#like he knows it's his husband so he allows himself to sleep a lil bit more until kurjak is trying to wake him up ...

[mvnces]

[ WAKEN ]: the sender touches the receiver's shoulder to waken them from a nap or sleep. / for decker <3

Decker had always been good at adjusting to different sleep schedules and, if needed, running off of close to no sleep. His time in the military and even before that proved so. But he was not immune to the sudden urge to nap that could overtake you at certain parts of the day — Was what he considered to be his day a bit fucked up after moving in with the Eradicator? Of course. His 'midday' nap was actually more of a mid-evening nap.

While his partner was out for groceries (the only task that Kurjak could do alone without Decker worrying about him harrasing some poor store owner), he had decided to stay home with the animals and do some chores around the apartment. He had gotten the majority of them done and, after sitting down to take a breather, ended up where he would be found later.

Slouched back against the couch, head tilted back against the cushion with Noge curled up in his lap.

The sound of the door opening and bags rustling did not seem to rouse him. The sound of Kurjak's footsteps padding closer barley earned any sort of reaction from the wolf. Jasper, after giving a rather dramatic stretch, dragged herself over to sniff at Kurjak once he was close enough to where everyone seemed to be resting.

It was only the gentle shake to his shoulder that roused the wolf back into the land of consciousness. A yawn followed by a quiet whining sound came before eyes were finally blinking open to peer up at the other. "Hi-" Decker definitely sounded groggy from his impromptu nap, clearing his throat before he was sitting up. "Do you need help putting things away?"

[shineonyoucrazyyandere]

Hey this is a bit of a weird one to explain but could you please make headcanons on how the main jojo's (cept for jodió ) would react with a willing!reader that's really curious about their stand/hamon and one days they develop an ability that's like the main villan of their part

For example eye lasers like part 1 Dio, Kars light blades and in puccis case they get white snake not MiH

Would they freak out? Would their attitude change in anyway?

One last thing please use gender neutral pronouns, sorry for the long ask

I could do a lil something for this. I’m hoping I interpreted right.

Yandere Joestars with willing! gn! Darling who manifests a similar ability to the main villain.

Yandere! Jonathan Joestar

He’s amazed at the manifestation of your hamon, or rather how you did so. He’s so sweetly proud of you, but the worries eat away at him at the back of his mind. How you fight and Dio fight are likely different, and he considers this in the back of his head. Not that he doesn’t trust your capabilities, he’s very overprotective basically wanting to be a big buff guardian angel.

He’d want to be there right next to you to defeat Dio once and for all. Definitely he’d tell you to keep the way you utilize your hamon on a lower level. As much as he hesitates in using it often, if it can be somehow gaged from weaker rays to stronger ones at will he might sleep much better at night. But he is absolutely not leaving your side whatsoever when working on managing it. Not even going to sleep, those are his stipulations.

Yandere! Joseph Joestar

Not lying he’s awestruck at your hamon blades, a little too giddy himself. He’s still clingy and overprotective but he knows you inside and out, and what he’s seen from Kars is another level of dangerous. He informs you to attack him like you want to viciously murder him, even makes it about marrying him if he lets you continue to help. He ends up on his tip toes through your “deadly sparring”.

He’s got a goofy grin the whole time, but there’s quite a few times he makes an audible gasp. He laughs it off and tells you not to behead your future husband just yet. It’s eerily similar to kars’s fighting style but he chalks that up to you being observant and honestly probably having a great grasp at Lisa-Lisa’s teachings. He loves you making him sweat though it’s cute.

“Jojo you need to take this seriously” you whined

“sorry sorry I can’t help it ” He teases back with a shrug

He’ll absolutely make sure to remember every vulnerable spot you do mention though. That will definitely be needed

Yandere! Jotaro Kujo

Even if you’re willing, he’s still heavily overprotective over you, at least until DIO finally burns into ashes. The way you seem to manipulate what looks like time in some capacity, may just spur Jotaro into unlocking Star Platinum the world much earlier. He only allows you to show it off to him and maybe his grandfather. He’ll verbally inform Kakyoin and the others himself of the potential that DIO could have something similar to what you have (or more in particularly Jotaro himself). Any potential complexities aside of course.

Figuring out that would at the very least save Kakyoin’s life without needing a sacrifice to figure out DIO’s stand

Yandere! Josuke Higashikata (pt 4)

He’s absolutely uncertain of you facing Kira in any capacity. It brings chills to his spine, freaks him out what that man could end up doing to you. He will protect you anyway he can and makes sure to bring the rest of the group together to plan around what similarities you have with Kira’s stand. He’s there squeezing your hand the whole time when you present your stand.

Absolutely he is actually trying for once to resist the urge to call it all off out of selfishness and find a way to kill this murderer once and for all. He hates that it had to be you of all people that had to have similar characteristics to this murderer. Especially if he would desire to target you due to adjacent abilities. Once this is over he’s giving you all the kisses he possibly could, (and a several minute hug that seemingly doesn’t want to end)

Yandere! Giorno Giovanna

This is something he absolutely wants you to rely on him for. If this gives any opportunity to defeat Diavolo along with Polnareff’s assistance, he’ll take it. He probably obsesses you the most out of all times, he knows your quirks and mannerisms. Memorizing them to the tiniest flinch of an arm, your intent, everything. Of course he keeps in mind of your ability, and inwardly applies any possible discretion that could get everyone killed.

He preferably wants to keep you away from this mess, as he’s certain you would ultimately be taken advantage of and killed if Diavolo observed you thoroughly. He can’t help but brush out your hair with his finger tips, looking into your eyes, drinking up your appearance. Any little smiles you give, assures him but he makes it certain to use it analytically as well.

For now he does pepper kisses alone your neck, and cheek. Just to blow off a little stress as you all head for an eventual final battle.

Yandere! Jolyne Kujo

She’s a mess, similar to Jotaro she wants to keep what you tell her to herself. As messed up as things are with are father, she likely also needs him to help kick Pucci’s ass. The more this woman watches you use this stand, her confidence goes up they can defeat this priest before he gets out of control. Her eyes stare into yourself with intense determination, she loves you, and she will be there every step of the way. It doesn’t even matter if your stand does similar discs or it’s something similar to a vhs tape. You’ll figure everything out together, she swears by that.

Yandere! Johnny Joestar

He reacts interestingly, he looks off coldly (not at you). More so in thought of this dangerous ability. The problems that could literally arise from bringing an alternate version of someone else here. You observe him in absolute deep thought of countless issues, including losing you most of all. He can’t have that, and he refuses to have that anyway.

Even if your stand is merely dimension hopping, or sending someone away that isn’t even in this universe. Johnny ends up freezing up out of ice cold determination to kill the president in the struggle race for the corpse parts. Though careful he could end up crushing your hand on accident just out of fury. You’ll probably be asked how you get there and might be bombarded with other hypotheticals. He’s sort of expecting a lot out of you, but at the same time it’s for your protection if he’s gonna be honest.

Johnny eventually mellows out a bit by likely laying his head on your lap. Of if he’s sitting up putting his chin on your shoulder. Enjoying your warmth as he gazes into the fire at camp in thought for the journey ahead.

Part 8 Josuke Higashikata

There’s a looming dark determination coming off him when he learns of your similar ability Tooru. Of course it puts you in the line of fire, but he and Yasuho-chan are ready to figure things out along side you. The irony of his darling having similar ability to his enemy hits deep, but everyone has a lot riding on this. He likely pats your head, maybe hums that little song you like him to sing. He tells you this isn’t just for Holly but for yourself too, he’ll somehow get around these calamities no matter what.

Honestly he probably gets a big emotional and ends up crying a bit. with you having to wipe his tears, almost like a kids. He cherishes this moment of closeness even with his fears and worries.

[shadale-s-safe-space]

Is it just me, or does Alex look a bit tired in the family picture?

Thank you for asking bcs there's a reason why.

Z was never meant to be dead, I just played off him being dead for the sake of AleX's story arc, it's just really hard to tell his part rn but I'll just say that he had help along the way. And that's why his hat was the only thing left in AleX's storyline.

Since his old jacked had been ruined, he was gifted a new one by his new "friend", while searching trough the pockets of his old jacket he finds their picture taken the day they started their relationship. He feels guilt rush trough him as he remembers the day she called him a liar.

[After being together for some months AleX was afraid that their relationship is going to fall apart just like everything she ever had before him. She lived in an abusive household where she wasn't allowed to go anywhere or see anyone, she just used to sneak out or sneak Z in, she used every opportunity she had just to see him. ]

He remembers the day when he promised that he'll never leave her,and conviced her to run away from home. That's when they started living together, they never actually got married, they just declared that day that they're now husband and wife.

He saved her once he'll do it again.

~~~~ a Lil part of his arc for now sorry~~~

He was overjoyed to see her. They can be the same way as they used to be again.

He wasn't actually himself anymore. While it still was him, it looked like something was bothering him. He became aggressive but not aggressive in a way of trying to hurt AleX. It was more of an obsession towards her. At first she thought that it was playful, they both haven't seen each other for a long time, even though it freaked her out sometimes , it was nothing more than an attack of hugs and kisses. [This is why he acted like a weirdo in AleX's arc aaaaa]

Until it started happening in the middle of the night too.

Almost every night she would wake up with him on top of her, No he didn't do anything serious he would just sit there petting her sometimes would call out for her and talk about things, but he never actually heard AleX's responses, it felt like he was I a delusional state, half a sleep maybe? She really couldn't tell.

If she wasn't next to him whenever he would get in that state, he would actually walk around their home trying to find her. Sometimes it felt like she was being hunted.

After every episode he actually wouldn't remember doing any of that and starts feeling guilt again, he was given another chance at life after he messed up and got them killed, he felt like he was ruining their life again. Not only did he give his best to find her, just to find out that he was waisting himself outside, but also did things he didn't want to do. Knowing that he's unwillingly now scaring her too hurts him to the core.

Scared that one day he'll actually do something bad to her, he doesn't understand why she still stands next to him.

Why haven't you left me yet?

Why would I do that?

I'm not the same person I used to be.

So?

I was supposed to save you, not be the source of your pain.

Seing Z lose himself more each day. She decides to grand him his biggest wish in life , if his old self is about to wither away, she at least wants him to be happy for once before he's completely gone. She just wanted to see his genuine smile again.

Since the day they started living together, Z always talked about wanting to have kids with her, he always wanted a family. AleX never was really into that idea. Knowing her own family, she was scared of becoming just like them. Z, although heartbroken by that, never forced her into anything, but he hoped for the day she'll change her mind about it.

Wait, really? Are you sure you want that?

Yeah, sure.. why not..

He was actually overjoyed, AleX doesn't remember the day when she last saw him this happy.

Z actually started feeling better. he was slowly being himself again. And over time healed of his traumas. He gifted his hat to one of his kids as a sign of their special bond as they are the ones who saved him.

[amypihcs]

Hello! Super late as usual, i'll blame university again. For this letter, the gayest paragraph in the history of literature! Let's see what our Watson writes for us!

For starters, Holmes is quite curious today. He'd liek a look at Mr Garrideb's collection

Unfortunately he really CAN'T now! Tomorrow afternoon? Yes, that's a nice day! Holmes is planning something, i feel it in my bones!

And now! He also likes architecture? He's planning something all right!

Now they go home and after dinner they get back on topic!

Holmes is quite satisfied. Now he can snuggle on his Watson and explain. And Watson noticed the curious stuff too!

And they agree on the deduction, Watson should give Holmes a lil kissy. Then they go to bed and Holmes does a thing he HATES, getting up early. But he's on a case, so not too bad!

Damn. Holmes is worried. Worried for his Watson. And Watson is comforting him that it will all go okay. These two are so absurdly married. I love them.

Watson doesn't know who that is, anyway, so Holmes gets near him, gives him a handkiss and explains

I LOVE that they're friends with Lestrade now! I also love Holmes calling the Yarders bureaucrats and in some way appreciating them!

Holmes tells his story and then they get ready to go out. Watson, darling, get your gun, please.

SH: Sleep a bit before we go, my dear. You need to be safe and awake. JW: Yes, my Holmes. It will go alright. I promise. SH: Rest, dear.

Holmes is doing another little bit of an explanation

Holmes you don't need to sound THAT admired! but yes, do explain your ideas! it will calm and ground both you and your Watson

They get into the house, take a good look around and they prepare their ambush.

Here he comes!

Sneaky, sneaky. Sneaky, sneaky, Ah they rolled badly on Stealth! The floorboards creaked! A true pity. Anyway, cough cough, Hands up, Killer Evans!

Ehy! SKRONK!

The fuck are you doing shooting Watson? -searching him for weapons- Watson meanwhile is busy suffering and checking out his husband's coolness under fire. 8/10 Holmes, you could've fi-hey!

Holmes scooped up Watson (wiry arms, uh? Guess you know those very well), put him down on a chair, almost teared up while begging Watson not to die, torn Watson's trousers apart, saw that Watson's reassurance wasn't just playing cool and HISSED at Killer Evans that he would only go out of that house FEET FIRST if HIS Watson had been hurt badly.

Watson meanwhile has signed down three more love confessions, winced a bit at the pain, begun mourning his favourite trousers and barely resisted the temptation to just kiss Holmes' tears away from his beautiful storm-grey eyes only because they're in front of a SUSPECT.

Anyway the pros that come with being shot on a case include being snarky while writing it down, of course.

And of course Watson CAN'T let Holmes look around alone, he could be in danger. So an excuse to glue himself to his husband in public.

AH AND NOW YOU'RE TALKING UH?

Watson is keeping Holmes from biting at Evans' throat. And we know this. This american bastard shot WATSON!! Holmes SHOULD be allowed to eat him alive expecially since he's calling himself a soft hearted guy. And yet no, Holmes. Remember the law. Sure, my Watson. Could you call Lestrade, please. Well, CERTAINLY Watson can!

The case ends in the best way, then? EEEh, nop. Poor Mr Garrideb will never completely recover from the shock of seeing his 5 million Pounds disappear into thin air. Big F for him, he was a nice man. Watson got as a bonus to be carried upstairs by his Holmes (Holmes' insistence) once back home and i guess he exploited Holmes' presence for a bit as a help while he bandaged himself (he refused to let Holmes do the medication, even if it didn't need stitches)

And in the next story we'll hear of the disappearence of lady Frances Carfax! We'll see how it went!

[the-letter-horror-lover]

Take me into your loving arms; kiss me under the light of a thousand stars. Place your head on my beating heart. I'm thinking out loud maybe we found love right were we are." (Thinking Out Loud - Ed Sheeran)

Chapter 11: Ready or not

Notes:

AN: Here we are!!! I think you know what's coming. So a lil warning... semi graphic here, but I tried not to be too icky for you, yet keep it realistic. Oh and fyi, I have no children so I have no idea what this is like so any moms out there I'm sorry if it's cliché, all you ladies have my up most respect. It is something I could not do and don't plan to. Any who as far as warnings I think you should all be fine, any way the moment you have all been waiting for is here, so! Get your sodas and popcorn and hunker down for the big moment. Also! There is some Imagery here that brings us full circle, so if you notice those little easter eggs good for you.

Chapter Text

Ciel felt restless, he had been lying in bed the last few days and been oddly content to do so. After eight months of pregnancy, one would think staying off your feet would be welcome. It was for a while, he was perfectly fine allowing Sebastian to fawn over him all to the ravens pleasure.

However, now he could not be still.

With a bit of huffing and puffing Ciel managed to heave him upright and take hold of the bed frame, hauling himself into standing position. Moving around with the low hanging weight of four children had become a chore.

"Ciel... are you alright?" Sebastian asked feeling the bed shift; he rolled over watching the silhouette of his husband in the moon light slipping on a dressing gown.

"Yes, yes I'm fine go back to sleep I just need to get some air. Your children are being troublesome."

"Funny how their mine when your annoyed." The ravenette quipped watching as the once human staked out of the bedroom.

The false night in hell has a strange kind of beauty to it, the inky sky above and soft glow of the moon that so mirrored the one in the human realm. It was something that always seems to bring Ciel a sense of peace, so familiar and yet unnatural. The nights in the underworld brought back fond memories of his bonding ceremony all those years ago. If he closed his eyes he could almost ear the sirens songs and smell the incense in the air.

Sitting in the garden in an old swing the neko closed his eyes. The long navy robe he had been wearing fell open illuminating his pallid skin under the false moon, casting the taut creamy flesh in lavender light. Around him, ghost roses turned there haunting white blossoms up to the deep violet sky. Something about this night feels so familiar and yet like a distant dream.

Ciel breathed in the soft fragrance and let it soak in to his lungs, the calming scent easing the ache that had been radiating from his lower back. He ran a hand over his swollen womb, "To think, I was once in an abyss of despair, when chance was offered, the choice to crawl out and I took it. I decided not to give up and reached for it. I thought the greatest gift that demon could give me was revenge...I was wrong. You are all my gifts."

A warm breeze flowed through the garden, swirling through the hedges and blowing the vibrant blue petals of the rose's trough the trees. Ciel watched the cerulean petals dance in the wind, there was something ethereal in it. He could have never believed hell could be so beautiful; truth was life is what you make it. Even in the other world were the inhabitant could simply chose to surround them with whatever they choose. This was a world created just for him, of his and Sebastian's own making. This was in a way there first child; they wove this place. The stone paths of the garden, much like Phantomhive manor, the gates around there home...suspiciously like the gates of London cemetery. The roses, even the swing where he sat now that was much like the one at his Aunt Frances's home, where he and Elizabeth used to play.

Ciel could imagine his children in this garden, four little mischievous toddlers dashing down the walkway. Little girls with long ink black pigtails. Little boys with shining crimson eyes so full of curiosity and wonder. "Look what you lot have done to me hmm?" He said breathing out slowly feeling the twinge in his back wrapping around his lower belly. "You all wreak havoc and make me sentimental...ya know I was once feared, I tamed a demon you know. I was a captain of industry when most boys where occupied with their studies. It only took me a hundred years to grow up, yet it doesn't seem so long now."

The demon sat there in the slowly swaying bench swing for a while longer, leaning back when the tightening in his low abdomen returned. Ciel knew what it was now, but it was to early to bother with it now. He wanted to put of Sebastian crowding him and calling Claudia in. By the neko's calculations, these first contractions were still a good 20 minuets apart. He would be looking at a few more hours yet.

Sebastian was tiding up the bedroom; Ciel never had come back to bed. The elder demon was not concerned, he got a hint of irritation from the other across there bond every now and then but other than that nothing that would cause the crow, any pause.

After leaving the master suite and descending the staircase, Sebastian looked around the parlor and library with no sign of him mate. Ciel had a particular talent in eluding him, Sebastian supposed it was apart of his feline like characteristics. If the bluenette did not wish to be found, he would not be.

However, a search of the patio yielded results. Ciel was laying on his side on a cushioned lounge that over looked the garden.

"Soaking up the morning sun are we?" the elder commented

When Ciel did not answer, Sebastian left the doorway and crossed the stone pavilion. He saw the pinched look on his mates face as Ciel let out a breath slowly. "Ciel?"

"What..."

"Are you alright?" stupid question he realized as soon as he said it.

"Wonderful, just enjoying the view and waiting for your hell spawn to position them selves between contraction. The usual, perhaps you can make yourself useful and make me some tea yes?" The younger man complained

Sebastian folded his arms looking unimpressed, "Why didn't you tell me."

Ciel rolled up into sitting position, hand on the side of his bulky stomach. "What would you have done that I am not perfectly capable of doing now. Entertained me with all your tricks with table wear?"

The raven pinched the bridge of his nose silently reminding himself that it was to hormones talking. "I would have been by your side, just as I always have been."

Ciel waved him off before gripping the fabric of his dressing gown and breathing in sharply. He counted through the rippling cramp, they were getting longer now but nothing he could not handle. When he opened his eyes, they meet with a concerned pair of garnets looking up at him. Sebastian was kneeling in front of the lounge.

"I'm fine."

The ravenette hummed rubbing his mates thigh, "I'm sure your doing splendid, though perhaps you would indulge me and come inside."

"Because I want to, not because your asking."

"Of course Dear."

It had been nine hours since the first contractions started, at this point, the tightening cramps were seven minuets apart and Sebastian had sent for Lady Faustus. Claudia had arrived and looked Ciel over, by now the neko was annoyed and between lying at the foot of the bed and pacing the room, he was nearly growling at everything that moved.

The she demon just shook her head and said "not yet" which earned her some rather colorful language from the once earl. Not that the string of profanity mattered much to her.

Claudia suggested that Ciel lay in some lukewarm water for a while to ease his back and perhaps cool his temper. Sebastian was quick to ready the bath and help his snappish laboring mate into it. Ciel slapped him away when a contraction rippled through him.

The elder demon gave up letting his partner have his solitude in the bath.

Out in the parlor Claudia was as calm as a spring day, sipping her tea and as her fingers idly ran along the stitching of one of the decorative pillows in the living area.

"Forgive me curiosity but how much longer will it be, in your opinion?" Sebastian asked, sounding collected when he was anything but.

The woman looked up, golden eyes regarding the raven coolly, "Could be another hour or the rest of the day. They will come when they are ready, I see no signs that the kits or their barerer are in any immediate danger. The best thing to do is simply waiting, once the first enters transition and descends then the rest will follow. "Sebastian nodded sitting across from her, "And the birth, are you as confident for that?"

"From his exam his birthing stoma has been in place for over a week now and with multiples the individual kits are smaller, I don't anticipate any tearing." she spoke waving a wand dismissively. "This is his first litter, it will be difficult but Ciel is strong. Perhaps more so than I previously believed."

The raven smirked, Ciel was strong - it was something he had known for centuries now. Where others had broken under stress and desperation his valiant little once human had persevered. Like a phoenix from the ashes, the bluenette has surpassed all expectations. He would do so now with no doubt.

"SEBASTIAN!" Ciel was leaning on the bed striped down cursing through every wave of pain. He had been in labor for 15 hours and finally felt the shift low in his belly.

His mate at his side running a gentle hand over the slighter males sweat soaked back, " That's it just a bit longer." This comfort was apparently incorrect as the neko's hand shot out and grabbed the raven by his collar jerking Sebastian in nose to nose.

"You said that three bloody hours ago." the bluenette grit

However, before Sebastian could make a witty retort his mate hunched forward over groaning into the next contraction.

By now Claudia had entered the room drying her hands on a tea towel, "I believe he's entered transition by now, I suspect his waters to break soon, if not I can do so to get things moving along." She spoke mildly unbuttoning her silk blouse leaving her in a cream cotton camisole.

"Yes lets get on with it." Ciel panted fisting his hands into the duvet, he did want to prolong this if he didn't have to.

Getting into position at the end of the bed had admittedly been the least glamorous moment of his demonic existence, yet some how the former earl could not bring himself to be ashamed. Being splayed out like a Christmas goose in front of a Faustus no less, this should have been humorous in a some dark part of his mind. However all semblance of wit left him with the awkward rush of fluid. Blessedly releasing some of the pressure he'd been feeling mount over the last hour.

"When you feel the urge to push do so, when you do bear down with your chin to your chest hold your breath to the count of 10. I will not direct you further, your body knows what it must accomplish." The she demon spoke in her ever even perfect tone as if critiquing a painting.

Ciel was less in the mood to be snaky at the moment, his hands griping into the terry cloth folded beneath him. He felt the steady strong presence of his mate behind him. This was happening, this was real, as real as the bond he shared with his former butler now husband. Real as the tactile sensation of the cloth in between his fingers.

"Ok I'm Ready."

Ciel groaned and cursed, his hair plastered down his back from sweat. Sebastian holding him whispering in his ear as he bore down again unable to hold back a scream that tore through his throat. Beginning to regret his choice not to do this in his demon form.

Then nothing mattered because admits the pain and the sound of his own voice crackling in his ears came clarity. The feeling his first born passing into the world followed by a shrill cry.

"Girl." Claudia said, freeing the last remaining tether between infant and barer. She held he shrieking little one and gently soothed away the blood from birth in the large steel bowl of water.

She was there, their daughter. Soft deep navy whips plastered on her head, her tiny fists clenched tight as she cried.

The demoness placed the little one in Sebastian's arms first. He looked down at the child who instantly called her wails into whimpers at his touch. "Hello Hela, my little girl. You have given your father quite a bit of trouble you know."

Ciel's face softened wanting to hold her and touch her, count her fingers and toes but there would be time for that later as one of his little girls siblings was already eager to follow her lead.

The next hour seemed to go easier, Arielle had arrived during the first birth and by the second the majority of the Michaëlis/Viceroy clan was down stairs awaiting news.

When the second girl, Athena, was born looking identical to her sister Ciel sensed a pattern coming. And sure enough when little Rachel's voice joined the chorus he knew he had a trio.

After Rachel was born there was a lull in his labor, Claudia assured him that was fine and to rest while he could.

"Their beautiful."

Ciel cracked open an eye to see his sister-in-law settle down in the chair next to the bed.

"Of course they are, hey are half Phantomhive." He commented easily. His palm running down over the far less prominent bump feeling a soft tumble beneath his hand of his final reluctant kit.

She chuckled smoothing her hands over her skirt, "Yes and they look it, Sebastian has fawned over them getting them clean and into their first little night shirts. Athena was particularly fussy about that. How are you feeling?"

Ciel looked up at the ceiling, "Fine, I don't know what all the fuss is about really."

Arielle rolled her eyes, "Really now, see because as I recall when I arrived here I heard you screaming a blue streak and threatening fairly sensitive portions of my little brothers anatomy."

The neko glanced sidelong, "It is his fault and I claim temporary loss of faculties."

"Very well, do try and sleep some. I know you want to see them but trust me they are just as tired for now and will be fine until there little sibling is ready to join them." She said patting his hand.

Ciel did not fight her, welcoming the ease of slumber that tugged him down into its depths.

When he woke again he felt hot and the tighten in his lower abdomen screamed with over sensitive nerve endings.

Sebastian opened the bedroom door with Claudia close behind him. "Alright then lets see how your doing" she said tugging the sheet back.

When her face blanched slightly as she looked up to Sebastian, Ciel knew... "What is it" He groaned through the next spasm of his muscles "What is it"

Sebastian took his mates face in his much larger hands. " Everything will be fine." But even as the raven said the words Ciel could tell the man did not believe them.

"The child is coming feet first Ciel..." Claudia's voice drifted up, there was more ... more she wasn't saying. "This will be more difficult but I need you to push and not give up."

"I have never given up in my life."

The child was smaller, Ciel couldn't even control the sob when he heard Claudia say "You have a son."

It wasn't the joy of his first little boy but the sorrow of looking down and seeing the demoness swiftly untangle the cord from around the so small babies neck and rub the child's chest. He was so much smaller, he was so quiet. Ciel tore his eyes away to see the stricken look on Sebastian's face, the soft words that fell from the elder demons lips "please.."

When the little body jolted in the she spiders grasp and whimpered Ciel fell back and covered his face to conceal the emotions tearing through him.

"Playing possum were you little one?" she said with an ounce of amusement as the little boy screamed louder, little limbs kicking as he was washed.

"Loki.. our little trickster." Sebastian smiled Moving to take the child and swaddle the babe in a towel.

Their son was every bit a Michaëlis, ink black hair that curled around his little ears and forehead. Even his little features, long slender face and nose. Ciel held out his arms, his last born was the first he would hold. Loki opened his eyes, blinking long dark lashes to show off his big dark sapphire eyes.

"What color are the girls eyes?" Ciel said as he ran a finger over his sons cheek.

"Hela and Rachel have my eyes, Athena has yours ." Sebastian spoke softly, Claudia slipped out after cleaning up the afterbirth and taking away the soiled blankets.

They were going to have there hands full from now on that was certain, Their homes much like their hearts would be full.

And the room at the end of the hall, would never feel empty again.

"You're the sweetest thing, that I've ever known. And to think that you are mine, you are mine alone. There is no greater love in all the world it's true. No greater love than what I feel for you." (No greater love - Amy Winehouse)

AN: Yes there will be an Epilogue.

Chapter 12: Epilogue: This is us.

Notes:

An: First I would like to thank all of you who followed this journey from start to finish. You all mean a lot to me and I'm so pleased to have given each of you something to enjoy and brighten your day even if it was only for a few moments.

In other news, Expect the Unexpected will be taking over the Sunday update spot. Its another Mpreg Grellium, so if you enjoyed this you may like that one. I also plan on finishing up my Bleach and Gravitation fics soon. So yep Lots will be wrapping up! But do not fear Your Loli is just cleaning up her dashboard for a new set up in 2016!

You can expect more Red Scales, And new Full length fic for Avengers called "Where we land" It will be Stony Ship OmegaVerse. With potential Mpreg haven't decided yet.

Anyhow, I will now give you the goods since I'm sure your tired of reading all this above XD

Chapter Text

"TAG!" Three bright little voices screamed from the end of the hall.

Ciel rolled his eyes looking up from his book shouting "No Running In The House!" over his shoulder. Not that it did any good. A few moments after his warning there was a thumb and whimpering. "Oh for Hades sake..."

A few minutes later, a set of guilty looking triplets came toddling in. Hel had her arm around her little brother shoulders as he cried. The little boy's knees were bright red from tumbling onto the hardwood floors.

"Loki fell daddy..." Rachel said

"Because you pushed him." Athena chimed in, causing her red-eyed sister to scowl.

Rachel crossed her arms with a huff. "Tattle tale"

"Alright, I don't care who did what. I told you not to play rough in the house didn't I?" Ciel admonished his girls. Each of them looking down and away. Rachel the least sorry of the bunch, she was every bit Sebastian's. "Alright you three go to your room."

A chorus of "awww but!"

"But nothing!" He cut them off taking his sniffling little son in his arms. "To your room now young ladies."

The trios mutter and had a pitiful little precession up the stairs.

Ciel shook his head and carried Loki on his hip into the kitchen. "You shouldn't let them goad you into games you know." Ciel said. Of course, he realized why this had happened. His little boy could not back down from a challenge. The apple, as they say, did not fall far from the tree.

"I know..." The little boy sniffled scrubbing little pals over his face.

The bluenette sat the boy on the counter running a damp cloth over the boy's knees. They would heal quickly, it was the sting or perhaps more the bruised pride of falling that hurt the little one more. "Would you like to sit with me until your father comes home?"

Loki nodded and held up his arms to be picked up, the littlest of the littler, he still clung to his barer. Ciel did not mind, if anything he found it oddly comforting that the little one still needed him so much. His girls were very independent already.

Hel was his little thinker, she was smart and cunning. Her crimson eyes observing everything so carefully, she could turn on a smile or a frown at will and had her grandfather wrapped about her little finger.

Rachel was his little aggressive one; she was competitive and loved to show off. Ciel could already see how wild she was going to get once she matured. Thankful he would have a good 100years or so before that happened. However, he did look forward to Sebastian's reaction.

He mate was already proving to be the very protective father.

Athena reminded him much of his sister-in-law. The child was smart and quick-witted.

This was his family, something he never thought he would have again. Ciel smiled to himself looking down at the small child laying across his lap. The little boy smiled, bright blue eyes filled with innocence, he knew then that if all the suffering in his life had led him to this moment it was all worth it.

"We got love, yeah, darling just swear you'll stand right by my side. Be my forever." (Be my forever - Christina Perri)

~FIN~

Series this work belongs to:

← Previous Work Part 4 of Kuro after years

[emotionallydrainedtrash]

L'art d'aimer

Masterlist

Enjolras x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, suggestive banter, PDA.

Summary: The Revolution long over, Enjolras found a girl and settled down. Him and his wife enjoy his birthday at home with old friends.

A/N As is evident, Enj and his mates lived. I hate death, especially theirs so they made everybody else eat dust instead.😤 Reblogs and feedback is so greatly appreciated! And I know Enj is very homo, me too, but this is very self-indulgent and I guess this makes it a notcanon OOC Enjolras but so be it! I needed a lil' bit of revolutionary x his wife in my life. I also wrote this picturing Aaron Tveit's Enj as opposed to Joseph Quinn's cause to me his version seems more likely to be hetero/fem attracted than Joe's but hey, whatever suits you.

"There's the happy couple!"

"Courferyac, you are in our house. Where else would we be?"

Courf chuckled, clearly tipsy as he spoke, "Forgive me. Your champagne is a little too delicious."

Laughing at his friend, Enjolras moved to sit down. Another trip around the sun had passed for him and his wife had organised a celebration. Marriage was hardly something the Enjolras of six years ago would've considered but times were different now. He'd met the love of his life and devoted himself to her, so clearly changed from his youth.

Even now she could feel his eyes on her as she moved to refill her teacup. Looking up from the teapot in her hands she met his gaze and smiled, eyes sparkling at the grin he returned. This was a new, softer, more relaxed Enjolras and she was proud to have been the one allowed to peel back the layers of strength and stoicism he flaunted around the tables of Le Cafe Musain.

Grantaire tapped on his own flute of champagne to bring everyone's attention to him.

"To our good friend and leader, Monsieur Apollo, joyeaux anniversaire! And may you have many more." And everyone cheered, applauding the golden man.

"And to his equally amazing wife, Madame Aphrodite, who planned this joyful event and will likely be getting very little sleep tonight!" And Grantaire threw her a dramatic wink as the room erupted into fits of giggles.

She shook her head and leaned on the table exasperated but clearly smiling.

Grinning from ear to ear, Joly called out to her, "I don't suppose you have one more present waiting for Enj upstairs do you?"

Enjolras found great amusement in the way his wife's jaw fell open in mock horror. Deciding to play along, he chimed in.

"Oh do tell my darling."

She rolled her eyes before retorting, "why on earth would I share that sort of information in such a setting."

"They are family after all love," Enjolras teased.

"Oui, but would you tell your maman what we did on our wedding night?" she shot back.

Enjolras flushed a deep red as Gavroche slapped him on the shoulder amongst his raucous cackles.

"Non, I suppose not."

Proud of her work, she took her cup and made to sit by her husband's side. He who had other plans, pulled her into his lap instead. Curling into him, the two observed the room of chosen family as they all turned to separate conversations and felt their hearts grow full at the love that was so prominent between each of them.

Shifting her hair to one side, Enjolras leaned forward to his lover's ear and spoke lowly, "About your sleep, R wasn't wrong you know."

She blushed and replied in equally hushed tones, "Neither was Joly."

And they shared a smile that only the two of them could decipher, as the candlelight sent shimmers of gold through their hair and made their eyes shine like silver. A portrait of true love if there ever was one. A loud cheer erupted as Enjolras touched his lips softly to hers and there was such adoration in the way his hand cupped her jaw and her fingers threaded themselves through his curls.

Breaking away with noses touching, they whispered the words that changed their lives all those years ago.

"I love you."

"Not more than I love you."

Monsieur Apollo couldn't help but feel like a god sometimes, and it was never without his goddess by his side.

A portrait of true love indeed.

[idontblushsrry]

SFW Alphabet||Nanami Kento

A/N: A lil sumn sumn for the Nanami stans, yall have impeccable taste. I was gonna release an NSFW alphabet, but since this one was requested, I’ll post this first. Featuring a bit of rambling (srry I’ve got Nanami brainrot ig + I was tired writing some parts) as well as Gojo and Mahito slander!! 

Ft. a gender neutral reader

Word Count: 2888

A: Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

First thing is, he’s not big on PDA, while he does give affection liberally, especially when it’s through his actions, Nanami prefers to keep his gestures of love private. In private however, he shows his affection in a myriad of ways. One of his favorites being helping you with your hair, the act not only makes him feel closer to you but it also allows for him to take care of you, one of his favorite things to do.

B: Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Nanami is definitely the best friend that is reliable. Sure he’s reliable as a friend, the two of you likely became friends initially due to this, but what makes you his best friend is returning that same energy. It’s draining to always be the one holding everything together, just once, Nanami would like to have a shoulder to lean on. Once you become that for him, it won’t be long before the two of you become best friends.

C: Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Cuddles with Nanami are so warm and safe regardless of if you’re the little spoon or not. His cuddles are also littered with kisses because when he’s tired, he gets a lot more open with his affection. He doesn’t usually talk when he cuddles but if he has a nightmare and you wake up to sooth him, the sound of your voice alone sets him at ease. 

D: Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Nanami definitely wants to settle down. It’s canon that he’s only working so that he can make enough to retire early. If you’re the breadwinner, or even if he somehow makes enough to retire, he’s going into full house husband mode and no one can tell him otherwise. If it were up to him, he’d do all the cooking, cleaning, and home upkeep while you go out and work. But alas, life is cruel, and as such, he still enjoys cooking and cleaning but the chores are split between you two. Cooking however, is usually a team project, either the both of you make a meal and clean it together afterwards or one cooks and the other does the dishes, either way, it’s perfect for the two of you.

E: Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Nanami is at his core, a very mathematical and precise person. His cursed technique is literally a ratio, because of that, he prefers to breakup with people as cleanly as possible. His breakups tend to sound like they’re following a script because of how to the point he is. When breaking up with you, he just bluntly states that he doesn’t see your relationship as beneficial going forward. Literally the most neutral way to break up with someone, how you’d choose to take it though is up to you.

F: Fiance(e) (How would they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Nanami is the type of person to just elope or have a small ceremony between the two of you. He doesn’t care much for the paperwork or ceremonial side of it, and he is definitely the type of person who just says “You know we’re getting married someday right?”. From that point forward (if you’re ok with it) he’d basically introduce you as his spouse, when questioned though, he just goes “Ah, we’re not married yet.” He’s not shy about commitment though, his dream life is just living in the countryside with his spouse and maybe some animals, he’s a simple man. Not to say that he’s not going to officially propose though, because he will once he finds something good enough to propose with, it’s just that the two of you are “married” before actually being married.

G: Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Nanami is a gentle soul deep down. He cares about those he loves very deeply and would throw his life on the line to protect them. Emotionally, Nanami is always extremely respectful of your feelings. Even things as simple as ranting feel safe, almost like his very presence is cradling you. He’s also very open with you in return, despite his usual deadpan tone, he never hesitates to tell you of his thoughts and feelings once you both trust each other. Physically, Nanami is also extremely gentle. He loves to lavish you in soft touches and kisses. His most common spots for kisses are your nose and forehead. 

H: Hugs( Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Depending on your clumsiness, this may topple you, but Nanami likes to lean into you when giving hugs. His shoulders decompress ad he unconsciously just sinks into you without warning. Now if you’re prepared/ stable enough, you might stumble a little but overall you’ll be fine. If you’re clumsy or not expecting it... let’s hope that there’s something soft behind you because Nanami’s going down with you.

I: I love you (How fast do they say the L-word)

Nanami is very slow to say that he loves you. It’s not that he’s oblivious or doesn’t realize he loves you, once he realizes, he just accepts that as a fact. It’s simply that he gets wrapped up in his own head, worrying about if you love him too, if he’s being too forward, etc. If you confess first, he’ll have a much easier time admitting it (although he may not immediately respond with ‘I love you too’), but if you leave it up to him...you’ll be waiting a while.

J: Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous)

Pretty much all of Nanami’s jealousy comes from the beginning of your relationship when he was a lot more insecure about the place he had in your life. When he would get jealous, he’d just kind of stew in it. It was obvious though that he was jealous and pouting at you and whoever was making him jealous. Later on in your relationship though, he doesn’t get jealous, try as you might. He knows that he’s your partner (a fact that the both of you have affirmed thousands of times) and that no one will come between the two of you. 

K: Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Nanami’s kisses are like melting butter, they’re so smooth and gradually they just get more intense until he pulls away and you’re left dizzy. He’s so firm with his kisses too, he always has to be touching you in some way. Whether it be holding your face or resting his hand against the small of your back, Nanami’s kisses may leave you weak in the knees, but he’ll catch you if you fall.

L: Little ones (How are they around children)

Nanami’s really good with children but in the dad way where you’ll come back and see him and the child both sitting on the couch watching TV. Not to say that he’s lazy with kids but he tends to just let the kid do whatever. If the kid wants Nanami to wear a tutu and do the chicken dance, why not? If the kid wants Nanami to list off animal facts while Nanami listens, sure. Hell, even if the kid just wants to use him as a tablet holder, he’s cool with that. He’s good with kids because he just lets them be kids.

M: Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Nanami depend on what the both of you have scheduled for the day. In Nanami’s perfect world, he’d spend the day relaxing with you at home, however, he understands that realistically the both of you have obligations. If it’s a work day for both of you, he’s made a small breakfast and something to drink. If it’s his day off, he spends a little more time laying in bed with you, enjoying the time before you have to leave. If the both of you have the day off, he spends a lot more time on breakfast (not including the extra time he’ll spend in bed with you), plating and serving you before himself and then listening to you talk about your day as he eats.

N: Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Contrary to popular belief, Nanami prefers to come home at a reasonable time and spend his nights with you. Honestly, he’d prefer to just live the house husband lifestyle, but hey, rent in Tokyo is expensive so he doesn’t mind if both of you are working. But because of the fact that he’s working, when he comes home, he sticks to a routine. Said routine consists of either cooking dinner together or ordering takeout, watching tv, and ending the night with cuddling. He’s a simple man, even if you don’t stick to the routine, as long as he gets to hold you when it comes time to sleep, he’s good.

O: Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It really depends; if you’re a jujutsu sorcerer or even just aware of the supernatural, you’d already either know or have a general idea of his abilities/the world he comes from. If you’re a non-jujutsu sorcerer however, Nanami gets kind of nervous because he doesn’t want you to think he’s crazy. Ideally, if you’re a non-sorcerer, he’d never tell you about that aspect of himself. It’s not like he doesn’t think you should know or even that he’s ashamed; it’s just that’s a chapter of his life that, unless relevant, he doesn’t think is important to know about. To him, it’s just a job, and he’d prefer if you thought of it that way too. 

P: Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Nanami is very patient. Not to say that he doesn’t get angry or upset, or even that he’s slow to feel these emotions, it’s just that he knows when’s the best time to express certain feelings. Even if he’s upset with you, he’s unlikely to lash out in an argument, preferring to cool down and then come back to talk it out in a constructive manner.

Q: Quizzes (How much would they remember about you?  Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Nanami is the most attentive boyfriend one could ever ask for. He remembers every small detail about you like it’s his full time job. He rarely gets the chance to show you all the little details he remembers about you, so he tends to do so in subtle (and practical) ways. For example, when shopping for furniture like dinnerware, he tends to get sets in colors that are either your favorite or that you picture in your “ideal” kitchen. However, when it comes to remembering details, nothing tops morning pre-work Nanami. He knows your morning routine like the back of his hand and he’ll have the coffee (or tea if coffee isn’t your thing) brewing before you can even wonder what’s for breakfast

R: Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

One night, Nanami came home from work dead tired. It was a shitty day overall, filled with deadlines that were suddenly moved up with no warning. As a result, he ended up coming home later than he wanted to, the thought of you waiting for him when he got home carrying him through the last round of paperwork. Everything was dark, and he’d assumed you went to bed. Imagine his surprise when he comes across a bath that you prepared for him with foam, flower petals, fragrances, all the works (it was still somewhat warm so you must’ve done this on his way back). All alongside a note that said ‘If you’re reading this, I’m probably asleep. But you’ve been working hard, take a break and enjoy yourself, Love you Ken.’ After a long day, your note put the warmest smile onto his face. He still keeps the note tucked away neatly in a box with other memories of your relationship.

S: Security (How protective are they? How would they like to be protected?)

Aside from the obvious, because of course Nanami would want you to be safe from curses, he’s protective of you in terms of privacy. Sure, being private about his relationship with you means less curses that would know to use you as a weakness against him, but more importantly, Gojo. It’s not that he doesn’t trust the man, it’s just Gojo knows too much about him that could 1) embarrass him or 2) make you uncomfortable (Gojo’s personality isn’t for everyone.) If you already know/ know about Gojo however, any Gojo warding that you do will be greatly appreciated. If you manage to distract the sorcerer enough for Nanami to slip away, he’s forever grateful. Sure, Gojo gets pouty about Nanami’s avoidance but in his opinion, anyone who knew what he looked like in highschool needs to never speak with him again.

T: Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

If it wasn’t clear from the moment you started dating this man, Nanami doesn’t half ass relationships. The amount of effort he puts into spending time with you/ getting gifts for you ties back to his attentiveness mentioned earlier. Don’t even get him started on daily tasks because he loves doing small things for you to make your day easier. Even if your day is hard, he hopes that his small actions bring a smile to your face regardless. 

U: Ugly (What are some bad habits of theirs? (I’m gonna add arguments here because they aren’t on the prompt list I found))

Nothing he’s the perfect man jkjk. In all seriousness though, Nanami has a tendency to come off as a “mother knows best type”. It’s never intentional and it usually comes from him just trying to help you, but at the end of the day, he has a bad habit of taking over different tasks/speaking over you. Sometimes it’s nice, like at restaurants, he’ll already know your order. Other times it’s overbearing, for example, if you buy something irresponsible, here comes captain Nanami to remind you about the importance of economic spending habits and if your purchase was really “necessary”. Like, love you but can you leave me alone.

V: Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s very concerned with his looks. Nanami believes in a standard of appearance that he has to uphold, as such, although his general outfit/styling choices may seem simple, he’s extremely meticulous when it comes to his looks. He’s not the type for anything flashy but best believe he’s not wearing a three piece suit and $400 watch without being impeccably groomed and styled beforehand.

W: Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

No, Nanami doesn’t feel incomplete without you. He understands that the both of you are adults who had lives prior to this relationship. Not only does he enjoy his alone time, he’s also used to being without you for extended periods of time due to his job. All in all, Nanami is a firm believer in the phrase “hate to see them go, but I love to watch them leave.”

X: (E)xes (Any previous relationship experience. How does that factor into your current relationship?)

He has a few exes, all of them relationships that consisted primarily of sex or they were long-term relationships that didn’t go anywhere. After a while, he just kinda threw himself into work, so you’re his first relationship in quite some time. His past partners don’t really factor into your relationship aside from general lessons that he would’ve learned anyway such as; compromise, the value of alone time, showing appreciation for one’s partner.

Y: Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner)

In general, he hates Mahito There aren’t many qualities in a partner that Nanami dislikes that aren’t already expected in a relationship (ex. boundaries, healthy communication, etc.). Overall, he just wants someone that understands when to give him space and when to give him affection, find that balance, and you’re golden. In general though, Nanami’s not really the type to have a specific standard that he looks for in a partner, he does have a tendency to seek out calmer people.

Z: Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Not necessarily a habit (although he did this a lot more before the two of you started dating) but Nanami is used to all-nighters, no surprise there. An unintended consequence of that is that once he goes to sleep, he’s going down for at least a day. When he knocks out, it’s the type of sleep that leaves you dazed and wondering if you time-traveled after waking up. When he finally does wake up, please bring this man food and water, he needs it.

[softhairedhotch]

aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader :)

(he's your husband in this, so established relationship)

no warnings

word count: 715

just a short lil thing about being in aaron's arms <3

AO3

aaron's arms

Being in Aaron’s arms was the safest feeling in the world.

You were sat in his lap on the couch, your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and face buried into his neck. His cheek, stubbled and warm, lay against the top of your head, arms secure in their tight grip around you. He hummed a soft tune, something you couldn’t quite recognize, but you felt it vibrate through you as well as hearing it.

The lights were dim, the house was quiet, the rain was soft against the window; it was just the two of you safe in your own little world.

Pulling back with your hands still on his shoulders, you admired his face.

“What are you doing?” He laughed, hands dropping to your lower back and rubbing soft, loving circles into the skin over your shirt. His face settled into a soft smile, one that was small but still lit up his entire face.

“I just wanna look at you for a bit.”

Immediately his smile grew wider, the laughter lines on his face disappearing into those dimples that made him look even more beautiful. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You cupped his cheeks, feeling the warmth underneath the soft gray bristles that littered his face, stroking your thumbs over his cheekbones. His smile deepened and his eyes shone with so much love you felt your heart rate pick up. No matter how long you had been with him, how many times you had looked into those warm eyes of his, how many times you found yourself like this, he still had an effect on you. He was perfect in every way.

As you were admiring his face, taking in the true beauty of him in the low light, letting the true intimacy of the moment wash over you, Aaron leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your nose. It was a small gesture, but it made you smile more, a small laugh passing through your lips. His eyes, a warm auburn, were entirely filled with a mix of love and awe as he watched you.

“Hotchner, I’m trying to admire you!”

“And I wanted to make you laugh, Hotchner.”

The thought of him being your husband made you even happier, the smile on your face so impossibly wide that your cheeks began to hurt. But you didn’t mind, because he was the one to put it on your face. The moment your smile widened, he let out a laugh, one that made him drop his head between the two of you for a moment.

But in seconds, his lips were all over your face, peppering kisses on every available inch of skin he could reach. You began to giggle, pretending to pull away as his arms wrapped tighter around you and held you against his lap so that you couldn’t escape the onslaught of love, him laughing along too. A kiss to your cheek, your other cheek, your nose, your jaw, your forehead, your chin, your temple, your nose again, everywhere. And then, with a dramatic flair, he planted one last kiss to your lips, pulling away with a huge gasp of breath.

Through a laugh, as if he couldn’t quite take himself seriously, he whispered, “Proves that you leave me breathless.”

“Aaron,” you started, unable to hold back and talk through your laughter. “Baby…” More laughter. “Baby, that was so cheesy.”

“I know,” he said, moving a hand to the back of your head to push your face back into your neck, kissing your cheek once more as you tucked yourself back into him. “I know.”

The two of you sat there for a few more minutes in comfortable silence, Aaron’s soft breathing lulling you to sleep. His fingers gently smoothed over your back, his cheek once again leaning against the top of your head, and you felt genuinely happy.

“I love you,” he whispered, shifting around slightly to settle down further against the couch, “so much.”

You smiled into his neck, “I love you, too.” Your voice was muffled and you felt Aaron huff out a laugh at that before going back to humming an unrecognizable song, allowing you to breathe deeply, kiss his neck softly, and fall into a comfortable sleep.

Being in Aaron’s arms was the safest feeling in the world.

[theringers]

counting crimes - pierre gasly

illicit affairs, part three

summary: “wandering eyes and comfortable lies, you seem to sleep just fine” counting crimes / nessa barrett

a/n: i’m thinking there’s only gonna be two more parts but that may change, we’ll see. enjoy this and let me know what u think! feedback is always appreciated xoxo

also this gif today killed me

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, semi public sex shocker!, lil angst, cocky pierre

Your eyes widen as you try to comprehend what to do. Someone was at the door and Pierre was still inside of you, in shock. “Hey, y/n? Are you in there?” Max’s voice could be heard through the door. He tried to push the door in but the deadbolt stopped him.

You glared at Pierre, cleared your throat and placed a finger on his lips. “Yes, give me a few seconds.” You panicked and pulled your dress up, trying not to make too much noise.

Where the fuck was Pierre supposed to go? You should have just kept quiet. Your eyes focused on the window and you pointed towards it, quietly shoving him out.

He squeezed himself through the window and stepped down onto the grass. After quietly shutting the window, you looked in the mirror and readjusted your dress. Your hair needed some readjusting as well, so you quickly brushed through it.

You unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door to see your husband. “Hey,” he smiled at you, genuinely happy to see you.

“Hi, Max.” Your voice was shaking but you smiled to try to play it off. You usually had a good amount of time to psych yourself up before you went back to Max but you could still feel how Pierre had fucked you.

You were awful. He placed his hands on your hips and kissed your cheek. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You’re kind of hot.” He placed the back of his hand to your forehead.

“Yeah, it was really hot in there but I feel better now.” Hopefully he would buy that story.

“Well, if you’re feeling better now, I have an idea.” His hands rested on your hips again and pulled you into his body. “We have a few minutes to kill. What do you say we have a little bit of fun in here? It is our anniversary after all.” His lips found your neck and placed soft, gentle kisses on the skin. “You look so beautiful tonight, baby.” You were feeling sexually frustrated after being interrupted but he was right. It was your anniversary, so what the hell.

You leaned your neck to the side, inviting him in. “I love this dress, but it needs to come off.” He looked you in the eyes and smiled, reaching around for the zipper. He bent his knees and slowly pulled your dress to your ankles. His hands rested around your calves and move upwards while his lips trailed kisses on the soft skin of your thighs.

His finger pushed aside your panties and he slid a finger between your folds. “Jesus baby, you’re so wet.” He smiled and looked up at you. You moaned and rolled your eyes into the back of your head to avoid making eye contact with him. His tongue found its way between your legs, licking lightly before fucking your pussy with his tongue. You let out a moan while your body jerked toward his face uncontrollably. You needed him to finish you off so badly.

His fingernails ran lightly over the skin on your abdomen down to your thighs. “Oh, Max” you moaned.

Your hand quickly covered your mouth, remembering that even though he wasn’t out there possibly listening there were other people who shouldn’t hear you right now either.

He pulled his suit pants down and took himself in his hand, smiling at you. “I love you,” he said before entering you. He pressed against your body and thrusted up into you while looking in your eyes.

“I love you too, baby.” You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a moan.

Sometimes you forgot what it was like to have sex without the looming threat of someone finding out. Instead of worrying about someone catching you cheating, you were able to focus on the sensation and the intimacy but even now, something was missing.

Max left the bathroom before you, allowing you more time to clean up and look normal. You didn’t want to draw any more attention. “Hey guys, sorry I wasn’t feeling to well.” You said, grabbing your napkin off the table and taking your old seat. Max looked flushed for obvious reasons and couldn’t hide his smile.

You turned to your left and smiled at Pierre and Anna. “Did I miss anything?” Pierre’s gaze was glued to the stage ahead and he refused to look at you. His jaw was clenched and you could feel the steam coming out of his ears. You made eye contact with Anna and cocked your head in confusion. Why was he acting this way? Maybe Anna thinks it’s something she did wrong.

“Nothing important, for us at least,” she said, fixing single pieces of her hair.

Max’s hand gripped your inner thigh and he looked over to you and smiled. You returned the smile but immediately looked in Pierre’s direction to see him still refusing to look at you, his fist balled at his side.

Hotels in random cities at 2 am are lonely. The sound of Max’s snores kept you awake longer than expected. Your mind was wandering to places you wish it wouldn’t and you couldn’t get silence long enough to dream. The air conditioner in the room was set to the coolest temperature - hotel air always hitting different. Your mouth was dry, making you uncomfortable and adding to another thing making you unable to sleep.

You pulled the covers aside in frustration and grabbed a pair of shorts to put on under Max’s oversized Red Bull Racing shirt. You looked around for the room key and slid it off the table as soon as you spotted it.

As you stood in the elevator, you looked down and noticed your bare feet. It was 2 am so you were hoping there was no one important in the lobby. You just wanted a sip of cold water to help put you to sleep.

The night before races always made you nervous. You never knew what was going to happen so you had a constant pit in your stomach over your husband’s safety. That stress only increased when you began sleeping with another driver. Someone else’s safety to worry about.

You smiled at the older couple that greeted you when the elevator door opened. You crossed your arms and tip toed to the mini bar, grabbing the largest bottle of water they carried. After giving the gentleman your room number, you ran towards the closing elevator doors only to be met with familiar blue eyes. His hair was messy and his skin was glowing from sweat.

“Don’t mind me,” he said, stepping to one side. Even though he clearly just worked out you could still smell the strong scent of his cologne. “How have you been, y/n?”

“I’ve been okay. Your summer break looked fun,” you took a quick sip of your water and smiled at him.

“As did yours.” The silence was uncomfortable. You two were always laughing and talking nonstop. It was what you loved about him.

You focused on the pounding of your heart and your eyes wandered, trying to pass the uncomfortable time.

You suddenly lost your balance as the elevator shook, the lights flickered off, and the cables stopped. Turning your head towards Pierre, you began to get worried.

“Did this just break?” He asked, pressing the floor buttons and hoping the lights would come back on.

“Just our luck.” You laughed at yourselves. Why did the universe hate you? You plopped down onto the ground and twiddled your thumbs, realizing that you left your phone in the hotel room. “Do you have your phone?” You asked Pierre.

He lifted his wrist to show his apple watch. “I just went on a run. I never bring it with me on a run.” Of course he didn’t.

You groaned and banged your head on the wall behind you.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me.” He laughed, pleased with himself. He slid down to join you on the floor, the summer heat starting to creep into the elevator.

After not speaking for the entire summer break, this unconventional meeting was quite uncomfortable. You watched on Instagram as him and his wife vacationed in Bali, looking happy as ever. Granted, he did the same with you but he would never admit it. He had too much pride.

“Why didn’t you ever reach out?” You asked him, bluntly.

He looked at you making you feel dumb. “Why do you think I didn’t? I spent four weeks straight with Anna. Would you want me calling you up while you were on holiday with Max?”

“I don’t know,” you stumbled over your words. “I just would have liked to talk to you.”

“I told you before, I can’t keep doing this.” He said, exhausted at the back and forth you two had done.

“Yet, you do. You tease me and torture me and then say you need to be devoted to her. It’s not fair to me.” You let out a deep breath, exhausted over feeling this way.

“You want to talk about fair? You had sex with Max right after me. Less than five minutes after I was inside of you, he was too.”

You looked at him confused.

“I thought you were just going to talk to him for a few moments and then send him off.” Oh no. “I was waiting for you to open the window and let me back in.” He ran his hands over his face.

“Pierre, I’m so-”

“Don’t, y/n.”

He heard you and Max. You felt remorse for doing it, putting Pierre through that. But at the same time, you didn’t. Pierre is sleeping with his friend’s wife. He has no place to be jealous or mad. He comes second.

“How much did you hear?”

“I left when I heard him talk about how wet you were. He thought it was because of him but he had no idea that it was all for me.” Pierre scooted closer to you and put his hand on your thigh.  “He has no idea how wet you get for me.” He moved in closer to your ear. “How good I make you feel.”

Your head spun at his words. When he made you cum, you forgot about everything in the entire world except for him.

“I’m really sorry, Pierre. That was shitty of me.” You rested your hand on his chest. “Let me make it up to you.” Your hand moved to his thigh and grazed over his thin mesh gym shorts.

You pulled his shorts off and took him in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head. He pulled your loose hair into his hand as a makeshift ponytail. He let soft groans escape his lips, being mindful of the setting. He would look down to see you taking him fully and have to look away or else he would finish quicker than he would like. Each time his eyes trailed down, his hips thrusted uncontrollably and a grunt would leave his lips.

“That’s it baby,” he said, in a low tone but almost whining. “God, your mouth feels so good. It was made to take my cock.” He continued to fill your mouth and throat, making you gag and tighten around him.

He pulled your head up by your hair and looked at you. “Come sit on my face.” He looked at your outfit, examining how he could take it off in the easiest way possible. He slipped off your comfortable sweat shorts, leaving you in just your Red Bull tee.

He laid down on the ground and hoisted your legs up and around his chest, getting the perfect view of your ass.

You stroked his cock and started to grind your hips against his chest. He took you in his hands immediately, not up for teasing, and pulled you onto his face. You rocked your hips over his face at a slow, light pace while still focusing on taking him in your mouth.

His tongue flicked your clit while his thumbs massaged your ass, pressing down hard and most definitely leaving bruises.

You moaned at the feeling of your legs beginning to tingle. He loved to 69 with you because every time you got an ounce of pleasure, your moans vibrated around his cock. You would tighten your throat and gag, sending him down a spiral. You both knew how to make each other feel incredible.

His facial hair tickled your inner thighs and left light scratches on the skin. As you ground your hips into his mouth, the sensation got rougher but the pleasure just increased.

He used his ab muscles to thrust into your throat, looking for his release. You tightened your grip around the base of his cock and suctioned even harder with your mouth as he let go.

Your legs went fully numb as the tension began to build in your stomach. You reached your peak, hearing Pierre’s tongue lap at your juices.

You rolled off of his body, looking for your shorts. The guilt was already beginning to set in and you couldn’t escape it now. You were stuck.

Pierre wiped his mouth with his hand and you noticed his whole face was wet. He was still smiling.

“I just hope Anna and Max aren’t standing there waiting for us when these doors decide to open.”

“Wouldn’t that be the icing on the cake?” You laughed, brushing your fingers through your now knotty hair.

Pierre pulled his shorts back on and looked at you. “Now be honest with me, who eats your pussy better? Me or him?”

“You can’t ask me that.”

“I can and I did.”

“Well, I’m not going to give you an answer.”

He laughed at you, not the reaction you were expecting. “Don’t worry, I already have the answer. I heard the sounds you make when he’s between your legs. It’s nothing compared to the sounds you just made for me.” He winked at you, knowing exactly where you stand with him.

next part

[sekceesimps]

Shimmering Through Darkness (a Zhongli x reader oneshot)

summary:   Rex Lapis finally retires and allows for Zhongli to spend time with his darling. Basically just tooth rotting Zhongli retirement fluff with a lil spice!  (tried to make reader GN)

a/n  Schlongli is so sexy I can’t. This man is literally my entire reason for shifting. Hope all of you enjoy some fluffy Zhongli. Leave some feedback and drop a request! 

Sincerely Coffee 

Rex Lapis had been tired for so long. His responsibilities over the thousands of years in existence had drained him of strength and the will to continue his rule over the land of Liyue. 

He had been wandering the lands and been practically stripped of all purpose in his life. At least, that was until he met you. 

Your meeting had felt fated and arranged by powers far more powerful than him. Zhongli truly believed that the two of you were soulmates and quite honestly he was probably correct. He was ready to spend the rest of his entire life with you, however long that may be. 

Now the two of you had met by chance on one of your work ventures. He had been off at Wuwang Hill for funeral arrangements, a task that he found needless, but was thrust on him by the lack of workers at the parlor. You had gone there to investigate a slew of ghostly sightings, a task which you were loath to do alone. 

He had run straight into you while you were wandering around the houses looking for clues from a mysterious particle. Instantly, he had been captured by your stunning E/C eyes, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and body alert, but still relaxed. You had apologized for bumping into him and all he could do was stupidly stare at you open mouthed as you bashfully rubbed your neck with your hand. Ever the gentleman, he aided you with your commission and accompanied you back to Liyue Harbor. Well, next thing you know he’s inviting you to dinner and a few months later you’re living together. 

Your relationship blossomed much faster than either of you had expected. Zhongli was not going to complain though, every action of yours, as simple as it may be, seemed to spark something within him. Your very existence gave him reason to live and to plan a future that wasn’t a dead end one. 

He had been with many lovers over his years of existence, but none of them made him flustered or dream of keeping them close at his side. Zhongli prided himself on his calm composure, but when you gently ran your fingers across his knuckles or through his long dark hair, he was a blushing and speechless mess. To think that he was once the most fear striking and rageful Archon as you wrapped your arms around his lithe form and rested your chin on his head. 

You hadn’t really been shocked when he had told you that he was Rex Lapis. He was probably more surprised than you when all you did was shrug and leave kisses across his jaw. You truly are perfect for him, he thinks as you pull him to your side on the bed and shower him with love that he had not experienced in thousands of years. 

One of his favorite things to do with you is grasp your hand, lacing your fingers with his, and take you to all his favorite locations in Liyue. Really, his dates are just adventures of their own. He finds so much joy from being able to watch your eyes sparkle as he tells you a tale of a battle or an event that happened at a certain ruin or cliffside. His heart never fails to race when you rest your head on his shoulder and let him hold you close to his side. 

Living together was not something he wanted to ask of you, as you had yet to be married and his traditionalist ideals feared offending you. The concept of marriage was one of which he was beginning to entertain more and more. However, when you begin to stop accepting commissions in faraway regions, choosing to instead stay by his side more often, it leads to you not really being able to have a stable place to lodge. 

He was quick to use the Northland Bank’s funds to purchase a beautiful home slightly north of the bustling harbor. You were a little annoyed that he hadn’t consulted you and you could have paid for it yourself, however the pride in his eyes of being able to provide for you (ahem Childe provided for you, but neither of you say anything) just filled you with acceptance over the new developments. Shortly after, you decide to invite him to stay with you, not really knowing if he had even had a place to sleep in the first place. 

Zhongli preened under the attention you gave him at home. Almost every night, the two of you had accustomed yourselves to wrapping in eachothers arms and basking in the warm embrace of the other. These wonderful moments in your shared home gave him more meaning than he’d ever had before. His existence was now only to please and provide for you and your happiness. 

Retirement was an idea, just a faraway dream, that he could never be able to accomplish. He had his duties in Liyue! The people needed him to stave away threats and preside over the land. Yet, Zhongli no longer wanted to have dominion over Liyue, instead, he wanted to finally rest at your side. As the people of Liyue began to grow more self-sufficient, he began to see it fit to depart.

He had let the idea simmer in his mind for years, but now his plans could possibly reach fruition. He wasn’t like the Mondstadt Archon, Barbatos. Freedom was not his forte, he was the Archon of contracts. The great Rex Lapis had sworn to protect these people in the place he called home. As his definition of home shifted from the vast and diverse lands and mountainscapes of Liyue towards you and the warmth and love that you provided, his decision became clear. These people could care for themselves for the time being, and he wasn’t going to be going too far. 

When he broke the news to you, he had blushed at the way a smile broke across your face and you embraced him with fervor. He had planned for you two to live in your small home near the Guili Plains, but your begging to live somewhere with a few more people prompted him to decide to move to Qingce Village. After all, his home was wherever you were. 

You were the one who had to do most of the working and wage earning as he had no mora. He felt a bit guilty when you would come home exhausted every few days and he was just brewing some tea for the two of you. To be fair, the tea he made was very good and he was trying to master how to cook certain dishes so he could please you. 

Traditional husband and wife roles had shifted considerably as Zhongli was staying home and cooking and cleaning while he waited for you to come home from work. Your home itself was located in the outskirts of the village, allowing for a slightly longer travel, but privacy that Zhongli now desired. He was more and more relaxed and trusted you enough to mostly shed his troublesome human form. 

His draconic features were more apparent as he relaxed by your side in the spacious home. His golden eyes had a more prominent glow and two sharp curved horns protruded from his head. His nails were longer and more sharp and some days, parts of his skin would be shiny with scales. He was still in a human form for your convenience, however it helped him rest when he showed parts of his real body. Perhaps one day he’d show you his true self, but he’d have to do it in a secluded area, he is supposed to be dead after all.  

Zhongli in retirement was far more interested in children than he would have thought. While you might not have been technically married yet, something which he was eager to fix, he still wanted to start a family with you. After several long talks you decide to hold off for the moment, whether you want to have children or not, Zhongli is anxious to one day expand the home the two of you have created. 

Truly, he is much more domestic and eager to help you in any way he can. Especially in the bedroom. As he is slightly more dragon like now, those features seep into your more intimate moments. He’s more keen on marking and claiming you than he was before. Probably because he views you as his and is loath to allow others near you. He’s definitely more soft than before and prefers to have you guide the way. His yearning for that domestic life has really give you more control. It’s also given him a renewed focus on your pleasure and on taking care of you afterwards. 

Zhongli is glad that he found you. You’ve given him a sense of normalcy, a home, and love which he has never really felt before. You are his guiding light, his reason for life, and person he  wants to protect above all else. As his soulmate, you’ve cut through the darkness of the past several hundred years and provided him with everything he never knew he needed. 

a/n I’m currently writing Genshin NSFW HCs and I elaborate more about Zhongli there, so keep your eyes peeled! Hope you enjoyed this piece though. 

[ilyrafe]

𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒚 ✧ 𝒄𝒉 𝑽

pairing: charles brandon x duchess!reader

warnings: angst, a brief panic attack, forced kiss.

word count: 3,2k

taglist: @runawayolives​​ @kmuir1​​ @marytudorbrandon​​ @lharrietg​​ @shittingdicknipple​​ @alexa-fangirl-forever​​ @mis-lil-red​ @amberangel112​​ @ohmygoodie @itmejado​​ @radaofrivia​​ @scarlets-widow​​ @ragamuffin285​​​ @thereisa8ella​​​ @​​titty-teetee @dropletsofkaisoo​

a/n: shit goes down from now on just saying..........

redamancy masterlist | main masterlist

his guilt and conscience do not allow him to fall asleep and rest in his bed. if he wants to be civil and reciprocally, he needs to recognize when he is in the wrong and apologize. she didn’t do anything wrong, he shouldn’t have set such high expectations.

he puts on his robe and goes to the duchess’s chambers. strangely, he thinks it is a good thing that her room is far from his, just so he has time to think of the right words. it’s not the first time he’s been intimidated in her presence, and stuttering in front of her seems pathetic.

he takes a deep breath and knocks three times on the door. to his surprise, beatrice answers the door. 

“your grace.” she bows to the duke.

as he steps into her room, he smells roses and cinnamon, a different combination of scents, but just as pleasant. he can’t help but look into the duchess’s main environment, which is lit by candles in certain places. there are books everywhere and flowers from the garden that he recognizes. her dressing table has few items, just a small jewelry box, a brush, and a few hairpins, but her desk has lots of papers and a small leather-bound notebook that looks like a diary. being the curious creature he is, he’s already starting to wonder if she writes about him.

“charles?” y/n’s voice calls out to him, and she looks a little confused as to why he’s in her room in his nightwear.

she runs to put on her robe, even though charles saw her more exposed than usual. sensing her presence is no longer needed, beatrice excuses herself and leaves the duke and the duchess alone. charles mentally thanks the young woman as she leaves, because privacy is what he wants the most right now.

“i owe you an apology.” he starts. “i admit i should not have been rude to you at dinner, i hope you will forgive me. it will not happen again.”

once again, she can hear the sincerity in his voice. perhaps the image she has of charles is twisted. what if she is wrong about him?

“i owe you an apology, too.” she admits.

“what for?”

“for the way i have been treating, or mistreating you these past months.”

seeing her in a position of vulnerability is nearly shocking. it’s not even that much exposure from her, but charles sees her as a tough person, and hearing her words comforts him, because just like her, he feels sincerity and honesty in her apology. more than anyone else, he knows how hard it is to admit when you are in the wrong.

“oh, do not worry. you have your reasons and i understand.”

“even so, i shouldn’t have been such a monster to you.”

“it is all in the past.”

a small smile appears on her lips. apparently a white flag indicating a truce had been raised. charles says goodbye and goes back to his room, no longer feeling the pain in his back as he is always tense in the presence of y/n. his shoulders are relaxed as is his posture. with a smile on his face, charles goes back to his bed and for the first time since he got married, he sleeps peacefully.

(...)

a few weeks have passed, the eighteenth birthday of king henry’s new wife, katherine howard, approaches. the friendship between y/n and charles just blossoms, which makes the duke happier. conversations over dinner gradually linger, and making her laugh is almost a duty he gives to himself. it’s the most pleasant sound, and he finds it adorable when she covers her mouth when she laughs a little louder than usual.

they have a quite a lot in common. contrary to what she assumed, charles is far from arrogant. in fact, he doesn’t seem so fond of so many formalities. the way he talks about his parents, who are sadly deceased, is a little disheartening. he seems to need approval from others constantly, something she can relate to.

little by little, y/n manages to humanize in her own head the man behind the broad, strong body that charles has. there’s a sweetness in his blue eyes that she has been allowing herself to notice.

it’s difficult to get more information about her, though. y/n is very reserved and still prefers to spend most of her time by herself, which bothers him a little, and he still notices a little sadness in her eyes. he’s almost positive that something still disturbs her and he tries to make her feel comfortable enough to open up, but all of his attempts have failed.

give time to time, he keeps reminding himself.

(...)

the birthday party is grand, something the court and guests await. king henry always goes out of his way to show off to his subjects. the royal castle is a dream of gold, the most expensive flowers are everywhere, only the best food is being served, and the guests wear their most sophisticated attire. the king is ecstatic over his sixth wife, he will never spare any effort to make her happy.

the carriages keep arriving and more and more people enter the king’s castle. in one of them is charles and y/n, and both are as well dressed as the others in the royal court. y/n’s dress is stunning, and it’s completely different from the ones she’s ever worn in public. its rich emerald tone compliments her entirely, and the pearls in her hair soften her youthful appearance. charles is as well groomed as she is, but he opted for a monochromatic black attire, which makes him look even more imposing. regardless, they look complementary to each other.

“do not be surprised if male attention is focused on you.” he comments with a subtle laugh.

her puzzled expression cheers him a bit. he knows what is said about him and his wife, both the nasty comments and the most lustful ones.

he helps her down from the carriage and, with arms entwined, they enter the royal castle. as they are announced, all eyes turn to the couple. the king, upon seeing his longtime friend, goes to meet him with a proud smile on his face. the duchess’s distaste for the king is clear, but she knows how to hide it, for the sake of etiquette. after greeting each other briefly, charles and y/n follow to the main table, where the king is reunited with his wife.

“oh, you must be y/n!” the queen cheerfully says, properly ditching said etiquette. “your dress is marvelous!”

“thank you, your majesty.” y/n smiles.

the bubbly nature of the queen is pleasant; even charles thinks she’s quite funny with her antics. the age gap between her and the king is quite alarming, but she seems to be what holds him down a bit.

the music is loud, and the guests are all over the ballroom, either dancing or talking. for some reason, y/n feels unquiet. maybe it’s the heat, the loud noises or the constant glares she gets from other women. they don’t even try to hide when they’re obviously gossiping about her. she’s not entirely aware of her ‘fame’, but she knows she’s the subject of many conversations.

enthusiastically, the king taps his cup with silverware, drawing the attention of all the guests.

“first of all, i want to thank you all for coming to my beloved wife’s birthday, your majesty, the queen.” he says and hears applause for the sweet queen katherine. “happy birthday, my love. may the next few years of your life be as beautiful as you are.”

katherine blows her husband a kiss and he raises his wineglass to the guests. everyone raises their glasses and takes a sip, celebrating the queen’s life.

“i wonder how long this marriage is going to last…” charles comments under his breath, only y/n is able to hear, and she chuckles in response.

“i give it a year.”

they exchange a look, and when the music starts to play again, a few of the guests begin to dance in pairs.

“would you grant me a dance?” he asks.

as she looks around, she sees that her attention is focused on the king and queen. a dance won’t do any harm, she thinks.

“of course.”

he takes her to the center of the room by her hand, and soon they stand opposite each other to dance. if his memory serves him, he’s never been this close to her, and he takes this moment as an opportunity to really get a closer look, maybe he notices a new detail on her beautiful face? if he could, he’d spend hours memorizing every detail of y/n, because she’s so stunning, and with every observation she makes—of any subject—she becomes the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

y/n, however, is fighting all of her instincts. she doesn’t quite allow herself to look at charles. even though they are in a peaceful territory, he’s still the man who has been with her friends, he’s still the man who accepted her father’s offer to marry her in exchange for a mere position at the court. she’s certainly noticed his looks, and can’t deny that he isn’t as awful as she made herself to believe, and now she knows he’s an excellent dancer.

he guides her so masterfully and firmly, she feels safe, even though she isn’t very fond of dancing. regardless, he makes it feel pleasant. his eyes doesn’t leave hers for a second, but she looks around every now and then.

that’s when she sees a very familiar face, amidst all these people. one she would recognize anywhere, but the spin of the dance makes her lose sight of the person.

“is everything alright?” charles asks.

“yes…” she replies, toneless.

the dance continues, faster now. small heels mark the final part of the dance, and the noise of several shoes on the floor makes her uncomfortable. who is that person? the rhythm of the music picks up, people are talking loudly, the dance gets more energetic, and all she wants is to recognize that face. it can’t be.

she keeps searching for that face, but there are so many people in that ballroom, it’s pointless. the dance is making her feel a bit nauseous, she even contemplates leaving charles on the dance floor by himself, but when he bows down to her, she realizes the dance is finally over.

finally!

when they return to the main table, henry calls them to introduce them to the duchess of jämtland. even from afar, y/n can see how different the duchess is. pale complexion, light, straight and fine hair, bright blue eyes. she can’t help but compare herself to her. beside the duchess is her husband.

james.

the face she had seen. it’s him.

“charles and y/n, i would like to introduce you to my friends from sweden, your grace annika and her husband, james.” king henry says.

with each step she takes, y/n’s body freezes more and more, her heart beats faster and faster, and her breathing gets shorter and shorter. james is not at all shocked, more like afraid. only he knows the reason for the terror on y/n’s face at that moment, as much as she tries to hide it, he knows her better than anyone else in that room. she cannot move a single finger to greet the duchess and her husband.

“it’s a pleasure to meet you, your grace.” charles says to annika and kisses the back of her hand.

when he turns his attention to james, y/n feels like fainting. as if her two worlds are about to collide.

“this is my longtime friend, charles, the duke of suffolk and his wife, y/n, his duchess.” henry says.

“it is an honor to meet you, your grace.” james says, repeating the same gesture as charles, but now with the woman he once promised to love forever.

y/n is unable to move throughout the entire greeting process, and the situation only gets worse when she notices the annika’s subtle bump, which she doesn’t seem to hide that she is pregnant, as she takes her belly in with her hands.

“they are here to visit my kingdom and james is possibly going to war with us. sweden is our partner against france.” henry informs charles, completely unaware of the history between james and y/n.

“my apologies,” y/n speaks, trying to regain herself. “i’m not-”

“would your grace grant me a dance?” james interrupts.

he looks at charles with a silent request, and the duke looks at his wife.

“she doesn’t require my permission.” charles explains.

“ah, of course! a dance! charles, take annika to dance, james, you take y/n to dance. let’s all dance!” the king shouts, clearly a little inebriated.

everyone gathers in the center of the room and starts dancing.  y/n’s hands are shaky and a bit sweaty, and james tries to soothe her with his gaze. he tries to apologize, but knows she will never forgive him. after everything that happened between them… it’s almost impossible to believe it.

“i can explain.” he mumbles.

“don’t.” she simply says.

her odd behavior hasn’t gone unnoticed, though. charles has never seen her so pale before, almost as if she’d seen a ghost. he glances at them, and he knows she’s on the verge of tears. he isn’t dumb — it takes charles less than a few minutes to realize that james is the man y/n claimed to love, months ago. the way they’re looking at each other is more than enough proof.

“y/n, please.”

“she is with child.” y/n’s voice trembles with her own affirmation.

james is heartbroken, more than he was when they saw each other for the last time, over a year ago.

“we can still be together.”

his speech outrages her, and she is forced to withdraw. she runs as fast as she can to the large and vast garden of the castle, and hopes that no one will find her, but charles and james have gone after her, and a small commotion is caused in the hall, which is quickly contained. the poor swedish duchess is left confused.

she feels that the walls are getting tighter and tighter, or maybe it’s the dress that is too tight on her body that doesn’t let her breathe.

breathe.

breathe, y/n.

only when she manages to get out of the castle and into the huge garden is it possible to hear the silence and breathe fresh air, no matter how cold it is. it’s behind a big tree that she finally stops running. her chest is tight, beating faster than ever. it’s all so disappointing and confusing, she just wants it to be over.

she thought she had experienced pain before, but now it’s different. a mixture of hatred and disappointment washes over her like a wave, and she reduces herself to tears. the more she thinks about it, more tears roll down her face and her heart feels tighter.

she hears footsteps approaching, and to her surprise, james finds her. he looks just as haunted as she is, and he’s panting from running so fast to find her.

“my love-”

“no!” she protests. “you betrayed me, james! how could you?!”

“y/n, please…”

“how dare you?!” she inquires through her teeth, not even able to hide her anger. “how dare you come to me with a wife? with a pregnant wife?!”

“you must listen to me, y/n.” he says as he grabs her by her shoulders and forcing her to look at his eyes. “i could not get to you if i did not marry someone... important. i did this for you, my love.”

he pulls her against him and kisses her forcefully, but y/n manages to punch him in the chest and break free of his embrace. she pushes him away and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand harshly.

“don’t you dare touch me.” she barks through gritted teeth, her voice is full of rage. “you went to bed with her for me? how fucking stupid do you think i am, james? don’t you know me at all?!”

unbeknownst to them, charles is near, watching the fight, prepared to attack him if need be, but from what he sees, y/n is able to fend for herself. there’s no doubt he is the man she told him about, and charles can’t deny his jealousy, not even to himself. he’s never seen y/n so heartbroken before, and all of his instincts are telling him to intervene.

“i still love you!” james claims desperately.

“i suggest you leave her alone.” charles says with the calmest tone to his voice.

y/n is only able to breathe when she sees the duke, because he brings her a sensation of security. she’s even able to breathe a little better.

“who do you think you are to talk to me with this tone?” james challenges. “i couldn’t care less if you are her husband, your grace,” he says with a mocking tone. “we all know this is an arrangement. she loves me.”

“i am trying to be peaceful for her sake, but if you insist on testing me, i’ll lose my composure and end you.” the duke threatens, and his tone is as cold as winter nights.

both men are now face to face, close to each other, and the possibility of the fight becoming physical makes her desperate, as the last thing she wants is a scandal.

“both of you, stop! now!” she exclaims as she pushes the two tall, strong men apart. she knows james, and he can certainly be scary. he’s a tall, built man with fighting skills, but it seems that charles is his elevated match. “i will not tolerate a scene.”

“he started it!” james barks.

“stop it!” y/n protests. she regains a bit of control over herself and wipes her tears with the back of her hands. “leave,” she pleads. “we have nothing else to talk about.”

“y/n-”

“james, please! i do not want to see you ever again.”

outraged, james does as she says and leaves, but not before pushing charles with his shoulder on his way out.

“did he hurt you?” charles asks as he cups her face in his hands. the scary look is no longer on his face, as he is now concerned. her teary eyes break him completely. she looks so broken and hopeless.

yes. deeply.

“please, i must go home.” she begs and sniffles, never before having felt so small. “please, i am begging you.”

“yes, absolutely.”

charles takes her in his arms and soothes her before they leave. for the first time, they’re in each other’s arms, and both of them feel complete somehow. in this very moment, charles represents the security she needs, and she is the equivalent of what is missing in his life. the comfort she finds in his embrace is something she didn’t even know could be real. not even in james’ arms she felt such care.

did james care for her at all?

the most heartbreaking thing is that she can feel her love for james turning into absolute hatred and it is terrifying.

“i am here for you, y/n.” charles whispers before placing a kiss on the top of her head.

---

feedback is always appreciated! 

[paintedpeeta]

*climbs over your garden fence* have we headcanons for Father’s Day for our local Papa Peeta?

yes. yes we absolutely have 🧑🏼‍🦱👩🏽👧🏽🧒🏼.

okay so first of all you know those toasties just absolutely become his whole life, and he does everything for them so they always want to give him a special father’s day as a thank you.

his first father’s day was one of the happiest days of his life. their baby girl was only a couple of months old, so of course it was katniss who done all of the planning and gift-giving, but just being handed a card addressed to papa while his little daughter sleeps beside him set him off and he was a bubbling mess for the rest of the day. he keeps the card always, framed and in the office space of their house that he uses as an art studio. their daughter has absolutely no concept of the occasion, but she enjoys the day spent out at the lake with her mama and papa, cooing and kicking her lil legs in the shade.

and maybe katniss could have told him he was going to be a papa again on another father’s day. i think their son would be a winter baby so it sort of checks out that she tells him around this time of year, planning a special way to tell him but most likely just blurting it out while they have a picnic in the meadow. it goes right over their daughters head but peeta almost passes out, pulling his wee wife over for a giant bear hug and placing a thousand kisses on her face. “will we ever have a father’s day where you don’t cry?”

katniss always gives him a little heads up in the morning, waking him up with kisses and love before the toasts can get to him and wake him by diving onto the bed. she doesn’t want poor papa having a heart attack because chunky toddler toastboy has launched himself full speed onto their mattress while her husband is still asleep 💀

after they’ve all had their morning snuggle in the big bed, katniss takes the bubbies to make the breakfast. peeta offers to make the breakfast so they can have a lie in, but they insist on bringing it to him in bed so he sits and waits on them. katniss does most of the preparation when the toastbabies are younger, but as the years go on she gives them more and more leeway until she’s practically just supervising.

their daughter is so thoughtful and so her gifts are always perfect and from the heart. drawings done as carefully as her little hands can manage, fully concentrating to make it special for her papa. asking mama if she can buy little things from town, like brushes and paints and sketchpads. ribbons tied around bags of her papa’s favourite candies, or sweaters that mama made messily wrapped up with colorful paper and tape.

their son is a little bit more… scatterbrained(? i don’t think that’s the right word. i just picture their son being this lil wild ball of energy, but really sweet deep down) in his younger years, so his gifts are usually like a bunch of wildflowers torn up from haymitch’s yard and some rocks he found out in the woods 💀 but it’s okay because he’s so adorable and kind and peeta is so grateful to have this type of loving family that he treats all of their presents as if they were made of gold.

katniss of course has her own gifts for him, as a thank you for being such a good dad to their kids. it’s always kind of an emotional day for her too, because she lost her pa when she was so young but everyday she gets to see her own children grow up with an amazing and loving father. this is why they almost always spend the day in the woods or the meadow or at the lake, because she’s closest to her dad there and it’s the one way she can feel like her children also know their grandpa, who’d have loved them so much.

before their children come along it’s a hard day for peeta, because his relationship with his dad didn’t seem too great and he had a lot of healing to do because of his parents. it’s not until he has kids of his own that he starts to feel a reconnection with his own father, even if he still can’t wrap his head around why he allowed his wife to treat their children the way she did, he wants his babies to know about their grandfather who was kind and fair for the most part.

everlark also start to gift haymitch on father’s day, and when the toasties come along he gets a second card addressed to “grampy haymitch.”. the old drunk would grumble and go beet red everytime, but secretly he loves all of those kids so much and he keeps every single card given to him.

[laequiem]

Small Claims

/ Lorcan finally tells Elide that he thinks she’s his mate. Claiming follows. Fluff & Smut.

Fandom: Throne of Glass

Characters: LORD LORCAN LOCHAN / Elide Lochan

Rating: Explicit bay-beeeeeee

TW: a lil bit of blood

Lorcan Salvaterre didn't think he had any "firsts" left. Most of them had come to pass centuries ago. First fistfight when he could still count his age on his fingers. First real battle a few years later. First kill in his late teens. Those he remembered clearly. First kiss, first time getting drunk, first fuck—blurry meaningless memories he did not care to untangle.

Listen, my power went out when I sat down to finish this last week, so I decided that it’s cursed and that it needs to get out of my WIPs. So if it’s bad, please send your complaints to Hydro. Thanks.  

read on ao3 • masterlist

Lorcan Salvaterre didn't think he had any "firsts" left. Most of them had come to pass centuries ago. First fistfight when he could still count his age on his fingers. First real battle a few years later. First kill in his late teens. Those he remembered clearly. First kiss, first time getting drunk, first fuck—blurry meaningless memories he did not care to untangle.

In the last few months, he was surprised to experience new "firsts" with this force of nature he now shared his life with. Elide was the first person he cared about, the first person he loved. His first time having sex and feeling something more than pure lust.

And now, Elide Lochan was the first partner he ever had the urge to claim. Lorcan had bitten plenty of females before, but never broke skin. It was a part of his fae heritage that had never surfaced until he started traveling with her. He felt it first when they traveled with the circus and men kept hovering around her tent, trying to gage if they could bed the innocent fortune teller. He pushed the urge down, down into himself, refusing to acknowledge any feeling for her. He kept the urge at bay for long, even making fun of Whitethorn when he noticed the mark he had left on his Queen. But when Elide gave him everything, the need to claim her had flooded Lorcan's senses. It was not the time, though. Not when she was so insecure.

Since then, Elide has grown confident with her sexuality, initiating things even more often than he does. Still, Lorcan has not claimed her. He could not figure out how to ask her. 

His primal instincts are always stronger on mornings like this. When he wakes up and she sleeps peacefully next to him, hair swept away, exposing her throat to him.

"Lorcan?" she asks softly, tentatively, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Elide's voice is not as sleepy as he thought it would be. It sounds as if she has been awake for a while. She shifts to face him, hands coming up to rest on his chest.

"Can humans have a mate?"

Lorcan trails one of his hands up Elide's arm and inclines his head, a silent cue for her to continue.

"I dreamt of Aelin and her mate and I… I was wondering why you didn't have one." Her tone is so sad, Lorcan feels his heart twist. "If it is because you're demi-fae."

He lifts a hand to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking over her cheekbone.

"Not everyone has a mate, Elide. They're rare," she lets a little oh and he continues, "I used to think I couldn't have one. Not because of my human blood, but because of… Who I am. What I did."

"Used to?"

For so long, Lorcan had convinced himself that he didn't even have a heart left. That his power, like it does to his enemies, had rotted his insides to the point of rendering him heartless. Living only to inflict pain and slaughter. Then, he met Elide and his rotten heart had made itself known. Twisting and pulling, accelerating and stopping, until he had to admit to himself that he cared for her. At first, it was an inconvenience, a distraction from his mission and the Queen he thought he loved. When he betrayed Elide and sold Aelin to said-Queen, Lorcan could hardly live with himself knowing she hated him, that he had ruined what they had. Whatever that was.

And now?

"I don't… think that anymore."

"So why then?"

"Why what?"

"Why don't you have a mate?"

Lorcan removes his hands from her and rolls over on his back. He stares at the ceiling, trying to figure out what to say, how to say it. Words have never been his forte. Elide is so good with words, but it seems the talent is not contagious. She inches closer to rest against his side, head on his shoulder. Can she hear his heart thundering in his chest? Can she read the fear on his face? 

He inhales deeply, then exhales slowly.

"I think you're my mate."

There it is, the secret he has been holding for months now. He feels her still against his side and all his repressed worries to come flooding in. 

She doesn't want to be your mate. 

Who would even want that? 

You don't deserve her. 

You don't deserve anything. 

You've killed so much. 

You've brought on so much suffering. 

It would be unfair for you to have a mate. 

All she does, however, is ask, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't… I don't know how any of this is supposed to feel.” He rubs at his face with one broad hand. “I've never loved before, I don't know the difference."

Elide's fingers start tracing the outline of his pecs, toying with the dark hair there. 

"Neither do I. We're learning together."

Lorcan lets out a breath of relief. She isn't mad at him. She doesn't laugh at him. 

"It doesn't have to… change anything," he says tentatively, "I don't want to force this on you."

Elide shifts and leans on her elbow, staring at him with those devastating dark eyes.

"Lorcan, you never forced me into anything. I'm… honored."

He scoffs. As if. He already struggles everyday to remind himself that she does, in fact, love him. Thinking she would see being his mate as an honor was far beyond what he could imagine. She flicks his nose. He is not worthy of her and they both know it, the whole court—

"I'm serious," Elide chastises, "I wouldn't want anybody else."

Elide leans towards her husband and presses her lips to his. 

"Who wouldn't want Lorcan Salvaterre, second in command to Queen Maeve as a mate?" she teases, her hand trailing lower on his chest, "A strong fae male to scare my enemies."

"You're the only female fearless enough to want me," he replies, as serious as ever.

Lorcan shivers as her fingers slipped past the waistband of his underwear.

"Why would I be afraid," she croons, palming his semi-hard cock firmly, "when I have you wrapped around my finger?"

Lorcan snaps and rolls to be on top of her. This kind of talk always got to him. Of course, his wife's body is beautiful and perfect, but it's that cunning mind and sharp tongue that really made him lose his mind.

He nips at Elide’s lower lip and her lips part for him, allowing him a taste. She always tastes so sweet—strawberries and cinnamon, more addictive than any sugary treat. 

Lorcan groans as he witnesses her wide eyes, darkened by lust and need. He lowers his mouth to her neck, kissing and sucking the soft flesh. Her pulse rushes under her skin and his canines are aching to pierce and claim and—

He moves down to her chest before the feral thing inside him can fully surface. He focuses this energy on her breasts, knowing she likes him leaving marks for nobody but them to see. He palms one of her heavy breasts with one hand while the other seeks out her sex. Before he reaches his destination, however, she grabs his wrist and pulls him up to look at her.

"You're holding back," she simply says, "why?"

He must look absolutely savage right now—wild eyes, panting heavily, shaking slightly with restraint—for her to even bring it up.

"I want to claim you," he replies roughly.

Elide lets go of his wrist and for a second, Lorcan fears he drove her away. She understood that he doesn't deserve her and she doesn't want a life shackled to him and—

Her hand moves up to his nape and she lightly tugs on his hair.

"I want everything you can give me." 

Her other hand reaches between them and grasps him again, angling his length to line up with her.

Lorcan's breath hitches, "are you—"

"Yes. I want everyone to know you're mine."

Everyone knows, of course. He does not preside over meetings with her, but everybody notices the armored warrior standing in the doorway, a constant threat of violence etched on his face. The Lady's brute, he had heard some whisper. They're right. Her uncle had called him a brute as well. No amount of gentle kisses and magical braces would erase the centuries of pain he has caused.

Sensing her lover's hesitation, Elide bends forward to whisper in his pointed ear, "claim me."

Lorcan unleashes himself with a feral groan, any semblance of control he once had shattering to give way to the beastial fae half of him. He drives his cock into her heat in a powerful stroke, eliciting a surprised gasp and a giggle from Elide. 

With all his previous partners, Lorcan kept the kissing to the absolute minimum. But Elide's moans were a siren song to his ears, and he wanted nothing more than to drink them all up until he drowned. He claims her lips in a hungry kiss, so raw and unchained that their teeth clinked together.

Even with his lips on hers, his cock in her and a hand grasping her breast, he still needs more, more to touch, more to taste. By the way her hands roam his chest and claw at his back, his wife feels the same.

While he ruts into her, Lorcan reaches between them to toy with her clit, wanting—needing to feel her shatter on his cock.

She's mine, she's mine, she's mine. The words echo in his head with each slap of his hips against hers.

I have a mate.

Clap.

A mate.

Clap.

A mate.

As if she could read his mind, Elide echoes his thoughts in-between two short breaths, "my mate."

A shock passes through their bodies, heightening every sensation. The bond snapping into place, he supposes. It's overwhelming, better than any story Lorcan has ever heard. He feels her emotions, her love for him, as strongly as if they were his. He knows now more than ever that he wants to spend his whole life with Elide Lochan. That, no matter how short their time together would be, he could never live without her.

Lorcan hooks one of Elide's legs around his elbow while his other hand quickens its ministrations on her clitoris. The next thrust is deeper, angled just right, and Elide comes with a scream that will surely wake up the maids. He coaxes her through the waves of her orgasm, his eyes never leaving her flushed face. Beautiful.

As he feels his own release approaching, Lorcan leans towards her and drags his teeth down Elide's neck, inhaling her scent deeply. Just before erupting, he bites down, canines piercing the soft skin effortlessly. 

My mate, my mate.

Lorcan spills in her. Once. Twice. By the end of his climax, he is shaking all over. He finally pulls away from her neck, licking his lips, then running his tongue over the mark. He stares at it for a moment, admiring as droplets of blood start beading out again. Will she want to keep the scar, like Aelin did? The memory of it will live in his mind forever either way, just like their scent will always be intertwined now. The possessiveness is not a part of himself he is used to, and he feels quite ashamed of the primal nature of it all, but faeries are territorial creatures. 

Elide trails a finger up his throat and he leans into her touch.

"Am I supposed to… do it too?"

"Only if you want to," he says, brushing a strand away from her sweaty forehead.

She hums softly, considering. "Your throat does look bare without a scar."

"Do I not have enough scar for you, Milady?"

She laughs and Lorcan wonders if he will ever get used to the sound and how it makes his heart skip a beat. 

"I like your scars."

Elide pushes on his chest and Lorcan pulls himself out and twists to lay on his side next to her. She turns to face him and starts tracing a scar that spans the length of his biceps.

"Do you want one?"

"More than anything."

[laketaj24]

The God Ivar

Author’s Note: Hello peeps! I hope you enjoy this! I have one other one I am going to try to and get out sometime this week! Taglist open! Happy reading.

Warnings: Smut, Deflowering.

Pairing: Ivar X Reader

The horrors told of Prince Oleg likely held no flame to the truth of his cruelty; he meant to kill everyone he’d taken hostage, you knew it. You sat in the back of the hay-filled wagon with your hands gripped around the golden cross your mother had given you years ago. Prayer seemed to be your only hope, the only escape in your mind.

You started the small prayer beneath your breath, the mumbles turned into pleas, and they faded into sobs. Death awaited you behind the walls of the city. Your hands shook, wet and clammy around the cross, and you fell back on the chest of the quiet, bearded stranger.

“Will you shut up.” He growled beneath his breath. “You pray to a false god.” He said quietly. “Therefore, your cries will not be heard, your pleas for safety will not be granted.”

“God is real.”

“Odin is real.” He whispered as he shoved the wooden carving in your hand. “And if you were wise, you’d pray for the allfather to make your death quick and painless.” And as if you weighed nothing, he moved you from him and returned to stare out at the endless fields of green.

The Rus had a reputation of being swift, an arrow to the heart or a quick ax blow to the head. You’d replayed your death one million times by the times the carriage arrived at the gates, and for that reason, fear blanketed you as it halted.

You gulped, turning to the stranger beside you. “Who are you?”

“The God Ivar.” Prince Oleg screamed from his balcony. “I have always wanted to be in the presence of a God, and here you are before me, unclean, cripple, and a despot.” He cackled, throwing his head back and gripping the railing. “Bring him to me.”

The guards snatched him from the hay, his feet dangled, but there appeared to be no fear that touched him.

 The God Ivar

Nothing in you believed that he indeed was a deity, for if he possessed such powers, why would he allow himself to be captured, drug, and dishonored in that manner. Prince Oleg’s display of humility would only be the beginning, and if you knew that, indeed Ivar must.

Your fortunes turn, for they lead the other slaves back into the carriage, but they’d moved you to the palace swiftly and observed every inch of you, and it was determined you were to serve Oleg’s wife, Katya. The clothes provided were not the usual slave attire, heavy wool dresses that warmed you, and a fur jacket that kept the winter chill from breaching even near the windows. You were grateful, even found yourself smiling at your reflection for a moment. It must be a facade. The first task the head servant assigned was to clean her chambers, simple enough. No complaints rolled from your tongue for cleaning seemed better than death.

You started in the eastern corner, gathering dresses to be washed and shoes to be set in her closet. Katya possessed the finest silks you’d ever seen, and the jewels alone seemed unreal.

“Enjoying your new post?” The familiar voice came from the entry of the door. Ivar the God stood in the with furs draped on his shoulders and his face clean-shaven, gone were the battles of whatever past he’d struggled with, and before you stood Ivar, the God.

How does one greet a god? Bowing? You sighed and then looked up at him; Ivar was taller than you’d imagined. “Do you speak? I know you cry.” He whispered.

“I am enjoying it.” You answered with your head lowered as you bowed before him.

“Do not bow to me, please.” He cleared his throat.

“Are you not a god?”

Instead of answering, he continued to speak. “I talked with Oleg the Prophet, and you are to share my quarters.”

“Why?”

“Because those servants and slaves would see you dead by the morning.”

“Are you sure it is not because you intend to bed me?”

“Oh, I intend to bed you, but I feel it is easier if you are alive.” He shook his head arrogantly before he pivoted on the crutch. “When you are done with your duties, report to me; I will be in my room just across the hall,” Ivar said.

 There should not be excitement tingling through your body, but through every single nerve ending, you felt tiny bits of energy bouncing from around. He wanted to bed you, a no one, a god wanted to bed a peasant from East Anglia. A sin that no one had to know about if you were truthful with yourself. You were chosen by a god.

Katya’s chambers glistened, every inched of her floor cleaned, linens folded, and everything in place.

Your heart leaped as you answered the door and headed down the hall to his chambers. Why the fucking excitement?

Vikings lived in East Anglia, their settlements oftentimes were undisturbed and well-controlled by King Alfred, and the women of Wessex sometimes were pursued by their men. The exploits of these women deemed heathen behavior, and they were called harlots and unclean. Here it did not matter if you were bed by Ivar; no one would ever know.

You placed the carving of Odin on the small table as you entered his chambers. They were not as grand as Katya’s, nor were they clean. You fought the urge to clean and instead took notice of the bed in the corner. The covers were folded neatly at the foot of the bed and a dress; it seemed better than sleeping in the hay.

“Let me see you in the dress,” Ivar said from the corner of the room, startling you; he crawled from the space and pulled himself up onto the bed. “Go ahead, undress.”

The command came at you softly, and you did not disobey, shrugging the dress from your shoulders until it pooled loosely at your feet. Only your under gown remained; the white cotton felt like nothing in comparison to the other dress. You shed that dress, too, standing before the God Ivar bare and surprisingly free. The feeling was new. Never before had a man seen you naked, it was not allowed, and you had never wed. Your mother and father had larger concerns than marrying their daughter, and once the slavers caught you and realized you were a virgin, they knew you were a prize.

“How beautiful you are.” Ivar smiled.

“You think so?” You tried to hide the eagerness in your voice.

“You do not?” Ivar laughed. “You Christians, so humble, our gods do not see strength in your humility.”

“Perhaps that is why you are not humble?”

He shrugged and reached over to you, resting his cold hands on the nape of your waist. “I have never wanted to be humble; humility holds no power unless you are trying to trick your opponent.”

The corners of your mouth turn up, and you rest your hands atop him, gently rubbing the rugged leather gloves that cloaked his hand. You start in circles first and then dip down to his wrist where his skin starts. Indeed, Oleg had him scrubbed in soaps and oils because he was smooth now.

“Why the smile? Will your God have you burn in an everlasting fire for this?”

“You are my God now, Ivar.”

His eyes widen for a moment at your promiscuity, the desire that rang from your words, and he pulled you directly to his chest. “Is that so?”

“Yes, and I offer my chastity as my first sacrifice to The God Ivar. Is this a worthy sacrifice?”

Worthy Sacrifice. He hummed in excitement, relishing at the thought of delving his cock into your tight pussy. Ivar’s cock throbbed heavily against his thigh. Anticipation gathered in him.

“It is more than worthy. Are you sure you are willing to offer me your chaste?”

“More than.”

In Kattegat, some virgins threw themselves at his feet, begging to be ravished by a god, and that is precisely what he gave them, a stern fucking. He didn’t want to do this to you; you stood before him like an untouched, and Ivar wanted to make sure every touch he gave you made you crave him more.

Ivar moved fast, not asking for permission but seizing the moment. He swung you over to the bed and positioned himself on top of you. The furs and silk were rubbing against your back, sending different sensations throughout your body. You were overwhelmed, out of breath, and somehow more than ready to be ceased by him. He explored your body; first, his fingers crawled down your outer thigh up to your pussy. She was wet, glistening to be filled by him, and he knew it. Ivar did not take his time, unsheathing himself and rubbing his swollen tip against your swollen clit.

“All sacrifices require pain.” He said before pushing into you. His length was sheathed in your warmth, tightly stretching around him, and the pain seared hot as he stills, allowing you to adjust to his size. You sucked the air in through your teeth as you raked your nails down his back. There was a heartbeat in your pussy, throbbing on the thin line of pain and ecstasy. “See.” He hissed as he rocked into you for the first time, your toes digging into the bed beneath you. “It is worth it.” Ivar’s hands rest in the bed, and he formed a rhythm.

It was worth it, more than you thought as words failed you and the pleasure began to surge through you. For years you’d kept yourself pure in hopes of finding a husband, someone worthy of the gift God gave you. But now you realized the wait was just for Ivar; every minute of it was for this moment of being consumed by him – given to him, The God Ivar.

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[morganaspendragonss]

turn to dust all that i adore

whoops it’s a 2b spec fic based on two seconds in a promo love that

title from things we lost in the fire by bastille

ao3 | 2.3k | 2b spoilers

The fire continues raging whenever TK closes his eyes, and he doesn’t know if it’s better or worse than the sight that greets him when his eyes are open. He wishes he could wipe that awful night from his memory completely and go back to where they were just a few days ago, happy and safe and in their home. They don’t even have that anymore, the house little more than ash, and TK would be okay with that - they could rebuild from that - if Carlos weren’t so silent and still in front of him. 

The fire was three days ago; TK hasn’t seen Carlos awake in four. He’d been in the middle of a 24-hour shift when the call came through, bickering with Nancy about the merits of various sitcoms, Captain Vega probably rolling her eyes in the back as they returned to the station. 

Nancy had quietly offered to drive when they found out the address, but TK had shaken his head. His hands were tight on the steering wheel, and he’d pressed down a little harder than necessary on the accelerator, praying he’d be able to get there fast enough. The house was a lost cause, if what dispatch said was true, but if he could save Carlos, then that would be enough.

He’d failed - of course he had. An explosion had ripped through the building just as they’d pulled up, the glass shattering as flames leapt from their bedroom window. TK had felt a cold dread settle inside him, and his worst fears had been confirmed when the team emerged with Carlos limp in their arms.

He’s alive, but the damage had been done. Too much smoke inhalation and multiple horrific burns left him hanging by a thread; it’s a miracle, really, that the heart monitor is still beeping out a steady rhythm. TK can’t be thankful, though, not when he knows everything could turn on its head in an instant. Not when they’ve already lost so much.

A soft knock on the door grabs TK’s attention. He looks up to see his dad standing there, a sad smile on his face and a plastic-wrapped sandwich in hand. TK twists his face into a grimace and returns to watching the bed.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Son -”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’ve been saying that for days,” his dad points out, walking over and pointedly laying the sandwich in TK’s lap. “Starving yourself isn’t going to make him wake up any faster.”

TK barely spares the sandwich a cursory glance. “Nor is forcing myself to eat.”

His dad sighs, crossing the room and grabbing the extra chair. He sets it down next to TK’s and, though he doesn’t look, TK knows he’s being subjected to one of his ‘dad looks’.

“TK, you’ve barely left the hospital since it happened,” he says. “I know it’s hard right now, but you can always come back and stay with me. You still have a home.”

“Not without him, I don’t.”

He hears his dad’s sharp intake of breath, feels his hand running through his hair, but TK’s detached from it all. He studies Carlos’s face, every part familiar to him, but so strange and foreign now. Carlos has never been a restless sleeper - that’s all TK - but there’s usually some movement. A crease appearing between his brows as his face scrunches up, his muscles shifting as he pulls TK closer, his nose gently nuzzling the back of TK’s neck. This still version of him isn’t Carlos. This isn’t the man TK loves.

But it’s close as he’s going to get until Carlos comes back to him, and TK can’t stand the thought of leaving him. In all the months they’ve been dating, they’ve rarely spent a night apart, and most of those were either on shift or still in their bed, with a pillow that smelt like the other and the promise of seeing each other again soon. Going back to his dad’s house would only be bearable if Carlos were with him, but that’s not possible, so neither is leaving.

“TK, I -”

“If you’re just here to give me this,” he interrupts, waving the sandwich in his dad’s direction, “then, thanks, but you should probably go now. His parents are coming in a bit and the hospital barely lets three of us be in here as it is.”

His dad recoils, wounded, but doesn’t budge, much to TK’s irritation. He’s really not in the mood for any more meaningless talk or thinly veiled attempts to get him to eat or sleep.

“Dad, please.”

“I was contacted by the PD this morning,” his dad says instead. TK’s head snaps up, eyes wide. “They found out what caused the fire.”

TK waits, but his dad suddenly becomes very reticent, his eyes flicking between TK and the bed. Clearly, this wasn’t something as simple as the electrics blowing or the washing machine malfunctioning; it’s worse, and TK’s breath seems to stick in his lungs.

“Dad?” he croaks.

Their eyes finally meet, his dad’s face arranged into a sympathetic grimace. “It was arson.”

Time stops.

“What?” TK breathes, shaking his head. Arson. Someone burned their home down and almost killed Carlos, on purpose. And for what? To kill them? The only reason TK wasn’t caught up in it too, after all, is because he was fortunate enough to be on shift that night. “Do they know who?”

“I’m sorry,” his dad says, voice full of regret. “It’s been happening all over the city, no leads so far.”

TK sits back in his chair, a white-hot spark of anger flashing through him as he once more takes in the many bandages on Carlos’s body. He wonders if this was how Judd felt those weeks ago when he found out the guy who’d run them off the bridge was also in the hospital, because TK would very much like to go out and find the people who did this. He wants them to pay for what they’ve done to the love of his life.

As is sensing where his mind has gone, his dad starts rubbing gentle circles on his back, though it doesn’t calm TK like it usually does.

“I think I’ll stay here until his parents show up,” he says. “If that’s alright?”

It’s a non-question; his tone makes it clear that he’s not going anywhere no matter what, but TK doesn’t have it in him to put up even a token argument. He simply nods wearily, and settles in for another day of waiting - another day without his boyfriend’s comforting presence at his side.

*

A week after the fire, he’s told he can go back to the house, if he wants. He doesn’t, really, but he goes anyway, knowing that Carlos will have questions when he wakes up, and maybe he’ll be able to salvage something.

Probably not, but it’s never been the stuff that’s mattered to him. It’s been what the loss of it all represents, the memories that now exist only in his head and in the ashes.

TK stares up at the blackened husk of their home, something keeping him rooted in the middle of the street. Police tape is still up and there’s an officer waiting to escort him in when he’s ready, but TK just… He doesn’t know if he can do this.

“TK?”

He jumps at the unexpected voice, turning to see Carlos’s neighbour from two doors down, Molly, her daughter trailing behind her. TK doesn’t know many of the people around here, but Molly and her husband are often to be found playing with Lilia on the porch, and they always make a point of greeting them. Carlos has even babysat for them a few times, though TK’s rarely there for that.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she says, smiling apologetically. “How are you doing?”

He shrugs. “I’m okay,” he replies, and Molly seems to understand what that really means. “Carlos is still in hospital, but we’re, um. We’re hoping he’ll wake up soon.”

She nods, glancing at the house. “It’s terrible, what happened. You’ve got somewhere to stay, right?”

“I’ve only just moved out of my dad’s place, so I’ll just go back there while we figure something out. Guess he’ll be glad we don’t have to transport all my stuff this time.”

The joke is hollow, and Molly’s face twists in sympathy. “Well, if you need anything, we’re happy to help out however we can. Carlos has always been good to us - to everyone here - and we hate that you’re going through this now. Send him our love, okay?”

TK gives her a small smile, nodding. He’s about to excuse himself to finally go inside, when Lilia tugs at her mother’s hand, whispering something in her ear when Molly leans down. 

“We were baking when we saw you pull up,” Molly explains, straightening. “Lilia insisted on bringing these out to you, didn’t you, Lils?”

Lilia beams up at him when TK looks over to her, thrusting a small tupperware in his general direction. “Cookies!” she exclaims, by way of explanation.

TK chuckles and squats so he’s at her height, taking the box from her. She’s watching him expectantly, so he takes a cookie - clumsily decorated with mountains of sprinkles - and pops it in his mouth, making a show of enjoying it.

“My compliments to the chef,” he says, licking his lips playfully. Lilia giggles, then, without warning, throws her arms around him, the force of it almost sending him on his ass. Molly gasps and reaches to pull her daughter away, but TK shakes his head at her, mouthing an, It’s okay.

Steadying himself, he gently wraps his arms around Lilia’s back, allowing her to bury her face in the crook of his neck as she attempts to squeeze him within an inch of his life. It’s enough to pull a real smile out of him, though tears also spring to his eyes, a sudden emotion overwhelming him. He brushes them away hastily when Lilia unwraps herself from him, but it’s clear that Molly noticed, judging by the sad smile on her face.

“I hope Mr Carlos gets better soon,” Lilia says, her voice earnest in a way only a five-year old’s can be. 

TK nods. “Me too.”

“He gave me sweets.”

A laugh bursts out of him at the sudden comment. TK leans close to her, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Shall I tell you a secret? He gave me sweets as well.”

Lilia gasps as though she’s heard something incredibly scandalous. TK laughs again, before standing back up and turning to Molly, who’s been watching the two of them with clear amusement.

“Thank you,” he tells her. “For coming out and talking, and for the cookies.”

“It’s the least we could do,” she says, waving him off. “Like I said, let us know if you need anything, even if it’s just to talk. We’ll be there.”

TK thanks her again, waving at them both as they head back inside. He turns to his and Carlos’s place, then takes a deep, shaky breath.

He can do this.

*

Inside is much as he expects. The worst of the rubble has been cleared, but there’s still some detritus lying around, including a few of their things. TK stoops and carefully retrieves a framed photo from the floor, wiping the dust off the cracked glass. The picture inside is barely recognisable, the colours warped, but he knows the image like the back of his hand - a candid of him and Carlos taken by Marjan during one of their hangs. She’d caught Carlos mid-laugh, a grin plastered on TK’s own face as they’d stared into each others’ eyes.

Marjan had grumbled about how frustratingly lovesick they both were, but the photo quickly became one of TK’s favourites, and it had made its way into a frame less than a week later. TK’s heart aches at the sight of it ruined; he can always print another as it’s still saved on his phone, but it still hurts. Everything does, right now.

As he gazes around the space, eyes catching on mementos and remembering how it all used to look, TK is struck by how much this place had felt like home. He’s only been officially living here for a month, but it’s been theirs for far longer than that, TK’s stuff worming its way in among Carlos’s until it became natural to see two pairs of shoes by the door, two sets of keys in the bowl. 

This was theirs, and now it’s nothing.

He drops the photo frame on his way out the door, not sparing a look back as he walks away.

*

He gets the call halfway back to the hospital and TK forgets all about speed limits as he races the rest of the way. He sprints through the corridors, the path to Carlos’s room learned by heart, and skids to a stop in the doorway, his eyes filling with tears at the sight before him.

Carlos, awake and smiling and alive.

TK lets out a sob, his hand flying to his mouth. Carlos turns, his smile widening when he catches sight of him, and he wordlessly lifts his palm up in invitation.

And who is TK to refuse it?

“Hi, baby,” he gasps, before kissing his boyfriend, palms framing Carlos’s face. Carlos’s hands come up to clutch at his wrists, and TK presses their foreheads together, silently revelling in this moment.

There’s a long road still ahead of them - Carlos needs to heal, and they’ll have to do so much to get back on their feet - but he can’t care about that right now. Being here, right now, with Carlos’s warm touch stroking over his skin, is all TK needs.

Carlos came back to him, and that’s the only thing that matters.

[pomegranates-and-blood]

Στέργηθρον (Vοσταλγία Winter Blurb)

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Στέργηθρον (stérgēthron): love, affection. Also paternal love. (Ancient Greek)

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Summary: Winter Blurb #3. They talk about the future, kinda.

Word Count: 1938 (again, you should have seen this coming)

Warnings: A lil of lingering issues from Πολεμέω, and allusions to/mentions of sex. Then, just fluff and my writing lol.

A/N: This is the continuation of Πολεμέω, which you can find right here. I think you can read it as a standalone though.

“I don’t want us to fight, I don’t want to fight you.” You offer, feeling strangely like this push for ceasefire is yet another step in a war he refuses to stop fighting on.

“And I have to agree, do I not?”

“What?”

“Because everything is about what you want.”

“What!?” You shriek. He cannot possibly have the audacity to say that. “I was put in chains because you wanted me to come with you to Kattegat, I was made your wife because you wanted me to be! Tell me, how is everything about what I want?”

He lifts himself up on one elbow, facing you.

“I couldn’t have you as my wife until you wanted to be, there was nothing I could do to make you-…” He furrows his lips petulantly, looking to the side as his words die. A deep, angry breath through his nose, and then, “I had to accept that deal you offered, because it was what you wanted.”

“That is how things work, Ivar! You cannot have things just because you wish it so!”

“But you can! You do!” He retorts, not missing a beat, “If you wanted the Greeks, you could have them, and there is nothing I could do to stop you! If you wanted Kattegat, even if you didn’t, you have it! Even when you didn’t want me, you had me!”

You don’t have to fight, is what he doesn’t say. He has to fight, he has had to fight, but you haven’t; at least how he sees it.

There’s nothing you can say to change that, because he is right. To you not everything is a battle, but to Ivar it is. You may rage against the world that made it so that he lives in such way, you may ache for a peace he may never know, but there’s nothing you can do to change that.

Instead, you offer something else. If anything, you can promise that for you, for this, he doesn’t have to fight anymore.

“And you had me. You have me.

You lean closer, searching gaze and feeling your chest a little lighter when his expression softens when you get close enough. You cannot help but think of that morning in the main hall, where you started to see these barriers that he puts around himself, and what happens when you cross them.

“For as long as they are within my reach, I will want to protect them, that won’t change,” You confess, before taking a deep breath. “But when spring comes, and they set sail back to their home, they will do so with nothing more than my blessing. You know this, yes?”

Pale eyes search yours, and though you do find the answer to your question written in them, you know him well enough to know he won’t voice it.

Instead, Ivar asks, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You take a deep breath, and offer the best truth you can, “I still think I ought to keep…keep you and them apart. For too long I believed that as long as they existed, I wouldn’t be able to…” Your voice dies as you try finding the words. You find yourself having to resist the impulse to twirl your wedding ring on your finger, now that your hand is trapped in your husband’s. Choosing instead to look at your joined hands, and finding it offers much more comfort than that repetitive motion of your fingers on the ring ever would, you continue, “I will always look at them and think of losing you. I want to keep them safe, I want to protect them, but not at the cost of…this.”

He remains silent after your words, for enough breaths that you have to lift your eyes to try and read something in him. Of course, you find him already looking at you, the smallest of furrows between his brows that you itch to reach up and trace with your fingers.

“Don’t hide things from me.” He reminds you, an order and a request all in one.

“I didn’t,” You retort, and when he immediately opens his mouth to argue, you find yourself chuckling and leaning forward to press your free hand over his mouth. “Listen to me.”

Ivar lifts his eyebrows, but obediently stays quiet. Slowly, you move your hand from over his mouth, allowing yourself instead a caress of the side of his face, fingers trialing over the scar over his cheekbone.

“I’m listening.” He prompts you, and you both ignore the way he leans into your touch.

“The scouts never had orders from me to keep quiet about my questions about the Greeks. I didn’t try to hide it, I just didn’t tell you.”

Your husband furrows his brow again, though there’s playfulness in his pale gaze, and your heart beats a little easier now.

“That is your defense?”

“It’s the truth,” You offer with a shrug. Searching his eyes, you press, “And I do trust you. More than anyone.”

Your words prompt a smile to curve his lips. Small, subtle, and softer than you deserve.

Ivar leans the distance that separates you, claims your mouth in a demanding kiss that for once you surrender to, letting him and the hungry way his teeth bite down over your lower lip take whatever it is you have left to give, letting him and the hand that tightens its hold on yours ground him as much as it does you.

When you part you refuse to move away, lips barely touching, breaths one.

Your eyes are closed, but you can feel Ivar’s piercing gaze on you.

“I love you, Ivar,” You tell him, because you may need to say as much as he needs to hear it. “More than anyone, more than anything.”

It is almost imperceptible, the way he nods faintly, as if accepting your words, as if promising he knows that; before he crosses the distance between you again, kissing you and promising the same words back with nothing but reverent touches of his hands, and the surrendering of his body and heart to you.

When his hands grip at your body a little tighter, a little more hungrily, more desperately as you lose yourselves in each other; you say nothing. And when you leave with nails and teeth more marks than you usually do, he doesn’t say anything either.

Later that night, with the cold air of this land over your bare skin, though you will admit you do not much mind the cold when Ivar’s warm body is laying against yours, you find yourself going back to his words of before.

“What is it you want, then?” You ask, and it is after a few breaths that Ivar lifts his head from your stomach to look up at you. Pale eyes blink away the lure of sleep as he considers your words.

A furrow between his brows that this time you do reach to trail with the tips of your fingers until it disappears, he rests his chin on your stomach and asks,

“What are you talking about?”

“You said I get everything I want. Well…I want to know what it is you want.”

“Why?”

“So we can fight for it.” You promise, a smile that trembles a little on your lips.

“I want you.” He confesses, quietly. You reply with a shrug, because it is an easy answer.

“You have me,” You promise as you let your fingers run through his loose hair. “What else?”

He hesitates before speaking, which puts you on edge more than you would have thought it would.

“You told me once that…that we could have children,” His words make your breath get stuck in your throat, and the foolish prick of tears in your eyes makes you blink a few times as you look at him. Ivar searches your gaze, before asking, “Did you mean that?”

It is hopes you haven’t dared think of, a future you aren’t sure what you’ve done to be allowed to have, dreams Hiereia of Persephone shouldn’t have.

But you nod your head, because you aren’t sure you can voice it. Your smile is tremulous, more fragile than you’d like for it to be.

Ivar says nothing, but there’s a smile on his lips as well, and his hands are warm and soothing as they go up and down your sides.

He nods his head once, as if to say it is set in stone then.

“That is what I want, then. I want you, I want…I want us to have children,” He promises. If we name things, we make them real. “I want them to speak your tongue and mine, I want…daughters that are like you, and…and sons that will protect you. I want them to tell my story, I want…” He stops himself, and you are startled out of a daze when his words stop. With each hurried promise, with each stumbling admission of hopes you don’t dare imagine how long he’s kept to himself; you were losing more and more of your heart, even if it isn’t yours anymore. Ivar searches your gaze, and insists, “We will fight for it.”

A dare, a command, a plea.

“You have my word. We might have already started fighting for it,” You quip with a side smile. At his silence, you ask, “Haven’t you thought about it? We’ve had sex, Ivar. I might be with child soon.

For a moment it is as if he has just considered the possibility, and Ivar’s eyes widen, lips parted as he lifts himself up on his elbows, looking down at your stomach before meeting your gaze again.

The unbridled hope, so unguardedly left to shine in pale blue eyes that almost seems like desperation, makes your chest pull tight, and the chuckle you are able to answer with is watery and trembling at best.

“It takes a little bit of time, usually.” You remind him, nails trailing slightly on the shaved side of his head.

“Do…do you think I can?” He asks. The question doesn’t make much sense to you, and at your frown Ivar swallows thickly, and presses, “Do you think I can have you carry m-my child?”

“Why couldn’t you?”

“The Gods have a cruel sense of humor?” He tries around a chuckle that is entirely too bitter for you to consider it honest.

“Of course you can, my love. We’ll fight for it, yes?”

His answering smile is a little lost, a little disbelieving; but your words are enough of a prompt for him to move himself back up your body, a few scattered kisses up your stomach and between your breasts before he is face to face with you again.

His gaze drops to your lips for a breath before he dares kiss you, fingers trembling slightly where they grasp gently at your chin.

Your hand at the back of his neck demands more from his kiss, while the pliant movement of your lips against his keeps its sweetness.

When you part there’s familiar hunger in his gaze, a familiar darkening of the blue of his eyes. Ivar licks his lips, voice slightly rougher when he promises,

“I love you,” His breaths quicken, and he presses closer to you, letting you feel him hardening against your core. With familiar hunger tightening low in your belly, coiling like a serpent, you tilt your head up, claiming his mouth again. You bite down softly on his lower lip, soothing the bite with a lick that makes him shudder, and that reaction only makes you want him more. Ivar rasps against your lips, “I want you.”

____ ____ ____

Thank you for requesting this! Hope you liked it! If there’s anything you wanna see come to my inbox! I’m having a lot of fun with these!

Also, I took a little longer than I intended to post this, so as an apology I’ll post another one of these blurbs. It will be up hopefully before the end of the day 😊

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