#looks elegant like he's leaping not running

[sarahreadstoomanycomics]

The way that Max is running here.

[imthebadguyyy]

the bridgerton blues

pairing : anthony bridgerton x reader

fandom : bridgerton

synopsis : it's the first time after your wedding that anthony sees you sporting the signature bridgerton colour : blue, and it does things to him that he can only express in a much more....physical manner.

warnings : smut, heavy smut and excessive amount of fluff

a/n : i miss my grumpy viscount!!! happy reading :)

anthony huffed impatiently, foot tapping against the marble floor at bridgerton manor.

the season had begun again, and much to his relief, he would only be a spectator this year, having married the love of his life, lady, well, current viscountess y/n, which meant he didn't have to deal with the frills and fancies of the hawk like mama's in the ton, awaiting the right moment to swoop upon him with their daughters.

but by God, you were taking forever to get dressed and come down to leave for lady danbury's ball. beside him, benedict and colin sat, engrossed in a game of chess, while francesca and eloise lounged on the couch in the drawing room, catching up about life.

his mother was with his darling wife, much to his surprise, helping her get ready for a ball. he had been caught off guard when his mother had bustled in, dressed in a powdery blue gown, and had proceeded to shoo him out of the room.

"what exactly is keeping mama and y/n?" colin asked, brow furrowed in concentration as he focused on the chess board.

"if I knew I would tell you brother" anthony mumbled, checking the watch that hung on the golden chain from his waistcoat, smiling as he traced the cover, suddenly hit by a burst of nostalgia, and a surge of fondness for his late father.

he brushed it off when a giggling hyacinth came running down the staircase, leaping into his arms, forcing him to rush to catch her, eyes widening in surprise.

"hyacinth! you must always give me a prior warning or I may not be able to catch you" he chided, tucking a stray curl behind her ear and setting her gently on the ground.

"brother!! wait till you see y/n/n!! she looks like a princess!" his youngest sister exclaimed, almost vibrating with excitement. a shy gregory emerged, blushing a little as he nodded, making the three older bridgerton boys smirk, well aware of his little crush on anthony's wife.

when anthony had first befriended his wife, they had been at a mere age of ten, and anthony had rescued y/n when she had fallen off her horse at a picnic with his family and the cowper's.

ever since then, they had been inseparable, joint at the hip and at the heart.

it was of no surprise to anyone in the ton when finally, ages later, he had announced he was marrying the lady montgomery, or as everyone fondly knew her, "y/n/n"

"why so bashful greg?" benedict jested, watching his youngest brother turn a dark crimson.

"n-nothing" he stuttered out, darting in to see his sisters.

"it's because of y/n! I'm telling you brother, she looks like an absolute angel!" hyacinth chirped in, now bouncing about from step to step, just as the door of Anthony's room creaked open, and the dowager viscountess stepped out.

"she's ready" she smiled warmly at her son's, hurrying in to get her daughters to mark the momentous occasion.

brows furrowed, the eyes of the bridgertons rested upon the long winding staircase, awaiting to see what exactly was this magical outfit that had their mother and sister gushing like birds.

and what anthony saw, made his jaw drop to the very ground.

at the very top, his darling wife came into view, hair in sleek, meticulous curls, perfectly cast up in an intricate updo, adorned with pearls, framing her face with the delicate curls. her makeup was subtle, emphasizing her flowing complexion with a touch of rosy blush and wine coloured lips.

she adorned a pearl necklace and matching earrings, gifted to her by anthony himself, adding a timeless elegance to her stature.

but what really caught everyones attention was the dress that she wore, more specifically, the colour of the dress she wore.

a rich dark blue silk gown, carefully tailored, hugged her frame, showcasing the intricate details that add to its allure. the bodice, adorned with delicate embroidery, depicting subtle butterfly motifs that caught the light as the she moved down the stairs. the neckline gracefully framed her collarbone, delicate lace butterflies attached to the neckline,while the sleeves tapered down to her wrists, showcasing more of the exquisite lacework that adorned her body.

the skirt of the gown was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, flowing generously in layers of silk that rustled with each step. the deep, rich hue of the fabric evoked a sense of opulence, reminiscent of midnight skies. as she walked down, the silk caught the light, casting a mesmerizing play of shadows and highlights.

the dress matched anthony's waistcoat perfectly, and the sight was enough to make the viscount choke over nothing.

as he saw his wife adorned in the resplendent dress for the first time, his eyes widened with genuine admiration.

a hushed gasp escaped his parted lips as he took in the sight before him.

his wife, cloaked in the elegance of the dark blue gown, the bridgerton blues appeared to be like a living portrait of timeless beauty.

a warm smile formed on his lips, expressing both surprise and deep appreciation for the grace and sophistication she was emanating.

"my darling" he murmured as he swept forward, extending his arm to welcome you into them.

smiling sweetly at the bridgerton clan, you floated down, linking your arm with anthony's.

"sister, you look utterly perfect in blue!" benedict exclaimed, pressing a delicate kiss to your hand, as violet fondly caressed your cheek.

"doesn't she look like a princess brother?!" hyacinth squealed, looking excitedly at anthony. "just like one out of the fairytales" he said, looking at you with nothing but admiration and love and fondness.

"you really do look utterly regal" colin said, flashing a warm smile at you. eloise and francesca came upto you, with even eloise admitting that the dress you were wearing was nothing short of a work of art, while francesca gushed over how the silhouette was so perfect for you.

"alright, we must leave if we want to reach lady danbury's ball on time!" violet said, clapping her hands, leading her children out to where the carriages awaited.

"wait behind for just a second my love" anthony whispered into your ear, as he walked up to his valet to whisper something into his ear.

slowly, the other bridgertons departed, after you promised them to join them very soon, ignoring the smirks and nudges colin and benedict sent your way.

anthony pulled you into his study, hand gently caressing your waist, feeling the rich silk in his hands, the other hand gently reaching for your chin, lifting it to look into your eyes.

"you look utterly divine my beloved" he whispered fingers gently fondling your face, eyes absorbing every detail of your face, not that he hadn't already memorised it.

"thank you my dear" you whispered back, hands settling on his broad shoulders, taking in his waistcoat as well, the dark blue velvet clinging to every rippling muscle in his body, brass buttons complementing the coat.

"i always knew you'd look stunning in bridgerton blue but....it seems as though the bridgerton blue was crafted for you" he murmured, tightening his grip on your waist, "so stunning that infact, i do not feel the need to leave for lady danbury's ball, for I'd much rather stay here with my breathtakingly beautiful wife" he murmured again, lips ghosting over your own as his hands squeezed your waist, drawing you flush against his body.

"my lord, we cannot... we must be present at the first ball of the season" you lamely protested, heart hammering against your chest as the intoxicating scent of his musky, woodsy cologne filled your nostrils.

anthony dropped his lips to your neck, lips brushing a feather soft kiss to the sensitive skin, drawing a gasp from you.

"what if we do not go? what if we just stay here and...i worship my wife in the way she deserves? like the goddess she is?" he asked, like gently pressing kisses down to your collarbone, still as light as a feather, just enough to ignite something feral in you, but also enough to keep you wanting more.

"my lord it's the first ball of the season, and we have to-"

you were cut off by anthony's lips pressing against yours.

they were soft and plush against yours, pressing perfectly like a jigsaw puzzle, initiating a warm glow in the pit of your tummy.

as your lips met, the sensation was like a feather's gentle caress — soft, fleeting, and subtly warm. it feels like a delicate dance, a tender exploration that sparked a gentle flutter within you. the touch was akin to the brush of downy feathers, teasing and inviting, as if he was testing the waters of intimacy.

yet, as the moment unfolded, a magnetic pull takes hold, drawing you deeper into the realm of passion. the softness transforms, gradually intensifying into a fiery connection. the initial delicacy gave way to a fervent exchange, each kiss building upon the other with a growing hunger.

your lips, once feather-light, were now engaged in a rhythmic and passionate dance. the subtle warmth amplified into a blazing fire, and what began as a gentle exploration evolved into a fervent expression of desire.

the world around you faded and in that heightened connection, every kiss becomes an electric charge, a testament to the undeniable chemistry between your two souls entwined in the artistry of passion.

anthony's hands ran rampant on your body, clutching every part of your body through the silk dress, yet taking care to not scrunch the silk in anyway.

"you have no idea what you do me darling" he growled against your lips, drawing back for just a moment to watch your chest heave and eyes glaze over, hands clutching his coat and cravat so tight he feared you would rip it off.

"every breath you take, every word you speak, the very sound of your melodious voice and the very beat of your heart, all allure me to you, draw me to you like a moth to a flame" he continued, his own heart hammering against his chest.

his chest rose and fell with every word, eyes ablaze with burning passion. "every second of every day, i crave you, i long for you, i need you, and it drives me feral. but the sight of you in my colour makes me want to rip off that very dress off your body, claiming you as mine in more ways than one" he growled, hands scrunching the material on your behind.

"anthony..i crave you every second of the day as well. i need you" you whispered, a soft whimper slipping past your lips.

"hush my sweet darling" he said, sending you a saccharine sweet smile.

then, much to your chagrin, he took his hands off your waist, fixing the material and fixing his own coat.

"now, we must hasten to lady danbury's" he smirked" and you groaned, a painful throbbing between your legs becoming more prominent.

"but my lord-" you protested, only to be cut off by another searing kiss. he kissed you deep and long, and then drew back, pushing a stray curl on your forehead back behind your ear.

"our family awaits dearest" he smiled, and gently led you out to the hall.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

the grand ballroom at lady danbury's unfolded into a dazzling spectacle as it embraced the opulence of a gold and maroon theme. golden hues enveloped the space, casting a warm, regal glow. glittering chandeliers, adorned with intricate gold details, hung from the ceiling, their crystals refracting light in a dance of elegance.

luxurious maroon fabrics draped the walls, creating a sumptuous backdrop that added depth to the golden ambiance. tables adorned with golden tablecloths and maroon accents contributed to the harmonious blend of colors. golden candle holders flickered with the soft glow of candles, casting a gentle radiance on the rich maroon floral centerpieces.

the women's dresses shimmered with embellishments, and the men's attire featured accents, creating a visual symphony of sophistication, into which you walked with anthony, arms interlaced, as you bowed before queen charlotte, who had taken quite a liking to you.

"it's lovely to see the bridgertons led by a couple as magnanimous as you" she bestowed a rare compliment, bringing a hot flush to your cheeks and even to anthony's pale visage. "but now we anxiously await the news of a young bridgerton" she said pointedly, and you kept your eyes low, trying to ignore the heat blooming in your cheek.

around you, guests were engaged in a dance, the dance floor became a stage for a waltz of colors, with the many colours and tones reflecting in the mirrored walls. the orchestra, bathed in the warm ambiance, played melodies that echoed the richness of the color palette.

you noticed simon and daphne dancing, looking fondly at each other, and saw colin sharing a dance with young penelope featherington, which made you smile, always having harbored a soft spot for the girl.

you spotted eloise by the food table, with francesca, both enjoying the strawberries that were being served. benedict seemed engrossed in exploring the rich collection of paintings in the hall, and was surrounded by a group of friends.

anthony led you over to his sisters, a soft kiss to your wrist a promise to be back in a moment lingering on his lips, as he was dragged off by countless lords for a drink and a conversation about the next round of a hunt they were engaging in.

as eloise began to speak about the many cruelties of lady featherington, you spotted cressida cowper scowling over at the two of you, dressed in a pink so bright you felt momentarily blinded. she shot a contemptuous look at you, scoffing at your gown and sharing a laugh with lady cowper, that had your eyebrow creasing with insecurity.

much to your horror, she began to march over to you, along with her mother and lady featherington, much to your dismay. you searched desperately for your mother-in-law, but found her engrossed in conversation with the queen.

"my my, if it isn't the happy bridgertons" cressida sniped, flashing you a tight lipped smile. "hello miss cowper" you smiled, ignoring the anxiety bubbling in your tummy.

"cressida" eloise said coldly, linking her arm with yours. she was well aware of the contemptuous rumours she had spread about you when you had begun courting anthony and had made it her mission to protect you from her.

"what a rather unusual colour for you dear" lady cowper commented, eyes trailing down your body in disdain.

"it gives you the impression of being a little washed out" she stated, opening her fan to hide her smirk.

you ignored the tear that sprang to your eyes as she continued to comment, on the fall of the dress, the shape of the silhouette and the way your jewellery was far too showy.

you could feel eloise glowering beside you but silently begged her to keep calm, not wanting to lose her calm in front of everyone.

to your surprise, a familiar baritone cut in, a nd a strong arm wrapped around your midriff and waist.

your husband appeared beside you, a smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"i see why you might think that, lady cowper, for all you can pull off is that rather obnoxious shade of viscous pink, and while i understand your envy at my wife's ability to outshine everyone else here in any colour she chooses, i must remind you are speaking to the viscountess bridgerton, and hence must adhere to the degree respect she commands" he stated coolly, hand gripping your waist so tight you were sure it would leave marks.

stunned speechless, the cowper's backed away, egos more than bruised and enraged , subject to sniggers and chuckles from the other lords and ladies in the room. your brother walked to anthony from across the hall, patting him on the back and whispering a "good man" to him as he hugged you, and eloise drew anthony into a hug as well.

anthony led the two of you over to his mama, who couldn't hide a smile herself at the love her son had for his wife, so reminiscent of the way their father had loved her.

"I am sorry if I caused humiliation to your name mama, but I cannot and will not let anyone talk to my wife that way" he said firmly, only to be cut off by his mother.

"I believe everyone here has been waiting to say that to miss cowper since the beginning of time, my darling, so take your wife and go home. you have done your job and proved your love and passion and told everyone that your relationship rhymes true" she said, drawing you into a warm hug and bidding you goodbye.

the carriage ride home was silent as your held anthony's hand tight, his thumb tracing patterns over the gloves you were donning, a pearly white to match your jewels.

"thank you my love" you whispered to him, eyes glimmering with unshed tears.

"my darling, i love you, all of you. please do not ever belittle yourself, because your beauty is awe worthy" he said, eyes contorted as if he was in pain at the thought of you being in pain.

"I'll try my best not to" you whispered against, leaning forward to press your foreheads together. and you stayed like that till bridgerton manor came into view.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

frenzied kisses were pressed against your lips as anthony lifted you into his arms, earning a singular gasp from your lips. his hands, one wrapped tightly under your bottom and the other around your back was strong, as you wrapped your legs around his waist and he led you upstairs, ignoring the scurrying valet and maids and your ladies in waiting as he made it to your shared bedroom.

he dropped you gently on the bed, towering above you, hands shoving the material of your dress up. his hands crept along your thighs stealthily, finding the hooks of your stockings to your thigh garter, slowly dragging it down, exposing your bare skin to him, suppressing a groan at the soft skin.

to his surprise you reached up and grabbed him by the cravat, untying it and pulling him down to meet your lips. you kissed him roughly, a frenzied battle, with teeth and tongue clashing as he shrugged off his waist coat and began to unbutton his shirt, watching as you removed your jewellery and kept in on the table beside his bed.

his hands reached for your dress, carefully untying the many laces and unbuttoning the many buttons on your dress, watching as your bosom heaved in the corset wore.

deft fingers unhooked the corset without a struggle, and you moaned when the cold air hit your nipples, making them harden, as you pushed your chest out towards him.

anthony growled, the sound reverberating in his throat as he reached down to unbutton his tan pants, leaving him in just his underwear. his lips attacked your neck, biting into the delicate flesh and pressing kiss after kiss, sucking deep marks and hickies that were sure to stay for days after.

you raked your nails up and down his neck, stroking the skin there and raking your hands upto his hair, gently scratching his scalp as he trailed kisses down to your breasts.

his mouth enveloped your nipple in his mouth, tongue flicking and swirling around the sensitive nub.

he continued his ministrations, taking only a moment to move his mouth to your other breast and leaving lovebites on the skin.

he settled in between your thoughts, hips gently grinding into yours, as he licked and sucked to his heart’s desire, attempting to alleviate the growing tent in his pants.

you were beginning to pant, and he continued to pinch and stroke your nipple. his tongue wreaked havoc on one while his fingers gently tugged on the other. anthony could not wait any longer, the pain of the straining in his pants making him more loopy than he would admit, and he pulled away from your breast, a string of saliva from his lips to your breast.

he came back up to your mouth, kissing you with desperation. "i adore you" he painted above you, before kissing down your tummy to your thighs.

he stopped at the junction between your thighs, inhaling the musk of your scent.  

he reached for the cotton underwear you had on, gently pulling it down, and pushing your thighs apart, and a wave of cold air floated across your inner thighs, so open and exposed now.

anthony began to press hot, open mouthed kisses to the bare expanse of your thighs, stopping just below your pussy lips each time.

mere moments later, you felt an entirely new sensation— anthony's wet, warm tongue sliding through your folds. a cry of pleasure ripped from your throat, as you looked down at anthony, who had crawled between your legs with his tongue buried at the apex of your thighs.

your slick dripped down your pussy lips, costing them in your honey, and anthony licked it all up as if it was nectar and ambrosia, lowering his face to lick a long strip through your entire slit, before tilting his face even deeper into your pussy, swirling around up to your engorged clit and licking all around it and on the top of it.

the action had your hips jolting as he sucked on the nub, causing flashes of white to flash before your eyes.

"you taste more delightful than i could ever have imagined" he breathed licking the sour-sweet liquid off his lips. "my own precious honey pot" he cooed, making you flush again and your body heated up.

he sucked harder on your clit, fingers slipping into your slit to slide up and down, each stroking made your hips flail wildly.

“you taste so sweet” he murmurs, and the brush of his breath sears against your skin. the low rumbling of his voice, so characteristic of him, are dripped in hunger and arousal, the heat spreading under your skin and threatening to explode like a supernova.

"i have longed to have you squirming on my tongue my love. i will have you screaming my name until your lips know no other" he promised.

with a ravenous look at your heaving form, anthony lowered his mouth to your throbbing center again and licked a bold stripe up your clit, the sensitive bud jolting in shock and you scream in pleasure,

the ever composed lord bridgerton moans against your cunt when you tug his hair, hands holding down your hips as he watches you squirm. then anthony rolls your clit with his teeth and you come apart with a scream, hands gripping onto his hair for dear life.

you come, cunt clenching down, spasming around his tongue where he has you stretched open. everything else disappears for a moment, your body weightless with pure unadulterated bliss.

anthony shifts so he is in between your legs again, watching the fluttering of your pussy as you clench around nothing. your eyes are trained on his hips and he feels a surge of pride.

his cock was one not only of great size but of greater girth and greater skill, and he adored nothing more than watching your eyes become as large as saucers as you looked at his poor cock straining again as it had been ever since he saw you in his signature colour.

trained hands guided his cock to your entrance, tapping against it for a few seconds before he dragged the tip through your slick, making your body shudder at the stimulation. and then, he pressed a kiss to your neck, hips slamming against yours.

the first thrust was deep and claiming,and you cried out at the perfect stretch of him in your pussy.

you could barely think straight, hands digging into his back and nails sinking into his skin.

"so fucking perfect,” he murmured into your ear, rasped and breathless as he nipped on your ear. "'feel so good wrapped around my cock. so wet and warm for me my sweet sweet beloved. fuck, you're so tight right now. squeezing me so well, you love my cock, do you not my angel?"

"yes yes i love you and your cock" you changed as a prayer, eyes bashful at the use of the dirty word. "look at how your cunt clenches around me" he groaned, head dipping into the crook of your neck as his hips slammed into yours repeatedly.

you could hear the headboard banging against the wall as the pace of anthony's thrusts had your body sliding against the silken sheets.

and then he stopped

he stayed there, buried inside you to the hilt, and his cock twitched excitedly inside you. you watched the way he gripped the bedsheets tightly with his fingers until they went hite. it sent heat and pleasure into the pit of your stomach and you were sure you are going to burn. it was far too good, far too much, brimming on the edge of being overwhelming. 

there’s no warning as he pulled out, leaving his pulsing tip in, and then he thrusted all the way back inside, in one long and slick stroke back inside you, deep and rough. his cock slammed into a spot in you that has you screaming, something absolutely fucking delicious and it steals away your breath and makes you cry out. 

and then he grabs your legs, pushing them up towards your legs as he almost folded you in half, pushing your legs so far apart they almost touched your head, as he moved to his knees for a better angle.

his hips thrusted wildly as he kept fucking you, hand rubbing furiously at your sensitive clit, as you whined and moaned and screamed. he watched as your cunt, pink and perfect fluttered and twitched, and his ears revelled at the sound of the filthy, wet squelching that echoed in the room from your dripping cunt.

he landed a harsh smack to the back of your thigh that had you screaming as he then pressed his tongue to it, sucking a hickey on the spot.

sweat dripped down his forehead and yours, as you began to thrust your hips up to meet his perfect strokes, while feeling like his cock was going to split you apart.

"i want nothing more than to fill you with my seed" he growled, over the sound of your skin slapping together over and over again.

"fill me with your seed my lord. let me have carry your kin" you murmured, and you watched as anthony groaned, hand wrapping around your throat.

"such a minx" he grinned, squeezing and watching your eyes roll back.

without a warning, he flipped you over so you were on top, and his deft hands steadied you at the waist.

then he began to slowly pick your hips up, working you up and down on his cock, slamming you up and down on his cock, until you got the hang of it.

anthony felt himself drooling as he took in the way your tits bounced and you bounced on his cock as you ride him, nails now scratching down his chest as he laid a harsh spank to your ass that had you clenching on his cock harder.

he watched your body desperately ride him for all he was worth, thighs jiggling as they clapped against his own, and he pinched the fat around your waist and belly, teeth nipping at your nipple to increase the stimulation.

"m-my lord! I am going to cum!" you moaned loudly, only to turn to a wail as anthony's fingers unleashed a furious assault on your clit, as he rubbed it up and down and side to side and everywhere, covering his fingers in your slick.

with a scream of his name, you came all over his dick and his tummy, your juices spilling out of you like a fountain, watching as he scooped it up with his fingers to lick it clean.

he slammed your hips down on his even harder as you whined, and you felt his stomach tense and breathing stutter as he came, shooting his load inside you, and finally sinking into the pillow, limp.

panting, you rolled off of him, mind cockdrunk and unable to move. anthony peppered kisses to your skin and kissed the spots where he'd been rough.

"you were phenomenal, my love" he whispered, and to your intrigue, his fingers trialed down to your cunt.

you watched as he gently slid a finger in to your hole, shushing and kissing you as he blocked it with his fingers.

"i cannot have a single drop of me spilling out of you" he murmured and you moaned.

"i adore you", he mumbled, "my dear wife" he concluded.

"and i adore you, my dear husband" you smiled, meeting his lips in a sugar sweet kiss.

who would've known that wearing the bridgerton blue was all it would take for you and anthony to announce to the ton in the next three months that you were expecting the first bridgerton heir?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : I've missed writing for bridgerton so much!! i really hope you enjoy this, and as always likes reblogs comments opinions etc are appreciated!! sending u all love and happiness and remember, my inbox is always open and i love making new friends!! happy reading ☺️♥️

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[woso-dreamzzz]

Reina

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You meet Natalia's cat

If you were to describe yourself, you would say you were an animal person. You didn't really make distinctions between whether you were a dog or cat person. You like all animals equally.

Prins was an absolute darling and stuck firmly to your side like he was made for it. He was soft and excitable and was more than able to keep up on your daily runs.

But, it had to be said, there was something about soft, cuddly cats that really got you.

Exactly like the one that was currently rubbing herself all over you.

"She likes you!" Natalia looks delighted, face split wide open in a big smile.

"I like her!"

Reina purrs as you scratch behind her ears, bumping her head more firmly into your hand. Her calico ears twitch slightly when you stop stroking so you redouble your efforts.

Meeting Reina was something that Natalia had been trying to get you to do for weeks now. You'd fully settled in at Barcelona now, even gaining the confidence to stray from her side every now and then and get to know your new teammates privately.

Natalia had been begging you to come over for dinner and meet Reina since the very first week.

You'd put it off for a while with the excuse of getting settled in and then the day you had planned to do it had been taken over by Tia Tana dropping in with strict instructions from your mothers to check you were taking care of yourself.

So, that was why now, you were soaking up all the cat cuddles you could get.

Reina certainly lived up to her name. Elegance seemed to be her main character trait. She was practically show perfect with her long fur and large body.

"Did you just take a picture of me?" You ask when you hear the sound of a phone shutter.

Natalia grins at you. "I have to document this. My two girls, finally meeting." Her tone was wistful and your face burnt red.

You think you kind of like that, being one of Natalia's girls.

"You're lucky she's cute," You reply before smiling down at Reina again," Yes, you are. So cute."

Reina lets out a little chirp before leaning into your space to sniff at your neck. You let her, looking down at the ground to where Prins was whining.

He was doing a good job behaving himself for a puppy so little and Natalia had practically insisted that you bring him along for this occasion.

"Are they ignoring you, little man?" Natalia coos," I'm sorry." She kneels down on the floor to pet him as Reina finally stops sniffing at you.

She brushes her cheek against your shoulder before turning around to peer down at Prins.

Happy with all of this new attention, he jumps up to rest against your legs, stretching as far as he could to greet Reina.

She looks a little insulted by him but leans down to properly make her decision. She stares, unblinking for several seconds before leaping down from your lap.

She inspects Prins at his level which is kind of funny because she towers over him.

She baps him over the head a few times before clearly deciding that he's hers because she tries to pick him up by the scuff of his neck.

It doesn't quite work because he's a bit too big for that so she just kind of ends up herding him where she wants him to go before settling down and grooming him.

Natalia joins you on the sofa, an arm automatically thrown over your shoulders as she settles by your side.

"She likes him."

"I think she thinks that he's her kitten."

"That's sweet. I'm glad they're getting along." She smirks at you, her arm tightening around you. "That means I never have to let you leave."

You roll your eyes. "Except for training."

"Except for training," Natalia agrees," But you agree then? That I should keep you and Prins here?"

"I don't think Reina will let him leave."

You both look over to watch Reina firmly drag Prins back into the cat bed when he tries to leave. He sends you a wounded look as you laugh when Reina practically sits on him and focusses her attention on grooming his back.

"It's the Scandinavian in her," You reply.

Natalia groans good-naturedly. "I take it back. You and Prins can leave. I don't want to be outnumbered by three Scandinavians."

"I mean," You shrug," Technically only Reina and I are Scandinavians. Finland doesn't count."

"But Norway does?! How's that fair?"

You laugh. "Have you ever looked at a map? Finland doesn't count as Scandinavia."

"Your countries confuse me," Natalia laughs too.

"I can leave now, if you really want." You jokingly move to get up but Natalia keeps a firm grip on you. It feels nice, like being wrapped up safely in your baby blanket again and you sag into Natalia's body against yours.

Her arms move from your shoulders because of the change of position. You're sitting between her legs now, splayed out on the sofa and she wraps her arms gently around your waist.

Her grip is firm though and two fingers draw soft patterns on your hip, occasionally going up and under your shirt to draw circles on your side.

The pressure of her hands on you makes your head go a little floaty. You've never seen Natalia do this with any of your teammates at training but it's private here, in her home, so you suppose that she feels like she can be a bit more touchy.

Friendships back home weren't like this. You'd be hard pressed to find any of your friends willing to even hold your hand let alone your waist so this is dangerously new territory.

Selfishly, you wish that her hand would go a bit lower. It makes you feel guilty even entertaining the thought because Natalia's your friend and it isn't right to take advantage of her touchiness.

You can feel her breath on the back of your neck though and it makes your blush spread all through your body.

"So," You manage to get out, desperately trying to not get lost in the feeling of Natalia against you," Are we having dinner or what?"

"My company isn't enough?"

"Your company is perfect," You assure her, desperately wishing she knew just how perfect she really was," But, seriously, I was promised cat cuddles and food. I've had the cuddles. I need the food."

"Maybe we'll hold off on dinner for a bit longer," Natalia says," I like this position too much to move. Is that good with you?"

"That's perfectly fine with me."

[blooming-violets]

Hear me out :

Peter is jaded after Gwen, it’s before the events of NWH, and he’s slowly starting to fall in love with a woman he’s (literally) ran into at the library. She’s intellectual, kind, but is also a little jaded like Peter. Slowly, he has seen hope in her chestnut eyes. He is starting to see a future.

One night, Peter is listening to the police scanners and hears the code for an armed break-in, and it’s library girl’s apartment complex’s address.

He swallows, angry chills run up his spine as he hears her apartment number called out.

What does he do, Katie? How would he react?

I'm With You || TASM Peter Parker x fem!Reader

Trigger Warnings: stalking, sexual assault of a woman (being masturbated over by a man and touched w/o consent), nudity, crass language, gun usage, armed break-ins with the intent to harm a woman living alone, being tied and gagged against her will, violence from Peter/Spider-Man with a tiny bit of gore

It’s a damn cold night. 

Peter tugged his jacket close around his body as he jogged the last few remaining steps into the public library. His overdue books were hidden inside the satchel at his side. He was about a month late in returning them and the library was almost closed. He wanted to get them in before he forgot. If he waited another day, he would never remember to bring them back. 

As he rounded the corner, he tripped over someone’s outstretched legs. Being a man of his talents, he quickly corrected his fall to land effortlessly back on his feet with the elegance of a ballerina making a graceful leap. 

Quizzical eyes stared up at him. 

The woman on the floor was leaning with her back against the bookcase with an open book in her lap. She looked more annoyed at him for tripping over her instead of apologetic for having her legs across the aisle. 

“Watch where you’re going,” she grumbled. 

She lifted the book up to her face, blocking him back out. 

Peter let out a breathy laugh of disbelief at the audacity of this bitch. 

“Excuse me?” He said, agast. 

She peeked her eyes over the top of the book to stare him down, “Dude, get lost. I’m busy. Not my fault you’re clumsy.”

“You tripped me!” He read the cover of the book she was reading. The Making of the Atomic Bomb by Richard Rhodes. “Doing a bit of light reading, I see. First it’s tripping innocent strangers and next it’s world domination? Is that it?”

He caught the smallest of smiles tug at her lips hidden behind the book.  

A singular butterfly fluttered around inside his stomach at the sight. The feeling was enough to grab his attention. He quietly admired her. Legs still stretched out in front of her. Zero regard for the space she was taking up. He kind of liked it. She didn’t give a shit. 

Peter turned and left her to her book, not wanting to bother her further, and headed to the front desk to deal with his late fees.

A week had passed and he was back in the library. He had no real purpose for being there today other than he liked the smell of the books. They made him feel relaxed. He liked to walk down the aisles and let his fingers graze across each bump of their spines. Every book he touched, filled with another story, another world, hundreds of lives under the tips of his fingers. 

“Hey,” a feminine voice hissed from between a gap of books on the other side of the shelf. 

Those eyes. He blinked back at them, peering between the shelves, trying to place where he remembered them from. 

Then it hit him. 

Atomic bomb girl. 

“Can I borrow your height?” She whispered, keeping her voice low to be respectful to the people studying on the other side of the room. Unlike the last time he saw her, it was a Thursday afternoon and the library was full with students. 

Peter slipped into the next aisle. She pointed to the book she wanted on the top shelf, just out of her reach. He plucked it down for her and turned it over in his hands. Relativity: The Special and the General Theory by Albert Einstein.

She eyed him with an intensity he wasn’t used to, like she was seeing straight through his skin and into his soul. Her eyes were captivating. He wanted to get lost in them. 

“You’re the unbalanced, trippy guy, right?” She asked. 

Peter smiled. Last night he stood on one foot on top of the Empire State Building spire just to admire the view. He was more balanced than she would ever know. 

“You mean, am I the one you tripped? Yes.” He handed her over the book. “You’re into science, I see, atomic bomb girl?” 

“I’m into learning. Whatever form that may come in.” She took the book and tucked it under her arm. “Thanks, trippy.” 

“Peter,” he called after her as she spun around to walk away. “You can call me Peter!”

The library became his new home. He took every opportunity to attend in the hopes of bumping into her again. Some days were a success, other’s a failure, but he found himself wanting more. Every time she had a new book and every time he would find the same one to read after her. It wasn’t weird. He was just…trying to find quiet ways to relate to someone new.

So he told himself. 

Peter had forgotten how to talk to women after Gwen. It had been so long since he even attempted to date anyone.

“Are you stalking me?” She asked one evening when she walked into the room to find him sitting on his laptop at one of the tables. 

He glanced up and shrugged, “I was here first this time. Maybe you’re stalking me?”

She smiled and slid into the seat across from him, “I already have one stalker. I don’t need another. If you’re into me, you better just grow a pair, and ask me out now.” 

Peter grinned, “I’m…wait…okay.” He ran a hand through his hair, sitting up straighter, completely letting the stalker comments fly over his head as he got flustered. “Would you like to go on a date with me? Right here. Right now. If you say ‘yes’ then it’s already starting.” He closed his laptop to give her his full attention. 

Her eyes widened and she settled happily back into her chair, “Alright, Peter, was it? Nice to meet you. This is an interesting choice of restaurant for a first date. Not what I would have chosen for our dinner and a movie night. I didn’t see a kitchen when I walked in but I chose to trust you.” 

“This is the finest establishment the borough has to offer,” he feigned a gasp. “Don’t you insult my choice of restaurant.” 

He raised a finger in the air, pretending to call over an imaginary waiter, “Hello, yes, I will take your finest bottle of wine for the table to start. The more expensive, the better. And I will take a big, giant steak for myself and, perhaps, a nice, small salad for the lovely lady?” He shot her a cheeky wink as she let out a laugh. 

“Fuck you,” she giggled.

Fucking him was exactly what she did. 

They continued their imaginary dinner date in the library until it closed, the librarian kicking them out and shooing them out the front door. They walked into the chilly night air, stopping at a bodega at the street corner to grab a few snacks, as they made their way to her place. 

He had slept with other women since Gwen passed but this time was different. There were feelings involved. Feelings that were still in their infancy. Ones that were just sparking to life. But they were there. He didn’t just want to fuck her and run. He wanted more than that. He wanted to stay. He wanted to grow and cultivate whatever path they were headed down. He wanted this to be something. 

He was ready to try dating again. 

She rolled over in the bed, naked and relaxed, staring up at the ceiling, “That was amazing. You really know how to use that tongue of yours for more than just being a dick. I’m impressed.”

Peter chuckled, “Oh, please, your tongue was nothing to scoff at either.”

It really had been one of the best blow jobs of his life. 

He leaned on his side, propping his head up with his hand, and gazed happily down at her, “I want to take you on a real date. Saturday night. To an actual restaurant.”

She hesitated. A shadowed sadness darkened her eyes which she quickly pushed away, “Okay. I think I can do that.”

Peter frowned, “Something wrong?”

She shook her head, leaning over to kiss him as a distraction, “Nope. When you leave, can you leave through one of the side doors? Don’t walk out the front of the apartment.” 

That was his cue to leave, apparently. He chewed anxiously against his bottom lip. Maybe he was misreading whatever he thought was going on between them. Maybe she wanted a quick fuck and nothing more. Come to think of it, when they entered here, she had snuck them in the back door, too, making him walk a few feet behind her like they weren’t together.

Maybe she was in a relationship and cheating on her partner with him?

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” She offered, casually urging him to get out of the bed. “Text me. I stuck my contact in your phone earlier.”

Peter left feeling more confused and unsure than when he entered her place. 

He lifted his phone as he walked through the streets, searching the contracts until he found her under ❤️Atomic Bomb Girl❤️, and he smiled down at it. A heart. Maybe he was overthinking things. Maybe her front door was just broken. He always went straight to assuming the worst. 

Someone slammed into his shoulder, jostling him out of his thoughts, and he glanced behind him. A large, buff man glared back at him. He looked to be in his late fifties and was balding. His massive arms bulged under his tight fitting, worn down leather jacket. He reached out to clamp a hand down around Peter’s upper arm.

Peter frowned and tried to jerk away, “Dude, it was an accident, chill.” 

“Did you fuck that girl up there?” That man asked, nodding his head back to her apartment building. There was a crazed desperation in his voice. “I saw you following her home. Did she spread her legs for you and whore herself out? Did you get a good look at that tight, little pussy? Tell me, what did it look like? You take any pictures? I’ll pay you for them.”

Peter jerked his arm out of the man’s grasp, scowling in disgust, “What the fuck? I have no idea what you’re talking about. I wasn’t following anyone. I was meeting a friend who lives there. Fuck off.” 

The man leaned forward and inhaled his scent causing Peter to jump back. 

“I can smell her on you,” he growled as his eyes rolled back into his head. “That’s her perfume. I know because I bought it for her. You were fucking her.” 

That was enough. 

Peter shoved the older man off of him and jogged around the corner, waiting until he was out of sight before throwing himself up onto her building roof, peering over the edge to keep an eye on him. 

He was just pacing back and forth outside the apartment door, mumbling to himself and fidgeting with something in his pocket. 

“Freak,” Peter muttered under his breath. 

He pulled up her contact and sent her a text: Some crazy old dude just ambushed me outside your place. Asked about you. Maybe don’t go outside tonight. I think he’s not right in the head.

He saw three bubbles appear as she started to text back but then they disappeared again, leaving him hanging. 

Peter shrugged it off. He stayed and kept watch until the man finally wandered off down the street.

The night before he was supposed to take her out on a date, Peter was laid over his bed in his Spider suit sans mask. His police scanner let out more static of nothing as he waited for something, anything, to happen. He was bored but it was too cold to hang around on a rooftop somewhere. He would stay in the warmth of his bedroom unless something exciting came his way. They had been texting back and forth nonstop for the last few days and calling each other every night to talk for hours. He liked it when she sent him pictures of things she was doing around her house during the day. She was adorable and he looked forward to whenever his phone would buzz. 

As if on cue, it vibrated across the mattress next to him. 

He lifted it up in a gloved hand to read the text. A frown settled over his face as he read it. 

Atomic Bomb Girl: ha ha ha i win u lose dontever touch wat is mine again 

Right as he was attempting to decipher what she was talking about, taking note of how drastic of a change of text from her usual ones it was, the police scanner lit to life.

“All available units to Linden Boulevard, Oak Ridge Apartments, floor three. Multiple calls of gunshots heard and one reported casualty of a security guard. Suspect is wearing dark clothes, caucasian older male, considered armed and dangerous. Approach with caution.”

His senses exploded in a panicked wave of tingles. That was her place. Her floor. The image of that strange man assaulting him on the street after he left came back to hit him like a ton of bricks. Peter looked back at his phone as the pieces fell into place. 

Oh, fuck. 

Quiet, controlled anger replaced the panic. His heart rate steadied as a calm chill fell over him. His jaw locked in determination. He reached for his mask, tugging it over his stone cold, deadly expression, and he leaped out of his open window. 

Peter Parker no longer fucked around when it came to protecting the one’s he cared about. This was personal. 

He arrived at the scene in record speed, landing directly on top of a black S.W.A.T truck as it pulled up. He rapped a fist down on the hood to get their attention.

“Feel free to sit this one out, boys!” He called down to them. “Spidey’s got you covered! I’ll be in and out in minutes. No need to worry. Focus on crowd control. I’ve got a date with a balding fucker. If all goes well, it’ll end up with a quickie in the back of a cop car, as I ride his ass straight to prison.” 

Peter threw himself up onto her building, scaling to the third floor and around to find her window. He knew exactly where he would find his perp. His masked face popped up in her bedroom window. It was empty and quiet. He slammed his fist through the glass, slipping his hand inside to find the lock, and shoved it open wide enough for him to shimmy through. 

From inside, he could hear muffled cries. Whimpers. They were different from the whimpers he had been able to elicit out of her the other night but he knew them all the same. 

Silent as a shadow, Peter crept around the corner. With her hands tied behind her back, her shirt ripped open so her bare chest was on display, and thrown against the couch was his girl. The gun man stood above her. A pistol was aimed directly at her forehead. From this angle, he couldn’t quite make out what was going on, but it looked as if the man was masturbating over her. Trails of mascara ran down her cheeks and she let out muffled cries against the heavy amounts of duct tape blocking her mouth as she struggled to break free. 

His anger flared but he tried to push it down to manable levels. He had learned over the years that getting too angry made him sloppy. He needed to control it. Work with it. Tame it into something he could use as a weapon instead of making it a weakness. 

Peter crawled up her wall and onto her ceiling, prowling towards the man. Up here, he had a clear view. His dick was out and he was frantically jerking it as fast as he could at her breasts. Her eyes widened in fear but then flashed with hope when caught sight of Spider-Man crawling across her ceiling. 

He hadn’t even done anything yet and he already felt pride. She felt a sense of safety around him…even if she didn’t know it was him behind the mask. It made him cocky. Made him want to show off. 

When he was directly behind him, he silently lowered himself upside on a web until his face was hung directly behind the assailant. 

“I’m actually surprised you can even get it up,” he quipped, keeping his voice light, despite the rage eating at his stomach. “I didn’t know something that small could get hard.”  

The man whipped around, his dick flopping against his leg, as he sputtered in shock. His pistol went off, firing aimless at the wall behind Peter’s head. 

Peter held up his hands in mock surrender as he jumped to his feet, “Whoa, there, tinycock! Don’t go blowing your load so soon! You’ll miss out on all the fun.”

There was no doubt this was the same man he had met outside the other day. His eyes were crazed with an unhinged, desperation that reeked of a man off his meds. Peter made sure to keep the man’s eyes on himself, holding his attention, instead of on her. 

“What’s a sad sap like you doing out of the psych ward? Were you a good boy and managed to snag yourself a day pass?” Peter clasped his hands together like he was excited for him, voice dripping with sarcasm. “And you used it to visit your daughter? Aww, that’s so sweet. Wait a minute.” He pretended to just now notice the man’s cock hanging out of his pants. It had gone soft and shrunken up like a scared little mouse. “Is she…not your daughter? But you’re so old. And she’s so young. I guess I don’t see any resemblance. She’s really pretty and you’ve got-” He motioned a hand around the man’s face. “-all that. Something tells me that there’s more going on here. Wanna tell your pal Spidey all about it?” 

The man was silent, blinking in a shocked awe at the masked hero, before finally snapping out of it. Spider-Man always excelled at talking his bad guys into circles with his stream of conscious babbling. The gun raised towards his head but, quicker than the man could even process, Peter had latched his hand around the barrel and crushed it in his grasp with the same ease as one might squish a can of soda after they finished drinking.

“Whoopies,” he joked. “Looks like your gun broke! I wouldn’t pull that trigger if I were you. It’ll explode right back into your face there. On second thought, maybe give it a go! It might improve what you’re working with!” 

The man faltered, looking confused and baffled down at his crushed gun. He clearly wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box. That was okay. Peter didn’t need him to be intelligent. He just needed him to be unarmed. 

Which he now was. 

Peter grabbed him by the scruff of the collar and turned him around to face her, “Do you see that girl there?” The man’s eyes glazed over as he stared down at her exposed breasts. Peter quickly threw a hand over the man’s eyes to block them, manhandling him around like he wasn’t twice his size. “I take that back. Don’t see that girl there. Use your imagination. Remember her face. You know that girl? Yeah, that girl. The one you tied up and assaulted? The one sitting in front of us, scared out of her mind and traumatized. I want you to remember her. Because if you ever, and I mean ever, even think about her again, if she ever crosses your pathetically shriveled up mind, if you ever say her fucking name, speak about her, think about, look in her direction, or ever come near her again…” 

Peter dragged him over to the living room window where the slew of police were barricaded outside. He could hear the S.W.A.T crew moving up the stairwell now towards them and knew they only had a few more precious minutes of alone time. He shoved the man up to the window, raising his arm to force him to wave limply at all the cops down below. 

His voice lowered to a dangerous growl. Any playful, sarcastic essence it once held in the presence of his girl disappeared so only the man could hear him. 

“If you ever fucking touch her again,” he breathed. “I will toss you off of the Empire State Building and laugh through your entire fall down to your grizzly end.” 

With his hand still clutching the man’s collar, he jerked him back and smashed his face directly through the glass window. He heard her muffled scream of shock behind him but he knew she would be alright. 

A shard of glass stuck out of the man’s forehead, blood dripping down over his half closed eye, and Peter flicked it off down onto the street below. 

“That was for trying to taunt me over text,” he whispered in the dazed man’s ear. “I don’t play nice with men like you. Want to see what it would feel like falling to your death? Here’s a little preview so you’ll be sure to know exactly what you’ll be in for if you ever even think about my woman again.” 

Peter reeled back and tossed the man straight out of her window, head first, sending him down to the cops below. If he let his anger win, he would have never set a web straight after him, but she was watching and he didn’t want to be that person. She had gone through enough without having to see her Saturday night date murder a man in front of her.

The web latched onto his back at the final moments to break his fall. His legs may have crumpled against the ground…just a little bit…but he was alive. It was more than he deserved but the cops could deal with him now. 

Peter spun around to look back at her. She was quietly sobbing, muffled by her gag, but held a look of relief on her face. She brought her teary eyes up to meet his, or where she thought they would under the mask, and gave him a short nod of thanks. 

The S.W.A.T team was nearing her door. He could jump out the window and allow them to help her get free or…

She clung onto him, her head buried in his shoulder, as he soared them down the street and away from the commotion below. She cried softly. He wasn’t sure if it was from fear or the trauma or that fact that New York’s very own Spider-Man had just stolen her from her home but he kept a firm hold on her and kept whispering reassuring words in her ear. 

Eventually, he landed them on top of his own apartment building, setting her down gently onto her bottom. 

She gasped for breath, reaching up a hand to wipe the tears from her eyes, “I always…wondered…what it would be like…to fly…” Her chest was heaving between each gasping word. “Turns out, it’s terrifying. Still, thank you, Peter. For saving me.” 

He shrugged, “It’s no problem. I was just doing my- hey, wait!”

She gave him a sneaky smile, still shivering and teary, but proud of herself for figuring it out.

“What?” She asked, innocently. “You think I wouldn’t know your voice? I’ve been listening to it for hours every night over the phone for the past few days.”

Peter reluctantly reached a hand up to pull off his mask, “You’re good.” 

Despite having already guessed his secret identity, she still looked surprised to actually see him without the mask on. He squatted down in front of her to seem less intimidating. 

“So that was your stalker, I take it?” He asked. 

She nodded, giving a sad sigh, “The one and only. He’s a joy, isn’t he?” 

He plopped onto his ass and crossed his legs, giving her a shrug, “I don’t think he’ll be bothering you again. I may have had some, ahem, choice words to encourage him to find new hobbies.”

She smiled again, blinking back her tears, “Thank you, Peter. Or, should I be calling you Spidey from now on?”

He laughed, rolling his eyes, “Look, this is a big deal! You better not go running your mouth or else I’ll have to have some choice words with you, too.” 

He liked hearing the sound of her laugh, especially after everything she just went though, and he knew she would be okay. 

“I have a date with Spider-Man tomorrow,” she giggled. “How exciting.”

Peter chuckled, “The excitement wears off quickly, trust me.” 

She scooted closer to bring her mascara streaked face inches from his, “Somehow I doubt that.”

[pandoa]

puppy crush

when they have a crush on you

~headcanons~ ~twisted wonderland x gender neutral reader~

he makes it his mission to piss you off and tease you any chance he gets. at first it started off as a little harmless banter—he was bored and you were interesting. what other choice did he have? your face just looked so poke-able, your reactions so amusing, and your responses to his teasing were so captivating. like a running joke you two had kept up together over the course of time. a game he wished would never end. he didn't even notice when his heart had grown to love you until one of his teasing jokes went a bit too far and a bit too flirtatious than usual. one moment he had been playfully holding up a textbook of yours, laughing at the sight of you angrily trying to take it back from him and relishing the adorable way your form had leaped towards his own. but wait... how in twisted wonderland did his face end up hovering only inches away from yours seconds after?

ACE TRAPPOLA, leona kingscholar, FLOYD LEECH, jade leech, lilia vanrouge

he reads and watches anything he knows your interested in to strike conversation. it could be something he has no knowledge, interest, or liking for, but he will commit to it regardless. he just wants something in common to speak to you about—to give him an excuse to talk to you without any awkwardness. maybe to even impress you, too (although you never heard that from him). no matter how uninteresting, time-consuming, or silly the subject, he'd do his best to learn as much as he could if it meant that he could be just a little more closer to you. it's his determination that gets him through whatever book, movie, game, or show that piques your interest. he tries to act extremely knowledgeable about it as well, if only to catch your eyes' wonderous attention. he just wants to be noticed by you. please... look at him so that he knows these efforts aren't for naught.

riddle rosehearts, DEUCE SPADE, azul ashengrotto, jamil viper, EPEL FELMIER, idia shroud, malleus draconia, silver

he talks and rambles about you anywhere and everywhere. friends, family, teachers, random strangers just passing through, maybe even on a social media account of his if he is interested enough in the digital world. anywhere, really, if it meant that he could gush and swoon at the way your face had seemed to endearingly scrunch up in thought during class, or the way he had seen you begrudgingly gifting grim a part of your lunch in the cafeteria—making his stomach flutter at the utter kindness of your heart. if he could, he'd never shut up about your existence in the world, what with how every action you did was worth hours and paragraphs of his secret affections. the people around him are honestly either sick and tired of his rambles or eagerly awaiting an elegant wedding invitation at their doorstep very soon. it's quite amusing that you haven't caught on to his feelings just yet. he isn't very discreet about it, after all.

cater diamond, KALIM AL-ASIM, ROOK HUNT, malleus draconia, lilia vanrouge

he researches all there is to know about you. some would call it stalking, others would just call it plain creepy, but he means all the best with his never-ending research on you. it's not even sensitive information that he searches for. only the occasional spotting at the college's library, learning some routes you use to go to your next class by seeing you walk by him each day, even going to great lengths as he searches for your name on magicam, hoping to find your username within the masses of accounts on the site. he finds out what kind of people you like to surround yourself in based off of who your friends were. he finds out what subjects you like the most and what you tend to struggle in by noticing you during class. he finds out what movies, drinks, and celebrities you favor just by reading the things you post on magicam. he even finds what things make you ick, your pet peeves, and things that make you shiver in disgust—he has it all memorized like a book he would never wish to forget. again, it's not stalking. it was never meant to be stalking. he had just gradually learned these little things about you over the lucky time he had around you. as his interest for you grew with every new piece of information, so did his heart.

trey clover, cater diamond, jade leech, ROOK HUNT, idia shroud

he helps you with anything he can. it first it only started out as friends helping out friends. classmates assisting other classmates. but at some point of his interactions with you, he spot the way his emotions were much more excited to go help you study for the next alchemy test rather than going to study with another friend or underclassman of his. how with one call or text on his phone adorned by your silly profile picture, he was already halfway to the beloved ramshackle dorm, practically sprinting through the mirror chambers as he carried a set of tools in his arms and preparing for whatever issues the run-down building had caused you and grim now. he was like the reliable companion you would call for if any inconvenience required some assistance. a talented mage that had a solution to any and all of your problems. but he wanted to be so much more than that. so much more than the friend that would pick you up when you fell or lend you his favorite sweater when you were in need of warmth. can you not see? the man has grown to love you and immeasurably so.

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS, trey clover, RUGGIE BUCCHI, jack howl, jamil viper, vil schoenheit, silver

he avoids you. there's nothing more nerve-racking than being in the same room as your crush, let alone actually talking to you. you just make him feel all these strange emotions—from nervousness, to anxiety, fear, happiness, giddiness, and then back to nervousness, he'd rather not plague himself with such bothersome feelings. it's messing with his mind, and he is not ready to bare his emotions towards you just yet. but as much as he is trying to avoid you, he isn't really doing a very good job in doing so, if he should be honest. from the not-so-discreet ways he catches himself gazing at you from across the room only to quickly look away as he feels you turning his way, to the deep, scarlet tint of blush burning on his face whenever a mention of your name pops up in random conversation, his reactions to the smallest things make it difficult to not notice the crush he has on you. the people closest to him catch on pretty quickly. now, it's just you that needs to see through this man's avoiding facade.

deuce spade, azul ashengrotto, epel felmier, IDIA SHROUD, sebek zigvolt

what crush? the young man genuinely has no idea that the feelings he feels whenever you walk into the room or utter his name are feelings of romantic attraction. whether he is too blinded by his previous distaste for you or too wrapped up in the platonic nature of his relationship with you, the man will never get the message of his own emotions even if it sprouted legs and a set of arms holding up a sign that said "YOU LIKE THEM" in big, red letters. at this rate, it's you who must take initiative to further your relationship with him if that was something you wished to do. he'll never realize it himself unless you put him on the spot to sort out the mesmerizing flutter he feels in his chest whenever he's around you. just please put the people watching the two of you out of their misery. they've been watching this oblivious game go on for far too long.

riddle rosehearts, deuce spade, ruggie bucchi, jack howl, kalim a-asim, SEBEK ZIGVOLT

a/n: the fact that these were only supposed to be like 3-5 sentences each but my dumbass went ahead and wrote some long paragraphs for some of these- it's like my brain has no concept of WORD LIMIT

[deathmetalunicorn1]

During the Marineford war arc in One Piece, how would everyone react Blue Diamond reader using her powers which is similar to haki due to bringing down everyone on their knees and crying. She probably used her powers to save Ace from getting killed or she saw Ace killed which brought back horrible memories of seeing her sister(Pink Diamond) die right in front of her eye, any scenario is possible.

-Like a high speeding bullet you were speeding across the water, using your abilities to propel you at a rapid pace.

-Ever since Kuma separated the Straw Hats, you were trying to figure out where they were, looking for your new crew- your family.

-The only lead you got was where Luffy would be, after you heard that Ace had been captured and was going to be executed.

-You had never met Ace, but you knew that he was Luffy’s brother, and he always spoke highly of Ace- so you knew he would try to rescue him- so that’s where you were going to go- to help save Ace, so Luffy wouldn’t cry again.

-Your blood boiled as you thought about Luffy crying- he should never cry unless it was in happiness, and you were prepared to raze those who opposed you, who make him cry.

-You arrived at the Marineford, seeing so many fallen on both sides already and you quickly sought out Luffy before you saw him and another young man running from the scaffolds, the pirates celebrating.

-Your eyes narrowed, seeing the marines charging for them, weapons raised, and you saw the admirals and you quickly shot forward, looking so elegant, “Get away from Luffy!!”

-A blue energy shot from you, one that Luffy knew well, that hit all in front of you, making many fall to their knees in despair, crying heavily. Many were stunned by your power as you spoke, easily intimidating many around you, “If you’re a pirate- run to safety now!” You gave the pirates the opening to escape.

-Luffy beamed brightly at you, seeing you, “Y/N!” and you smiled, giving him a small nod as they ran by you, followed by others, running to safety, trying not to trip due to their tears.

-You then heard a voice, “Look out!!” you turned and Aikinu slammed his fist through your stomach, lava surrounding his hand, burning you.

-You were stunned, and you heard Luffy scream out your name in worry. You looked down at Aikinu before you stunned him by smirking, “And what did you hope to accomplish, boy?” You kicked him away before you turned, a hand over the hole as you ran for the ship.

-Once on Whitebeard’s ship, you used your ability over water to push the ships away from shore, pushing them out to sea before giving them a head start in escaping.

-Luffy ran over to you, seeing you injured, but you weren’t bleeding, “Y/N!” many others saw you, knowing that you were a Gem, and you smiled softly, now sweating softly, as you didn’t want him to worry as you bushed his tears away, “I will be fine Luffy. Just watch over me.”

-He was confused, “Watch over you?” you instantly went POOF and your gem, a large blue diamond, fell into his hand, stunning him before everyone started yelling, panicking.

-Whitebeard was amused, as he knew about Gems, grabbing Luffy who was running around, “Calm down you brat- Y/N will be fine!”

-All eyes turned to him as he grinned, getting his own wounds tended to, “Gems will reform if their bodies are injured, think of it as them taking a nap. Now if the gem had been damaged or shattered- then it would be bad. Since Y/N is a diamond- it will probably be a few days before they wake up.”

-This did calm Luffy, a bit, but he kept you close, holding you either under his hat or in his pocket, as he headed towards Amazon Lily, as he agreed to train with Rayleigh, to become stronger.

-When you reformed, a bright light surrounding your gem, many were stunned as you looked completely fine and you smiled warmly as Luffy cried loudly, leaping into your arms, which made you smile softly, feeling your own happy tears welling in your eyes.

-Luffy told you that everyone was going to train for two years, before meeting back up at the archipelago and you agreed to do the same, but you were going to remain with the Whitebeard Crew, as they had strong warriors, ones that you could train your own skills with.

-You were a little sad, but you knew it wasn’t going to be forever, not like your little sister, as you told Luffy to take care of himself and you would see him soon, which he grinned brightly at, agreeing with you.

[anathemafiction]

One for the Road

You're talking to him.

Hadrian can see your lips moving — Lord, he can never not see your lips moving — and he can hear your voice bathing his ears, but as much as he likes the sound, he's not making sense of the words. Hadrian stares at you and notices all the little details about your features. Sunlight comes in shredded shadows from between the branches of the willow tree. It makes a patchwork on your skin, the light and shade creating illusions of ridges and valleys in the corners of your nose, your cheekbones, and the flatland of your forehead.

Your eyes are crinkled, widening, and narrowing as you continue speaking, as animated as your hand, making swift, elegant notions through the air. Your other hand plays with the long, sinking leaves of the tree. It's approaching Autumn, so the leaves aren't bright green but are starting to deepen to a golden yellow. They hang around you like a veil, seeming to glow from a light of their own.

You're seated together below the tree, inside the tree, almost. Its radius engulfs you, and not very far, Hadrian can hear the soft song of a running creek mingling with the cadence of your voice. Birds sing somewhere above, insects with broad, heavy wings and large, colorful butts, buzz from sights unseen, and a tiny, bright red ladybug crawls up your bare arm — thin black feet treading along your skin as if it runs up a mountain.

Hadrian wonders if you feel it. You don't seem to. You're too intent on whatever it is you're describing. Your hand makes another great sweep, almost hitting him in the nose, and your voice pitches... before you settle down again. Your legs are intertwined with his, your bare feet warm against his calves, and your shirt is opened in the middle, gifting Hadrian with a peak of your collarbone and the upper part of your chest.

Hadrian stares at the picture in front of him. You bathed in golden sunlight, surrounded by golden leaves. He wishes he could find a word to describe what he's feeling. Not for the first time, Hadrian laments his lack of vocabulary. But however insufficient, he supposes he has to go with happiness. He's happy.

"Of course, it didn't stop there, it—" You snap your mouth shut and give him an odd look. "Why are you smiling like that?"

"Hmm?" Hadrian eloquently asks.

"I didn't get to the punchline," you say. "You're not supposed to laugh yet."

He loves the slight pout of your lips. "I'm not laughing. I'm, uh. I'm just smiling." Your dry look has him chuckling. "Sorry. I like looking at you, is all.”

For a moment, your expression mellows, but then you narrow your eyes and give him a piercing glare. “Don’t think your pretty words will get you out of this,” you say, waggling your finger at him. “If I find you weren’t listening to me again, Hadrian, I swear I’ll— “

You're interrupted by four tiny feet clamoring to get to your shoulder. You look down and notice the ladybug for the first time. Hadrian sees your surprise before it melts into a smile.

And Lord, what a smile it is.

"Hey, little lady. Where are you going?" you whisper, lifting a hand to it. The ladybug hesitates before your fingers, but you wait patiently, and then it crawls to your palm. Your smile softens, as does your voice. "I'm not a great place to be. Here."

You gently put your hand between the grass. The ladybug shakes its wings and leaps down gracefully. "Be safe," you wish it as it crawls away, round butt wiggling from side to side.

You stay looking at the insect for a while longer, but Hadrian is enraptured by you. When you finally look up, you see him staring. "Do I have something on my face?" you ask, fingertips touching your cheek.

"Yes," Hadrian says.

"What is it?"

He leans forward, hand cupping the back of your neck and bringing you to him. "Hadri—"

(…)

Your legs dangle in the air.

Your boots kick back and forth as you swing your legs to the sound of a wordless song. You tilt your chin at the cool wind whooshing atop the banisters and settle your eyes on the brilliant horizon. Sunset is coming, painting the sky in shades of red and making the clouds explode with an orange glow. Tarragona's terraces and ceilings pierce the horizon, the city sprawling before you.

"Striking, isn't it?" you say, eyeing the distant wall. Faint music from an unseen minstrel drifts lazily from the market, and you spy at least a dozen smoke columns rising into the air. Street lamps are being lit, and hearths are fed a good amount of timber.

From your side comes a cool, measured voice. "Indeed."

You grin. "I'm always impressed by your enthusiasm, Alessa," you joke, turning your chin to look at her. She sits with one knee tucked beneath the other while her free leg dangles alongside yours. To your surprise, you don't find her inspecting the horizon but looking toward you.

Her blue eyes are like two frozen ponds, her freckles like minuscule exploding stars against the white of her skin. "'Tis... pretty, one could say. But I do not find the sight of roofs and man-made canopies to be spectacular."

You lean your weight on your hand, considering her for a moment. "What sight would you find spectacular, then?"

Alessa seems surprised by the question. "Oh," she lets out but quiets, then, and lowers her eyes to her lap. Her left hand is near yours, filled with rings on the fingers. She's wearing a golden bracelet with no adornments but the gleam it catches from the dying sun. "I suppose I would find the sunset over the ocean to be worth noting. It has been a long time since I have witnessed one."

She admits this in a low voice, almost akin to a whisper. You smile at her profile. "The ocean, uh?"

Alessa lifts her head, facing you again. There's a familiar defiant glint in her eyes. "Yes," she says, adopting the tone she always does when she shares something personal and feels vulnerable. "'Tis more appealing than city walls, is it not?"

"It is," you agree. "I was just thinking that we're not far from the ocean, Alessa. Actually, you can see it clearly from the Harbor." You point in the direction of the Mediterranean Sea, covered now by a hill. "We could go there tomorrow or the day after. Sit on the docks and watch the sunset over the sea."

Alessa follows your pointed finger, and for a moment, her hair hides her face. She stays quiet for a while, staring out at the city. "What do you say?" you prompt.

Slowly, she turns her head to you. Her face is stoic, a wall as impregnable as the one circling Tarragona, and her eyes hold no emotion. Alessa stares at you, and you shift a little uneasily in your seat. Have you... offended her?

"You mean it," she says then, not a question but a statement.

You frown. "Of course, I do. Why else would I suggest it?"

Alessa doesn't answer. She's stiff, her leg immobile, and her hand curls beside yours, closing in a tight fist. You duck your head, trying to read beneath the ice in her gaze. "Alessa?" you ask, using the same tone one would use when approaching a predator. "You're alright?"

Suddenly, like a snake jumping out of the grass, Alessa moves forward,

(…)

Rafael scoffs.

"That's low hangin' fruit."

Your face scrunches up, and he fights back a smile at the outrage in your expression. "It's not," you argue. You slam your elbow on the table and lift a finger in the air. You almost stick it inside his nose. "It's pretty high damn fruit. It's the highest fruit you've seen in your miserable life. Higher than high. It's fucking tall."

Rafael leans back, making sure to give a disgusted look at your finger before the bastard drags his eyes up to yours. "I already knew your standards are low," he says and curls one side of his mouth in another sneer. Rafael likes to think he has perfected the expression. "But I never guessed it was this damn low."

He's rewarded by your frown. You're slightly tipsy so it's easier to ruffle your feathers. Your eyes aren't as sharp as usual – your gaze is unfocused and your lips part just a little bit, and Rafael thinks you look the perfect picture of an idiot.

He also thinks you look damn good, but Rafael is quick to push the thought away.

"Not gonna defend yourself?" he asks at your silence, giving you another one of his perfect sneers. "Given up already?"

You shake your head, and your gaze focuses. With narrowed eyes, you lean over the table to wag your finger right beneath his nose. "I know what you're doing," you say, then, tapping your finger against his cheek. "And it's not gonna work."

Rafael tries to sneer again, but his own body betrays him because he's pretty sure he's smiling instead. Oh, well, no worries. He'll just make it condescending. "I think it's already workin', sweetheart."

Your eyes widen, and Rafael lets out an internal laugh of victory. He's won this round. The bastard leans on his chair with a smug smile and rests an elbow on the back. "Your turn to buy the next round," he says, shaking his empty mug at you. "And make it quick, will ya? My throat's all dry."

But you simply stare, and slowly, Rafael's smug smile dies. Your face morphs again, but while he expected to see anger or exasperation, maybe, if he's lucky, a little bit of begrudging respect, Rafael sees...

Something else. Something that has his fingers nervously jerking on the mug. You stare at him, your pupils wider than he remembers, but it's not because of shock. And then, you lean even closer, your hand sprawling on the table to sustain your weight. "What did you just say?" you whisper then, and Rafael has never heard your voice like this.

He's heard you furious. He's heard you amused. He's heard you annoyed and joyful and pissed drunk and cynical and melancholic. He's heard you in many different ways, but never like this.

This voice has a fire burning on his stomach, and the hair on his arms standing to attention. "What?" Rafael asks, and fucking hates the squeak in his voice. He clears his throat and tries again. "Whatcha mean?"

"What did you call me?" you say in that voice again.

Fucking hell. Rafael likes it. "I call you many things," he answers, trying to sound nonchalant. It's hard when you press even closer. Your face is right beside his, and he doesn't miss how your eyes are fixed on his lips. Lord in bloody heaven. He feels hot all of a sudden. Why the hell is he so hot? "Was it idiot?"

You drag your eyes to his. "Stop playing, Rafael," you say. The way you say his name has his lower stomach turning. "What did you call me?"

Your hand lands on his, and he hears you dragging your chair closer. Rafael can only look as you fill his sight. "Sweetheart," he mumbles. It was condescending. A bloody insult. You got that, right?

Your eyes flicker down to his lips again. Rafael feels the sudden urge to grab your jaw and—

"Say it again."

"What?" he barks.

(…)

Ysabella lies with her chin in her hands and her feet kicking in the air.

You sit on the mattress beside her, your back supported by a mountain of fluffy pillows with silken covers and long, golden strings etched in the corners. "It's quite frequent in Navarra, especially in the Company’s headquarters. They're located way up to the north, right beside a large mountain range."

Ysabella’s eyes widen to two balls. "Really?" she asks with a gasp. "How frequent?"

"Usually, in the winter, but it can snow early in the year if it's particularly cold. I remember one freezing spring that had the fields painted white."

Ysabella kicks her feet back and forth. "In the spring?" she repeats in awe.

You can't help but smile. "Yes. There were no flowers that year."

The noblewoman extends her elbows and flops down on the bed. "You're so lucky!" she says wistfully, pivoting to lay with her belly up. Her dress gathers near her thighs. Ysabella looks at you upside down. "I've never seen snow even once in my life. It's never cold enough here to snow. The most I ever saw was hail in a particularly nasty storm."

From this angle, her cleavage is bare to you. Her dress hugs her breasts tightly, but you can see the extent of her golden skin perfectly. You clear your throat and look away. "You're not missing much," you tell her, suddenly very interested in the curtains. "Snow is mostly bothersome. And dangerous. I've seen people break their necks trying to walk over it. Plus, it's, you know. Cold."

Ysabella spins excitedly again, back to leaning on her elbows. But she no longer tucks her face between her palms — those are grabbing your forearm. "Describe it to me," she says, lips pouting in a flawless plea. "I've never once experienced it, but I can live vicariously through you."

Ysabella smiles then, one of her dazzling, perfect smiles. "Please."

Her curls frame her face, her eyes shine with eagerness, and her fingers squeeze your arm. You sigh. How can you say no? "Sure."

"Ah!" Ysabella squeals, and suddenly, she leans forward and plush, painted lips smooch yours. "Thank you."

You blink.

Ysabella is smiling, face back on her hands, feet kicking the air.

(…)

The entire piece is available on Patreon!

Part One — Hadrian, Alessa, Alain, Ysabella

Part Two — The Pirate King, Neia, Lance, Rafael

[dragon-ascent]

Crystalfly Catcher

Zhongli gets roped into helping you catch crystalflies.

★彡 pretty platonic, reader has messy hair, Zhongli has…his pillar

Guyun Stone Forest - a place Zhongli visits every now and then; sometimes to relax and other times to reminisce. The salty breeze, coupled with the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the stony shore, makes for a most remarkable backdrop indeed.

Except, there’s something interrupting that backdrop. Or rather, someone.

Zhongli is pulled out of his contemplative state by someone’s long-drawn-out groan, followed by a loud thud. Two crystalflies glide up into the air before vanishing into a glittering cloud.

Then, you come tumbling into the picture, quite literally. With another groan, you pick yourself up and dust yourself off before spotting a crystalfly and leaping towards it desperately.

“What are you up to?” Zhongli watches, bemused, as you miss the crystalfly and utter a string of curse words. 

“I’m catching - or at least trying to catch - crystalflies.” You push some of the hair out of your face, but the breeze is unkind.

“Might I ask what for?”

“Just crafting and adventuring purposes,” you answer, finally jumping down from the ledge and approaching him. Zhongli thinks he should perhaps purchase a hairclip for you, what with the way you hair whips around your face even wilder now. “I would have finished my crystalfly run here if the darn creatures weren’t always so high up...”

Zhongli nods, sympathetic, and opens his mouth to give you some kind words of encouragement, but then stops when he sees the look of pure contemplation on your face.

“Zhongli,” you say slowly, “you’re a tall man.”

He nods along, a small frown marring his nearly-porcelain face. “Yes...”

“And I’ve seen your powers. You summon, like, a climbable pillar or something.”

“A stone stele, yes,” he responds, waiting for where this will go. Although, he probably already knows the answer.

He watches as a wide grin spreads across your face. “You can help me catch crystalflies!”

*****

Thus Zhongli’s day takes an unexpected turn as you make him jump around for crystalflies. His suit and shoes are dirty, his dignity trampled, and his hair disheveled. Today, Zhongli truly learns what it means to feel frustration, as his fingers miss a fleeing crystalfly by a mere two centimeters. 

“Come on, use your pillar! Pillar!” you call out.

Sighing, he summons his stone stele and climbs up, swiping at the air - too slow, again. It’s disappeared. 

However, another up begins to flit up in the air from the ground-level, just barely halfway up the length of the stele, and Zhongli leaps off and snatches it, landing to the ground with elegance and a glimmering crystal core in his hand, the golden sheen of the crystalfly already fizzled out.

With a cheer, you run over and take the crystal core. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

“How many do you require?” he asks, a small sense of pride welling up within him for this small feat.

“Like...twenty more?” You grin, and Zhongli’s eyebrows rise up. More labour on his part, then? Although, there don’t seem to be any left today.

You know this as well, and so you bid him goodbye. Gathering your things, you offer an apologetic smile. “Thank you, Zhongli. I’m going to try my luck at Dawn Winery - I just hope master Diluc won’t mind...”

As Zhongli, smoothing out his hair and clothes, watches you depart, he wonders to himself how he will get you to return the favour. 

[the-travelling-witch]

i really just needed an excuse to talk about tattooed!kazuha yes it’s another modern au drabble

“What does this one mean?”

You were sitting next to your -currently shirtless- boyfriend, Kazuha, tracing your finger over his inked shoulder blade, following the trail of black forming a downward triangle with wings. Always fascinated by the art on his body, you had often admired the tattoos but never really asked about them. 

“Hmm, my friend Venti came up with the design for it, actually. We got drunk with a couple of friends one night and spontaneously decided to get tattoos together,” he chuckled. You could already imagine what friends he was talking about, raising a questioning eyebrow when you remembered a particularly stoic fellow. “Well, with varying degrees of enthusiasm, of course. But you know how Venti can be when he set his mind to something, especially when drunk. Besides, Xiao doesn´t hate us as much as he´d like everyone to believe.”

Now it was your time to laugh, vivid memories of the teal-haired man dragging his four drunk friends through the streets, desperately trying to prevent them from doing something stupid. Despite not wanting to accept it, he was the mom friend of the group and he´d be damned if anything happened to either of them.

“So what about this one?” Running your fingers up his arm, you followed what appeared to be a gust of wind carrying maple leaves up to meet the previously discussed art, forming an elegant sleeve.

“Ah, this one. It reminds me of home.” He let out a blissful sigh, crimson eyes softening at the mere mention. “In the town where I grew up, every autumn, the maple leaves would turn a deep vermillion and blanket entire streets in a thick layer of colour. It was quite the sight to behold, one I am still very fond of. One day, I hope I can experience this miracle again, with you by my side.”

The thought alone made your heart leap with joy and you offered a smile as genuine as his words. “I´d love to go with you, I´m quite interested to see where you grew up.”

“Great, it´s a promise then.” Kazuha intertwined his hands with yours, running his lithe fingers over the back of your hand as he noticed your gaze drift to the tattoo spanning his spine. “No questions about that one?”

“Well, I mean I do but…” Very hesitantly, you extended a hand towards it, although stopping before you could make contact with the mark. It was only when your boyfriend slightly turned his torso to grant you easier access to his back that your fingers touched the black lines. Mapping out the artwork, your eyes followed your digits on their path to forming a katana which was seemingly struck by lightning. “It seems different from the others. There´s such a seriousness to it, I don´t know how to ask about it.”

“It´s okay, I don´t mind. You are correct, though, when you say it´s more serious than the others. I got it to honour the loss of a dear friend.” His words seemed to send an electric current up your arm and down your own spine, goosebumps rising in its wake. “He was always looking for a new challenge or a new adrenaline rush and we did a lot of stupid stuff together. Then, he became fascinated with the idea of scaling a mountain infamous for its increased risk of lightning strikes. Despite my warnings, when I came back from a trip out of town, I´m sure you can imagine what sort of news I received.”

Swiftly retreating your hand from his skin as if you had cut yourself on the blade, you sucked in a harsh breath. “Oh Kazuha, I´m so sorry. I didn´t know…”

“No, no, I told you it´s alright, didn´t I, my love? This took place a long time ago and I´ve made my peace with it.” Gently guiding your fingers back to his spine, he pressed your palm against the dark lines again. “I have no qualms talking about what happened. My friend made a choice and I have to respect it, no matter the outcome. Of course, at first, I resented him and that mountain. But after all this time, I do not want to hold on to these feelings of regret and questions of ‘what if’. Rather, I´d like to think back fondly on all the positive memories we created”

“You´re amazing, do you know that? I don´t think a lot of people have that kind of strength.”

“Maybe that´s true,” he admitted. “But I can´t help but think that you´re a vital part of that strength. Your presence comforts me and I feel at ease even when I´m vulnerable in front of you. With you, I don´t need to run or hide who I truly am; I am no longer a leaf simply blowing in the wind. More than anything, I want to share my life with you, no matter if it's the euphoric highs or the unfortunate tragedies. In the end, I know I´ll be okay because I have you to return to, in the knowledge that you´ll welcome me home with open arms. I´m very grateful for what you do for me, I hope you´ll never forget that.”

“How can you spin every conversation into complimenting me, hm?” Your tone was light despite the tears threatening to weigh down your lower lash line. In an effort to convey your emotions, you leaned forward to place a kiss right between his bare shoulder blades, lips lingering when you felt Kazuha relax even more into your touch. “That´s quite the high praise your showering me with. All the same, I hope you´ll never forget that I always have your back.”

“I´m torn between being exasperated at the pun or kissing you senseless for being so sweet.”  You burst out laughing, forehead leaning against Kazuha´s shaking shoulders.

“Why not both?” you replied cheekily.

“Hmm, I believe that can be arranged.”

tag list: @mccnstruck @silentmoths @teyvattales @ainescribe

[aclowntiny]

Sunflowers and Snapdragons- Woozi x Female!Florist!Reader

Word Count: 5700 | Flower Shop, Fluff, Some Quiet/Sunshine Vibes | Warnings: a lil language & a couple naughty jokes oopsie

This latest photoshoot required going to a flower shop. It was this one specific one in Seoul that had three walls of flowers that made perfect backdrops. A lot of people already went to it for instagram shots, so there was some work cut out for them to make it unique, but everyone was confident carats would like it.

Seungcheol was really excited to visit the shop, having seen a lot of posts about it, and Minghao was admiring blossoms the moment they walked in. No one was at the counter yet, so they had some time to roam. Jihoon wasn't frustrated, though- they'd arrived with the crew over fifteen minutes early to scope things out. He strolled through one of the color-coded aisles, fingers gently brushing a delicate white bloom as Mingyu passed him by with a massive rose in hand.

"Are you using that for the shoot?"

"I'm not sure," Mingyu shrugged and grinned, "but if I'm not, I kind of want to buy it anyway. This will make great photos, too!"

As Jihoon glanced around, he could see that several members were already taking their own selfies with the flowers. Seungkwan had chosen a sunflower, Joshua was posing with a rose in a way that (at least, to Jihoon's eyes) only made him look like James from Pokémon, and Soonyoung looked like he was about to eat a marigold. To each their own.

Maybe he would join them later, but for the time being Jihoon was content to wander over to the pre-arranged bouquets wrapped up near the front. One was a splash of fall colors, reds, oranges, and yellows bursting from it, while another was a passionate, romantic red. This is red, too jokes aside, it was amazingly crafted, asymmetrical with one side waiting while the other burst like a firework, the perfect representation of an anatomical heart newly beating for its object. Who had such eyes as to create a work like this, Jihoon wondered as he leaned a bit closer, scanning the flowers and catching the fragrance of one of the small, thin roses making up the still-subdued half.

Right then, a figure came bouncing out of the doorway behind the counter, spinning in a circle in the air and making several small leaps to the counter before executing a few more clumsy, uncoordinated, unadulterated joyful dance moves. Several grooves later, your eyes flew all the way open and you jumped, hastily pulling a pair of airpods from your ears and straightening your apron again.

Jihoon A. kind of wanted to know what you were listening to B. was surprised to see someone like you running this elegant floral shop. You were young, surely close in age to him, and if your clumsiness, huge smile, and eager wave told him anything, not the usual personality one saw in a florist. Not that he ever made a habit of going to flower shops. He barely went anywhere, frankly.

"You're here for the shoot, aren't you?" Your voice came out barely above a whisper, and Jihoon was surprised just how pleasant it sounded.

Giving a hum in response, he nodded. “Is this shop yours?”

“Yes, sir,” you replied with a salute, “I studied the language of flowers for years and now I translate it for everyone!”

A very unique way to look at that. “I see. Alright, then, er, what are these saying?”

“Oh, those?” Your eyes fell on the largely peach-toned bouquet he pointed to and widened. “Uh, you know what’s funnier than those? This bouquet over here is my gag gift.”

Jihoon cocked a brow. “Flowers this beautiful as a gag gift?”

“Yeah, so like the yellow carnations mean ‘you disappoint me’ and the orange lilies are for hatred, oh and geraniums mean stupidity, so this one is the ‘screw you’ bouquet. People either get it with the gag card or just don’t tell the person,” you reply with a grin, hand waving over both the autumnal bouquet and his question.

“Ok, that is funny,” he agreed with a chuckle, unable to resist imagining getting one for one of the members without them realizing.

Before you could say any more, though, one of the photographers approached you, causing you to turn his way.

“Hi,” you waved, bouncing on your heels, “you’re here for the shoot, right? Which wall were we setting up at again? I made sure they were all ready.”

“We were planning on starting with the pink one.”

“Oh, good!” You clapped. “I was hoping you were going to use the pink one! Let’s go get started. …see you in a bit!” You called to Jihoon as they took him back aside to prepare.

Wow. Lot of energy. As the stylist got ready to check him over, he ended up next to Minghao and Seokmin.

“You sure seemed to hit it off with the florist,” he commented matter-of-factly.

“She just seems…really chatty,” he replied with a sheepish smile, “not how you usually think of a florist being.”

“Maybe not, but it’s kind of nice. A florist with a flower-like personality!” Seokmin said with a smile. Leave it to him to find an angle like that- such was his charm.

“I think you two would get along really well,” Jihoon told him with a teasing eye roll.

~

For this shoot, Soonyoung went first; he was paired with white flowers, which really made the pink backdrop stand out. The other members watched, some cheering and some cringing, as he posed, the lovely style of the shoot surely something carats were going to enjoy. That was how Jihoon thought of it, otherwise it wasn’t exactly his style, but thinking of bringing smiles to everyone’s faces was worth almost any concept.

After Soonyoung was Mingyu, who had yellow. At the professionals' prompting, you handed him a big yellow hibiscus, which he accepted with a smile.

“Your skin is so pretty!” You gushed. “And your smile is very nice.”

Mingyu looked quite pleased with himself, pulling himself up to his quite full height. “Well. You aren’t so bad yourse-”

“You remind me of my brother!” You added with an innocent grin, adjusting your name tag, which Jihoon saw read (y/n).

“Ah, right, thank you,” the tall rapper accepted the compliment sheepishly. Everyone else snickered behind him as you bounded back off, completely naïve to it all.

“You’re not going to be in front of the pink wall,” came a sudden voice at Jihoon’s side, sending him jumping back a bit.

Turning to face the sound, he was faced with the sight of you at his side motioning to his outfit. “You’re wearing red. That wouldn’t look good with the pink wall. You’re going by the white or the red one, huh? Oh, uh, not that you don’t look good, just color theory and all. You look really nice in red. If you don't usually, then you should wear it more often.”

He found himself flushing into the whirlwind at the compliment. Why, he couldn’t say- it wasn’t the first he’d heard, but something about the words coming from a florist stuck with him. “Thank you,” he replied stiffly, unsure what else to say, “I am going to the red wall. A few of us are going monochrome.”

“It’ll look great!” You cheered him on, handing him a single red rose.

"Oh, you don't need to-" Jihoon held the flower back out, but before he could finish you were bouncing off again at the photographer’s behest.

You talked to the others, too, but didn’t seem to give out any more flowers, just danced around the makeshift studio suggesting flowers and making adjustments, flitting around like a dandelion seed on the wind. Curious.

~

When the formal photoshoot was over, Seventeen gathered in front of the white floral wall to take group pictures with you in thanks. You insisted on doing 'a silly one', prompting some of the members to get really wild with their poses and wow Jihoon had no idea you'd be able to stretch your leg as high as you did. He held out your flower like a magic wand, having kept it in his hands the entire rest of the shoot- it was such a perfect rose, they even let him use it as a prop for some of the pictures.

A part of him still wondered why you gave it to him. Another part of him wondered what song you had been listening to when he first saw you. A third and final part just wondered why he cared when he had everything else in his life to think about.

Two was bigger than one. The only way Jihoon would ever find time to go back to that shop would be necessity, like if he left something behind, forcing him to return. Glancing, he saw the original jacket he'd entered the florists' with hanging on a peg behind the counter. Then promptly set his gaze drifting far from that, perusing a row of chrysanthemums as he followed the sea of men that was his members out the door.

"Goodbye!" You waved to them, apron flapping back and forth with the motion. "You were great models! I'll buy your pictures!"

A few cheers rose from the guys, Seungcheol, Joshua, and all three members of Booseoksoon at least. A wave of pride crashed over Jihoon's chest, probably because you were so earnest. Not because of the way the color of your eyes was brought out by the stars in them.

"We'll keep buying your flowers!" Seokmin called, waving the little bundle of pink azaleas he'd bought at you.

The last of you Jihoon heard as he exited your viral shop was a bright, musical giggle that echoed in his mind several times over.

~

Hands in his pockets, Jihoon made his way to leave the dorm the next day and go collect his jacket.

"You're leaving?" Soonyoung. Unabashed shock colored his tone, his mouth wide open.

"You're doing it too," Jihoon teased in response, a smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah, but I'm me. I go shopping, I take walks, but you? You never leave. Where are you going?"

"I left my jacket at the flower shop yesterday, the long one I had on over the red? So I'm just going to see if they still have it."

"That's one of your favorite jackets," Soonyoung commented as he opened the door, ushering the both of them past the threshold.

"I know, so I hope they still have it."

"You never forget things like that," his bandmate pondered with a tilt of his head.

"They must have put it somewhere weird," Jihoon shrugged in response.

The jacket conversation died there, but Jihoon couldn't help hoping his tiger-loving friend didn't suspect anything as he strode along the sidewalk, hailing a taxi.

~

No longer reserved for a day's shoot, your shop had some business. A teenage couple was taking pictures in front of the pink wall in the chaste embrace of first love, a man alternately held up bundles of white and red roses, clearly trying to make a decision, and there you were behind the counter, shimmying with one airpod in as you secured some daffodils with twine for an older lady. It seemed like Jihoon was going to catch you dancing every time he saw you.

Glancing further behind your counter, he saw his jacket hanging on the peg where it was left the day before. Bingo. Striding forward, he got in line behind Daffodil Lady, who was just finishing up handing off some won to you before you gave her a receipt. When he stepped forward, your face lit up so bright it sent a whole swarm of butterflies fluttering inside him.

"Hi!" You waved, popping out your single airpod and placing it back in its case- interesting that you did that now and not when you were helping the old lady- before leaning forward on your wooden counter. "Woozi, isn't that right, sir?"

He chuckled. "Oh, just call me Jihoon. Sorry to bother you, but I think I left my jacket here?"

You waved a hand, still smiling brightly. "Oh, you're not bothering me. You could never bother me. Well, unless you were, like, burning my shop down or something- that would bother me. No arson on my florals, please!"

Jihoon just chuckled with a shake of his head as you bobbed over to the wall rack that housed his jacket, plucking it off the peg. "This one, right?"

"Yes," he nodded, "thank you."

"Of course, Jihoon," you replied, using his name, "anything else I can help you with?"

Maybe it was the way you said his name, the fact that just showing up, taking his jacket, and leaving seemed lame, but suddenly he felt a strange bit of conviction wash over him. Turning around, his eyes scanned the rows upon rows of blooms, taking in the fluttering rainbow of roses and carnations, sunflowers and snapdragons, tulips and hyacinths, before locking on a soft purple bundle. He walked over and took them gently in his hands, returning to your counter.

"These are really pretty," he comments as he hands them to you, "I'd like to get some of these for my studio."

"I'll put them in a vase then," you replied with a nod as you trimmed them and stood them up, "great choice! Lilacs are pretty, and they symbolize new love. Maybe they'll help you write a love song."

Your eyelashes fluttered a bit as you spoke, and when you said goodbye, you told him you hoped you'd see him again soon. He was almost tempted to forget something again.

~

"These are nice. When did you get these?" Seungcheol waved his hand over the vase of lilacs on Jihoon's desk, head tilted inquisitively.

"I bought them when I went back to that flower shop to get my jacket."

His leader smiled. "Oh, from the really friendly girl? You bought flowers?"

His face felt a bit warm. "I felt weird leaving without buying anything. Having something to decorate is kind of nice anyway," he answered with a shrug.

"Well, it's nice to bring a little outside in, especially since you never go out," Seungcheol teased, elbowing him lightly.

"I do, too...sometimes."

"Oh yeah? When was your next plan to leave here?"

Shit. "Er, ah..." Light bulb. "To get lunch!"

Seungcheol raised a brow. "You always get that delivered."

"Well, fine," Jihoon teasingly huffed, crossing his arms, "then we'll just have to make do bringing outside in, won't we?"

"Nothing wrong with that," the older man replied, leaning back into the lilacs and inhaling their scent lightly, eyes dropping closed a bit, "I wouldn't mind having a vase or two to brighten up my brother's place."

"I could get you some," Jihoon blurted out, cursing his own response's speed.

That smile of Seungcheol's was no good. "Oh yeah?"

Jihoon's face warmed, but he didn't back down, doing his best at a flippant wave of the hand. "Sure, I mean...you were the one who wanted me to get out more, weren't you?"

"Yeah," the rapper replied with a fond glance Jihoon had to roll his eyes at, "I suppose I was."

~

You were dancing again when he came in, this time with more of a formal choreography- Vixx’s G.R.8.U, if he wasn’t mistaken. The moment you saw him, though, you popped out your airpods again.

“Were the lilacs mean to you?”

“What?” Jihoon frowned slightly, eyes fixed on the way you fell into a forward lean over your counter, peering at him with your chin in your hand.

“I’m just messing with you. Wondering if you gave then the boot and are looking for a replacement or something. Maybe they talked back.”

“Oh, I forgot, you think flowers can talk.”

“Don’t make me sound crazy!” You protested, eyes widening in what Jihoon hoped was mock-offense, “I just mean flower language like from the Victorian days!”

“I know, that’s why you have ‘screw you’ bouquets and whatever the ones you wouldn’t…” Jihoon trailed off, hand waving over the infamous peach bouquets from visit number one, either new ones or somehow you were magically keeping them fresh for days on end, probably the latter. They were in a different position, individuals parted this time, revealing a card attached to the wood backing that revealed their price and identity. Those particular bundles, filled with coral roses, tiger lilies, and the occasional carnation and dotted with coriander flowers, were dubbed the “Let’s Get Down to Business” bouquet.

“Not red?” Jihoon mused quietly out loud.

Your gaze drifted diagonally downward; clearly you heard him, faint panic rising to your eyes as they fell upon the very-directly named arrangements you’d made.

"Those weren't my idea, just my translation! It was a popular request! Er, and no," you stammered, not meeting his eyes, “red’s more romantic than…uh, well, forward. Red is usually more for true love.”

You look really nice in red. If you don't usually, then you should wear it more often. “I see." His own stare trailed to the floor. "Well, are there any flowers just for friendship? I don't know if you remember S.Coups from the shoot-"

"One of the other red guys, right?"

He had been placed at the red wall. "Right."

"Medium tall? Black hair?"

Rather than point out that that description would match multiple members, Jihoon just nodded. "Yeah, the leader."

"Say the name guy," you agreed, mirroring his nod.

Say the name guy. He exhaled in amusement at that. Cute, but totally accurate. Jihoon was going to use that sometime. Seungheol would get a kick out of it too.

Fingers gently caressing a lily, he repeated what you said with a nod of his head and a twinkle in his eye.

“So S.Coups needs flowers now?”

“He said he wanted some after he saw the lilacs.”

You lit up. “Yellow roses are perfect to show friendship! How are these?” You asked as you pulled out a vase of yellow flowers.

“Perfect.”

“And I’ m really so honored you guys like my shop,” you added with a little bow as you started ringing up the vase.

“I’ll never go anywhere else for flowers,” Jihoon told you with a smile, “also, I have to ask- what music are you listening to?”

You glanced down at the counter again sheepishly, but a big smile spread across your face. Cute. You should tell her. No, shut up. That’s weird. “Well, I like upbeat stiff a lot. Right now I’m listening to-”

“Vixx-sunbaenim? G.R.8.U?”

Your eyes widened. “How do you- Oh, wait, I guess you would,” you chuckled nervously, “yes. That first day I was listening to MCND’S H.B.C. I guess I like acronyms!” At this, you gave a full-blown laugh, that sound better music than anything your airpods could have come up with.

“I guess so,” Jihoon said, and with that he left, wishing he knew what else he should have said.

"Oh, and here. Since those aren't for you, this one is," you stopped him before he left, leaning forward with a large camellia in hand.

As he waited for another cab, Jihoon snuck a glance into the wide windows of your shop and saw you, airpods back in, twirling around again behind your counter, heart constricting at the sight.

~

“Wow, that’s a really hype beat! I’m going to have to come up with a fast dace, aren’t I?” Soonyoung waltzed into Jihoon’s studio with a teasing groan.

Jihoon paused the instrumental immediately, eyebrows furrowing. “I don’t know, this is just something I’m working on. I felt like making something upbeat.”

“Well, I can see why,” his hyung commented with a nod further into the room, “I think you have a problem.”

Giving a quick dart of the eyes across the room, the composer took in the four vases of flowers placed on two empty chairs and the two empty desk spaces that had once remained. “What do you want me to do?” He replied quietly, curtly. What else could he do, for that matter? He was running out of excuses to go see you. “I can’t think of any other reason to go!”

Soonyoung’s brows furrowed, gaze alternately narrowing and widening. “Huh- oh. Oh!” He smiled, a sight that usually didn’t bother Jihoon, but this one was even more immature than Seuncheol’s. “You want to see that florist again, don’t you? I was just going to tell you you were getting addicted to flowers.”

“Addicted to flowers?” Jihoon chuckled into the words despite the slight glare on his face.

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve seen you do weirder things for inspiration,” Soonyoung replied with a shrug. “I saw her dancing, are you making a song for her?”

“No.”

“Well, it’s not a bad idea.”

“Well, I’m not doing it.”

“What a couple, you too,” Soonyoung shook his head, “you’re like a sunflower and a snapdragon.”

Two impulses rose, one to correct his tiger-loving bandmate that he and you were not a couple at all and one to state that in fact, you’d displayed those very two next to each other down the aisle of wooden boxes with all the yellow-toned stock. They apparently went together to some people. Maybe that was just offering ammo, though.

“Do you just buy flowers and leave? She’ll never know you like her.”

“She’s not supposed to. I mean, I don’t. Not really. Just a little.”

Soonyoung gave Jihoon his hoshiest cat eyes, shuffling closer with his hands behind his back.

“Look, I don’t have time to date anyone anyway.”

One more shuffle across the hard floor. Every muscle in Jihoon’s body tensed slightly. “How much time out of the week do you spend on trips buying flowers? A dinner or two’s time, you suppose?”

“I’m…I’m not good at saying stuff like you are,” Jihoon finally sighed into the unrelenting cat eyes and lopsided grin. “I should just be happy to go in and get flowers.”

“You want me to do it for you?”

“No.”

“I can. I’ll go in and just tell her how much you-”

“Absolutely not. That would be worse.”

“Well then, if you want it done right, you’re right. The only way is to go do it yourself,” Soonyoung concluded with a nod.

The worst part is that it wasn’t a bad point, damn his Bugs Bunny method. Didn’t change anything though. Time was still short, he wasn’t totally sure you were interested, and the mental image of any discomfort crossing your face on his account was nearly enough to bring a slick of sweat to his tightening palms. Going to your shop was all he had.

“I’m not going to harass her,” he finally spoke again, imagination starting to fade back away into reality.

“Then don’t. Maybe you should try…” Soonyoung paused for dramatic effect, opening his palms in little stationary jazz hands. “Complimenting her.”

“Complimenting her?” Jihoon repeated dumbly, hands opening and sliding back toward his keyboard, yearning for comfortable, familiar territory.

“Sure. Say something nice, see how she reacts. Kindness without commitment.”

Not a bad idea. He didn’t have to say anything stupid, after all. Nothing too weird. Drumming his fingers on the solid edge of his keyboard, he wracked his brain for things to say. What he said would depend on the context of course, because he’d only say something nice in response when it came up, not just blurt it out, and it has to be normal, not something out of the lyrics he definitely hadn’t been toying with writing about you.

“You’re overthinking things now, aren’t you?”

Jihoon opened his mouth fecklessly, no sound coming out, but before he could chastise his friend the studio door swung open again.

“Jihoon, we need to talk about all the flowers all over the dorms, you’re killing the rest of the vocal unit’s allergies and Jun just complained that-”

Seungcheol, the one who opened the door, swung into the room and locked eyes with Soonyoung, who crossed his arms and smiled with a nod.

“I’m on it,” he said.

Jihoon’s head fell into his hand, beat all but forgotten as he cursed his own slip of the tongue. Should’ve had the flowers sent to his mom or something.

~

“I, uh, listened to the songs you mentioned.” Jihoon stood at your counter yet again, hands wringing a bit nervously. He waited a week this time, practically the longest he'd gone, and the sight of your smiling face was like a pitcher of water in the desert. He wished you knew that, but wasn't about to be the one to tell you right then.

"Oh, yeah?"

"I liked them."

"Oh, good! I know you literally make music for a living so it would be pretty embarrassing if I recommended you stuff and you thought it was terrible or poorly made or whatever you call it when they don't produce it right if there's a word for that and I did, well, whatever the opposite of impressing you is."

"You always impress me," Jihoon chuckled.

"Oh, with my flowers, right." With a small unreadable smile, you glanced down at a set of pink tulips you were wrapping up.

"Not just with your flowers."

~

"And then you just LEFT?" Soonyoung burst out indignantly, arms flung open wide.

"What else was I supposed to say? I didn't have some poem to read her, song to sing! That was hard enough," Jihoon shot back, once again sitting with crossed arms in his now even more flower-filled studio.

"Oh no no no," Soonyoung shook his head over and over again, "no no no, this won't do at all. You can't be cryptic like that and just-" He sighed. "You're going back there. Now."

Jihoon didn't even look up from his laptop this time. "And waste all my cab fares?"

"You don't think seeing her is a waste and you know it. Otherwise we wouldn't have these, remember?" Soonyoung loosened one tulip from the pink bundle, sliding it upward from the vase until Jihoon smacked his hand, finally looking up into his triumphantly smiling face. "See? And if you're so worried, I will personally drive you back to her shop."

For once, the impulse to shoot back against the gloating wasn't there. "Do- do you really want this for me that bad?" He asked in a quiet voice.

"Call me a fool for love," Soonyoung replied.

Jihoon gave a small smile. "That's if you're rushing into something for yourself."

"Well, call me a fool for other people's love, then," his hyung grinned.

"Well, if you support it so much, then do me a favor...don't be there watching over my shoulder. I'll go back. Alone." Sighing and grabbing his bag, Jihoon made his way out of the studio once more.

Soonyoung just shook his head, chuckling. "What a couple you two are," he echoed his own earlier words at the composer's back.

Jihoon hailed the second cab of the day with a flush of embarrassment, not that this completely different driver would know why, it just felt like he did. Felt like everyone did. As he sat down, giving the address of your shop, he felt his phone vibrate. Reaching back, he slid it out of his pocket just far enough to see the notification.

Kwon Soonyoung: You got this 👍🏼🐯

All he could do was sigh again, this time with a shaky smile.

~

“Forget something?” If you were bothered by Jihoon’s return, you hid it well as you stood there, hands around your lovely face in a flower pose. A florist with a flower-like personality, just as Seokmin said.

“No. Well, sort of. I just suddenly needed-”

“Flowers for a pretty girl you just saw? I tease but you wouldn't believe how many times that actually-"

His hands involuntarily flexed, eyes scanning row upon row of nature's resplendent bounty as if to find the flowers that would do his job for him. Make it easier. Say all the words that had been planted in his heart on the day he first saw you, even if he hadn't realized how deeply they'd take root.

Wait, flowers did speak. You'd taught him that- there were friendship flowers, true love ones, sex ones apparently...and blooms for budding feelings.

"Lilacs are pretty, and they symbolize new love," you'd told him. That had lived rent-free in his mind for a good few days, even inspiring a few lines of lyrics ever since your sweet voice had spoken the concept into existence in Jihoon's universe, one that seemed far expanded at every one of your floral revelations.

"Yes, that's exactly it. Shouldn't it be lilacs, then?"

For the first time Jihoon had seen since he met you, you stopped fidgeting, standing completely still, jaw parting silently. Your eyes had widened a bit, narrowed with the furrowing of your brow, then blinked once, twice.

“Yes, I guess it should. You- you could also do a camellia bunch if you’re trying really hard,” you offered, head tilting his way with an inquisitive look, "but that's more like you've realized that you are in love."

A camellia. One of those big, pink, beautiful but fragile flowers he enjoyed, but also found inconvenient. Messy. Except he hadn’t minded when you gave him one- oh.

Oh.

Maybe this would be easier than he thought. Maybe, as much as it pained Jihoon to admit it, Soonyoung was right. Maybe dinner was easier than refilling six vases of water every other day.

“Which do you prefer, (y/n)?” He asked with a smile, using your name, which he rarely did, and catching a faint, flickering smile.

“I like camellias myself. The shape is appealing and the meaning is stronger. Though if you’re giving them to a stranger, I mean sheesh, lilacs are probably more-”

“No, I want the camellias. They’re for a pretty girl, remember?”

“I remember.” You weren’t dancing then. Your voice was flatter than usual. Preparing the paper, you cut the nicest-looking pink blossoms that Jihoon could see in the bunch, glancing awkwardly at him a few times before you handed it to him. “Well, alright, she better appreciate these or else she isn’t worth your time. You’re doing something nice after all, and I’ve seen girls complain about flowers their husband got them just because they were from the store and that’s messed up, so don’t you dare let her- Let her…”

Your ramblings trailed off as Jihoon accepted the bouquet, then immediately handed it back. Those usually wide eyes of yours just trailed down to the flowers, brows furrowing once again, the color of them obscured faintly by the motion.

“Is something wrong with them? Or was that the wrong color? Usually pink is the best if you want the love thing to come across, yellow's a bit platonic, but I'm sure whoever she is will like them if she's such a-"

This time, Jihoon cut into your words verbally, even as his eyes faltered, falling to the floor then back up to you, daring to ever so slightly meet yours. "You're the only pretty girl I've seen."

Jaw dropping, you took the bundle of flowers as if you'd never seen anything like them before, pulling them into your chest gently enough not to squash them, but a few petals still drifted to the floor because, well, camellias.

"So you really do like me too?" That wide smile Jihoon had come to miss on off-days, practically having it painted as a mural inside his eyelids, returned in full force as you looked between the flowers and him, knocking down the barrier that kept your counter private and stepping around.

Jihoon's breath hitched, words failing him as he simply nodded.

"Well, you know what?" You asked.

"What?" His voice felt hoarse, stolen now by your proximity, your side brushing his.

"No one's ever gotten me flowers before," you tell him with a grin before the bouquet is against his back, your arms thrown around his neck as you pulled his lips into yours.

Your smile, the way the white lights and sun filtering into your bright shop reflected in your eyes before they drifted shut, the way he could even see the spokes and intricate patterns within them thanks to the illumination, the feeling of you against him, was practically too much for Jihoon, and he quickly felt his head empty of thoughts, giving in only to sensation. No one had kissed him like you were in a long time, maybe ever, and he barely knew what to do with himself as his hands slid down to hold your waist, lips surging forward again and again.

You giggled as you two finally parted, keeping your forehead against his. "I didn't expect you to be a biter!"

If he hadn't already been flushed at the joy in your eyes as they stared into his, he would have been beet red at your comment. "Ah, did I... (y/n), I- I'm sorry, I-"

"Don't be, it's ok," you reassured him, smile not fading a bit, "you're just a bit of a snapdragon."

"You know, that's not the first time I've heard that."

"Oh yeah?" You laughed at that, nose crinkling. "And what am I then?"

"I'd say a sunflower."

A mock-pout fell across your face. "A friendship flower? After all that?"

"Look, I don't do flowers," Jihoon muttered, "I do lyrics."

"Oh, that’s right," you told him, smile returning quickly, "duh. Then sing something."

You barely heard your shop bell ring beneath his voice as he began singing, shakily before his voice found gravity, the two of you shoving off each other at light speed, adjusting your hair and clothes as the next set of customers swung the door open with faint looks of surprise.

"Er, flowers so beautiful you'll sing," you tell them with an unsteady grin, a nervous giggle, and one final, fluttering glance at Jihoon that melted him, spreading your arms out wide, "what can I help you find?"

Jihoon drifted back into a corner, for once not feeling he needed an excuse to stay there even though he had one: he wasn't leaving until he'd actually gotten your phone number.

[prythiansfavoritefox]

Elain focused on her breathing, trying to steady them. 1, 2, 3. She had had the dream again. The dream that was not a dream, but an unfortunate reality she had to relive every time she fell asleep.

Her father, who had died in front of their very eyes. Her father who had been depressed and disabled for much of his life, but came back to fight for them in the end. Who had been so heartlessly murdered by the King of Hybern.

She took a shaky breath as the tears began to fall down her face. She missed her father so badly, but she could not speak to this with her sisters, who had resented him greatly. And she understood, she really did, but...it would be nice to speak to someone who truly loved him for once.

Alas, there was no one to speak to but a cold grave. Getting up, Elain brushed her hair, sweeping it into an elegant bun. She hesitated, looking at the coat in the closet before deciding she didn't have the strength to fight her need for comfort. She threw on the coat, savoring the lingering scents on it.

Nobody else appeared to be awake. Good. She wished to take this journey alone without being followed or questioned. She wasn't stupid; she knew Nuala and Cerridwen had been set on her to keep track of her movements. Well, there was little she could do to counter that. At least she could befriend them and try to get them on her side so she could gain benefits.

The entire Inner Circle would probably faint with shock if they saw that Elain had taken such a long journey on her own two feet. It's not proper for a lady to walk this far! She's too delicate to walk this much! Pahhh. They always seemed to forget that they would all be dead were it not for her killing the King of Hybern. It wasn't something she much liked to talk about because of her aversion to violence, but some days she wished to scream it so that they'd think she's actually worth something.

Hell, Cassian would be dead too were it not for her. He had lost so much blood due to the shredded wings that he had been inches away from death. Elain had used her healing powers on him, and Cassian, half-delirious with blood loss, had not realized what she'd done. Not even Elain knew how she'd done it, considering when Feyre had been bleeding and dying months later, she had been unable to summon the powers again, no matter what she did.

The only good thing about that was that Nesta had managed to save them and the Inner Circle didn't know about her raw magic, otherwise they would find a way to use her too. No, better they think her a useless silly little thing.

As she walked towards the headstone, to her surprise, she already found somebody there, kneeling beside him. For a wild moment, Elain thought that it might be Nesta. She knew she had somewhat made her peace with him recently, so it wasn't entirely out of the realm. She began to run towards her father's resting spot, crying out, "Nesta!" The person beside the grave turned around. Elain's words died in her throat.

"You're-you're not Nesta." Way to be fucking obvious, Elain. But she could hardly think with him near her. When she wasn't dreaming of her father's death and stabbing the King of Hybern, she was dreaming of him.

Well, shit. She was wearing the cloak Lucien had given her that day by the Cauldron. How embarrassing. Her face went beet red as Lucien's eyes focused on her, taking note of her bare legs and the cloak around her shoulders. Her body began to pulse everywhere from her chest to between her legs, and she knew Lucien could hear it. She clenched her hands in her dress, resisting the urge to grab him at that very moment and kiss him senseless. That would be highly inappropriate; they were at her father's grave, for god's sake.

"Elain," he said so quietly she almost didn't hear it, leaping to his feet and bowing to her. "Apologies, lady. I shall leave you to grieve in peace."

Elain grabbed his wrist as he was about to leave. How could she have forgotten? He'd known her father. He'd gone to the continent and brought him back based on her vision. "Please," she breathed. "Stay."

Lucien looked at her hand then back into her eyes. "Ok," he said slowly. He lowered himself down to the grave again, Elain going with him. They sat there in comfortable silence for some time before Elain whispered, "You knew him. My father."

"Yes, I knew Tristan. He was a good man, at least in the time I knew him," he replied. "Feyre never seemed too fond of him, though."

Elain sighed. "Feyre and Nesta never forgave him for leaving us to fend for ourselves during poverty."

"Well, I can't blame them." Elain opened her mouth to protest, but he went on. "But he'd lost his wife and could hardly walk. I don't blame him for hurting either. He tried his best, in the end, to do right by you girls."

Elain nodded. "Poor Papa. Feyre and Nesta were always snapping at him for making his little wood carvings instead of finding a way out of poverty. Perhaps if they'd been a little gentler with him, he might have..." a sigh. "Anyway, he's gone now."

Lucien squeezed her hand. "No one dies as long as their reputation lasts." Elain snorted lightly. "Are you some sort of philosopher or something?" Lucien raised his brows teasingly. "Maybe I am."

Elain couldn't resist smiling back. "What was he like? Papa. With you."

Lucien smiled reminiscently. "He was a very single-minded person. He might have only been human, yet he could command a room with his voice. Very charming, very forthright. And he couldn't shut up about you girls." He laughed. "I remember when I finally told him that we're mates, he grilled me for hours. About my birth, my occupations, my habits. Internally I was terrified of disappointing him, but at the end he just handed me a drink and said, 'You don't look quite like the man I imagined my Elain will marry, but you certainly act like the man I want her to marry.' Then he told me stories about all your childhoods for the rest of the night."

Elain beamed. That sounded a lot more like her father before their family had been lost to poverty. It made her happy that her father was able to be more like himself with someone before he'd left. "Thank you for telling me this," she murmured. "It's nice to talk to someone who knew him as I did."

Lucien inclined his head. "Happy to be of service, my lady."

Elain leaned her head against his shoulder and did not move for a long time.

Inspired by the post I saw a while ago saying Lucien visits Papa Archeron's grave!

[fionajames]

ethereal pt. I

A/N: Hey, guys! This is the 60 followers celebration!!! There will be more parts of this, don't worry. Please send some requests! i'm dying here. Enjoy!

(divider by @saradika-graphics)

Anakin had never really understood why he and his siblings seemed to always be on missions, but he enjoyed it nevertheless. With the continuous noise of the war, the quiet hum of the Temple was eerie and upsetting now. It unsettled him. Plus, he much rathered being with his troops - which was near impossible when off missions. 

Now he stood beside his sister as they exited hyperspace, on yet another mission. This time, it wasn’t a battle to fight. The Council wanted them to explore a strange planet, inquire if it had inhabitants and was a suitable place for a Republic base. Missions like these were usually pretty relaxed and easy-going.

The ship flew into the atmosphere of the planet, and Ahsoka gasped at the beauty of it’s terrain. Anakin stared in awe, and he heard Obi-Wan murmur a word of surprise. The planet had oceans of glimmering white and transparent water, the soft green of the forests meeting it with a delicate flow. 

As they flew closer, Anakin could see the reflection of their ship in the glimmering water, and heard Rex whisper, “Maker,” breathlessly. He couldn’t help but agree.

When the three Jedi, Clone Captain and Commander left the ship, they were met by the warm light offered by the sun, bathing them in a sense of deep peace. Ahsoka fell to her knees in the mosslike grace, her fingers running through the blades of it with content joy. “Oh, it’s beautiful,” the Togruta whispered, voicing their thoughts.

They set out into the forest, the song of the trees and birds floating in the air. Ahsoka had escaped into the canopy as she often did when they were in the woods. But, usually it was to hunt. Now, she didn’t dream of laying a finger on any of the planet’s fauna.

They continued on until Ahsoka’s voice called down to them. “I can see something up ahead,” she explained, leaping from one tree to another with wondrous ease. “It looks like a building.”

She was right, up ahead was a huge building - a castle of sorts.

It was tall and huge, a building of shimmering white limestone. It had pillars all around the front and sides that reached up to the second floor of the castle. It had steps leading up to a porch with huge white doors directly ahead. The building was huge, it looked like to be about an eighth of the size of the Jedi Temple, and it was far more ethereal.

Around the building, the forest ceased and melted into a huge garden, a pond on each side of the yard. The water was once again the whitish transparent colour of the seas. Flowers, trees and bushes decorated the garden.

The building was three stories tall, with strange etching into the walls. Between the first and second floor, the designs looked like ivy bound around tall, hooded and faceless beings. The creatures themselves weren’t faceless, but their faces and features could not be seen. They and their species remained anonymous. 

Above the first floor, the second floor had a large balcony, covering the area above the porch. The windows of the building were huge and of a darkish shade, as though tinted. The doors were also tall and huge, white paint covering them all - not even a scratch on any of them.

“Where are we?” Cody breathed out, reaching forward to rub a leaf between his thumb and index finger. Obi-Wan strolled forward, gazing around. The group trailed behind him as he moved to knock on the door of the building. No answer. Not even the sound of footsteps. He knocked again, then thrice, and nothing.

“Perhaps we should-” Rex began, but they all froze when the doorknob twisted in Obi-Wan’s grasp, and the door opened easily.

“Who would leave their door open?” Anakin wondered out loud as the ginger nodded, entering the house first. The interior of the house was no less beautiful and elegant than the outside, gold features as decor and chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The house was lit by candles everywhere, their wicks gleaming with the flames. Instead of eerie, it was comforting.

Ahsoka wandered forward, reaching out and lacing the Force around her fingers. The feeling of it provided her solace, as she found the house so oddly warm and welcoming it worried her. She was the first to notice the first sign of something wrong.

“The candles,” she breathed out, moving to a beautiful mahogany desk where a set of candles were placed. She ran a finger down the wax, shivering as she did. “They’re burning low. No one has been here for a while.”

The others murmured their agreement, Anakin’s brow furrowing as he strode forward to stand by her side. He ran a fingertip over the surface of the desk, bringing his finger up to examine it. “But no dust.”

“I see no reason as to why someone living here - cleaning their furniture and house - would not replace the candles,” Obi-Wan mused. “After all, this house shows us extreme wealth, surely they can afford candle replacements?”

“Or why not use the lights?” Cody pointed out, gesturing to the unlit chandelier hanging above them. “So many beautiful lights, and none of them on?”

Rex shuddered. “There is clearly something wrong here. What, I do not know, but there is something wrong.” Anakin nodded, pulling his sister closer to him. 

“I suggest we explore. Perhaps someone has fallen dreadfully ill or is in danger,” Obi-Wan reasoned and the others all nodded their agreement. Together, they set off into the mansion. They agreed not to venture anyway alone as they explored, finding room after room after room. They encountered many pieces of beautiful furniture and more than one piano, as well as empty rooms and bathrooms and everything else imaginable.

They went upstairs as well, finding more and more rooms with beautiful things, bedrooms joining the list of rooms. Once they’d explored the entire house and found no inhabitants, they trekked back downstairs and ventured out through the back doors.

The garden around the back was just as beautiful as the one out the front, hedges of green and ponds of clear. There were statues out here as well, ivy tangled around them in a beautiful contrast between the green and white.

As they moved around the corner Ahsoka gasped, and the others turned to her. “What is it?” Obi-Wan asked gently and she pointed to the statue in front of her. The statue looked identical to her - a Togruta with the very same markings as her. It looked to be wearing some sort of toga, the fabric wrapped around the Togrutan girl. She looked a year or two older than Ahsoka, the ivy wound around her torso and laying in the bridge between her montrals. 

“She looks exactly like me,” Ahsoka whispered, reaching her finger up to trace the marking on her cheek. “Only a little older and wearing… whatever that is.” 

“Must be a coincidence,” Rex spluttered, slightly disturbed at the idea of a statue of his sister in someone’s garden. “Perhaps your ancestor.”

“Perhaps,” she murmured, turning and shuffling behind her best friend. Rex hugged her quickly before they continued on. It only took them a minute for her to speak up again. “Look! That’s Skyguy!” 

The group turned to where Ahsoka was pointing and sure enough, another statue stood. This one was a human male, who looked exactly as Anakin did, only his hair slightly longer. He too was wearing clothing like a toga, and he even had the same scar. “That can’t be a coincidence,” Anakin muttered, pointing at the scar over his right eye. “That’s identical to mine.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Cody suggested hurriedly, shivering. 

But Obi-Wan stopped him.

“We should look at the other statues too, perhaps they might give us a hint as to what is going on,” he decided and the others reluctantly agreed. They quickly found another statue, this one of none other than Obi-Wan.

Only minutes later, they inspected the last two statues to find that they were Rex and Cody, also in togas - just like the rest of them. It was strange seeing them in clothing other than their armour, but their scars on their faces showed it was definitely them.

“Can we please go now?” Rex asked, itching to get out of the garden. He glanced back at the house, staring at the candle’s flickering in the windows. He was holding Ahsoka close to his chest, worry evident on his face as she nodded eagerly.

“I suppose we should,” Obi-Wan agreed, brow furrowed. “But I am confused. How and why are the statues of us in this garden?” They all murmured their agreement, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation, but to no avail.

“Because,” a gentle, silky voice called from behind them and the five turned to see a young woman - around Anakin’s age - with stormy grey eyes, long wavy golden hair and tan skin, dressed in a strange white toga. “We’ve been awaiting your arrival.”

A/N: Hope you enjoyed!!! Send requests please!!!

(taglist: @transmascanakin, @techs-goggles9902, @skellymom)

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

Deliriously Happy

 “Loki and the reader are in a forced marriage. They don't like each other but secretly are in love with other and the sexual tension between them is very high. One day the reader gets sick, really sick so Loki takes care of her himself (not the maids). The reader finally realises and the confession results in hot steamy and smutty sex.”

A request for  @slaveforloki​ ! Hope this is to your liking! BTW I didn’t realize it before, but my Asks were closed, so now they are on (and open) for anyone who wants to send me a req! Enjoy the one-shot!

PAIRING: Loki x Virgin!Reader CONTENT WARNING: 18+ MINORS DNI. Smut, forced and unhappy marriage, Loki is an Asshole, illness, virgin kink, breeding kink WORD COUNT: 5.7k

Your wedding day was the worst day of your life.

It was hard enough for Odin to maintain a tentative peace between Asgard and Jotunneheim, but then there came the whispers in Vanaheim of a discontent with Asgard, and a possible desire to go to war. As a result, Odin picked you, only daughter of the Vanir King, to wed his second son, Loki Odinson, to create an alliance instead.

Why he’d picked his second born instead of his more formidable (and dashing) heir apparent Thor, was beyond you. All you knew is, you were shipped off to Asgard like a prized sow going to market, meeting your intended for the first time on your wedding day.

You’d been led into a small sitting room, furnished to the nines with the most plush and beautiful of furniture. Sitting on a sofa, you were left alone for several minutes in nervous anticipation before Loki finally trudged in with a guard, statuesque and handsome, but clearly in a rush. Coming over to you, you got to your feet and quickly ran a hand over your dress in a vain attempt to make yourself look pristine for your betrothed.

Looking you up and down for an inordinately long time, making you shiver, Loki finally shrugged, turned to his assistant and said, “She’ll do.”

Then he went to leave.

You couldn’t believe it. A one-minute glance-over and that was it?

“Excuse me, but don’t you want to know my name?” you asked, you voice strong and angry at the rudeness.

Loki didn’t even stop to address you. All he did was say casually, “I can’t see why it matters what your name is. We wed tonight at sunset.”

Leaving you alone without anyone for comfort or support, he closed the door behind him.

Four hours later, dressed in the finest Asgardian wedding robes imaginable, your hair done up in the most exquisite hairstyle, a diadem of silver roses crowning your head, you and Loki walked hand-in-hand towards a large, ancient cauldron set aflame, where King Odin, Queen Frigga, Prince Thor, and about fifty other high-ranking Asgardians generals and nobles, lined your path.

During the ceremony, you had to admit that Loki was handsome, even in his neutral, passionless demeanor. His hand, though cold to your touch, was still soft, and it held yours firmly. He recited his vows with elegance, and he even offered you a small smile as he looked into your eyes, both hands in yours, and promised before Asgard to take you for his only wife, and for as long as life endured, he would cherish and honor you as his other half.

You recited the same vows, but when you said them, they fell out of your mouth like you were spitting out stones. Your anxiety (and growing angry) at the thought of spending an eternity with this shell of an attractive man was causing you to waver.

The only point during the ceremony you’d felt any positive emotion was the second-long leap you felt in your chest when you realized, trembling while listening to Odin, Loki was gently running his thumb over the back of your fingers. You liked the feeling of the tender gesture, but soon enough, he dropped your hand for the kiss.

You wanted to run, but knowing your country’s peace was at stake, you went through the marriage ritual, sharing a torch with your groom, casting it into the eternal flame together, then sharing a kiss underneath the billowing smoke.

The kiss was as you expected it to be: cold, quick, and without a hint of emotion behind it.

At the feast afterwards, you couldn’t eat a morsel, especially sitting next to your groom, who also wasn’t touching very much on his plate (though he was swallowing goblets of wine like they were the last in existence). Instead, you decided to try and dance with the revelers, maybe endearing yourself to one of them. You needed an ally in the palace if you were going to suffer a lifetime of marriage with Loki Odinson.

You were a fantastic dancer. You were offered a dance with each of the Warriors Three, and you admitted to yourself that you would take any one of them as a husband over the prince you now had to call ‘husband.’

Loki, of course, never joined you. Instead, you saw him watching you with fixation from his seat at the head of the bridal party’s table as you danced with as many men in the room as you could, just out of spite. Even Thor offered his hand (though for his strength and elegance on the battlefield the man proved to have two left feet on a dance floor).

You both had gotten so intoxicated in order to cope with the day’s events, that you went to separate chambers that night and did not sleep with one another. You didn’t care. In fact, it was preferred.

Thus, on your wedding night, you remained a virgin, and fully intended to remain so. You were sure your new mate felt similarly.

It was a great start to a lifetime partnership.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Six months went by, and you were all the talk among the maids.

“The Princess and Prince still haven’t done it yet!” “Silly Vanir probably doesn’t know what she’s doing.” “Good thing Loki is the spare, because no heirs will be coming out of his vessel.” “Then let’s hope Thor is successfully in a match one day soon.”

You cried yourself to sleep nearly every night.

The few attempts you made to get to know your husband nearly always failed, although you did learn much about him. He would summon you like a Lady in Waiting to his library, asking you questions akin to ones for a job interview. Then, he would make a vain attempt to touch you, which you always shrunk back from. Most of the time, this would make Loki storm away angrily.

This was always the part where you felt your pussy twitch. Watching Loki angrily leave a room was kind of hot. Then you’d return to your apartments and furiously masturbate to get rid of the lust Loki left you with. It irritated you to no end that you somehow found your husband both repulsive, and incredibly attractive. Still, it wasn’t as if you could let him KNOW that. He clearly held no touch for you and was just fulfilling his duty to the throne. Hell, he probably had spent each of the past nights since your ceremony in bed with some whore scullery maid.

For your part, you decided to do the same and follow your own duty. One thing you had in common with the God of Mischief was your shared dedication to peace between your realms. Thus, you attempted to broker peace with Loki, and you rebuffed one another, as was the standard by now. Today was one of those days, and the pair of you followed your failed post-marital courtship ritual to a T.

“My bride, you know we will need to fuck eventually,” he said coldly to you, sitting in a large armchair and taking a sip of tea.

“How eloquently put to your wife,” you replied with the same indifference. “To have and to hold, indeed.”

“I mean it,” he continued. “I’m starting to get admonished by Father. It’s looking like Thor isn’t interested in a mate just yet, and Odin wants at least one grandchild.”

You sighed. “It’s not like you’ve been trying either. Is there any alternative at all?”

Loki looked at you with a face that almost hinted at hurt. “Alternative?”

You shrugged and set your own tea cup down on the table between you. “I think we both know by now that we can’t stand to look at each other fully-clothed. I can’t image the cringing if we got naked in front of one another. There won’t ever be a child from us.”

Loki pouted a moment, crossing his leg subtly. “Tell me, Princess Y/N,” he responded calmly, “What have I done to offend you so?”

What have I done? You thought to yourself. What have I--!??

“The audacity of you,” you found yourself spilling, your filters of propriety completely gone, “Clearly blaming me for our lack of chemistry when it was YOU who made it abundantly clear from the moment that we met that you had no interest in my happiness.”

Loki’s shoulders dropped, but even his silver tongue couldn’t get a word in.

“You are a cold, heartless lout,” you stood up, sending your head into a hot, dizzy haze. “You never tried to woo me, or to make me feel welcome in this strange new country that I was forced to come to and give my life to against my will. Did that never occur to you? Did it never once cross your mind that I NEED SOMEONE?”

You felt your body grow hot, but the hits kept coming as Loki watched you, a look of surprise and concern painted over his face.

“No, because you don’t care about anyone but yourself. You are a terrible man and an even worse husband. I’m thankful we will never have a baby together, because you’d be the worst father in the Nine Realms! You have no sense of nurturing, affection, or love for others. I hate you, Loki, for trapping me here only to shove me in a gilded closet and leaving me to rot in my complete loneliness!”

Loki stood up in response, looking more offended than ever. “You expect us, a pair in marriage out of obligation to the survival of our countries, to love one another?”

“I never asked you to love me. I just want to be treated like a person and a wife instead of an empty vessel for you to fill and ignore. Unfortunate for you, my husband and my love, you caught a bride who speaks for herself. I am a Vanir, and we are strong on our own terms. I’m not a simpering bitch like any of your past conquests.” You sneered and tried to remain dominant, even when looking at his harsh face. “Do you really find me so repulsive? Or are you just hiding a tiny, useless prick that you’re embarrassed to show me?”

Loki growled and sauntered up to you, leaving no room between your chests. You could feel his hot, agitated breath hit your neck, and you couldn’t help but look defiantly up into his eyes.

“You should have sent me home and married one of your mindless whores instead,” you snapped. “Then at least you’d get your stupid little heir and please your father.”

“How dare you suggest I am ill-equipped?” he whispered in your ear, causing you to tremble a little. “I am famous with my contemporaries for my skills in the bedchamber, and you will soon learn how hard I can fuck whoever I wish.”

You were beginning to get a headache, and your ears were buzzing with panic in spite of your heat starting to get wet with the tension building between you, like a storm cloud about to explode with rain and lightning.

“I’d rather shove a broomstick up within me,” you sneered through your increasingly uncomfortable symptoms. What was going on?

“Listen, Princess,” Loki spat out, taking a hand, slipping it under your chin, and tilting your head up to meet his gaze, your noses nearly touching. “Tonight, after supper, expect a knock on your door. I am going to end this situation once and for all, and you will conceive my child, I promise you, with the added bonus of knowing how well I pleasure my partner.”

“I…uh…oh…damn…” you began stuttering as the world began spinning around you. “Why is the room moving?” you mumbled.

“Y/N?” Loki asked, his voice softening at your symptoms becoming evident. “Are you feeling well?”

You could have sworn you felt a soft, sympathetic hand caress your cheek before the sensation of falling and entering darkness overwhelmed you, stealing your senses and taking you away from consciousness.

“Y/N? Can you hear me? Guards, I need help!” Loki’s genuinely frightened hollering was the last sound you heard.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

That night, you slipped in and out of consciousness as a fever raged.

One time when you were semi-awake (though no one seemed to notice your fluttering eyes) was when a healer was examining you. You could barely make out their poking, prodding, and touching. All you knew is that you were in a bed and tucked in, and that you had a raging headache, a sweating fever, and enough pain raging through you to stagger a horse.

“She’s from Vanaheim, remember, so her body isn’t yet used to the viruses we have here,” said the healer.

“Will she survive? Recover fully?” The low voice was Loki’s.

“It’s a pretty severe case, I’ll admit, my Prince,” the healer confessed. “She’ll need constant care for the next twelve-to-eighteen hours. If her fever breaks by then, she will be fine. If not, summon me. We may need to remove her from Asgard.”

“Remove? But I just married her,” Loki moaned.

“If you’ll pardon the honesty, Your Highness, it doesn’t really feel like you married her at all,” the healer suggested. “You still have separate apartments, and after all, I thought I would be examining her for signs of pregnancy by now.”

“You’re fortunate that your physician’s skills are the best in the realm, or I’d hang you myself for your comments!” Loki muttered.

“Apologies, Highness,” the healer quickly backtracked. “I’ll be back intermittently throughout the evening. Shall I summon her maids to watch her?”

“Those incompetent quims?” Loki scoffed. “Absolutely not. My wife would be dead within the hour if any of those silly birds were charged with her care.”

“I cannot stay, even for a Prince,” the healer replied. “Others do need my services.”

“Idiot, I’m staying at her side myself,” Loki declared, going over to his bed and perching himself on the edge besides your still body.

“Very well,” agreed the healer. “As I said, summon me if things change for the worse, my Prince.”

You heard a door close nearby as the healer took their leave. You felt the sensation of a cool cloth being pressed to your cheek, and you were able to let out a small sigh of relief before falling under again.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Loki was true to his word. He never left your side for the entire night, and the day that followed. You fever increased some time after midnight, throwing you into a delirium while your husband watched, gently pressing cold towels to your face, and intermittently reading out loud to you in the hopes that you’d come to.

Choosing a fantasy book from his youth to read to you, Loki found himself getting in to the performance after a while. “For when the Goddess Idunn saw her beloved Tree of the Golden Apples, they were gone…”

“Husband…Loki…” you mumbled in your delirium.

Loki stopped reading and bent down to hear you better. “My Princess?”

“Just…just touch me once…want you…”

Loki felt his heart skip a beat, watching your beautiful form lying like Sleeping Beauty across his bed, which was stunning in spite of your illness. He wondered if he whispered in your ear how he’d truly felt towards you for the past half year, it would count as admitting his secret love, and he wouldn’t have to do it to your face later.

Loki did, in fact, have wild feelings for you, and not a night went by that he didn’t go into his room after seeing you and fucking his hand until he uncontrollably shook. However, he was raised with a fearful sense of duty, and he felt that in treating this marriage like a simple task to fulfill at the office, he would serve his purpose better than were he a hopeless dope, blind with lust for you.

After all, it was an arranged marriage. What the hell did he know about relationships?

The people of Vanaheim were the only creatures in the realms said to be more beautiful than Asgardians, and the moment he’d seen you on your wedding day, he felt helpless, down for the count and drowning in your glow. Knowing, however, that he had certain expectations, he’d felt it would benefit the two of you to keep things ‘proper.’ He was a notorious pro at that.

He also wasn’t sure he wanted children so soon after marrying. It was bad enough that his lack of experience as a husband was leading to a terrible match, and everyone knew it. Half-heartedly leaving you pregnant would only complicate this already-complicated pairing. His roleplaying as a cold, uninterested spouse had helped keep his worries about that at bay.

“Loki…we can have a baby…”

Loki perked up, setting the book aside and gently ran a finger down your hot, red cheek. He leaned down and whispered in your ear. “You want a baby, dear?”

“Afraid…of…you…hate me…”

“No,” he cooed, brushing a lose tendril of hair that was plastered to your face with sweat up and tucking it behind your ear. “I see what’s happened,” he said quietly, more to himself than to you. “We are both misguided youths who have no idea how to be married.”

“Alone…always alone…”

“Never again will you be alone,” Loki promised, giving you a tender kiss on the cheek. “That should have been among my wedding vows. I have been treating you abysmally, Princess, and I will remedy that when you are well.”

Loki looked at you as your delirium sent you back into sleep. He took your hand between his and began singing an Asgardian lullaby that he’d been fond of from his childhood, the gentle melody just loud enough to reach your ear. His voice was certainly not as sweet or on-pitch as his mother’s, but he knew you heard it and liked it, for in your slumber, you smiled.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

You awoke the following afternoon, feeling nearly completely revitalized. Looking around you, the bed was unfamiliar, and as soon as you saw Loki sitting in a wooden chair by your bedside, a book open in his lap, his head in his hand, snoozing, and you felt your heart race.

Loki wasn’t the type to do anything to you in your sleep, was he?

“L…Loki?” you called out, your voice weak but steady.

Your husband immediately stirred, slowly coming to and sighing in what sounded like relief when he saw you starting to sit up. He put a hand on your shoulder, trying to get you to lie back down. “Don’t get up. You’ve had a raging fever for nearly a day.”

“I feel fine,” you said stoically. “Let me sit up.”

“Very well, but you’re going to try and drink something if you do,” he answered. “I have some pomegranate juice on the table here.”

It was as if you fell asleep and woke up in an alternate timeline, where the Loki you married wasn’t a complete twat. He looked as if he’d been up all night at your side, his face was tired, his hair was unkempt and partially hung in his face. His face was the biggest difference. Instead of the usual neutral-to-annoyed look, he appeared to be concerned, almost fearful for your health. Taking a tall glass with deep red liquid, Loki pressed it into your hand.

“Drink. I mean it,” he said.

You pouted and shook your head. “Is it poisoned?” you quipped.

Loki rolled his eyes. “I suppose I earned that, but on my honor as a Prince of Asgard and son of Odin, it’s safe to drink.”

Looking at the glass for a moment, you decided to Take the risk. The tart liquid was cool and delicious, and you found yourself taking more than a sip. “There’s a good girl,” he said softly, taking the glass from you. “We can try some food later, if you’re feeling up to the task.”

“Loki, what is this?” you asked. “Why am I in your bed instead of mine? Where are the maids?”

Loki pursed his lips, considering the right and wrong words to say. “You were violently ill last night. I kept you here so I could nurse you myself. The maid are silly little gossips, I wouldn’t trust them to take care of a rosebush.”

“Why?” you asked. “You hate me.”

Loki sighed. “If I hated you, I would not have agreed to marry you.”

“You had no choice,” you replied.

“That isn’t true,” Loki confessed. “You were sent to me on the appointed day, yes, but Father promised me that if I refused you, he would acquiesce to allowing me to go to Vanaheim to find a bride for myself. You were the most sensible first choice, but when I first met you, you became the only choice for me.”

You weren’t sure what to do with this information. “But you didn’t even know my name, nor did you bother to ask. You were so underwhelmed by me.”

“Let me admit something personal to you, and seeing as you are my life partner now, I suppose it’s only right that I get used to doing so,” he began, then paused, waiting for your consent to continue. You silently gave it. “I feared our wedding day very much. I never saw myself entering a forced marriage with anyone, and seeing you standing there, your radiant beauty shining across the room…it stirred me the way I used to be aroused by the scullery maids who would flirt with me in the hopes that I’d let them visit my bed.”

“Aroused? You were aroused when we met? Even when you spoke two words in my general direction then turned away?”

Loki nodded. “You are stunning, Y/N. I turned myself off around you because I thought you resented me for being the reason you were brought over in the first place. I didn’t want to expose myself as a weak person and a moody, emotional husband so as to scare you even further.”

You knew in a heartbeat that you were not being lied to, and that Loki was exposing himself to you in this moment, making himself vulnerable to you.

“Feelings aren’t really your first language, are they?” you asked.

Loki nodded. “No. Comes with the whole ‘Prince of the Realm’ thing, unfortunately. You should see Thor try to explain away when he sobs watching a play.”

You remained quiet a moment, choosing to take another sip of juice, which pleased your spouse. “So, you’re saying that you were so afraid of falling in love with your wife that you left me a virgin bride for six months, confused and alone, wondering if I may as well try and run away back to Vanaheim?”

Loki found himself smiling, but trying to hide it. “It does sound ridiculous, now that I think about it.”

“It’s tragic, because those are now six wasted months. Just think of what we could have been doing this whole time,” you mused.

Loki cocked his head to the side inquisitively. “Wasted months?”

“Loki, while your incredibly misguided attitude didn’t help our relationship, you have no idea how sexy I find you, do you?”

He sat up straighter in his chair. “Do you now? Can’t say that should surprise me!” You giggled, and the laughter made him smile wider. “Your laugh…it’s musical.”

“Thank you, husband of mine. It’s the first time you’ve ever heard it since we married!”

Loki replied with a chuckle of his own.

“I want to love you, Loki,” you confessed. “I want to be your best friend, the mother of your children, and your lifelong companion…if you’ll have me.”

Loki got up from his chair to sit next to you on the bed. You leaned back against your pillow and fluttered your eyelashes, reaching out a hand to Loki, bidding him to kiss you.

“I want to love you as well, my princess bride,” he answered, leaning down and planting a chaste kiss on your forehead. “And so, I shall.”

“You missed,” you quickly added, pulling on the collar of Loki’s tunic and pulling his lips down to yours. You wouldn’t let him come up for breath, thrusting your tongue desperately into his mouth. However, Loki was stronger than you, so he pulled back after a moment.

“Not now, love,” he whispered. “You’re still recovering. I will exhaust you.”

“Loki, listen to me,” you began. “I feel fine. I’ve been a virgin for six months longer than I expected to be, while having to look at your beautiful form every day, knowing that you didn’t want my body. You just told me that you do want my body, and I want yours. Can we not put this off any longer?”

Loki’s lip twitched. “Ah yes, I almost forgot you’ve yet to know carnal pleasure. Such a desperate virgin!”

You shrugged. “The males of Vanaheim are boys, really. I never had any interest before, but after years of the sexual energy building up inside…it’s ready to happen.”

“So, I will be your first.”

“And only,” you added, running a hand along Loki’s cheek and pulling his face in for another kiss. Loki responded in kind, and his cool hand felt incredible against your cheeks, still a little hot from the receding illness.

“Tell me, my bride, are you nervous?”

“A little,” you admitted. “Especially seeing as it’s you. With your reputation, I’m not even sure you know how to bed a first-timer.”

Loki nodded. “I suppose that’s fair. My reputation precedes me. But I assure you, I can be a tender lover. I want you to tell me if I hurt you, okay?”

“Yes, Loki,” you purred.

“Oh, Y/N, please use my name again!”

“Loki, my husband…”

Loki let his vessel fall over top of yours, his lips meeting your mouth again, his hands beginning to wander about your neck and upper body. You almost immediately lost yourself in his arms, letting him dictate your pace and feeling the beginnings of arousal between your legs as his hands slipped under your shirt, finding your breasts and gently beginning to flick at your buds there. The little twinges were enough to send you into a fit of need, and you let your lower back slip under the covers, taking you from sitting against the headboard, to sliding directly underneath Loki’s body, lying supine under him.

“Are you that ready?” he asked. “I’ve barely begun!”

His wandering hands were firm, and every inch of flesh they touched brought sensations to you that you had never known, but were nothing short of astounding.

“Would you like me to talk you through this? Would it set you at ease?” Loki asked. “It helps you relax, and relaxing will make it feel better.”

“No, I don’t want that,” you whispered. “Feel me, I think I’m already ahead of you…”

You took his right hand and guided it downward, sitting his fingers against your clit, using your index finger to lead his in a thorough investigation of your folds. You were already soaked with arousal, and as soon as Loki felt it too, he grinned.

“Norns, Y/N, you’re already ready for my cock, how fair is that to me?” Loki sighed, keeping his hand where it was, but beginning to ever-so-lightly trace circles around your opening, sending you into a frenzy of need. “I was going to play with your pussy for hours first, to make up for those lost months…”

He lightly touched your shoulder, and your clothes melted away to nothing, and your naked body was pinned underneath him. “By the eyes of Freyja, you are a goddess to look upon!”

With a snap of his fingers, Loki’s own clothes faded away, and you were finally looking at your husband in the buff.

“In all the Nine Realms, I could never imagine a stud such as you would be having me,” you mumbled poetically, inspired by his warm, naked flesh pressed against your tits.

“Y/N, did you mean what you said about being the mother of my heirs?” he asked.

“Oh yes, my husband,” you groaned as Loki continued to grind against your crotch, his hardness pressing on your heat, but not going beyond the outer lips. Each thrust drew a moan from you, and each time you made a sound, it only seemed to add to Loki’s vigor. “I am ready to be filled by you. Please go inside me!”

Loki grinned with desire. “Good girl, but we’re not there yet. I want to tell you about what you have to look forward to first. You’re going to listen to me while I sit on your hips and tell you about how much I’m going to cum inside you, and how much you’re going to love breeding my children.”

You felt a low, steady moan escape your lips. Loki uttered a gentle “shh” and placed a single finger with his free hand on your lips. “I know you want me, princess, but you’re going to have to wait until I finish my speech before we make a baby, okay?”

You nodded meekly under his finger.

“Good girl.”

Without warning, he pushed two fingers against your clit, sending throbs of pleasure up your passage, and you had to bite your lip in order to stifle all of the sounds you wanted to make.

“My pet, you have no idea what you’re in store for. I’m about to fill you full of my seed, which you will take into you and use to spin our children into existence. You’ll cry out for me in ecstasy as your walls milk me for every drop of hot cum, and after I am through filling you to the brim, it will only be a matter of time before the life begins to take hold in your body, and you’ll begin to grow. How eager I am to watch your breasts grow heavy and drip with milk for our future little princess or prince to drink!”

Still fighting your urge to cry out your lover’s name, instead you let Loki’s passionate words crash over you like a wave, and you finally felt you relax your walls, ready to receive his cock.

“Norns, I can already see your belly round as you walk at my side through the halls, every man with an eye for the female form losing control at the sight of you, but knowing that you are mine and mine alone, and that I put our baby inside you. They will sigh with jealousy as we walk by, watching your tits bounce underneath your robes. They will know that I’ve fucked you, my princess, over and over.”

Loki’s cock teased your cunt more and more, and you were being to ache with desperation, your passage feeling hollow, longing to be filled with either Loki’s dick, or his fingers, which were still fiddling with your clit and sending lighting up your core.

“And after you bring our firstborn into the world, I will be ready to impregnate you all over again. We will have such a large family, our children running everywhere…but always one growing inside of you: a testament to how much I’ve claimed your pussy…”

“Breed me, Loki! I’m ready!” you finally cried out.

Loki took his fingers away from your folds and lowered his hips, the tip of his member on the threshold of your dripping cunt, driving your senses into needy, pathetic desire as you tried to thrust against Loki’s hips enough to coax it inside.

“You’re ready to take my cock, pet?” Loki whispered, looking down at you with both authority and need. “You’re a needy little virgin princess about to get her first fucking…I wish I could savor this for days.”

“No, now…please, I need to feel you inside me…”

Loki nodded, taking a breast in each hand and using both thumbs to pay with your tender nipples. “Then, my lustful, beautiful bride, I am yours.”

Slowly, Loki guided his cock into your opening. You felt a pinch and some pressure, but you were so flooded with arousal that it slipped in with relative ease, causing your walls to stretch to fit his shaft. You grunted as Loki buried himself to the hilt within you, and he remained still a moment. “Have I hurt you?” he asked.

You quickly shook your head. “Don’t stop! Breed me, please!”

Loki replied, “Yes, my princess!”

With each thrust, you saw stars as heat rippled up your core and began building in your hips and back like water being dammed in a river, eager for release. His rhythm picked up tempo, and the heat kept rolling down your abdomen. Loki’s own moaned joined yours, no longer caring about being quiet.

“Do you want my baby now?” Loki grunted.

“I want your baby, Loki, my husband!” you answered.

Loki’s thrusts became harder and more violent, and you were starting to feel a little more pain as he built towards a climax with you. “Oh, cum for my, my wife,” Loki purred. “Together…”

Your orgasm thundered down your pussy, throbbing waves of pleasure, and sending tremors down your legs. You moaned so loudly that it sent Loki to his fall, his cock pounding hard, sliding up and down your slick walls and spurting hot, dripping cum up and inside you. You could feel it when he poured his seed.

While lingering within you, Loki bent over your body, smoothly running his hands up your abdomen, breasts, and neck before giving you the deepest, most intensely passionate kiss of your life. It was the kind of kiss that had to have love behind it.

“How are you feeling?” he asked softly, lowering his sweating frame on top of yours and nesting his chin between your breasts.

“Like a wife,” you replied, taking a hand and running your fingers through his soft, long black hair. “Loki, that was…I mean…I couldn’t imagine any better.”

Loki looked at you warmly. “You’re welcome.” Looking up at the ceiling while stroking his hair, you felt peaceful, and, for the first time since arriving in Asgard, not alone.

“Do you think we did it?” you asked.

“It would be hard to say for a few weeks,” said Loki. “But wouldn’t it be wonderful if we made a baby on the first go?”

“We waited for this long enough,” you added. “At least those silly maids won’t be able to gossip about me anymore!”

[maries-gallery]

This is my entrance to @aquagirl1978 and @violettduchess Summer event! With strawberry and sundress <3

genre: fluff, mentions of romance between Yves, Licht and the MC

warnings: none

wc: 900

suitor: Yves Kloss

“So many strawberries!” You exclaim, a hand over your eyes to cover you from the bright sun above. Before you, strawberry bushes spread so far they kiss the sky on the horizon. The gentle summer breeze caressing your cheeks and bringing in the scent of fresh ripe fruits ready to be picked. 

Above you the sky hangs in a vibrant blue, reflecting the colour of your lover’s eyes. Cotton clouds float like lost ships in a sea of their own. You want to stretch your hand out and touch them, see if they are made of cotton candy and if they taste like it too. Sweet and light on your tongue. 

Yves stands beside you, beautiful and elegant as ever. And you’d think the empty basket in his hands to be out of place if it wasn’t for your knowledge of his penchant for baking and sweets. Of course it’d be one of Yves’s annual rituals to go strawberry picking. 

“Don’t tell me it’s the first time you go to a strawberry farm.” Yves says, eyes wide as he turns to you. “These are the best strawberries in all of Rhodolite! Gods, these are the best strawberries, period.”

You chuckle, turning to him “I know!” You adjust the empty basket in your hands, “I just never had the opportunity to see it with my own eyes. It is very impressive. I feel like I somehow landed in a fairy book.” 

Your gaze flees back to the lands in front of you, smiles curving in a gentle smile as a veil of joyful wander falls over your eyes. And Yves’s heart leaps in his chest, engulfed by a comfortable warmth that spreads wings in his ribcage. His own features softening as he observes you with loving eyes. He had never seen things this way. 

But now that you point it out this place does look magical, a patch of happiness out of town, nothing but the sweet scent of fruits and all the space in the world to dream and get lost in fantasies of your own. 

Although to Yves, the most magical thing of all in this moment remains you. A sight for sore eyes with your cute straw hat, red gingham ribbons in your hair and a white lace sundress that hugs your waist and flows freely in the wind. 

Yves’s eyes get lost in admiring you. The way the Sun’s golden light falls just fine on your features, highlighting the natural glow of your skin, eyes full of life and genuine joy as you gaze at the land of possibilities ahead of you. 

And for a moment he forgets how to breathe, air trapped in his lungs as blood runs to his cheeks. He cannot let himself be distracted by you yet again. The two of you had come here for a reason and Yves had little time ahead of him if he wanted to be able to use these strawberries this afternoon. Just in time for your garden tea party with Licht. 

He clears his throat, facing away from you.

“Well now you do. But we didn’t come here to daydream. So I count on you to fill this basket with as many strawberries as you can.” 

Indeed, the reason Yves had brought you here with him wasn’t for mere sight seeing, although the view took your breath away. 

Your prince had been looking forward to the strawberry season. His occasion to test out plenty of new recipes and prepare his very favourite pastries. Ones he ached to bake and enjoy with you and his brothers. 

A gentle smile spread on his lips at the very thought. He’d spend his afternoon in the kitchen, preparing the dough and chopping strawberries, whipping the cream in a bowl, getting the prettiest porcelain plates the kitchen’s castle had along with the porcelain cups to go with it. It’d be the perfect pastry for your garden party with Licht. 

Strawberry cream stuffed croissants reminded him of you. Sweet and comforting, yet fresh on a hot summer day, light and out of the ordinary, something that steers him away from mundane strawberry tartelettes. And his favourite thing in the world. 

“Okay then! Shall we get going?” You say with a beam that rivals the Sun in the sky. “The one who brings back the most strawberries wins!” 

“Wait what-!” Yves’s hand reaches out for you, too late to catch you as you run down the set of stairs towards the first bush of red fruits, holding onto the straw hat on your head. You’re like the wind.

A part of him wants to pout, but another bigger part of him joins in the fun and runs after you, carefree laughs rising in the air as the two of you get to it. 

You spend hours in these fields, strawberry picking and laughing, forgetting about the world outside. Until your baskets are full and it is time to go home so Yves can get to the kitchen and start baking. 

“Strawberry cream stuffed… Croissants?” Licht eyes the delicacy in his plate, the three of you sitting in the gardens, surrounded by blooming roses and busy bees. 

Your mouth waters at the sight, simple cream in a light croissant topped with fresh cut strawberries and white edible flowers. Yves had outdone himself, much like always. 

“You’ll love them, Licht!” Yves beams at his brother. 

Licht turns to you, eyes boring into yours, “Do you like them, Belle?” 

And Yves smiles at the sight, happiness swelling in his chest as you take a bite and the biggest smile spreads on your lips. Enough for Licht to take a bite of it himself. Features softening as he swallows and goes for another piece. 

That is why baking was so worth it to Yves. To bring the people he loves most closer. 

taglist: @aquagirl1978 @randonauticrap @pockcock @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @ikemen-writer @ikesimp100 @violettduchess @scrumptiousfirepanda @skoetiepoetie @myonlyjin @ominousjangling @coverednstars @o0aj0o @rosyangel95 @dear-mrs-otome @scorchieart Hopefully fellow Yves lovers don't mind me tagging them!

[voraciousvore]

Giganterra (Chapter 12)

Prologue/ TOC | Previous (11) | Next (13)

Content Warning: NSFW/ 18+!! Giantess sex scene involving 3 tiny men, 1 willing and 2 unwilling

Word Count: 2.3k

------ Chapter 12: Three Men, One Giantess ------

Bianca skipped with joy to her private quarters as she held the three squirming men in her hands. She peeked down at them, giggling to herself. She had waited for this moment for so long, that she could scarcely contain her wild excitement. She was burning with lascivious anticipation. 

She wasn’t the only one either. Cesar was already hard as a rock, rubbing himself against the inner well of her huge, elegant fingers. He had fantasized about this moment for years, and the fact that his desires were finally coming to fruition drove him wild. He didn’t know what she had planned, but he would be willing to do just about anything for the sexy giant woman. He watched her enormous boobs bounce as she moved and nearly creamed right in her hand. He wanted to dive in and bury himself in her cleavage. He wanted to explore every inch of her vast body, hike through the soft mountain ranges and valleys, and spelunk in her caves. 

Bianca entered her boudoir to find one of her father’s manservants setting up the human habitat. “Get out!” she yelled. The servant jumped at her exclamation and darted past her into the hall. “Leave me alone!” she shouted again, to her own maid, before slamming the door and pressing her back to it. She looked down at the men in her hands with wolfish delight, grinning eagerly. Gio and Graham fidgeted with discomfort, while Cesar gazed back with starry eyes. 

The giantess stepped away from the door and tossed the men on her bed, leaping up behind them. They cried out as they flew through the air, only to land on soft satin sheets. Bianca usually had a maid undress her, but she was too impatient and horny to wait, and she wanted privacy, so she strained to take off her burdensome clothes on her own. Her tiny victims attempted to run away as she pulled off her shoes and stockings, but she easily plucked them up and threw them back into the mound of pillows. She chuckled as they scurried and tripped over the folds in the sheets in futility. They were energetic little creatures; she couldn’t wait to feel them wriggling around inside her. 

“Enough of that, now,” she chided as she wormed her way out of her restrictive dress. “There’s no getting away from me.” Her curvy thighs popped through the constrictive fabric and the dress collapsed around her ankles. Cesar’s eyes bugged out of his skull at the glorious display of milky feminine flesh, as immaculate and massive as a perfect goddess. She turned away with a refined motion to retrieve a vial of glowing blue potion from her vanity, giving Cesar an admirable view of her luscious bottom, as juicy as a peach and big enough to easily crush him. He immediately began stripping off his own clothes, unable to wait any longer. 

She climbed up on the bed and loomed over the miniature men, her glossy hair cascading down her shoulders like black waterfalls. She uncorked the vial and dripped a single drop onto each man’s head, gripping her unwilling prey around their heads and chests with her finger and thumb when they tried to resist. 

“Oh God, that’s an anti-digestion serum! She’s going to eat us!” Gio exclaimed in horror. Bianca giggled, trailing a manicured nail over her plump lip. 

“Not quite,” she said in a silky tone, lowering herself down and engulfing the men in her great shadow as she planted her palms on either side of them. The mattress creaked under her tremendous weight. “I just want to make sure I don’t smother you.” Gio and Graham paled, but Cesar heated up even more. 

“Take me, please, babygirl, I’m all yours!” he cried out, throwing up his hands and twirling in his flashy, theatrical way. Bianca bit her lip with a seductive smile, but instead of accepting his offer she grabbed up Graham instead. She wanted to tease him. 

“What? Why? Use that idiot, not me!” Graham squealed. The giantess tore off his clothes with her enormous, strong fingers and nails, stripping him to his bare skin in an instant. She slapped him against her bulging breasts, muffling his screams as she slid him down her long, tall belly teasingly, over her toned abdomen to her playground of pleasure. She was already sopping wet with carnal desire, and he slipped right in with a shrill shriek as she shoved him into her hungry vagina with her fingers. His desperate thrashing in her inner chamber as he struggled to escape stimulated her, making her moan with erotic indulgence. He managed to get his arm and head out briefly, wriggling wildly, before she pushed him back inside. 

Gio dashed across the bed while she was distracted, but she snagged him before he could reach the edge. “Come back here, you little cutie,” she laughed. She brushed him up along the length of her inner thigh, which was moist from her excretions on the upper portion as he approached her drooling pussy.  

“Please don’t,” he begged. “No, no, no, this isn’t right!” Bianca ignored him, coating him in her juices as she rubbed him against her clit and moaned in ecstasy. Cesar crawled forward to be in between her legs and observed the spectacle with rapture. He was showered with flecks of fluid, as potent as an aphrodisiac for him, as the giantess princess towered over him like a colossus. Gio begged to be let go as she masturbated with his whole body like a sex toy, thrusting him in and out several times before stuffing him inside as high up as her fingers could reach. She panted, cheeks flushed and body quivering, as eight tiny limbs violently massaged her vaginal walls. 

She grabbed Cesar next in the throes of pleasure, clearly not caring whether he was a willing participant or not, and began to rub him all over her gigantic breasts. He stroked her sensual flesh with his hands, his own skin and nerves alight with divine enchantment. He kissed and hugged nipples as big around as basketballs, which turned out to be sensitive erogenous zones for the horny giantess. Her moans became deeper and longer. She was clearly enjoying herself, and Cesar was in sublime heaven. 

She slid him sensually down her belly, allowing him to enjoy her soft, supple skin underlaid with slim muscle. Cesar appreciated every fine detail of her gigantic form, every ridge and bend. She lowered him to her garden of earthly delight, her rose petals glistening with dew. Cesar massaged her clit with his hands, making her quiver under his experienced touch. She rubbed him against her sopping genitals, almost smothering him when she smashed him with her huge muscular thighs as she clenched them together out of reflex. Cesar couldn’t hold back his orgasm any longer and blew his load with triumph as the head of his dick rubbed against her labia. 

Bianca hadn’t reached climax yet, however, and Cesar was determined to get her there. He stretched out his arm, sliding down the slippery pink surface coated with his own seed and her fluids, and plunged it as far up her vagina as he could reach. He swished it around to stimulate her, reveling in the sensation of her hot, wet, slick walls that were alive with pulsing movement. To his shock, another hand grabbed his own and pulled him in further, up to his shoulder. The giantess was more than happy to help, stuffing the rest of his nude body up inside with her fingers. 

Cesar found himself blinded with a waterfall of salty, viscous liquid and squished on all sides by powerful muscular contractions. He flailed a bit out of instinct, causing the hot fleshy chamber to compress around him with startling force. He could feel her heartbeat in the walls, rushing over his skin and in his ears. The giantess’s exclamations of sexual gratification thrummed through her body and his in low, rich tones, rising in intensity.  

She had three men struggling inside her now, and she was past the point of no return, rapidly approaching the peak. All those little limbs stroking her insides drove her wild. They were superior to any fingering a giant could do, or any giant dick for that matter. She gasped and flopped on her back on the bed, writhing and vocalizing her fulfillment, until all her rational thought was eclipsed with a cascade of physical rapture. 

She made it to the pinnacle. She let out a loud groan as her vaginal canal crushed around the tiny men. Cesar heard the distinct crack of a bone breaking above his head; Gio shrieked in agonizing pain. In a gush of juices, Bianca squirted them all out like a firehose, and they collapsed in a soggy heap on the bedsheets between her jiggling thighs. They lay there, limp, sore, bruised, and overcome by the whole experience. Gio clutched his forearm, sobbing. His lower arm was bent at an unnatural angle. 

Bianca sighed with contentment and stared up at the ceiling with her eyes shining. She adored her new toys. She had been sexually repressed for so long, and it was lovely to finally have release. As the daughter of the overprotective king, nobody dared to accept her advances, regardless of how aggressively she pursued. She hadn’t experienced coitus in a long time. Her last lover, a dashing giant servant that she met in the castle, had disappeared under suspicious circumstances once her father had learned of their clandestine relationship. She pushed the distasteful thought out of her mind as a dribble of melancholy infected her good mood. She didn’t want to be reminded of the past. 

She sat up and scooped the pile of naked men, saturated with her cum, into her hands. Gio yelped when she moved him. She noticed the irregular bend of his arm and a shadow of concern shrouded her expression. “Are you hurt?” she asked, tilting her head down to get a closer look. 

Gio winced. “My arm... fuck, I think it’s broken...” he whined. She reached a finger toward him for further examination and he flinched, ducking down into the hollow of her giant palm. “Don’t touch me!” 

Bianca frowned, but didn’t push the issue. She wasn’t sure what to do about it: She could call a doctor for him, but she didn’t really want to go through the hassle, and have to awkwardly explain to the doctor the details of how she injured her new pet. She figured he’d probably be fine. She set the small men down in their human habitat, which resembled a fancy dollhouse but with transparent walls for observation. The furniture was elaborately and painstakingly hand-crafted by a giant carpenter skilled in making doll furniture, yet still fully functional for human use. 

“Get yourselves cleaned up. There’s water in the tank,” she informed them impassively, before shutting the lid and striding off to get dressed and cleaned off herself. 

They stared after her in disbelief. “Hey, wait a second! Aren’t you going to get him medical treatment?” Cesar yelled after her. He banged on the glass with his fist to get her attention, with no result except a goopy splotch on the window. As he came down from his high, his mind momentarily cleared of horny thoughts, he was disappointed to find that the sexy giantess didn’t seem to care about their wellbeing at all. “Come back here!” 

“Forget it. She won’t be of any help to us,” Graham grumbled bitterly. “Let me take a look. In my past life, I was a doctor.” He squinted hard to see through the fog of his blurry vision. “Dang it, if only I hadn’t lost my glasses...” He tried to feel Gio’s arm without causing him pain, but the thick mess of milky ooze made his fingers slide uselessly over his skin. 

“We need to clean him up,” Cesar declared. They drew up some water and heated it for a bath. All three of them washed off the filth with relief. Graham examined Gio’s arm and determined he had a fractured radius. They sacrificed one of the chairs, snapping off a wooden leg and ripping a sheet to produce a makeshift splint. Gio stared down at his arm through a mist of tears. 

“This is the worst day of my life,” he bemoaned. “First King Charles betrays me, and now we’ve all been reduced to nothing more than sex toys...” 

“I almost feel like I’d rather go back to prison,” Graham lamented. He strained to look over his surroundings, despite his deplorable vision. He was certain he still had his glasses on right before he’d been shoved into the princess’s pussy, so his glasses were probably stuck up inside her somewhere. He’d never get them back in one piece. He was tired of being a prisoner, with his fate out of his control, and now forced to be a giantess’s sex slave on top of that. The outlook was grim. 

Cesar was conflicted as he witnessed the abject suffering his compatriots. As great as he felt to finally live out his lifelong sexual fantasy, and as much as he enjoyed being dominated by a smoking hot giantess, he didn’t want anyone to get hurt or mistreated in the process. He’d served under the king alongside Gio, so he knew him at least on a professional level, and he hated to see his coworker in pain. Princess Bianca’s callous response disturbed him. He held out hope that maybe it was just a misunderstanding, and she simply failed to realize how serious the injury was. Once she recognized that his arm was really broken, she’d be sure to address the issue... right?  

Chapter 13

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Part 2 of Mortica Reader, but (Love) reacts to her telling him, “(Love), last night you were… unhinged, you were like some desperate, howling demon, you frightened me… do it again”

Bonus

Zerofuku told (Love) on Adam, because he thought (Love) hurt/scared his ‘Mama’ (Zerofuku’s innocence just might’ve lead (Love)’s death at the hands of Adam)

Zerofuku loves his mama (She knows what to do when he enters his Sad/Envy Form) as she’ll coddle him when he’s upset until he feels better by telling him to ‘let it all out’ instead of bottling it up

-One thing that (Love) learned, once you became intimate with him, you were not as gentle in bed as you were during the day, you were like a hellion, scratching at his back in the heat of passion, demanding more and more from him.

-In bed, gone was the elegant and levelheaded Y/N, instead you were a succubus, wanting everything he had to give you and even more, even willing to go as far as taking it yourself if he was unable to do so.

-He couldn’t understand it when you could be up and walking the next day like nothing while he could barely feel his legs, and if he could they were shaking.

-He loved it however, because you would drown him in your passion and your love, doting on him so gently in the afterglow, kissing him softly, whispering gently on how wonderful he was to you. He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

-(Love) looked down at you, seeing you still asleep, your hair creating a halo around you, you were his angel of darkness, beautiful but deadly.

-A soft kiss to your cheek roused you and you smiled gently up at him, “My love~ you were so- so unhinged last night. I’ve never seen you like that before. You were like some desperate, howling demon. How you frightened me~ do it again!”

-Jack- His eyes were wide at your words, describing how he was the night before, behaving totally unlike a gentleman, but your smile drew him in, and he pressed a kiss to your cheek. He made the mistake of getting too close and your arms quickly round around his neck, flipping him over so you straddled his waist, licking your lips like you were starving and he was the meal you were about to eat. He chuckled softly, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek, stroking it with his thumb, “Devour me Y/N~”

-Odin- He chuckled, patting you head gently, stroking down your hair, “Not until I get some food in me and an ice pack on my back. I can barely move it.” you sat up, wrapping your arms around his back and he reached a hand back, cupping your cheek as you pecked his own, agreeing, for now.

-Poseidon- Smirked down at you, you really were insatiable, thanks to some stamina potions he had taken last night, that was the reason he was able to go for so long. Poseidon kissed you slowly, deeply, before pulling away, “I wonder if I can make it so you are unable to walk.” Delight flashed across your eyes, and he moved to stand, going to go get some more potions, “Wait there for me, my queen.” You nodded, awaiting his return.

-Chen Gong- Stammered lightly, his face flushing red, he could barely move, he didn’t even know if he had it in him to do it again so soon! He kissed you deeply, shocking you, before quickly leaping out of bed and tried to run, before his legs gave out, collapsing to the ground. You stood and stalked towards him as he rolled over, looking up at you in panic as you smirked almost evilly, “I love it when they run~”

-Hades- He sent you a smile and bent to peck your cheek, “Not happening until we have breakfast. I need coffee, and maybe some pain killers, you made me blow my back out.” You cooed up at him, tempting him back, but he was firm, pinning you down, ignoring your slight pout, “No- food first Y/N.” he placated you with another kiss, this time on the lips. You suppose you could go for something to eat.

-Loki- Looked at you with fear in his eyes, which delighted you as you were quickly sitting up, crawling over to loom over him, “Wait-wait a minute Y/N! I don’t know if I can even get it up! You sucked me dry last night!” you giggled softly, looking at him like you were a lioness and he was a newborn lamb, “How am I supposed to ignore you when you look at me in such a delicious way my love~” he stammered, panicking as he knew his dick couldn’t handle another thing like last night, not so soon and he was quick to scramble out from under you and ran out the door. You didn’t mind, you liked to chase~

-Beelzebub- Stroked your cheek with his thumb, “Are you sure you’re not a succubus, Y/N? Because you’re putting the ones I know to shame.” You smiled up at him, turning to open your arms to embrace your lover, “I don’t like to lose, especially when it comes to you~” he chuckled and went to bend down before he felt a popping sensation in his lower back that immediately made him freeze. You rubbed heating lotion onto his back moments later as he was scowling, annoyed that he over did it, but did enjoy being pampered by you.

-Buddha- Immediately face planted back into his pillow with a groan before turning to look at you, “It’s gonna fall off if I keep going this hard! You’re insatiable!” you giggled at his dramatic reaction before scooting closer and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him to you so he could use your chest as a pillow, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “I just enjoy my treats, that’s all~” he chuckled softly, hugging you close, wanting to relax a bit more with you.

-Hajun- Was stunned at your drive and insatiable appetite for him but he was instantly grinning down at you, shifting so he was looming over you, a dark look in his eyes, “I’ll give you what you want, temptress. I’ll make it so you can’t walk!” you smirked up at him, like you were challenging him, “Promise?” your sass made something snap in him and he quickly attacked.

-Zerofuku- Gasped as he overheard that (Love) scared you, (Love) had hurt you! Tears quickly filled his eyes, and he ran off to get Adam, knowing that he was like your father and would help save you!! (Love) had to deal with Adam who arrived, pissed off that (Love) put his hands on you and scared Zerofuku while you were doting on your son, hugging him close after he had changed into his Envy form. You didn’t like seeing him in such a way, but you knew what to do, guiding him to let out his emotions, not holding anything inside, taking him outside so he could throw a temper tantrum and let everything out. If you were embarrassed you didn’t let it show as he threw a huge rock into another, “How dare (Love) hurt my mama last night?!” Once he was calmed down and back to normal, and once (Love) was finished getting chewed out by Adam, you prepared tea and cakes for the four of you, talking about going on a walk by the graveyard later as some flowers were in bloom.