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eldrith · 8 days

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˗ˏˋ neglected ˎˊ˗ jacaerys velaryon

jacaerys velaryon x fem!wife!reader words: 7.8k synopsis: being the prince and princess of dragonstone has its troubles. notes: i literally just wrote this in a fever... ohmy gof this is ... im ashamed of this one yall. (ps the amount of times jace says 'love' in this... eugh sorry) & i guess you're not rly a princess but walk with me here ok idc! but thank you to my slut cult for the aid & encouragement. this isn’t edited at all LOL love u xoxo warnings: au - canon-divergent & set after the dance; rhaenyra sits the throne, & all is peaceful. nothing but pure smut this is - PiV, fingering, dirty talk, semi-public sex, slight mentions of exhibitionism, love biting, switch!jace&switch!reader, spitting kink (dont look at me.) size kink, jace smacks reader's ass a bit, multiple positions, slight argument, TEASING, hair pulling, theyre pent up and desperate and in love ok. valyrian is translated at the end (author uses a translator so if its wrong im sorry). feedback is appreciated<3 requests open. masterlist.

THE SCRATCH OF QUILL BITES AT YOUR MIND.

Such a cavernous room - an empty, wanting room - to be unoccupied at this hour. Precariously structured at the base of the stone drum, it is swallowed by the earth surrounding it, warm only from the magma which churns deep below your feet - and you feel warm, too, though you remain in clothing lighter, looser than normal.

It has proven a summer longer than expected; the end of a dance, with your husband’s mother sitting upon throne of steel. The nights short and days long - languid, with the scent of salt, of peace. Days of warmth that drips into the sip of deeproot trees, which pump through rooted veins and spill from the tips of greened leaves, even upon the ashy earth of Dragonstone; rolling over moors and hills in waves of distant languorous heat.

Bits of dust fall from the higher scrolls of histories towering above your head - and you, hair tied back just enough to keep tendrils from obscuring your vision, fingers guiding the quill which scratches against parchment. Your skin has a sheen of sweat; your gown - if it could even be considered such, not much more than a summery slip - sticks to your spine despite the cool air of eve outside the castle’s walls.

Doors to the stairs above creak - the mouth of a dragon, some ancient serpentine form carved along the walkway descending down to you; though you do not look up, even with the echo of footfall down each step.

A focus, rather, on the deft melt of darkened crimson wax, of the sigil you press lightly to it, in hopes of returning sentiments across the Gullet.

There is a book discarded next to you - in some petty breath, you sigh and move your attention to it, feeling the sting of trivial unimportance as you catch a glimpse of dark curls against the candlelight.

Perhaps your husband fancies himself a sneak; he fails to remember you’ve known the sound of his footfalls as well as your own since you were quite young. You do not bother yourself to look up to him, not when the irritation within your veins runs as hot as the dragons which stir low below the rock in the Mont.

“Good evening,” You greet instead - the line of handscript before you is quite gripping, and you barely regret keeping your eyes away from his own.

He of course takes notice of your clipped tone; a step towards you, a sigh tinged with exhaustion.

“You weren’t in your chambers,” Jacaerys observes - his very own tone equally clipped, assuming. Your husband has been plagued by court and duties quite oft recently; and you, quite strung by the demanding nature of your own responsibilities - the exhaustion of diplomacy and liaisons have smelted your spine into a rather straight rod, though your eyes weary with exhaust.

“Ser Bentley told me you’d gone on the ride alone.” Jacaerys observes again in lieu of your silence. “I asked him to deliver my apology - I had to attend the court. It was… unavoidable.”

The pages of parchment, traced with your finger before flipped over. A memory of the muggy evening- sunfall, when Jace had promised to ride alongside you on horseback to the village in the Southern coast of the Island. A quieter ride when alone, for certain. Jacaerys’s weight shifts in your forevision, a tell; he’s tired of your quiet. A sigh from your lips, nodding slowly.

“Aye, he did, and I heard him.” You affirm, rising from the bench, eyeing the book and letter you’d left discarded upon the stone table. “But I did not wish to waste the day in wait for your spare moment.”

At this, he bristles; you see it upon his handsome face, graced with the kiss of candlelight - a self-reproach laced into the clench of jaw when he comes closer to your watchful glower.

He murmurs your name, low. “I regret that I left you alone. I am sorry.”

You nod, “I know you are.”

You sigh, leaning just against the side of the stone table as you wave one hand. “It is past.” You assure your husband, watching his eyes rove over your figure, fleeting in the faint flickering of night.

He knows you, just as well as you know him; and his arms cross over the hilt at his side, empty of the sheath nor regular sword he oft carries. His brows are drawn low. “I would have accompanied you if I could.” He, with a lick of defense upon his tongue - an addition, his eyes moving from your own to stare across the way, at the shelves of books: “This is never what I wish to happen.”

And something about it; perhaps the heat, the exhaustion, how you miss your husband - it drives you to exhale sharply, a bitter laugh escaping your lips.

“-And yet, it is what happens.” You cross your arms, tone sharper than intended. “Court. Council. The men who cling to you with their endless needs - small as they might be - they always come first.” It is your futile attempt to sound indifferent, though there is a bitterness that falls flat upon the air between you and him.

Jacaerys’ eyes narrow as he levels you with a look, exhaling sharply from his nostrils. There is a reflection, there - a molten amber that drips from the torches lit low across the library, from the stagnant air of the history of his ancestral house surrounding you, scribbled in scrolls, bound in tomes.

He sighs, palm running over his face. “It is not by choice, my love. If I could leave them to their own devices, I would - but I have a responsibility, and you of all people should understand that.” He argues, gesturing to the scroll that sits just upon the table, signed and penned for the Queen herself. Your own political role, never brushed to the side by your husband nor you.

Your laugh is short, mirthless. “I do understand.” You acquiesce, nodding, “But it doesn’t mean I have to enjoy being ignored in favor of the court.”

A moment, where his lips purse; a very handsome man he is, you observe with a rush of affection - and it is also true, he works exhaustibly for what he loves. This, you know.

He murmurs your name. “You are second to nothing in this world, or above.”

His words are genuine - his love for you, a devotion; a marriage of strategy and yet grown with love, with care. And for him, from you - the very devoted same. You sigh, nodding gently.

Although, a lingering resentment - not at your husband, for all his kind and valiant efforts to assure you do not feel alone in the weeks past - festers, bubbling in your gut as your hands fall to interlock before your hips in a passive shrug. “I can only assume your precious council kept you with their endless bickering.” The tone is curt in your attempt to stay calm; perhaps a near imperceptible shift in the air along the base of the stone drum as your husband levels you with a rather exasperated stare, jaw tightening.

“They are imbeciles,” he agrees - clearly on edge, “Arguing over things that should’ve been decided moons ago. I waste hours, listening to men who wouldn't know sense if it struck them.”

The glint of his signet rings catch your stare as lithe fingers run through curls; your eyes track the dark metal as they gleam against faint light.

His voice grows harsher, though you resist the urge to smirk at your husband’s ire.

“-I’ve no choice but to listen, but gods, how they test me.” He mutters, tilting his head back; and the expanse of creamy skin, lit golden in the candleglow; his hair, thick tresses that move when he exhales sharply.

The sight is maddeningly enticing; you huff, glancing away - reminding yourself now is not the time for improper thoughts.

Your own frustration begins to ebb. "Your temper will find you in trouble, husband,” you warn, knowing his words aren’t aimed at you; and the bite in his tone sends a flutter of interest through your stomach.

Maddeningly, his lashes flutter and kiss the breath of skin above his cheeks when his glare sharpens; a flare of irritability, that thing you know hangs over the head of any who bears the weight of impending crown. Heavy is the breath of kings.

“You mustn’t chide me. I know my anger is misplaced," he snaps - your brows raise, unimpressed by his temper.

Yet then, more softly, almost defeated, he shakes his head - an apologetic ring in his gaze. “I apologize, my love. I am not blind to how little time we find."

A heavy sigh as he shifts against the table, thighs spreading as if inviting you between them, should you so choose; and Jace - your Jace, looking upon you with melting eyes.

His touch, - kind, as his hands find your own. “I’m pulled in a hundred directions each morrow,” He murmurs. A squeeze of your palms in his own as you step between his thighs - a weariness seeps into his words. “-But I never intend to leave you… neglected.”

His lips, plump and worried under his teeth; soft, sweet, ripe for your own to find. You hum, eyes stuck on the curve of his upper bow; in the warmth of breath that falls from his regretful lips.

Neglected. It is indeed true, that you’ve been neglected as of late - the moon has well waxed and waned since you last welcomed him between your thighs, and you find yourself aching terribly for him.

No fault of his own, nor yours; the world simply moves in a pace much too quick for your desire - trips to the capitol, holding court for the constituents of the Crownlands; duties plenty as Prince and Princess of Dragonstone.

Your palm cups his jaw; tense shoulders fall at your warm touch. You wish to say many things, but you see the storm brewing behind his gaze, and so you instead hum gently, “I mislike competing with the realm for you,” You admit, the ghost of some rueful smile, echoed in kind by your husband, “We both deserve more than promises of time that never comes.”

There is an ebb to the discontent in his gaze; a melting of memories of whatever foolish lord had suggested new embargoes with the merchant pirates across the Narrow Sea; of whomever held up his time this afternoon so his stew went cold and uneaten just in exchange for a new opportunity for trade crops with the Reach before summer’s end.

You allow your hand to travel over the countenance you love so dearly; valleys and ridges, stern brow that eases with your touch. And in his stare, some ire that melts into a molten craving you indeed echo within your own gaze.

His lips press a gentle kiss to your thumb when it grazes his cheek - in turn, he grasps your hand, tugging the soft skin of inner wrist, pecking it gently.

“I’m trying…” Jacaerys whispers after a heavy pause, “I’m trying to be everywhere I’m needed, but I-” There is a tinge of frustration in his tone that he suppresses with a swallow. “I’m failing you, aren’t I?”

It is with a soft heart you take in the sight of your husband - torn between many mounting responsibilities, the shadows of grief, the whispers of life after the end of so many. Indeed, war is a grotesque masquerade - and it is worsened only by the shadows of its afterglow.

A shake of your head, thumb smoothing over his high cheekbone. “You’re not failing me, Jace.” You whisper, “I know what weighs on you.”

It does not deter his determination to beat himself to the ground at your feet.

“You said it yourself,” his voice, strained, “You miss me -and Gods, I miss you infinitely more. I truly regret that we’re always apart.”

Perhaps he notes the rumbling undercurrent of yearning to your next words, the smoldering churn of magma within your gaze, “Well. I am happy that you are here with me now, Jacaerys.” You inform him, “I have missed you in every way and more.”

Jacaerys exhales heavily; a brow, subtly lifting against a lick of flames over his jaw - and a tenderness there, some mirthful interest at your tone.

“You’ve always been too forgiving,” he decides with a small smile; he is close again, near chest to chest with you when he rises from his perch against the stone table - and how he remains, breath fanning over your forehead.

“And what of my duties to my pretty wife?” He whispers - his eyes search your own; chasms of honeyed desire, spooling around you, wrapping you in a silky web of temptation, of charm.

Warmth in your gut at the timbre, how his voice rolls thick through the quieted silence of the old library. He hums in question, then, a provocation - some light amusement at your sudden silence rendered by the heat of the moment. A knuckle grazes hair away from your neck, his lips lifting at the sight of goosepimples in his wake.

Your heart flutters, the ache of your chest spurning into that known burn of desire. A small grin that you attempt to conceal, relishing how his hand snakes then around the back of your neck, cradling the base of your head.

“What duties would that be, husband?” your voice - breathless, teasing.

The hand not threaded in the roots of your tresses moves to pull you by waist; and a slow, knowing hum, his eyes darkening with intent as his thumb grazes the sensitive skin at the base of your neck.

He leans into your space - breath hot against your ear, and shivers find themselves upon the ridges of your spine. “-Of loving you as you deserve,” His thumb strokes your waist, “Worshipping you. Of making you mine in every way.” His tone, sultry - a tease, your husband can become when he so wishes; breath warm against your ear. The hand on your waist moves, brushing the fabric of your gown with maddening lightness. “-Of showing you just how much I’ve missed you, how much I need you.”

A swell of heat; your eyes, flickering to the eastern end of the large staircase, where heavy doors lie; and your sworn sword and Jacaerys’s own, posted just outside.

Jace watches your every move when your gaze returns; the curl upon his jaw, how you take in his regal shoulders, the slope of his nose, the plush of his lips. His eyes burn into yours. Deep, hungry, intent - your swallow is thick. “Perhaps you should attend to those duties.” You suggest, ignoring your breathless tone.

His gaze darkens in that way that always brings your stomach to flutter. “Here?” You do not miss the excitement laced through his tone at the thought. “-Is that what you desire, my love?” His lips, so very close to your own; hunger spurs you on your toes, pressing up against his warmth.

Some searing need, that pressing and all-consuming desire that climbs from your aching core and begins to choke you with its intoxicating spell. “Yes,” your hands, lithe and gentle, slide up his chest, curling into the fabric of his doublet. “-More than anything.”

He hums, eyes alight with devotion. With a slow, deliberate motion, he tilts your head from the base of your neck up towards his own.

A gentle pull towards him - and your noses, sliding along warm skin, breaths puffing in stuttering need. And after a moment of anticipation, your lips upon his own.

A soft sigh from your mouth into his - and Jace’s warmth, how it bleeds so knowingly into your skin.

His hands cradle your jaw and hip, some hunger, a relief between your joined mouths as those sweetened lips follow your own - slow, purposeful; taste of wine and of those sweet anise cakes he seems to eliminate by the plateful.

An adoring smile from you, teeth clashing just so as Jacaerys takes a step and then several more, coaxing you back, away from the table.

A heady rhythm - your fingers snake to cradle around the base of his throat and shoulder as you stumble backwards, just grazing the bare of his skin above his doublet tenderly as he presses you back.

A groan when you hit the nook of the stone readingsill carved into the wall of the library; propped back against the sill, your thighs part for his own leg to slide between - and a firm press of his body against you. A gasp that falls onto his parted, hungry lips.

The castle above you seems to groan, as if a night storm has rolled in from the bay; distant, there is the roar of a dragon above inky water.

Only a breath as he pulls away, your eyes dark and heavy with hunger. “I’m truly sorry, my love,” he whispers against your lips, hands pressing your hips back against the stone nook. “I swear to you, I’ll not leave you wanting again.” He insists; you believe him.

And when you pull him back to you, fingers upon the base of his neck, you smile. “See that you don’t, husband.” You order; he smirks just ever faintly into your own grin, shaking his head as his lips move to your jaw.

A soft sigh from you, kisses that pepper down your jaw and the sweet column of your throat - gentle as he oft is, you enjoy the fire that seems to grow between you and him; some desperation lingering from the nights spent alone and the frustrations residual in both your minds. A nip of his teeth against the juncture of your neck and collarbone; and his hands, roaming over territory surrendered to him moons ago, fingers catching on the thin fabric of your dress.

Hungry, your own hands fumble to snake around his shoulders, suddenly tugging him against you- Jace stumbles just slightly, chuckling into the skin upon your neck as his hands fall to catch himself upon the stone on either side of your hips.

“Easy, my love.” He murmurs against your flesh, raising goosepimples where his breath fans over you.

You huff, “You’ve made me wait far too long in the last moon, Jacaerys.” You argue breathlessly, flustered as your husband moves to drag at the neckline of your dress with his teeth. “You’re too patient for your own good.” You accuse, though it loses to a sigh as he bites the heated flesh of your breast.

He hums against you once more, pulling you tight against his own hips; a slow roll, a near tease - the length of him, that promise of his own arousal pressed against your desiring heat sends your breath in shutters, shakily exhaling into the library’s air.

He enjoys your reaction very much - a shiver of pleasure through you as he rolls his hips again, slower yet, his eyes watching with increased interest as your lips form a delicate moan.

“I am actively suppressing the desire to disrobe you and take you here, against this very wall,” he groans - a flutter of arousal at his blunt words.

Jace’s fingers slide down your waist, gripping with that possessive fervor you often are reminded of in stolen moments like these; your pulse quickens, core throbbing with hungry need. His next words are pressed into your neck, as if trying to bury them there, “It is less about patience, and more about propriety.”

You huff a short air of amusement through the thrill of butterflies within your stomach, leaning forward into his own space, relishing at the slick of wetness between your thighs.

“Worry not for your manners, Jacaerys.” You whisper, teeth scraping a soft earlobe; his own shudder, a soft groan as your hand snakes lower and lower yet, fumbling with the buckles of his belted sheath. “I’d rather you act upon such desires.” You tilt your head with a hum, “You are the Prince of Dragonstone - are you not? Who’d dare stop you from taking what is yours, within your own castle?”

He groans, a short burst of hot air against your neck as your palm grasps his cock through his trousers - his grip stuttering in the tangled grasp of your tresses. A slight buck of his hips into the cradle of your palm as he lets out a strangled noise.

“Gods,” He nearly groans, “-Let me have you.” He nearly whines, teeth scraping against the heartbeat of your throat.

That coil of arousal has mounted, and you believe you might pass out if he does not take you now. “You needn’t pray to the gods for permission, Jacaerys. Have me.” You murmur - and a gasp when he grasps at your thighs, lifting you just slightly.

You shudder under the touch of his slender fingers, gripping the soft flesh of your backside, pulling yourself to him; and he lifts, then - pushing you onto the ledge, sitting you upon the cold stone before him.

Legs, freed from the skirts of your dress; you pull him by hooked ankle against you, gasping at the immediate press of his cock against your wanting heat.

A shadow dances across the hall above - a gull outside, perhaps, fluttering silkened wings from the moonlight outside; and the far wall, criss-crossed with scrolls towering higher than your eyes strain. A wonder, if either of you would find the will to stop if the shadow weren’t a gull but a human - with a thrill, you come to recognize that it would stop neither of you.

Your husband in front of you, eyes bespeckled with lust and hunger and love. Canting his hips towards your own in a short burst of tease - you let out a startled moan, jolting in pleasure as your arousal stirs - it echoes rather deviously through the empty library, and you have the decency to remember your shame.

There is a mischievous glint in his eyes when he pulls back - a thrill up your spine; “You must be quiet,” he murmurs - a low command, one filled with some delicious lick of urgency. His hands grip your hips tightly and your own palms, grazing over the layers upon his chest and upwards, towards his thick curls. “We mustn’t-”

But he does not finish his thoughts; your fingers, carded through thick, silky tresses, give a playful yank; his head tilts back, and a deep, throaty groan escapes his lips as he shudders in response.

“-Gods,” he groans once more - and his tone, that pleasure, that frustration - you use his momentary distraction to lean in close, your lips brushing against his ear, “Perhaps it’s you we should be worried about.” Your voice is light, pressing a kiss over the goosepimples that have spread across his neck.

Jacaerys’ eyes spark with infatuation. “How I’ve missed you,” He confesses into your open lips, his hands sliding down your leg - tugging until your knee is hooked up above his hip, his palm graces over the bare of your calf, squeezing the muscle which trembles in anticipation.

He lifts by junction of knee, palm moving slow over warm skin revealed to his hungry endeavor; sneaking under your skirts.

Your lashes flutter closed as he kisses you rather deeply - thoroughly - his fingers drag up skirts as they travel, exposing your lower half and allowing the fabric to pool around your waist.

Your teeth nip at his lower lip and you hum, “-And I’ve missed you,” You affirm unto his lips; your hands slip to tug him closer to you by his shoulder blades, he dotingly obliges - lips, breaking from you with a wet string of hunger, his breaths ragged.

They move to travel down the column of your throat, biting softly at the sensitive skin of your neck - you swat his shoulder playfully when his wandering palms squeeze at the junction of your arse and thigh, landing a sound smack upon the rounded flesh.

His searing, cheeky smirk is a most beautiful brand upon your skin.

And perhaps at the reverberation of his smack upon your skin echoing in the empty room - a reminder of your location - he grows deliberate; palms finally grip the back of your thighs and tug your hips abruptly forward on the readingsill.

A thrill of arousal through you at the quick motion, and your husband dips his head - his kisses descend lower, to the hollow of your collarbone.

One of your hands roams to his stomach, the other sliding round his neck as his own fingers dip beneath the fabric of your bodice, pushing it aside just enough to bare more of your skin to his ravenous mouth.

The moment his teeth graze the newly exposed skin, you can’t help the gasp that escapes you, your hand sliding into his hair, tugging sharply once more.

Jacaerys groans against your skin, his hips instinctively bucking against yours as he looks up at you, eyes dark with desire. A teasing grin ghosts across his lips, some ire and amusement only you seem to coax out of your husband.

“-Tug at me like that again, and I’ll forget where we are entirely.” He promises you, fingers sneaking just under the hem of your skirt - and his voice, breathless but with that utter demand - your eyes narrow. As if you and he are both not fully aware of your location?

A challenge, as fingers trembling with heat drag up the bare of your thighs. “-And what exactly does that mean, Jacaerys?” You question him as his fingers continue their ascent, driving you mad with anticipation.

Your voice, echoing in the empty room; doors await at the top of the stairs, ready for near any wandering pair of boots to enter - with an excitement, a thrill, you do not care either way.

Tauntingly, your hands twirl around his curls; and he, with that smug look upon that countenance, blessed by the gods themselves. Jacaerys hums lowly at the flushed tint of your cheeks, and then: His fingers, feather-light, teasing.

You nearly jolt as his touch slides through your molten heat - the tip of a finger gathers your arousal, spreading with a deliberate caress. Your head, weak as you fall back in pleasure, in growing ache and need - and Jacaerys’s palm, cradling the back of your skull to pillow it against the stone behind you.

His breath follows you, whispering into your ear. “It means,” His voice is lower than you’ve heard in many moons - a stirring, haunting hunger within you. “-That I will not hesitate to leave you breathless if you do not cease with your tease.”

Gods, you think, you’ve missed him. “I will cease when you do.” Are instead your words; and with a lift of brow, your husband’s fingers, two dextrous, lithe digits - slide into you, curling just as you keen forward.

It is a stretch you have thoroughly missed; he knows you, he knows the lilt in your breath when he slowly begins to move his fingers, gathering your desire with a swipe of thumb and caressing over your swollen pearl.

“Jace,” You whisper, grip tightening against tresses as you melt into the saccharine feeling of your husband's fingers rocking into you. He hums, “You’re- Gods,” He groans, fingers beginning to pick up their pace, impatient after only a few moments of pressing into your sweet cunt.

Your hands fall as your head tilts against stone; you, mind heated with the desire to hear his own pleasure, feel him inside you, filling you- with a gasp, you let your hands move to his own hips, scrambling for purchase, searching for the fastening upon his belt.

And he, reaching that spot that makes your toes curl; with a whine, you pant out a swear, cheeks heating at the wry grin that falls onto his lips.

Any sly remark dies on your husband’s tongue when your hands finally breach the waist of his trousers; his cock in your palm, achingly hard, throbbing as your hips move against his own hand. Your name is so sweet when it falls from his needing lips; with a kiss, you shush him just gently; his groan falls into you when you begin to move your palm, gathering the leak of desire from him and slicking over his length slowly.

You are close to release already when he lets out a small moan into your ear, “Let me,” He pants, “Please, let me-”

You bite your lip, keening your hips as you nod, “Gods,” You whisper, “Jace, I need you.”

He does not dare wait a moment longer; his fingers leave you before you can find your peak, but it matters not; he’s pulled himself out of his trousers, stroking himself slowly in the dim light of candle and torch.

Your heart slams upon your chest - an angelic view, your husband: Eyes lidded low in desire for you, his lips glistening with your own saliva, cheeks high with flush, the glint of jewelry and riches - a vision of grace and disgrace.

And when he brings himself to your spread thighs, pushing your skirts high enough for you both to get a glimpse of your glistening arousal; how his cock spreads your folds, breaths of need from you and your husband. “Divine,” He murmurs, hand trembling as he guides himself against you - and you, thigh trembling just the same, pulling him by hip flush against you.

And any semblance of poise or grace leaves your mind when he bends just so, spitting; a trail of saliva from his mouth and onto your joint flesh and a jolt from you at so obscene an act, fingers curling against the stone as he shakily groans.

“Jace-” You moan against the pressure of your clit with the tip of his cock; flushed, the two of you shaking in the heat of the library. And then a hand, a warm palm that presses against your panting lips, cupping around your chin.

“Hush, my love,” He murmurs between gentle nips to your neck; a rush of desire warming between your thighs, clenching around nothing as his length spreads your arousal, “You’d not wish for us to be discovered, would you?”

The groan is muffled under his warm skin as he drags over your weeping cunt - a shaky sigh from himself as he moves his hips, finding your pearl. It is near amusing, this game he tries to play; as if the thought of being found was not as riling as your own touch. A small press of your lips to his fingers - a kiss, a nip - and his hand slips away to instead pull your thighs open.

You seize your opportunity as it comes; his lips, parted, eyes churning with pure desire.

“You imply that you are afraid of those who walk your own halls?” You wonder aloud, watching the hunger in his eyes - he’s always craved such teasing as much as you. And a twist of the knife of arousal; you pout your lower lip, watching his gaze track the action darkly.

“You do not wish them to know how you enjoy your time with your wife, Prince Jacaerys?”

A breath from his lips as a hand comes to cup the back of your neck; and his cock, notching upon your entrance. His cheeks are bright red - flustered from your salacious words, from his own debauched, unprincely desire for the entire household to hear him claiming you. The ashamed, hungry look, spurring your arousal further as he presses, breaching your wanting heat with the tip of his length.

You gasp at the sensation, and he growls against your lips. “Fine,” He nearly snaps, tension of desire entwining your spines as you press together, his cock easing into you slowly, agonizingly. “-Let them hear us then, my pretty wife.”

You let out a moan when he presses into you, easing into your squeezing walls; and with a stuttered moan of his own, his face buries into your neck, muttering something in that ancient tongue of his.

And from there, you and your husband are one; he moves into you with slow, deep movements. Your legs hook around him, spine curving with the touch of him, everywhere - ecstasy through you at the deep spot he begins to hit, thrust after slow thrust.

His moans, muffled only into your skin or tresses of hair; and your own gasps, as his fingers fall to tease your clit, a slow circle that drives the simmering pleasure in your gut. The drag of him through you, rocking with your hips; and his mouth, searching for your own in the recess of each moan spilling from honeyed lips.

The noise of you; shared arousal, a lewd echo through the high vaulted walls of stone, and your nails drag over his clothed shoulders - wishing nothing more than to sink your talons into his soft, lovely skin.

His thrusts, not nearly enough to push you over the edge you feel in the distance but enough to bring you to it- with a sigh, you register the knowing lilt in his hips, how he grinds the base of him low and deep, eyes bright when you keen, smirking when he is bottomed out and you are full of your husband.

and then his hips push against you just that much more - a cry of ecstasy at the fullness, then your hands grasping him - a tease, he is.

“Jace, you-“ your voice falters, as his hand, large, has fallen to press upon your lower stomach; and a cacophony of groans as you both feel him within you, palm lightly pressing against your skin as he thrusts slowly.

Your eyes nearly fall back; your voice, cracked with pleasure. “You must stop teasing like this.” Your voice is just as regal as his can be; though he’s found some ire, perhaps an outlet you have welcomed - and he merely hums mercifully at your command.

But his hips slow their roll even more - and you press to the edge of stone to relish the deep drag of his cock through you, his thumb soothing your stomach as his cock brushes the very deepest part of you.

“You’d wish for me to cease?” He hums, the picture of innocence: lips pouty, kiss-bruised; brows knit in his pleasure, eyes thick lidded and syrupy with mounting pleasure. His hair, thick tresses of dark curls, messed by your devoted fingers.

You, in a breath of irritation, unaccustomed to being on the receiving end of such tease. You cant your hips, feeling his own hips falter at the clench of your velvet cunt around him. But your hands, falling to his chest with a gentle push; a challenge in your eyes, stern. Eyes lighting, he hums, pulling away from you - and you bite back a gasp at the feeling of him leaving you empty once more.

Your legs are weak as you slide off the ledge - he dares swat again at the round swell of your behind, coaxing a playful lift of brow to his seraphic visage.

A jut with your chin; a silent direction for him to move - and with a turn, cheeks bright red with eagerness, he heeds your prompting.

Amber eyes dart to the discarded chair beside the table, nearly hopeful - and for a moment, you consider pushing him down upon it, drinking in the sweet moans he gives you; it has indeed been too long since you felt the deep pleasure of climbing atop your husband to take what is yours. Though tonight, this is not what you want.

And so you move, then- cupping his cheeks, hands sliding up from a heaving chest; you snake yourself around him, weaving some ancient enticement on your tongue as you whisper his name, arousal slicking your quivering thighs.

Jace’s eyes blow wide when you turn in his loose grasp; a press of your plump backside to his unclothed arousal, and he groans into your ear. “Love,” his voice, deep, melodic as he follows your lead.

His hand snakes up your spine, pressing you down as he goes - and soon enough you’re guided onto the table, the cool stone pressing against your cheek, the skin of your breasts pinned against dried sheets of parchment.

Jacaerys’ eyes darken further, the meaning of your words igniting something raw within him. “Gods,” he breathes behind you, his voice low and reverent as his hands slide over your hips. “Look at you. You’re beautiful, love.”

You glance over your shoulder, catching the way his eyes drink you in, the tension in his jaw betraying just how much he holds back; though that restraint crumbles quickly as you murmur, “Do not dare to leave me waiting again, Jacaerys.” You chide; his cheeks, red and nearly bashful as he steps forward, his hands gripping your hips with a possessive need.

Hands drag your skirts up and over you once again; Cool air against the slick of your desiring, aching core. He bends, just slightly - and then a whimper from your own throat as you feel your husband’s saliva fall to your cunt once more, his breath hitting your aching need. Your head cranes and your husband takes in the sight of you; transfixed, palms grabbing the flesh of your backside as he watches saliva mingle with the juices of your arousal and the premonitions of his spend. “Dōna ābrazȳrys,” he mutters, eyes flickering then to your own - sweet wife.

You, tired of waiting, press back against him; basking in the moan that leaves his lips as his cock, tip flushed and coated from your previous union, slides once again over you.

“I love you,” His voice, breathless as he leans forward, hand guiding himself through your folds, lips pressing over the peek of skin where the tresses of your hair part; and then, as if he cannot wait a moment longer, he presses into you.

Ecstasy.

“I love you, Jace-” You keen, though your spine curves at the intrusion; A gasp from him as he slides easily into your channel, and heat. Heat, everywhere as the angle allows you to move back against him; Jace, his hand falling to lace with your own upon the stone table, the other gripping tight against the junction of your hip.

His hips, rolling into your backside as he slowly begins to pick up rhythm, lips loose as he mutters words into the sweat of your neck, interrupted only by his own shaky moans and yours.

You coil in desire; a ravenous, hungry appetite that is satiated only by the fill of his cock deep inside you; the sound of skin against skin in the library, a groan from his as you find your strength, moving with his thrusts, gasping at the deep reach of him.

The simmering grows as the roll of his hips does - and, with a press of a kiss to your spine, he leans back; your eyes roll in sheer pleasure as one palm wraps around your leg, tugging you just slightly.

A new angle, where your knee shakily props against the stone table; your toes curl as your husband’s fingers move to your pearl, pressing gentle circles upon your sensitive clit.

“I’m-” A broken moan that echoes in the library, “I’m close-” He whimpers; and you feel him, hips sloppy as he presses deep into you, grinding in the way that has your eyes roll in pleasure. His fingers do not cease- you only hum, nodding against the hair that sticks to your forehead in sweat. A fierce promise that lingers and burns, driving you towards some blinding ecstasy. Your breaths harmonize in the empty air of the library; a glint of candlelight, your shadows pressed together in a heated stone embrace. “As am I,” You admit, hoarse as your fingers fly to grip the edge of the table, his hand digging into the soft flesh of your hips. “H-harder.” You instruct; your husband groans, heeding your wish as his grip on you tightens desperately.

“I love you-” Jacaerys groans, cock pressing just into the part of you that sends you to the edge, “-fuck, ñuha gevie ābra-”

Perhaps spurred by the delicious curl of foreign language upon his tongue, or the delicious depravity of his swear - likely both - you hit your high with a trembling gasp, unable to breathe.

His hips are unruly, staggering; The angle, the reach of him as he moans your name, the clench of your cunt around him. You murmur your professed love for him as you ride through the shaking ecstasy - and chasing, sloppy thrusts as your husband soon meets his own high, your name sung on his lips.

You feel him, his seed warm within you, pressing into your womb with the slow roll of his hips; his chest presses to your spine, lips grazing the shell of your ear as you both ride out your highs, together.

As your breaths begin to steady, Jacaerys lets out a low chuckle; his forehead pressed against your back, heart slamming in his chest.

Hands, still warm from the fervor of your embrace, lazily trace patterns down your back as he moves, cock stirring within you. “Perhaps, my love,” his voice is affectionate, breathless, after few moments of silence. “we should move somewhere with less... ink.”

Brows furrowed and forehead sheened with sweat, you send him a puzzled look - with a sheepish grin, he nods to the corner of the table as he pulls out of you. A gasp in the sensation of loss that is only swallowed by the widening of your eyes; a spilled well of ink, seeping over the finished letter you’d intended to send off to the Queen this evening.

The dark liquid trails in rivulets, small tributaries of black blood, reaching towards you and your beloved as your heartbeats correct, your joint spend gathering between your thighs.

His lips press to your hot cheek - and you can’t help the sly smile that curves your lips. “Is that an invitation to retire to our chambers, then?” You hum - and his hands are gentle as he coaxes you from your previous position, unwilling to separate too far from your heat as his arms circle your waist.

Your hands slide affectionately into his curls; your thighs shake, though his lips find yours in a sweet, gentle kiss.

You pull away to right your dress with a deliberately slow, languid sweep - his lips brush just beneath your ear as you do so, his desperation regaining strength so soon after you’ve finished; a flutter in your stomach at the feeling of his grin against your neck. “-It is, my lovely wife.” He affirms, humming, “I believe there is a bath drawn and waiting, if you’d care to accompany me.”

You roll your eyes, laughing softly; his hands are gentle, smoothing over your hips as he pulls back, amused himself: “No?” He wonders, eyes alight with love. You smile affectionately, shaking your head, “You’d like that far too much, wouldn’t you?" You tease.

Jacaerys lets out a low laugh, his eyes glimmering and playful as he traces lazy patterns along your waist. “I admit, I would... but merely because I know you would too,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over your jawline.

Your smile is bitten; a new hunger, insatiable as you take in the dark beauty of your sweet husband. The tenderness in his gaze has always been too much to resist. “I suppose a bath wouldn’t be so terrible,” you concede with a smirk, “Provided you behave yourself, of course.”

His grin widens as his lips brush over your temple, taking your hand in his tenderly, guiding you towards the staircase.

“I find it remarkable you imply that I am the one who must behave.” You let out a small laugh; in the echo of your footfalls upon the stone, Jace leans in close enough that his breath tickles your skin. “I have to make up for lost time,” an intimate whisper as you near the doors at the top of the stairs, “And tonight, I am yours - and yours alone.”

Your cheeks do not calm their flush in the path back to the royal apartments; neither do your husband’s.

ñuha gevie ābra - my beautiful woman.

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#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jace x reader #jace velaryon smut #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jace smut #jacaerys smut #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys velaryon x reader smut #hotd x reader #hotd smut

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anto-pops · 5 months

Text

Possessive Touch - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: Sebastian has never been the sharing sort. He was happy to loan people notes or quills, maybe even the occasional book from the Restricted Section. But not you. Never you.

Alternatively summarized as Sebastian acting incredibly possessive after watching you hug someone else and then staking his claim on you the only way he can.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, possessive behavior, rough sex, yandere!Sebastian

Locked away in my drafts for months and unearthed by this ask I received. Everyone say thank you anon

Full fic can also be found here on Ao3 (with better tags as usual)

There were a number of words you could use to describe Sebastian Sallow. He was smart, loyal, and daring, to name a few. As brave as any Gryffindor and as insightful as any Ravenclaw, he had many positive attributes that you found to be remarkable. But every coin had two sides, and as much as you admired his more positive attributes, he could also be equally callous, brash, and vindictive when circumstances called for it. His moods fluctuated frequently and gave you whiplash half the time, because more often than not– despite it being accidental– you had a tendency to be the root cause of his emotional turbulence.

You hadn’t meant for your conversation with Ominis to last for so long, much less for it to cut into your allotted study time with your boyfriend. The Gaunt scion had, in a moment of weakness, confided in you about the burdens of his personal life with a kind of desolate demeanor that tugged at your heartstrings and made you genuinely feel bad for him. You had lent him your ear for nearly an hour, and eventually your shoulder as he came to rest his head against it to embrace you in thanks. It was simply you comforting a friend; offering him a brief moment of reprieve from the dreary thoughts that had plagued him for Merlin knew how long before the two of you had gone your separate ways. Nothing more, nothing less.

It had apparently looked like something more to Sebastian, though. He had been watching from the end of the Dark Arts Tower corridor with narrowed eyes, jealousy burning in his veins as he took in the sight of his girlfriend holding his former best friend in a manner he deemed reserved for him and him alone. You didn’t know how much of the exchange he had actually witnessed, but all that mattered was that he had seen the two of you hugging. Wracked with a silent yet palpable fury, Sebastian had dragged you down the steps of the Undercroft before tossing you into the room without a second thought, your protests and justifications falling on deaf ears.

A new word came to mind to describe Sebastian shortly thereafter. One that scared you as much as it excited you.

Possessive.

His fingers had branded you as he’d stripped you bare, pressing and pulling incessantly against your clothes until you were clad in nothing but your undergarments and left shivering under the intensity of his stare. He had stretched you out along the cool stone floor, his hands holding you down without a measure of care while he touched whatever parts of you he could reach. Your breasts were tender and sore by now– no doubt covered with tiny fingertip sized bruises from the sheer strength of his groping. His breathing was heavy and tinged with the occasional grunt when he shifted his hips over yours, the telling bulge in his trousers more than likely causing him discomfort, but he paid it no mind as he took his time focusing on you. An unmistakable wetness had gathered between your legs despite the depravity, and as much as you wanted to clench your knees together to ease the rampant ache there, Sebastian’s own leg between yours prevented you from doing so.

He was toying with you, that much was certain, and he was enjoying every blasted second of it.

In response to your absentminded squirming, Sebastian moved so his knee was nestled directly against your core, the sudden pressure causing you to gasp and arch beneath him. He took advantage of your closer proximity and looped his arm under your back, holding you flush to him with a desperate sort of yearning that made you dizzy, and the way he inhaled your scent before groaning was almost primal.

A choked moan slipped from your lips as Sebastian ducked his head into the crook of your neck to bite and suck fervently, the pain laced pleasure blinding you to his true motives, but not for long. There was no doubt in your hazy mind that he was behaving so brutishly in some attempt to remind you of who you belonged to. Leaving visible marks would only further his intentions, and you found yourself whimpering as you trembled against the floor.

After he bestowed a particularly playful nip against your marked flesh, Sebastian sat back on his haunches to admire his handiwork, taking in the sight of you dazed beneath him. You made quite the pretty picture; skin flushed, hair mussed, and an eclectic assortment of finger shaped lesions decorating your neck, breasts, and thighs. The knowledge that they had been put there by him only appealed to him more, and Sebastian hummed appreciatively at the sight.

You, on the other hand, were coiled tighter than a spring. The Slytherin man had been edging you like this for what seemed like an eternity, but it realistically could only have been half an hour or so. Time was something of an illusion at present, and all you could truly focus on was your ardent need for release. The fiery sensation that stayed stubbornly aflame in your lower stomach was beginning to drive you mad, and you gazed longingly up at Sebastian, who in turn bit his lip at your watery stare.

“Please, Sebastian,” you implored him, voice catching. His hands trailed down your chest and over your pert nipples before eventually settling on either side of your waist. Then with a grip tighter than Devil’s Snare, he tugged you harder against his knee with a wicked smile, forcing a low groan from your throat in response to the friction that he seemed to revel in. “Please.”

“I don’t know what you’re begging for,” he admonished in a low voice. “You’re going to have to be more specific, darling.”

Fuck, he was still upset. That much was obvious to you. It was evident in his tone, in the way his fingers dug sharply into the skin of your lower back– but mostly it was his eyes. The usual spark that danced behind his irises when he was with you was dull, and his gaze was anything but soft. It was hard and unyielding, cold and unfeeling. You were going to have to talk your way out of this one.

Licking your chapped lips, you did your best to still your writhing as you grit through your teeth, “I need you. I can’t take any more of this, please Sebastian.”

Both of his hands left your waist then. One of them braced flat against the floor to support himself while the other curled under your neck, pulling your head off of the ground to press your forehead against his own. The unrelenting pressure against your cunt didn’t lessen as he hunched over you and forced you to stare directly into those dark, greedy eyes of his, and you whimpered pitifully beneath him as he took in the delicious expression you bore. “Is it really me you need, or would any man do, hm? Should I fetch Ominis? Let the two of you continue where you left off earlier? Or maybe you’d prefer Garreth instead– your standards seem to be all over the place, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“N-No–” you stammered around the word when his fist clenched painfully in the hair at the nape of your neck. “Just you– only you– I swear, we were only talking earlier–”

“That’s not what it looked like from where I was standing…” he muttered darkly, releasing your head and letting it thunk back against the floor softly. His hand was akin to molten fire as it trailed along your clavicle before he moved his thumb to lightly brush across your bottom lip. You barely had time to take note of the movement before he dove forward to capture your lips in a heady, domineering kiss that stole your breath from you completely, and all you could do was mewl softly when you felt his tongue sweep along the inside of your mouth. Sebastian groaned into the kiss, cupping the side of your jaw with his hand as he shifted his knee away from your core to give him the space he needed to drop his hips and grind his solid manhood against your thigh. He broke away for a split second to breathe out, “Say it again.”

It was hard to get a word out with how ferociously Sebastian was kissing you, but eventually his mouth trailed wetly to the side of your face to suck another mark into the skin below your ear, and you managed to gasp out, “Just you, Sebastian. There’s only you, I love you.”

The sound of his nails scraping against the stone floor beside your head drew your attention, but before you could roll your head to look, he was sitting up once more with a new sort of emotion glinting in his eyes. Those brown orbs of his were no longer flat or cold and instead appeared to be scalding with blatant lasciviousness, his want for you as potent as Firewhiskey.

Through hooded eyes you watched as Sebastian reached for his belt, the sound of metal and leather coming undone filling you with a kind of urgency that left you biting the inside of your cheek hard enough to draw blood. Finally he would give you what you wanted– what you’d been craving from the moment he stripped you bare and pinned you to the floor. The version of your boyfriend above you hurriedly shoving his pants down his hips was unfamiliar to you; he seemed wholly animalistic, driven forth by some inherent, primitive need to claim you all for himself, and as much as you loathed his inability to rein in his jealousy at times, an equally intrinsic part of you craved his possessiveness.

You were his, and he was yours.

Freed from the confines of his trousers, Sebastian knocked your legs to the side so he had more room to situate himself between them. He slid his knees under your bent legs, caging the limbs under his arms as he ran his calloused palms down the tops of your thighs and the head of his cock slid through the overwhelming wetness that had gathered at your center. The rampant ache in your stomach roared back to life tenfold at the mere feeling of his thick shaft, and you twitched in anticipation while Sebastian fixed his lustful gaze on you.

“That’s right,” he started to slide into your wet heat as he spoke, your mouth falling open around an airy groan at the sensation of being filled. “You’re mine. Everything you have to offer is for me and me alone, don’t you ever forget it.”

Sebastian was stretching you out torturously slow, stuffing every inch of himself into you with a measure of control that went against his earlier behavior. He was utterly transfixed as he watched your chest rise and fall with panted breaths, and when he finally bottomed out with his hips flush to the backs of your thighs, a wanton groan ripped from your throat as your head fell to the side. Your hand shot up to push back against his lower stomach– silently trying to convey that you needed a moment to adjust– but Sebastian merely pulled his hips back and plunged back in, drawing a keen whimper from you that lit a fire in his blood.

Overwhelmed tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to breathe through the sheer size of him breaching you, and you threw your arm over your face to hide the sudden flush you felt heating your cheeks. “S-Sebastian, I can’t– ah–”

His hands slid down your thighs to grip at your waist once again, pulling you impossibly closer to grind against your ass before he began pumping into you steadily. It stole your breath– all of it; the angle, his bruising hold on you, his pulsing cock brushing against the deepest parts of you. It was exquisite agony, and a quivering moan tore from your lips when he leaned forward to spear downward into you, the head of his shaft hitting something that made you jolt against him.

Your arm fell away from your face in that instant, your fingers scrambling for purchase against the stone floor beneath you, to no avail. “F-Fuck, you’re too much– Sebastian!”

With your neck tipped back and your eyes squeezed shut, you felt Sebastian lean forward to brace his elbows on either side of your head before grasping your cheeks in his large hands. He lifted your skull from the ground and held your forehead to his again, prompting you to look at him as he slowed his pace. He continued to drive his hips into yours, but the mind numbing intensity had mercifully lessened.

“You’ll never do this with anyone else,” he said brusquely, his breath fanning across your lips. You could only moan in response, especially when he started to grind against you after each plunge of his cock. “This is all for me– every bit of you was made for me– do you understand?”

The grating moans that had been sounding from you transformed into gentler ones, Sebastian’s wave-like movements with his hips delivering tantalizing friction against your clit that had you melting beneath him. You nodded dumbly, and your boyfriend released your face to sit up so he could better watch as you fell apart under him. With one hand on your waist and the other propping him up, Sebastian held fast to you while he upped his tempo, pistoning his hips into you so fast and rough that the wet sounds coming from where you were connected were all you could hear.

More choked whimpers cascaded from your lips, sounding like an angelic symphony as far as Sebastian was concerned, and he threw his head back as he got lost in the sensation of your velvety walls clamping down on his cock. You could tell he was close based on how ragged his breathing became, and your own looming climax frayed the remaining tethers of your self-restraint. You surrendered completely to him, relishing in the overwhelming fullness of him as well as the scrape of the stone floor against your shoulder blades. Pain faded into pleasure, the cold air of the Undercroft transformed into a blazing inferno, and you swore you had never been so thoroughly fucked in your life.

When Sebastian’s gaze fell back on you, his eyes darkened and he practically snarled as he bent you clean in half. He nudged your knees over his shoulders so he could wrap his arms around you, burying his fingers in your hair and clenching the strands in his fists, and as he rammed his cock into you harder– more feral and beastly than ever– the air in your lungs was expelled with every intoxicating thrust.

All you could see, smell, hear, and feel was him. He had effectively rendered you brainless as he claimed your mind, body, and soul, and the only thing you could do was submit to him and take it.

Your clammy hands blazed a trail along his skin as you wrapped your arms around him, your nails digging into his back so hard that it had to sting– but if Sebastian’s throaty groan was anything to go by, he fucking loved it.

“Gods, it’s so deep, isn’t it?” he asked you, the words coming out in-between panted breaths. A shiver ran up your spine at the thought before you clenched around him even more, the unmistakable feeling of his cock hitting your cervix making you see stars. “I’ll come inside– fill you up so good that you’ll walk out of here with it dripping down your legs. See what everyone else has to say about that.”

You couldn’t even formulate a response. The most you managed was a witless, muffled cry of his name against his shoulder, the weight of him pressing down on you smothering any of the unintelligible noises that escaped you. His rapid, uncompromising pace drove you higher than you had ever thought possible, and your climax steadily built from a whisper to a deafening clamor.

“Ah– Sebastian, please–” you babbled, spittle hanging from your lips as you begged. “Please, please, please–”

The hands he had fisted in your hair tightened even more, prompting you to crane your neck back to ease the prickling feeling. “Please what? Come on darling, tell me what you want.”

The bestial way Sebastian fucked into you intensified in that moment, his toes digging into the stone floor to lend him the support he needed to chase his own pleasure while simultaneously amplifying yours. It was too much– it felt too good– and you had to fight tooth and nail to get the words out before his efforts left you a useless, twitching pile of limbs beneath him. “Please, let me come!”

“Swear that you’re mine,” he growled in your ear, the rough timbre to his voice making you tremble in earnest. “Tell me that no one else will ever have you like this– swear it.”

“I s-swear– I swear it– I’m yours, Sebastian. Only yours, I swear, please please please– I swear–”

Sebastian said nothing else, instead rewarding your admission with a toe-curling roll of his hips as he plunged in all the way to the hilt. He kept moving like that, the chill-inducing friction against your clit combined with his sinfully precise, cervix-kissing thrusts more than enough to drag your finish from you. Your walls fluttered around him as you lost control of your voice, your entire body quaking and jolting as an assortment of moans, cries, and and airy gasps poured from your throat.

“Fuck–” Sebastian swore roughly, both of his hands abandoning their hold on your hair to brace against the floor to better support his body as you seemingly sucked him in deeper. “Good girl, fuck– I’m close. You're going to take it all, yeah?”

There wasn’t a chance in hell you could respond– not that Sebastian was waiting for you to. With a husky groan, he pushed himself as deep into you as he could go, getting a few last thrusts in before he bottomed out and unraveled. Hot, potent strings of his seed painted your insides, causing your eyes to roll back in your head before he began rutting and grinding his hips into you to milk as much of himself as he could. You could barely hear him mumbling for you to take it all– not that it was even up for debate– and when he finally relented and stilled his movements, you were too dazed to so much as glance at him.

A warm, featherlight feeling brought you back to the present after a couple of heated moments. Sebastian’s hands brushed a few stray strands of hair away from your forehead, his eyes unapologetically roving over you as he took in the sight of your fucked-out expression. He seemed pleased with himself, a barely there smirk revealing itself as he dropped his hand to your waist to dig his fingers into the bruised skin there. You inhaled sharply, but beyond that, you didn’t so much as wince. You were far too weary for that.

“In the future,” he started to say as he rocked forward, pressing his still-hard length into you briefly before withdrawing halfway, only to repeat the motion again. “I’d rather you keep your hands to yourself when you’re with your ‘friends’. Especially where Ominis is concerned…” he trailed off, his hands skimming along all the love-bites and bruises that littered your body. “That is, unless you want more reminders as to who it is exactly you’re dating.”

One look into Sebastian’s dark, piercing eyes told you that he wasn’t bluffing at all. You already knew that he was more than willing to stake his claim on you should the need arise, and part of you even wondered if he would have the decency to do so in private next time.

Next time? Would there even be a next time? He had certainly made his point.

The pleasant ache that lingered throughout your body had you second guessing yourself, however, and you honestly wondered if it would be worth it to rile Sebastian up again in the future. As terrifying as the thought was, you couldn’t help but entertain it as you smiled up at him innocently, a flurry of unholy visions racing through your mind as you relished in the possessive way he continued to touch you.

When he began to move his hips again, you decided to label the notion as a ‘maybe’ for now. Clearly he was far from finished with you, and despite the mildly terrifying side of him you had just been made privy to, you couldn’t help but shudder in anticipation.

Maybe rousing the sleeping dragon again wouldn’t be such a terrible thing… right?

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x female!reader #sebastian sallow oneshot #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy oneshot #my writing #I can't even remember what prompted past me to write this depravity all those months ago but honestly. she was onto something

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sicutpuella · 3 months

Text

Midnight Rain | Jacaerys x OC x Cregan

Prologue.

Summary: Betrothed since childhood, Lady Aelyria Velaryon and Prince Jacaerys Velaryon journey to Winterfell under Queen Rhaenyra's orders; however, upon meeting Lord Cregan Stark, Aelyria finds herself torn between her duty to Jacaerys and an unexpected desire for the Northern lord. Now, she must choose between love, honor, and duty at a critical crossroads.

Series Masterlist [Next Chapter]

Dragonstone was silent, as it often was in its brooding majesty. The summons from Queen Rhaenyra had brought Aelyria and Jacaerys together. She smoothed the edges of her gown with nervous precision, hoping to present herself as befitting her future queen and mother-in-law. Jacaerys observed her, his gaze fond as he watched her fidget.

"There's no need to be nervous," he reassured her, stepping closer with a soft chuckle. "You look lovely."

Aelyria glanced up at him, her eyes reflecting both gratitude and anxiety. "Yes, but... I always want to ensure I don’t appear afool before the queen," she admitted earnestly.

He chuckled again, the sound warm and reassuring. His hand found her shoulder, a steadying presence. "You could never look afool. I've never seen you anything less than perfect, Aelyria," he affirmed gently.

“You flatter me too much, my prince.”

“It’s the truth,” Jacaerys insisted with a slight shrug, his touch tender as he brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Besides…” His voice lowered conspiratorially, “If ever I think you look like a fool, you’ll be the first to know.”

Aelyria managed a small smile, grateful for his teasing reassurance amidst the weight of the impending audience with their queen.

She smiled softly, feeling his gentle hands adjust her hair into place.

“Thank you,” she murmured gratefully, her nerves palpable despite his reassuring touch. “Shall we walk? I don’t want to keep the queen waiting.”

He nodded briefly, his hand slipping back to his side as he offered his arm. "Of course. Let us not keep Her Grace waiting." They walked together, the quietude of Dragonstone punctuated only by the echo of their footsteps upon ancient stone. Each step seemed to amplify the tension hanging in the air. Jacaerys glanced at his betrothed, offering a small, encouraging smile.

"Are you nervous?" he inquired softly as they approached the door to the Queen's chambers.

“Always,” she confessed with a nervous chuckle.

Jacaerys chuckled in response, his fingers gently squeezing her elbow. "Trust me, my lady, there's no need to be. The queen has known you since you were a girl. She does not bite."

“Doesn’t make facing the queen any less daunting,” she replied with a jittery laugh as Jacaerys opened the door.

He chuckled again, sympathetic to her apprehension. Queen Rhaenyra could be formidable indeed. Leading her into the room, his touch remained reassuring on her elbow. "You'll be fine," he whispered encouragingly.

The Queen's chambers exuded elegance; a hearth crackled warmly, casting flickering light across the room. Rhaenyra sat at her desk, a quill poised over parchment as she glanced up upon their entrance, her expression welcoming.

"Jacaerys, Aelyria," she greeted warmly, setting aside her correspondence. "Thank you for coming."

She bowed immediately, her demeanor respectful yet tinged with nerves. “My queen, good evening…”

Rhaenyra chuckled softly at the quickness of her bow. "Please," she gestured graciously, "there's no need for such formalities. Come, take a seat." With a graceful motion, she indicated the chairs opposite her. Rhaenyra waited until both Aelyria and Jacaerys settled into their seats before continuing. "I wanted to talk to you both."

Jacaerys nodded, leaning back slightly in his chair, a silent signal of readiness to listen. Beside him, Aelyria fidgeted subtly, her unease betraying itself in the slight shift of her posture. Rhaenyra observed them both for a moment, a knowing glint in her violet eyes.

"I recall the day you two were betrothed," the queen began, her tone nostalgic. "Do you remember how old you were? Seven and eight years old, if I'm not mistaken." She chuckled softly, reminiscing.

“Oh… I remember it vividly,” Aelyria replied with a smile, glancing briefly at Jacaerys before meeting the queen's gaze.

Rhaenyra's chuckle continued, her eyes flickering warmly between them. "You were barely as tall as my knee, yet so earnest and full of curiosity. And Jace, always with that serious demeanor, even then."

Jacaerys snorted softly, a sheepish grin appearing. "I've always felt the weight of responsibility, Your Grace," he admitted with a mix of jest and sincerity.

Rhaenyra's laughter softened, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Indeed, and it suits you well. But now..." Her tone turned more serious, her gaze shifting between them both. "You've grown into fine young adults. Which brings me to why I've asked you here tonight."

It couldn’t be marriage, Aelyria thought to herself, her mind racing with the weight of their impending duties. Their wedding plans had been shelved indefinitely; there was no time for such luxuries amidst the looming threat of war.

So, what could it be?

Rhaenyra's gaze shifted between them, the gravity of her expression clear. "As you are both aware," she began, her voice carrying the weight of authority, "The realm braces itself for war. The greens have made their move, and conflict now seems inevitable."

The atmosphere in the room grew dense, the seriousness of their conversation pressing down upon them. Jacaerys and Aelyria sat upright in their chairs, fully attentive to their queen.

“I want both of you to ride north,” Rhaenyra declared.

Jacaerys furrowed his brow in confusion. "North?" he echoed, trying to grasp the queen's directive. "To the north? But why?"

Leaning forward, Rhaenyra's eyes hardened with resolve, yet tempered with understanding. "The north possesses vital resources—men, lands, grain," she explained, each word deliberate. "We need these resources to ensure our victory in the coming conflict. It falls upon both of you to secure them for us."

“My Queen, do you mean for us to negotiate with the Starks?” Aelyria asked, seeking clarification.

Rhaenyra nodded firmly. “Precisely. You will journey to Winterfell and parley with Lord Stark. I trust you to secure his allegiance and that of the north to our cause.”

“But, Your Grace," Jacaerys interjected cautiously, "Wouldn’t it be more prudent for you to engage Lord Stark directly?”

Rhaenyra's gaze sharpened, her response unwavering. "That is precisely why I have chosen you, Prince Jacaerys," she affirmed firmly. "The north values strength and directness. They do not respond well to subtleties and courtly politics. As a prince and a symbol of our strength, your presence will carry weight. And perhaps," she added with a meaningful pause, "your company will sweeten the deal."

She turned to Aelyria next, acknowledging the practicality of her youth. “And Lord Stark may find your youthful spirit more relatable in negotiations. Your sincerity will be an asset."

Aelyria nodded solemnly, fully comprehending the queen's strategic plan.

"Good," Rhaenyra acknowledged with a nod, her attention now focusing on Aelyria. "Your presence alongside the prince will serve as a gesture of goodwill. Moreover, Lord Stark, being without heirs, will likely appreciate seeing a young face."

Jacaerys glanced at Aelyria, surprise mingling with concern on his features. "You expect me to bring Aelyria?" he queried, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Rhaenyra arched an eyebrow, a a hint of amusement crossing her expression. "Is that a concern, Prince Jacaerys?" she replied pointedly. "Aelyria is your betrothed. As you undertake the task of securing the north's allegiance, it is only fitting that she accompanies you."

“I see the wisdom in that, Your Grace,” Aelyria interjected, speaking up in support. “Presenting ourselves as a young couple may indeed strengthen our diplomatic efforts in the north. Am I correct in my understanding?”

The queen's smile widened subtly. “Well said, my dear," she affirmed. "Your interpretation is spot on. It will demonstrate to the north that we are not just seasoned rulers but also embody the vigor and unity of a strong realm."

Rhaenyra turned her gaze back to Jacaerys, her eyebrow raised expectantly. “Do you have any objections, Prince?”

Jacaerys hesitated briefly, weighing his thoughts before responding carefully. “No, Your Grace,” he replied earnestly. “I simply… worry for Aelyria. The north is harsh, and the journey fraught with peril.”

“My prince, I assure you," Aelyria reassured him with a calm confidence. "I am an adept rider, and I will be vigilant."

Jacaerys turned to his betrothed, his expression a blend of concern and determination. "I know you're capable, Aely," he murmured, his voice softening. "But the North poses unique challenges. Its roads are perilous, its weather harsh. I can't bear the thought of any harm coming to you."

“I cannot remain confined here forever…” Aelyria met Jace’s gaze, her voice steady. “I too wish to fulfill our duty to our families.”

Jacaerys held her gaze, conflicted emotions flickering in his eyes. He wanted to shield her from danger, to keep her safe within Dragonstone’s walls. Yet, deep down, he understood their obligation. He knew Aelyria's strength and resolve.

Finally, he exhaled heavily, his expression resigned. "I understand," he admitted quietly. "But my concern remains."

Rhaenyra observed their exchange with a fond smile, touched by their mutual care. “You two are as endearing as ever,” she remarked, her tone gentle yet authoritative. “But you are both grown now, and in times of war, appearances matter. The North must see that you, as the future rulers of the Seven Kingdoms, are capable and steadfast.”

Aelyria nodded in agreement with the queen’s assessment.

Rhaenyra’s smile widened, gratified by Aelyria’s understanding. “Good,” she nodded, then shifted her focus to Jacaerys. “Now, pay heed to my words. The North differs vastly from the South. Their customs, their people, their ways…” She paused, her demeanor turning serious. “You must respect and honor their traditions. You are not merely royal figures, but emissaries of the crown.”

"Remember, winning the North's support hinges on respect," Rhaenyra emphasized, ensuring they grasped the importance. "Immerse yourselves in their culture, forge connections with their leaders, and demonstrate that the Iron Throne is not distant but a steadfast ally they can trust and rally behind."

Evening settled over Dragonstone, casting a soft glow through the windows of Aelyria's chamber. Jacaerys sat beside her at the vanity, quietly observing as she brushed her silver hair.

“I’ve readied five furs... how many have you packed?” Aelyria inquired, turning to him with a curious gaze.

He snorted softly, a playful glint in his eyes as he watched her. "Five furs? You'll be swaddled like a bear before we even reach the North," he teased lightly. "I've only packed three."

“I refuse to freeze; I don’t want to wear the same cloak,” she insisted with a sigh.

Jacaerys chuckled, amused by her determination as he leaned back against the wall. "You’ll have to wear a cloak more than once," he reminded her gently. "It's a long journey ahead."

“I know…” Aelyria sighed softly, her concern evident.

He couldn't help but find her worry endearing, a testament to her meticulous nature. Pushing off from the wall, he approached her from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he whispered reassuringly, "You'll be warm. I won't let you freeze, I promise."

“Have you finished packing?” she asked, leaning into his embrace.

He chuckled again, his embrace tightening around her. "Almost," he admitted, feeling content with her closeness. "Just a few more things. And you?"

He chuckled softly once more, his fingers gently combing through her silver hair. "Your hair will be fine, Aely," he assured her softly. "And even if it rebels against the cold, I'll still think you're the most beautiful woman in Westeros."

She rolled her eyes playfully as Jacaerys planted a kiss on her cheek.

"No need to roll your eyes," he teased, his lips trailing from her cheeks down to her neck. "I mean it. You could be covered head-to-toe in snow and I'd still think you were the most beautiful woman in Westeros."

His kisses lingered, igniting a warmth that spread through her as his arms enveloped her. They stood entwined for a moment, lost in each other’s embrace, until he reluctantly pulled back, his breath caressing her ear.

"I suppose we should finish packing," he murmured, his hands reluctant to leave her hips.

She rubbed her thighs together suggestively, a plea in her gesture.

“Can’t it wait, my dear?” She smiled.

He chuckled, her touch sending a shiver down his spine. The temptation was strong, but they had a journey ahead and preparations to complete.

"We shouldn't delay, my love," he whispered, his hands tracing comforting circles on her hips. "We must ensure we're fully prepared."

“Just a few minutes?” she implored, her hands running up and down his arms.

His resolve faltered under her touch, her gentle hands evoking a longing in him. He hesitated, knowing their time alone would be scarce once they embarked.

"A few minutes?" he repeated, his voice husky. "Last time we said 'just a few minutes'..." He noticed her subtle movement, her thighs pressing together in silent entreaty.

“Please? We won’t have much time alone once we’re flying.”

Her plea, coupled with the sight of her desire, melted his resistance completely.

With a low groan, he surrendered. "You're relentless," he murmured, his grip on her hips tightening. "Alright. A few minutes... but then we must finish packing."

The kiss began slowly—a tender meeting of their lips—but it quickly escalated into something more demanding; their bodies pressed tightly against each other, hands roaming, exploring. He leaned her back against the edge of the vanity, trapping her between the wood and his body. A low moan escaped from his throat as he deepened the kiss, his tongue invading her mouth. For a few heated moments, they lost themselves in each other, the world outside their small corner of the room forgotten.

After what seems to be definitely not a few minutes, he slowly pulled back from her, a dreamy and satisfied expression on his face. His hair was slightly disheveled, his breathing still a bit irregular. He took a moment to regain his bearings, his eyes roaming over her, taking in her slightly flushed cheeks and messy hair.

"You..." he began, his voice a little huskier than usual. "You're a menace, you know that?"

“Have I been getting better, my prince?” she smiled mischievously.

He chuckled, his eyes narrowing in mock disapproval. "You've gotten too good," he admitted, his tone half-teasing, half-adoring. "I'm afraid you're going to be the death of me. One of these days, I'll end up being late for a council meeting or something because... well, let's just say you're very... distracting."

“Do you think people know that we…”

He chuckled again, a smirk spreading across his face. "They probably suspect," he responded. "After all, how often do betrothed couples go to each other's rooms without an escort? And with how often your handmaiden has to fix your hair and adjust your dress...?"

He paused, a mischievous glint in his eye. "But they probably don't know the specifics. And definitely not how often... or how... well, you distracted me."

“It’s not really improper if we are to wed soon,” she smiled.

He chuckled again, enjoying the lightheartedness of their banter. "I suppose you're right," he admitted. "As future rulers, we are afforded a bit of leeway. But it's still... not exactly proper, to be so intimate before the marriage."

He stepped forward, closing the distance between them, his hand gently tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "But I don't mind," he said, his voice quieter now. "I find it... hard to resist you."

She giggled. “As do I, my dear.”

He smiled at her giggle, the sound never failing to make his heart flutter. "We're quite the pair, then," he remarked, his thumb running gently over her jawline. "Two rulers-to-be, hopelessly attracted to each other, unable to keep our hands off each other."

“We should sleep, my dear… you’ll sleep beside me?”

He nodded, his expression softening. "Of course I'll sleep beside you," he replied, his voice quieter now. "I always sleep beside you, don't I?"

He pulled back the covers and climbing underneath them. He then looked at her expectantly, patting the empty space beside him. "Come on, my lady. Let's get some sleep."

“Good. I thought maybe you’d snuggle next to your mother,” she teased.

He snickered, amused by her teasing. "Ah yes, there's nothing more comforting than snuggling with your mother," he jested, rolling his eyes playfully. "But I suppose... you'll do."

He moved over on the bed, making room for her. "Come here," he said, patting the empty space again. "And watch it with the teasing, or I might change my mind and go spend the night with my mother instead."

All photos sourced through Pinterest, dividers made by @cafekitsune

Next Chapter

#cregan stark #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x oc #cregan stark smut #cregan stark hotd #cregan stark ff #cregan stark fanfiction #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x you #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys smut #jacaerys x oc #cregan x reader #cregan x jace #hotd #hotd season 2 #hotd fanfic

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itz-mfkn-de · 6 days

Note

could you do a theo nott x ravenclaw!reader where he helps her study for a big test? but he ends up just "distracting" her ??

Yes yes yes yes yes I love u and ur brain this is amazing.

\\STUDY BUDDY// T.N

Warnings- sex, kissing, cussing, Italian, yah that’s it

TY FOR THE REQUEST ALSO IM WORKING ON THE OTHERS SORRY FOR TAKING FORVER IVE BEEN SO BUSY😭 but i love you all and i promise i am working on them.

——

You sat in your dorm room, the books around you swallowing your surroundings. You had been studying for the past couple hours and you had no intentions of stopping. This test determined if you passed the class or not, you couldn’t let yourself fall behind, not after you’d worked so hard to get to the top.

Your brows furrowed while you re read over the chapter info, trying your best to imbed it into your brain.

Your intense focus was broken by the light knocks on your door, and you knew exactly who it was.

You sighed softly and got up from your desk. You unlocked the door and slowly opened it, making eye contact with a certain brunette not long after.

“Theo, I thought you had plans with friends?” You said with a soft smile.

He walked past you and planted a kiss on your forehead, his hands tracing your waist.

“ I did, but I missed my girl,” he mumbled as his body flopped on your bed “Missed you, bella.”

“I missed you too Theo,” you walked up to him to give him a soft kiss, just wanting to feel his lips against your own for a quick moment.

He moaned once he felt the warmth of your mouth meet his, hands roaming slowly under your shirt.

You pulled back and grabbed his hands before they travelled and lower.

“No, i have to study, Theodore,” you said strictly “I can’t fail this test.”

He let out a groan.

“Amore, when have you ever failed a test? Not once, and I don’t think this is any different from before.” He replied while putting your hands on his chest and continuing.

His lips ghosted along the Side of your neck leaving you breathless.

“Theodore..I really need to study.” You grumbled as you made little attempt to push him back.

He left soft sloppy kisses where his warm breath had resided.

“Mmm, but you’re so smart already, bambina..my smart girl.” He smiled into your neck, loving how flustered you had become.

He knew exactly what he was doing. Every word that left his mouth was meticulously chosen just to make your knees weak, and Salazar save you, it was working.

“Nuh uh, I’m not letting you sweet talk me.” You stated while completely pulling yourself away from Theodore, much to his dismay.

“I have to study,” you looked at him with a glare and went back to your desk.

Every part of your body was currently on fire. You needed him in every sense of the word, but you knew you needed to finish studying first.

You tried your best to focus on your book infront of you but your mind kept wandering else where.

You heard a couple footsteps but paid no mind to whatever Theodore had decided to occupy himself with.

A couple seconds passed before you turned your head to see Theodore pulling up a chair and sitting next to you.

“Theodore, what are you doing?” You asked with a tinge of annoyance, but you couldn’t stay mad at him, not when he looked at you like that.

“ I want to help you study,” he stated while noticing your doubtful glare “I really do, no games I promise, principessa.” He assured you.

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes at his boyish grin he let slip across his face.

You began reading the questions out loud, allowing him to help you answer a few of them aswell.

“Let’s make it fun, yeah?” He asked after another handful of questions had been answered.

“How do you mean?” You asked while writing a few things down with your quill.

“I’ll worry about that, you keep reading.” He ordered softly, his hands moving the hair away from the side of your neck he was facing.

You did your best to ignore him and went back to the book, focusing on the words instead of your very needy boyfriend’s hand creeping up your thigh.

His lips continued where’d they’d left off from earlier , finding specific spots that got you squirming and focusing on them.

“Theodore.. I t—I told you I need to study..” you managed to get out in between your harsh breaths.

“Mm, you work so hard, can’t have my Bella ragazza overworked…” he groaned, his hands tracking under your skirt.

“I—i” you tried to to get a complaint out, but Theodore was quick to shut you up once his hands reached your already wet core.

He let out a gutteral moan at the feeling of your wetness coating his fingers.

“See how wet you are baby? Let your self relax…let me help you.” He whispered in your ear as he pulled his hands back and lifted you from the chair.

You yelled as your back hit the bed, him finding his place on top of you not too long after.

His lips wasted no time in connecting to yours, tongue and teeth clashing against eachother with raw need being their motivation.

His hands slipped back down to your core, pulling your skirt above your hips.

Every one of your nerves felt as if it were being set on fire, the arsonist being Theodore not and his Godsend hands.

He gently rubbed your clit and discard of your panties somewhere in the room, not giving much mind to the thin layer of fabric that blocked him from what he wanted.

You shivered as his long slender fingers played with your clit, teasing you to no end.

“Bel bambino, all worked up, I’m sorry I didn’t help you sooner.” He cooed at your flustered face.

“Theo..please.” You moaned once his mouth made contact with your neck again.

“Please what, Bella, let me hear you say what you want.” He grunted through his clenched jaw as he slipped two finger into your dripping hole.

“Mio dio, sei così bagnato.” He mumbled under his breath.

You gasped at the feeling of his fingers stretching you out.

You arched your back off the bed as he continued his ministrations.

“I want you too fuck me…please.” You begged while your nails dug into his shoulders.

“Salazar fucking save me, well when you beg like that, how could I say no, Amore?” Theodore teased as he pulled his hands away from you to undo his pants.

You whined at the absence of his fingers but he was quick to pull down his boxers and push his tip against you.

He looked at you through his long eyelashes, as if asking for permission.

“Please.” Was all you could muster out before he started to slowly push into you with a hiss leaving his lips.

Your head lulled back as you felt the stretch of his thick cock set in. No matter how many times you to had fucked, you’d never get sued to when he fist pushes in.

“Santa merda, you’re so fucking tight..” he growled into your ear as he slowly pulled back only to push in a little harder than before.

You let out a moan, one louder than intended, but Theodore was quick to shut you up with his mouth on yours.

The kiss was sloppy, teeth and tongue met in a harsh collision, as his thrusts began to pick up pace.

Your hands gripped the sheets, trying to resurface yourself. Theos thrust became relentless, giving you no time to catch your breath at all.

His grip on your chin was replaced by wet sloppy kisses. His hands found their place next to your head.

“Theo I c— oh my fuck.” You whimpered out.

“Cmon, Bella, let go f’me.” He slurred out through his gritted teeth while whispering some Italian curses under his breath.

Your back arched from the bed as you sucked in a harsh breath of air, feeling everything in your body set on fire.

Your head spun as you rode out your high through theos thrust.

He quickly pulled out and came on your stomach, flopping down next to you.

You stared at the ceiling while you caught your breath.

“You are never allowed to study with me again.” You joked at Theodore, turning your body on its side to face him.

He gave you his signature grin, kissing you like you were the only girl in the world.

#harry potter #slytherin #theodore nott #hogwarts #theodore nott scenarios #mattheo riddle scenarios #tom riddle x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott oneshot #Theodore nott smut #Theodore not fluff #x reader #fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #smut #mdni

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universalitgirlsblog2 · 10 months

Text

💗🩰IT GIRL YOUTUBERS🩰💗

1) Persephonesmind ( Mindset )

Alessia has really great content on developing a postive and strong mindset. She is so underrated . She speaks softly , if you prefer someone who is more compassionate while speaking then her videos are really good for you !

2) Simonesquared ( Mindset , manifestation, self improvement )

Simone has two channels - one is simonessquared & other one is simmonesimmo . She has everything , she posted some videos related to manifestation, rewiring subconscious mind , study tips , mindset etc . She is so funny which makes her entertaining too !!

3) Lana Blakely( Mindset )

Lana has really amazing tips on developing self love , healthy habits , relationships etc . Her voice is really comforting , her videos will help you alot !

4) Daiz /Daisy Choii ( Productivity )

Discovering her was a blessing ! She posts vlogs related to studying, organizing her desks , travelling , room makeover etc. She will motivate you to become more productive .

5) Saranghoe ( Productivity )

She posts vlogs regarding morning & night routines ,studying , organizing her room etc .She is another youtube who will help you to romanticize your life & motivate you to be more productive .

6) Yoora Jung ( Productivity )

I love Yoora so much ! She posts vlogs regarding studying, working out , travelling etc. She will motivate you to study harder , be more productive & romanticize your life.

7) Princess Jess ( Wonyoungism , Productivity )

Princess Jess is so wonyoung coded and I love it ! She is so underrated, If you don't know her , please check her videos out ! She has great content on wonyoungism . She posts videos regarding weight loss tips ,morning & night routines inspired by Wonyoung , Wonyoung essentials , style inspired by Wonyoung.

8) Best dressed ( Fashion , Vlogs )

She posts videos regarding fashion & her favorite movies , vlogs related to traveling , apartment makeover etc . My favorite video of hers is 50 outfits when you have nothing to wear . Do check her channel out !

9) DN. Beauty Natural ( Health , beauty )

This channel is pretty underrated , it deserves more . They have great exercises for both your face & body . They will help you get your dream body & enhance your natural beauty !

10 ) Emi Wong ( Health )

Emi has good exercises related to weight loss , getting a good posture etc. She also has kpop workouts( most of them are on blackpink songs )

11) Mish Choi (Health )

She has amazing workouts inspired by kpop idols. My favorite workout of her is the Blackpink Jennie pilates & IU yoga .

12) Hina fit ( Health )

She also has amazing workouts inspired by kpop idols & on kpop songs too.

13) Chloe Ting ( Health )

Chloe is a life saver. She posts videos related to workouts, healthy recipes , results from her workouts , house tour etc.

14) Study to Success ( Academics )

I love her aesthetic,she has great tips on how to become that student , how to study when you are tired , romantizing school etc. She also posts study vlogs and morning & night routines.

15) Study quill ( Academics )

She not only gives tips on studying but she has videos on self care , Journaling , dorm tour etc.

💗🩰I wasn't able to mention all youtubers in the last post so I had to post another part . I hope this post helped you. Please remember to consume content that makes you feel good & helps you become your best version. TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF , LOVE YOURSELF & PROTECT YOUR ENERGY.💗🩰

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milunalupin · 6 months

Note

hi hi hi! so many congrats on a 100 followers, what a deserved accomplishment, love!!

you can obviously ignore this if you're uncomfortable writing this/or this doesn't hit your creative spot. because this is so cliched uggh.

okay so i was thinking maybe a little grumpy!reader x sunshine!sirius, friends to lovers trope? (it makes so weak in the knees 🫠.) feel free to take the plot literally anywhere your heart desires, because you'll serve either ways!!

love you, make sure to drink water and eat good. hope you have a great day/night ahead.

--🍁autumn

hi hi my love ! thank you for you patience <3 and adding more sirius to my blog

— sunshine

sunshine!sirius x grumpy!reader ★ 1.2k words

"Sirius Black if you don't stop tapping your finger against the table, I will not hesitate to hex you."

You sent a glare towards the raven haired boy from across the table. History of Magic was your worst subject and you had a big exam coming up. "Why aren't you with the other boys anyways?"

It's not like you two weren't friends, but Sirius wasn't usually the one to seek you out. It was usually Peter since he was the one who introduced you to his friends, then Remus who at times also enjoyed his peace and quiet. You spent quite a bit of time with the girls too, especially since you all roomed together. James and Sirius had always been friendly with you, but it wasn't like you would stay up in the common room sharing secrets, although Sirius had recently been around you more than than normal.

"Well aren't you just a ray of light." Sirius sent you a lopsided grin, setting his elbows on the table and resting his head on his hands. "They're out somewhere with Prongs looking for Evans, and I wanted to see my favorite girl."

Your quill froze over the parchment. Sirius was such a flirt, you couldn't take anything he said to you to heart, because he didn't mean it, right? You lowered your head and tried to focus on your notes, pretending like you didn't hear him.

"Anyways," he chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "You know about his problem with Evans, and you're a girl, could you give me some advice to relay back to him?"

"Thanks for noticing. What kind of advice?"

"Well, what sort of things do girls like to receive?"

"I don't know Sirius, I don't regularly receive gifts from boys." You rolled your eyes and scoffed, glancing up at him to see his eyes on you, waiting for an answer. "but I supposed I would quite like it if someone brought me my favorite drink, or book. You know, it shows that they've paid attention to the little things."

"So how would you- girls-" he let out a shaky laugh, his cheeks tinged pink. "How would girls like to be asked on a date?"

How would you know? You didn't want to speak negatively of yourself but there had to be some reason as to why boys never came up to you. You would never guess that it was because Sirius had already warned the whole male population at Hogwarts to back off his very pretty friend.

Groaning quietly, you rubbed your hands over your tired face. "Sirius, I don't know, can you please let me review my notes in peace?"

"That doesn't count, you're not being fair." Peter whined, pulling on his hair as he looked down at the chessboard. You shrugged and stuck your tongue out at the boy, getting up and taking a seat on the carpet by the fire next to Lily.

It was the night before your exam and as much as you wanted to hole up in your room and cram, your friends had convinced you to spend time with them. Lily was painting Marlene's fingernails while Remus took your place playing against Peter in chess.

"Who wants hot chocolate!" James called out, Sirius and him walking towards you all with trays of steaming mugs. The two passed out the sweet beverages,

"Thanks Sirius." you thanked him softly, his gaze softening as you wrapped your hands around the warm drink and blew gently on the top. Your eyes brightened as you took a sip and tasted a hint of peppermint.

The rest of the evening was spent playing games, dancing to Remus' new records and sharing Peter's surplus of sweets from Honeydukes. You felt your shoulders relax as you looked around at your friends having a good time, catching Sirius already looking you. His eyes darted away as soon as you saw him, the corners crinkling as he laughed as some joke James had made. You felt a nudge in your side, turning to see Lily cocking her head towards the dorms asking if you were ready to go. Nodding, the three of you girls stood up and waved goodnight to the Marauders and shuffled up to your room.

You flopped into bed with a blissful sigh. "Thanks for tonight guys, I needed this."

Marlene waved her hand in dismissal. "You've studied hard, you needed a bit of a break."

"The peppermint hot chocolate was just the thing I needed, it's my favorite."

"Peppermint hot chocolate?" Lily's nose scrunched with disgust, but then her eyes widened with realization, her and Marlene sharing a knowing grin. "Right, the peppermint hot chocolate."

You turned your head to squint at them. "Why do you two have that look on your faces?"

"We don't know what you're talking about, goodnight!"

You're going to pass the exam, you're to going to p—

"Watch it, you half-breed, or I'll turn you into the little mutt you are." Lucius Malfoy spat at you as you ran into him, pulling out his wand.

"Oh sod off, why don't you put your daddy's money where your mouth is?" you scoffed, reaching for your own wand. He sneered at your comeback, taking a step closer to you.

"Hey sunshine, I was looking everywhere for you! Let me walk you to class." Sirius appeared next to you, taking your school bag and slinging it over his shoulder, shooting a grin to Lucius, canines on full display. "Thanks for watching her for me Malfoy but next time, don't."

Sirius steered you away from the fuming Slytherin, arm around your shoulder. He ducked his head down to speak to you quietly. "You alright?"

"Fine, boys are just jerks." you grumbled, your mind now focusing on your exam as you two turned into the hall where your classroom was located.

"Not all of us though, right?"

The corner of his mouth lifted, your smiled mirroring his own. "Yeah, Pete's alright."

"You're killing me doll." He threw his head back dramatically, his smile slipping as yours did, now standing in front of the History of Magic classroom. "Hey, how about we made a deal?"

"Huh?" you pulled yourself out of a daze, looking up at him. "What's the deal?"

Sirius coughed to the side and straightened his posture. "You get an Outstanding on your exam, and I'll take you out."

A flush crept up your face, not believing your ears. As annoying as he was, of course you had thought about Sirius romantically before, who hadn't? You really hoped your studying paid off, your smile and voice coming out shy. "What if I don't get an Outstanding?"

Sirius lit up like the Great Hall during the holidays, smiling ear to ear. "Then I'm still taking you out to cheer you up. I also have just been dying to take you on a date, sunshine."

An hour later you left the classroom with a giant smile on your face and a big 'O' on your parchment. Sirius immediately took your hand in his and dragged you to Hogsmeade for your first date, the twinkling sound of your laughter letting him know it wouldn't be your last.

#milunalupin's 100 party !#marauders x reader #marauders era #marauders #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader

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bellalaufeyson69 · 1 year

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Peter Quill x Reader

Enemies to lovers (sort of)

Breakfast

(Spoiler if reading this next sentence! Takes place after GOTG and before GOTG3. Gamora is with the Ravagers and is no longer with Peter in any way. Also meaning that as confirmed by James Gunn, we the reader can understand what Groot says because we’ve been with him so long 🥹)

Description: Quill and Yn hardly ever get along and it’s gotten on everyone’s nerves. Nebula comes up with a solution to the problem by making them spend time together in hopes of working out the differences.

Wc ♡ 3.5k

Masterlist ♡

————

Rays of sunlight burst through the wide front windows of the Milano as the team sat around the table waiting for Groot to finish the breakfast. We all took a straw from a hat daily to see who had the duty, though when any one of us pulled the straw and saw it said groot, we’d discretely pretended it said someone else’s name. It wasn’t that we didn’t trust him to be a good cook, it was just that he can get a little… distracted.

“What day is it today?” The tree pondered, looking over to Mantis awaiting an answer all the while completely unaware that a twig from his arm has now caught fire from the stove.

I was quick to catch this and jumped from my spot to put it out, though as I ran to help him I came crashing into a tall, decently sweaty Peter. “Common Quill!” I hissed before turning back to Groot only to be halted by his annoying voice.

“Oh like that was my fault,” he complained throwing his hands in the air and looking to the team for reassurance yet getting none as they tended to zone Peter and I’s arguments out.

“Maybe if you payed any attention to anything you ever do!” I snapped turning back to face him feeling a rise of irritation come over me causing me to completely forget why I’d even got up in the first place. “Also, you’re disgusting. We have showers for a reason, you literally soaked my arm in your nasty sweat,” I made a disturbed expression whilst wiping the warm wet liquid onto my pants.

He scoffed with an eye roll while taking a glance at the ceiling. “Im sorry if I get a little sweaty when I work out, it’s natural, and I was going to take a shower, not that it’s any of your business; after we ate breakfast.”

“How convenient, so we can all join together and eat while inhaling your B.O.”

“Oh would you two please just shut up! I’m sick of all the incessant bickering you make me want to rip my ears off,” Nebula intruded from beside Groot. She and Rocket had been busy helping Groot put out the small flame that Peter and I had long forgotten about. “You’ve been irritating because Gamora’s gone, and you’ve been a living-breathing brat ever since you failed the last mission,” she called out our behavior almost in a motherly way. She’s been weirdly diplomatic when dealing with us instead of just telling us to go yell at each other somewhere else.

With a huff I went back to my seat and sank in the chair feeling a tinge of embarrassment overwhelm me at the memory of that last mission. I had never failed before, and this time put everyone at danger because I couldn’t control my emotions and attacked a guard too soon. I got a lecture about it from pretty much everyone except Mantis and Groot. That experience definitely hurt my pride quite a lot, so sometimes I might have a little extra sass to try and build it back up. “At least mines a real reason to be acting like a jerk,” Peter mumbled while sitting down in the seat farthest from me.

I snickered to myself at his comment. Sometimes he can be a real idiot. “You realize you called yourself a jerk too right? Nice one Einstein.” I clapped back not willing to let him win this argument, or really any in the future. Peter Quill just always has to be the leader, the cool guy, always right. Not when it comes to me.

“That’s it!” Nebula shouted in pure aggravation. She stomped over to the both of us and grabbed one of our arms with a decent strength considering she’s part bot. “You two are on breakfast duty, and if I hear you argue once while doing it then you’re both gonna be stuck cleaning the engine for two months,” she snapped, shoving us both toward the fridge. We often all had chores to do but we made it fun by having a spin wheel to see who has to do what. Cleaning the engine was always the worst one, but what made it easier was knowing you only had to do it once and then you could spin the wheel next chore week.

“Who said you were in charge? I think you’re forgetting this is MY ship,” Peter defended while crossing his arms.

“Yeah,” I added confidently. Who the heck is Nebula to tell us what to do.

“Nah I agree with that. You two are the most annoying a-holes I’ve ever had to share a space with. Mantis and Drax don’t even argue as much as you do,” Rocket chimed in matter of factly.

“It is true! I would much rather sit and listen to Mantis’s pathetic stories than hear you two fight anymore,” Drax said as he stood tall and serious.

Mantis glanced over to him with a bubbly smile. “Awhh thank you!”

“You are welcome idiot,” Drax replied with a pleasant smile. In his mind he was being respectful, and Mantis didn’t know any better.

Nebula turned her head back to us with an expression as of saying ‘that’s what I thought’. “So it’s settled. You two are gonna work this stupid stuff out, and if we hear so much as a bad tone, then you get stuck with Engine duty,”

We’d both surfaced a similar response between grumbles and eye rolls, yet had no choice but to accept our fate. Majority rules is how this ship functions, which was a feature I loved when it was in regard to someone else. Soon the rest of the group piled out, rocket on his way out mumbled on about how we’d better be quick. I gave a short glance to Peter which was a mistake as he’d so very annoyingly been standing there sifting through songs his Walkman and earbuds. Of course he’d tune me out, I wouldn’t be surprised if he just stood here the whole time too.

I started gathering some of ingredients and pans we’d need, already feeling angry at the fact that he hadn’t even attempted to move to help me. This was a clear indicator that my assumption of his laziness was likely going to be right. I semi aggressively dropped down the container of bacon onto the counter letting my current mood take the control of my motion. I grabbed the unused pan and placed it down and began putting strips of bacon on it. “You’re doing that wrong,” Peter softly mentioned. He seemed tired, I wasn’t sure if it was tired of the arguing or just in general but the tone definitely helped ease my anger a little bit.

With a huff I turned to look over at him and was surprised to find him standing so close, hovering just inches from my frame looking down at the pan, then making eye contact with me. His expression was blank, and calm which confused me. “I’m putting the strips out, how else am I supposed to do it?” I felt my brow still furrowed down in the looming frustration I felt before. We always fight, and one of us always takes it too far, those are times that make it hard to ever not be annoyed at the man’s presence.

He took an earbud out and let it hang by the cord before stepping closer until his body was pressed against my side. I stayed long enough to feel his warmth until I realize the normal thing to do would be to step out of his way, so that I did. Part of me wished he’d do it again, that he’d give me an excuse to accept his embrace. If I hate him so much why did that little ounce of intimacy feel so nice? A confusing mix of emotions. “You don’t put them all at once only do half so they cook more evenly,” he explained whilst taking off some of the already placed bacon. “Also put them folded like this so that- F*CK! AGH!” He’d instantly jumped back from the grizzling pan holding his hand in pain. “Stupid grease, ow!” He complained to the pan as if it were alive which made me laugh quite a lot. The whole scene was funny really.

I hadn’t noticed that through my laughing he’d been looking at me smiling ever so slightly, until I caught him, in which he looked back at the pan. “Are you alright there captain?” I amusingly teased his super strong title, while instinctively placing a caring hand on his shoulder with a soft rub. The moment I placed it I felt the mortified realization of my actions and ripped my hand back off. Too embarrassed to comment on it I’d redirected my focus to making eggs in the other pan hoping he wouldn’t mention it.

I cooked in silence for a little while until I felt as if I was being watched. Hesitantly I turned my gaze to Peter and surely enough was met with him staring right back at me. He looked to be deep in thought until I caught him when his lips curled into an arrogant grin. “Oh no no no, are you kidding me? You’re tellin’ me you can’t even cook eggs either? What can you do?” He provoked in amusement making me roll my eyes.

I waved my hands in the air in defeat. “Fine! You do it yourself then.” I stepped aside from the counter and began to walk away until I felt a warm hand take a light grip on my forearm and pull me backward. I stumbled back to my position in front of the pan where Peter was beside me holding my arm.

“Relax,” he soothed while slowly inching closer, it almost seemed like he was hoping his movements were slow enough for me not to notice. “You’re not gonna get any better with that attitude,” he continued, his hands slowly brushing my hips while I was too distracted listening to what he was saying. He moved cautiously almost trying to catch me in the distraction. “So much attitude all the time,”

I scoffed at his comment. “Attitude? I don’t have attitude, you’re the one who’s always moping around making little comments at everything.” his fingers now wrapped around my waist as he stood behind me, his breath tickling my shoulder.

“Let me show you,” he furthered, completely ignoring what I’d said and going on with his own point.

I’d attempted at pushing his hands off me. “No, I don’t need your help Peter,”

He stood there his grip strong as he looked down at me with a little ‘huh’. After the death glare I’d given he kindly explained the cause of the sound. “You called me Peter,” he pointed out with a grin.

I felt taken off guard at that comment and honestly a little flustered. I always made it a point to call him by his last name, I felt that first names were for people I respected. Why did that slip so easily? “I was just distracted…” I trailed avoiding his gaze and looking back to the pan. “Are we gonna cook the eggs or not?” I redirected the conversation away from the tension as I didn’t know how to react. My heart fluttered at his proximity but my mind reminds me of our dynamic. We’ve never got along let alone been close in this way.

He took my cue to move on and eagerly grabbed the spatula, handed it to me then paused and hesitantly slipped his hand on the back of my own. His other hand rested on my waist still as he guided the cooking. “It’s all about the wrist” he spoke softly.

I let out a breathe as I stood stiffly. I wasn’t sure what to do with this but I didn’t hate it. In fact it was quite the opposite. “This isn’t going to help you get over Gamora,” I bluntly stated without really thinking about it. I didn’t intend on being rude and my tone pushed that. Truth is that must’ve been an insecurity festered up. He’s a flirt and I can’t be his distraction.

He was silent for a moment but his position didn’t budge. “Why are you always so quick to push me away?” He quietly asked sincerely. He seemed hurt which was the last thing I expected from him. Was I reading our dynamic wrong? I couldn’t have been I mean we fight constantly.

“I don’t-“

“Don’t.” He interrupted. “Be real with me, just this one time,” he took the spatula from my hand and placed it on the table before grabbing the hand back again and bringing it to my waist to hold there. “What can I do to fix you and me?”

I didn’t know how to respond to that whatsoever because I didn’t know what that meant. You and me. As in no more arguing? As in becoming friends? As in something more? It doesn’t help that Peter is known for his flirting. “I-“ I sighed. “What do you mean?” I felt myself submitting to his touch as my body relaxed against his.

“Last weekend, we’re sitting on the couch. My arm was up around the top of it and if I moved it down just a little bit it would’ve literally been around your shoulder. Everything’s fine we’re all watching a movie, and I make a bad joke about your favorite character because I think it’s cute when you’re mad and you storm off cursing at me.” I couldn’t see the point he was pushing for but found myself blushing at the compliment. “Can’t you tell I do those things to get close to you? We don’t talk what so ever and the most I get from you is if I pull it out of you by making a dumb comment,” he explained his head now stooped closer to my shoulder, resting slightly against the side of my face and neck. “I know I can be childish, or a jerk but I don’t know what else to do when all I want to do is talk to you,”

“Oh really?” I perked up a little bit ready to make my point taking a step away from Peter. “What about the time we were here drinking and you made a comment about how I was ‘acting different to impress people’? How romantic,” I poked feeling his logic start to crumble.

He let out a huff. “You’re not remembering that the way I am and yeah I shouldn’t have said that but you spent the entire night all over that xandarian guy,” he expressed stepping forward to grab my hand and pull me back in. “You know how much I wanted to punch that dude straight in the jaw every time he touched you? Why should he get to kiss you?” He seemed to be getting offended just remembering the night, and honestly a little heated.

“Peter,” I softly tried to intercept.

“No, I’ve been here this entire time. For years it’s been me here with you, we go on missions, we’ve explored new planets, had ups and downs, and I have to sit there and watch some guy kiss you? Some guy who just came along that same day, put no effort into his relationship with you and got you,” he rambled on with pain in his eyes. I hadn’t seen him show that much emotion over someone since gamora. “It’s not fair,”

I felt horrible for not seeing this sooner. I couldn’t help but rethink everything but at the same time he definitely went about this in the wrong way to get my attention. He got it alright but it was never good. To me he was just constantly nitpicking me and all the things I liked and it drove me crazy. I guess that’s the fault in miscommunication. A lot of the stuff was pretty dumb to get genuinely mad at, often he’d just tease my favorite movies or comment on my fighting skills. Nonetheless in this moment I felt truly sad for him. “I didn’t know…” he was focused very intently on every word I said and I could just tell the anticipation anxiety was eating him up. In reality this was a confession of his feelings. “If I would’ve known…” I trialed off not wanting to press further as I’ve never been very good at expressing my feelings.

“If you would’ve known then what?” He softly nudged me to continue. He took our interlocked hands and held it on his chest.

“I don’t know, things would’ve been different. I didn’t know that’s how you felt I just thought you hated me honestly,” I admitted awkwardly.

He exhaled with a frown. “I could never hate you, and that mission…“ he got softer watching my expression because he knew this topic was sore for me. “It didn’t matter to me that we failed, all I could think about was how I could’ve lost you,” he admitted keeping eye contact as he spoke. “I can’t lose anyone else, and I just miss what we used to be like.”

This confused me as what he’s referencing is our friendship back when he was with Gamora. Is he trying to say he wants to be friends or is he being romantic? He’s so hard to read sometimes, but his actions are telling me romance. Clearly he could see the confusion etched on my face because he clarified all my questions without ever having to hear them. “You know, how close we were. Cracking jokes, playing pranks on the rest of them,” he explained. “I want that. But… something a little different…” he seemed a little more awkward now like he didn’t know how to word what he felt.

“How different?” I asked feeling my heart pick up just a little bit. Perhaps MAYBE the reason I got so mad at everything Peter did was because MAYBE I valued his opinion, because MAYBE I was sort of always secretly into him.

He perked up at the question surprised I hadn’t shot it down right then and there. “Well,” he started while taking my hand and giving me a dramatic twirl. The guy is smooth. “Maybe a little romance, I’m thinking Jim and Pam,” he referenced my favorite Earth show as I’ve forced him to watch it after our trip there.

A mischievous smile found my lips at that. “Ohhhh, so someone was lying about not liking the show?” I teased in a ‘I told you so’ kinda way.

He chuckled at my call out. “I told ya Y/N, I just love to mess with you.”

“Hmm, fine but you have to watch rom coms with me,” I laid out my terms matter of factly.

His eyes widened. “Fine? Fine what? Fine to the romance?” He double checked as I hadn’t made myself all that clear.

“I GUESS,” I dramatically excepted in a fake disinterested tone.

“Well then Mrs. Y/N” he pulled me into him yet again wrapping his arms around my torso, though this time I let my hands rest on his chest. “I’m gonna romance the shit outta you,” he grinned that same cocky little grin that used to make me wanna smack him.

I rolled my eyes at his over confidence but was thrown off at him leaning in closer to me. I couldn’t find anything sassy or witty to remark because now all my focus was on the fact that Peter Quill’s lips were so close to mine. The lips of always secretly wanted to kiss. I let out a breath feeling the tension before he’d made the move to fully go in. He kissed me softly, and slowly. His hand cupped my cheek and when he pulled away he gave a real genuine smile.

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me” rocket yelled out from the doorway next to a very shocked Nebula.

“I give them a week tops,” she jokingly murmured but I could tell she was genuinely happy for us.

Rocket groaned from his place clearly fed up with the fact that he’d suffered through our bickering just for us to end up into each other. “If I’d known all you two jackasses needed to do was bang it out- WHY ARE THE EGGS BLACK?” He ran over to the stove to turn off the switch as if that would save the already far gone breakfast. “that’s TWO breakfasts down the drain, that’s it! I’m done! We’re getting fast food from knowhere,” he flailed his hands in the air and walked out of the room in defeat making the rest of us chuckle.

“I’m glad you two figured it out finally,” Nebula gave a small smile. “Really thought you were blind,” she dryly joked.

Peter and I looked at each other in confusion for a moment before smiling and accepting the fact that apparently we’d been obvious about our unknown feelings. With that she left the room to follow Rocket to the controls of the ship to fly us all to knowhere. This left Peter and I alone once more, he stared down at me in amusement. “I knew you were into me.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes for the millionth time, slipped my fingers into his and dragged him out to the main area of the ship preparing for the rest of the teams reactions.

—————

My first Peter Quill fan fic! Sorta rushed so I apologize for any errors! Let me know if I should make more!

#peter quill #enemies to lovers #peter quill x reader #gotg fanfiction #peter quill fanfic #peter quill x yn #starlord #starlord x reader #starlord fanfic #the guardians of the galaxy

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alpydk · 1 month

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Confessions

You asked for a sequel to Consequences so here I bring it.

Part 1 - Tav slept with Mizora, Gale left as we all know. Hate sex ensues at the epilogue party. That's it. Part 2 - They have another encounter - sex ensues. That's it.

Word Count - 3950 words CW - Angst/Smut - Happy ending ^^

The wedding invitation lay on the table, ivory parchment with a cherry red embossed trimming.

Karlach and Shadowheart... Baldur’s Gate... Elient...

It had been six months since the party where they had last met up, where Tav had last seen and spoke with Gale. She gritted her teeth at the memory, one of silver cups splayed in front of her, of her braid pulled taut behind her as he controlled her climax with a sense of dominance she had never seen before. “Now, my dear Tav. Say please.” She smirked to herself at the image of him behind her, his cock pressed against her, his eyes darkened with desire and anger. They had lain on that table for some time afterwards, their hearts beating in unison, an unspoken apology between them which remained unspoken. And now would soon come a wedding, an event that always came with drama of some sort.

Tav picked up the nearby quill, the decision of whether to attend or not posed at her fingertips. To see him again or not after what had last happened...

---

“Leaving so soon?” Gale felt the shift of Tav’s weight from next to him, her ebony braid dragging across his tunic before he had the chance to realise what was happening.

She stood, pulling her scarlet dress down to cover her legs more modestly than where it had been hoisted up to. “It’s getting early, and I’m meant to be back in the city before lunch.”

The warmth he’d known for only a short while had again gone, replaced with the icy walls and defensiveness they’d started the party with. Despite the admittance of why she’d ran to Mizora and now the understanding of where each of them stood, it was clear one night of drunken, angry sex upon an oak table wouldn’t be enough to bury the hatred that had been spat between them with such venom and loathing.

He let out an exasperated huff of annoyance. Once again pushed aside, being punished by the one he supposedly loved. Maybe at this point he was the problem, constantly finding women to fill a void left within. He was certain there was some psychological aspect in play forcing him to go for women similar to his own strong-willed mother, and the concept sickened him, or possibly it was that of the bottle of wine which flowed throughout his system. “Gods forbid something be more important...” he muttered under his breath. Did he even want to give what they had a chance? Was it worth the pain, the heartache?

Tav selectively ignored his words, her body already bristling, a slight hangover drifting in with the taunting sunrise. How could she have been so reckless, so desperate to have him? She shuddered at the thought. “Well, I’ll be seeing you, Gale,” she said, collecting her black lingerie from under the table.

He could see the curve of her arse as she bent over, his body betraying his mind in one fell swoop, and he took the chance of her back being turned to him to sit up and hastily tie the drawstrings on his trousers. A little tighter than normal, he remarked internally, making sure not to make the same mistake as some hours before. “You don’t think we should perhaps discuss-”

She cut him off before the words could even be produced from his wine-tinged lips. “A drunken mistake made by two lonely and desperate people. No different than it was at Moonrise.”

---

They didn’t speak after she had said those words, the harshness of them still causing her to hang her head in shame even now. That night at Moonrise had meant everything to her at one point, how they had admitted their love to one another, how he had conjured the soft bedsheets that smelt of lavender before worshipping her for hours in more ways than she could ever have dreamt of. Yet six months ago she was done, tired of their arguments, tired of Mystra and Mizora, but most of all, tired of him. She had to say it, the worst thing she could ever come up with, just to give them both finally a chance of moving on.

Her heart had broken behind her built up walls. She would not show him how guilty or hurt she was by all that had transpired. She’d simply brushed herself down and walked away from the campsite, her braid hanging down behind the scarlet dress she’d never wear again.

Since that night she had dated others, worked her way through numerous men and women looking for that same spark that ignited the flames within her, causing them to burn so brightly. She’s tried being submissive with a few, allowing them to order her around, praise her, punish her if that’s what they desired, but none came close to how he had been that night with her. The sensation lived under her skin. It swelled with the memories of him: his dark eyes, firm hands gripping her hips, a voice that controlled her very essence.

As she glanced at the invitation, she let out a deep breath and stretched out her back. She knew she would have to be there, two of her closest friends finally tying the knot, Karlach’s infernal engine fixed after almost a year in Avernus battling for her life. Tav also knew though that he would be there too, dressed in his finest, his heart once again stitched back together after the damage she had done. Black ink flowed onto the parchment, soaking through a tad before she removed the quill. The date was set, the confirmation given, the anxiety building with the thoughts of what was left of the man she’d once loved.

---

The sun was slowly setting over the small chapel on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate. It was a modest church, large enough for a small party of friends and family, far enough away from the city that the sound of hustle and bustle could not reach it. Its white wooden doors lay open, welcoming a soon to be married couple and their guests, and with it came a light wind blowing autumn leaves into the aisle.

Gale sat alone inside on a pew. He’d been the first to arrive, and it seemed only suitable to check over the readings for the ceremony: selected poems he knew all too well. Admiring the red lilies and night orchids, which had been woven together, creating elaborate floral displays over the altar and around the confessionals, he couldn’t help but think. The colours complimented one another well, the crimson shades merging with the hints of purple. His mind drifted back to his old, tattered robes, the cherry red shirt that often lay with them in the corner of his tent as the sun rose during their travels. Nights devoted to making her smile.

He shifted uncomfortably, moving his attention to his suit. He’d gone away from purples long ago, Mystra’s influence tainting the colour with reminders of their weave touched relationship and for this occasion he had decided that simple was best. The black waistcoat he had chosen showed the physique he had been working on the last few months, his forearms toned and displayed from a navy shirt as he rolled the sleeves to a comfortable level.

He was already feeling the nerves, ones that he had tried to shift so many times in the last few weeks, and as his fingertips drifted to unbuttoning his collar, he knew it wasn’t likely to pass easily just by sitting and waiting for company. He rose from his seat, rolling his shoulders to relieve the tension, and looked to the main doors of the chapel where moonlight was making its appearance. Soon the others would arrive, but now he needed to stretch his legs and enjoy the little peace that was available.

As the cool breeze blew through the waves of his hair, he spotted Tav walking up the quiet path towards him. Her head was faced away from his, her eyes drawn to the line of wildflowers that grew along the verge. She looked as beautiful as she ever had. Her dark hair hung down around her shoulders, silver beads placed in thin braids glistened as they caught light. Tav had kept her pattern of wearing red; this time, her short figure-hugging dress replaced with one that pinched her waist but flared out at the base. Her pale legs were still on display just as they’d been at the party and for a moment, he was dragged back to the memory of running his hands up those thighs as he’d done so many times before.

He turned his back on her, choosing instead to walk around the other side of the chapel, hoping that before she noticed him, others would arrive, and their interaction could be kept at a safe minimum. He would not make the same mistake as last time.

---

“And now we will hear a brief poetry reading from Gale.” Astarion made sure to emphasise just how brief it would be as he left his position at the altar. Despite it being over two hundred years since his position of magistrate, somehow Baldarian law still gave him the allowance to operate and, as such, he had found himself in the unfortunate position of officiating the wedding of his two old friends. He stepped aside, letting Gale taking charge, hearing the nervous heartbeat that beat so relentlessly.

There were few guests in attendance who weren’t already at the party six months previously, but something about standing before them all, speaking words of love and commitment, filled him with an emotion he wished would vanish. A part of him knew this should have been his day, where the poem read would instead have been vows spoken with devotion to the one he loved. If only they had simply talked to one another.

“Good evening, my dear friends. It’s been some time once again since we last gathered like this. It’s good to see you all.” His eyes passed briefly over Tav; the words meant more for her than anyone in sitting in the room. He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Well-” A nervous breath caught him, but it was enough to help him focus his attention. “For this most splendorous of occasions, I have indeed prepared a short poem which I would like to present to our most beautiful of couples.”

Karlach and Shadowheart stood before him, their hands entwined, their eyes glued on one another. The world around them may not have existed as they gazed lovingly at one another, a way in which Gale himself had once looked at Tav. His smile at them briefly turned sad before he shifted the memory and moved on quickly to reading.

His eyes met Tav’s as she watched, words originally meant for her now spoken openly. He hoped she knew this was for her, how despite everything, despite the anger and the heartbreak, it was always for her.

She glanced away from him, a rogue tear escaping her, which she was quick to wipe away. His deep brown eyes glistened under the moonlight, and she wished things could be different between them. How they both wished all this could be different, how the longed-for apologies could be said between one another. How they wished they could find a way back to one another.

---

The ceremony ended, and Karlach and Shadowheart were eager to leave after accepting congratulations from everyone, a quick passing comment about seeing stars heard by a few at the exit to the chapel. Tav stood by the simple altar, rolling the petals of the lilies between her fingertips, lost in her own thoughts of the wedding and all that had occurred.

“A lovely evening, don’t you think?”

Gale’s tentative voice brought her back to reality, her hand quickly drawn from the flowers. Within the hallowed walls of the church, she did not want to fight as they had done the previous times, instead she kept herself quiet, hesitant, and watchful of his actions.

“Hm. It was. Your poetry was very...” She pondered over the words, trying to find something that would explain how much she enjoyed it, but not strong enough that he would see through to the emotions that had been sitting on her sleeve all evening. “...well written.”

He stepped closer to her, and he noticed the way her dress caught with the breeze from the open door, allowing him to catch sight of her inner thigh. “Well, it seemed an important occasion to put in a little more effort into rather than my previous dabbles with poetry.”

“I’m sure they both appreciated it.” Tav could feel as he grew closer to her, her eyes catching on the way he seemed leaner since their last meeting. His body seemed firmer, his trousers snugger upon his groin, the shirt hugging his upper arms in a way that made her want to bite her lower lip. She kept her composure. “You look really well, Gale.”

“I took some time after our last encounter to work on myself a little.”

“Well, it suits you.”

At the altar they stood facing one another, moonlight shining through the small windows, autumn leaves blown along the aisle. She looked up into his eyes, her heart beating in anticipation after what had occurred at the party. It felt as if something were in the air, a powerful force that could not be resisted drawing her to him each time they met, but this time, the anger was muted within the sacred walls.

Gale lifted his hand, brushing a lock of her ebony hair behind her ear, his touch soft and cautious, as if they were together at Moonrise once again and he was expecting rejection. “Tav...”

Just as last time she interrupted him, but this time not with venom filled words. Instead, she brought her lips to his, a resignation to the surrounding forces which bound their souls together. He responded in kind, a hand brought to her cheek and holding her steady, the other grasped to the fabric of her dress and pulling her hips towards his. He broke off the kiss, letting out a shaky breath, searching her eyes for the certainty that this was what she wanted.

She drew herself towards him again, an answer to his unspoken question, flushed lips on his in wanting, but when he did not return her kiss, she pulled back, a hint of rejection she did not wish to show lingering in her mind. “We both know how this is going to end,” she said, desire in her eyes.

“Precisely. We do.” Gale’s grasp on her hip loosened ever so slightly, the hand on her cheek moved lightly to her hair, his fingers curling between the locks. “We’ll share in each other’s bodies and as our souls return to their cages, we will part, just as we have before.”

“So, this is it? The end of everything?”

He looked to the braids in her hair, to how they twisted and turned just like that of the Weave he was so fond of. Everything in him screamed to let go of her, to walk away and never see her again, to find peace. But his heart whispered amongst the din. It ignored the arguments; it ignored the hateful comments they had shared; it ignored the lust. There were only the nights before Mizora, ones where he and Tav had lain simply together, her hand on his chest, their hearts beating together in sync. There had been unsaid acts of love before and after they’d even admitted their feelings, the day where she had held him close after Elminster had told him of his doomed fate, the night where they had simply cried together after Bhaal had killed her and she’d been born anew. How had so many moments vanished with that one mistake? How had so much hate been born from what was once unbound love?

“Gale, tell me. Is this it? If it is, I’ll accept.” Tav’s words were honest, the exhaustion she had felt six months ago bursting through. She didn’t want to fight anymore; she had no fight left in her. All she wanted was to move on, to know he could move on.

His gaze went from the braids to her eyes, moistened, reflecting the moonlight. The whisper grew into a shout that he could no longer ignore. It couldn’t end this way. They found one another again, a tenderness not shared in so long as hands moved from tight clasping to gentle strokes, as passionate kisses were replaced with delicate exploration. He found himself pushing her backwards, the confessional booth the only place of any privacy within the chapel. She was pushed up against the white door of it, the scarlet lilies brushing over her shoulder as she nudged open the door with the base of her heel.

There was little room and even less light behind the closed door, and Tav was quick to shift Gale onto the small bench that met them. “Forgive me, father...”

“Oh, none of that, my love. We do not plan to draw the eyes of any deities in here.”

She pressed herself onto him, feeling the growing bulge under his trousers, grinding her hips into him, allowing her own body to react with need. “Not much room in here.”

Gale smirked. He knew exactly what she spoke of as he felt the ache of his erection pushing on the tight fabric, but for once last time he play with her. “Well, there’d be more room if you hadn’t gained weight.”

“Prick.” Tav scowled, before slipping her tongue into his mouth, finding his and sucking it with wanton desire.

He reacted in kind, his hands moving up under her legs and positioning her straddled across his lap. As she arched herself into him, rubbing herself down against him, she released the slightest of moans and he could feel the way she quivered with each rock of her hips. He brought a hand further up her thigh, dipping under the cloth of her skirt and tracing the lace of her underwear.

A soft mewl told him how heated she was already, how she chased her climax so readily upon his lap. His fingers danced above the fabric, tracing a line down her cunt, feeling as she leaned into his hand instinctively. He released her mouth from his, letting her bury her head into the crook of his neck, heated breaths poured onto his skin. “You’re so eager, as always.”

“Only with you... Only ever with you,” she gasped, feeling as his fingertips slipped onto her naked flesh, languid lines becoming rhythmic circles where she needed them most. Her heart raced, her eyes closed, and all she could do was savour the moments as her wants and needs became a blessed reality. “Gods, Gale...”

A part of him was tempted to tease her as he had last time, a consequence of all she had done, but as she whimpered into him, his name on her desperate lips, all he wanted was more of her, to give to her again as he had done so long ago, to worship her, to love her. He increased his pace, listening as whimpers became moans, as she pulled her head back and bucked herself shamelessly into his hand.

She felt herself nearing her edge, felt the familiar swelling almost at breaking point, the knowledge that it was him doing this to her spurring her on and making it impossible to resist any longer. “Gale...” she gasped through parted lips. Looking down at him in the low-lit confession booth was all it took for the thin strand of control to snap, her orgasm hitting hard and fast, her muscles tensing and clenching. His hand was removed, but with that, she found herself perched again over his lap, his trousers appearing visibly uncomfortable as she lowered herself onto them, trying to ground herself as the world spun around her.

Gale sighed as she sat atop him, her breath slowly returning to normal. He was remaining patient, wanting each second to span an eternity should it all come crashing down again around them. It wasn’t long though before her hands found the rim of his trousers, tugging at them, and letting her mouth return to his. Very little time was spent taunting with what he had that she wanted more of, his trousers and underwear pulled down, hers left abandoned around one ankle and her dress hoisted up over his lap as she straddled him once again.

Through gritted teeth, he spoke as she hovered above him. “I have something to confess.”

“A little on the nose, don’t you think?” Tav purred, lowering herself onto him, sighing as her body adjusted to his size within her. She’d never forgotten how good he felt, never found anything that compared to him.

He breathed through the relaxed roll of her hips, but noted the way her arousal was building quicker with each thrust into her. “Maybe... but now or never...”

His words were falling on death ears as her hands explored the sides of his abdomen, more toned than six months ago, less to grip, but the sight made her wish she had the composure to remove his waistcoat and shirt, to see what lay beneath, teasing her. She wanted to reply, but words were escaping her, his rhythm, his angle, the forearm that held her close as she arched her body into him, wanting more of him, needing more.

A firm hand gripped her hip, preventing her from writhing, allowing him to plunge into her more firmly, to let him feel every needed bit of her. “I love you, Tav...”

The words hit her hard, the confession that he still loved her even after everything making her heartbeat quicken, her climax upon her in an instance.

He felt as she tightened around him, her walls contracting, putting pressure on him. His movements became more demanding, more focused as he sought his own release. Whispered words met his ears, words of love and care, confessions of her own singing out through satisfied breaths. His hips snapped into her, the bench beneath and her above giving little room for him to leave her fully, just a constant pressure wrapped around him, bringing him to his precipice.

The more he rutted into her, the more she began to whine, wave after wave of pleasure, an orgasm ending only to lead into another as one of his hands once again found her sensitive bundle of nerves. “I love you... I love you...” she screamed out from the confines of the enclosed stall.

Those words, the admission of truth were all it took. Gale gripped her closely, his body jerking as he spilled himself into her. Her neck was on his lips in seconds, the salted taste of her sweat upon his tongue welcome as aftershocks caused him to convulse into her further. With each one came another gasped moan, soon growing quieter and quieter as both relaxed into one another’s gentle embrace.

They held each other for some time in the darkened shadows of the confessional, as moonlight became the lazy rise of a sun within the chapel. They had shared how they both felt, forgiven each other without spoken apologies, shared their love just as they had once done. For now, all they had was this one night, one under stars and shadows of a stall, amongst scarlet lilies and dark purple night orchids. Talking could come later.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #bg3 fanfiction #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale bg3 #galemance #consequences sequel #no more #pls be satisfied

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lockewrites · 1 year

Text

Reader giving Halsin a massage

Reader (gender not specified) x Halsin || Semi-NSFW (suggestive) || 1332 words AO3

POST-GAME SPOILERS FOR HALSIN

From @thecaptainsassistant (it won't let me properly tag you D:) - Hi, I saw you posted recently about HalsinxReader oneshots and was wondering if you'd be willing to write one with a human femReader ranger giving Halsin a back-rub (can be any degree of citrus rating you like). Have a lovely day!

You find yourself watching him without meaning to, your eyes often idly drifting to his form whenever he’s near and his attention is not yours to claim. A book had been keeping you company for some time as you sought quiet from the bustle of refugees attempting to reclaim some semblance of stability in Thaniel’s realm, but Halsin rarely stops for breath. Constantly hurrying from place to place, ensuring all were taken care of; exhausting to watch, let alone experience, but it warms your heart all the same… as well as casts worry in your mind.

Hunched over his desk, his hand moves fiercely back and forth as he pens his thoughts and plans, always anticipating the next step, the possible consequences, whose skills would suit the task best. The quill against the scroll echoes in the room, and you can’t help but shake your head. He simply never stops.

The book closes with a soft thump, and you place it on the end table before approaching Halsin. As you near, his posture shifts, straightening and turning slightly to glance at you from the corner of his gaze. Even with the weight of this new responsibility, the distractions and obligations, he never loses sight of you.

“What is it, my heart?” he asks, the scratching of the quill finally halting.

You rest your backside against the edge of his desk and look down at him, one of the few times you don’t need to crane your neck to meet his hazel eyes. Reaching out, your fingers cup his jaw, your palm on his chin as your thumb trails across his lips. Gaze taking him in, you note the shadows beneath his eyes, the tinge of pink in his sclera, and a new heaviness in the rise and fall of his breaths.

“You need to rest,” you say, voice quiet yet firm.

“I will,” he replies as he presses a fleeting kiss against your thumb.

“Now,” you insist, gripping his chin gently, as if to punctuate the word.

Halsin smiles, but it’s not enough to hide the weariness that holds him. He places the quill in the inkpot as his other hand rests on your thigh; you know the movement well, an attempt at distracting you from your concerns. Not a promise of intimacy, as that would draw him away from his duties, but an intimate enough gesture he knows has an effect on you. You can’t think of your worry for him if you’re too focused on his touch, what those fingers have done, what those fingers could do.

Your eyes flicker to his hand before returning to his gaze; your expression is wholly unimpressed.

“I will be finished shortly,” he promises.

He’s an honest man and would typically never dare make such false utterances toward you, but the integrity is pliant when it comes to his own well-being. It’s a lie he’s told you numerous times, and after the first few, you learned it’s never ‘shortly.’

You’re not without your own techniques, however. Pushing off the desk, you step behind him, your hand sliding down his neck and resting just beneath his collarbones as the other joins it; your arms around him, his warmth spilling into your chest as you embrace him from behind.

His muscles shift beneath you as he leans back and places his hands over yours, the tautness in his movements noticeable even through your clothing.

You slip your hands from his and move them to his shoulders, giving a tentative squeeze before kneading the hard flesh under your fingers.

An involuntary groan escapes him, his head falling forward in an instant.

“It’ll take me longer if you continue distracting me,” he warns, though the way his head sways ever-slightly as your fingers work at his stressed muscles betrays the insincerity in his words.

A smile plays on your lips, knowing he won’t deny you much longer. Halsin had always been so pliant under your touch, though it wasn’t until more recently you had realized. Leaning down, your lips press against the back of his neck, the sun-kissed skin warm and filling your senses with hints of oak and herbs; you breathe him in, the scent having become your home after all you’d been through.

Your hands continue massaging away his stress, earning you more poorly stifled moans. He’s losing this battle, and you both know it.

Halsin’s loose hair falls over your fingers as his head tips backward; he looks at you with that hazel gaze, his eyes holding a mix of adoration and exasperation.

With a smirk, you lower your face to his, claiming a kiss that he immediately melts into.

“Come on,” you insist after you pull away. “And I’ll finish what I started.”

He blinks at you a few times before sighing and pushing away from the desk.

Taking his hand, you lead him to the bed but stop him before he can sit. You undo the laces of his tunic, pushing the fabric to the floor and exposing his beautiful torso. After a greedy glance, you motion for him to lie down as you pull a bottle of oil from your nightstand.

“On your stomach.” Your voice is soft but commanding, and he obeys with a chuckle.

Once he’s settled, you climb onto the bed and straddle his thick waist, letting most of your weight rest against him.

“Not often I’m the one face down on the bed,” Halsin remarks, and though you can’t see it, you hear the smile in his voice.

You hum and tilt your head, admiring him beneath you. “It’s quite a view,” you reply as you rub the oil between your fingers.

The smell of lavender and orchid fills the air as you press your fingers into his skin; it doesn’t take long to find knots, the weight of rebuilding Reithwin and caring for those brought over from Baldur’s Gate heavy on his broad shoulders. While the land healed and continues to do so, and Halsin and you escape the town on occasion and venture into the land’s wilderness, it’s not quite enough to free either of you, but especially Halsin, of the constant worries that come with such a responsibility.

He doesn’t speak, and other than his occasional relaxed hum that vibrates beneath your hands, the room is quiet. Peaceful and withdrawn enough that it feels as though you two are in your own world, and you adore these moments. Halsin is hesitant to express such sentiments, but you know he would have collapsed under the pressure he places upon himself if not for these escapes.

You pay no mind to the time past, only stopping once your fingers and arm risk giving out.

He peeks backward at you. “Finished already?” he teases as you shake out your arms.

There was once a time he’d have fought you on pampering him so, but it was a fight he soon conceded when he learned you would never give up and it makes you happy; not to mention, it provides an excuse for him to return the favor, though he rarely needs one as he’s always seeking ways to pleasure you, whether innocently or intimately.

His back arches in, the muscles rippling as he stretches under you. Your legs lift you upward as you move to get off him, and in a moment, he flips onto his back and grabs your hips, forcing you to stay in place. For such a large elf, you never cease to be amazed at how dexterously he moves.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Halsin asks, smirking and raising a brow.

Tilting your head, you return the smile. “I figured you’d want to get right to sleep after such an exhaustive massage.”

His eyebrows shift and furrow, his fingers sliding down across your thighs and sending immediate heat through you.

“First,” he begins, his eyes traveling up your body, only serving to fill your cheeks with warmth, “I must show my thanks properly.”

#halsin #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #halsin x tav #halsin x reader #reader x halsin #tav x halsin #halsin bg3 #bg3 halsin #baldur's gate #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #//I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OMFG but it was so fun to write :3 #alxxiis actually wrote something #fic: treasures the night bestows

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forthetwins · 7 months

Text

george weasley — the art of longing.

"you alright?" fred nudged his brother, trying to break him out of his trance. but george didn't budge.

in the bustling corridors of hogwarts, george weasley found himself staring at you as you moved through the crowds with your mates, effortlessly with your laughter like music in the air which everyone adored.

yet, george felt a pang of longing every time he saw you, knowing you seemed closer to his twin than to him — although it was only his belief.

as george watched you interact with your friends, a sense of longing gnawed at him. he wished to be one of your friends — or maybe something more — but that's for later.

he wished he could at least be courageous like his twin who had no problem walking up to you and initiating a conversation.

"you're not still pining after y/n, are you?" fred chuckled, slinging an arm around george's shoulder.

"nah, she's just...she seems to get along better with you, that's all." george says, trying to play it cool.

fred raised an eyebrow. "you're reading too much into it, mate. she's just friendly. besides, you've got your own charms. maybe you should try talking to her sometime."

"yeah, easier said than done," george muttered, feeling a twinge of envy as he recalls watching you laugh at something fred said before.

in the dimly lit classroom of defence against the dark arts class, the professor was conspicuously absent, leaving the students to idle restlessly in their seats.

you, feeling the weight of exhaustion from a long night of studying, couldn't resist the temptation to steal a few moments of shut-eye. so you decided to take a nap.

unbeknownst to you, george, always one for mischief, noticed your peaceful slumber. his gaze lingered on your arm — a canvas awaiting inspiration.

he began to doodle using magic: using his finger to dance the quill across your skin, tracing whimsical patterns and playful designs on your arm.

as he finished doodling, he went back to his seat beside fred when the professor seems to be late for class.

after the class finally ended and you emerged from your brief nap, stretching and rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you notice the whimsical designs adorning your arm.

confusion furrowed your brow as you glanced around the room, wondering who could have been responsible for the unexpected artwork.

turning to your friends, you raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "did any of you see who did this?" you asked, gesturing to your arm.

your friends exchanged puzzled looks, shrugging in response. "not a clue," one of them replied. "though, knowing fred, he's always up to something."

a pang of envy surged through george as he watched you and fred engaged in conversation. his heart sank as he noticed the playful dynamic between you, the easy laughter and familiar banter that seemed to come effortlessly to his twin.

but it was the sight of you playfully pinching fred's cheek that truly twisted the knife in george's heart — a surge of jealousy washed over him as he watched the playful interaction, a bitter reminder of how effortlessly you seemed to connect with his twin.

the next class — in divination, you found yourself seated next to george, a departure from the usual arrangement where you sat with fred.

sensing an opportunity to address the mysterious doodles on your arm, you casually pulled up your sleeve, revealing the playful designs to george.

"pretty drawing, isnt it?" you remark lowly.

george glanced at the doodles, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of his handiwork adorning your skin. "yeah, fred did that when you were asleep," he says with his tone nonchalant.

you chuckled at his response, a teasing glint in your eyes. "am i sitting with the wrong twin here?"

george couldn't help but feel a surge of hope at your teasing remark, a flicker of possibility igniting within him. summoning his courage, he met your gaze, "perhaps you are," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

your eyes softened, "well then, maybe it's time i got to know the right twin," you said, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

"hmn?"

"what's on your mind, george weasley?" you whisper.

"what are you on?" he questions in a low voice.

"tell me what you want from me,"

"go out with me,"

you gasp quietly, "go out with you?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart fluttering with uncertainty, "done,"

a grin spread across george's face, his eyes lighting up with joy and relief. "done? really? you mean it?"

you nodded, returning his smile with one of your own. "yes, i mean it. i'd love to go out with you, george,"

as the class continued, george found himself engaged in quiet conversations with you, holding your hand under the table, the barriers of shyness slowly melting away as you shared laughs and exchanged stories.

by the end of the lesson, george realized that perhaps he didn't need to compete with his twin for your attention after all.

he had his own charm, his own quirks that made him unique. and as you bid him farewell with a smile, promising to sit with him again in the next class, george couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of confidence blooming within him.

as he watched you walk away, the weight of envy and insecurity lifted from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of anticipation for the moments yet to come.

for george weasley, the future suddenly seemed brighter, filled with endless possibilities and the promise of a friendship — or maybe something more — with you by his side.

#forthetwins — writings #george weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #fred weasley x y/n #george weasley x you #fred weasley x you #george weasley #fred weasley #george x reader #fred x reader #harry potter

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turvi · 9 months

Note

Hi beautifulll! Could you write a piece were student reader x professor Severus are in long secret relationship - and imagine Harry and reader are in the great hall during lunch talking to each other in hushed voices etc trying to not make too much of a fuss but you can tell something is wrong, which Severus notices. And then Harry gets up and storms out of the hall with reader running to follow. Later they both end up coming in late to their Potions class, to which Severus just eyes them weirdly before taking points away ofc. Anyway after the class is over he asks reader to stay back and asks her what’s going on. She doesn’t tell and then says that Harry confessed he likes her. Severus gets upset and makes a comment about the potter boys always taking his loved ones any from him before reader comforts him and then it’s just pure fluff of them both comforting one another :) sorry ik it’s long was just ranting my thoughts out!

Severus loathed this feeling. His grip tightened around his quill as he saw Y/n laughing with Harry. Y/n’s laughter used to sound like honey in his ears when he was the reason she laughed but now it pricked his heart how that dunderhead was making his girl laugh. Severus hated how beautiful she looked as she smiled at Harry. He wanted to be the only one who saw her smile like that.

His brows furrowed deeper when he saw Harry whisper in Y/n’s ear. The voices in the Great Hall faded and he felt a tinge in his chest as he saw them leave the Great Hall. Severus felt a sense of deja vu. This was how he had started to lose Lily. This is how he will lose Y/n. He will no longer feel her soft fingers on his skin, he will no longer see her looking at him in so much love, and he will no longer hear her humming as he slowly falls asleep.

Severus got up abruptly and went to the Potions classroom even though he had 30 minutes for the next class. He couldn’t be in front of so many people while his heart was breaking with mere thoughts of Y/n being with Harry. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t realise when the students came in. He cleared his throat and started looking for her as everyone settled. There was no sign of Harry or Y/n. That was it. He had lost her.

He was about to turn his back when he saw the door open and Y/n and Harry entering the classroom. Severus noticed how she avoided his gaze, looking everywhere but at him. His booming voice made everyone jump. “30 points each from Gryffindor.” He didn’t bother speaking much and turned his attention to teaching the class ignoring his heartache as he saw Harry glancing at Y/n now and then.

Severus was so involved in his thoughts that he didn’t realise the minutes passed and the class was over. He held back his scoff as he saw the students hurriedly collecting their belongings in their bags. As usual, his onyx eyes found Y/n, he walked closer to her desk “Miss L/n stay back…we need to have a conversation about your…performance” he demanded and Y/n felt a shiver down her spine. She felt her throat dry when she saw his cold gaze on her.

As soon as the last student left Severus put his palms on her desk. “Why were you late L/n?” Y/n felt her heart clench as she heard him say her last name with such coldness…as if she didn’t mean anything to him.

She took a shuddered breath and finally spoke up, “Harry…he…he said he…he….has a crush on…me” Y/n noticed him clenching his jaw and immediately cupped his cheek. Her touch brought Severus out of his rage daze.

“These buffoon Potter boys are always trying to take my love away from me” Severus huffed and started picking his nails. Y/n gently placed her hand in his, kissing the back of his hand.

“But he didn’t Severus,” she spoke so softly it immediately eased his heart, as if he didn’t need to hear anything else, “Harry can’t take me away from you…not when I am so stubborn and so terribly in love with you that I am willing to stand by you no matter how rough life gets for us.”

Us. That was a word Severus had barely heard. Any sense of family was lost for him when he lost Lily but now when he looks into Y/n’s eyes and can feel her hand in his, he feels complete. Severus couldn’t help but smile at the idea of having someone being there for him, someone he could rely on.

Before tears could leave his eyes he placed his forehead on hers, closing his eyes. Enjoying her presence, the feeling of her breath made him feel like someone had now wrapped a warm blanket around him to save him from the harsh cold.

“No words can explain how thankful I am for your presence” he couldn’t keep his hands back from touching her, her smile only encouraging him more. “I am so terribly in love with you too.”

Her giggles warmed him up more, his heart beating wildly in his chest as she peppered kisses all over his face.

A/N: I apologise for the long delay (I got this request in July eshh.) too much happened this year and now I am back feeling fresh after a hectic few months. Again so sorry for the delay I have so many more stories and I will post them soon. <3

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princessanonymous · 9 months

Text

When Night Comes

Platonic Yandere Vampire

Previous Part | Next Part

First Chapter

7. 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓭𝓮

The governess had begun her tutelage several weeks ago, immersing (Y/n) in a world of etiquette, reading, writing, and history. (Y/n)'s nights unfolded like the pages of a meticulously crafted novel as the governess wove a tapestry of refinement and knowledge around her. In the vast library that echoed with the whispers of ancient books, (Y/n) delved into the intricacies of literature, guided by the cold and rigorous teacher.

To make things more intense, she had been attending dance lessons with the vampire. As twilight enveloped the mansion, (Y/n) exchanged her quill for dance shoes, stepping into a realm where elegance and danger danced in tandem. The vampire nobleman led her through a series of intricate steps under the flickering candlelight of the chandelier. Each movement was a symphony of precision. The vampire was truly a demanding instructor. After each lesson, her feet ached, and the simple act of walking became an arduous task. The nobleman had relentlessly drilled her in dance, squeezing months of instruction into mere weeks.

Before the sun dipped below the horizon, casting its last golden rays upon the world, he roused (Y/n) from her slumber with an urgency that hinted at the gravity of the impending event. In the soft glow of dawn, he requested that she don her most exquisite evening gown, a garment he had purchased just for these types of occasions.They were to attend a grand ball, a rare outing that (Y/n) was looking forward to after her time of confinement within the manor's walls.

Following a soothing bath, a maid arrived to assist her in dressing. The process was notably more time-consuming tonight due to the intricate hairstyle and the numerous layers of her dress. Her gown was an exquisite blend of black and crimson, exuding an air of sophistication. She wore long gloves that extended up to her elbows, and a glistening ruby necklace adorned her neck. A red bow adorned her hair, and she completed the look with dainty satin red shoes.

"We will be departing soon, child," she heard the vampire call from the corridor outside her bedroom. "You ought to be prepa—" His sentence hung in the air, unfinished, as he stepped into the room and abruptly came to a standstill, his eyes fixated on (Y/n).

(Y/n) flinched as she wondered if she had inadvertently done something wrong, causing the vampire's sudden pause. He, however, broke the silence with an unexpected smile—a genuine one that reached the depths of his crimson-tinged eyes.

The vampire closed the distance between them, his movements deliberate yet filled with an odd warmth. A fondness colored his words as he addressed her. "Oh, my dear doll," he beamed, his voice full of fondness. "Crimson suits you impeccably. Smile for me," he gushed, his fingers delicately cupping her face, as if sculpting a moment in time.

His reaction was entirely unexpected, and she had never witnessed him being so effusive. The vampire's gaze, once intense and inscrutable, softened into something akin to paternal affection. With a subtle nod, (Y/n) complied, summoning a hesitant yet genuine smile to grace her features. She attempted to swat his hands away, but his genuine enthusiasm was uncontainable as he continued to coo and lavish her with compliments.

The vampire's smile widened, his satisfaction evident. "There, my dear, that is the spirit," he praised, his tone a melodic cadence that echoed in the room. “You look so much better when you behave.”

The vampire's outfit matched hers as he was wearing a red and black frock coat paired with a high-collared vest with silver buttons. As accessories, he wore short cream-white satin gloves and a single-layer jabot with a ruby brooch.

They eventually left the manor, once the man had stopped gushing about her clothing. As (Y/n) walked out. The moon was bright in the cloudless sky and stars shone brightly. The night was a bit chilly and she felt a cold breeze in the air.

A grand black carriage and a coachman were waiting for them by the entrance. She marveled at the beautiful horses. They were tall and imposing, one was black and the other was white. (Y/n) tried approaching them, then the vampire slapped her hand away and tutted. She glared, rubbing her hand to soothe it as they entered the carriage.

As the carriage journeyed toward their destination, (Y/n) couldn't help but confess, "I've never been to a ball before," she admitted with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, her eyes reflecting the glint of uncertainty. "I hope I won't make a fool out of myself."

"Do not concern yourself with such matters," the nobleman dismissed with a lazy, yet elegant wave of his hand. "You've learned everything you need to know, and you shall fit in perfectly."

Her gaze met his, finding solace in the conviction of his words. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, a flicker of gratitude for the guidance he had provided in the weeks leading up to this momentous night. With a subtle nod, (Y/n) redirected her eyes on the road for the rest of the journey.

The carriage came to a regal halt in front of the grand estate. It loomed like a castle in the moonlit night. (Y/n), stepping out onto the cobblestone courtyard, couldn't shake the feeling of déjà vu as the estate's dark and gloomy façade reminded her of the mansion where she had resided for the previous months. As she was observing the place, she wondered if all aristocratic residences were eerie.

They approached the entrance gates, where vigilant guards admitted them upon presentation of the vampire's invitation. Proceeding toward the colossal entrance doors, they were momentarily halted by a figure standing next to a butler.

"Duke de Beauvoir," he greeted politely. A subtle hush fell upon the conversation as he leaned in, adding in a voice barely above a whisper, "Madame Rossignol has been eagerly anticipating your arrival."

With the vampire's hand resting on (Y/n)'s shoulder, she only faintly registered the conversation, her mind wandering elsewhere. The duke's lips tightened as he responded, an undercurrent of frustration palpable in his tone, "This woman is quite persistent."

"As you are aware," the other nobleman continued, "with your companion's frequent absences, people are starting to inquire."

He squeezed (Y/n)'s shoulder absentmindedly. "I wasn't aware you had taken up the habit of conversing with coffee-sisters*, Marquis de Sauge," he inquired with an icy demeanor, his gaze piercing through the veil of polite exchanges.

The marquis, momentarily taken aback, appeared somewhat affronted. "Not at all," he hastily clarified. "I merely wanted to inform you that Madame Rossignol still maintains her interest."

A flicker of annoyance crossed the duke's expression. "I am not interested in that harlot," he responded with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Thank you for the warning, Marquis de Sauge," he stated, effectively closing the conversation and dismissing the man, who seemed to have received the unspoken message.

The butler approached, extending a red ribbon to the vampire. He declined it, squeezing (Y/n)'s shoulder once more. "She is accompanying me," he declared firmly, a possessive edge in his tone that piqued (Y/n)'s intrigue.

The butler nodded, replacing the red ribbon with a black one. The vampire graciously accepted it and turned to her. He tied it in a delicate bow around her neck, ensuring it was neither too tight nor too loose.

His face morphed into a somber expression and he said darkly : "Under no circumstances are you to remove this."

She nodded, gulping slightly. She entered beside him, taking her first steps into this breathtaking place. This place was truly a sight to behold. (Y/n) stepped through the opulent doors of the grand ballroom, her heart aflutter with a mixture of awe and trepidation. The ballroom itself was a masterpiece. Crystal chandeliers hung from the gilded ceiling, casting a warm, golden glow over the throngs of elegantly dressed guests. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries that told the stories of the aristocracy's history, each thread spun with tales of grandeur and wealth. The very air seemed to shimmer with anticipation, carrying the faint scent of delicate perfumes and fine wines.

The strains of a waltz filled the room, courtesy of a live orchestra that played with such precision and grace that (Y/n) felt as though she had stepped into a world of magic. The dancers, resplendent in their lavish attire, twirled and swayed in perfect harmony, their graceful movements a testament to the elegance that defined high society.

(Y/n) couldn't help but be overblown by the sheer spectacle of it all. She watched in wide-eyed wonder as the rich and powerful whirled around her, their laughter and conversation like music in itself. She, a mere peasant girl, now stood on the cusp of a life she had only ever imagined, surrounded by beauty, refinement, and the intoxicating allure of the ballroom.

Yet, (Y/n) couldn't shake a growing unease that had settled within her. After mere seconds, she understood why. The guests, who had appeared so elegant and refined, now seemed to be hiding a dark secret. Their movements, appearing graceful and enchanting, were too fluid and eerily silent, their smiles revealing an unsettling gleam in their eyes. The orchestra's melodies that had filled her heart with wonder now carried an ominous undertone, a discordant symphony that sent shivers down her spine. The red drinks were served by servants and then there were the sharp, incisive glances exchanged between the guests, a silent communication that betrayed their shared, hidden nature.

Her heart pounded with terror as the grand ballroom transformed into a surreal nightmare, the once-elegant figures now revealed as creatures of the night. (Y/n)'s grip tightened on the duke's arm, her fingers clinging to him in a desperate bid for reassurance. Trembling, she sought refuge, instinctively hiding behind him as if the vampire's presence could shield her from his kind.

"They're..." The word caught in her throat, the unspeakable truth lingering in the air.

In a hushed tone that cut through the disconcerting whispers of the undead gathering, he whispered, "They will know you are meant to be treated properly." His fingers, gentle as a whisper, traced the black ribbon around her neck. It was a silent promise of protection.

______________

*: A 19th-century term for “malignant gossipers,” according to this website.

#platonic yandere #yandere platonic #yandere vampire #yandere father #obsession #yandere #vampire #platonic #x reader #female reader #reader insert #child reader #yandere x reader #kidnapping #tw kidnapping

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kkurami · 8 months

Text

( SHES JUST A LOOKALIKE ) 🪞 ² ˚ ༘ fluff + angst

୨୧ ‧ gojo couldn’t help but find traces of you sprinkled throughout the universe. nothing compares to the real you.

the moment your eyes laid upon her figure, you knew that she was just a lookalike.

beneath the canopy of time's silent gaze, the school courtyard laid waste to the test of time, a sacred script of whispered tales and fleeting moments. in this hallowed realm of echoes, you stood.

all her distinguishable characteristics were almost eerily a replica of your very own— from the way her physical features resembled yours to the way her mannerisms were very similar. the way she would hit her knee when she laughed, the way her eyes wandered whenever he was talking, even the way she zoned out and picked at her fingernails.

you felt as though you were gazing upon your own reflection in a one way mirror.

as destiny poised its quill, you, the unwilling muse to gojo’s romantic fantasies, saw the narrative taking shape, your heart attuned to the delicate rhythms of anticipation. the stage was set for the echoes of resemblance would pose a pattern for one white haired male.

the thought made you lightheartedly giggle. of course, it hurt to see the man you loved with a lookalike of you. seemingly a mirror of his past, it was almost as if he had attempted to replace you.

despite the cockiness that rang, the resemblance was ever so uncanny. every aspect that gojo claimed was ‘unique’ about you was represented in her own appearance.

geto had said it himself. gojo was trying to find traces of you in someone else.

and none of this was her fault. if anything, you felt bad for his current girlfriend. gojo was charismatic and charming, and you didn’t blame her for falling for him. gojo was the only one to take blame for the unfortunate circumstances.

you never wanted to end things in the first place. but gojo did because you two weren’t ‘working out’… perhaps it was something that you did wrong, or perhaps he had just fallen out of love. the idea went past you, whatever it was. as much as you attempted to wrap your head around his motivations, you could never quite pinpoint just what you did wrong.

you shook off your thoughts and let your gaze wander back to the couple, when you noticed gojo looking at you as well. it was the first time in months that the two of you had made proper eye contact, and you felt your heart drop.

he had this almost woeful look in his eyes as you two had a staredown across your college campus. a seldom glance he sent across the courtyard conveyed every emotion you needed to know. his girlfriend, who was previously talking, noticed that gojo wasn’t quite paying attention to her. she turned her head to see where he was looking which was when she spotted you.

of course, she knew all about you. gojo couldn’t stop himself from talking about you after all.

you were gojo’s first love. at family gatherings, you were the one his family would bring up before he had to remind them that you were gone.

how deeply upsetting it was for her to see the disappointment written across their faces once they realized who he had picked after you.

she knew that she was just your lookalike, and it was a matter of time before gojo would come to his senses and attempt to get you back.

you made eye contact with her and gave her a soft smile. almost as if to say ‘i’m sorry.’

she knew you had nothing to apologize for. it wasn’t your fault that gojo didn’t know how to cope with his own feelings. it was his own fault for that, but it was her fault for dating gojo while knowing that he didn’t truly love her. she was willing to go through that pain just for him.

but seeing how y/n and gojo looked at each other and the love that filled their eyes, she knew that she couldn’t compare.

she was on the outside of your story.

amidst the rustling leaves, her voice reached gojo, a fragile melody woven with a tinge of melancholy. "some stories," she mused, "unfold in the shadows of familiarity, don't they, satoru?"

eyes staring blankly, a silent and unspoken confession made its way to gojo’s ears. he didn’t need to ask what she had meant by that.

everyone knew that she was just your lookalike, even gojo.

“don’t lose her a second time.”

that was all she said, before standing up to walk away. no more words had to be said. gojo knew why she was walking away— because she was breaking up with him.

“for what it’s worth, i’m sorry.” gojo let out before his (now ex) girlfriend could leave.

“if you were sorry you wouldn’t have dated me with someone else in mind.” the girl stopped in her tracks, and turned around. a ghost of a smile graced her lips. her carefree shattered like fragile glass. “i’ve felt it all along—this charade we're living. it’s your past you're holding onto, not me.”

that was it. that was the end of their relationship. no tears, no yelling, just silence.

but she was right. gojo should’ve just faced his own feelings and not dragged someone else into his mess. all he could think about at that moment was the way you stood there under the light looking so ethereal, and he had made up his mind about one thing.

“hey y/n,”

your eyes trailed upwards to meet the face of the man who had consumed all of your mental space in the past year, the man who made you feel like a lovesick teenager. the same man who seemed as though he could never get rid of you.

a smile quirked its way to your features.

“so… i guess my best attempt at getting a replacement fell short, nothing compares to the real deal. how about we skip the charades and grab coffee sometime?”

a silent song rang across the courtyard, singing lyrics of a love that was always meant to be.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo fluff #jjk gojo #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #gojou x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojou x y/n #gojou satoru x y/n

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cyborg-franky · 1 year

Text

Confessions

Thank you so much @whitewineandpizzapuffs for the support and the suuuuuper super fun prompt. I had fun with this big boy. I hope you enjoy <3

Ace x F!Reader SFW Ace Lives AU 5 + 1 trope WC: 4,400

He was a highly ranked commander on one of the strongest crews in the world but that didn’t stop Ace from being unable to handle his feelings. He was never one to express how he felt, other than anger and annoyance. Pushing everything else down deep to be ignored and to deny to himself and everyone else.

Despite being in such a position of power he still hid from her in Marco’s office when he knew she was on lunch break. Sitting across from the phoenix as he worked, watching as Marco’s quill danced across the paper the sound of the tip dragging along the parchment paper.

“Marco, your handwriting is terrible, how do you even read it?” Ace mumbled, staring over at the notes the other commander had been working on. Marco paused, sighed, and looked over his red frames at Ace.

“Shouldn’t you be doing something else? Like anything else?” Marco sat back in his seat and watched how Ace fidgeted in his seat, reaching over for a piece of paper to pull at, to fiddle with the edge before Marco shot him a look, Ace chuckled and dropped the paper.

“Yeah, I guess. I’m on break and I thought I’d keep my bestie company.” Ace batted his eyelashes which earned him a scrutinising gaze from Marco. “You mean your avoiding her because you have feelings and haven’t worked out how to cope with those yet yoi.” Marco watched Ace straighten up, how tense his shoulder became as he stumbled over his words.

Gotcha

“Listen,” “I’m listening.” Ace folded his arms over his chest, Marco mimicking him with a growing smirk on his lips as Ace wrinkled his nose.

“I’m working on it.”

Marco rolled his eyes, a chuckle as he shook his head, standing up from his desk and walking over to his filing cabinet as Ace sulked over his situation. “If you don’t find somewhere else to mope around I’ll tell her for you yoi.” Marco hummed, acting nonchalant as he glanced over his shoulder, seeing the color drain from Ace’s freckled face.

“Don’t fuckin’ do that birdbrain!” He flapped his arms, waving them in a no fashion as Marco watched him. “Fine, I’ll work on it… I’ll confess to her!”

Famous last words Ace thought as he ran a hand through his hair with a deep sigh.

–

The first time he almost confessed to her was on a summer island, the pair walking through town. She brushed her hair back as she talked with one of the traders in the marketplace. Ace watched her with a dumb look on his face, the fondness clear as day on his face. He watched as she laughed, joking with the man selling her supplies.

He felt a little tinge of jealousy when the trader seemed to take the banter as an invite, offering her a deal because she was so pretty. His eyebrow twitched in annoyance as his jaw was set in a firm line, not impressed with the man trying to flirt with her.

Ace tried to convince himself that he was just looking out for his best friend, and that he was making sure no one hassled her. He told himself desperately it wasn’t anything to do with the growing feelings that bloomed in his chest, wrapping around his heart like ivy. Flowers of affection alive and well.

“Hey buddy, come on, don’t hassle her.” Ace stepped forward, he placed his hand on her lower back in a reassuring manner. The trader blinked and laughed at Ace’s bravado.

“Her boyfriend or something pal?” He laughed at Ace and that was one thing he wouldn’t tolerate, he hated to be mocked, to be laughed at, he grit his teeth as the hand not on her back balled into a fist.

Flames licked across his bare shoulders, and she couldn’t miss those sparks, knowing his temper was about to flare and there would be a bigger problem. “No, he’s not. Come on Ace, he’s just being friendly.” She replied and turned to look at him, he tried not to feel the stab in his heart at her words, the dismissive nature of her reply.

He needed to calm down before he set this asshole's cart on fire. He bit the inside of his cheek as the trader carried on flirting with her, his hand on her shoulder, suggesting she come inside his shop to have an adult conversation.

“Come on, this guy's shit isn’t worth it anyway, we got given a list we should stick to it.” He grunted and wrapped his hand around her wrist, gently pulling her from the trader's grasp. She had no idea what had come over Ace, he was normally so chill and full of laughs and smiles when they went shopping together.

She excused them both, saying sorry to the trader as Ace tugged her away by her wrist. Once out of earshot, she yanked her arm away from him, glaring, hands on her hips as she waited for an explanation.

“Why were you jealous Ace? We aren't together.” She started as she tapped her foot on the floor, trying not to let her temper get the best of her, not wanting to start a shouting match in the middle of town with him.

“He was being a sleaze! I know we aren’t together but come on, he was all over you!” Ace huffed, puffing his chest out, thinking he had the high ground here until he felt her poke his chest, instantly letting the air out of him. He saw the anger in her eyes as she opened her mouth. “No Ace, I was in no danger whatsoever and maybe I enjoyed the flirting? I’m single after all and again why are you jealous?” She demanded to know, voice raising as Ace stood there, shoulders sagging. Not enjoying the feeling of being scolded by the woman he was in love with.

“Maybe I want-” He cut himself off, he couldn’t confess, not here, not like this. He would never forgive himself. And she was pissed off with his antics, it would only cloud her judgment and spur on the rejection.

He sighed, shaking his head and picking up his bag, starting to walk. “It’s nothing, I’m sorry,”

—-

The second time he tried to confess, he actually did she just didn’t believe him.

She was sitting in Marco’s office, looking at the door to the operating room, she couldn’t stop worrying about Ace. Her foot bounced and he knee jiggled as she played with the hem of her shirt, her cheeks hurt from anxiously chewing the insides.

Ace had been hit pretty bad, he’d been cocky and showing off and ended up with seastone bullets lodged into his chest, arm, and thigh. Marco had managed to heal him enough using the phoenix ability but he still needed the bullets out.

The door opened and she looked up, a worried expression painted across her face, tear-stained cheeks as she waited for Marco to appear. “He’s fine, you can come see him, he’s coming around from being under so he’ll be a bit goofy yoi.” Marco explained and she nodded, rushing to the door, pausing and staring at Ace laying there, mumbling to himself.

She wanted to blame herself for Ace getting hurt, she felt that somehow, some part of this was her fault, like Ace was showing off just for her benefit. They’d both been lax, both too comfortable in how strong Ace’s power was to think he could be hurt.

But the sneak attack from behind had been enough to level the commander. She bit her lip, not sure if she should allow herself to see him, blame dragging her under until she felt Marco’s hand on her lower back, ushering her into the room, pulling out a chair for her to sit by Ace.

“Ace,” She said and reached over, taking his hand as Ace with his lop-sided grin faced her, he slurred, sounding drunk as he was slowly coming too. Marco sat on the other side, a chart in his hands and only half paying attention to her and Ace as he scribbled more notes.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, rubbing his knuckles gently he laughed loudly, grabbing her hand, bringing it to his face, and kissing the back, she blushed and stared at him before groaning when he started to kiss her skin, this time sloppy and leaving drool.

“Much better now your here, your like an angel.” He gushed and smiled at her, trying to grab at the hand she’d pulled away.

“You know, I really love you.” He mumbled, looking a little forlorn at his admission. She blinked at him and noticed Marco was no longer writing, her eyes met with Marco’s over his clipboard. “Do you think he means it?” She asked and Marco blinked slowly, “Who knows..” He said with an awkward chuckle, quickly going back to his notes, knowing this wasn’t his call to make.

She sighed and looked from Marco back to Ace who seemed to have fallen asleep, trying to nap off the remaining effects of being under… At least he was okay..,

–

The third time Ace almost confessed she thought she was going to die.

Ace’s beloved striker, how fast he could move that thing, How it blasted through the waves without a care in the world, cutting through the water like a hot knife through butter. Nothing could stop it nor Ace.

Fire flared around him as he held on to his hat with one hand, letting out a laugh as he felt freedom and the sea breeze fill his chest. The way the striker skipped across the water’s surface like a pebble skimmed across a lake.

The sun was blazing above them, watching as the fire-fueled vessel burst through another wave, seaspray spittled across Ace but not enough to slow him down or to hinder his powers. She was clinging on for dear life, the wind in her hair as she shrieked and held the mast as tight as she could.

Ace looked back seeing her clinging onto the pole, the smirk spread across his face as slowed down, just a little before coming to a stop. She could breathe finally, she could feel her heart beating against her chest, and her mouth felt dry from her open-mouthed gawking and shouting.

“Wasn’t that fun?” He asked, stepping over to her, and placing his hand on hers. peeling her fingers from grasping so hard at the mast, seeing her knuckles white as she took a breath to calm herself.

“I can’t believe you and Deuce made this thing, it’s crazy,” She said letting her legs wobble, she almost fell back into the seat until Ace set his hands on her hips, keeping her in place, his smirk softened to a smile, enjoying how this felt. As he met her gaze, she was stunning.

“Yeah, it’s pretty neat right?” He said with pride, remembering the day the striker was born. “Deuce screamed even more than you did,” he teased gently nudging her before draping an arm across her shoulder, letting her lean on him for stability as she carried on trying to regulate her breathing.

“I don’t doubt that for a second.” She said, brushing messy hair from her face. “I’m really good at making people scream ya know…” He saw her furrowed brows as she elbowed him in jest, cheeks pink as she rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah? Maybe you should show me how else you could make me scream for you Portgas,” She fluttered her eyelashes and saw the blush that spread across his freckled cheeks, laughing when he dipped his hat to cover his face.

“Whatever,” he said and nudged her back, to and fro this went until they both sat down next to one another, a tight squeeze but neither seemed to mind. The striker was gently lulled by waves, birds overheard letting out excited cries.

“So, wasn’t it fun?” He asked again, playing with a loose thread on his shorts, staring ahead at the shimmering blue waves, feeling her shrug a little. “Scary and fun, like dating for the first time.” She said, looking across the same waves as him, feeling the sun on her skin as the boat just bobbed in place.

“Dating huh?” Ace turned to look at her now, examining her face as she met his eye once more, a small smile on her lips as she nodded. “Yeah, you know when your feelings are rushing to your heart and you feel it beating harder and harder when you spend time with the person you love, how fast the first few days and weeks feel. How alive it makes you feel but just how deep your feelings go keeping your feet rooted in place,”

He listened to her and mused it over, it was true, that summed up how he felt about her, but he wasn’t scared of being with her, he was terrified she would reject him, that he’d ruin a friendship along with the hopes and dreams of getting to hold her hand, kiss her, smell her hair first thing in the morning.

To hold her against his chest and listen to gentle breathing as she fell asleep by his side. He knew he was in deep, he knew his feelings were scarier than any storm on the sea, and joy ride on the striker.

He could cope with the fear of falling into the sea by now but he couldn't take just how his heart ached at the thought of losing her. But the bottled-up feelings carried on being shaken up inside, fit to burst and overflow any second.

Ace wanted to explode. “Would you ever… date someone?” he asked, hearing his heartbeat loud in his ears. She tilted her head to one side, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she thought about it, really thought about it. “I don’t know, I don’t think romance is on the cards for me,” she hummed and shrugged.

“Maybe I just need the right person…”

“What about if it was m-” he was cut off by a large wave rocking the striker, making them both yell in surprise.

Ace looked up into the sky, one of the fabled out-of-nowhere storms that rolled across the world, typical of the grandline. The storm clouds above rumbled, they felt the sound of thunder rattle their chests as the waves picked up again.

“I guess we should go.” She sighed in annoyance at the same time he let out a defeated one. Both standing and Ace made sure she was holding on tight as he fired himself up once more, sending the boat rocketing over the waves, being chased by the storm.

All the way safely to The Moby Dick.

Had it been his imagination or had there been something in that conversation?

—--

The fourth time he tried to confess he was drinking one night, everyone sat around the tables, enjoying the end of another hard day. Bellies full of food, tankards full of beer as everyone laughed and cheered, singing and dancing.

And there she was, coming over to Ace’s table, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her as she sat down, sitting across from him. He grabbed his mug, bringing it to his lips as he downed the biggest gulp.

“Hey,” He said, hoping he sounded as casual as he’d intended though he’d straightened up and put a smile on his face.

“Can I join you?” she asked and he nodded, she sat across from him with her own drink, he admired how she looked, the backdrop of the sunset giving her a halo of orange light, like she also had his devil fruit and was on fire. He tried not to take too sharp of a breath as he admired her.

“Today was rough, I can’t believe so much went wrong.” She sighed and brought the tankard to her lips, taking a drink and all Ace could do was think lucky mug. He let out a chuckle and shrugged his shoulders. “That’s the way it goes sometimes on a ship, everything can go right one minute then you'rer in the ship's guts knee-deep in salt water.”

“Has that ever happened to the moby?” “Nah, back on my old ship.” He explained and she mused over his comment, remembering just how Ace came to be on this ship. His journey to the man he was today. “I bet that was a pain in the ass.”

“Deuce still brings it up.” Ace snickered and she giggled thinking of the doctor and how he didn’t seem to let anything go. “That checks, I bet it was your fault… right?” She raised an eyebrow, a smirk growing when Ace mock gasped and pointed to himself.

“Me? How could you imply such a thing!” he tutted, seeing how she stared at him, not believing his reply in the slightest. “Alright, alright, it was me.”

Drinks flowed as did the conversation, both taking turns to go and grab two more drinks. Ace’s freckled cheeks were tinged pink, as was hers. They’d moved their little party to somewhere more private. Bottles of beer stolen from the kitchen, some laying empty around them.

“Sometimes I think you and Marco would make a cute couple.” She teased and nudged him, Ace snorted and spat out his drink, coughing as some dribbled from his nose. She laughed loudly, holding her stomach as he gave her a confused look, he grabbed the hem of her shirt and wiped his face off on the fabric as payback which caused her to squeal in amusement.

“Really?” He said, voice croaky, another cough as he watched her face, seeing the smirk. “Maybe so,”

“Come on, don’t say that! I might be trying to woo someone else and wouldn’t want them to think I like birdbrain!” He huffed and stretched his legs out, grabbing another beer and leaning back against the crate they’d set up camp in front of.

“And who would that be?” She asked, leaning closer to him, half-lidded eyes, and long lashes fluttering as she waited for a reply. Ace gripped the bottle in his hand before he chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. “Why do you wanna know? Would you be jealous?”

She was a little taken aback by his flirty comment, she was glad for the dim light provided by the strings lights above. She could feel her face getting hotter at his reply, her palms sweating. She would be jealous, wouldn’t she? She sat back leaning on the crate and picking up her beer, staring at the stars.

“And what if I was? What would you do about it?” She said, turning to face him, watching him shift and lean forward. Eyes meeting hers. “Well, the last thing I’d wanna do is make you jealous..” He said, not a lie.

His eyes dropped to her lips where she was smiling at him, he wanted to kiss her so badly, the booze making him fearless, the back-and-forth flirting between two friends sending a buzz, an electric charge in the air as their bare arms touched.

“Oh? Why?”

His heart was racing, he licked his lips as he found he couldn't look away from her mouth, couldn’t think of anything but his desire to kiss her. She cleared her throat and he forced himself to make eye contact.

“Well, what if yo-” “There you two are!”

Ace groaned when Thatch turned the corner, standing in front of them. “We are about to start a big game of poker! Come on you two, quit making out and join us!” Thatch reached down and ruffled their hair. Ace huffed and slapped his hand away.

“Alright, alright!”

—-

The fifth time he tried to confess was just a simple evening.

Ace hunched over a table in the dining room late in the afternoon, brows furrowed in concentration as he scribbled notes on the paper, He chewed on the end of the pen as he glared at the paper in front of him. Something all commanders had to do but he still hated this part of the job.

Paperwork.

She’d been looking for him, missing his company, his banter, and jokes, the warmth he would radiate with his smile and his body. She pushed open the door and saw him working hard, she felt herself smiling, gazing at him, fond of the commander that she was increasingly getting closer to, knowing him inside and out.

Seeing more sides of him than he ever let others witness. She walked over and gently placed a hand on his shoulder, he glanced up, and the irritated look vanished the moment he realized who it was. He placed his hand on hers and smiled.

“Hey,” “Hey, was wondering where you were.”

“Yeah?” He asked as she sat down on the other side, looking at the paper he was toiling over. “You have beautiful handwriting Ace..” she said with awe in her voice, pulling the sheet closer to her, and reading over his notes.

“Something I picked up from my childhood, from one of the good people I met.” He shrugged, even with her he was cagey about the past. She never pushed or pried though, never.

“Your writing is better than anyone else in fact.. Marco’s looks like chicken scratch, Thatch has more food stains the ink on his paperwork, and I don’t even want to mention the mess that Jozu makes and Vista.. His is far too fancy to understand.” She said as she looked over the page, Ace leaned on the table, cheek cradled in the palm of his hand as he admired her.

He wasn’t really listening, too focused on watching her lips move, watching the way she brushed hair behind her ear. He snapped out of it when she handed him back the paper. “Oh, thanks, yeah.” He mumbled in reply and tapped the nib of his pen on the paper.

“But yeah, beautiful Ace,”

“I can think of something more beautful,” He started, watching her stare at him like she was expecting something. He managed to catch himself, realizing in his daze he’d almost let everything slip again. He sat up and nodded. “Yeah, the stars tonight! Pop’s said we should have a harvest moon! Those things are huge!”

She sighed inwardly, she felt he’d been so close to something…

“Wanna go see it together after I finish this up?” He offered, taking the paper and quickly returning his attention to his work, tipping his hat down to hide his face.

“I’d like that.”

–

She felt tears running down her face, and snot from her nose as she rushed after the others, Ace in Jozu’s arms as Marco became a beacon of blue fire, hands on Ace’s chest as everyone rushed aboard the ship.

Ace had been hit pretty bad, he’d have been dead if Marco hadn’t been there at that second. She couldn’t swallow the lump in her throat as she followed them to the infirmary, Marco only allowing her access because her name was all that Ace could manage to say as he came in and out of consciousness.

He looked so pitiful, a dimming flame that flickered in the wind as he was laid out on the bed, Marco never moving from Ace’s side, hands splayed out on his chest, keeping the wound from getting worse, from killing him.

She’d never seen Marco so frazzled, the normally laid-back man was shouting, a frown on his face as he carried on barking orders. Deuce and Tate rushed around the office, grabbing the things he asked for as you sat by Ace’s bedside.

His eyes opened, he didn’t seem all there as he reached a bloody hand out, grasping for hers. She held his hand tight as Marco’s flames got brighter, swallowing the room, and chasing away the shadows as the phoenix worked its magic.

Deuce hooking Ace up to a drip, Tate grabbing all manner of things. She had no idea what was going on, she didn’t dare ask Marco as he growled out “Come on Ace!”

Everything was a blur, the shouting, yelling, clatter of things, and frustrated mumbles soon died down as Marco’s healing flames dissipated. Marco had never looked so ragged or old, she bit her lip when she saw his knees wobble and he sank to the floor, heavy breathing.

“Is Ac- is Ace okay?” she asked and saw Marco nod. “I have him stable, we have him stable.” He added seeing Deuce and Tate at Ace’s bedside, checking on things.

She didn’t leave his side, she hadn’t let go of his hand. Deuce opened the door and peered in, seeing her half slumped on Ace’s bed. “Want something to drink?” he asked, stepping in and checking a few things with Ace. She shook her head and politely declined.

Exhausted and too drained to think of anything.

Deuce sighed and nodded, hanging up the clipboard before he left, to report to Marco no doubt. She felt Ace’s hand twitch and glanced up. He was staring right back at her, he looked rough but alive. He was going to be fine, thank the gods.

“Hey,” he clutched her hand, doing his best to smile at her. “Hey,” she sat up and offered him a weak smile.

“We almost lost you there Portgas.” She sighed and watched him struggle to sit, she reached over, helping him sit, adjusting his pillows. “I know… but almost doesn’t count right?” he chuckled and winced, hand going to his bandaged chest.

“Your so cocky,” she sighed but the smile never left.

“I’m glad I’m alive, I would have hated myself if I never got to tell you how much I love you.” Ace didn’t look away this time, it was out there, it was wild and free, the confession he’d been sitting on for as long as he could remember.

Her eyes opened wide and she bit back a sob, hearing those words… “I love you too Ace, you idiot,” She sat on the edge of the bed, leaning her forehead against his, sobbing softly as Ace closed his eyes, feeling complete at last.

–

Marco leaned on the door frame, hearing the tearful confession from the pair. He smiled, glad two soulmates weren’t taken from one another before they had a chance to flourish together.

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squiddy-god · 3 months

Text

brothers S/O proposing like them (obey me)

Oh he loved this,

Lucifers (while not my favorite) was a simple yet sweet proposal

He’s confused when you suddenly approach him while he works away in his office, your hands resting on his slumped shoulders gently squeezing to relieve at least a little of the tension in them.

He’ll set down his quill and shift to look up at you as you beamed at him

He’ll go soft before inquiring why you were here?

And then you’ll tell him, gentle smile on your face you’ll cup his cheeks and press your head to his

And then you say it

You’ll say you loved him, that out of any being in the three worlds you wanted to spend your time with him, you’ll say how much you love him and how deep your love runs

Lucifer will break out in a grin, pride and love swarming his body and making his head go fuzzy

he’ll hold you tight in his arms, face pressed into your stomach so you cant see his glossy eyes

He’ll accept with his voice only slightly quivering

Almost a member of the “yeah i cried” squad

You walked into Lucifer’s office, the large doors creaking a bit as you entered. You knew he could sense your presence as you quickly walked up behind him, your hands coming to rest against his shoulders. Squeezing gently you kissed the top of his head. Lucifer set down his quill letting out a small sigh as his shoulders slumped, he shifted in his chair, red gaze fixing on your (e/c) eyes. They softened at the sight of you, a tinge of relief quickly washed away as he opened his mouth to speak, “y/n? Why have you come here? Do you need something? I swear if mamon has done something again…” he trailed off, thin brows knitting together as he began to plan how to string up the second born.

You let out an airy laugh before shaking your head, (h/l) (h/c) hair swaying with the movement. “No luci, it isn’t mammon…” you paused, delicate (s/t) hand cupping his cheek, thumb suning over his porcelain skin. His eyes widened and his cheeks reddened slightly, he could feel the love in your touch and he could see the adoration in your eyes. “I love you luifer, in all the beings in the tree worlds I want to spend my life with you, i love you so deeply lucifer, for all of your faults and flaws, and every little thing about you, that’s why i want to spend the days with you. Lucifer, please marry me.”

His long arms wrapped around you, his face buried in the fabric of your shirt. You couldn’t see his face, couldn’t see the prideful grin or glassy eyes, and definitely couldn’t see how flushed his cheeks were .

You remained like that for a moment, gently smoothing his hair as his grip never faltered. “Yes” he said, the strain in his voice muffled and hiding the slight quiver it carried. Soon enough he pulled back, gleaming ruby eyes now soft and brimming with the love he felt, he pulled you down and you could feel the love head for you brimming from his fingertips, you could feel the devotion and adoration threw the touch of his lips as he kissed you deeply, and you could feel the joy as he held you close.

Mammon

First member of the “yeah I cried” squad

He was super confused when you came running up to him with a defeated looking luck and solomon

Seriously who died (too soon?)

When he turns and asks what your up to and you pull out a radio hes even more confused??

And then you start singing and dancing and he goes 0o0

It finally dawns on him that “OH SHIT AIN’T THIS THE SAME WAY I PROPOSED”

You didn’t even get the hole thing done (much to luke and solomons relife) because mammon nearly tackled you into a hug, lavashing your flushed face with all the kisses that he could

He absolutely loved this

Like hes full on bawling and blabering, wiping his eyes and saying hes not crying over some dumb human

*HIS dumb human

You had a broad grin on your face and a bounce in your step as you carried the small speaker/radio. Your cheery aura was a stark contrast to the two behind you. Luke and Solomon followed behind with deep set frowns, a look of dread and embarrassment etched into their eyes. The moment you saw the familiar fluffy white hair you immediately made a b-line towards the greedy demon. “Oh great mammon!” you called out knowing he secretly (not so secretly) loved it. “What’d Ya want, human?” he asked feigning annoyance despite his flushed cheeks. Your grin grew as you set down the speaker putting on the song you picked out, the bumping beat starting as Luke and Solomon danced miserably. Mamon stared at you, confused out of his mind until you started to sing.

“We’re no strangers to love~ you know the rules, and so do I!” you sang as mammons azure eyes stared at you, wide and shocked. Blowing him a cheeky kiss you kept singing “a full commitment what i’m thinking of! You wouldn’t get this from any other (prefered pronouns)!” you did a little spin, pointing directly at mammon. “ I~ just wanna tell you how i’m feeling~ gotta make you understand-” you were about to get to the chorus when a blur of white and orange flew at you, the air was almost knocked out of your lungs as mammons arms wrapped around you pulling you into his chest. “Yes! yes,yes, yes! Of course i’ll marry ya! I am your man after all!” he practically shouted, bright blue eyes flowing with tears down his dark skin. One arm came up to wipe his face, sniffling slightly. “I ain’t crying! Not ‘cause some stupid human proposed to the great mammon” he looked down at you with frantic eyes, “ya did propose right!?” he asked, you chuckled and nuzzled your face into his chest, “of course that was a proposal you dummy” a wide grn spread arocss his face as he planted kisses acros your flushed cheeks, forehead, and nose. He bent down slightly, arms hooking behind your knees as he effortlessly housed you into the air, spinning you around. “IM GONNA BE YOUR MAN! YER GONNA MY SPOUSE! MY HUMAN”

Luke and solomon just sighed, quickly scampering away to avoid any further embarrassment as you two shared this sickly sweet moment.

Levi

Second member of the “yeah i cried” squad

So doing this took FOREVER because you straight up made a video game for him

It was a simple 8-bit game with levels like pacman and mario, it also held a tone of easter eggs from tsl you knew he’d enjoy

The story levels are based on the little adventures you two have gone on, including a danganronpa style recreation of the tsl quizz thing were you got his pact.

The hole game is threw his eyes but he gets little snips of your thoughts (you play a side character who follows him) about how much you love him

He beats the game pretty quickly and is about to hand it back to you and say he liked it when he hears the music of the final achievement screen.

Starts crying when he sees that you just proposed to him

His brain short circuits a bit

He accepts and gets really clingy

Also tried to pull that “ BuT I’m An IcKy OtAkU” bs so plz tell him u luv him and that he is poggers

Levi quirked his head to the side when you handed him the see-thru orange disc casse, inside a basic white game disc. “I-i uhhh, i made you a game and i want you to play it” you said, face red and fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Levi wanted to squeal, you were so cute being all blushy like in his otome games. He beamed his little ha-ha laugh ringing in the blue lit room, “of corse ill play it” he paused face lighting up red “s-sence you made it and all”

He gingerly placed the disc in his desktop disc slot, the game sliding in and roaring to life. Levi started to play, his slender fingers taping away at the wasd keys, his sprite character, that looks suspiciously like him, jumping and swimming over all the obstacles like he had played the game a thousand times. You smiled, sitting down next to him you waited for him to finish, you knew it wouldn’t be long, it was levi after all.

And soon enough he came to the final level, the sprite you had made to fallow him, the one that looked and acted suspiciously like you, had said they would go ahead and wait for him. So he sawm threw the last level, it was a simple water level with a few mini fights and a boss that levi said looked like mammon. You giggled as he noticed all of the easter eggs you placed, from his gaming headset, ruri-chan figurines, and henry 2.0, to all of his TSL merch.

Finally he beat the final level, he was about to turn to you for the kiss you gave him evry time he beat a game when more music started playing. Levi reconised this immediately “HUH!? Is that the wedding music from episode 248 of TSL when the lord of shadows has to crash a wed-” levi was about to start rambaling when his orange eyes caught a glimps of the screen.

Neon orange letters flashed and blinked back at him “Marry me great hero” he read outloud, slowly processing the letters that hung above the sprite character. It dawned on him in that moment, you had proposed, this game was a storey of the little things you did together. Gentle tears rolled down his cheeks as he turned to you “b-but im just a icky otaku! W-why would you” he trailed off, voice growing meek and near a whimper. You cupped his cheeks and kissed the corner of his eyes “because i love you leviathan, and your not an icky otaku, your an amazing boyfriend, and hopefully an amazing husband to?” you asked, waiting for his answer. He wrapped his arms around you pulling you against him tightly “Y-Yes! N-normie” you smiled and squished his cheeks “my little pogchamp~”

Satan

You had his full attention when you came into his room carrying a book

So when you hand it to him and tell him to read it you don’t have to tell him twice

Satan is a smart boy, so the moment he opens the book and its a picture-pop up book he knows exactly whats up

You make his heart all fuzzy with love instead of rage

Reads the hole book before setting it down and going into soft satan™ mode

Pulls you into his arm chair and buries his face in your neck

U aren’t leaving hun

He accepts and teases you about the hole soul mates thing

Tease him back cause that was his idea (his super fucking cute idea)

Once this little shit is done cuddling you he immediately go’s to brag about it to lucifer

Even better if lucifer comes looking for you in satan’s room and satan go’s “oh mc is just cuddling with me, their FUTURE HUSBAND”

Cheeky bastard

He keeps the book in a safe place and gets angry if someone even thinks about looking at it.

Reads it again in private and joins the “yeah i cried” squad, i’ll die on this hill

Satan’s teal eyes shot up the moment his door opened, he smiled gently as you walked in, apoliginging and hoping you weren’t bothering him. His interest was honed in on the book you hold in your hands, the dinky cover covered in small and large cat designs, his eyes drifted up to meet your (e/c) ones “hmm? y/n, what’s that book? “ He asked, curiosity taking hold of his mind. You smiled brightly and handed the book to him “ I made you a book! W-would you like to read it” you looked to the side shyly as you scratch your neck. You definitely didn’t have to tell him twice, he smiled gently and opened the book, the colorful illustrations popping out at him.

“It’s about the journey two soul mates go on” you said, oh he knew exactly what you were doing, but of course he still read the book. He felt his heart flutter at the small tales of your midnight walks, the time you two went to the cat shelter, and the times you two spent reading in his room, all of the little moments, and as he turned the last page of your picture book, the final illustration popping out. He looked at the picture, a small illustration of you standing in front of him, the bubbly letters “marry me?” written above with bold outlines.

He smiled gently, teal eyes locking with yours as he closed the book and set it down on top of one of the many stacks. He pulled you onto his lap in the arm chair, his blond hair tickling your cheeks as his face nuzzled into your neck. “Soul mates? How cheezy y/n, but i accept nonetheless.” he said chuckling. “Oh your one to talk mr. “I wanna spend my life with you, ur my soul mate” just remember this idea was YOURS first” you said giggling with him. He smiled, placing a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips.

“I can’t wait to rub it in Lucifer’s face,” he smirked, mind running with how he’ll gloat about this. You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head at Satan’s ridiculousness. You were glad he had accepted, and little did you know the tears he shed once he was alone.

Asmo

Alright so the bouquet you got him was a combination of pink peonies and pink hydrangeas

It’s a very pretty bouquet

Pink peonies mean happy marriage and pink hydrangeas mean heartfelt emotion

Prepare to have lipstick smooch marks all over because the first thing asmo dose after he gets over his shock is hug you and give you a smooch

To think you would propose with his idea

And with such a beautiful bouquet!

Who knew you were knowledgeable about flower language

Honestly he’s really touched and the only reason hes not crying(pretty crying) is because his foundation was 50 grimm

You took a deep breath and knocked on asmos door, you knew better then to walk into his room of all places. One you hurd him give you the ok to come in, you pushed open the intricate door. Stepping inside you saw him infront of his walk in closet. “Hey asmo~ i have a surprise for you!” he whipped aroug now excited, “oh darling you shouldnt have!” he said waltzing twords you. From behind you back you pulled the bouquet of flowers, the shades of pink blending into one another the accents of green highlighting the intracat clusters of petals. “The hydrangeas symbolise heartfelt emotions, and the peonies represent happy marriage” you paused, his eyes were wide and his soft lips were pulling up into a smile.

“T-that’s because i want to marry you, from the bottom of my heart i love you…so…will you mary me” you asked, holding out the flowers to him. A gentle smile tugged at his lips and he took the flowers setting them aside on the bedside table.

He cupped your face in his hands, softly running his thumbs over your cheeks lovingly. “Oh y/n, of course I accept, after all you gave me a bouquet almost as beautiful as me! Who knew you knew flower language “ he said, eyes gleaming with love. He placed a passionate kiss on your lips, the shimmery pink lipstick leaving a sideways smooch mark on your lips.

You laughed as he guessed about wedding plans, deciding that he had to update his devil gram to “3 relms most beautiful spouse #1” and that you had to change yours to “3 relms most beautiful spouse #2” because you were of course just as radiant as he was, at least in his eyes.

Beel

Alright so this almost went horribly wrong

Beel eats plates lmao

So what you had to do was get him a box of cupcakes from madame screams +1 special cupcake that you put the ring on top of

He loves this idea but it takes him a minute to process what you meant

Once he dose tho he gets the biggest puppy grin and pulls you into a kiss

Of course he accepts

Immediately tells belphie because of course he has to be the first to know

You smiled as you walked into the kitchen, beels head immediately snapping towards you as his senses were filled with the smell of soft cakes and sweet frosting. He looked at you with hopeful pleading eyes, “yes beel, the cupcakes are for you” his two toned eyes lit up and his face cracked into a grin.

You happily watched him munch on the cupcakes eyes closed in a big grin and cheeks puffed out like a squirrel. He stopped for a moment and turned to you, offering a deep purple cupcake. “Ah, no thanks beel, these are for you, you eat them” you said with a loving smile, with that he turned to continue eating his cupcakes.

It wasn’t long before he was finished with the cupcakes and ready to go raid the fridge. “Wait beel! I-i have one more for you, but this one is a special one” you said, holding out the bright orange cupcake, the simple ring placed delicately on top of it to make sure beel didn’t eat it too. His eyes stared at it for a moment while he processed what you were asking. “y/n…are you?” he asked, voice laced with hope, you nodded, a shy grin plastered on your flushed face. Beel smiled wide, placing the ring on the kitchen counter and eating the cupcake in one bite, his strong arms wrapped around you holding you tight in his warm embrace. His lips were lightly stained with the colorful frosting dyes, the corner of his puppy-dog smile smeared with vibrant frosting. His now colorful lips met yours in a sweet kiss.

You giggled at the sweetness of the frosting, your lips now matching his with the color. Beel let out a rumbling chuckle before lavashing your stained lips with more kisses “you taste like frosting y/n” you laughed, hands cupping his cheeks and squeezing slightly “YOUR the one who taste like frosting beel”

You stayed like that for a while, just giggling and laughing with each other. Beel was beyond happy that you had proposed to him, and with his favorite thing (besides you and belphie), once belphie woke from his nap he would tell his twin the good news, altho with their odd tendency to be insync with each other, belphie might already know.

Belphie

Oh boy this was both the hardest and easiest thing to do

Final member of the “yeah i cried” squad

So finding belphie awake was the hard part, but when you texted him that you wanted to cuddle he damn near sprinted over because mans got priorities

When you told him to go to sleep he was like “yeah duh” cheeky bastard

He was a little annoyed when you woke him up a few minutes later but when he saw you holding his hand with the ring on it he started crying because fuck man, after all thats happened you still want him

You two have a good moment of emotional vulnerability because you’re one of the people belphie trust the most

First person he tells is beel, but first you’re taking a nap with him, no this isn’t a question its nap time.

Belphie groaned feeling his D.D.D vibrate, he was initially going to ignore it but decided against it. Looking at the bright screen he smiled seeing your name.

“Belphie come to my room”

“I wanna cuddle”

His eyes lit up and he sprang out of bed quickly making his way down to your room. He entered the room, smiling softly when your (e/c) eyes met his and brightened. You were sitting against your headboard in your hoodie and fluffy pajama pants, surrounded by soft pillows and blankets, some that were gifts from him. You patted your lap with a smile and belphie was almost instantly there, setting his cow print pillow next to you and laying his head in your warm lap. “Alright belphie, go to sleep” he scoffed slightly “mmm, that’s what i planned on” he said, slender yet toned arms wrapping around your waist as he snuggled into your stomach.

You chuckled and ran your fingers through his hair, the soothing motion quickly putting him to sleep. He couldn’t help it, between your softness, warmth, and your fingering tangled in his hair, he was out in seconds.

You were nice enough so you let him sleep for a little while, peacefully watching his chest rise and fall. After a while you gently slipped the ring onto his finger. You gently shook him awake holding back a giggle as he groaned and stirred, brows knitted together and he glared at you for only a moment before his eyes softened into a halfhearted scowl. “You’re lucky I love you y/n, mmmm, now why did you wake me up” he said looking up at you, he then noticed you were holding his hand, your fingers no longer in his hair but rather intertwined with his, a ring now placed on his finger. His eyes widened, tears welled in his eyes, the dusky irises going glassy as he stared up at you. “Belphegor, I love you. I want you to be there every morning when I wake up and every night when i go to sleep, your face is the one I want to wake up to, I love you belphie and I want to spend life together with you” you said, kissing the top of his nose.

His eyes welled with tears again and he sat up, the blue sleeves of his cardigan damp as he wiped his eyes. His arms wrapped around you squeezing you tightly, you returned the jester giving him a squeeze and petting his hair. “After all i’ve done…a-after I- you really want that?” he sobbed lightly. You kissed the top of his head and nodded. “Of course I do, i love you belphie, i’ve forgiven you, and i love you.” he wiped his eyes, now smiling gently at you “ i love you too, i want to wake up and go to sleep with you y/n”

He hugged you again, this time picking you up slightly as he fell backwards, you now on top of him. “But you still owe me for waking me up” he said, getting comfortable. “Nap time”

#obey me x reader #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #om! lucifer #om! mammon #om! leviathan #om! satan #om! asmodeus #om! beelzebub #om! belphegor #om! x reader #obey me! x reader

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