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cowgirlcherrie · 1 year

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𓏲 APPLE OF MY EYE ᵎᵎ secret admirer! abby anderson

synopsis: love is a free spirit; crushing is even harder. It all started with a special delivery of anonymous treats at your door. While you were yearning that it would be your best friend sending them to you.

song(s): apple cider by beabadoobee

*LYRICS ARE BOLDED

content: takes place in game universe. follows the events leading up to seattle day 1. violence. death. repetitive mentions of apples; eating them, imagery etc. mutual pinning. implied character death by end. blood. right person, wrong time. missed connection. kinda implied fem! reader. Joel death mention. death foreshadowing. intuitive knowledge of death. Closely follows the song.

WE BOTH LIKE APPLE CIDER

Crush and Crunch.

Crunching with your crush.

It all sounded the same to you, the cracking of your vocal cords at the back of your throat pushing at enunciating every syllable in crush sounding like crunch; which were your teeth poking into an apple every Tuesday. Shiny Granny Smiths, on Tuesdays, Honeycrisps on Wednesdays, and Fuji on Fridays.

You weren’t sure when the kitchen started getting apple deliveries; perhaps the never-ending garden of trees grown them with the perfect analytics to make sure they weren’t poisonous or synthetic apples but you weren’t complaining. The first time you tried an apple sounded ridiculous to say. Your first ever. You took the finely cut slice; detached from its core to your mouth, groaning in satisfaction as the flavors mixed together in your mouth like a rollercoaster. Juicy and bitter with a tinge of sweetness. Just how you liked it.

Abby said they were even better with cinnamon. Rambling on about how sugar and spice equate to everything nice and the best finger-licking of your dreams. On apple days, during breakfast you found yourself sitting at a secluded table with Abby in front of you slicing the apples so they were easier to consume. Shared amongst the two of you as your hands reached for the same slices; Abby pulled her hand away to let you have the last.

BUT YOUR HAIR BE SMELLING LIKE FRUIT PUNCH

You enjoyed these bittersweet moments; like the apples of course. The sun beamed on Abby’s face in marigold and marmalade, as her blonde locks blew in the air slightly disheveled from when she went on patrol that day. Her fresh scent of pine, and fruit blend from her hair which was refreshing and comforting you. She took a final bite before flipping the knife down to take it back to the utensil bin for washing. Where then the two of you would part ways. It was never awkward. Eating apples in silence; you mean — because Abby had a schedule more vigorous and deathly than yours and you had other businesses to attend to. But she never would miss out on an Apple time with you.

AND I DON’T EVEN LIKE YOU THAT MUCH

You’ve grown suspicious in recent meters. You weren’t one to talk about love either but it somehow found some way to bite back at you like the juices of the apple splattering on your lips when you would eat them.

WAIT, I DO, FUCK.

It started with suspicious packages revealing themselves outside of your door, wrapped in a delicate ribbon, with a brown paper box tied off with the most absurd cursive handwriting that you could hardly read. But somehow making out, the delicate notion of

An apple a day keeps the doctor away. Xoxo, eyes from afar.

CALL ME, AT MIDNIGHT.

So as anyone else would, at midnight, you stomped your way to Abby’s door pounding your fist into the wood until she slammed it open looking at you in bewilderment. Toothbrush in between her lips scratching her teeth; scrubbing away at any build-up as she watched you. Notioning with her hands for you to speak. She looked carefree, laidback her hair was down and she looked as though she freshly showered.

“Thanks for the gift” you smirk, holding up the box with randomized love and self-care books with an intact nail polish set that was on top. It was a variety pack, swishes of different shades of pink and white, and even nudes to go for a clear coat; like a puff of cotton candy.

You were flattered, naturally, it was a sweet gift like a candy cane in the sweet summer breeze you wanted to just rip it out of the packaging and have a go. You also never had someone be so considerate of you. Thinking to bring you back something so pure and valuable that surely wouldn’t collect dust but you would bring out every month. You would make sure it wasn’t forgotten.

Abby furrowed her eyebrows, holding up her pointer finger motioning – one minute, running to the sink and spitting out the toothpaste rinsing her mouth off.

“I didn’t give you that.” Abby specified, taking a washcloth to wipe at her hands and around her mouth as she let you inside.

“C’mon Abs, even if you did that’s—”

“I didn’t give that to you.” Abby’s voice was more serious this time, stern and strict with some urgency. Not that she was being rude about it, but she was trying to get you off her case. After a long day of patrolling where she did find goodies you would like along with some ribbons from a craft store along the way, Abby got to work making you a sweet delivery. After all, you deserved it.

“But who else would know I like apples besides you!”

“Manny, Mel, Nora, Ow–”

“Okay I didn’t ask for names.” You hushed, fiddling with the box in your hand as you looked at the treats inside. Biting at your lips, it was like being given a hug but the person who gave it to you disappeared before you can offer one better, or even fully wrap your arms around them to give one back.

“This was really sweet I just wish I could give something back.” You mumbled, tilting your head down to look at the books yearningly. Amidst the violence, the blood, and the chaos, you still loved and that was what pushed you forward. That was what erupted a fire in you; triggering your passion and jumpstarting your heart like cables to a car.

“I think you shouldn’t worry about it,” Abby suggested, not looking at you but folding her laundry to put away for safekeeping.

“What?”

“What.” Abby shot back, acting as if she didn’t say anything prior, but you heard her well. Your friend, heart, and soul were being shifty with you; acting as if she didn’t care about your treats or that you were being admired from afar by someone with a sweet gentle heart.

“Nevermind I’m being silly” You confessed, taking your words back and turning on your heels to leave her room.

Abby wasn’t going to let you leave. Lips parted as she watched your feet get closer and closer to the exit of the door.

LETS GIVE, THIS, THING A TRY.

“Show me.”

You stopped walking, turning around slowly on your heels. Part of you wished it was Abby, though she would never really know. You watched the way she looked at Owen with appreciation but also disgust. How her love turned to hatred and pain. Abby wasn’t focused on you, you would think.

Abby wasn’t focused on you.

“What?”

“I said show me,” Abby confessed, her voice as clear as day, “C’mere…” Abby patted the side of her bed where she sat comfortably.

“G‘head tell me about it. I wanna see it too” Abby gave a smile. Truth is, behind her push n’ pull — rigid love and aggression she still hoped for you. Amidst her passive-aggressiveness, she was giving the love she felt as though she would never feel again. The permanent hole in her heart that you kept on refiling and you didn’t even know.

She didn’t want you to slip through the cracks of her fingers just yet. Hiding behind a mask, cowardly shying herself away from you. Owen wasn’t on her mind but having you think that especially as she set off on a spree for the man who killed Jerry, would fix that. You were a liability, she wouldn’t let you go.

You made your way down the steps, to her bed tucked in the corner nook, sitting down as you opened the package. With that you started rambling, tossing the paper apart like a kid on Christmas, showing Abby the hardcover copies with a dopey smiley on your face. Abby couldn’t contain her own smile either. Watching as you went through each nail polish shade.

“Can I try these on you?” You held up a baby pink, it was in a ballet slipper shade, which would make a good neutral against her bright skin.

Abby wasn’t going to resist, shrugging up her shoulders against her black long-sleeve shirt, pushing the shirt up on her arms, “Sure”

So you proceeded further with painting her nails that evening, toxic paint brushing on her fingers like a canvas — while the two of you whisked away in laughter. It was like a red string wrapped around the two of your fingers, webbing you together and pulling you closer and closer until there was no gaps or lack of air.

It was pure and for the moment you really valued it. What you didn’t know you had until it was gone. You wished you could have hugged her a little bit longer, and learned more about her besides what she was showing you at a service level. You wanted to know Abigail, not Abby. Before it was snatched away from you with the snap of the fingers. Get the gunpowder dust off the sea salt it was time for war.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

YOU SAID YOU LIKED MY HAIR, SO GO AHEAD AND TOUCH IT.

I like your hair today, and your necklace xoxo, eyes from afar

Maybe it was the validation or the comments but you loved receiving the little notes wrapped in different color ribbons. Maybe you were looking forward to catching your second set of eyes. Lingering outside your door to see if they would show but it was always as if they knew your schedule. Catering to the perfect moments that you were gone to slip the delight at your door.

The note of this week – bringing joyous to your being made you wear the delicate jewelry even more. At first, when you wore it, it was just a careless decision that you did for fun. Spontaneous and last minute as you untangled it in between your fingertips pulling out the birthstone necklace that was gifted to you from no other than Abby herself; weeks before the arrival of your secret admirer. But the moment you remembered, clasping it on around your neck was the moment you truly valued it even more. You were certainly never going to take it off.

YOU SAID YOU LIKED THE JUMPER I WORE, SO I ALWAYS WORE IT.

But your bright radiating aura, evidently in hues of pink and purple; signs of love and wisdom was shortly dimmed by the chatter during your afternoon meal. You were set to follow Jordan to the Serevena, patrolling being the last thing you wanted to do of the evening. Endless pit in your stomach nothing felt right. The snap before everything fell apart.

Out for blood, out for vengeance was Abigail Anderson who returned with blood on her hands. Murderer!Murderer! Red-handed girl with fury in her eyes and a golf club sharp at the end splattering everything into two.

Wrecking havoc; causing destruction.

That was all you heard from Jordan as you chewed through the same-old burrito that evening. That was enough to make your eardrums bleed. You could feel your heart in your ears jumping out of your chest at the whispers of Abby’s name, eyes darting from table to table to hear if anyone had caught wind of such a subject:

I heard she…

Can’t imagine that…

That’s terrifying…

No Abby mention.

Coincidentally amongst Abby’s absence; the snarky girl was gone with the wind, and so was your secret admirer. The deliveries stopped coming, you were alone, with a set of eyes ‘watching you’ and apples to now peel on your own. . . you found it odd, but one thing for sure was that Abby would hear from you later, where you would gush about this admirer of yours and what you imagined them to be.

IT’S REALLY NICE TO TALK TO YOU, IT’S REALLY NICE TO HOLD YOUR HAND

“Abs on a scale of 1-10 how attractive do you think my admirer is” You pondered, hands entangled in the pages of a fashion magazine. Fingers dusting away at the thin layer of grime and grey from the dust and dirt; signs of age.

“Probably like a 3” Abby confessed bluntly as she walked around her room moving vastly to pack away her belongings.

Abby’s side of her room was neater in comparison to Manny’s, her laundry was folded, memories stored away for safekeeping, and everything was where it needed to be. Including your ribbon and the scissors she used — the bad duct tape she stole for security.

“Really?”

“Okay, maybe a 5, it could well off be a creep,” Abby muttered as she continued to push different survival items into her bag, jacket first, followed by flashlights and extra batteries.

“I don’t think it is though,” Abby froze, panicking instilling in her, it was like a vicious game of hot and cold, you creeping closer and closer to her and it was time for Abby to fall back and bring on the passiveness.

“What?”

“I mean imagine this, they send me a final letter asking me to meet by the gardens where they reveal their identity to be no other than —”

“Save that for a fantasy, I’m leaving” Abby spat, cutting the happiness in the air with a thick knife which was her voice that evening. It felt like a safety net for her to drop off bad news right after you gave the good ones, almost debunking it creating a hostile environment, and shattering the rose-tinted glasses off. Then you remembered who you were talking to, what you were doing. A flower in the middle of an apocalypse, Abby being covered in thorns.

“Is it because you killed that man”

“What makes you think it’s…who told you?” Abby furrowed her eyebrows stopping her movement to let you get a good look at her face. Abby was looking you up and down like you ripped the bandaid off her arm like you were digging your fingers into a cut infecting it with your fingertips and any active bacteria.

“Word travels around here pretty fast, this isn’t knew information”

A beat. And then another.

“Are you satisfied” You perk up, not breaking eye contact with the blonde in front of you. The fresh azul orbs dilating under the words that left your mouth. She looked at you with such admiration, but the mention of Jerry was enough to make Abby swing hard as she was back in the room holding her weapon of choice. Who was she to play god? Be the bearer of death? Call of evil? Abby thought back to what she was fighting for: was she satisfied? It wouldn’t bring her father back but there was a price on her head. Preferably until her life was obliterated and gone with her head.

“Hmm”

“Because you don’t look satisfied” Your voice cracked, you were cutting into her skin and Abby was growing steadily uncomfortable, shifting her weight. Cracking her knuckles and rolling her head as she looked at you. Like a pretty Jem stone in a dimly lit room; all eyes on you she didn’t want to talk about this with you. Someone she was so emotionally connected with, god — anybody else but you.

“I…I need to go.” Abby stood up, swinging her backpack in her arms as you followed suit in the silence.

You stood up mimicking her actions taking your magazine in between your fingers and holding it close to your chest.

“When will you be back?” you whispered, picking at the skin surrounding your nails as you rubbed your lips against each other as you rocked your body forward and backward. Abby’s eyes softened, looking at you up and down as she stuck her tongue in her cheek, clenching her jaw tightly. It almost pained her to say.

AND EVEN IF WE’RE JUST FRIENDS, WE CAN BE, MORE THAN THAT.

“Soon…I hope, I’ll be back soon” Abby asserted. Abby bowed her head, cusping your cheeks in between her hands as she gave a chaste kiss to your cheek. Calloused fingers rubbing at your soft skin, It was a friendly thing, right? Nothing more?

She didn’t even like you that much.

But you on the other hand weren’t sure of your own feelings.

Like a tough game of tug-of-war, you wanted her, then you didn’t, then you couldn’t shake yourself out of it. You liked her and you wanted her. You wished and hoped that the admirer of yours would be her. The person you had sleepovers where you would laugh about your events and enjoy the delicacies delivered by your admirer you would have it no other way.

When she pulled away you struggled to find the words, hands jittery somewhere between reaching to grab your cheek or to wipe off her kiss with your hand. You weren’t sure how to feel. It was as if someone held a gun to your head telling you the right pill or blue.

“May your survival be long” you reminded, holding a hand at your arm scratching at your sleeves.

“May your death be swift”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

CALL ME AT MIDNIGHT, LETS GIVE THIS THING A TRY.

If you could do it all again you would.

ASK YOU IF ITS OKAY,

You were alone, deep into your ocean of thoughts as your happy moments were coming to an end? Did you take it for granted?

TO HAVE A SLEEPOVER,

The burrito you ate that evening wanting to come up, mouth sticky with bile. You suddenly didn’t want to patrol the Serevena and help Nora move supplies. It felt wrong – almost impractical like you were in the wrong place. Foot cemented into the floor as you stood at your bed. Shoving supplies into your backpack, tying a strand of the ribbon from your admirer's box around the handle of your bag. You wanted to be back at the base with Abby where the two of you would have your sleepovers, cut your apples, and have competitive matches in the shooting range where you would tell Abby she missed a shot and she would tell you, you held the gun wrong.

Preparing to leave, doing one final spin at your place of comfort. Freshly made bed and sorrowful grey sheets, you wished for a happier time and a great release. Opening your door, you were met with one box before you would go. Picking up the lightweight box it almost felt impractical to even be wrapped.

TO DRINK SOME APPLE CIDER, OR MAYBE SOME FRUIT PUNCH

Parting gift for the one I stole these for… don’t forget me Xoxo, A. Anderson Your eyes always

You smiled to yourself, it was all you ever wanted. Your best friend really was your admirer and you just hoped you could reach her before she was gone and it truly could have been your last time seeing her. Unwrapping the terribly wrapped paper object revealed a shiny sharpened knife with a brown handle. It was Abby’s knife, the one she savored and used only for your apples that she would cut during your lunch breaks. Tears brimmed your eyes moving the object around as if it were malleable, smiling gently to yourself at the irony of it all. Quickly locking the door and throwing the paper that was used to wrap the gift away in the hall trash you ran to try to catch Abby who was already on the truck, across from Mel as she set off on her journey. As the sun was getting low, so were you who had to travel adjacent from your new fount lover.

What were you gonna say?

Besides: I knew it, of course, you wanted her to know that you felt the same; in fact even more.

AND WE CAN TALK ABOUT HOW WE DON’T LIKE EACH OTHER THAT MUCH.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“There’s no real you are real right now”

“Shh– baby, I’m real” Abby hushed bringing up her hand to your mouth to silence you. “I’m real.”

You were currently carrying a tray of med supplies but soon it all crashed to the ground; metal tin hitting the floor as Abby backed away into a corner. She looked disheveled different than you had last seen her; whispies around her face. Like she cared a little bit more, but maybe it was because she was with you.

You couldn’t help but bring Abby into a tight hug head against her shoulder, resting your eyes in full solitude. You were home amidst the violence and her going AWOL that had made Isaac angry with all of you. You lied thickly through your teeth when Isaac dragged you in asking questions about the location and conspiration Abby had going on.

All you could say was you didn’t know.

And it wasn’t a lie but in fact the truth there was not much you really did know.

Abby held onto you as if you were going to be snatched out of her hands as the both of you cried. Sobbs shaking the both of you. Abby couldn’t stop herself from applying gentle kisses to the side of your head and holding at the nape of your neck during the hug.

“You look like shit!” you acknowledged pulling at the sleeve of her jacket to which Abby rolled her eyes and pulled your hand away.

“Ahh could be worse”

A beat. And another; comfortable silence filling the air between the two of you. You didn’t wanna ask but for your newfound knowledge, you had no other choice but to. You wanted her to know, hell you haven’t seen her for very long and this well could have been the last time you would ever.

“So it was you? All along” you sputtered, snickering under your breath as you brought your hands across your chest, licking the base of your lips as your eyes wandered off.

“It was – hey! You opened the letters” Abby gave you a look of disbelief, half of it was due to her being scared shitless, others it was the fact that Abby could feel her own hands getting clammy as she rubbed them against the base of her jeans to get it to stop.

“It said 2 —”

“Weeks I know” “I was desperate”

There was silence again.

“I could just kiss you right now I can’t believe you are alive” You blurted out, giving Abby the most gentle smile. Abby for a second felt her world move in slow motion as she stared with such unconditional love.

“Then do it”

So you did, rushing forward, throwing your body against Abby’s as the two of you leaned in for a swift kiss. Her lips were chapped, slightly rugged but you didn’t mind applying your smooth ones to her as the movements of your body synched together in eternal sunshine. Nothing in this moment mattered, besides her lips on yours and her hands against your body. Abby’s fingers stroked at your cheeks eventually moving down between your jaw and your neck as she continued. No breaks; no air, until the sound of boots stomping closer to the room rang your ears, forcing you to pull away.

“Okay, I need supplies miserably Nora brought me to you, I have to go, I don’t know if this will be my last time seeing you: I hope it’s not, I’m not exactly in Isaac’s good graces – I think we both know that” Abby spoke with urgency, distrust but also sadness. Abby wasn’t sure but recently she’s been feeling as though things were slipping in between her fingers. She wasn’t sure how long this ecstasy and rapture would last, or the longevity of her contentment. Abby was certain the girl from the room; with the golf club and joel would show her face again.

“It’s okay” you assured, hands now at Abby’s biceps, lips rubbing against each other as you turned your head away from her face, shaking it slightly.

“But don’t forget. . .” “I’m so incredibly infatuated by you” Abby whispered as she moved in closer to give a swift kiss to your forehead.

Now wasn’t the time for formalities or titles, but you wished with your fingers crossed and your eyes closed shut, that she would return for the conversation worth having. Full honesty and confessional where your girl that smelled of pine would tell you all her rushes of thoughts that nagged at her as she closed her eyes.

“Knife to the chest sweetheart, swing with your right not your left…it’s your better arm” Abby cautioned, pretending to bring her arm up to swing, giving a final squeeze to your cheek as she was headed for the door preparing for ground zero.

“Bye Abby”

That was the difference, it was as if your body knew. Saying Bye instead of a see you later or, playfully threatening her to come back to you in one piece. Your eyebrows furrowed; your face scrunched as you cringed at your words, as mediocre as they sounded. You caught yourself doing that a lot and you weren’t sure why. Going from present tense to past tense. “I am” to “I did” to “I was” , this happened after you started dreaming. Dreaming that your body was against a cold tile, scrunching into a ball as you let out your last breath alone.

You knew.

“This is not goodbye — don’t say that, it’s see you later!” Abby snapped, giving you a hand motion as she swung the door open, crouching down as she moved steadily through the room as it closed behind her with a loud CLICK! From the lock.

“I’ll see you later” Your hand went from waving to at your side as your smile dropped and abruptly the warm room felt cold. Very cold.

But you weren’t going to see her later. Body paralyzed to the floor as the bullet wound in your stomach bled crimson all over the floor. As red as the Honeycrisp apples you ate on Wednesdays. An auburn-haired girl rushes past you following the footsteps of Nora. You were crashing and your body was failing you. Whimpers of pain escaped your lips as you held onto your stomach like you had a bad stomach ache, rolling onto your side as your vision became a nuisance and blurry mess. During your last few moments, you thought of Abby and her bright smile, all the plans she had for the two of you, and how you were finally happy that you got your happy ending,

But at what cost?

You weren’t going to get to drink apple cider with her or hug her again, and that’s what destroyed you the most as a salted tear fell from your eye. Apple was placed on the table rotting from the inside out, With Abby’s knife poked into its core. Death has met its match.

You were the apple of her eye, and you were destroyed and eaten whole indefinitely.

taglist

@beforeimdeceased @starologist @destielcore @rarestdoll @luvrgalore @ellsss @zahraaziza @emluvselandabs @abbyily @elliestrwbrry @mossc0vered @spacewlf @as2rid @ariianelle @spaceshipellie @lottiematthewsceo @emonopolyman @imamybubbles @mikasbby @trulygnomed

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another-lost-mc · 1 year

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dessert first | solomon x gn!reader

cw: sfw. fluff and humor with some suggestiveness. descriptions of food and cooking. wc: 0.7k+

If cooking is a love language, then Solomon is convinced that no one can cook more delicious, heart-warming food for you than he can.

He doesn’t notice your apprehension whenever he brings a steaming plate of something to the table. You bought him an apron as a gag gift once ("HOT STUFF CUMIN THRU"), and it's splattered in what can only be described as radioactive waste with it's odd colour and pungent smell.

You're relieved - barely - that the food can't be too acidic, since there's no holes burned through the apron's delicate fabric yet.

(You know Solomon loves that silly apron you gave him. Barbatos told him how to remove even the most stubborn biohazardous material - err, food stains - from it. You know later that Solomon will hum happily when he prepares it for the laundry, and when it's clean he'll fold it and tuck it away safely for next time. He always wears it when he cooks for you.)

Since you’ve known him, and especially since you started dating, you’ve pondered one question: is Solomon completely oblivious to your reactions when he cooks, or is he completely sadistic?

Sometimes your eyes water when he makes something that's far too sour. He holds a hand over his heart and says how happy he is that you're so moved by his cooking that it would bring you to tears. You let him brush away the stray tears with his thumb and kiss your cheeks - it's the least he can do.

Sometimes you clamp your mouth shut and try not to shudder as sharp, searing pains ravage your stomach. He's flattered that you're rendered speechless by his creation - and did you know that he modified the recipe specifically for you? He beams at you from his seat across the table while you try to focus on his words and distract yourself from the agony tearing your insides apart.

Later you mention as casually as you can that you'd like to lay down for a while. He tucks into the space behind you on the couch and hums in your ear while you nap - or pass out, you're honestly not sure which.

Today, you expect the same as all the meals he’s made for you before. He takes off his apron and sets it aside to wash later. Your steely resolve melts just a little because he treats it so gently, like it's more than just a common apron to him (because it is).

You look at his culinary offering today, some sort of stew the colour of burnt orange with hints of purple. It bubbles menacingly in the serving dish he places on the table. You scoop a small amount into your bowl - you try not to grimace when he insists that you help yourself - and grab your spoon. He helps himself next, and he's already digging in when you bring a mouthful shakily to your lips.

It doesn't smell too bad up close, and you can pick out the familiar scent of the unique blend of herbs and spiced he used. The first mouthful goes down easily, surprisingly so, and you chuckle when the tension melts from your body. You expected so much worse.

You're helping yourself to your fourth spoonful, more generous than the others before, when the delayed reaction hits you. Your throat closes in protest and you spit out the soup. Solomon's shirt is covered in it.

It feels like time freezes as embarrassment and horror flood through you. There's a dribble of soup running down your lip, and the spoon clatters loudly when it drops on the table.

Solomon looks stunned by your reaction.

You wipe your mouth with a napkin and try to sputter apologies and clean up the mess, and—why is he standing up and taking off his clothes?

You gape at him while he strips off his shirt and lets it drop in a heap on the floor beside his chair; you're distracted by the unexpected sight of his bare chest.

He sighs dramatically with his hands on his hips, and instead of seeing hurt or anger in his eyes, they twinkle with something like mischievous delight.

"Oh, darling," he teases you, slowly unbuckling his belt. "There's no need to waste food like that. If you wanted to have dessert first, all you had to do was ask."

read more: solomon masterlist | obey me! masterlist

#obey me #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #solomon x reader #obey me x reader #x reader #gn!reader #tw food

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jessamine-rose · 7 months

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˚˖ ࣪ ⊹.°˖˚ A Candlelit Dinner ˚˖°.⊹ ࣪ ˖ ˚

Aka “Jessamine makes her cannibalism debut ft. La Signora after sharing too many crack ideas with @beloved-blaiddyd” (*-`ω´- )ﻭ✧

Tw:: yandere, cannibalism, Stockholm Syndrome, offscreen death, 2.1 spoilers

♡ 1.1k words under the cut ♡

You aren’t allowed to attend your wife’s funeral.

Truthfully, it doesn’t surprise you. The world broke Rosalyne’s heart when it took the life of her previous lover, and so she refused to take a gamble with you. Anything to guarantee your safety, to ensure that you’d always be there to welcome her home.

It’s strange. The manor has always been peaceful during her missions, but the silence is stifling in La Signora’s eternal absence. The servants are gloomy; your hobbies feel tedious; and time freezes to an endless monotony of lamentation.

You don’t know what to do with your freedom. How long ago did you cease your prayers and find comfort in Rosalyne’s love? When did you start calling your prison a home?

A few weeks after the funeral, your handmaiden suggests a trip to the city for a change of pace. Such an invitation is unheard of, but the rules mean nothing without the looming threat of the Fair Lady’s rage. She likely pities you.

Instead, you take a short walk around the manor. The Snezhnayan winter is colder this year, or perhaps you’ve grown too accustomed to Rosalyne’s warmth.

ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ઇଓ

The kitchen was where you fell in love with Rosalyne.

Cooking was your favorite way to spend time together. It required patience, harmony, a mutual trust with knives and fire.

In those moments of domesticity, she was neither the Fair Lady nor the Crimson Witch of Flame. She was just Rosalyne, your self-proclaimed wife who sang while she worked and adjusted recipes to your personal tastes. She was in charge of the seasonings, courtesy of her time in Sumeru which provided an informal education in sugar and spices.

Once the meal was ready, the two of you would proceed to the dining table. She’d sit across from you and light the candelabra with a graceful flick of her fingers, flames blooming atop of pure white wax. Only then could you admire her fire without a modicum of fear.

During her missions, Rosalyne would purchase gifts for you. Most of the time, she came home with special ingredients to use in your cooking dates. Seafood from Morepesok, wine from Mondstadt, Jueyun chilis from Liyue, and so on.

You haven’t set foot in the kitchen since Rosalyne’s death. Neither do you eat at the dining table; you tell the servants to bring your meals to your room.

You can only manage a few bites before you grow sick of the dull taste in your mouth.

ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ઇଓ

Rosalyne’s final gift is a spice blend from Inazuma.

It is delivered a month after her funeral, a fancy box filled with little porcelain jars. Each jar is beautifully crafted, painted with crimson roses and butterflies.

Your wife’s subordinates won’t look you in the eye. In a rehearsed tone, they inform you that prior to her death, La Signora had made a bulk purchase of shichimi togarashi. The containers were custom-made, hence the delay in their arrival.

“The Fair Lady was adamant that you receive this gift, no matter the circumstances. We ask that you honor her final wish and enjoy this spice blend in your future meals.”

How did you respond? Was it a halfhearted nod or a few words of gratitude? All you remember is your walk from the foyer to the kitchen, shelves and countertops cleared, the porcelain chill of each jar as you pick them up and display them on every flat surface.

You once told Rosalyne that your kitchen could use more color. It appears that she took your request to heart.

The sun sets as you finish the task. At this hour, Rosalyne would be home and the two of you would begin the kitchen prep. What was your first meal together?

It was steak served with potato roses. Back then, you suggested potato roses out of a fearful desire to please her.

The meal takes longer to prepare. The chef offers their assistance but you refuse, taking out ingredients and cutting them with your familiar knife. The potatoes only need butter and a few seasonings, but the steak…you think you’ll try the shichimi.

You open a jar and scoop out a small portion of shichimi. It is a fiery shade of orange, likely from the chili pepper. The powdered spices are mixed with aonori, peppercorns, sesame seeds—what are those coarse, gray particles?

Maybe it is an ingredient native to Inazuma.

The steak is marinated. Your attention shifts back to the potatoes, the slices arranged in a rosette pattern. It takes a while; Rosalyne was always better at this.

After the potato roses are baked, the steak is seared. You almost overcook it—you always cooked Rosalyne’s first, and the two of you preferred different levels of doneness—but it’s salvaged at the last second. Then you arrange the food on your plate, recalling Rosalyne’s plating techniques. She knew how to make a meal look so pretty, so appetizing…

You bring your plate to the dining table. The chair in front of you is empty, and the candelabra is unlit. A servant lights the candles in Rosalyne’s place, but his flames are dimmer and he doesn’t pay attention to your reaction.

You pick up your knife and cut into the steak.

It looks normal, with a bloody center. You cut a small piece, stab it with your fork, and bring it to your mouth.

It tastes…unique.

There is the spiciness of the chili pepper, the sweetness of the citrus peel, umami from the other spices. But there are other flavors—bitter, metallic, smoky. You’re not quite sure if you like it.

Yet you can’t help but take another bite. And another. Another one, with the potato roses. Before you know it, your mouth is trembling and your vision is blurring. Through a veil of tears, you notice that your plate is already half-empty.

You stand up and return to the kitchen, ignoring the servants’ questions. Instead, you come back with the crimson-painted jar and add another spoonful of shichimi to your steak.

Now there’s too much seasoning. But you don’t mind; you mix it into the potato roses and continue eating, savoring the complex flavors.

How was Rosalyne in her final days? You can imagine her in an Inazuman market, looking for the perfect gift for her spouse. The smile on her face as she approved the shichimi and spoke with an esteemed craftsman. The moment of her death—How much pain was she in? Did her flames leave a mark on the Tenshukaku? Did she think of you?

It’s just like her to ensure that you’ll never despair over a bland meal, even in her death.

It almost feels as though she is still with you.

♡

…….Don’t ask me how a few DMs turned into 1.1k words bc idk either. And cheers to my Google history going from “spice blends” to “togarashi steak recipe” to “cremated ashes texture” to “what do ashes taste like” ^^;

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed my tribute to La Signora!! Thanks again to Brynlee for this tasty idea, and may Hoyoverse not kill off the other Fatui Harbingers ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡

#la signora #yandere signora #signora x reader #yandere la signora x reader #rosalyne kruzchka lohefalter #genshin x reader #yandere genshin #fatui x reader #yandere fatui harbingers #tw: yandere #tw: dark #tw: death #tw: cannibalism #g/n reader #jessamine-writing

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archonsoflove · 1 year

Text

His love language | part 1

featuring: alhaitham, zhongli, kaveh x gender neutral! reader

{words of affirmation}

Alhaitham is a quiet soul. Late nights are spent with parchment paper illuminated by warm candlelight. And in these quiet moments he finds himself writing letters to you. Your travels to Fontaine for research have left him noticing your absence, carving a space hollow in his heart until your return.

I can never say it enough, but I adore you, and wish you the safest of travels. Come back to me in one piece. The letter he gave to you before your departure two days prior.

I find myself thinking of you more often once the sun sets. Busy days give way to night, and my mind is no longer filled with work, but of you, and wondering what sights you are seeing without me beside you. This is what he writes this particular evening.

He seals the letter with a wax seal, intricate lettering on the front addressed to the nation across the mountains. If he could write a million more poems, prose and letters, he would, knowing you would read every single one of them.

•

{quality time}

Evenings with Zhongli are spent walking through the Harbour. Lanterns spill golden light onto your faces, and whenever he catches your eye, his breath hitches, words leaving him completely.

After years of experiencing and feeling, he is certain you are the love he had been searching for all this time.

He speaks of legends long gone, and old friends from decades past. And if you could, you would listen to him for as long as he is able to weave stories into being.

Tea in the mornings is brewed to perfection. You wake to Zhongli puttering in the kitchen, the fresh smell of mint and honey in the air rousing you from sleep. Silk sheets brush against naked skin as you sit down – at his stubborn request – to try his tediously perfected blend.

The sun leaking through a window leaves him entranced, and he can not help but kiss you tenderly, sweet tea on your lips and between tongues. Peaceful mornings like these, where you both have all the time in the world to bask in each other’s presence is what you love most.

•

{giving gifts}

Kaveh is sincere and giving to a fault. Silver bracelets, spices and light novels brought home from international projects are the least of your worries now. Returning from a project in the desert with a small desert fox bundled up in Kaveh’s cloak tells you all you need to know.

This time, his gift is very different and very much alive.

“I know you said we weren’t ready to adopt, but maybe, just maybe….” Kaveh steps cautiously into the living room, handing the bundle over to you tentatively. “Maybe we can keep this little one?”

“Oh, Kaveh…” you sigh in both awe and exasperation. The little bundle wriggles in your grasp and a small head pops out. Tan ears flop out first, before a pointy black nose is nuzzling against your hand.

“A fox!” You couldn’t contain the smile fighting against your scowl. “Kaveh…how did you even catch this one?”

Kaveh gives you a relieved laugh, a light flush high on his cheekbones. “They followed me home from the desert. I think they lost their mother. I simply couldn’t leave them there!”

“They?” your eyes widen. “There are more?”

Later that evening, Alhaitham knocks on your door, a box in hand. Sure enough there are two more foxes. It seemed your family of two was now five, and you couldn’t help but think that it was just the perfect number.

-------- 》 Part 2

MASTERLIST

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nakedcows · 1 year

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Hello! I gotta request. I love Aemond as many of the girlies do. But I never find fics for the plus size girls. I’m a firm believer that Aemond would like a plus size woman. When you have a moment of time I’d love to see a plus size reader x Aemond type fic. Of course I’d be here for some spice too. I’d just really like to see more representation ☺️ thank you for your time and I hope you have a wonderful day!

A/N: I'm terribly sorry for the delay. I had a draft ready that didn't save so my inspiration took a big hit. I haven't thought about it before, but now that you say it I do think Aemond would lean more toward plus sized women. I can't explain why i just feel like it falls inline with his character. Thank you for your request!!

summary: Aemond gifts Y/n new clothes that inspire her to take the lead tonight

warnings: smut p n v, slight degrading (not of the reader), body shaming (it's not very much don't worry), sub Aemond

Word count 1.4k

Y/n was entranced by the stranger staring back at her in the mirror. The woman standing in her mirror resembled the fair ladies from books she had read as a girl. Ones where brave knights fight to the death and love-struck monarchs conquer kingdoms for the chance to embrace their true love.

The emerald green dress she wore had no sleeves and hung off her shoulders. Y/n was not used to dressing in such a manner she had become accustomed to frumpy, loose fitted clothing that hid her figure. Y/n’s mother had insisted that despite the high ranking of their house, it was imperative to hide the plump figure she had inherited from her to guarantee proposals from the lords of the court. However, her dear Aemond had thought otherwise. He began to court Y/n and questioned why a lady of her rank wore such ill-fitting clothing. After Y/n had confided in Aemond about her mother's advice, he disposed of her dresses and commissioned a new wardrobe of custom-made dresses with matching jewelry for his love. Y/n admired her newfound figure and how her bodice hugged her thick waist instead of hanging loosely. Layers of skirt gracefully laid against her wide hips complimented with embroidery. The mousy-looking girl had disappeared under hair tied in intricate braids decorated with rare jewels and a beauteous dress accentuating her curved figure. Y/n always felt as though she was meant to be invisible, to blend into the background unnoticed and unmentioned unless she was needed. But now, with her full body glittering in the open free to be seen, she felt confident.

“You are enchanting, my love,” Aemond said. He had briefly left for Y/n to dress and retrieve the final piece to her ensemble. Aemond stood behind her, unable to break his gaze from her captivating, newfound appearance.

Aemond delicately clasped a sapphire necklace cut from the same gem in his eye.

“What do you think, dear heart?” he asked as his hands drifted from Y/n’s neck to her shoulders

“I think it’s... perfect,” she said, gliding her hands under her plump chest. “I look perfect.” Y/n smiled brightly at her reflection. The rush of finally recognizing the glowing beauty in her mirror was the same modestly dressed woman that she saw a few hours ago. Y/n felt invincible at this moment she could do anything, say anything and the surefooted woman in her mirror would protect her from fear and persecution with a glance. She turned to Aemond with a new vigor. It was an unfamiliar feeling that bubbled in her core and climbed up to her chest. Aemond had always taken the lead. He led when they held hands when they kissed, and he led when they were intimate. But tonight, she would take command. Y/n grabbed the back of Aemond’s head greedily, pulling him flush against her body for a languid kiss. Aemond grinned into the kiss, stroking her rounded hips, causing the sensation in her core to swell. Y/n slowly pulled from him. Her whole body felt as though someone had set aflame her from the inside.

“You promised me once that you would do anything for me. I need only ask. Is that still true? Y/n asked, meeting his eyes.

“Of course, my dear,” the fingers on his neck glided into his hair to stroke his scalp.

“Then get on your knees for me,” Y/n’s light stroking turned into a tight grip as she yanked Aemond’s head back by his hair. Aemond breath hitched from the sudden tension on his scalp. Y/n had never done this before yet as he prostrated himself before her the hand in his hair leading him to kneel, he felt the blood rushing to his cock.

“What do you wish of me Y/n?”

“Hmm I don’t think using my name suits you very well my dear,” she said smirking.

“Oh?”

“No, you are a proper gentleman are you not? Then you should refer to me like one. I think ‘My lady’ will do for now, don’t you?” Aemond felt his breeches tighten as she leaned in and paused just before their lips met.

“Answer me Aemond.”

“Yes, my lady,” Y/n closed the gap between them, devouring his lips. Aemond could hear his heart pounding as his member began to throb. He was used to being in control. There was safety in control letting that part of him slip for even a second led to disaster. Aemond craved rest for someone to ease that unmoving tension in his mind and giving his power to Y/n would do just that.

“Good boy, strip and lay on the bed for me,” she said releasing his hair. Aemond stood from his spot on the floor in favor of removing his doublet and breeches before laying on the bed desperate to obey. Aemond felt his length harden as Y/n waltzed up to the bed and slowly skipped out of her sleeves pulling her bodice down, exposing her full breast and removed her small clothes, leaving her the remainder of her dress on. His red tip now peaked out from the protection of its fleshy folds at the sight. His shy elegant lady turned dominating temptress. Aemond reached down to stroke himself but was met with a quick slap.

“Proper gentlemen don’t touch themselves, Aemond. It is quite unseemly,” she said, climbing onto the bed to straddle him.

“Y-Yes my lady.”

“You know improper gentlemen believe they are owed the pleasure they crave-” Y/n pulled her skirt up, revealing thick plush thighs coated in slick from her dripping mound, causing Aemond’s breath to quicken and his cock to throb. “But a proper gentleman asks for his desires, doesn’t he, Aemond? Why don’t you ask me for what it is you desire my dear?” Y/n lowered herself a bit allowing Aemond’s tip to just barely graze her entrance. Aemond gasped, trying to hold himself together. Whenever he had coupled with Y/n, Aemond would take her hips and impale her with his length whenever he felt the urge, yet at this moment doing such a thing without her explicit permission felt as though he would be committing an unforgivable sin of the highest caliber.

“Please my lady, use my cock.” Aemond said, bringing his hands up and sinking his fingers into her soft hips.

“Hmm I don’t know. You don’t seem to want me enough. Perhaps I should stop,” she said slowly lowering her skirt. The gentle throbbing of Aemonds cock developed into torturous ache.

“No, my lady, please I need you. Please let me fill your cunny. I need it. I’m throbbing for you. I need to fill you around me my lady,” Y/n grinned and lifted her skirt once more.

“There you go sweet boy begging for me like a proper gentleman,” Y/n dropped onto his cock taking him all at once. Normally Y/n would ask Aemond to be slow and gentle with her, but here and now, consumed by her newfound vigor, she didn’t want to be gentle. She didn’t want to be delicate. She wanted to take everything for herself. Y/n sank, allowing Aemond to bottom out. He could feel her cunt constrict around his cock as if she wanted to meld him into her insides. Her folds would only briefly release him from their tight grip before clenching around him once again. Y/n could feel Aemond’s cock pulsating inside her. The tip of his cock pressed against the spongy back of her cunt. Y/n rocked her hips, enthralled by how the sensation of absolute control enhanced her pleasure. Aemond felt as though he was unraveling every time Y/n’ hips dropped to meet his. Aemond was consumed with an unrelenting craving that devoured his entire being. He needed her. He needed more.

“Faster my lady! Please, I need more of you!”

“Good boy asking so nicely for his lady,” Y/n sped up, bouncing on Aemond’s cock quicker, the heat in her core building to a peak ready to snap at any moment. Y/n reached for Aemond’s hands. She pressed his left hand against her pearl and held onto his right one. Aemond rolled small circles on Y/n’s pearl already covered in her slick and tangled his fingers with hers. Adding pressure to the sensitive bud when their hips met each other.

“I’m going to cum. Are you ready, Aemond?” she said leaning down, losing herself in his violet eye.

“Yes please, I need to feel you cum around me my lady!” she couldn’t hold on any longer. Squeezing Aemonds hand Y/n fell apart as her orgasm flooded across her body, causing her legs to shake and her body to fall limp against Aemond. The pleasure of taking Aemond as she pleased pushed Y/n’s high to another plane of existence. One where she was everything and nothing all at once. Unburdened. Unshackled. Untouched. Aemond felt himself burst inside of Y/n his back arching. He had never reached a peak like this before. He could feel tingling all throughout his body that turned into blissful burning reaching to the tips of his toes. They laid together for a moment, their heavy breathing filling the heady air. Y/n sat up a bit and placed a gentle kiss on Aemond’s temple still damp from the excitement.

“Did I do well for you, my lady?”

“You were the perfect gentleman.”

Please reblog and comment

#aemond targaryen x plus sized! reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #plus sized reader #chubby reader #fanfiction requests #request answered #requested #dom reader #submisive aemond #sub aemond targaryen

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gallifreyinstituteforlearning · 9 months

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🤔🎁 What gift would suit my Gallifreyan and their biology?

Choosing the perfect present for a Gallifreyan can be a challenge, given their unique biological and cultural attributes. Here are some gift ideas that humans can obtain:

1. Time-Based/Perspective Artwork: Consider artwork that changes or evolves over time. Ephemeral art, or art that shifts with perspective like a Lenticular could probably amuse them for hours.

2. Sensory Experience Gifts: Gallifreyans, with their heightened senses, would revel in gifts that tantalise multiple senses. Think along the lines of a set of exotic spices, or a collection of soundscapes. (Yes, like a mix tape).

3. Telepathic Communication Enhancers: Consider something that facilitates or enriches their telepathic abilities. If you can't get your hands on a Metebelis crystal or equivalent, consider a meditation aid or a voucher for a meditative retreat experience.

4. Historical books or experiences: Amuse them with historical books or interactive historical experiences. They'll find the human interpretation of history hilarious.

5. Puzzle Games: These could be physical puzzles that require assembly in a non-linear sequence, such as a Lotus Puzzle Box, or video games that involve navigating through time-based challenges.

6. Aromatic Plants or Oils: Given their sensitivity to scents, a selection of aromatic plants or essential oils from various corners of the galaxy would be a delightful and soothing gift. Choose fragrances that are known to have calming or invigorating effects.

So, as you mull over the perfect gift, remember - for a Gallifreyan's unique biology, it’s all about the blend of time, senses, and intellect. Happy shopping!

Gallifreyan Biology for Tuesday by GIL

More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A →😆Jokes |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

#doctor who #dr who #dw eu #gallifreyans #GIL biology #GIL #gallifrey institute for learning #gallifreyan biology #Time Lord biology #TOTW: Christmas is coming #whoniverse #mcu

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literateowl · 19 days

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hey there, i’m trying to spread some positivity after yesterday’s news, here’s a nice ask for you

what kind of tea do you think is each character’s go to?

Hellooo thank you so much for this delightful question 🩷💜🩷💜

Starting with Marjan because our home girl is probably the QUEEN of tea, like she is of many other things. She likes all of it and definitely has at least a mint plant for cooking and tea brewing, if not more of a little tea/herb garden going on. She has her own Moroccan Mint recipe that she tweaked and experimented with. I also just came up with the hc that she's the reason TK and Carlos have that large box of tea selection when they're setting up to talk to officiants. She gave it to them as a housewarming/glad you're not broken up anymore gift. Also she got almost everyone to expand their tea horizons too.

We know TK and Owen like to drink green tea. And I can totally see Owen with a whole fancy matcha set up that he uses at home on his days off.

TK's favorite is jasmine green or white tea with honey and lemon or Marjan's Moroccan Mint tea (<-that's very cute alliteration I just did)

Carlos also likes a variety but I imagine his favorite is something spiced with cream or milk like Chai or Thai tea

Mateo is obsessed with Marjan's mint tea recipe but he likes it iced and Marjan lets him do it even though she thinks it's weird because he's her little brother now.

Nancy likes a chamomile or Earl Grey blend with vanilla. She adds only a little bit of honey.

Paul's favorite is either ginger tea or sweet tea. Depending on the vibe.

Tommy drinks a hot toddy after a stressful day or when she feels like she's starting to get sick. (Link to a recipe if you don't know what that is)

Grace canonically loves English breakfast (or she did when she was pregnant at least) but she bothered Judd until he got her a peppermint plant too on Marjan's suggestion.

Judd only likes Texas sweet tea. He thinks all hot tea just tastes like grass even though he is polite and will try it again if offered to him.

#TEA HEADCANONS #can you tell I've been thinking a lot about Marjan #this was so fun to write!#speaking of which i need to go check on MY peppermint plant lol #ask box #nice asks #jessica asks 💚

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julietthereaper · 2 years

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A Not-So-Hollow Christmas

~ A PrinceFox fanfic ~

Author’s Note -

prompt I seen from @jackstheprinceofhearts ! their account is amazing, especially if you are in some desperate need for broken heart content. thank you for posting your wonderful prompt! It was too cute for me to pass up

this IS my first post on tumblr, although this fic will also be posted to my ouabh collection on wattpad (my handle is jennacanread if ur interested!). I haven’t read tbona since the release date so I hope no one’s too out of character?

(obviously) spoilers for tbona | minor uses of swearing | set during the Hollow chapters and briefly after the end of tbona | not canon compliant

Summary -

After discovering Jacks isn’t the biggest fan of Christmas, Evangeline plots to turn him into a festive softy, even if it means making a few extra deals with a Fate.

Evangeline always had a sixth sense, just like how bells did. Although her sixth sense wasn't nearly as helpful as it was for bells. She could sense it when she woke up that morning it was time to start celebrating her favourite holiday of the year.

Christmas.

She squealed giddily as she launched herself out of bed, choosing a pretty Christmas-red dress to get festive, her pink hair blending nicely with the red silk. Evangeline slipped on some gold jewellery to spice it up before heading to the main area in the Hollow.

When Evangeline passed by the dining room, Jacks was already sitting at the table, sipping on a mug of spiced cider. He arched an amused eyebrow at her. "What's got you grinning like a fox?"

Evangeline snickered lightly at his wordplay. "It's Christmas season!"

Jacks amused expression fell. "Oh, of course you're one of those people."

"You don't like Christmas?"

He set his mug down on the table. "It's all awful singing, terrible gifts that no one wants, and distasteful decorations."

Despite Jacks's bahumbug attitude towards the holidays, it did not dampen her mood. In fact, all that rang through her mind was challenge accepted.

Evangeline was going to make Jacks enjoy Christmas, no matter what it took.

She took hold of his cold wrist, tugging him up. "We need a tree."

"We already have some outside."

"A Christmas tree, Jacks. We need to go hunting for a Christmas tree. A big one, to fit in the main room."

"Absolutely not."

Jacks was, unsurprisingly, being difficult. Evangeline had planned for this. "Alright, Prince of Hearts. I'd like to make another deal."

"You haven't even completed your first one." Although his tone was low, his mouth stretched into a grin.

"Think of this like a side quest. What do you want in exchange for a Christmas tree?"

He hooked a finger under her chin, tilting her head back slightly. Her heart picked up in speed. "Another night."

Evangeline's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. But before she could ask, he continued.

"Another night of you being mine."

Evangeline could have sworn her heart was going to explode from her chest.

Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea-

Evangeline hushed that voice in her head. She held out her hand. "Deal."

Jacks shook it. "Haven't you heard the warnings about making more than one deal with a Fate, Little Fox?"

"I'm choosing to ignore those warnings in favour of Christmas spirit."

Jacks bent his head to nibble the shell of her ear. "Bad choice."

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

It was the first time, Evangeline had realized, that she had been a distance from the Hollow since she arrived. They needed to find a Christmas tree farm so they could find the perfect tree.

Evangeline noted how rigid Jacks was beside her, his jaw was set, shoulders tight, and his gaze kept flicking towards her. Was there danger somewhere? Had she said something wrong since they left the Hollow?

Evangeline bumped him with her shoulder. "Why are you so tense?"

Jacks' eyes narrowed at her, blue eyes searching hers analytically. "Do you feel any different?"

"About what?"

His eyes fleeted to the sky a moment as they walked. "In general. Do you want to run away from me, Little Fox?"

Jacks was acting strange, and she didn't understand why. She tried to ease him with a joke. "Not anymore than usual."

He exhaled, breath visible in the chilled air around them. Jacks' lips formed a smile. His shoulders relaxed and his steps came more natural than soldier-reporting-for-duty.

Evangeline liked him a lot when he was happy. She tried not to. Tried telling herself that he was a Fate and it was such a bad idea.

Instead, she grabbed his hand.

Her mouth went dry and her head emptied as she realized what she had done, the only thing she could think about was his hand in hers.

Jacks removed his hand from hers quickly. "What are you doing?"

His words sent her mind in a panic. Despite the snow falling and how cold it was, hot embarrassment fled to her cheeks, face aflame. "I was just... forget about it."

Evangeline gnawed on her cheek, keeping her eyes ahead and refusing to look his way.

That was when rough fingers fiddled with her hand until both of their fingers were intertwined.

She looked up at Jacks. His eyes softened as he caught her gaze from the corner of his eye.

Her lips parted into a wide smile that Evangeline couldn't contain. Jacks was holding her hand. There was something so intimate about the action, it shushed all of the warning voices in her head. His palm pressed to hers warmly, their arms lightly swinging in unison.

Evangeline looked up from their hands to see Miller's Tree Farm.

"We're here!" Evangeline exclaimed excitedly, pointing at the sign with the hand that wasn't holding Jacks'.

"Alright, go pick one out." Jacks nodded towards the trees.

"You have to help, too. It's part of our deal."

He groaned as Evangeline tugged him forward.

"Come on, you stubborn prince!" She laughed, using her strength to drag him.

"Only because I never fail to uphold my ends of deals."

Evangeline secretly hoped that he actually wanted to pick out a tree with her.

"We have to find the perfect one, Jacks. It can't be any old tree. It has to be the tree."

"Are you even hearing yourself right now?"

"You'll know it when you feel it."

Reluctantly, Jacks trailed beside her, hands still attached as they walked through the farm. Evangeline spotted a pretty tree around the corner. She dropped his hand to dash towards it.

Evangeline heard him mutter Dead Saints, Little Fox, under his breath. She inspected the tree when she reached it, pine needles lightly prickling her hands as they moved along it.

A mischievous thought popped up in her head when she realized it wasn't the right tree. She bent down to scoop up some snow in her hand before Jacks reached her. She stood up abruptly, hiding the snow behind her back.

"What's wrong with this one?" Jacks looked it up and down.

"It's too tall. But that one over there..."

When Jacks turned his back to find the tree she nodded towards, Evangeline lanced the snowball at his fur doublet.

Jacks' body went still. He slowly turned around, lips parted as an offended demeanour took over his face. He tilted his head at her as Evangeline brought a cold hand up to her face, trying to stifle her giggles. She failed.

"You better run, pet."

A deep belly laugh emerged from her mouth as her feet sunk in the snow quickly. It slowed her down, but it didn't stop her from rushing away from him. She dodged trees, weaving in and out of them as she tried to escape Jacks.

The ice cold hit her back before the hard thump did. Evangeline squealed, her hand reaching at her back, freezing nipping at her hands. Melted snow slowly seeped through her cape as she turned around to see Jacks smirking proudly.

She quickly formed a snowball in her hands, whipping it at Jacks swiftly. He dodged it with ease before stalking towards her, already hitting her again with another snowball.

"No, no, no!" Evangeline eventually found a tree to hide behind, gathering her breath. She made another snow ball, waiting for Jacks to come from where he last seen her. But he wasn't in sight.

Her heart pounded in her ears as her eyes darted around the farm. A flash of blond hair emerged and Evangeline ran towards him. She threw the snowball at his side, but the moment it hit him Jacks tossed one at her in exchange, landing in the middle of her chest.

Jacks chuckled deeply, she imagined from how quickly her mouth drooped down.

"I wasn't even ahead of you for five seconds," Evangeline whined, walking towards him in defeat.

"Say it, Little Fox. I win."

She sighed. "You..."

Evangeline smooshed snow into his blonde hair. Jacks' mouth formed an o shape as his eyes squeezed shut, melted snow running down the back of his neck.

"...Are tied with me," Evangeline finished, flaunting a pearly grin in his face.

Jacks pulled her in by her waist, Evangeline's heart skipping a beat. "Trust me, pet, there will be another round, and you will lose sourly." One of his hands drifted to her rose gold hair, tangling it in his hand before tilting her head back. “And you’ll be sorry you pulled that stunt with the snow in my hair.”

His fingers massaged her scalp briefly, a challenge lit up in his eyes. Just as Evangeline began to respond, she peered up at the tree they were standing in front of. "This one, Jacks. It's perfect for the Hollow!"

He shifted his head to examine it. "You like this one?"

"It's the right size, it's branches are in lovely condition, and it has a nice memory tied to it."

"Then this is the one we'll get."

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

After Jacks used his magic to persuade the owner to ship the tree over to the Hollow for free, Evangeline attempted to persuade Jacks to get decorations for the tree.

"It's not a Christmas tree without ornaments, it's just a pine tree. You agreed to getting a Christmas tree."

"I taught you too well," Jacks grumbled, shoulders brushing as they walked into the town square.

Little sparks ignited everywhere Jacks touched her accidentally.

Evangeline beamed in success. "Enjoying Christmas yet?"

"No, still hate it.”

Town square was decked out in every inch with Christmas decor. Lights glowed everywhere, trees, pine or not, were littered with all different sorts of ornaments, tinsel was strung everywhere, and a small band was playing Christmas tunes beneath a street lantern.

Evangeline took it all in, joy filling her up from head to toe.

"The North takes Christmas pretty serious."

She twirled around, delighting in the festivity. "You're from here. What has Christmas ever done to you to make you such a scrooge?"

Jacks shook his head. "Why do you like it so much?"

"Stop deflecting the question."

"I'm not. I'm giving you the answer."

Evangeline worried her bottom lip between her teeth as they neared a shop selling decorations. "It gives everyone a reason to be merry. You get to spend time with your family, give and get gifts, amazing food, silly carols, funny, romantic kisses under the mistletoe..."

Evangeline realized why Jacks did not like Christmas.

"By all means, Little Fox, keep going. I just love those funny, deadly kisses underneath the mistletoe. It's a romantic experience as women drop dead in front of me." He gave her a wicked twist of his mouth, as if he enjoyed killing women, as if it truly didn't affect him. Jacks didn't even touch on the matter of family.

But Evangeline noticed his eyes. Her father used to tell her how you found people's truths; in their eyes. She seen the forced smile in them, the hurt hidden behind it.

"Jacks-"

"We're at your ornament shop."

Evangeline exhaled deeply, kicking the snow off her boots on the steps of the store before entering. Jacks did not have the same care about trekking snow in the store.

"Pick out some ornaments for the tree," Evangeline urged him, searching for pretty ones too.

"That wasn't part of our deal." Jacks side eyed her.

She turned so that she was directly facing him. "Please, Jacks."

He stared at her intently, but she did not break his gaze.

"I'll make you cookies," Evangeline offered brightly.

Jacks looked away, groaning. "For Fates' sake."

She clapped, knowing he gave in to her. "Pick out some pretty ones!"

As he walked away from her and to a different part of the store, he tossed his head over his shoulder. "They better be good cookies."

There was an extra pep in Evangeline's step as she walked around the shop, finding some lovely green and red ornaments. She stuffed the box underneath her arm and continued her search.

Fake icicles caught her eye, and Evangeline was entranced by them. They glittered when light hit them at the right angle, reflecting little rainbows. She tucked those under her arm too.

After getting a basket and finding a few other ornaments, including a star topper, Jacks returned to her.

He only said one word. "These."

Evangeline peeked inside the box, eyes widening at his choice of blue and pink ornaments. There were even little foxes painted on some of them.

"Aw, these are adorable!"

Jacks glared at her. "Call them adorable one more time. I dare you."

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

After popping cookies into the oven at the Hollow, Evangeline spent the rest of her evening decorating the Christmas tree. The minute she tried to convince Jacks to help her, he scoffed not this time, Little Fox, and strutted away.

Although he was hiding it well, Evangeline knew Jacks was starting to warm up to Christmas. Even if it was just the smallest hints of it, it was still something. But her challenge wouldn't be completed until Jacks truly enjoyed Christmas.

After placing the last of the tinsel and ornaments on the tree, it was time for the star.

Evangeline set her hands on her hips, contemplating how she would reach the top. She tried jumping, she tried dragging a chair over, but it was still just out of reach.

"What, pray tell, are you trying to accomplish?" Jacks leaned against the door way to the main room, arms crossed as he regarded her amusedly.

"I'm trying-" Evangeline hopped, "to reach-" she leapt, "the top!" She ran out of breath.

She came to the realization that Jacks might put the star on top for her. He would decorate the tree with her!

Maybe.

"As much as I'm enjoying you bouncing all over the place, there's a much easier approach to this, Little Fox."

"Uh huh," Evangeline raised her eyebrows challengingly. "And what's that?"

Jacks took four large steps towards her, and when she thought he was going to take the star from her hand, he grabbed her waist gently, lifting her up and on top of his shoulders.

Evangeline let out a gasp, heart picking up again.

"Hurry up, your dress is in my face." Jacks' voice came out muffled.

Her thighs were also around his neck.

Evangeline quickly placed the star on top, breathing quickly. "I'm done!"

He placed her back on the floor, brushing a cool finger over her cheeks. "It's so easy to make you blush."

Evangeline poked his nose in turn, Jacks swatting her hand away. "Admit it. You're beginning to like Christmas."

"Has this become a personal mission for you, pet?"

A quiet ding interrupted them.

"The cookies!" Evangeline grinned, rushing to the kitchen, slipping on a pair of oven mitts and removing them from the oven.

She stepped back, admiring her work.

"Christmas cookies?" Jacks' tone was flat and unamused.

Despite how hot the cookie was, Evangeline picked one up between her fingers, ignoring the slight burn. "Ha! Look, it's Santa."

Jacks darted his head quickly towards her and took a large bite out of the cookie she held. "Headless Santa now," he mumbled as he chewed on the sugar cookie.

"Fiend," Evangeline retorted.

Jacks reached for another one, but Evangeline smacked his hand. "I need to decorate them!"

"Someone's going on the naughty list. It's not nice to hit people, Little Fox."

"It's not nice to bite cookies out of people's hands, Jacks."

"I'm already on the naughty list, why should I care?"

"Shoo, unless you're going to help me decorate these."

"I'd almost mistake you for a Fate with how many deals you're trying to make." Jacks walked away, obviously not interested in decorating.

Evangeline sighed. She picked up the bag of icing she'd prepared earlier, piping little designs onto her first cookie. Her festive mood was beginning to dampen. Jacks really wasn't going to come around to Christmas, was he? Of course, no matter how hard she tried, she failed. He was a Fate after all. Why had she expected Jacks to look at Christmas different for her?

One decorated cookie later, strong arms wrapped around her waist and a head leaned against her shoulder, the smell of apples and something distinctly male filled her senses. Evangeline could have melted into his touch, despite her earlier frustration.

"I thought you didn't want to decorate. You know, since you despise Christmas."

"Hush, Little Fox, or I might change my mind."

Evangeline couldn't fight the smile on her face. He grabbed the icing bag, still leaning on her shoulder and reaching through her waist. Jacks tried to pipe a design, but he squeezed too hard, a bunch of icing coming out at once. He growled.

Evangeline giggled. "Here, I'll squeeze, you keep your hands on mine, guiding the bag, okay?"

Jacks grunted in acknowledgment, placing his hands over hers. He guided her slowly, drawing little snowflakes on the snowman shaped cookie.

A warm feeling rose through Evangeline. "Next one."

This time it was a tree. Jacks drew ornaments and lights, actually taking it seriously. They continued like that until all the cookies were decorated, and Evangeline couldn't have cared less that she only decorated one. She was elated that Jacks had partook in something festive without motivation. It also helped his hands were on hers and how his body fit with hers.

He set down the piping bag, grabbing her hand and twirling Evangeline around, leaning her against the counter. "Happy?"

"You have no idea."

Jacks leaned in close, close enough that they were breathing the same breaths. His lips were dangerously close to hers. "Remember your part of the deal."

Another night of you being mine.

Evangeline hadn't a problem with it. She was already his, anyway.

"I couldn't forget."

Jacks laced his fingers with hers again, leading her to his room. On their way, Evangeline pulled him to a stop.

"Mistletoe, Jacks."

He looked up quickly at the strategically placed mistletoe above their heads. His eyes creased with worry. "Little Fox-"

Evangeline stood on her tip-toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, letting her lips linger on his cool skin. She hadn't known whether or not a lip-on-lip kiss would follow them outside the Hollow, and she didn't want Jacks to have to deal with that guilt, so she opted for his cheek instead. Evangeline had desperately wanted to feel his lips against hers. She wanted to have a true mistletoe experience with Jacks. But, as fate allowed, Evangeline would settle for a peck on the cheek.

"There," Evangeline whispered as she pulled away. "Now you have a pleasant memory under the mistletoe."

Jacks looked at her, really looked at her, with a vulnerability in his eyes that he rarely showed. His arms engulfed her and his head buried in her pink hair.

"When we leave here for good, Little Fox, please do not forget this."

"I'll never forget this," she mumbled into his shirt.

He pulled away to look at her. "Mine."

"I'm yours," Evangeline repeated as she had a few nights ago.

Jacks scooped her up, carrying her to his bedroom, holding her close to his chest. She loved how delicately he held her, how careful he was.

When they reached his room, Jacks tugged on the hem of her dress in question.

Evangeline nodded wordlessly.

He lifted it off of her, leaving Evangeline in solely a tiny slip that didn’t leave much to the imagination. Although she was sure Jacks had seen much more of her when he bandaged her up a few nights ago. She reached for the buttons of his shirt, popping them off until the item of clothing was removed completely.

Jacks then laid her down, falling on the bed beside her.

Evangeline brushed a soft lock of blond hair from his face. "I know you hate Christmas for good reasons, Jacks. But the holidays are about spending time with people you care about. I know how good you are at hiding it, but I think deep down, you care about me, at least a little bit. So I hope I changed your mind about Christmas."

Jacks knotted his hands in her hair, bringing her head close. "I care about you a lot." He frowned. "More than I should."

Evangeline's eyes fluttered closed. "I care about you too."

"I know."

Their limbs began to tangle together as they shifted in the bed. Jacks held her as if she was about to be ripped from his grasp. Evangeline nuzzled her head in his chest, letting herself lull to sleep.

"Little Fox?"

"Mm?"

"Christmas isn't so bad."

"Jacks!" she whined against his skin.

"Fine. I like spending Christmas with you."

Jacks’ reluctant words reverberated through her head a million times. Finally. Evangeline had warmed him up to the holidays, even if it took a bit out of her. It made her cheeks hot that she knew she was the reason for his new take on Christmas.

She tilted her head up to look in his eyes. “I knew you’d come around.”

“Don’t you dare start up carolling, pet, or I will take back my previous statement. The tree in the main room will be destroyed before you wake up in the morning if you pipe up with those god awful tunes.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of annoying Jacks of the Hollow.”

His hand smoothed over her hair idly and his voice was soft from tiredness. “Good.”

Evangeline waited until his eyes fluttered shut before murmuring quietly, “Deck the halls with boughs of holly fa-la-la-la-la-”

The hand that had been in her hair moments before clamped over her mouth. “Shut up,” Jacks groaned.

She laughed behind his hand, amused by his distaste for carols. Once her giggles died down, he removed his hand and closed his eyes again.

“‘’Tis the season to be jolly-”

Jacks rolled them over so that she was underneath him, his chest over top of her mouth. Despite her voice being incredibly muffled, she still sang.

“Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la.”

“Are you done yet?” Jacks moved into a plank position, uncovering her mouth.

“Maybe.”

“You are insufferable.”

Evangeline smiled brightly at him. “Will you change your mind if you found out I got you a present?”

One of his eyebrows raised. “When?”

“When you weren’t looking. It isn’t much, but it’s something.” Evangeline shifted to reach beside the bed, pulling the small box out of her dress pocket. “Merry Christmas, Jacks.”

Evangeline didn’t think she’d ever seen his features so soft. Blond eyebrows knitted together, and his eyes regarded the present with a delicacy he’d only ever used with her. He moved them so that they both sat up, hands carefully holding the box she handed him. She bit her lip in anticipation of his reaction.

“Open it!” She urged, hoping he wouldn’t hate the gift inside.

Jacks pulled the ribbon around the box until it untied, popping the lid open and peering inside. His lips curved into a smile.

“I couldn’t think of what to get you, but you’re always dressing fancy, so when I saw those golden apple cuff links, I immediately thought of you.” Evangeline watched as his finger brushed over the cuff links curiously. “Everyone deserves a Christmas present, no matter how far down they are on the naughty list.”

His eyes flashed to hers, amusement laced in his expression. Still, Jacks hadn’t said a word.

“Well? Do you like them?” Evangeline demanded, palms beginning to sweat. She hoped from the bottom of her heart he adored them. That every time he would wear them, he’d think of her. His Little Fox.

“I do.”

Jacks spoke those two words with so much gentleness, yet so much force that made Evangeline believe there were a billion other things he wanted to say.

He set his gift on his nightstand, pulling Evangeline back down into a lying position. Jacks moved his lips over her neck, sucking and biting at her skin. She let out a moan at the feeling, at how fast he could send her brain into a frenzy.

“Thank you, Little Fox.” His words tickled her neck.

She hadn’t thought him capable of the words thank you.

“I’m glad you like them,” she whispered back.

Evangeline swore to never forget how soft he was at the Hollow. With her. How his expression turned so breathtaking when he looked at his present. At her. How badly Evangeline had wished she was his true love. She finally let herself fall asleep, a deathly pair of lips on her mind as sleep claimed her.

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

Jacks looked up at the winter night sky sourly, wondering if the stars were laughing at him. How many times had they watched happily ever after be wretched from his hands so despicably?

This one hurt the most.

His teeth clashed together as Jacks grind his jaw, thinking of the way Evangeline had been taken from him. Jacks had briefly pondered over if things could have been different if he’d realized Donatella hadn’t meant to him what he thought she did sooner.

He’d never loved Donatella. She was never his true love. That Jacks was sure of, he felt it all the way down to his cold bones.

Evangeline. Sweet Evangeline.

Nothing had ever meant as much to him as his Little Fox did.

Jacks touched his golden apple cuff links, taking a small comfort in how the cold metal felt against his finger. He had many regrets over all of the things he never said to Evangeline. He especially wished he’d told her how much the gift meant to him. How much she meant to him.

No one had given him anything remotely close to a present in centuries. Jacks couldn’t even remember the last time someone had did something selfless for him, like giving him a present. It meant Evangeline cared about him, almost as much as he cared for her.

She hadn’t even done it in the presence of the Mirth stone. She’d been far from it when retrieving his cuff links. Evangeline had simply wanted to give him a Christmas gift.

Jacks was taken from his thoughts as the crunching of boots trekking through snow hinted at his ears. He turned towards her, hidden by the brick building beside him and the darkness it provided.

She sniffed loudly, the back of her hand coming up to wipe her nose.

“Nothing makes sense,” she cried to the sky. “Things aren’t adding up, no matter how hard I try. Every time I think I start to remember something important, it’s like I run into a wall!”

Jacks wanted to go to her, pull her close, whisper in her ear that it would be alright. How he wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. He’d torture whoever tried to lay a finger on his Little Fox.

“Apollo says he loves me, and I love him, even if I can’t remember. But… that feels like a kind of thing that the heart would remember. I just feel so alone. So empty. I don’t even know if I should trust him. He is my husband, so I should.”

Evangeline kicked the snow in frustration. “I don’t even know who I’m talking to. The stars?” She laughed humourlessly. “It just truly feels like I have no one.”

You have me, Little Fox.

Evangeline spun around. “Who said that?”

Fuck. He hadn’t meant to project his thoughts.

“Hello?”

Jacks closed his eyes, leaning into the wall so Evangeline couldn’t see him. When he first discovered she didn’t remember him, Evangeline became terrified of him. He was a fool to think Time let him off of the hook for how much pain he suffered. A bloody fool.

Jacks swore to himself he’d do whatever it took to return Evangeline’s memories to her. He would disembowel whoever had done this to her. Jacks vowed to become their worst nightmare. He would become the exact monster the stories about Fates made him out to be.

He heard Evangeline sigh. “Now I’m crazy, too.”

He felt sick for her. Jacks knew this was ultimately better than her being dead, but why couldn’t he just be happy for once? Jacks always knew Time would never have allowed them to exist, he should have never let himself hope that it might be different.

Hope. Hopeful Evangeline.

Jacks remembered when he was like her. Back before he realized he was never meant to be happy. Not for long, at least.

But he was happy with her. It was why he knew, in the end, they would never work. Curses couldn’t be deceived. They knew the truth. No matter how much one tried to hide it.

It was one week and one day from the end of Cold Season, marking it Christmas Eve. In a perfect world, he and Evangeline would be at the Hollow, curled up by the fireplace. Jacks would be kissing her breathless, and her heart would still be beating, beating fast for him. His would do the same.

He’d get her a gift that she’d squeal about, blushing furiously like the helpless romantic she was. They would both be happy together.

Instead they were here, in this awful mess.

“Evangeline, my heart, there you are!”

Jacks had felt the overwhelming urge to slash a knife through Apollo’s throat, to watch him beg and bleed mercilessly for how he was taking advantage of his Evangeline-

“Apollo! Sorry, I just… wanted to catch snowflakes on Christmas Eve.”

Apollo wrapped his arms around Evangeline’s waist, pulling her flush against him. Jacks should have walked away, saved himself from this pain. But it was as he told Evangeline before; broken hearts constructed masochists.

Apollo laughed. “How darling you are. Come inside, we’re about to sing holiday carols by the piano.”

Jacks remembered when Evangeline sang for him. She did it to annoy him, but Jacks always looked forward to her pushing his buttons. He would listen to every foul, off pitch, Christmas carol Evangeline sung if it meant that she would remember him.

Jacks had a fleeting idea.

Don’t trust him, Little Fox. He is not your friend. He is not your lover-

“That sounds lovely, Apollo.” Evangeline’s words were loud and held a warning to them.

It meant she heard him.

He just hoped she would listen.

Jacks really needed to stop hoping.

He watched as Apollo led Evangeline inside, a wet sensation trailing down his cheek as Jacks’ eyes burned.

Using the back of his palm to rub at it, his eyes quickly caught the gold flecked blood that now stained his skin. Jacks hadn’t even realized he was crying.

His breath shook as he inhaled. He closed his eyes, the image of Evangeline flashed before him. Jacks imagined her saying don’t lose hope, Jacks. Not when you just got it back.

There was nothing of equal value to him than her. He established that already. Jacks needed to get a grip of himself.

He would find Honora. She would be the best person to go to when it came to cures to curses like this. Although every time he seeked Honora’s help, it always ended miserably. Fate be damned. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Jacks would rack in his favours he built up over the years, and fuck it, Jacks was going to hope.

His fingers traced over his apple cuff links.

This Christmas would not be his and Evangeline’s last.

151 notes · View notes

thedreamlessnights · 2 years

Text

Anything You Want

Viktor x f!reader || NSFW ||

Summary: As an anniversary gift, Viktor lets you do whatever you want with him. You blindfold him, cover him in kisses and warm wax that makes him shiver, and straddle his lap. You give him a single rule to follow: he’s not allowed to touch you, or you’ll stop.

Warnings: Wax play - no pain, only sensations, fingering, temperature play, sort of dom!reader, praise kink, one (1) use of good boy, begging, body worship, marking(love bites), bantering, Viktor gets blindfolded, mentions of restraints, general NSFW content.

A/N: Happy Kinktober first everyone! Enjoy this fic which was absolutely not released on October 12th, no sir!

Word Count: 4k

If there’s anything consistent about the past few months of your life, it’s window shopping.

Stress melts away in blurred aisles, in almost-empty carts. If you spend too much, then it’ll be a bad habit, and you have quite enough of those to last you a lifetime. You buy trinkets, mostly. Little things that you’re forced to actually use, because you can’t stand the thought of them going to waste.

Which is how, at nine in the morning on the eve of your anniversary, you find yourself in the candle aisle. The last thirty minutes have been a blur of stress that won’t quite shed from you the way it normally does.

Everything you have planned for tomorrow doesn’t feel like enough. Granted, Viktor isn’t picky, and he definitely isn’t expecting anything big. The two of you have been together for four years now, and you’ve always done largely the same things. He takes you out to dinner at your favorite restaurant, the two of you exchange gifts, and you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

All of that applies to this year, too, but it’s different.

You’re married now.

Over the last few months, you’ve gotten him a dozen little gifts as expressions of your love. A new leather notebook, because his current one is falling apart at the seams and only has a few pages left. New books for him to read. A winter coat. Some favorite childhood snacks that are hard to find here. Shoes that will alleviate some of the pressure on his foot and knee.

None of that feels good enough.

It’s your own fault, because what you’re really trying to do is live up to the standards you’ve set for previous anniversaries - because in addition to regular gifts, you’ve always had something extra for him, too.

The first year, it was lingerie.

After that, boudoir photos. He still keeps one of those pictures in his wallet - and you’re always reminded of it by the slight, mischievous smile he gives you when he opens it.

Then, last year - your wedding night - he’d bound you up with soft, silk ties, and the two of you had experimented with various things all honeymoon long.

But what on earth can you do this year?

You’ve searched and searched, but things either seem too far out or not enough. Either you’ll be uncomfortable, or you know Viktor will be.

So here you are, roaming a grocery store, as if it will strike some divine inspiration to answer the problem you’ve had for months.

Here you are, eyeing wax melts and candles and remembering that your current candle of choice is running low.

There are almost too many options to choose from. Pine and vetiver, salt spray, poppy fields, apple and cinnamon, lemon-lavender. A rainbow selection, but the one that sticks out to you is a dark orange-red, ruby blended with rust.

Sweet ginger and spice, it says. Sturdy in your hand, and not too expensive.

The smell of it when it hits your nose is so astonishingly Viktor that it almost makes your knees buckle.

Cardamom, a slight hint of coffee, warm cinnamon, sharp pepper.

Viktor.

And a coincidence like that makes you think - even as you quickly set the candle in your cart and continue your mindless strolling.

It makes you think of a year ago, on your honeymoon, when you and Viktor had gone into a sex shop. When rows and rows of padded handcuffs and silk ties and blindfolds and harnesses and sex toys had all blended together into one adrenaline-fueled moment.

But most of all, it makes you think of something you’d forgotten - when skin-safe wax had caught your eye, crimson red. Deep in your mind, an idea sparks.

Because you can picture it now, Viktor blindfolded under you, gasping as warm wax drapes over his abdomen. Heaving breaths that contract his stomach.

Porcelain skin, covered in scarlet.

You know what you’re going to do for your anniversary.

***

Every time you’ve asked Viktor about his limits, he’s had the same response to give.

“Anything you want.”

Those three words have been drilled into you, and they were the same when you’d asked him what he was comfortable with a month or two ago - just to be sure nothing had changed. He was clever enough to know that you were planning something - or trying to. And he’d just looked at you with a soft, fond sort of gaze, and said, “Anything.”

Anything you want.

Being in a shop like this is much more intimidating now, being here alone and with a plan. The wax seems to scream at you from where it sits in your cart.

But you pay no mind to it, because if Viktor really had a limit in mind, he’d have told you. You already know what he doesn’t like, and you don’t like those things, either. Hence, his usual response. Anything you want - an indicator of his trust for you.

Trust you don’t intend to disappoint.

A blindfold is quickly added to the cart, but you halt at the restraints. You could tie him up. He’d like it, but you’ve already done it before. Besides, you’ve got something better in mind.

Something he finds out after the anniversary dinner - once you’ve painted your lips in pink and put on a new dress. Once he’s opened his gifts and you’ve opened yours, and the two of you have settled onto the bed, full and more than content.

“I have something else for you,” you tell him, and the edge of his lip quirks. A smile - and a smug one, at that. He’d known you’d have more.

“Oh?” he asks, gaze immediately pinning on the small, rectangular box in your hands.

You lean forward, brushing your lips against his cheek, leaving the ghost of a mark against his skin. Then you hand him the box, leaning back to mull over his expression.

He’s curious - of course he is. He’s probably spent the last few months trying to guess what you’d be doing, which only makes this better. Because, as much as he excels at reading you, he can’t guess an idea you hadn’t even come up with until yesterday.

Or, at least, you don’t think he can.

When he opens the box and finds what’s inside - the black satin of the blindfold - his expression flickers quizzically.

“How do you feel about surprises?” you murmur, scooting closer and tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. He leans into the motion, briefly closing his eyes before reaching out for you.

“I enjoy them,” he says with a coy smile, settling a hand on your lower back. It sits there a moment, then slides up to your waist. “Particularly when they come from you.”

“Well then,” you practically purr, settling yourself on his lap. “Put it on. I’ll set it up.”

Your mouth hovers over his for a moment before he kisses you. A short, sweet thing - the slightest brush of tongues before you pull away, admiring your view.

Left behind from where your lips had met, Viktor’s mouth is now pink - vibrant, smudged from your lipstick. When he puts on the blindfold and waits for you, it’s a pretty enough sight that you’re tempted to rush your work.

Only, you also want to stretch it out. You want to make him desperate. Begging for you. Whimpering. Marked, worshipped, and throbbing. That result won’t come without some patience on your part - Viktor is many things, and being stubborn is at the top of the list. He won’t give in easily.

You drag out the heating of the wax as much as you can, but he sits obediently on the bed, head tilting toward the sounds you’re making - no doubt trying to analyze every action. Every rustle of fabric, every opening of a drawer, every soft clink and click of the lighter seems amplified in the silence, and you’ve no doubt that he’s registering all of it.

Even when you’re finally ready to start, his resolve barely seems weakened. If anything, he seems more excited about whatever it is he thinks you’re doing.

When you come to straddle him, setting the candle on the nightstand, his hands automatically go up to your waist, head tilting up toward you.

You tsk, removing them even as you miss the loss of them. The confusion plays on his face as clear as day, and it makes a strange satisfaction rumble in your chest. The rare occurrence of being one step ahead of his thinking.

“This surprise comes with a rule,” you say, leaning in close to his ear. “If you break it, I’ll stop what I’m doing and go to bed. Understand?”

“Yes,” he breathes. “What’s the rule?”

“You’re not allowed to touch me.”

He inhales sharply.

“Your hands stay on those sheets,” you continue. “On the bed or on your legs, but not touching me, and not touching yourself.”

“Cruel,” he mutters, but there’s a subtle enthrallment in his words. “Alright, then.”

His hands go flat to the sheets.

“Good boy,” you murmur.

His reaction is almost imperceptible, but you catch it nonetheless. The slightest squirming. The flick of his lips into a smile. Surprise, but not distaste.

He sits still for you as you reach over to the nightstand and grab the wax, testing it with a dip of your finger to make sure it’s not too hot. It’s warm, but not scalding - it won’t hurt him, but it will most likely startle. When it dries, it peels away from your finger easily.

Now you need to expose some of his skin, which means unbuttoning his white shirt and trailing your fingers over his abdomen - making him writhe in anticipation again.

“What are you up to?” he asks, sounding slightly breathless. His hand twitches on the sheets, as if tempted to reach up and grip the back of your thigh - the way he usually does when you sit like this.

“If I told you that,” you say, stabilizing the candle in your grip, “then it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it?”

Before he can respond, you tilt the candle forward and the warm wax spills out - streaming down his sternum.

Viktor’s reaction is instant. A quick, sharp breath. An instinctive movement of his hand, shooting up to grab at your wrist. His grip is tight, but not painful. Lips parted in shock, but no anger in his expression.

You go still just as fast as he moves, holding the candle close to your chest, waiting. Waiting as he breathes in heavily, tilting his head back against the headboard. Waiting as he curses under his breath, thumb stroking your wrist.

The longer you wait, the more dread pools in your stomach. Slimy. Thick. Coiling into a knot.

Have you gone too far? Was the wax too hot?

Another dip of your fingers says otherwise. A pleasant warmth, but nothing more.

Maybe he’d hated it. Maybe you’ve betrayed the trust he so adamantly put in you. Maybe you’ve just ruined your anniversary. But how were you to know?

“Vik?” you whisper. “Too much? Should I stop?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head, gently squeezing your wrist. “No, please don’t. I - I liked it. I liked it more than… more than I’d have expected to.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

The doubt bleeds out of you, spilling into the air against his strained breathing until it’s gone. It’s replaced by a new sense of boldness. You’d found something he hadn’t even known he liked.

“Then tell me,” you hum, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It leaves a red mark this time - his favorite color of lipstick on you - another surprise for him to discover. “What was the rule I gave you?”

As if he hadn’t noticed the way he’s still holding you, Viktor’s brow quirks in confusion. His grip on your hand relaxes, and he drops his hand.

“N- not to touch you,” he says, swallowing hard.

“Good. Consider that your warning.”

When his hands return to the sheets, you continue your work - pressing a gentle kiss to his shoulder. He shivers at the brush of your lips, but sighs when you trail over the same area with the wax. The warmth of it must be nice - his body slackens rather than going tense.

Little by little, you adorn him. Kiss every inch of him that you have access to, from jaw to clavicle to abdomen. Decorate him with ruby presses of your lips, soft trails of wax, gentle nuzzling against his skin.

Delicate nibbling at his neck that turns into something fiercer, sharper - jeweled bruises that will soon crown his throat. He sits obediently for you, stubbornly patient, but you can read his desperation like a book.

The way he squirms under you, though he tries to subdue it. Hands buried in the sheets, squeezing tight enough to whiten the knuckles. Hard underneath you, kept still, but you know what he wants. What he’s currently fighting. He wants to grind his hips into you, in time with the gentle rhythm of your movements. Wants to reach up and touch you. Wants to be inside you.

When you fan your breath on his cheek, he turns toward you - leans in, wanting to kiss you. But even this, you deny him - choosing to bite at his shoulder, waiting for him to beg.

“Are you ever going to- to allow me to touch you?” Viktor asks, sounding winded. His hands tug on the sheets, as if to show you the extent of his desperation.

“Maybe,” you tease. “If you keep being good.”

He curses under his breath. Curses again when you lean forward, putting the force of your weight on his hips.

His hips roll instinctively into yours. Stopping only when you halt, raising a brow that he can’t even see.

“I thought you wanted to touch me,” you tell him. He can hear the smugness of your voice - you can tell by the downward twist of his lips, the twist that becomes a scowl.

“I do,” he says. It’s almost desperate, but not quite. Not enough.

“Then behave.”

He lets out a soft, pleading sound in response to that. You simply hum, setting the candle down beside the nightstand and admiring your work.

Viktor is covered - torso and abdomen decorated in various shades of red - your lipstick meshed with the wax. His skin is a beautiful canvas for your work, and when you’re satisfied that you've taken all of him in, you reach to the nightstand for one of the other things you’d set aside - a camera.

“I want to remember this,” you say softly, aligning him in the camera’s frame. “Remember how you look right now.”

Viktor pauses, taking in your words. Then he smiles.

“You’re taking a picture.”

The clean click of the shutter is your response.

“You look so pretty for me,” you praise. “How could I not?”

“Take more,” he murmurs. “To match the pictures of you I’ll be taking later.”

Heat courses down your abdomen, searing and very, very distracting.

“Bold words from someone blindfolded,” you tease, pushing your arousal aside and snapping two more. “Who says you’ll be able to see me?”

Christ, he’s beautiful. You add in a fourth. Then a fifth.

“I have hope,” he says plainly. Click. “I think you’ll have mercy on me. I’ll get those pictures.” Click.

“Promise?” you ask, taking one final picture.

“I promise.”

Finally satisfied, you set the camera down on the nightstand again, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his neck. Your fingers trail low, but not where he wants them - not where will give him relief. Only over his thighs, making him shudder. Over his belt, before pulling it free. Undoing his knee brace, and pulling his pants off, leaving him in his boxers.

Viktor is practically panting for you now, waiting for your inevitable upcoming action. Which, perhaps a bit cruelly, is to grab an ice cube from the melting tray on the nightstand and brush it against the soft skin of his stomach.

He swears loudly, hands fiercely gripping at the sheets.

A moment is spent waiting for him - seeing if he’ll say it’s too much, if he’ll tap out. When he doesn’t, you continue. Trail it up his ribs, over his sternum, down his abdomen. Watch the glossy trail it leaves on his skin.

Viktor shivers under it, breaths coming deep under your touch, heart fluttering in his ribs when you rest ice-cold fingers above it.

“You - you’ll be the death of me,” he whimpers, tilting his head back. You imagine that he’s closing his eyes, but aren’t sure. “Please.”

And there it is. The word you’ve been waiting for.

The desperation, written on every inch of him. It lies in the dampened hair, in the lipstick and wax, in the wrinkles of his unbuttoned shirt. The pleading expression you can only partially see, marred by the blindfold. His plea echoes in every part of his desperate, pretty little face with traces of you smudged all over it.

Gently, you reach out and place two fingers under his chin. Tilt it up toward you, ghosting your mouth over his. With your other hand, you do a final swipe of the ice up his chest - sending him shuddering - before you kiss him, and he melts into your touch.

He keeps his hands on the bed, though, just like you’d asked him to.

Maybe he deserves a little reprieve.

“Touch me,” you whisper.

His hands immediately flash up to you - first to your waist, before gliding up to your arms, thumbing over the ring on your left hand, then moving up and clutching gently at your jaw. Pulling you in, as if you aren’t already on top of him. Wanting you as close as he can possibly get.

Then his hands pull away from you, and travel upward - just like you’d anticipated. They go up to the blindfold, starting to tug, and only stop when you halt his action.

“Who said you could take it off?”

For a moment, Viktor freezes in place. Your words slowly register, and he lets out a huff.

“But I want to see you,” he pleads.

Leaning in to nuzzle his neck, you tuck a loose strand of his hair behind his ear.

“Feel me,” you whisper, drawing him into a kiss. “You’ll see me later.”

He grumbles something under his breath, soft words mouthed against your lips, then reaches for you - caresses his fingers against your jaw. Kisses the area he’d touched, then moves onward.

A callused thumb traces over your lips, over your cheek. Kisses follow in those areas, too. His movements are slow and teasing, because Viktor knows you just as well as you know him - knows you want him just as badly as he wants you. Knows that you’ll eventually cave, and how to break you down.

What he doesn’t know is that there’s a new piece of lingerie under the robe you’re wearing.

His lips trail down your neck, feather-light, warm and gentle. They flutter over your pulse, kiss at your clavicle, nibble down to your chest - where he finds the satin robe.

He pulls it aside without hesitation, but when his hands find soft lace underneath, he stalls - using his hands to take it in. The sheer top, where lace adorns the apex. If he could see it, how much it reveals, he’d be flushed from the ears down. From the way he breathes in when he traces his fingers over your nipples, there’s a good chance that he’s just found that detail out by himself.

The bralette is dotted with burgundy velvet hearts, which he runs his fingers over before sliding down. Just inches under where the top of the set ends, he finds the corset - black, fastened together in gold clips that he can’t see. His fingers trace the silhouette downward, where he finds the soft skin of your hips before he reaches the bottom of the set, which shows more skin than it covers.

“Is this new?” he asks, sounding winded. “I don’t remember anything like this.”

“It’s new,” you croon, kissing at his neck again. He leans into the feeling of your lips before you pull away, bringing his hands back up to your ribs. “Just for you.”

“Describe it to me,” he requests. “What color is it?”

“Burgundy,” you hum. “Your favorite. A two piece - sheer - with a black corset in between. The top and the bottom are lined with lace and velvet hearts.”

His grip tightens ever so slightly, and he releases a soft moan.

“For me, and you won’t let me see it?”

“You’ll see it later. Trust me.”

At the sound of that, his fingers proceed - trailing up to your abdomen.

“How can someone so beautiful torture me like this?” he grumbles. “You have no- no idea. How much I want to take this off and look at you.”

His words - his hands - are setting you on fire, little by little. You won’t tell him, but your composure is weakening, crumbling as this goes on. You’re soaked for him, desperate for some relief, and, most of all, you miss the sight of his eyes.

But you still want to hold out - mostly, to see if he’ll beg again, but also just for the sake of it.

Which is why you lean in and simply say,

“Oh. I forgot to tell you.”

It’s followed by a soft laugh, winding your hands over his where they sit on your hips.

“I’m wearing red lipstick, too.”

“Fuck,” he breathes. “You’re being cruel. Let me see you.”

“You haven’t even properly felt me yet,” you protest. “Patience.”

His hands move, then - pulling at the bottom piece of lingerie, tugging it down to your thighs so your ass is left bare.

He leaves the top and the corset on - running his hands over them before he rolls a nipple between his fingers, humming as it goes hard through the fabric. Then he kisses you and moves his hands down again.

Down to your thighs, nipping at your neck before his thumb moves to your clit and you let out an embarrassingly desperate whine.

“You’re soaked,” he whispers, breath hot against your cheek. Cardamom. Pepper. Cinnamon. “You’ve been torturing yourself, too.”

“Is it torture if I enjoyed it?”

His mouth quirks - almost a smile, but not quite.

“Well,” he says, “I can’t say that I didn’t enjoy it, too.”

The pace of his hand increases - thumb rubbing circles around you, middle and ring finger sliding ever-so-slowly inside you. Then he goes faster, harder, relentless. Rendering you a trembling mess in seconds. Even blindfolded, he knows how to ruin you.

You want him inside you, but most of all -

You want to see him.

“Fuck it,” you murmur. “Take this stupid thing off.”

You lift the blindfold away from his eyes, and it’s like the flick of a switch - a flash of golden eyes before he kisses you hard, presses close to you, speeds up his rhythm and the force of his thrusts.

When you’re on the edge, he curls his fingers - hitting the spot inside you that feels like lightning, makes your vision black out, turns your bones weak as you clench again and again around his fingers, clutching his shirt and panting out his name. Your ears ring into complete silence before you can think again.

Left in the aftermath is the sound of your breathing, labored and thick, and the feel of him underneath you. When you’re just beginning to be able to see again, Viktor removes his hand from you - leaning back as you whine, taking in the sight of you.

“Look at you,” he breathes, tracing a finger over your lips. “Beautiful. You should see yourself.”

“Look who’s talking,” you mutter, spent. “You’re really handsome, you know.”

“So I’m told.”

Gently, his hand begins rubbing soothing circles into your thigh. He’s still rock-hard in his boxers - to a point that it must be painful. You intend to remedy that as soon as you’re able to fully function.

After Viktor’s had his fill taking you in - running his hand around your top, taking in the corset - he finally looks down at himself.

Wax, lipstick, marks that are quickly bruising. He’s covered in you, decorated in your kiss and touch and ideas.

“You’ve made quite a mess of me,” he says softly - almost entranced.

“I plan to make more,” you say, bolder than you feel.

He looks up at you and traces his thumb over your cheek, laughing a little.

“Soon,” he says. “First - where is that camera? I have a promise to keep.”

#viktor x reader #arcane viktor x you #arcane viktor x reader #viktor x reader arcane #arcane viktor #viktor #viktor arcane #mywriting #mdni #viktor/reader #viktor/you

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malsfefanfics · 3 months

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OC Profile: Medee

Art by la-horrorosa, edited to icon size by me.

"I've only known Lady Medee for a short time. But she is incredibly intelligent, and a devoted member of the Vestra family. Though as I get to know her, some of her children's more interesting quirks have suddenly made much more sense. She seems to know things just before they happen, and can tell who is right behind her without even looking. Also, Sylvain seems to avoid her like the plague." --Edelgard, about Medee.

Full name: Medee von Vestra (Formerly Medee von Anavros) Nicknames: Witch (by her enemies) Birthday: 14th Day of the Great Tree Moon, 11XX Age: Unknown Crest: None Family: Iason von Vestra (Husband, deceased), Hubert (Eldest Son), Rosamund (Daughter), Tancred (Youngest Son), Absyrtus (Younger Brother, deceased), Chalciope (Younger Sister, deceased) Nationality: Adrestia Titles: Soaring Faith Scholar, Healing Matriarch, Mother of Faithology Voice Claim: Coleen Clinkenbeard (Yuko Ichihara in xxxholic)

Interests: Faith study, Magic Experimentation, Science, Alchemy, Autopsy Likes: Science/Magic, Flying, her children, Pretty Rocks Dislikes: Her husband, Nobility, The Church, Tomatoes

Favorite Meals: Garreg Mach Meat Pie, Bourgeois Pike, Beast Meat Teppanyaki, Vegetable Pasta Salad Liked Meals: Sautéed Jerky, Cheesy Verona Stew, Peach Sorbet, Country-Style Red Turnip Plate, Grilled Herring, Small Fish Skewers, Fried Crayfish Disliked Meals: Gautier Cheese Gratin, Daphnel Stew, Notes: In meals with Tomatoes, she picks them out. Do not ask her why she dislikes them.

Tea Preferences: Crescent-Moon Tea, Bergamot, Four-Spice Blend, Chamomile, Almyran Pine Needles

Liked Gifts: Any flower, Arithmetic Textbook, Blue Cheese, Coffee Beans, Tea Leaves, Riding Boots, Ceremonial Sword Disliked Gifts: Goddess Statuette, Landscape Painting, Legends of Chivalry Notes: Gifting her "Legends of Chivalry" will cause her motivation to go down and for her to vanish for the rest of the day.

Lost Items:

Silver Scalpel: A tool meant for carving into things. Looks well cared for and belongs to a set. There's a mark of an old Adrestian family on the handle.

Silver Masquerade Mask: A full-faced mask meant for festivals and feasts. Looks refined and elegant, yet it is very unsettling.

Quilted Children's Blanket: A blanket specially sewn for newborns, meant to last for decades. It has the names of many relatives on every square.

Starting Class: Noble Preferred Class Path: Noble –> Monk/Soldier/Myrmidon –> Mage/Preist/Pegasus Knight –> Warlock/Bishop –> Gremory/Dark Flyer Strength: White Magic, Black Magic, Dark Magic Weakness: Axe Budding Talent: Sword Personal Skill: Spoon Full of Sugar - Restores 5HP to any Magic Unit within one square of her if their HP is at less than half at the start of your turn.

Weapons Starting Levels:

Sword: C Lance: D Axe: E Bow: E Brawling: E+ Reason: B Faith: B Authority: E+ Heavy Armor: E Riding: CFlying: B

Base Stats: (At Recruitment)

HP: 35 Str: 13 Mag: 29 Dex: 17 Spd: 16 Lck: 11 Def: 10 Res: 19 Cha: 14

Learned Faith Spells: Heal, Nosferatu, Rescue, Silence, Abraxas Learned Reason Spells: Miasma Δ, Bolganone, Luna Λ, Meteor, Agnea’s Arrow

Recruit Requirements: Crimson Flower Exclusive - Must have all three Vestra Siblings

Potential Supports:

Byleth

Edelgard

Hubert

Rosamund

Tancred

Constance

Lysithea

Sylvain

Felix

Seteth

Flayn

Manuela

Alois

Hanneman

Shamir

Crit Quotes:

Silence!

You need a time out!

Let's test that hypothesis!

You'll need a doctor.

Bedtime for you.

DO NOT SPEAK HER NAME! (Against any Kingdom Commander)

Mother's here, darling!

I will not pray for you!

Defeat Quotes:

That experiment failed. Best return to the drawing board.

I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I must withdraw.

That was....very unfortunate...…

My dear children....I'm afraid.... your mother won't be coming home.....

Chalciope....I'll see you soon, sister.....

And so.....House Anavros truly ends with me.... (if her children all died in battle)

Skill Level Increase Quotes:

This should help my experiments.

This will impress Tancred.

Rosamund will enjoy this.

I shall make use of this for Her Majesty.

Oh, I know Hubert will find this delightful.

Hmh. Interesting.

Even an old crone can learn something.

Level Up Quotes:

Every day, a little life.

The Anavros Standard.

I suppose I'm still rusty.

You'd be impressed what age can do.

Eventually we learn all we can.

Gift Quotes:

Liked Gifts: Oh, sweetheart. You're far too kind to an old lady like myself.

Neutral Gifts: How thoughtful. Thank you, darling.

Disliked Gifts: Well, I was in need of something to test this new potion on.

#fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem oc #fe3h oc #medee von vestra

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abitohoney · 1 year

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All I Want for Christmas Is You

Chapter 4 of 6 - Twas the Night Before Christmas AO3 link

CH1 || CH2 || CH3 || CH4 || CH5 || CH6

Sevika x female reader

Rating: Explicit, MDNI, 18+, NSFW

Tags: Sevika/Reader, AU - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Lesbian Sex, Cunnilingus, Teasing, Humor, Vaginal Fingering, Orgasm Delay (nothing extreme), Begging, Strap-Ons, Face-Sitting, Corny & Cheesy Dialogue, kinda sappy

Word Count: 5.6k

Fic Summary: It’s your first year spending the holidays with Sevika, and though the two of you couldn’t be any different in your level of holiday spirit or view of the traditions that come with it, your shared adoration (and sexual attraction) for each other is more than enough to get both of you through it together.

A collection of little holiday-inspired scenes, technically chronological, but really could be read in any order or as stand-alone oneshots. Includes a nice blend of sugar (fluff) and spice (smut).

Chapter Summary: Twas the night before Christmas, and you had some devious, fun, sexy plans for your girlfriend. An early gift, so to speak. (More smutty good times)

AN: Another fic already complete on AO3 that I'm bringing to Tumblr. Guess it's Xmas in April. 🤷‍♀️

Twas the night before Christmas, and you had some devious, fun, sexy plans for your girlfriend. An early gift, so to speak.

While she’s changing into her pajamas in your shared bedroom, you hide in the bathroom, carefully wrapping said gift.

Standing naked as the day you were born, you take one of two wide, red satin ribbons and wrap it loosely around your waist several times before fashioning a large bow at the front. Turning before the floor length mirror leaning against the wall, you adjust the ribbon until just the top of your ass was covered, and the bow sits perfectly aligned above the apex of your thighs, covering one half of Sevika’s gift . Taking the other ribbon, you slip it around your upper back one time, bringing the ends together across your breasts before tying another neat bow just over the center of your cleavage, the other half of her gift . Spinning around to take one final glance at your handiwork, your lips pull into a confident smile before you quietly pad towards the door that leads to your bedroom.

Slowly pushing the door open just a crack, careful not to let Sevika hear you coming, you peer into the room through the opening.

Sevika stands at the side of the bed furthest from you, her back to you. She's in just her baggy shorts she wears to bed, and starting to push her arms through the sleeves of her oversized t-shirt.

You watch for a moment, transfixed by the muscles along her shoulders and back. Watching as they move and flex as she slips the shirt up over her head and finally down over the view you were admiring.

Afraid she would turn and catch you before you could present yourself properly, you scurry into the middle of the room. Thankfully, she seems to be preoccupied, fiddling with something in her shorts.

That's… odd.

Brushing that thought off, you call to her quietly in a sing-song voice, "Sevika! I have an early present for you!" Fingers entwined between one hand and the other behind your back, you sway back and forth with a coy smile on your face as she turns to face you. "That is, if you're interested," you add.

Sevika's stoic expression fades almost instantly as she takes in the sight of your nearly nude body, only covered by two small ribbons. Those lovely dark lips of her curl into an amused smirk. " If I'm interested?" She scoffs. "Sweetheart, you know damn well I want to unwrap that gift right now."

"I don't know about that," you reply in mock disappointment, "I mean you're just standing there staring. You don't seem too excited to me." You put on your best pout, pushing your bottom lip out and looking down at the floor near the side of your feet.

Bad idea.

You barely have a chance to look back up when you realize she's stalking towards you, her heavy footfalls catching your attention. She's halfway to you when you find her eyes focused on you, and she looks… ravenous . When she reaches out to grab you, you let out a startled squeal and duck beneath her hands. Booking it for the door that leads to the kitchen, you can hear her hot on your trail and you giggle delightedly.

“I don’t think I like having to chase my gift,” Sevika taunts from behind you as you round the kitchen island. “Perhaps you need to be taught a lesson.”

You can tell by the tone in her voice she’s just playing along, not truly upset. And judging by the playfully wicked smile on her face as she approaches the island, she’s enjoying this little game as much as you are. The two of you stand at opposite ends in an impasse. Each waits for the other to make a move. Biting your bottom lip to hide your smile, you watch her carefully, trying to anticipate which way she’ll go.

Sevika arches a single brow, challenging you to move first. When you remain frozen to your spot, she slowly leans forward, then slams her palms down on the counter. The slap of flesh and bang of metal against the hard surface echoes through the otherwise silent room.

Startled, you release another squeal and take off towards the bedroom again with her not far behind you. It was a dumb move though, you realize as you sprint into the bedroom and towards the bathroom. There’s nowhere to go now. You can hear her deep, mocking chuckle behind you. Then the sound of her steady, measured strides.

Past the threshold to the bathroom, you spin to attempt to close the door. You’re too slow. Her large palm reaches out, catching the door before you can close it even half way. And she’s far stronger than you, easily pushing the door back open and sending you stumbling backwards.

“Bad move, sweetheart,” she sneers, her wicked grin revealing a sliver of teeth.

Without taking your eyes off her, you step backwards as quickly as you can, nearly tripping over a laundry hamper in the process. She stalks towards you, unhurried, with her lips curled in the most hungry , sinful smirk. Your lip is still caught between your teeth, but no longer to hold back your playful smile. Now you’re simply nervous, anxious, excited . You know she's got something in store for you, you just don't know what. You continue to back away until your back collides with something solid and unmoving. The palms of your hands press flat against the wall you've just backed yourself into. There’s nowhere to go. You’re trapped. Heart hammering in your chest, you watch with wide eyes as she closes the remaining distance in two long strides.

Sevika stands mere inches from you. Close enough for you to feel the heat emanating from her body. She towers over you, forcing you to have to crane your neck to keep your eyes on her face. “Silly little mouse,” she taunts, placing her palms against the wall on either side of your shoulders. “Teasing a lion?” Her upper lip curls up at the corner as she releases a snarl.

You jump, a pathetic little squeak escaping your throat. And you can tell by the glint in her eyes that she rather enjoyed your reaction.

“And only to get yourself cornered,” she continues to tease. “You know, I actually had an early gift for you as well, but now I'm not so sure you deserve it."

The barely contained mix of excitement and anticipation drains from your face, turning to confusion. "What?" You ask, dumbfounded that she had planned an early gift for you as well. Your mind races over the possibilities.

"It's a shame too," she replies, shaking her head in mock disappointment, "it would have fit perfectly with my gift."

"You- you're not really going to deny me are you?" You whimper, knowing now that the gift is most certainly something geared towards your pleasure.

Her gaze drops from your pleading eyes to your pushed out bottom lip, then further down to your barely covered breasts. "I'll tell you what..." she drawls as she removes her human hand from the wall to run the back of a finger down your exposed cleavage. She grins as you tremble beneath her touch. Eyes back on your face, she offers a proposition, "I'm going to unwrap my present, and if I like what I see, I'll consider letting you unwrap yours."

That brings a small smile to your face. You're certain she'll be pleased. You nod your head, letting her know you understand and agree to the conditions.

Attention back on your chest, she takes one end of the ribbon and slowly, every so slowly, pulls.

Your eyes remain focused on her expression as she pulls one loop of the bow until it pops loose. Her smirk curls higher as she grabs the other end, repeating the process at the same torturous speed.

As that second loop breaks free, you suck in a deep breath and hold it. That rise of your chest, paired with the slick material of the ribbon, is enough to loosen the knot and send the ribbon slipping down your body to your feet.

Removing her prosthetic hand from the wall, Sevika gently cups both of your naked breasts in each of her hands. Her cold, sharp metal fingers leave goosebumps across the skin of one. While her hot, calloused flesh fingers warm the skin of the other. Both thumbs rub simultaneously over each of your nipples, sending ripples of pressure straight to your core. You release your breath in a shaky whimper.

Sevika's low, taunting chuckle warms your insides, and you anxiously wait for her to say something, anything. Her eyes flit to yours.

"I certainly like the first half…" she husks, and before a smile can even fully form on your flushed face, she gives both hardening peaks a quick, sharp pinch. A startled cry of pleasure escapes your throat, but she continues on as if nothing happened, "...but let's see if I can say the same for the second half."

Those wild eyes of hers lower to the bow sitting just over the apex of your thighs and you pray she won't make this one so excruciatingly slow. She does take both ends- one in each hand- at least, but you swear she takes even more time loosening them.

"Sevika," you whine, "please go faster."

That was apparently the wrong thing to say.

Both her hands pause, the loops not even half removed. Her amused gaze rises to your desperate one. "Tsk. So impatient," she replies.

You know she's not truly disappointed in you. This is all part of her game. And in all honesty, it's your game too. You enjoy her teasing, even if in the moment it feels like pure torture. "I- I just want you so bad Sev," you mewl.

"I know, babygirl. You'll get me, if you're a good girl," she replies and ghosts her lips across your temple.

"Okay," you relent quietly, and thankfully that appeases her enough to return to removing that damn bow.

Both loops release at the exact same time, and just like the one that covered your chest, this one slips loose and falls to the floor at your feet. Your fingers curl, scraping against the wall beneath them as you watch her eyes rake hungrily over your now completely nude form.

She hums her approval and brings her mouth to your ear. "Such a sweet, pretty little mouse," she purrs. Your body trembles, and she definitely notices as she releases another one of those sexy, deep chuckles of hers. She straightens back up, lips pulled into a cocky smirk. "You know, I think I like my gift so much, not only can you unwrap yours, I think I'll let you use it tonight."

Your eyes blow wide. "Really?" You ask with barely contained enthusiasm. She nods, and now you're filled with an entirely new anticipation.

What did she get you?

"What is it?" You ask, bringing your hands together in front of you excitedly.

She simply grins at your beaming face for a moment before finally replying, "Give me a hand."

Your brows furrow in confusion, but you obey and reach out a hand. She takes it into her own and runs your palm against where her baggy T-shirt hangs over the front of her shorts. Somehow, your eyes manage to widen even further as you feel the large bulge beneath her clothing. She’s packing. How hadn’t you noticed? You slowly lift your eyes to hers, grinning as you wait for her to give you the okay to proceed.

“Go on. Open your gift.”

That’s all you need to hear before you slowly sink to your knees in the small space between her large body and the wall behind you. Peering up at her through your lashes, you feel impossibly small beneath her towering frame, but the pleased smirk she gives you provides you with the confidence to keep going.

She takes a small step back, giving you more room to work as you slip your fingers beneath the waistband of her shorts. Attention back on the site before you, you quickly drag her shorts down, mouth nearly salivating as you reveal the… neon purple toy? It bobs in front of your face as it’s finally freed from the elastic waistband of her shorts. Letting them fall to the floor, your eyes flit up to hers inquisitively. That is certainly not the color you expected. She had acquired a decent variety of strap-ons in your time together. Several shades even, but never something so colorful. Usually dark shades of brown or just plain black. She mostly went wild with shape and size, not color.

“Thought it might be easier to see that pretty pussy of yours take something a little… brighter in color,” she explains. “Don’t you agree?”

Oh. Oh that is so hot.

You nod. That color will definitely stand out.

Sevika steps out of her shorts, kicking them off to the side before gently brushing the back of her metal thumb down the side of your face. “Now be a good girl for me, and get that nice and wet.”

More than willing to oblige- to do anything to please Sevika- you place a hand on one of her powerful thighs, your other hand taking hold of the strap at the base. Watching Sevika’s expression, you lean forward and languidly drag your tongue along the bottom, from base to tip. Your chest swells with pride when that earns you a pleased smirk and another gentle stroke of smooth metal digits along your warming cheek. Still keeping your eyes focused on her reactions, you lean forward, slowly taking the length into your mouth up until you reach your hand. It nearly reaches the back of your throat. This one is definitely one of her longer ones. Without your hand in the way, it would easily have you gagging on its length.

Sevika watches you in blatant satisfaction while your wet, swollen lips slide back and forth over the silicone toy. “Such a good girl,” she purrs. She cards her metal fingers through your hair, the sharp tips scraping along your scalp causing your eyes to flutter shut in bliss. Those fingers grip the back of your head, and you almost miss her voice even as it reaches your ears, too lost in the pleasure of her touch and praise. “Babygirl, I want to fuck your pretty face.”

Gazing up at her through hooded eyes, you hum your approval around the slick toy.

“Just a few quick thrusts. Would you like that?”

Her words start to truly sink in and you realize what she wants to do, and that she’s looking for you to give her permission. Janna does that- both the act itself and her ever present need for consent, make your legs ache with arousal. It’s enough to have you whimpering wantonly and losing your rhythm as your head bobs along the slick shaft. You lock eyes with her, making sure she sees the sincerity in yours, and you nod several times.

The way her lips curl into a devilish grin makes your cunt throb. And then she’s moving her hips back, slowly slipping the toy out from between your lips until just the tip remains in your mouth. She pauses, giving you a moment to relax your jaw and grip her thigh in preparation. Metal fingers press against the back of your head and that’s all the warning you need before she snaps her hips, burying the strap all the way to your hand.

This time, with how powerful she thrusts into you, the tip manages to hit the back of your throat despite your hand remaining at the base. You squeeze your eyes shut and dig your nails into her thigh, trying to repress the instinct to gag. And there’s no denying how much this turns either of you on, not when you can feel the wetness collecting between your trembling thighs, or smell hers.

She quickly pulls back out, allowing you to catch your breath and prepare for another. “You okay, sweetheart?” she asks, brushing her thumb along the edge of your mouth to wipe away the saliva that had gathered there.

Her low, deep voice- and the soft touch- ground you, keep you from falling victim to nerves as you await her next thrust. Taking a deep breath through your nose, you nod. You feel her fingers issue another silent warning as they press against your head, and then she’s hitting the back of your throat again. Your body lurches. Tears form at the corners of your shut eyes, and you’re not sure you can take another. Terrified to disappoint her, you say nothing, but she must sense your distress.

Sevika immediately pulls back, this time removing the toy entirely. “You did so good for me,” she coos when your glazed over eyes meet hers. “I think it’s time you get your reward.” She removes her hand from the back of your head, and you release the now saliva coated strap.

You attempt to stand, but your knees- both sore from kneeling on the hard tile floor and weak with arousal- threaten to give way. She must take notice of this as well, as she bends down and slips her arms beneath yours, carefully helping you to your feet. Leaning against the wall for stability, you turn away from her, embarrassed at your current, pathetic state. She grasps your chin with flesh fingers, gently turning your head so you’re forced to look up at her.

“Don’t ever be ashamed around me, sweetheart,” she warns, but her voice is thick and sweet like honey, and it warms you to the core. She leans down, pressing her lips to yours. You can feel traces of your own saliva transfer to her mouth as it slides over yours, but she’s smiling against you. She’s very pleased.

When she straightens back up, you gaze up at her adoringly. Janna, what you’d give to be hers forever.

She steps closer, the tip of the toy pressing into your abdomen. Her prosthetic hand slips beneath one of your thighs, lifting it up and to the side. Watching your expression closely, she slips her human hand between your legs, dragging two fingers between your very wet folds. She grins as you softly moan her name.

“Looks like you’re ready to go,” she teases, bringing her fingers up to your face so you can see just how much of your slick she collected with a single swipe. She starts to bring them to her mouth, but your hand shoots up and grasps her wrist. Both your eyes and hers go wide for a moment, neither of you expecting you to try to take charge. She raises a single brow, watching as you bring her fingers to your mouth.

Wrapping your lips around her digits, you close your eyes and moan as you suck and lick them clean, tasting your own arousal.

“Naughty girl. That was mine,” Sevika husks when you open your eyes. She pulls her fingers from your mouth with a pop and grabs the back of your neck. Your mouth opens to protest the sudden and harsh motion, but your words are cut short, muffled by her shoving her tongue inside. She hums in approval as she runs her tongue over yours, tasting the remnants of your arousal.

Clutching at her shoulders, you moan into her mouth as a fresh wave of arousal courses through your body.

“You ready?” she asks after breaking the kiss.

Janna, yes!

You nod and take your bottom lip between your teeth again as she takes the dildo in her human hand and lines it up with your entrance. She eases it in, drawing a soft moan from you, but pauses once it’s seated just deep enough to keep it inside. She moves her human hand to grasp the back of your other thigh. Carefully- and with an amazing lack of effort- she lifts your thighs, forcing them to spread as she lifts your entire body higher to better align your entrance with her strap.

The skin at your back prickles as it scrapes along the wall, but it only serves to heighten your arousal. Her sheer strength- the fact that she can just simply put you where she needs you- it’s utterly mind blowing. And she’s aware of the effect it has on you- that arrogant smirk of hers curling higher when she notices how you suck in a breath through your parted lips. “You’re amazing,” you whisper, delighted to know it will further fuel her ego. Who are you to pretend that unyielding confidence of hers is such a turn on?

“Watch with me,” she husks.

Too high on the anticipation of finally getting what you’ve been waiting for all damn night, her words don’t immediately register. Your eyes search hers for an explanation, and as her gaze drops lower, between your bodies, then back up, you realize what she’s asking you to do.

“Sevika,” you whimper in protest, too embarrassed to watch such an act. But, when she arches a brow, questioning your obedience, you immediately relent. Your attention drops to the bright purple toy currently only tip deep in your aching cunt. And shit, if that isn’t already so arousing- but then she starts to push it in deeper, and at an excruciatingly slow, but heavenly speed.

“Look at those wet, wanting lips just swallow my cock,” she husks, and you’re not sure if she’s talking to you, or merely speaking her mind aloud. It doesn’t matter though, because those dirty words combined with the sight of her strap sinking between your folds has got to be one of the hottest things you’ve ever experienced.

The pleasure of her filling you threatens to break your resolve- to go back on her order to watch. Nails digging into Sevika’s shoulders, you bite down harder on your lip to fight the urge to give into that natural response to overwhelming pleasure, to close your eyes. But the moment the toy completely disappears inside your cunt- the tip reaching impossibly deep- you lose it. Your head falls back against the wall with a thud as you release the breath you hadn't even known you were holding, a string of broken moans falling with it.

Giving you time to adjust, Sevika keeps the strap motionless inside you. Her thumbs rub soothing circles against the sides of your thighs. And as you start to come to- lifting your head and opening your eyes- you find her eyes admiring your expression. Your cheeks flush under her gaze, but you smile up at her coyly.

“My pretty girl,” she coos.

Your heart soars and you immediately wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her closer. “You’re so good to me, Sevika,” you whisper into her ear and she chuckles against yours. Her breath tickles the short hairs on your neck. You giggle and squirm against her. Though that ends rather abruptly the moment that results in her harness rubbing against your clit. “Sevika,” you whine, “I want you.”

She pulls her head back until the tips of your noses touch. Lips curling into a knowing smirk, she asks, “What do you want me to do?”

You know she’s just trying to get you to tell her what she already knows. It’s just another attempt to inflate that ego- to give her a power trip. She gets off on making you clearly state what you want from her, and beg for it. Lucky for her, you’re more than eager to please her in any way she desires.

“I want you to fuck me. Slow and deep. Please.” you moan, but as she’s about to pull out, you quickly stop her. “Wait!” you call out a little louder than intended. You smile up at her sheepishly when she arches a brow. “Can you take your shirt off first?” you ask, wanting to feel her skin against yours.

“Anything for you, babygirl,” she purrs. “You’re gonna have to hold on to me though.”

Wrapping your legs around her slim waist, you hook your ankles together at her back and squeeze as tight as you can manage in your aroused state.

Pressing her lower half further against yours to help prop you up against the wall, she inadvertently sinks deeper inside you. The gasp that withdraws from your throat, and the way your legs squeeze tighter around her waist has her chuckling. “You alright?” she teases. When you don’t provide her an answer, she carefully releases your thighs before ripping her shirt off and discarding it behind her. When her hands return to grip your thighs, you immediately wrap your arms around her neck and pull her chest flush to yours.

Her skin is impossibly hot. It always is. She’s like a damn furnace with the amount of heat her body produces, but it’s calming- grounding. And that’s exactly what you need as you feel her start to slide out. That slow, drag of thick silicone against your walls is both torture and bliss rolled into one intense feeling. And as she leaves just the tip inside, you cling tightly to her in preparation for the impending pleasure. You can feel the way her lips curl into a devious smile from where she presses them against your cheek.

The dig of her fingers into your flesh is all the warning you get before she slams back inside you. Even that is not enough to prepare you for the pleasure that rattles your body. You whimper her name, and squeeze your eyes shut. Then she’s repeating the process, pulling back out again. But this time she lifts you higher, changing the angle before ramming inside hard enough to rattle the picture hanging on the wall above your head.

White flashes behind your closed eyes as the tip of the toy presses hard against just the right spot. “Oh fuck!” you moan. And Sevika must know she’s found the right angle, as she holds you nice and steady at that height.

She starts with an almost brutally unhurried pace, but she makes sure to hit that sweet spot with every powerful snap of her hips. And each time you have to fight not to vocalize how fucking good it feels. But despite that, it doesn’t take long before you realize you need her to pick up the speed.

“Sevika,” you whisper breathlessly before she buries her strap to the hilt and withdraws a sweet mewl from your parted lips.

She hums against your sweat-slick skin as she sucks along the side of your neck.

“I- I need- you to go faster,” you stammer as she slides back out with almost no resistance now. You’re so wet with arousal you can feel it start to slide down one of your ass cheeks.

“I thought you said slow and deep, sweetheart,” she taunts. Not giving you a moment to reply, she times sinking her teeth into your neck with a strong rock of her hips that leaves you biting back a cry of pleasure.

“Sevika, please,” you beg and hug her closer to your body. “Please go fas-”

Your pleading is cut short- replaced with that sharp cry of pleasure you’d been fighting- as she thrusts back inside you. She takes mercy on you though, Gradually, she picks of her pace until she’s fucking you fast enough to leave you feeling light headed. And soon you can feel the coil of your building climax form low in your belly.

The room echoes with a symphony of sounds. The rattling of the picture frame hanging precariously above your head. The rhythmic slap of wet skin against wet skin. Your broken mewls, moans and whines. Sevika’s low grunts and huffs. And the squelching of her strap ramming inside your soaked cunt.

None of it registers though- for either of you. Sevika’s too hyper-focused on fucking that sweet spot while keeping the perfect rhythm. And you’re too lost in your own pleasure to hear anything other than the blood roaring in your ears. That is until Sevika whispers in your ear.

“Babygirl, are you close?” she rasps.

You are. You are so close. But you need something else. Something more. Just a little added friction in the right spot. “I- need- more,” you moan between her thrusts.

“I’m already- giving you- the entire- length,” she grunts, thrusting harder and faster. And you swear you can hear the teasing smirk on her face despite her struggling to speak just as much as you are.

Burying your face into her right shoulder, you try once more, “My- my clit.”

“Can’t.”

Your brows pinch together in frustration, but before you can reprimand her for denying your request, realization dawns on you. Both her hands are preoccupied with holding you up. She can’t help you. Reluctantly, you release her from your death grip of a hug, separating the upper half of your body from hers.

Leaning forward, she rests her forehead against yours, unabashed with how lecherous her gaze is as it focuses on the slick covered strap slipping in and out of your cunt. You gaze down as well, vision blurry and clouded by lust, but you can see how your bodies are both covered in a wet sheen. Both your heaving chests glisten with sweat, and your arousal coats not only her strap, but the harness itself. And Janna, it’s even dripping down one of her thighs.

“Beautiful,” Sevika husks, completely enraptured by the sight of her ruining your body in the most wonderful way. But even as she seems lost in her perverse pleasure, she never loses that perfect rhythm.

Slipping a hand down between your bodies, you find your throbbing clit. You work quickly circles around it, drawing up the wetness that collected just below. It only takes a few well timed thrusts from Sevika and your precisely placed fingers before you reach that crest.

Earth shattering pleasure takes over your body, leaving you crying Sevika’s name in ecstasy. You throw your head back against the wall and that white light you kept seeing fades to almost pure black. Your toes curl and muscles spasm during that brief moment of bliss, before your body shudders and you fall limp against Sevika.

She ceases her motions the moment you collapse forward. When your hand slips out from between your bodies to rest at your side, she presses her chest to yours again while the two of you attempt to catch your breath.

Resting your head on her shoulder, you focus on her scent- sweat, musk and smoke- and the feeling of her chest rising and falling in time with your own.

Sevika, who- as usual- recovers long before you can, runs her nose along your hairline soothingly. “How do you feel?” she asks, as if she didn’t already know you were on another plane with how high you felt.

“Good. Really good,” you reply breathlessly, and you can feel her chest shake as she chuckles.

“Good.”

“No. Really good,” you manage to tease. That earns you another deep chuckle that leaves you feeling overcome with adoration. You lift your head, only to rest the back of it against the wall, but at least now you can see Sevika’s beautiful face. Smiling up at her weakly, you feel as if you’d just used your entire body, despite Sevika having done all the work. “I’m really tired,” you sigh.

“Well sleep is going to have to wait, babygirl. You’ve made quite the mess. Literally dripping down my leg right now.” She smirks down at you and if you weren’t so spent, you’d kiss that cocky grin right off her face.

“There’s no way I can clean anyone up right now, let alone walk to the shower,” you laugh weakly.

“Just hold on. I’ll take care of you.”

As instructed, you wrap your arms around her neck and hold on with what little strength remains.

She carries you to the shower and carefully sets you down on the small bench in the corner. You struggle to stay conscious. Your head rolls against the cold, wet shower wall while you fade in and out. You only catch little glimpses, like small snapshots, as she cleans both of you up. Your muscles sing with a pleasant ache that begs you to just lie in your soft bed snuggled up to your wonderful girlfriend.

After drying you off the best she can with you basically flopping around like a damn ragdoll, Sevika scoops you up into her arms and carries you back to the bedroom. She gently lays you down on the bed, aligning your head with a pillow before crawling into bed herself. You’re nearly asleep, but as the bed shifts and your body rolls back to rest against her chest, you wake just enough to hear her whisper against your ear.

“Whatever gift you have for me tomorrow can’t possibly top what you gave me tonight.”

You smile blissfully and scoot back against her warm, solid body as she drapes her augmented arm over your waist and holds you close. “I could say the same to you,” you reply quietly, and you can feel her smile from where she presses a kiss to the back of your head.

As sleep takes over, you swear you catch her say one last thing before you’re out completely.

“We’ll see about that.”

next chapter >

#arcane #sevika #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #arcane sevika x reader #fanfic #honey writes

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bananaofswifts · 1 year

Text

By Xander Zellner

Taylor Swift spends a record-extending 70th week at No. 1 on the Billboard Artist 100 chart (dated July 1) thanks to nine albums on the latest Billboard 200 and three songs on the Billboard Hot 100.

On the Billboard 200, Swift’s 2022 LP Midnights ranks at No. 4 with 60,000 equivalent album units, according to Luminate, after spending six weeks at No. 1.

Here’s a recap of her current Billboard 200-charting titles:

Rank, Title:

No. 4, Midnights

No. 10, Lover

No. 14, Folklore

No. 18, 1989

No. 23, Reputation

No. 25, Red (Taylor’s Version)

No. 38, Fearless (Taylor’s Version)

No. 39, Speak Now

No. 40, Evermore

Swift scores nine titles in the Billboard 200’s top 40 for a fourth time, after achieving the feat on charts dated May 20 and 27 and June 3. No other artist has earned the honor (dating to August 1963 when the survey became a combined stereo and mono album listing.)

Notably, Speak Now rises 42-39 ahead of its new re-recorded Speak Now (Taylor’s Version), due July 7.

On the Hot 100, Swift charts with current Midnights single “Karma,” featuring Ice Spice (up 9-7), former eight-week leader “Anti-Hero” (holding at No. 12), and Lover cut, and new promoted single, “Cruel Summer” (39-18). “Cruel Summer” surpasses its original No. 29 peak in 2019 and becomes Swift’s 69th career top 20 hit, the second-most in the chart’s history, after Drake’s 116.

“Cruel Summer” is the Hot 100’s top Sales Gainer, as it bounds 32-10 on Digital Song Sales (3,000 sold, up 71%), to become Swift’s record-extending 84th top 10.

ATEEZ re-enters the Artist 100 at No. 3, a new high, thanks to the act’s new set The World EP.2 : Outlaw. The project debuts at No. 2 on the Billboard 200 (105,000 units), becoming the group’s highest charting album, and No. 1 on Top Album Sales.

Gunna re-enters the Artist 100 at No. 5, as his new LP — A Gift & A Curse — arrives at No. 3 on the Billboard 200 (85,000 units), becoming his fifth top 10. Eleven songs from the album land on the latest Hot 100, led by “Fukumean” and “Back to the Moon” at Nos. 16 and 29, respectively.

Plus, Queens of the Stone Age re-enter the Artist 100 at No. 7, returning to the chart for the first time since 2017, thanks to the group’s new LP In Times New Roman… The album debuts at No. 9 on the Billboard 200 (40,000 units), becoming the band’s fourth top 10.

The Artist 100 measures artist activity across key metrics of music consumption, blending album and track sales, radio airplay and streaming to provide a weekly multi-dimensional ranking of artist popularity.

#taylor swift #charts

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taldigi · 1 year

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Out of curiosity, and if you don’t mind me asking, what’s everyone’s favorite food and drinks in ladybug classic and the fashion club au?

ohh thats a big one, and one I havent put too much thought into.Its a little hard to like, parse "what french kids actually eat" from "what journalists want to sell you on what the french eat because french is fancy" from my research.

Marinette is a busy girl who likes quick snacks instead of full meals. Eating is a chore that gets in the way of her STUFF TO DO. I think she'd be fond of easy-to-grab easy-to-eat stuff like bread rolls, croissants, stuffed pastries (a side effect of being raised in a bakery) but in general is the kind of kid to just.. grab a bowl of rice (her mom has a rice cooker always packed with fresh rice on all the time) and/or throw whatever is leftovers on top (anything, ANYTHING.) Drinks on the other hand, she seems the type to be super into sparkling waters (strawberry) but also really likes boba teas, because the drink has an interactive element (chewy tapioca!) and it's sweet.

Felix is an odd one, he's raised on this.. plain, minimalist diet that's pretty high in protien because his dad expects him to excel in sports (boxing) so it's a lot of like.. chicken, and greens (no salt, no dressing or fluff) so he gets a little weird when given like.. spices, or flavor- in the "where have you BEEN all my life" sort of way. I really like to imagine he settles into curry as a food he likes- since it's pretty versatile, has lots of variants from savory to spicy, and it's easy to make. His drink of choice? Frilly, seasonal coffee drinks. I'm talking the raspberry-dark chocolate valentines, the pumpkin spices, the peppermints- his vice, his bribe. He gets reward money from placing well in some of his boxing tournaments (the few times his father gifts him anything) and that usually goes directly toward these drinks.

Flora kinda eats everything, even when one might not consider it edible: but she's pretty into fast food, because her family usually makes her eat really fancy foods in fancy ways (I always eat the food wrong, and mother gets mad at me.) Most times she'll just order out, with a preference for thicker deli-style sandwiches and pizza (excuse to invite friends over!) HOWEVER her drink of choice is tea! tea tea tea. She knows everything about all teas ever. She has every tea, foreign and domestic. Iced teas, hot teas, blended teas- she grows some of her own teas. She has special tea instruments, imported tea cake/preh boxes decorate her walls, several custom-made tea sets, and enough matcha to kill a man.

I dont know enough about Malagasy Cuisine to make claims for Alina, but she likes a few dishes from there- because her parents passed it down to her and Theo.. even though both were born and raised in France. Shes super chill though and tends to go with the flow on what others eat or what is offered to her, leaning towards spiced (read, not spiCY, spicED) foods rather than fatty or sweet. (i actually see her being really into like.. mexican [i'm explicitly thinking of those chamoy/chili powdered candies] or indian dishes). Almost as if she values the smell over the taste (saying this as if the two senses aren't intricately related LOL) as for drinks? I think she's someone who prefers bitter, like straight tea... maybe wine too? Iced coffee as a treat, but with only a splash of cream.

Alix is a mystery, but they seem to subsist off caffine and energy drinks. Food? Unknown. Kagami is a lot like Felix where her diet is very strict. But she probably likes fast food when nobody is looking. She adopts a craving for energy drinks from Alix.

#zero-aurion #digit's miraculous tag #fashion club au

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adminbryantsaki · 2 years

Text

Avian Oviposition.

Day 10 of Spicytober featuring Alpha! Hawks x Gender neutral! Omega! Reader. (I do not own Keigo Takami/Hawks. Horikoshi Kohei does. If this isn’t your cup of tea, blend of spices, or brew of coffee, move on.)

Wc: 1,372

Tw: Abo, Monster fucking, oviposition,person given as a gift to royalty, incubator, person used for s3x only, slightly drunk sex.

You are led through the halls of the Aztec style palace as servants are bustling about preparing for the night’s events. Today the Prince was to be coronated, and you were to be given to him as his mate. Your job was to be at his side at every event. Except for this one. Tonight, you are to not be seen by anyone, except for your attendants. You were keeping your head down and your wings folded close to your body as you were led to your mate’s bedchamber where you would wait until the Prince came to see you and mark you. He would also give you his clutch if he so wished. You entered the room with your attendants and you could finally take of the veil you had been wearing to cover your face and head as you were transported to the chamber. You took in the bare walls of the Prince’s room, wishing that you could have your paint set so you may decorate the walls to give them some life. You peeked out of the room onto the balcony that looked out over the bright blue ocean and pale-yellow sand that stretched for miles and was the home to the merpeople that your people were partners with. Your attendants tended to your needs throughout the day as you were hungry or had grown bored waiting. They were the only ones allowed to leave the room in your stead.

Since your Prince wasn’t allowed to see you until the end of the day, he had messengers send you letters and gifts he had prepared beforehand to give to you throughout the day. You received the numerous gifts and letters from him, some of the letters explaining how excited he was to be with you that evening. He had also sent some of your favorite flowers to the chamber for you to enjoy. He also had some of the activities you enjoyed doing to occupy your time. You were happy when your paints had been sent to you with a note of “Paint something for me on my walls, my love. I’d like to see it.” You smiled and got to work, creating a lovely depiction of a sunset over the ocean that lay outside for your prince on one of his blank walls. While you were painting, you heard bells going off from the church signifying that the prince had ben crowned. You smiled to yourself before you sat back and appreciated your handiwork before one of your attendants told you that you’d have to bathe again to get the paint off your face and body before that evening.

You nodded and was guided into the luxurious bathroom where a bath had been already drawn up for you. You were left to bathe and scrub the paint from your body in the bath that smelled like cinnamon and chocolate for what seemed like hours before one of your attendants told you that it was time to get out of the bath and dress you for the evening. You looked out the window to see the sun going down and lighting up the sky, making it look as if someone had set it aflame. You were transfixed by all the colors that painted the sky and you almost left the room in nothing but your bathrobe. You wanted to be held in your mate’s arms and you closed your eyes. You almost left the room and stepped out onto the balcony where a crowd of people were below, enjoying the party. until you were stopped and sadly pulled back inside by your attendant.

You were placed in a short, strapless dress that had been made out of a stretchy material before you were settled down in the Prince’s bed to wait for him to arrive that evening. You had been allowed to read some books while you waited for your Prince to arrive. Yes, there was the advancements of television and the radio in this time and you had access to them, but those were in a different room than the one you were in and not important to the events of tonight. You had your nose in your book when you heard the door open and someone who sounded drunk stumble in. You found this strange as there were guards posted outside the room and had been told to not let anyone but your attendants who were all the same gender as you were and the Prince into the room. You looked over and saw the scarlet feathers of the Prince. You set your book down on the nightstand and sat up. “Hello? Keigo? Are you here?” You called out from the bed, ready to scream for the guards in the case that your life was in danger. The person came into the bedroom area and you relaxed a bit as you saw that it was only your Prince who clearly looked like he was buzzing from the amount of alcohol he had consumed as his crown was tilted on his head and his uniform was disheveled. You looked into his golden eyes that seemed to devour the sight of you in his bed. “Hello, my love. Are you ready to receive my clutch?” He asked before walking past the sheer curtains and to the bed. “Yes, I am.” You told him as he climbed into the bed. “Finally, I can make you mine. All those months of courting and public appearances--- I want the halls to echo with your screams~.” He told you as he began to make out with you and situate your legs so he could get between them. He kissed you deeper before going down to your neck and giving you the first out of many marks that night. You felt his marking fangs pierce your skin and you let out a cry of pleasure that echoed through the room. He pulled away and licked the trickles of blood that came from the mark before it began to form into his mark. He watched as a golden circle formed with the blood catching under the skin to form a feather and it healing to a scarlet color to match his own feathers. He kissed you roughly as he pushed up the hem of your rather skimpy dress before he fumbled for his belt and pants to get them off. He cursed under his breath and you sat up to help him get his clothes off. He kissed you and thanked you. He laid you back down and wrapped your legs around his waist. He braced his arms on either side of his head, he pulled his cock out, slid into you, and let out a groan as he felt your soft insides. You let out a moan as he filled you up. After a few moments of him letting you adjust, he began to thrust into you while kissing you occasionally. He groaned as he sped up his pace and soon paused to kiss you firmly and begin to drop eggs into your cervix.

You moaned as you felt them drop down and watched as your stomach grew a bit rounded with all the eggs. Once he had given you all his eggs, he picked up his pace of thrusting again into you. This didn’t last long as he soon released his seed into you and pulled out of you, panting, and laying next to you. “Thank you, Y/n. I feel much better now. I hope the eggs take.” He slurred before passing out next to you. You looked down at your rounded stomach before making your way out of the bed and cleaning yourself up with a towel that had been placed by the bedside. You then climbed back into bed and laid next to your Prince, falling asleep as well. The end.

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