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bookyeom · 1 year ago

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pairing: s.coups x reader word count: 4.8k warnings: a couple of swears i think, kissing, people being bad friends and treating reader badly :(, a tiny bit of poor self-esteem on reader's end but not much, seungcheol gets a lil mad at one point but it's nothing crazy

Author's Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it's not necessary.

pov by ariana grande

i wanna love me the way that you love me for all of my pretty, and all of my ugly too i'd love to see me from your point of view cause nobody ever loved me like you do

You feel like you’ve been subject to an intervention.

You’d come over to pick up a sweater you’d left at Jeonghan’s, and now you’re sitting on his couch while both him and Soonyoung stare at you, arms crossed. You have the distinct feeling that you’re being judged.

“You’re here early,” Jeonghan finally says, and you immediately don’t like the tone of his voice.

“Yeah,” you say, slowly. “Junseok couldn’t make it last minute, so I just came straight here.” You don’t miss the look that passes between Jeonghan and Soonyoung, and you inwardly groan in preparation when you realize what’s about to come.

”Wow, he canceled?” Soonyoung says, sarcastic as ever.

“We’re so surprised,” Jeonghan follows, and you roll your eyes.

“Things happen,” you try, but your friends don’t even flinch.

“Yeah, they always seem to happen with him in particular, especially when you guys have plans. Poor guy.”

“Come on. Stop.”

Jeonghan smacks you on the arm, and you yelp. “He’s such a dick, Y/N. Break up with him.”

“We’re not dating! I’ve told you a million times that we’re just friends.”

“Does the fact that you’re just friends justify how he treats you?” Soonyoung asks, and that hits you, hard. Your shoulders slump, and Soonyoung sits next to you on the couch.

“He’s just forgetful,” you murmur, but even as you say the words, you don’t really believe them yourself.

“Hoshi is the most scatterbrained person I’ve ever met,” Jeonghan points out, “and even he remembers plans.”

The man in question appears offended for a brief moment, before quickly brightening up at the end of Jeonghan’s statement. “Yeah,” he nods solemnly in agreement. “I sometimes forget my sentences half way through. If I can remember making plans with my friends, so can he.”

You remain silent. You know they’re right, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“You know who else never cancels on you, at least not without a solid explanation?”

You know where this is going, but you’re definitely going to pretend that you don’t. “Joshua? Seokmin? Love those guys. Truly the most loyal companions and —“

“Seungcheol not only sticks to plans, he also makes them with you first,” Jeonghan continues on, interrupting you, not even batting an eye as he ignores your pouting.

“And he’d probably rather poke his own eye out than cancel on you,” Hoshi supplies.

“He’s my friend,” you protest weakly. “Do you mean you guys wouldn’t gauge an eye out on my behalf?”

“No,” the two men opposite you answer at the same time, and you sink back into your seat with a huff.

“DK would,” you mumble.

“Yeah, but — bless his stupid ass — he’d do that for any of us,” Hoshi points out. “Seungcheol, on the other hand, thought it was funny to lock me out of the bathroom when I was hungover and needed to throw up last Saturday morning.”

“Okay, but Cheol told me that you spilled a bottle of vodka all over his new laptop while you were drunk and tried to cover it up,” you counter. Hoshi opens his mouth to retort, but Jeonghan cuts him off.

“Last week, he canceled lunch with Mingyu and I just because he didn’t want to get out of bed.”

“He had an exam the night before!” you protest, quickly jumping to Seungcheol’s defense in his absence. “For a really hard class, too! He was telling me about it when he came over to study.” The two men stare back at you pointedly, and you feel your cheeks flush. “What?”

“Nothing,” Jeonghan simply smiles, and it unsettles you. “Just that I’ve known Seungcheol for three years and I’ve never, not even once, seen him willingly study with someone else. He always talks about needing to focus alone.”

You feel a blush creeping up your neck, and try valiantly to hide it with your turtleneck sweater. “Maybe you guys are just annoying.”

“Or maybe he’s in love with you,” Soonyoung pipes up, a wide grin on his face, and you let out a whine.

“Stop,” you plead as the two of them high-five.

“You and Seungcheol are so annoying. If we’re talking about good ‘friends’,” Jeonghan puts quotation marks in the air around the word as he says it, “he should be at the top of your list. That man cares about you so much it’s kind of sickening.”

”Are you saying you don't care about me?”

You’re trying to change the subject, and Jeonghan knows it. He glares at you. “We care about you enough to try and knock some sense into you, don’t we?”

“I’m leaving,” you announce, pushing yourself off the sofa, sweater in hand.

“Hey,” Jeonghan calls out as you pass through the threshold. “Can you take this, too?” He appears a second later as you’re tying your shoes, holding out a pair of socks. You raise an eyebrow in question. “They’re Cheol’s,” he explains. “I can almost guarantee you’re going to see him before I do.”

“How do you know that, Jeonghan?”

“When are you guys hanging out next?”

You squint at your friend for a moment, before you begrudgingly take the socks from his hand. “Tomorrow morning,” you murmur. You pointedly ignore Jeonghan’s laughter as you all but slam the door behind you.

“How was yesterday?”

“Hm?” You hum through a mouthful of food, glancing back up at Seungcheol.

You’re sitting across from him at your favourite cafe. It had been silent since your food arrived and you’d both shut up to shovel food into your mouths, so you’re surprised when he speaks up. You also have no idea what he’s referring to.

“You hung out with Junseok last night, right?” Seungcheol asks, and you wince.

“Oh,” you manage. “No, we didn’t end up getting together.”

Seungcheol doesn’t hesitate, clicking his tongue as he brings his coffee mug up to his lips. “Asshole.”

“Cheol.”

“What? He’s an asshole.” He sets his coffee down again, elbows on the table as he runs a hand through his hair and asks, “Did he cancel, or did you?”

You look back down at your food. “He did.”

Seungcheol simply nods, crossing his arms as he leans against the back of the booth. You’re reminded again of just how big his arms have gotten lately, and you try to shake the thoughts before your gaze lingers just a bit too long. “Of course he did.”

“He’s trying,” you mumble miserably, knowing it sounds lame, even to yourself. “He’s getting better at following through.”

The man in front of you raises his eyebrows. “Is he?”

“You’re being a dick.”

“I’m just telling the truth.” Seungcheol shrugs. “Why do you even like him?”

“I don’t like him like that anymore,” you mutter. “I haven't for a while. It was a dumb crush, Cheol, you know that. We’re friends now.”

Seungcheol scoffs. “Okay, well, I’m your friend too. And as your friend, I’m telling you – he’s an asshole.”

This time, you don’t offer a rebuttal. You fall silent, pushing the eggs around on your plate. You can feel Seungcheol watching you, and you can practically hear his defenses lowering the longer you stay quiet. Usually, you can keep up with his banter and sass, but you know he can tell that you’re actually upset now. You’re tired of arguing. Deep down, you know he’s right, and you don’t have it in you to meet his gaze.

“Somebody who cares about you wouldn’t do stuff like that, friend or otherwise,” he finally speaks again, his voice softer now. “I know it sucks… but sometimes, it really is that simple.”

“Yeah,” is all you say.

“Hey.”

You make yourself look at him again, offering him as much of a smile as you can.

He smiles back, soft. “People care about you, okay?”

You nod. The longer he looks at you, the more you start to feel that electric current, that low buzzing that seems to take over your entire body whenever Seungcheol is close. Jeonghan’s words linger in the back of your mind as he finally looks away, breaking the tension between the two of you.

That man cares about you so much it’s kind of sickening.

You hate how downright… silly you feel.

”He promised he’d make it this time,” you sniffle, and Seokmin squeezes you tighter into his side. “He even booked the tickets. Why would you book the tickets and then cancel on the day of?”

“Once a liar, always a liar,” Jeonghan calls out from his kitchen.

“Once an asshole, always an asshole,” Seungcheol agrees. He’s leaning against the doorframe that separates the kitchen from the living room, and you don’t know why it hurts a little that he hasn’t tried to comfort you at all since you walked in. His comment only serves to upset you more, and you glare at him.

“Are you happy?”

Seungcheol blinks in surprise, turning back to you from where he was watching Jeonghan in the kitchen. “What?”

”Are you happy that you’re right? Do you feel good about it, Cheol?” You can feel Seokmin pat your shoulder comfortingly, but it doesn’t help — you’re annoyed now.

”What are you even talking about, Y/N?”

“You’re right — he’s an asshole. You’re right. You love being right, don’t you?”

The silence is almost palpable. Jeonghan has stopped moving in the kitchen, Seokmin is frozen next to you, and you can cut the tension in the room with a knife. Seokmin slowly moves to stand up, heading into the kitchen with Jeonghan, leaving the two of you alone.

“It’s not about being right,” Seungcheol finally says, and you avoid his gaze when he joins you on the couch. “All I care about is the fact that he should treat you better.”

Seungcheol’s tone leaves no room for argument, and you can feel your shoulders sag. You know that he’s right — and you hate it.

“I know,” you admit, and all of your misplaced anger drains from you in seconds. “I know he should,” you repeat, feeling your remaining defenses start to crumble. “So why won’t he?”

You say the last words so quietly that you’re surprised anyone hears you, but you know that at least Seungcheol has when his shoulders fall. You hear him inhale a breath, but you speak again before he gets a chance to say anything.

“I just don’t understand why I’m not worth the effort.” You can hear your voice crack, followed by silence, and then — you break. The tears are falling before you can stop them. You feel the couch shift as Seungcheol turns. Whatever hesitation he’d had about comforting you before seems to ease up as his hand finds your knee and gives it a gentle squeeze. You’re grateful, but you still can’t look at him.

“What about the people who do treat you well?” His tone is softer now, but you can tell he’s still upset by the tone of his voice. You don’t have a chance to answer before he speaks again. “I could tell you a million times how great I think you are, I could make a thousand plans to hang out, I could go on and on about how much I like being around you… but nothing will change until you figure out a way to believe me. I—“ He clears his throat. “We— care about you so much. All of us. We should be the people that matter.”

“But what did I do wrong? With him?”

Seungcheol’s hand on your thigh is gone in a flash. He stands up, and you miss his warmth immediately. “I don’t know what else to say,” he says, voice low. He’s angry, you can tell, but he would never admit to it.

You want to apologize, desperate to bring him back to you, but you’re frozen.

“I’m going to head out.” He doesn’t say anything more, doesn’t look back at you. Jeonghan and Seokmin appear from the kitchen, but no one says anything except for a ‘drive safe’, and then he’s gone.

It’s silent for a moment, and then you say, “I fucked up.”

To your surprise, Jeonghan doesn’t scold or tease you. He doesn’t even agree. Seokmin disappears back into the kitchen to tend to the food Jeonghan was cooking, but Jeonghan himself joins you on the couch with a sigh.

“Listen,” Jeonghan starts. “You and I are similar — we always tend to focus on the people that don’t care. We want to be loved, so when someone doesn’t put in as much effort as us, we feel like we have to figure out why. We want to know what we did wrong, even though we didn’t do anything wrong at all. We forget that there are tons of people that love us a lot already. I love you, for example.” Jeonghan pinches your thigh affectionately, before he juts his thumb in the direction of your front door. ”Or what about that guy? The one who just left my apartment, pissed, because you let someone make you question your worth? He cares about you without thinking twice. For him, it’s effortless. You’re worth it, and you’ve never had to prove that to us. You just are, and always have been.”

You’re officially crying now. You know you’ve really upset Seungcheol, and you know your friends are all right. You know it, you know they love you and you love them, but why don’t you believe that you deserve it?

“I should go home,” you say softly, but your hand squeezes Jeonghan’s in acknowledgement, in a quiet thanks.

“I won’t say anything else except for this,” Jeonghan says gently. “I know you think Cheol is worth it, too. Being with someone doesn’t always have to feel like effort.” He shrugs. “Sometimes, it’s effortless.”

You spend the next week thinking, and thinking, and thinking, until the ball drops and you finally just do it. You block Junseok on every social media, you delete his number, and you’re proud of yourself for it. You don’t message your friends back very much throughout the week. Seungcheol in particular has been radio silent, but you suppose you deserve that. You don’t reach out first, instead taking the time to process everything that’s happened, to process everything you’re feeling — and not just about Junseok.

You know that Seungcheol has always meant a little bit more to you than anyone else. Now, you’re wondering why you’ve never done anything about it — and you’re also wondering just how long you’ve been blind to the fact that Seungcheol most likely, almost definitely, likes you back.

Y/N [5:36pm]: early Galentines dinner at my place this Sunday at 7?

You receive an almost immediate thumbs up from Seokmin and Soonyoung.

Hannie [5:43pm]: yaaaaas

Wonu [5:44pm]: might be a bit late but I’ll be there

Kwanie [5:52pm]: NOOOOO I’m busy :(

Kwanie [5:52pm]: galentines?? WITHOUT ME????? UNBELIEVABLE

You smile at that, texting Seungkwan a private apology in a separate chat. Your heart jumps in your chest when you receive another notification, and you’re filled with relief so quick and intense that it feels like you’ve been doused in water.

Cheollie [5:58pm]: I’ll be there. Cheollie [5:58pm]: need help setting up?

You hug Seungcheol the second he walks through your door. He reciprocates, and you feel relieved and anxious and warm and fuzzy all at once.

Now, a half hour has passed, and neither of you have mentioned what happened the week before. He tells you about his week at work, and you hate the small talk but you know it’s all just the road back into the familiar ease of your friendship — so you participate. It’s only when you’ve finished getting ready for dinner, Valentine’s Day decorations and lights all strung up and ready to go, that he speaks up again. You’re preparing tea for the two of you when he catches you entirely off guard.

“Will Junseok be joining us tonight?”

You can feel your shoulders tense up. You can tell that it pains him to say it, but you also know he’s the brave one for even bringing it up. You take a deep breath.

“He’s not coming tonight, or any other night, actually.”

Seungcheol seems surprised as he hands you a mug from the cupboard before grabbing one for himself. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

You shrug. “It’s okay. I’m fine, really.”

Seungcheol’s eyes follow you as you move across the kitchen to the kettle, pausing before speaking again. “I can tell.”

You turn back to him as you click the kettle on to boil, an eyebrow raised in his direction. “Was that sarcastic?”

The man smiles as he shakes his head. “No, I mean it. You seem happier than...” He trails off, but you both know what he’s thinking: than when I saw you last.

“I am,” you reply honestly, and it’s silent again for a moment before you both start to speak at the same time.

“Listen, I–”

“Hey, Cheol–”

You can feel warmth start to spread through you when he begins to laugh at your clumsiness — it had only been a week, but you’d missed that. You’d missed him.

“You first,” you offer, and he nods.

“I’m sorry that I was frustrated when I left the other day,” he says, and you tilt your head in surprise at his apology. He shrugs before continuing, “I shouldn’t have left like that… but in my defense, I didn’t know you’d disappear for a week.” He’s joking, and you smile a bit at that.

“I’m the one who should be sorry, Cheol.” He joins you at the counter and you begin to pour hot water into both mugs, eyes focused on the task at hand, but you can feel him next to you. It suddenly all feels so intimate, the way you’re making tea for him the way he likes it without him saying a word, the way he watches you move around in your kitchen as if he does it every day.

You turn to hand him his tea and when your eyes meet his, you feel a flush begin to creep up your neck to find him already looking back.

“I mean it,” you say softly, and he hums in response, eyebrows raising as he takes a sip and waits for you to continue. “I really am sorry for not being around the last couple of weeks.” You hop up onto the counter, legs dangling off of it as you wait for your tea to cool.

Seungcheol sets his mug down on the counter and sends you a soft smile, one shoulder lifting in a shrug. “It’s okay. I get it.”

You nod, looking down, and pick at a thread on your jeans. “Thanks,” you say quietly, but he knows you’re not finished speaking. His eyes don’t leave your face, and his fingers still grip onto the handle of his mug as he waits, ever patient, for you to gather your thoughts. “I’m still sorry, though. I was just so overwhelmed and didn’t want to deal with it, so I let everything build up to a breaking point.”

“I promise it’s okay,” Seungcheol repeats. He’s being genuine — you can hear it in his voice. Your eyes meet his again, and you almost wish they hadn’t because you have more to say, and you might lose all of the courage left in you if he keeps looking at you like that.

“Just… Just let me explain,” you request quietly, and he nods again. “I… I guess I just needed a bit of time to myself. To figure out what’s important to me.” You pause, choosing your next words carefully. “To figure out who is important to me.”

You can feel your cheeks flush as you finish. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you this whole time, and you think your heart is in your throat now as he continues to gaze at you.

“Yeah?”

Does he understand what you’re implying? Your eyes move to land on the dark strand of hair that’s fallen into his eyes. You suddenly feel a desperate need to reach out, to brush his hair back, to touch it. To touch him. Would he let you? Does he want that, too?

“Yeah,” you finally repeat, your quiet voice matching his as you meet his gaze again.

He moves then, slowly, almost as if he’s worried he’ll scare you off, shifting closer and reaching across your legs to set his mug in the sink. Your breath catches in your throat as he straightens back up in front of you, his now-empty hand falling to the counter beside your thigh. He’s standing right in front of you, caging you in between his arms, and you can’t look away.

“And what’s the verdict?” Comes his question, dark eyes searching yours.

“That I should start to focus more on the people that show me they care. Because those are the ones that I care about the most, too.”

The tension in the air is palpable.

Then his fingers gently, tentatively, brush against yours where they rest on the counter. He doesn’t do anything more, testing the waters, and it takes everything in you not to shiver. His gaze falls to your mouth, and you hold your breath — then he looks down and away from you, his eyes squeezing shut, and the moment is lost.

“Cheol?” You say carefully, desperate to get him to look at you again. He hums in response, but he doesn’t look up. You don’t know what he’s thinking, but you feel like if you don’t say what you want to say right now, you never will. “Thank you.”

That seems to get his attention as he lifts his head to meet your gaze once more. You can tell he’s surprised as he murmurs, “For what?”

“For being here.” You’re not sure if that’s what you meant to say, or how you meant to say it, because it sounds far too simple for how you feel about the man in front of you. And then he smiles.

“Of course,” comes his reply. You watch as his smile grows and he says, “I was told there would be free beer.”

You blink at him for a moment, processing — and then you let out a single, surprised laugh. You feel some sense of relief wash over you as the tension between you breaks a little, as everything around you seems to soften. You feel a little bit like you’re glowing from the inside out, warm and fuzzy like the pink heart-shaped lights strung up around your apartment, and you wonder if he feels it, too. You’re starting to think that maybe he does.

“Cheol,” you say, and you offhandedly wonder why you’re saying his name so much. He grows serious again, but the lighter air between the pair of you gives you just enough confidence to continue. “I don’t just mean today,” you elaborate, your voice soft. You feel vulnerable now, even more than before, your eyes falling to your lap. “You’re always there when I need you, and even sometimes when I think that I don’t.” Seungcheol laughs quietly at that. “It means a lot to me.”

He doesn’t hesitate. “You mean a lot to me.”

When you look up, you find him gazing back, and you abruptly realize that he’s moved even closer. The fingers that were playing with yours move up to your waist, and your entire body reacts to the warmth of his palm.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs, a quiet question that threatens to overwhelm you. He’s making sure that you want this just as much as he does. It sends a shiver down your spine.

“More than okay,” you affirm. His mouth lifts at the sides, dimples just peeking through. Again, you think that there’s something more that you wanted to say, but your breath is caught in your throat and he’s just so… beautiful.

“I…” He trails off, and you watch as his eyebrows furrow. You’re desperate to be even closer as you wait, closing the final space between you to press your forehead to his. “It was so hard not talking to you this week,” is what finally he says, and though he hasn’t said much, you think you understand.

I missed you. That’s what he’s trying to say.

You desperately want to communicate to him that you won’t leave him like that again, that you don’t plan on going anywhere, that the last seven days away from him sucked just as much for you. In a bold move, you ease your legs apart, leaving room for him to stand between them. Your calf moves to hook behind his knee, tapping against him in a silent request for him to come even closer. You hope he understands — that you want him close like this, that you missed him more than you think he realizes.

He seems to understand you just fine.

He easily fills the space you made for him, his chest nearly flush against yours now. He gives your waist a gentle squeeze, and you inhale a shaky breath as he brushes his nose against yours. Your hands have found his shoulders, grasping onto the material of his sweater, and his eyes fall shut.

The same, pesky strand of hair is falling into his eyes again, and you’re pretty certain that given your current position, you’re allowed to do something about it now. So you do, lifting a hand to gently brush it back and over his forehead, gaze following the movement. His eyes open at the touch, and a whisper of your name brings you back to him.

The moment you lock eyes again, he’s leaning forward to capture your mouth with his.

Your hand falls from his forehead to his bicep as you gasp into the kiss, as you try and process. When you do, when you realize what’s finally happening, you can’t get enough. You’re pulling him in so close that you feel a bit feral, your fingers pressing into his arms, his back, one hand finding its way to the hair at the nape of his neck. You can tell he’s not faring much better than you as he chases your lips relentlessly, as he pulls you into him so close that you can’t feel anything but him.

When you finally need to breathe, your hands find his face. You pull back, eyes taking him in as he lets out a breath, like he can’t believe what’s just happened, either. He looks at you, and you look back, and you have no idea what to say or do — until suddenly, you’re beaming. You can’t help it as you pull him back in for one long, slow kiss, grin wide against his mouth, your hand moving again to the back of his neck. He’s smiling, too — your favourite smile of his, the one that’s completely, entirely genuine — and when he pulls away only to bury his face in your neck this time, you can feel the smile against your skin.

“Fuck, I’m in love with you.”

It’s quiet, whispered against your skin, but you hear it. Your fingers pause their trail up and down his back. You move his face back up to look at him, your eyes searching his, desperate to know if you heard him right. “Cheol?”

He kisses you again, once, twice, so slow and soft that it makes your head spin. “I love you,” he says, breathless against your lips. He waits for you as you let it sink in, his hands firm on your waist, eyes boring into yours so you know that he means it.

You believe him.

“I love you too,” you whisper, foreheads moving to rest against each other once more. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t be. It’s okay.”

He pulls you into his chest, and you can feel just how fast his heart is beating. You’re certain that yours isn’t doing much better.

“I do have a question though,” he says after a few moments pass, and you hum, urging him to go on. “You said you were going to spend more time with the people that care about you, right?”

You move back to look at him and tilt your head in question. “Yes?”

“I’m guessing that includes Jeonghan and Hoshi and the boys,” Seungcheol muses, and you nod, your eyebrows raising. Then he pouts, and you sputter out a laugh.

“What’s that face for? They’re your friends, too!”

Seungcheol huffs. “Yes, but if you meant that you’re going to kiss them like that, too, then –”

You clap a hand over his mouth. “Ew!”

The man in front of you has a shit-eating grin on his face now, and you remove your hand. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

“Trust me,” you shudder, “you’re the only one I’ve ever thought about kissing.”

“You’ve thought about it, huh?”

You look up at him, smacking his chest. “Shut up!”

“Don’t worry, I’ve thought about it too.” When he moves to kiss you again, you stop him with a hand on his chest. “Speaking of our friends,” you tease, “they’re literally going to be here any second. You have permission to kiss me as much as you want to later, okay?”

A/N: here it is! The first of our Thirteen Valentines. I have to be honest, I got a little carried away with this one... I'll put out a full disclaimer that not all of the fics will be this long! Seungcheol has a solid grip on me and I couldn't do anything about it, you guys.

Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :)

Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @tae-bebe @gyuminusone @savventeen @eoieopda

#seungcheol fluff #seungcheol angst #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x you #scoups x reader #scoups x you #scoups fluff #scoups angst #scoups imagine #seungcheol imagine #seventeen imagine #seventeen fluff #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #seventeen angst #my writing #thirteenvalentines #cscfic #I’m so nervous to post this lol

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sweetdispatch · 5 months ago

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You have my blessing - N. Hischier

masterlist pairing: Nico Hischier x Hughes!reader summary: You visited Jack and met his team. He saw your interaction with Nico and decided to play matchmaker. warning: none note: based on this request - getting requests from you is like dream come true! thank you for the trust❤️

There's always been you and three brothers who you loved deeply but with one you had a special connection. You and Jack are twins and you two were inseparable. Despite different hobbies, you were stuck together. For him, you were his favorite person in the whole world and you were always the first one to find out about his achievements. He was always calling and talking with you. Through your whole life, it has been you and him against the world.

Right after you two graduated high school, Jack moved to New Jersey and you moved to Paris. For you, studying abroad was like a dream come true and you were delighted when you got accepted. Jack was celebrating this with you, but deep down he felt sadness that you’re leaving America and now, you two will be on long distance. During the season, you barely see each other but when you were coming back for summer, you two were attached to each other’ hips.

You graduated in Paris and decided to stay there for a little bit, just to enjoy the city. You loved the vibe here and wish to live there forever, but you missed your friends and family. You knew that you wanted to move back to America but still haven’t picked the city. It was one of the lazy days, when your mom called you.

“Hi sweetie, are you busy next week?” She asked you.

“No, I have free time. Why?”

“There’s a mom’s trip with New Jersey and since I have two sons there, I was thinking that you might want to go with me. Luke said that the club is fine with this” Your mom proposed and you jumped.

“Yes, please. I would love to! I miss you guys. On my way to book my ticket, should I fly to Jersey and stay with Jack and Luke or fly to Michigan to go there with you?”

“Fly to Michigan, let’s make a Jack surprise with your visit because he doesn’t expect that”

“Sure thing mom! I love you” You hung up and started packing to go see them.

You were beyond excited for this trip because you never saw Jack and Luke’ game live and you missed them. The last time you saw your family was a couple months ago and this was a perfect opportunity.

The week went by and now, you were in New Jersey with your mom and Luke in his and Jack’s place. Your twin was still on the rink doing media duties. When he finally returned, you jumped into his arms.

“I missed you so much!” You said.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in Paris?” He was shocked to see you.

“I have a free week and when mom proposed to go with you on the trip, I was more than happy to do it”

“Wait… Are you going with us?” He couldn’t believe his ears.

“Yeah, I’ll finally see you playing and meet your team” Jack pulled you into another hug.

The next day, you and your mom attempted on their open training. It was a new experience for you and you loved every minute of it. After it, Jack pulled you to meet the whole team. You said a quick hello to everyone but one player caught your attention.

“Jack said you’re studying abroad” Nico started the conversation.

“Not anymore. I graduated in May and now, I’m just living there but also searching for apartments somewhere in America because I want to come back home”

“And where do you plan to live?”

“I don’t know, I was thinking about New Jersey to be closer to Jack”

“He mentioned that too” Nico jokes

“What did he mention? I hadn’t told him that” You were surprised at his words.

“That you two are really close. To be honest, if not Luke talking about you too, I would never believe that Jack has a twin” You laughed and this brought Jack’s attention. “I mean, I never saw you and I was thinking that he’s making up your existence”

“I’m very much alive just never had the chance to see his game until now”

“I’m guessing you’re coming with your mom on the trip”

“Yup, that’s why I’m here”

“Great, see you around” Nico said and left for the locker room. You stood there with a big smile. Jack saw the whole thing from afar and saw the chemistry between you two. Two of his favorite people being together? That was his plan.

During the trip, you and Jack were glued to each other. All the time joking and talking about life. You went on a dinner with him, Luke and your mom and you announced that you decided to move to New Jersey. Luke was happy to have you around, you were always for him with advice and support. Jack screamed from the excitement. He was delighted to have his favorite person finally back. Jack was also happy because he wanted you to be with Nico. He started planning on how to get you two together.

After a month, you finally moved to New Jersey. For now, you lived with Jack and Luke while searching for your new apartment. You were attempting their every home game and they’ve been truly happy to have you by their side. You were also spending a lot of time with Nico. He was living in the same building apartment as your brothers and Jack was inviting him almost all the time. He was doing this on purpose.

Jack loved you and Nico and this was melting his heart how the two of you are getting along. Many times, he was ditching you and Nico when you had plans in three just so the two of you could get alone time. You quickly fell in love with Nico. He was the guy of your dreams. He was so gentle with you, always paid for you and surprised you with small gifts. Nico felt the same towards you. It was a pleasure for him to treat you like a princess. You two were perfect for each other but your brothers were an issue.

You two lived in a bubble and didn't even realise that Jack was pushing you two towards each other. One day, you had enough and straight away asked him.

“Would you be mad if I was dating one of your teammates?”

“Depends what teammate” Jack said and looked at you. “Why are you asking?”

“I might be in love with one of your teammates” You told him truthfully. You were twins and there was nothing to hide. You wanted to be honest with him.

“That’s huge… Who is that?”

“Don’t be mad but it’s Nico” You looked anywhere but his face.

“That’s great! Finally all my work paid off” He giggled.

“Your work paid off? What does it even mean?” You were confused.

“Oh please, when I saw you and Nico for the first time, I knew you’re made for each other. When you moved here I was doing everything in my power to push you two towards each other. I want you to be happy and I can see that he makes you happy” Jack hugged you. “Now go and get your man” He pushed you out of the apartment.

You laughed and went to see Nico. You knocked three times and he opened your door.

“Hello” He hugged you.

“Hi…” You started. “I talked with Jack and we have his blessing”

“Wait what?” Nico looked at you.

“He said that he’s happy that you’re making me happy and apparently, all the time he ditched us was his plan to get us together” You explained to him.

“You can’t be serious” He laughed.

“For real, this is what he told me” Nico closed the gap between you two.

“I guess I can officially do this” He grabbed your face and kissed your lips.

#nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier oneshot #nico hischier fanfiction #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #new jersey devils #jack hughes x reader #v' work

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ed3lsgard · 29 days ago

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ok no one asked for this BUT. i wanted to share some of my fav markhellyna and some hellyna fics bc ive read almost all of them. this will kinda be like an ultimate collection, so its a long list!

(all rated E for smut and etc)

(beware for dead dove content)

•

missing me?

Helena Eagan, leader in waiting to Lumon Industries is missing, presumed dead.

So why does Mark see her constantly?

•

say yes to heaven

Professor Mark Scout meets a 26 year old grad student Helena at a Ganz fundraiser.

•

the you inside of you

Helly speaks before she can think. “Fuck you.” But it isn’t enough. She can hear her heartbeat in her ears, the rage in her belly shifting into something more, unnameable almost.

“You really are such a fucking brat, aren’t you?”

Helena Eagan discovers that reintegration has some...side effects.

•

hit me harder (i’m getting re-wired)

To an innie that has only ever experienced the sterile fluorescent lights and the dull electrical hum of the Lumon office, every sensation is new and exciting. Even pain. Especially pain.

•

deja-vu

What’s one I need you text between sisters after five years of radio silence? The catalyst for an impromptu nightclub visit, apparently.

•

blessed are the broken

Helena Eagan has never known desire—that is, until she steps into Father Mark Scout’s chapel.

•

two minds

Helena Eagen has always been polished, poised, perfect. In control.

Helly R. changes things.

•

a helping hand

Helly's been in the bathroom for 30 minutes. Mark offers to help her out.

•

plaything

Helly R wants to quit. Why would Helena do that? She’s having too much fun with her.

•

axis & allies

The girl doesn’t move. Mark looks at her funny.

“I’m Helly,” she says.

“Uh, hi, Helly. Why are you sitting on my desk?”

Quiet laughter. Helly slips from the surface, extending a hand he has to cross the room to shake.

“Helly R—your TA?”

Six months after the death of his wife, Mark returns to Ganz.

•

drowning on dry land

A grieving Helly and the MDR team chart a path forward after the events of the ORTBO.

Meanwhile, Mark Scout reintegrates, setting himself on a collision course with Helly, a woman he’s never met but can’t stop dreaming about.

•

snare

After the restaurant, Mark takes Helena on a drive.

•

soft as sin

Recently promoted Mark Scout attends his first end of quarter celebration at the Eagan estate and meets a young woman that he’d like to know more about.

•

amomaxia

Mark and Helena nasty drunk hookup

Set after they meet at the Chinese restaurant, of course.

•

sleeping (with the enemy)

Helly had only been able to hate Helena when she was a faraway concept. When their lives were interwoven this way, she couldn’t ignore the way the feeling morphed.

For the first time, Helly was angered by the fact that she didn’t know Helena. In another world, any other set of circumstances, maybe they could have been friends.

If she fucked herself, was she fucking Helena, too?

•

sick as it sounds

Mark meets Helena months before his innie gets brained by Helly R. He's gonna need a lot more bandaids.

•

5 times helly asked mark to reintegrate (and the 1 time she didn’t)

When Lumon is shut down, reintegration is offered as standard to all of its previous employees. Mark Scout isn’t sure he wants to reintegrate, in fact, he’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to. Helly will just have to do her best to convince him otherwise.

•

a circle in salt

She goes up wanting him and comes down wanting him. It’s something she cannot fathom living without.

(moments in between)

•

hey there, you on the table

“You’re going to lie down on the table. In there. Then you’re going to take your clothes off and touch yourself while I watch.”

Struggling to find somewhere private and desperate to fuck each other, Mark and Helly end up back in the conference room where they first met.

•

brief hold, please

Helly comes into work with a hickey. Mark is distracted.

•

drink the honey

Mark and Helly make use of their Hall Passes to explore more of the severed floor, eventually stumbling upon a hidden lab. Mark gets afflicted by one of the strange chemicals in the lab, and the only cure available is Helly…

•

freaky friday

When Reghabi floods the chip in Mark’s brain, the severance barrier is disturbed. What happens when Mark Scout wakes up on the severance floor?

•

yours, mine, ours

Alone in his bed, Mark dreams of them. Helena and Helly, together. Wanting him. Wanting each other. In the quiet hush of his dream, he finally stops choosing.

-x-

Or. A deleted dream scene from missing me ch.13. Can be read as a stand alone piece.

•

pas de deux

Mark Scout accepts a teaching position at the Myrtle Eagan Ballet Academy; Helena Eagan's attendance might make things complicated.

•

outside with you

Something goes wrong with their chips, causing Mark and Helly to wake up outside of work.

•

wedge

This sudden, suffocating need to be near Helly. To touch her. To hold her in ways that were intimate. Wrong. The kind of closeness she could only fantasize about in secret.

—

The Eagan twins attend the Myrtle Eagan School For Girls

•

tame your tempers, soothe your soul

Woe. Malice. Dread. Frolic.

Four tempers, one for each combination of the splintered lovers, drawn together time after time.

Post season 2. Mark S, Helly R, Mark Scout and Helena Eagan reckon with the splintered, four-hearted thing they have become.

•

phantoms

A week after the events of the S2 finale, Mark Scout attempts to put together the pieces of his life. An added complication? He's still reintegrating, dreaming in Mark S.'s memories, and attempting to ignore the fact that his innie is trying to tell him something

•

(never) break the chain

Mark offers to meet with Helena to discuss his experience with the overtime contingency. Reintegration has other plans for him.

•

i wanna take you to euphoria

As a recreational drug, ether is inhaled for its intoxicating effects, causing euphoria, sedation, and hallucinations. The user may experience distorted thinking, euphoria, and visual and auditory hallucinations at higher doses.

•

doubles

“We know each other down there, don’t we?” He asks, but he doesn’t phrase it like a question. Doesn't see the point, not when they both already know the answer.

Helena’s face flickers. For a second, she almost looks rattled, and hides the rest of her reaction behind a sip of whiskey. The bottle clinks in the silence that stretches, her hand slowly falling away from the counter.

“We do.” She eventually says.

•

her favorite color

She was a bottomless pit of hunger — for freedom, vengeance. Destruction. She chewed through everything Helena gave her and spat it back out. It wasn’t enough to be given a body. A life. A clean slate. Free of the memories that would make her truly hollow. Nothing was enough.

Helly wanted to burn the whole house down, and Helena was locked in the basement.

or: helena wears a yellow dress to lift helly's spirits

•

bitter honey, sweet sickness (hellyna dead dove)

When she visibly reacts to the inappropriate touch, her mother glowers at her through the mirror. It’s like being scolded by herself, watching in third person the exact type of shame she should have felt to do what she did in the first place. Her hand inches higher, and Helly squeaks. Mother, she means to say, but that’s not what comes out.

•

office hours

“All administrators, faculty, and staff are prohibited from unethical or inappropriate fraternization with students, including, but not limited to, dating, pursuing a date, having or pursuing a romantic or sexual relationship with students.”

It’s literally in the handbook - written, signed, and stamped.

•

reading together

Mark and Helly find some interesting contraband in Milchick's office.

•

puzzle pieces

Professor Scout attends his first faculty mixer in 3 years, with his arm curled around the lower back of his hot, young, scandalously dressed new wife, Helly.

•

heat lightning

“Mark.” She murmurs, her voice echoing. The tap drips.

She’s so alive, he thinks. So, so alive.

---

Post s2e10 Cold Harbour

•

miss eagan

The executive floor was dark except for a thin slice of light spilling from Helena’s office, pooling in the otherwise dim hallway. A trap laid out, just for him.

She looked different at night. He noticed the faint wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. The soft smudge of mascara beneath one of them, barely noticeable unless you were looking closely. She didn’t look sloppy. Just real. And somehow more dangerous for it.

—

Helena Eagan gets a hot young intern

•

part of you knew

Mark’s had an inkling- the way Helly gravitates towards encouragement is something that he’s just filed off as endearing in his head. But it’s slotting into place now, the actual weight of it. Helly really, really likes being complimented.

#i read too much fanfiction #welp #i might update this later #severance #helena eagan #helly r #mark scout #mark s #markhelena #markhelly #markhellyna #hellyna #ao3 #fanficfion

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aemondsbabe · 1 year ago

Text

Praise | Taunt Part 2

summary: michael has been tutoring you for weeks and the closer you get to him, the stronger your feelings seem to grow but does he feel the same way about you?

pairing: michael gavey x reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, profanity, dirty talk, breast/nipple play, teasing, degradation/dumbification, oral (f receiving), fingering, piv sex, unprotected sex (technically the reader is on birth control but it's not mentioned in this part), angst (michael is in his sad boy hours for a lil bit), creampie, light cum play, light choking, daddy kink, dom/sub vibes, discussions of mathematics, michael being a lil clueless (aw, bless) -- let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 9.8k i will not apologize, i am not sorry

a/n: i have to say, i've grown so attached to this little pairing and i hope y'all love them as much as i do!

TAUNT | Part 1

MAKING AMENDS | Bonus

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

“Fuck this,” you mutter, jaw clenched as you yank over the next page of your statistics textbook, practically ripping the page as you flip it over. You can’t help but grumble, each page of notes you flip through only adding to your foul mood as you hunch over your desk, numbers and letters swimming together in your vision. “Ugh!” You toss your pencil down, rubbing your temples as it clatters across the desk before falling to the floor.

“Oi!” Louise sits up against the pillows on your bed across the room, tugging off a headphone as she looks at you, resting her own textbook on her lap, “You doin’ alright, babe?”

“I’m gonna fail the final,” You groan, head in your hands, “I’m gonna fail it, and then fail out of Oxford, and then I’ll have to go back home and then my parents will kill me.”

“You’re not gonna fail,” she sighs, pushing herself up so her legs dangle over the bed, “You’ll be fine. You were so worried about that last quiz and you nearly got a perfect score, remember?”

You let out a petulant whine, one you’d be embarrassed about if your head wasn’t pounding, and lean back on your wooden desk chair, bleary eyes staring up at the ceiling. “That was before we started consumer mathematics,” you lament, chest heaving with a sigh, “I have no hope now.”

You can feel Louise jokingly roll her eyes behind you when she huffs out a laugh as she slips off your bed, coming to stand behind you, her face upside down as she looks down at you, a hand on her hip. “Why don’t you just text Michael? I thought he’s been helping you.”

Just hearing his name makes your heart feel funny in your chest and you sigh, sitting back up before turning to look at your friend, “It’s…complicated.” Inwardly, you can’t help but cringe at yourself; the situation is anything but complicated and yet it somehow feels impossible.

“Explain,” Louise commands, leaning back against your desk with her arms crossed across her chest. She laughs when you groan, pushing your shoulders back from where you’ve curled in on yourself, forcing you to look at her, “Babe, I love you, but it’s Michael Gavey. How on Earth is that man ‘complicated?’” She asks, cocking her hip as she does air quotes with her hands.

“Because I like him!” You blurt out after a second, hiding your face in your hands, “I like him and I don’t think he likes me and every damn time we study, we just end up fucking and I can’t keep fucking him because I like him!” The words rush out of you before you have time to think about them, your whole body deflating like a balloon as you release weeks worth of tension.

Your head snaps up in shock when Louise giggles, your mouth hanging open even as the corners of your lips threaten to quirk up into a smile. “How dare you!” You admonish, playfully slapping at her hip, “I’m pouring my heart out to you and you laugh!”

“Sorry, sorry!” She shakes her head, breathily laughing as she tries to get herself under control, “I’m sorry! I just…what do you mean he doesn’t like you? That man is in love.”

“What?” Your eyes narrow as you stare up at her, “How do you know? I’ve tried flirting with him and he doesn’t ever seem to respond to it.”

At this, Louise shakes her head and shoots you a concerned look, “I don’t think he’s the type to get flirting, hon.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you honestly think anyone has ever flirted with him?” Louise asks, giving you a pointed look, “I don’t have anything against the guy, but come on. You’re gonna have to hit him over the head with it.”

“Yeah, okay,” you acquiesce; in your weeks of getting to know Michael, you’d learned that while he wasn’t clueless, he was definitely not as experienced as he had first appeared, “That still doesn’t mean he likes me, though.” You point out, raising an eyebrow at your friend.

“Do you really not see the way he looks at you?” She smirks, “I’ve said two words to the man but, trust me, he is smitten, babe.”

You look away, biting at your bottom lip as you think over what she had to say. Your eyes scan over the surface of your desk, unfocused, as thoughts bounce around your head. Louise simply pats your shoulder before going back to your bed, resting on her stomach as she resumes reading through her book.

You’re quiet for a moment before your eyes land on your phone, sitting temptingly on the corner of your desk. You glance back and forth between it and the still-opened textbook in front of you, frustration rising in your chest once again at the mere sight of the various formulas on the pages. Finally, with a sigh, you grab your phone and flip it open, quickly scrolling to Michael’s contact.

“U busy now?” You text quickly, pressing send before you have a chance to second guess yourself before setting the phone down quickly, practically dropping it on the desk as if it were burning you.

Not even a minute later, although it feels like an eternity, it vibrates. You hesitate for a second, tempted to just slog your way through this chapter on your own. Finally, you sigh and reach for your phone, not wanting to sacrifice your newly-improved grade or your situationship with Michael.

“In my room. Why?” He replies, always concise and to the point.

“Need help w the new chap,” you type, biting your lip as you shuffle through letters on the small keyboard, “Can I come over?”

“Sure, see you soon.” His reply comes quickly, making your heart race.

With a nervous sigh, you push yourself up from your chair, groaning as you take a second to stretch before striding over to your small dresser. “I’m going to his,” you say, glancing over at Louise, “I’m officially waving the white flag on this chapter.”

“Wear lingerie!” She says quickly, practically skipping over to you and leaning against the wall next to you.

“What?” You laugh, shooting her a questioning look, “Why would I do that?”

“Duh!” She huffs with an eye roll, “Put in some effort to fuck him and it might help get the message across.”

“How do you know we’ve been–”

“Your room is right next to mine,” she points out, looking at you tiredly, “And the walls in this ancient building are thin as paper. Come on.”

“Okay, okay,” you put your hands up in surrender with a laugh before pulling open your underwear drawer; as convoluted as Louise’s plan was, you couldn’t exactly see a downside to fancying up a little, “Any suggestions?”

“Hmm,” she hums, shuffling through the small pile of fancy lace you had shoved in the corner of the drawer, “Ooh, these!” She chimes victoriously, holding up a lacy bra, “This color always looks so good on you, you’ll make his head explode.”

With a nod, you grab the bra and matching underwear from her, “If this doesn’t help, I will be holding you personally accountable.” You laugh, seeing her politely turn away from you in the corner of your eye as you begin pulling your clothes off.

“I mean, it is still on you to actually say something,” she chuckles, peering out the window as she waits for you to change, “Honestly, if it was me, I would’a locked that shit down ages ago. The sounds I hear coming from this room…” She jokes, shaking her head.

“Sounds?” You ask, your face flushing as you hurriedly clasp the thin bra behind your back, “You can hear us?”

“You two are not nearly as sneaky as you think,” she laughs, “I mean, who would’ve thought that little nerd had it in him?”

“He has hooked up with people,” you defend, pulling on a t-shirt and skirt, short enough that you knew it would make the blond’s head spin, “He’s not totally helpless.”

“Hookups are different than boyfriend dick,” Louise points out, shuffling back on your bed until her back was resting against the wall next to it, “And based on all the screams I hear from you, Michael has boyfriend dick.”

With a laugh, you roll your eyes, not even bothering to question her as you shove your things into your backpack. Sitting down at your desk chair, you pull your small mirror over and give your hair and makeup one last look over, glancing back at Louise as she continues, “I mean, come off it, babes. You don’t even make those noises by yourself.”

“You can hear me?!” You squeak out, whipping your head around.

“The walls are paper thin!” She laughs, “I’m sure you can hear me too, and everyone else. You honestly think that doesn’t go both ways?”

“Ha ha,” you say dryly, slipping on your shoes before standing and grabbing your keys from the small hook next to the door of your room, “I’m going, can you lock my door when you leave?”

“Yup!” Louise chirps, not bothering to look up from her phone as she waves you off, “Go get that nerd dick!”

With a sigh and an eye roll, you pull your door closed.

You make it to Michael’s in record time and pause in front of his door, giving yourself a minute to calm down before you nervously knock.

Almost instantly, the door swings open. The thought that he might’ve been perched next to it, waiting for you to show up, makes your chest squeeze as you murmur a hello.

“Hiya, pretty.” He says lowly as you move past him, closing the door and watching as you dump your backpack by his bed. His room wasn’t much different than most other guy’s dorms you’d been in – sparsely decorated with only the essentials, although you did appreciate the posters and pictures Michael had hanging up. There were all sorts of different ones pinned to the dark wooden walls, from bands he liked to small polaroids of his pets from home. Every time you were here, though, your heart couldn’t help but hurt a little as you never saw pictures similar to some of the ones you had up – ones with friends.

“Needed some help from little old me?” He teases.

“Yes, oh my God!” You sigh, your dramatics making him crack a smile as he takes a seat at his desk, “This new chapter is doing my head in!”

“Alright, alright love,” he murmurs, signature smirk poised on his lips as his blue eyes peer at you from behind his glasses, “Get your things, I’ll see if I can help.”

With a nod, you pull your notebook from your backpack as he turns to the chapter in his own textbook. As you move, you can’t help but glance at him from the corner of your eye, taking in everything from the dark red t-shirt he wore, complete with a cheesy maths pun on the front, to how ruffled his golden hair was, like he’d just woken up from a nap. Maybe the light was playing tricks on you, but you swore you saw him glance over at you a time or two too.

“Haven’t heard much from you this week,” you start, pulling up the extra chair he kept in a corner of his dorm room, “How’ve you been? Oh! And how did that paper for your calculus class turn out?” You ask, glancing at him as you flip through the pages of your notebook, looking for where you’d left off.

“Oh, yeah,” he clears his throat, leaning an elbow on his desk, “The paper was great, actually. Thank you for your help by the way,” his lips curve up in a sheepish grin, “I’ve always been a bit shit at writing.”

“Yeah, no problem,” try to ignore the way your stomach twists at his gratitude, “I’ve always been shit at maths so it works out.” You joke, pride filling your chest when he chuckles. The longer you’d spent working with Michael, the more comfortable the two of you became, and slowly but surely he’d let his guard down. He was still the same cocky, downright arrogant prick in class but when it was just the two of you, you couldn’t help but notice that he’d grown…softer. Those sharp, taunting edges of his had been smoothed a little, sanded down by jokes he shared with you rather than sarcastic jabs directed at you.

“Mmm,” he hummed, those blue eyes you’d grown so enamored with sparkling with mirth, like he was always just one step ahead of you, “Don’t sell yourself short, baby. You’ve improved a lot,” your cheeks flush and the butterflies in your stomach roar to life, whirling around wildly at the simple compliment, “Not nearly as much of a dummy as you were a few weeks ago, yeah?” He finishes, lips tugged up in a viciously smug smile as he watches the way your eyes grow wide, the way the pink hues making their home on the apples of your cheeks bloom ever brighter, extending almost all the way to your neck.

“Michael,” your voice is hoarse as you croak his name, desperately willing your mind to stay on track, “C-Can we focus on the notes, please? I really do need help, I mean maybe later we can–”

“Don’t get yourself in a tizzy,” he says, blessedly cutting off your nervous babbling, “What’s giving you problems, pretty?”

“Uhh,” you fumble, kicking yourself internally as you scramble to reset your brain, “The stuff we went over last week,” you flip through your notes, finally pointing your pen at the hastily scribbled notes you’d taken in class, “The monthly investment stuff; I guess the formula Professor Davies went over just seems really complicated to me. Like, I was having a really hard time following it in class with the way he was explaining it.”

Michael nods his head as he listens, his eyes quickly scanning over your notes before flitting to the accompanying pages in his nextbook as he lets out a sigh. “Ahh, okay,” his fingers brush over yours as he takes your pen, once again sending your mind into a flurry as you blink, desperately trying to clear the fog that seemed so determined to invade your brain, “So, remember the compound interest formula we went over earlier?”

You nod as he peers over at you, admittedly only halfway listening as your heart hammers in your chest. “Uhm, y-yeah,” you nearly whisper before clearing your throat, “Yeah.” You nod once more, trying to keep your voice steady as you watch him scrawl notes on your paper; your eyes glaze over as you observe the way his long fingers hold your pen, making it all too easy to imagine those same fingers sliding into your mouth and holding your tongue down as he whispers filthy things into your ear, skirting their way into your underwear and curling just right against –

“It works similarly,” Michael continues, hunched over the textbook as he copies down a sample problem, “So, the monthly investment formula is basically just the yearly salary over twelve months. I think the formula is getting to you, but it’s not really that complicated in practice.”

You nod your head dutifully, his voice sounding muffled to your ears as your thoughts continue spiraling, lewd thoughts of his fingers and cock playing like a video on the backs of your eyes. He hands the pen back to you as he finishes copying down the question, gazing at you expectantly as you look over the problem.

“Okay, so, uhm,” you stammer, eyes desperately scanning over the page as if the answer will magically reveal itself to you, “So…you’d divide these…?” You ask timidly, already knowing you’re wrong.

“You aren’t paying attention at all, love,” he says, not even needing to question it as he shakes his head in mock disappointment, “What’s going on in that pretty head, hm? What got you so distracted?” He rasps, one hand moving up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, even that simple action damn near causing you to whimper.

“I don't,” you swallow, mouth dry as your eyes flutter shut for a half second before reluctantly meeting his, heart pounding wildly in your chest as the smirk on his face makes a graceful reappearance when he sees the glazed over, near empty look on your face, “I don’t know.” You finish finally, voice breathy despite your best efforts.

“Hmm,” he hums again, trailing that hand down your neck and the side of your arm before finally letting it rest atop the thigh closest to him, his touch practically burning your skin, “I think I have a pretty good idea of what’s taken over that empty fuckin’ head.”

Before you even have a chance to reply, his hands are on your hips. He firmly pulls you into his lap, lithe frame disguising his true strength as he settles you atop his thighs.

“Michael, I–”

“Hush,” he commands softly, warm hands skirting over your waist as he tugs you back into him, your back pressing into the familiar expanse of his chest once again, “I know exactly how to help, pretty girl.” He whispers, his breath fanning over your cheek before he presses a light kiss there, trailing them down over the side of your neck as his hands slip under the bottom of your t-shirt. His touch makes shivers cascade down your spine as you feel his hands ghost over your stomach before they cup your breasts; he lets out a pleased hum when he feels the delicate lace of your bra, which does nothing to hide your already pebbled nipples as they press against the palms of his hands.

“I think,” he continues, chuckling darkly when he already hears small whines escaping past your lips as he continues massaging your breasts, “You need that wet little cunt played with, hm? I know she’s already dripping, pretty.” His voice is rough as he speaks, his hips grinding up into you, making you mewl on his lap as you feel his cock already poking against you even through the jeans he wears.

“P-Please,” you whine brokenly, embarrassed to already be reduced to such a state, “Please, Michael, I need…fuck, I need something, anything, please!” You’re used to begging for him by now, the two of you have hooked up enough over the past few weeks that you know he loves how whimpery and desperate you get, loves to hear the little hitch in your voice when you beg and plead with him so.

“Not Michael,” he grunts, roughly pinching at your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra, just enough to make you cry out and squirm on his lap, “Try again.”

“Oh–,” you gasp, unable to stop the way your hips desperately wriggle on his lap, tantalized by the feel of him, even through all the layers of clothing between you, “Sir! Sir, please!”

He huffs out a laugh, low and raspy in your ear as he trails one hand up, poking it through the collar of your shirt to wrap it lightly around your throat – not enough to choke you, but just enough to remind you of your place. “Someone must be feeling extra stupid today, hm? Haven’t been sir in weeks, love, you know that.”

A hungry whine claws its way past your lips as your head tilts back onto his shoulder, your eyes squeezing shut as your cheeks heat up, trembling in his lap. This has been his favorite part, experimenting with that one little name it takes so much for you to say. It’s funny really, eventually he’d admitted to only hearing it in a porno, not something he could attribute to his string of experiences with one night stands. You’d just been the first person he’d been intrigued about enough to try it on; he was hooked the moment he saw your reaction and had slowly worked it into your little routine, requiring you to day it, to beg him so prettily with it, before he’d ever give you what you wanted.

“Come on now,” he groans, the movements of your hips finally getting to him, “Tell me what I want to hear and I’ll keep this precious cunt occupied so that that little head can work properly.” His hand abandons your breast, a laugh rumbling through him at your cries as he trails it up one thigh, slipping it under the bottom of your skirt.

“Daddy!” You finally blurt out, the ache in your core finally growing too big for you to keep denying, “Please, daddy, please, just… fuck, just do something!”

“Shh, shh, babygirl,” he coos, half laughing as he slips his hand up under your skirt, cupping your throbbing center over the thin lace of your panties, groaning when he feels how hot and wet you are under his touch, “No wonder you can’t think straight, hm? So messy.”

You whimper helplessly in his lap, hands scrabbling before they tightly cling to the forearm he has halfway under your skirt. “Oh, fuck,” you breathe heavily, head swimming as his fingers press down on your aching clit before circling the bud slowly, the lace of your underwear only adding to the fire building within you, “Oh, my God!”

Michael grunts lowly into your ear as he twirls his fingers against you, nipping at your neck as he rocks against you from below. “Here’s how this is gonna go, love,” he whispers lowly, speeding up the movements of his long fingers against you, “If you can get the formula right, you can come…”

“Wha–!” You splutter, your chest already heaving as you struggle to catch your breath, nails digging into his forearm as you feel the knot in your stomach already beginning to tighten; Michael had made it his mission over the last few weeks to learn every little thing that made you tick, and Christ, if he wasn’t a fast learner, “T-That’s not–”

“If you can’t get it right,” he continues, smirking against your cheek as he presses his fingers ever tighter into the column of your throat, “Then I’ll just keep edging and edging you until I’ve gotten my fill of those precious fucking noises you make, hm?”

You struggle in his hold, not getting very far as his touch has already reduced your muscles to jelly. Your hips keep rutting up into his fingers despite your feeble attempts to stop yourself, knowing he absolutely means to make good on his threats. With a defeated whine, you let your head loll to the side on his shoulder, burying your face against the pale expanse of his neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, you breathe in his now-familiar scent, although that only serves to put you more on edge.

Michael suddenly moves, sitting up straighter in his desk chair and bringing you with him, causing you to yelp a bit. He keeps a steady hold on you as he leans forward, his fingers never ceasing their circular movements on your aching clit as he tilts you forward, angling your head so you’re once again face-to-face with the textbook and notes still laid out on the desk.

“Now,” he starts, resting his chin on your shoulder as his eyes scan over the pages in front of you both, seemingly wholly unbothered with your current state, “What’s the first step?”

You can feel your eyes stinging with unshed tears as you blearily look over the paper, your eyes not really focusing on anything as you feel the knot in your stomach pull tighter and tighter with each movement of his hands against you.

“M-Michael, I–” Your voice sticks in your throat, your hips moving entirely of their own accord in his lap as your walls clench desperately around nothing, that familiar growing ache nearly taking over your entire center as your breath hitches.

“Ooh,” he murmurs with saccharine sympathy, quickly pulling his fingers from you just before you fall over the edge; you can feel him smirking wickedly against your cheek as you twitch against him, letting out mournful little whines, “That was a close one, wasn’t it, pretty girl?”

The room feels as if it’s spinning as you come down from your almost-high, your walls throbbing as low cries slip past your lips. “F-Fuck…” you sigh hoarsly, hips still pathetically twitching against his jean-clad lap.

“I know you know this,” his breath is warm against your cheek as he angles his head toward yours, blond hair tickling the side of your face as he peers at you from behind his glasses, “Be a good fucking girl and tell me which step is first and I’ll touch you again.”

Your eyes frantically scan over the problem as you will yourself to remember something, anything, from one of Professor Davies’s lectures last week, your hands abandoning Michael’s forearm to white-knuckle the edge of his desk instead as you try to steady yourself.

“Y-You, uhm, you multiply,” you start, swallowing heavily as something finally seems to click together in your brain, “You multiply the exponents, daddy.”

You practically preen under his touch as you feel more so than hear the pleased hum he lets out. “Very good,” he drawls slowly, pressing soft kisses against your cheek, “See? I knew there was something going on in that head of yours.” You know he’s taunting you on purpose, pulling out every trick he knows will make you blush, though you can’t bring yourself to care as you feel your heart soar with his praises.

A loud moan tumbles past your lips as he resumes touching you, his fingers once again teasing your clit through the thin fabric of your panties, the aching bud now all the more sensitive to his touches after you were denied an orgasm. You nearly double over on his lap as pleasure immediately zings up your spine, your muscles tensing in his hold.

His hand abandons your throat and pulls out from under your shirt completely as he reaches for your pen and quickly scribbles down the first step of the formula, easily multiplying the numbers in his head before setting your pen back down.

“Now then, what’s next, love?” He chuckles meanly against your cheek as you whine. He groans appreciatively as he feels your arousal leaking into your panties, soaking the fabric against his fingers while his other hand comes up to cup your breast over your shirt, feeling your aching nipple pressing against his hand even through the fabric.

This game continues for what feels like an eternity, his fingers delicately teasing you right up to your breaking point before he cruelly yanks his hand away as he quizzes you again and again until you slowly but surely work your way through each step of the problem.

You’re a sweaty mess on his lap now, skin damp and flushed as he pulls his hand away for what must be the hundredth time, although in reality it’s only the fifth. You let out a feeble whine, long past begging and pleading as you know it won’t do any good.

“You’re so close,” he teases, chuckling to himself at the double meaning of his words, “Just need to solve it now, pretty baby. The sooner you do, the sooner I’ll make you come.” He promises, patting his fingers over the soaked patch on your panties just enough to make you jump.

“D-Daddy, please!” You sniffle, no longer trying to reign in the tears streaming down your cheeks as your center aches and clenches, empty, “Please, I need–”

“You need to answer the fucking question,” he grunts through clenched teeth, one hand still cupping your spasming center while the other shoots up to your neck, angling your head toward the paper once more, “You asked me for help, love. And I’d say this is helping; looks like that empty little brain is able to recall information after all.” He teases, smirking cruelly as he ruts against your ass, taunting you with his hard length yet again. “Come on,” he continues, urging you on, “You’re doing so, so well for daddy. Just need the last little bit.”

Your head spins as you look at the paper and you halfway wonder if your fingers have made intents in the wood of his desk yet, “It’s, it’s the yearly salary,” you say quickly, voice high-pitched and breathy, “T-The yearly salary over twelve, fuck, m-months.” You rush out, squeezing your eyes shut.

Somehow, more blood seems to rush to your cheeks as he gasps in fake surprise, really laying it on thick for you. “Oh, what a good girl!” He praises, arms wrapping around you tightly as you squirm in his hold, his warm body pressing against yours only making your need greater, “I knew you could do it, that’s right, love!”

Quickly, he multiplies the numbers you indicated, mumbling under his breath as he quickly thinks through the equation. A few seconds later, you hear your pen moving against the paper as he scribbles down your answer, circling it with an over-done flourish.

“You’ve done it!” He coos happily, pressing kiss after kiss to the side of your cheek, trailing them down your jaw and neck, “You want your prize now?” He asks lowly, trailing his hand back up your thigh slowly, fingers just barely skimming over your throbbing center.

All at once, you seem to come back to yourself as the fog lifts momentarily behind your eyes as your desperation drives you. You nod your head frantically as you turn on his lap, finally facing him and relishing the sweet, proud smile spread across his lps.

“Please, Michael, daddy,” you ramble, pressing kisses against his cheeks and neck before he finally angles his head and catches your lips with his; the two of you sigh into the kiss, yours morphing into a desperate whine as you press your chest against his, shivering as your nipples peak from the warmth of his body alone. His tongue licks along your lower lip before he gently nips at it, chuckling as you mewl into his mouth as his tongue meets yours. You kiss him frantically, sighing happily when he delicately sucks your tongue into his mouth before you pull away with a whimper. “Please, please, I need it,” you murmur against his lips, clinging to his shoulders, “I can’t wait any longer, please!”

He shushes you with a soft laugh, hands skimming over your waist. “D’you want my mouth or my fingers, pretty girl?” He mutters softly, holding you steady on his lap.

“Mouth!” You answer instantly, making him chuckle at your desperation, “Please, please!”

“On the bed,” he commands, giving you one last kiss before pushing you up, helping to steady your shaky legs, “Good girl.” He praises again, patting your ass teasingly when you finally steady yourself enough to cross the room, stopping to kick off your shoes quickly before sitting yourself down on the bed.

Michael follows after you, smirking as he kneels on the bed, one foot still on the floor. He smiles and cups both of your cheeks, kissing you once more like he can’t get enough. “You, pretty girl, are very overdressed,” He drawls, waiting for your subtle nod before pulling your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor by the bed. “Holy…” his eyes are wide as he stares at your chest, taking in the way the delicate lace perfectly cups your breasts, nipples visible through the thin material, already hardened from his earlier ministrations.

Upon seeing his reaction, you get bold. Smirking, you pull up your skirt, spreading your legs as you draw your knees up to your chest, giving him a perfect view of your matching panties; the lace, long since soaked through with your arousal, practically glimmers in the low lamp-light of his room.

“Fuck,” he whispers, one hand adjusting his hard length, straining against his jeans as his blue eyes sweep over you, taking in every flawless inch, “To what do I owe the honor, hm?” He finally collects himself, smirking again as he reaches out to lightly skim a finger over the soft silk of one strap of your bra. He’s never seen you in something this nice, and certainly never a matching set, the sight of the soft lace against your skin would be enough to make him finish in his jeans if he weren’t careful.

“Wanted to wear something special for you…” You say with a small shrug, heat rising to your cheeks once again as you look up at him shyly through your lashes.

He tilts his head to the side, clearly not picking up on the deeper meaning behind your words as he squints his eyes at you, confused. “Why…why would you wanna wear something special for me, love?” He questions softly, his voice coming out more as a breath than words.

“Michael,” you sigh, squirming under his affectionate gaze as you gather every ounce of confidence in your body. You swallow as your eyes dart between his, your heart quickly speeding up in your chest; you take a deep breath, Louise’s words echoing in your head, “I…I really like you.” You say simply, carefully watching his reaction.

“You…do?” He asks slowly, eyebrows shooting up in surprise, his eyes widening as he watches you nod with a shy smile. “Why me?” His voice is smaller this time, his whole body seeming to deflate as he sits back on the edge of his bed, shoulders slumped as one foot still rests against the wooden floor.

“Why wouldn’t I like you?” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, head cocking to the side as you move closer to him, placing a hand on his knee.

He sighs heavily, glancing up at you before looking down to where your hand rests on his leg, “No one really does.” He finally sighs, his eyes downcast.

Without thinking, you move closer to him, pressing yourself against him as you practically climb into his lap. This time, it’s your turn to gently cup his cheeks, your thumbs resting just under the gold rims of his glasses as you angle his head toward you. “I do,” you say softly before frowning a bit, pulling away just an inch, “Do…do you not feel the same way?”

“No!” He says quickly, shaking his head as he grabs at you, pulling you back toward him, “I mean yes! I mean,” he sighs frustratedly, running a hand through his hair as he swallows heavily, “I do like you, I– Fuck, I don’t know who I’m kidding, I’ve never liked anyone this much,” he says softly, smiling as he watches your eyes grow wide, “I just…never thought a girl like you would want much to do with me.”

“What does that mean?” You whisper, heart hammering so hard in your chest you’re sure he can hear it with as little distance as there is between the two of you.

“I…,” he pauses, chuckling bitterly, “I guess I always assumed you’d wind up with Catton or…or one of his little minions. Everyone does.”

“Everyone?”

He tilts his head up to stare at the ceiling for a second, like he’s willing himself to tell you some deep, dark secret. Finally, he fixes his gaze on you again, one hand fiddling with the seam at the bottom of your skirt. “He was my friend once,” he begins, his voice soft and uncertain, “I don’t think I ever meant much to him, he just took me in as some charity case. To help the weirdo loner boy, I guess.”

You stay silent as he pauses, watching him carefully as he speaks. The corners of his mouth twitch before finally dropping into a frown, his eyebrows pulling together as if he were in pain.

“I don’t know what happened in the end, to be honest,” he continues, blinking his eyes as he shuffles through memories, “I think maybe I wasn’t falling in line enough – I didn’t just blindly follow him like the others. He must’ve gotten tired of it cause one day I got to school and everyone just acted as if I wasn’t there, even mates I’d had before. They all just got pulled into his orbit and left me.”

“Michael…” you coo softly, thumbs lightly brushing over his cheeks.

“And then, one night I went to the pub with– with Oliver.” He practically spits his name, nose twitching with anger.

“Oliver?” You question, the name ringing a bell as your eyes narrow, trying to picture his face, “Oliver Quick, you mean?”

He nods, eyes flitting around his room before they settle on you again. “He was my friend…I thought he was anyway. Way back at the start of term,” he sighs, lips pulling up in a sardonic smile, “We went to the pub one evening to celebrate finally finishing some paper or whatever, and…you were there.”

“I was?” You pull back from him a fraction of an inch in shock, your eyes flitting over his face.

“Mhm,” he hums, nodding his head, “Sitting at a table with Catton and all the rest of the cunts.”

“Felix and I were never that close Mich–”

“And I got up to get another pint and when I got back…he was gone.” He continued, huffing out a bitter laugh.

“Oliver?”

“Yep,” he nods, hands gripping your waist more firmly as if he’s trying to anchor you to him, “He’d gone to sit with you lot and never so much as looked my way again. Then, once Professor Davies’s class started, I…Fuck, I liked you from the minute you walked through the door on the first day, love.”

“You did?” You smile at his confession, thinking back to all those months ago.

He hums again, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he buries his face in your neck, glasses smushed against his cheek, “‘N then I realized where I knew you from and I…lost hope. Got jealous. Doesn’t matter I just…I was so determined not to like you.”

“But…you do?”

He hums again, nodding against your cheek, “I remember kicking myself when I agreed to tutor you,” he laughs, breath fanning over your neck and collarbone, “But you’re really not like them, hm?”

You shake your head emphatically, holding him tighter to you as if that will somehow better prove your point, “I’m not.” You say simply, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

The two of you stay silent for a moment before Michael’s shoulders start shaking a little; you pull back a bit, worried that he’s upset until you see he’s laughing, gazing at you as if you were some ethereal being. “I cannot believe you fucking like me,” he laughs, damn near giggling, “No one bloody likes me.”

You can’t help but laugh with him, leaning your forehead against his. “Well, fuck them,” you say firmly with a cheeky grin, “I like you enough for every damn idiot in this school.”

The two of you laugh together for another moment before you feel that familiar heat building in your belly again, never able to stave it off very long when you’re in his presence. Michael must feel it too, one second you’re laughing with him and the next his fingers are threading through the hair at the back of your head and pulling you in for a hard kiss, pressing his lips desperately against yours as if he’s trying to prove to himself you won’t disappear. You whimper softly as his tongue licks into your mouth, swallowing his groans as you move your lips fluidly against his before he pulls away quickly.

“Gotta fucking taste you, love,” he whispers roughly, hands blindly searching for the clasp of your bra. You feel it pop open a moment later, a low, victorious hum sounding from his chest as he finally pulls it off, tossing it off the bed to land next to your shirt, “Fuck, I love these tits.” He groans hotly, quickly kissing down your shoulder and chest before taking a pert nipple into his mouth, making you gasp loudly.

“Oh, fuck!” You moan, eyes squeezing shut as you finally feel his mouth on you, head spinning at the way his tongue teases over your sensitive nipple before he sucks it into his hot mouth, “Michael, please, need it!” You whine pitifully, rutting yourself down on his thigh.

He guides you back gently, coaxing you to lay down on his bed as his hands push up under your short skirt once more to quickly pull your panties down, tossing them over his shoulder. “Not Michael, baby, remember?” He asks teasingly, pushing your thighs up and hooking his hands behind your knees.

He guides your knees up and up until your knees are pressed against your chest, all the while pressing soft kisses to the backs of your thighs as he peers up at you over his gold-rimmed glasses, strands of blond hair resting against his forehead.

“Please, daddy!” You correct yourself quickly, not wanting to take any chances of him teasing you further. You wiggle your hips in his grasp, making him chuckle lowly as he presses kisses closer and closer to where you want him. Giggling, damn near giddy with the excitement of having his mouth on you, you reach down and gently pull his glasses off and reach up to set them on the small table beside his bed.

“Shh, you’ll get it,” he promises, breath hot against your slick folds as he uses his thumbs to spread you apart, groaning appreciatively when he sees how wet you are, how your pussy clenches tightly around nothing, “You earned it, my love.”

The pet name sends you into a tailspin almost as much as the feeling of his warm tongue pressing against your clit does. You let out a long, satisfied moan at the feeling of it, arching your hips up into his mouth.

His groan of satisfaction vibrates through you, only adding to the sensations of his lips and tongue on your aching center. “Fucking hell,” he mumbles, releasing his hold on one thigh to run two long fingers through your slick, gathering it as he teases your entrance, “It’s been far too long.” He groans, speaking more to your throbbing core than you, the thought sending another zap of pleasure swirling up your spine.

“It’s been, like, a week!” Your giggle turns into a breathy moan as he kisses your clit, gently suckling it between his lips as he carefully slips two fingers into you, immediately crooking them up against the spot that he knows will drive you wild.

“Too long,” he grunts into your folds, tongue sweeping over the length of you before he teases it at your clit. “Fuck, if I could eat this sweet little cunt every day, I would.”

Your eyes roll back in your head and your back arches as he feasts on you, shaking his head back and forth to bury his face further into your heat. He growls into you as he licks into your entrance, removing his fingers for a moment to fuck his tongue into you, savoring your sweet taste while the tip of his nose rubs perfectly over your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, oh, fuck,” you gasp, body jerking and twitching as pleasure floods through you, the knot in your stomach growing dangerously tight at just a few touches, “D-Daddy, I’m— oh, fuck!” You cry, arching your back as he slips his fingers into you, expertly fucking and curling them against that rough patch within you, making stars dance behind your eyelids.

“Y’getting close?” Michael murmurs around your clit, sucking it into his mouth and laving his tongue over it before letting it slip from his lips with a wet pop, “S’okay, my love, come on. You don’t need to ask for it, baby girl, you’ve earned it, just come.” He coaxes, slipping a third finger in beside the first two and grinning when he hears you cry out at the added stretch.

You breathe heavily, chest heaving as you pant, wanton whimpers and whines spilling past your lips as your fingers weave into his golden hair. Michael’s eyes roll back in his head at the feeling, so pleased with himself that he can make you feel this good, that he can pull these sounds from you that he groans, long and low, into your cunt as he licks and sucks at your folds, flicking his tongue over your swollen bud.

“Can feel you getting tight, pretty girl,” his lips move against your clit as he speaks, “This sweet cunt wants to milk daddy’s fingers, doesn’t she? Fucking let her, baby, come on.”

The knot inside your belly implodes on itself as your body loses all sense of rhythm, every muscle contracting and relaxing as waves of pleasure finally wash over you. You can feel your walls pulsing around Michael’s fingers as your high consumes you, a garbled moan of his name leaving your lips as you shake against him.

He doesn’t let up, digits pressing tightly against the spot inside you as he lewdly spits onto your cunt, loudly slurping it up as he continues to fuck you with his fingers, sucking your still-pulsing bud into his mouth as he does.

“T-Too much!” You whimper, squirming in his hold as you feel yet another high quickly building within you, “Michael, d-daddy, please!”

“Hush,” he huffs, speeding up his movements enough to make you squeal as tears spring to your eyes, “You know what I want, baby girl, give it to me, let yourself have it.”

You grunt loudly as another wave consumes you, your eyes tightly squeezing shut when you feel yourself contracting around his thick fingers yet again. You’re so lost within yourself, you barely hear the slick, sloshing sounds emanating from your heat, but you certainly hear the deep, proud moan that Michael lets out, eyes widening as he watches your cunt squirt around his fingers, droplets wetting his wrist and the sheets on his bed.

You’re practically sobbing by the time he slows his fingers to a stop and gingerly pulls his fingers from you, shushing you gently when you whimper. “What a good girl,” he says softly, noisily licking his fingers clean of the evidence of your release, “Did so good for me, baby.”

The soft praises help you come back to yourself, brain returning to your body in just enough time to get a glimpse of Michael’s face before he buries it in your neck, a blush creeping across your cheeks from the shine of your release on his lips and chin.

“Thank you.” You whisper tiredly, eyes slipping shut as he presses kisses to your neck and jaw.

He laughs softly, leaning on his side next to you, one hand tracing up and down your body as he looks you over. “You wanna keep going or did I wear you out?”

You keep your eyes shut even as a playful smile slinks across your lips, a small giggle slipping past your lips as you wiggle your hips enticingly, making him chuckle with you.

The bed shifts suddenly, causing you to peek one eye open. “There she is,” Michael laughs when you open both eyes fully, watching as he quickly pulls his t-shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor to join yours. He stays on his knees as he unbuttons his jeans, giving you plenty of time to take in his pale chest and stomach, covered in a light wash of blond hair that tapers off to a trail, disappearing beneath the denim around his slender waist, “Want my cock, baby?” He asks, leaning back down beside you as he kicks off his jeans and boxers, cock springing out and resting hotly against your thigh.

Biting your lip, you can’t help but reach down and stroke him gently, a soft sigh leaving you at the sight of his perfect length. Michael grunts next to you, his head tilting back ever so slightly as he finally feels some stimulation on his cock. The delicate sound makes your heart race, knowing you could bring him such pleasure from such a simple touch. A blush blooms on your cheeks as you gaze up at him through your lashes, eyes wide as you smirk and wiggle your hips enticingly.

He smiles at you, eyes sweeping over your form admiringly, before finally meeting your eyes, slightly squinting as he looks at you without his glasses.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” He teases, chuckling as you nod eagerly and tuck your behind your knees, holding your legs up to your chest as your skirt looks around your middle. He leans in and kisses you softly, a certain emotion behind his movements that hasn’t ever been there before. He keeps you close as he moves, never taking his lips off of yours while he maneuvers himself on top of you, slotting himself between your thighs with a pleased exhale.

Your back arches as you feel him slide his cock between your folds, the head slipping perfectly against your clit. You grasp onto his shoulders to anchor yourself, mewling into his mouth as his hands grab onto the backs of your knees once more, holding you open for him. His lips trail down your jaw and neck, stopping to nip lightly at your skin, before continuing downward to your breasts. He licks and kisses over each one, paying special attention to your nipples and laughing softly at the cacophony of whimpers and whines you make as he teases them with his tongue.

“I’ve got you,” he sighs, pulling back just enough to grasp his cock, notching the head inside your opening, just enough to make you gasp and squirm, “Y’wanna go dumb on my cock, babygirl?” He says lowly, resting his forehead against yours as he bends down enough to make the muscle in the back of your thigh ache with the stretch.

“Oh, please!” You breathe, canting your hips up in an attempt to get even just a bit more of his cock into you, “Please, daddy!”

With a growl, Michael slowly slips inside you, humming deep in his chest as he does, his eyes slipping closed as he savors your tight, wet heat.

“F-Fuck,” you squeak out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he fills you completely, his girth stretching you to the brim, leaving no part of you untouched, “You feel so good!” You whine, eyes fluttering as you try desperately to remain focused on him, never tiring of the expressions he makes when he’s inside you.

Slowly, he begins thrusting into you, groaning lowly as your fingers grip tighter at his shoulders. His blue eyes roll back in his head, brows furrowing as he slowly speeds up, rocking into you in a perfect motion.

“Feels so good,” he gasps out, ardently biting and sucking at your neck as he does, angling his hips to make sure the tip of his cock presses against that sensitive spot inside you, “So fucking tight, shit.”

The two of you move together, his hips smacking against the backs of your thighs as he plunges in and out of you. You can’t help but blush when the wet, squelching sound of your cunt begins drowning out the sharp gasps leaving your lips every time he thrusts back in, the tip of his cock brushing deliciously against the very back of your heat.

A rumbling laugh sounds in his chest as he hears it too, making you flush somehow deeper as he fixes you with a filthy grin. “Little pussy loves me, huh?” He rasps, groaning at the sight of you trying frantically to answer, your mouth hanging open as useless whines and moans warble past your lips. “She does, hm? Pretty cunt loves daddy’s cock.”

“Yeah, yeah— fuck!” You mumble, nodding your foggy head as best as you can as you gaze up at him longingly, breasts bouncing along with his thrusts, “L-Love it, daddy, fuck!”

He moans softly and grinds himself against you, driving you nearly insane as the small thatch of hair above his cock rubs against your clit deliciously. Your arms shoot out, wrapping around his neck tightly and dragging him down to you, needing something to hold onto as your walls clench down hard on his length, every thrust into you making you see stars.

His hands drop from your knees, arms locking around your neck in turn, pulling you up to him. Your legs lock tightly around his waist, the two of you as pressed together as you can get, your breasts pressed tightly against his chest. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers hoarsely as his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your face back just enough to meet your eyes, “So pretty, so good.” He chokes out, eyes frantically darting between the two of yours, chest heaving as he pants.

You mewl harshly as his thrusts speed up even more, eyes nearly crossing as the head of his cock pounds perfectly against each sensitive spot inside you at the same time his abdomen grinds against your sensitive, swollen clit. You claw desperately at his back as you feel your walls clench and pulse around his length, well aware you won’t be able to hold on much longer but unable to warn him.

Fortunately for you, Michael has committed your tells to memory, even in the few short weeks the two of you have been intimate. “Come,” he commands harshly, gasping out the word just as you feel his length beginning to twitch inside you, “Fuck, come love, come.”

You nod your head wildly, rutting your hips against his as you shiver, your walls growing ever tighter on his length as you hang helplessly over the edge of your high.

“I fucking love you,” he grunts suddenly, squeezing his eyes shut and burying his face in your neck, mouthing uncontrollably at your neck as he keeps mumbling, “I love you, I love you, I love you so—shit, so fucking much! Fucking come, babygirl, come!”

Your head spins at his confession, heart hammering wildly in your chest as your high slams into you. You seize under him, shaking and crying as you pulse around his length, tears leaking into your hairline while you moan loudly, hips rutting wildly against him as you pull him somehow closer with your legs around his waist.

In the back of your mind, you hear him grunting harshly into your ear, squeezing the life out of you while he trembles, thrusting harshly into you one, two, three more times before stilling, hard cock pulsing wildly as he empties into you, flooding your walls with his warm spend.

Both of you pant harshly, a shiny sheen of sweat covering you. After a moment, you finally relax and your legs slip from around his waist, flopping lazily onto his bed.

You let out a breathy laugh as you look over him, his head still resting against your chest. His blond hair is messy, sticking up in all sorts of ways from where you’d run your fingers through it. Slowly, he relaxes against you too, slumping against you as he sighs tiredly, eventually matching your own spent laugh. Yours eyes slip closed after a moment and you let out a relaxed hum when you feel him tracing shapes onto your shoulder.

“I love you too.”

You giggle when his head instantly shoots up, tired eyes immediately meeting yours as he squints, “Y-You do?” The shock on his face is clear and he blushes so heavily the pink color extends all the way to the tops of his ears.

“For someone so smart you can be really dense,” you laugh, grinning as he sheepishly smiles at you, “How could I not?”

“Say it again,” he asks softly, a clear need in his eyes, “Please.”

“I love you, Michael Gavey.” You murmur, pushing a strand of hair off of his forehead.

He preens momentarily, shoulders seeming to square off with a newfound confidence before a familiar smirk lights upon his face. “No need to be so formal about it, love,” he quips, slowly pulling his softening length from your soaked core, shushing you sweetly as he does, “Daddy will do just fine.”

You roll your eyes with a laugh, playfully smacking his shoulder. “I’m trying to be sweet and you’re being an ass as usual!”

He snickers softly, biting his lip with a groan when he leans back to watch his cum slowly leak from you. “Well, lucky I’m your ass.” He smirks, laying beside you as he rests his head on his pillow.

“Oh, so you’re mine now?” You ask blithely, skimming a finger down one of his long arms.

“Mhm,” he hums, surprising you by lifting one of your thighs; you whine when his fingers connect with your center once again, gingerly gathering his cum leaking from you before pressing it back in slowly, working it into you with a smirk, “And you’re all mine, gotta make sure to claim you properly.”

You shudder at his words, biting your lip as you feel a familiar fog invading your mind once again. You don’t bother protesting, not even attempting to make a quick quip as you lean in and kiss him softly. A hot hand against your cheek makes you pull back, smirking when your eyes finally focus on his fingers, still shining with your combined juices.

“Jesus,” he breathes as he watches you take his fingers into your mouth, your own hands holding him steady at his forearm as you greedily suck at his fingers, “I fucking love you.”

“I love you too,” you giggle, finally pulling off his fingers with a soft pop, letting his hand rest against your waist as the two of you lie contently together on his bed, facing each other.

You see his eyelids begin to droop tiredly, a small sigh leaving his lips as he relaxes, “You know, you do have to actually help me study later.” You point out, laughing as he groans sleepily.

“Only if it ends with you on my cock.” He mumbles, pulling him closer to you as his breathing begins to even out.

“Like it hasn’t ended that way every time before?” You jokingly question as you let your eyes trace over his features, taking in his strong nose and jaw, smiling at the way his lips are still quirked up at the edges. Eventually, your eyes begin to droop too and you snuggle into him, breathing in his familiar scent as you drift off, something woodsy yet bookish, mixed with something that’s entirely Michael.

Your Michael.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenswife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @officerbrowneyes

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

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byunpum · 1 year ago

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Mama's Boy| part 2

Pair: Jake x neytiri x human reader (trio couple) x sully children's

Warning: kinda sad, crybaby lo'ak, Sweet family moment.

Note: Since the last post about this oneshot was so well received, I wanted to make another part. A little more sad, but with a good ending. More about lo'ak's relationship with his human mom and Y/N's relationship with neytiri and jake. If you want there could be a part 3, but that's up to you.

AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6(final)

"Payakan how I wish you knew my mother" speaks lo'ak to his friend. The boy had escaped for a while from the metkayina clan. His new home. He went to spend some time with his friend tulkun, he needed to distract himself. He had been feeling so sad the last week, his birthday was coming up and the most important person in his life was not with him. "She would love you so much…she is beautiful and kind and…she is everything" says lo'ak lying on the creature's back. As he looks up at the stars, pointing to one. " my mom also come from that star, just like my dad…but compared to my dad, she is a human" lo'ak looks at tulkun, who made a noise of curiosity. Payakan asked himself the same question everyone asked when lo'ak said his mama was a human.

"Mama says that eywa blessed her with me…that I am a miracle. That I am her miracle." Lo'ak continues to stare at the star, as his eyes begin to glaze over with homesickness. "That's why I have my hands like this…as well as my feet. And my facial features are a little different…I look like my mom" Lo'ak laughs a little, trying to control the tears that were starting to come out. Payakan asks him if he misses her, making lo'ak keep a long silence. "Of course I do… she's the only person who understands me" lo'ak turns and hugs payakan. Payakan can feel lo'ak's tears fall on his skin. It breaks his heart, feeling his friend this sad. "I wish mama was here," lo'ak says, whimpering even more.

You had to leave your family, when Jake had to leave the clan. Jake thought it best for you to stay with norm, until he could find a safe place. Where you could be with the family. The omaticaya clan accepted you because you had grown up there, but in other clans humans were not welcome. So Jake would eventually try to get them to accept you, this was temporary. But it was still painful for the whole family. Neytiri's tears were running down her cheeks, and she didn't want to let go of your hand, as she walked up to the ikran with tuk. The little tuk was crying, as she asked you to join them. "My darling…mommy will be with you soon" you comfort the little one, neytiri did not let go of your hand. "Promise me you'll be okay" says neytiri, watching you nod your head. You were doing everything you could to control yourself. You didn't want them to see you destroyed, especially since lo'ak was watching you. The other children in the family were sad, and wiping their tears. But lo'ak was serious, looking straight ahead. He was upset with you, he thought you might go and it was you who didn't want to go with them.

You walk towards jake, he kneels down and gives you a soft kiss on the lips (the reader is wearing the oxygen mask I explained in this post "click here") "I'll come for you…I promise" says jake, hugging you as tight as he can. "Please tell him how much I love him…yes?" you pull away from him a little, to look at lo'ak. Your boy doesn't even want to say goodbye to you. "I will…don't worry he will understand" jake says goodbye for the last time and gets on his ikran. Everyone leaves, lo'ak takes one last look at you, watching your figure grow smaller the further away they go. And there right there his eyes begin to fill with tears. ++ +++ It was only 1 day before his birthday, and lo'ak couldn't feel more sad. Usually you two had a habit. Normally you were always with everyone in the family, you were always with your other children. But lo'ak's birthday was special, just for the two of you. You used to walk through the jungle, make jewelry for him. It was your time together, and now he was sitting on the sand. Watching the waves crash, while trying to arrange various pieces of snail shell. He had spent the whole day, searching for the materials he needed, getting away from everyone.

Tsireya together with rotxo and ao'nung went to ask what was wrong, well tsireya wanted to know. Lo'ak had been distant from the group of friends. "Hey…you" shouts ao'nung getting lo'ak's attention as the group of friends approached him. "H-hello" speaks lo'ak glancing at them quickly, but turning his full attention back to his work. "What are you doing?" asks tsireya, kneeling down to be closer to see what lo'ak is doing. "I'm collecting material to make some bracelets with my mom, for when she gets here," says lo'ak. This gets the boys' attention, looking at each other curiously. "When she comes? Your mom is here" roxto speaks while pointing to the sully's marui.

Lo'ak looks at him, and laughs a little. "No…my other mom…my birth mom. She will be coming very soon," lo'ak says. "You have another mom? That sounds amazing" says tsireya cuirious at what lo'ak said. "Yes, my mom stayed in the jungle, so she would be safe. She is a person from the sky" says lo'ak, realizing what he said. "Ahh mmm" lo'ak tries to fix what he said. "Your mom is a demon? How is that possible?" ao'nung starts to laugh, but rotxo pushes him away. "Is that true?" asks tsireya, watching lo'ak get flustered. Taking everything from the sand, and starting to walk towards his marui. Leaving the group of confused boys with more questions. "That was very rude of you," rotxo says to ao'nung. The boy lifts his shoulders and rolls his eyes.

Lo'ak arrives at the marui, lucky for him only his parents were there. Jake was helping neytiri with the food, they both saw how lo'ak quickly entered and went to the balcony behind the marui. He was holding some things in his hands and by his face they could see that he was crying. Jake looked quickly at neytiri, she stops him. "I'll go," says Neytiri. Getting up to see what was going on, he found lo'ak sitting down. He had some shells in his hands, together with other materials. As he cried inconsolably. "Lo'ak…everything okay honey?" asks neytiri wrapping lo'ak in her arms.

"I miss mom…she's supposed to be here. Everything is fine…why isn't she here?" cries lo'ak, tears were falling non-stop on his arms. Neytiri didn't know what to tell him, she missed you too. She needed you too, everyone in the family did. "Lo'ak I know you miss her…but you must wait a little longer," Neytiri says. Lo'ak looks at her, his look was one of upset. He looked like a lost little boy. "dad said she would be here….and tomorrow is my birthday and she's not here!!!! I miss my mom!!!" lo'ak cries harder, while neytiri hugs him. Cuddling him on her chest, she decides not to say anything and just comfort her son.

After a while, neytiri manages to calm lo'ak down. The boy stays on the balcony preparing his materials. While neytiri enters the marui, seeing that jake was waiting for her. "So?" asks jake. Neytiri sits up and looks at jake. Her eyes were soaking wet. "Jake… Y/N I miss her so much" neytiri wipes her tears, jake walks over and hugs her. "I miss her too" jake comforts neytiri. "Isn't there some way she…" neytiri looks at jake. Jake knew what neytiri meant, but it was a difficult situation. It had been a few months since the altercation with the RDA, and barely everyone had made it out alive. Neteyam had been badly hurt, lo'ak and the others had almost died. And spider had to return to the Omaticaya clan. Ronal didn't want humans in the clan, so it was very difficult for jake to bring you in. "Neytiri you know I can't do anything" jake tries to explain to her, but she gets up annoyed. But before leaving the marui she looks at jake. "For some things you move heaven and earth…but to bring our partner you look for a thousand excuses. She wouldn't look for excuses to be with us" says neytiri, angry.

Jake was between a rock and a hard place. They saw him as the bad guy, but he didn't want to put you in danger. Jake knew that something bad could happen to you, this was a dangerous place. But seeing his family suffer like this broke his heart. He missed you too. You were also his partner…he needed you. You were an important pillar in the Sully family, Jake felt that little by little everything was falling apart without your presence. He felt that he was falling apart without you.

That night was very slow, everyone had gone to bed earlier than usual. And lo'ak didn't even want to eat. He stayed in bed all afternoon. He would be lying if he said he hadn't cried a few times. He fell asleep, wishing his wish would come true that eywa would listen to him. It was the only thing he asked for.

In the morning, lo'ak began to open his eyes carefully, watching as the sun's rays began to enter through the entrance of marui, but he continued to lie down. He closed his eyes more, not wanting the day to begin. It was his birthday and he already knew it was going to suck…but out of nowhere he felt someone give him a warm kiss on the cheek. Ignoring the affection, he settled in more. "mama let go of me" lo'ak moaned, thinking neytiri was waking him up. But he felt someone kiss him again and heard that distinct smile. "Are you sure about that my love?" you speak, you were on the edge of lo'ak's hammock. Lo'ak's eyes snap open, looking back. Seeing the figure of his mother there, he couldn't believe it. "Ma-mama is that you?" asks lo'k, her voice was already getting shorter as he felt the tears building up in his eyes. "Mmm yes my love…I'm here" you caress lo'ak's face. The boy turns and hugs you with all his heart. Starting to cry out loud, he was so happy. "Mama…my mama is here" lo'ak doesn't let go of you at any moment.

This wakes up the whole family, who are left in speechless shock when they see you there. In the middle of the marui, hugging lo'ak. The first to jump out of the hammock is neytiri, running towards you. To join lo'ak's hug. "Ma Y/N, for my eywa" neytiri also begins to cry from happiness. The other children also run to greet you. "Mama!!!" neteyam nuzzles into your shoulder while tuk and kiri do the same. "How are you here?" neytiri pulls away to look at you, lo'ak hasn't let go of you at any time. Sometimes he forgets that he is twice your size. "Well someone went looking for me" you speak as you see jake, this one was at the entrance of the marui watching the whole scene. Jake approaches his family. "Well…now we have to figure out how to fix this whole 'demon' being here thing" jokes Jake, stroking your cheek with his thumb. But nothing matters at this point, because everyone was excited enough to think about anything else.

After a long welcome, all the children in the family decided to go get you something for a special breakfast, leaving Jake, Neytiri and you alone for a moment. Jake and Neytiri were watching you from a corner as you settled your things. "Did something happen?" you ask laughing a little, watching your partners look at you so lovingly. Neytiri was still teary-eyed. "Come here," says Jake, shaking his hand for you to join them. You walk over taking jake's hand, you were now in the middle of the two of them. You watch as neytiri moves closer to you, taking your face in her hands. It wasn't a long kiss, but it was enough to let you know that she missed you. You hug her neck, feeling her face in your neck. "I love you so much," says Neytiri. "What about me?" says Jake, still holding your hand. You two laugh, and you pull Jake close to kiss him as well. Feeling jake pull you into his lap, giving you kisses on your cheeks. While neytiri sat right in front of you, very close. Taking your hands, caressing them. Checking if you had no wounds. This was a very intimate moment, a moment you had not experienced for a long time.

"Ney I'm fine" you laugh, while neytiri keeps checking every part of your body. Lifting your legs and arms. "Are you sure? Nothing happened?" neytiri asks and jake just watches with a cute smile on his face. "Yes…the ones I'm worried about are you guys. And more you" you look up to see jake, he still had some bruises on his face and some cuts that were still healing. "Oh no baby…I'm fine, don't worry" jake says, feeling you touching some wounds on his arm. "He's very stubborn…I've been asking ronal to take care of him for weeks" says neytiri. You look at neytiri curiously. "Ronal?" you ask. "Oh..ronal is the Tsahìk of this clan, and speaking of her. Let her know you're here," says jake. Neytiri looks at jake with surprise and punches him in the arm. "Don't tell me no one knows Y/N is here?" neytiri looks at jake, who just laughs nervously. "Jake!!!" you start to fuss, but watch as jake laughs and takes neytiri's arm so that now she was on his lap too. Snuggling both of you in his arms. "I'll worry about that later…now I want to enjoy my ladies' company" jake jokes, giving them both kisses. You guys complain, but you don't complain about enjoying the moment.

Part 3?

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galactic-magick · 4 months ago

Text

Rest of My Life: Viktor x Reader

Summary: Reader and Viktor have their wedding and first time together. Takes place right after my last fic Life Changes.

Words: 3.8k

Warnings: SMUT. fem!reader

Author’s Notes: Second half of this fic is smut, it starts and ends at the *** in case anyone only wants to read the first half. Reader is a virgin in this and is implied to be demisexual/somewhere on the ace spectrum, but I don’t think you have to be that necessarily to enjoy the story. I just wanted to write it from that perspective since I’m demisexual myself. I went back and forth a lot deciding if Viktor should be a virgin too, but I was convinced by the “this isn’t my bedroom” line and his freaky moves with Jayce in S2 that he probably has at least some experience. So he’s gonna talk reader through it lmao. Happy reading :)

Your roommates are unsurprisingly still awake when you return home, reading your face instantly.

“What happened?” Eli asks. “Are Viktor and that other guy okay?”

Your shocked expression fades into a smile and you crash on the couch with them, giggling uncontrollably.

“Everyone’s fine. They figured it out, and now Viktor is going to be a partner in the company.”

“Wow.” Chanthou says, eyebrows raised.

“Mhmm. And then he asked me to marry him. Tomorrow.”

A beat of silence.

“What?!” Eli exclaims. “He didn’t tell us he was doing it today!”

Chanthou shrugs, “Well, he did ask for our blessing months ago. He didn’t really say when.”

“He asked you guys for your blessing? That’s so sweet.”

“Of course he did. I would’ve beat his ass if he didn’t.” Eli chuckles. “Sorry, did I even say congratulations?”

“No, but it was implied,” you laugh.

The next twenty-four hours are a whirlwind. As much as you’ve said you don’t mind keeping things simple, your friends insist on treating you at least a little bit, helping you with your hair, makeup, and nails. You pick out something nice to wear, having a blast while they get you ready. You’re going to miss living with them dearly.

If you’re honest, they’re the main reason you haven’t suggested moving in with Viktor sooner. As much as you love him, your friends have been so near and dear to your life for years now. Leaving them—even just to a different apartment a few blocks away—feels like a stab in the chest. Especially with everything moving so fast. You’re about to be the wife of Piltover’s finest scientist, after all.

Yet, there’s no doubt in your mind that this is the right thing—long overdue truthfully. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted. You know he’ll love you how you deserve, and any fear and uncertainty about the future seems quieter when you’re around him. You love everything about him inside and out, and you can’t believe he’ll be yours.

Your roommates have made you look beautiful, enhancing all your best features and using all your best colors. You grin at your reflection.

“I should probably go find my future husband, hmm?”

“I know it’s short notice, but—“

“Of course I will, Viktor!” Jayce hugs him. “I will be the best best man.”

Viktor isn’t used to receiving physical affection from anyone other than you, but he’s not necessarily opposed to it. Jayce is the reason for everything that’s about to happen, everything that Hextech is going to change. Viktor has bonded with him so quickly, it only seemed natural that he would be involved in this big day.

“So um, what is a best man supposed to do?” Jayce asks.

“I’m...not sure.”

“I could write a speech?”

“No,” Viktor shakes his head and smirks. “You’ll talk too long.”

“What else is there to do then? I’ve never been to a wedding before.”

“Hm. Me neither.”

Suddenly Viktor realizes that planning a wedding in the span of a day is not, in fact, easy. He has no idea where he even wants the ceremony, or how to make it official and legal. His whims got the best of him, it seems.

“I could forge some rings?” Jayce suggests.

“Ah, yes. Good idea.” Viktor nods.

Jayce scurries away, and Viktor’s face falls to his hands. Is this too crazy? He knows nothing about weddings, and very little about marriage itself, for that matter. He knows he wants it—that much is clear—but the only example he grew up with was his parents, and they’ve been gone for quite some time.

If only he could get their advice now. They would’ve loved you, he’s sure of it.

He decides the best use of his time at the moment is to get his apartment ready, assuming you’ll want to come home with him tonight. He wants to make everything special for you, wants to make everything perfect.

He stops by some shops on his way back, buying way more than he should safely carry. He then gets to neatening up his space as best he can, covering the bed with fresh blankets and scattering flowers on the floor. He sets up some candles in your favorite scents on the tables and windowsills, nearly lighting them out of habit. He then assesses his work, making adjustments to the set up and gathering anything else he can think of. He’s not the most natural romantic, but he certainly gives his all when it comes to you.

While he’s still at home, he changes into something nicer and smooths out his hair. He doesn’t own a mirror, but it looks fine enough from his vague reflection in the window on his way back out. His only mission now is to find out how to officially marry you.

You and your friends run into Jayce as you’re heading towards the Academy, chuckling a bit as he swiftly hides something behind his back.

“Jayce?” you step up to him, raising your brows. “Have you seen my fiance recently?”

“Everything’s under control!” he blurts out.

“You lost him, didn’t you?”

“No! We just...don’t really know how to do a wedding. Last I saw him he said something about asking Heimerdinger to officiate. We’re going to meet back in the lab, I think.”

“Heimerdinger, huh? And what’s that behind you?”

“Nothing.” he dodges your attempts to look around him. “It’s a surprise!”

“Alright, alright. Can we come with you back to the lab?”

He nods, moving his hands quickly in front of him as he turns around to lead you.

“This is the genius inventor Viktor’s partnering with?” Eli jests.

“Viktor says he’s pretty brilliant.” you laugh.

Viktor manages to successfully recruit Heimerdinger to officiate, after no less than a twenty-minute reprimand of disappointment that Viktor disobeyed him. As proud as he is of Viktor’s achievements, and how impressed he is that Hextech might actually work, he’s still a bit burned that Viktor went behind his back with it. After he gets his frustrations out of his system, though, he’s quite ecstatic that Viktor is marrying you.

It’s not long before you show up with Jayce and your friends, and Viktor practically vaults himself to you on his cane, eyes scanning you adoringly.

“You’re beautiful.” he smiles, kissing your cheek. “Are you ready?”

“Of course I am.” you find comfort in his gaze, heart thundering in your chest.

Heimerdinger climbs on top of a nearby table, glancing at a pad of notes.

“Now, I haven’t done one of these in nearly a hundred years, so forgive me.” Heimerdinger clears his throat. “Viktor, my boy, do you intend to take Y/N as your wife?”

Viktor takes your hands and squeezes them, “I do.”

“And do you promise to love, honor, respect, and be faithful to her until death?”

“I do.”

Heimerdinger asks the same to you, and you feel Jayce and your friends watching you excitedly as you answer. You can’t believe this is really happening. So much has occurred in so little time, and your lives are about to change even more with the new Hextech discoveries.

You get lost in Viktor’s eyes as Heimerdinger has you both repeat a few other things, then can’t help but laugh when he starts fumbling with some papers for both of you to sign. It’s quite funny, watching such a highly respected councilor struggle with something so seemingly simple as a wedding. You and Viktor sign the marriage license as he says, exchange the beautiful customized rings Jayce made, and Heimerdinger pronounces you officially married.

Viktor doesn’t waste a moment pulling you in by the waist and crashing his lips to yours, the intensity catching you off guard. He’s not one for PDA, but you suppose his own wedding is an exception. You drink him in happily, the mini audience cheering in the background.

The celebration continues for a while afterwards, your friends breaking out some champagne and Jayce insisting on dancing. You sit on Viktor’s lap, twirling his hair absentmindedly as you watch the party surrounding you. It’s simple, just like you wanted.

Viktor’s eyes are locked on your features, studying your face as if he hasn’t already memorized it a million times. He wants you in every way possible, forever and ever until his last breath. His mind, heart, and soul are mated with yours, intertwined so intricately now that you are an inseparable part of his being. Never had he imagined he would experience a love like this.

But there’s still one way he hasn’t yet expressed his love for you, out of respect for your fears and slower attractions. You’ve verbalized your sexual anxieties from having no prior experience, and your need to have a strong comfortability and bond with someone before even considering such acts. Viktor’s never had a problem with waiting, and has made it very clear to you that there is no pressure on his part. He’s been open with you about how he had a couple experiences as a teenager before he moved to Piltover, but would gladly never do it again if that’s what you wanted. He married you for you, not your body.

Still, he aches for your touch every second of every day. He savors every kiss pressed against his lips. He’s reveled in every way you’ve allowed him to caress you, and dreams about all the ways you haven’t yet. He wants to kiss every inch of skin he hasn’t seen. Everyday he wants to bury his face where your pants dig into your soft stomach, where your top is cut dangerously close to your breasts, where your thighs rub together. The dress you’re wearing today makes the arousal impossibly worse, the way it hugs and flows around the curves he so desperately wants etched into his brain forever. He has never desired anyone in the universe more than you, and he’d be willing to wait an eternity if it meant he would one day have you every way he’s been wanting.

You’ve told him you’ll likely be ready someday soon, so is it selfish of him to hope today might be the day?

“Vik?” you say, giggling as you wave a hand in front of his face. “Losing yourself in thought already?”

“I suppose so,” he smirks, giving you a quick kiss.

“Ready to go home?”

His eyebrow raises, looking back and forth between you and then your friends who have started some sort of weird drinking game with Jayce. The celebration isn’t quite winding down yet, but it’s common for the newlyweds to leave early, right?

Viktor gently slides you off his lap, grabbing his cane and standing up.

“I’d love to.”

***

He had forgotten about the decorations in his apartment bedroom when you both shuffle through the door, hearing you gasp and clap a hand to your mouth.

“Viktor...this is so beautiful.”

You pick up and drop a few of the flower petals, watching them flutter to the ground. Viktor grabs some matches and starts lighting the candles, and you flop down on the bed, rubbing your limbs against the soft blankets. You inhale the scents, a perfect level of ambiance filling the space.

“Vik?”

“Hmm?” he throws away the used matches, returning to your side.

“Do you want to try it?” you look up at him, nerves starting to take over you.

He kisses your forehead, wrapping a comforting arm around you.

“Only if you’re ready, darling. We don’t have to do anything tonight if you don’t want to.”

“No, no...I’m ready. I want to. I really want to. I’ve felt it for a while now. I just...I’m terrified.”

Your lip quivers slightly, and your eyes roll at yourself. Why are you about to cry on your wedding night? This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life.

Viktor pulls you into him close, rubbing your back, “Talk to me, my love.”

“It’s so stupid...You’ve been so patient with me, you’ve never pushed me to do anything, but I can’t help but feel like I’ve been disappointing you by making you wait so long. And you’ve actually done stuff before, so you know what you’re missing I guess. What if I’m not good at it? What if we try it and it’s awful or you hate my body—or you unintentionally compare me to other people? What if you regret marrying me? Or what if it really hurts-”

“Sweetheart.” Viktor stops you. “Look at me.”

You do as he asks, still trying to hold back tears after your anxious rambling.

“How long have all those horrible thoughts been in your head?”

“Um. A long time…” you look away again, but Viktor takes your chin and turns you back to his gaze.

“Not a single one of those things are true, do you understand?” he holds your face like precious glass. “You are everything to me. Whether we have sex or not.”

“Okay.” you nod, successfully swallowing back a cry. “I...I really do want to.”

“We’ll go slow, alright? And we can stop whenever you want.” he waits for you to nod again, then lies back on the bed, pulling you on top of him. “But right now I just want you to kiss me.”

You smile, happily obliging. You straddle him, leaning down to capture his lips. He squeezes your thighs on either side of him, moaning when you deepen your kisses and run your hands down his chest. It’s so easy for him to lose himself in you, your touches overtaking his senses. He loves when you make out like this, your form pressed on top of him. He had to beg you to not hold back the first time it happened, insisting he likes your weight on him.

Viktor moves his fingers to twiddle with the hem of your dress, wanting so badly to pull it off of you. He’s never seen you fully naked, and he must admit it’s getting harder and harder to be patient when the outline of your figure looks so...majestic.

He guides your grip to his own shirt, helping you pull it off and sliding his fingers into your hair as you kiss down his neck and collarbone. To his surprise, you’ve always shown so much affection to his scrawny frame, never complaining about his sharp limbs when you cuddle or caress each other like this. He’s never understood any of your insecurities about your body, much preferring your soft and fluffy flesh over his own.

Once you’re satisfied with the amount of kisses you’ve pressed all over his torso, you cover his hands at the bottom of your dress with your own.

“You can take it off.” you tell him, taking a deep breath.

He does so, revealing nothing but your bra, his eyes bulging out of their sockets. Never has he ever wanted to see a pair of tits so badly.

It’s not difficult for you to read his mind, and before you can overthink it—you unhook it and throw it to the floor with the rest of your discarded garments.

Viktor doesn’t blush often, but you’ve never seen his cheeks get so red.

“Wow.” is all he can muster.

“You can touch them, if you want.” you chuckle at his reaction.

Permission is all he needed, his hands squeezing both of them, his thumbs brushing your nipples. A loud sigh escapes your lips, and Viktor decides right then and there that he will do anything to hear a glorious sound like that again.

Your body is a wonderfully pleasant array of textures for his hands to explore, from the raised skin of every stretch mark and scar to the dips and creases of your hips and waist. His touches roam across every inch of your exposed skin, cherishing the beauty he swears to never take for granted.

Your bare breasts press against his chest and he whines into your mouth, a pleasant tingling rushing through you at the noise. His lips then travel down your neck and shoulders, whispering “I love yous” between kisses, most coming out as mumbles against your flesh. Your replies follow suit, breathy and stringed with moans.

Somewhere in the process Viktor loses he pants, leaving both of you in nothing but your underwear. You feel his arousal hardening, and your fingers eagerly pull at his waistband.

He stops you, grabbing your wrist.

“Not yet, my love. I want to prepare you properly first.” he kisses your palm. “Let me get on top, okay?”

You nod, adjusting your positions. He places some pillows for your hips and his knees, then runs a couple fingers in one teasing stroke across your clothed entrance.

“Please,” you groan, already missing his touch when his fingers pull away. “Take them off already.”

He chuckles, leaning down to kiss you, “I’m glad you’re excited, darling.”

He obliges your request and takes off your underwear, his fingers quickly returning to your now exposed entrance. He finds your clit, stimulating it with one finger and inserting another slowly.

“Let me know what feels good and what doesn’t, okay?” he says, studying your expressions closely. Even before you say anything, he changes his movements based on your reactions to him.

“It...feels a little weird. But I like it.” you assure him. “Especially when you—“

The stimulation starts to build, and your gasps cut off your own thoughts.

“When you do that.” you finish your sentence, catching your breath as he slows down his fingers.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to help you orgasm your first time, love. But I’ll certainly try.” Viktor continues pulsing a finger in and out of you, rubbing feather-light circles on your clit.

“It’s okay if you don’t.” you hum. “I know it takes some concentration and practice.”

“It’s a learning process—are you ready for a second?”

You nod, and he slowly enters another finger. You’re still super tense from your nerves, but it’s getting easier to relax and let the arousal take over.

“Fuck.” you exhale. “Your fingers feel good.”

A smirks stretches across his lips, and his long digits push farther into you.

“But I want more.” you continue. “I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?” he slips his fingers out, ghostly touches moving up your body. “Oh sweetheart, you’re so perfect.”

You giggle at his distraction, “Yes, Vik, I’m sure. Please.”

He could never say no to such eager eyes and pouting lips, so he slips off his boxers and readjusts himself above you.

“Holy shit, Vik.”

“Second thoughts?”

“No, just...is that really going to fit inside me?” your eyebrows raise and he laughs.

“You can take me, darling. We’ll go very slow, alright?”

You nod, and he lines himself up. He presses the tip in slowly, holding your hands as he goes further. You squeeze them tight, taking deep breaths until he stops halfway in.

“You’re doing so well, my love. How do you feel?”

“Mmm…” you sigh, trying to wrap your senses around the stretching and pressure you’re experiencing. It’s such an odd feeling, but it’s incredibly pleasurable.

“Are you ready for more?”

You nod, and he slowly pushes all the way in. He leans down to kiss you, giving you time to adjust to him. You dig your fingers into his back, closing the distance between your bodies, his cool skin sending shivers down your spine.

“I must admit,” he utters against your lips. “I will likely not last very long.”

Your foreheads press together and you giggle.

“I don’t care, Vik.”

He begins to thrust in and out gently, placing kisses and nibbles along your jaw. The sounds you make drive him crazy, making it extremely difficult for him to have any hope of holding back. The sensations are overwhelming for both of you, a symphony of moans and whines eliciting from your mouths.

You take his face in your hands, staring deep into his gorgeous golden eyes. You capture his lips once again, more passion brewing between you.

“I love you so much.” you say, breathless and full.

“I love you m—fuck, I’m—“ his orgasm washes over him, his movements losing their former smoothness. His cum floods your walls, his dick starting to soften as he pulls out. His nimble fingers return to your cunt, swirling in the juices and stimulating your clit once again.

“Vik, honey, it’s okay if I don’t finish…” your assurances fall on stubborn ears though, his touches quickly building back the pressure.

“Let me try.” he says, determined.

“Vik.” you sit up, legs still wide open around him. “We can try again tomorrow. I promise you’ve satisfied me for the night.”

You intertwine your fingers with his, admiring his flushed face and tousled hair.

“Did I make your first time special enough?” he asks, fiddling with your hands.

“Viktor, it was amazing. I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”

He smiles, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Shall we clean up, then?” he mumbles, pulling back to look at you.

“Perhaps.” you run a hand through his hair. “I did bring the soaps you always compliment the scent of…”

*** -

You use the bathroom and start a bath, filling it with the products you packed and Epsom salt. Viktor’s tub isn’t very big, but you both fit in it when he sits between your thighs. You wipe each other off and wash each other’s hair, occasionally placing kisses on wet skin.

“Can we move in the rest of your things tomorrow?” he asks.

“Probably.” you reply, rinsing the shampoo from his wavy locks. “You sure you’re ready to share your space?”

“Eh...it’s always been far too empty. I need some...flair.” he laughs.

“I can give you that.” you smile, already imagining all the ways you could decorate and bring life to the place.

After drying off and getting ready for bed, Viktor clears off the top blanket then slips under the covers with you, your limbs immediately encircling one another. He massages your back and shoulders, cuddling you close. His arms feel like home, a warmth in your heart spreading throughout your body.

“I love you so much, Viktor.” you say, looking into his eyes. “And not because of what you do for me or how you make me feel…I love you just because you’re you.”

Your fingers trace his jawline, then slither into his hair.

“I’m so lucky.”

His gaze becomes even softer, at a loss for words from the purity of your love. Nothing in any language could properly describe his own sentiments.

“I can’t wait to love you for the rest of my life.” he peppers kisses across your face, living for the way your nose scrunches. “Every.” —another kiss— “Day.”

You giggle, snuggling impossibly closer. He loves feeling your every breath, every twitch, every tiny movement.

He sighs, closing his eyes and silently thanking Janna for whatever winds brought him to you.

#viktor arcane x reader #arcane viktor x reader #arcane x reader #viktor x reader #arcane viktor #viktor arcane

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klausysworld · 4 months ago

Note

Heyy could I please get a birthday story on the 12th of january? Just do what ever you wanna write as long as it as something to do with a birthday of the reader / Y/N

Please and thank you<3

Happy Birthday!!

In The Family

Birthdays were a complicated topic for the Mikaelsons. After living so long time became more and more insignificant and irrelevant to them, especially being vampires where sleep wasn't mandatory. Forever is a long time and yet if time is not real then forever is nothing at all.

For Y/N birthdays were everything. Her family always made a fuss over each other's birthdays, the celebration of the life they'd been blessed with and the ways in which they'd developed them.

However, Y/N knew that her vampire friends were overly fond so she didn't tell them when her birthday was coming up. Not even Rebekah.

She assumed they'd never ask either because it simply did not matter to them which she understood from their points of view and she never pushed the matter.

Y/N did her birthday as usual.

She went out with her friends the weekend before, minus Rebekah, Kol, Elijah and Klaus as she knew they wouldn't get along with her childhood friends as well as she'd maybe hope and so they didn't feel pressured into buying presents or embarrassingly singing happy birthday to her. Y/N got drunk and danced around deep into the night, laughing through the streets as she and her oldest friend stumbled to the hotel they were staying at for the night.

She was supposed to see her parents on her actual birthday, however they rang her all stressed out and upset saying that something important had come up and they'd have to see her the day after.

Y/N was a little upset of course that she wouldn't get to see them like normal but she understood and told them it was just another day and it could wait for a family emergency. They offered to send her gifts over, face time in the day when possible but she told them to wait until the day after and pretend her birthday had not been yet.

Her family were devastated to miss the day, they'd always made such a big deal in the past and so missing it for the first time was strange for everyone.

Y/N thought it wouldn't matter, that she too could pretend her birthday wasn't for another day...but she couldn't, not really; not truly.

Instead she ended up sat quietly on her couch, dressed for a day that wasn't going to start, watching a film she didn't really want to see and eating a microwave meal because she had forgotten to go shopping and to be honest she wasn't so sure she could afford it. Living on her own was difficult enough, especially when her job was so frequently interrupted by Mikaelson family drama; Rebekah always had her on call begging her to come over because something terrible had happened. Once Bex was okay, Y/N would find Kol upset and comfort him, find Elijah silently contemplating which was never a good thing and last but not least she'd find Klaus staring blankly at a half painted canvas, unable to conjure anything else onto the page.

She and Klaus had a complex relationship. They enjoyed each other's company and simply enjoyed each other but Klaus was too cautious of what happened to those her got to close to him and Y/N always feared she was imagining his feelings so brushed it off as much as she could. However, it was no secret that they liked each other, Rebekah teased them both endlessly and hoped they'd finally give in. Kol hoped Y/N would lighten Klaus's grouchy mood, and Elijah wondered if it were even possible for Klaus to love so purely again.

But still, their twisted family dynamic meant that she was the Mikaelson fire distinguisher which messed with her hours at work and therefore her pay.

On top of that, spending money on a hotel the week before and however much alcohol had not helped her cupboards nor her fridge. So her home remained empty and lonely for the majory of the day.

It was late afternoon, early evening when Rebekah messaged. It appeared to be urgent so Y/N rushed to be there for them, Fearing someone could be hurt or worse.

She sped in her car all the way there, probably gaining multiple speeding tickets which would catch her up in a weeks time. Her hands quickly pushed the doors open, her feet clumsily carrying her inside, her voice strained as she called out for Rebekah, then Klaus when she got no answer. A flood of worry filled her as she hurried up the stairs, checking each room but finding no one before going back down and bursting through the dining room swinging doors.

Her breathing was a state, her hair stuck to her forehead as she fell silent and froze. Each Mikaelson stood behind their place at the table, smiling as innocently as they could at her.

The table was covered in candles and flowers, a pile of presents in the centre. Her expression relaxed slightly and then softened, her eyes starting to sting as tears built up that they'd do something like this for her.

"You didn't think we'd forget did you?" Rebekah asked with a laugh, leaving her post and coming over in front of Y/N who was wiping her eyes.

"I never even told you, how...how did you know?" She sniffed and Rebekah smiled. "Nik found out." She whispered, as if the rest of the people in the room didn't have sonic hearing. Y/N's eyes drifted up to Klaus gratefully and he smiled back, his hands clenching slightly as he held onto the back of his chair.

"We thought we'd let you have the day with your family before making you come over." Rebekah grinned, grabbing her hand and pulling her to sit at the head of the table. "How was it with your family? Who came? Parents? Aunts and Uncles? Oh cousins- oh..." Rebekah shut up when Kol kicked the back of her leg, her eyes focusing on Y/N who was fighting tears.

"I'm sorry." She sniffled, her face red as Klaus too moved from his place and rubbed the side of her arm comfortingly. "My family couldn't come is all, it's not a big deal I just haven't ever done it alone before." She whispered and they each softened.

"You aren't alone anymore, love." Klaus murmured softly, kissing the side of her head and pulling her seat back for her to sit before tucking her back in.

"Yeah, don't worry darling, we're practically family anyways so you aren't really missing out." Kol shrugged, filling her wine glass making her laugh a little.

"I do hope we didn't worry you too much with the ominous text message, dear. I did tell Rebekah it was too harsh." Elijah apologised, frowning to himself but Y/N wiped her eyes again and shook her head with a smile.

"It's alright Elijah, it made for a really lovely surprise." She told him earnestly and his features relaxed as he nodded faintly.

Dinner started coming out only a moment later, all of Y/N's favourite foods as a picky eater loaded onto each of their plates and placed in front of them making Y/N blush pink and smile wide at their antics.

"See? This is my kind of dinner, good choice darling." Kol licked his lips, lifting a slice of pizza and letting it droop onto his mouth making Klaus roll her eyes and Y/N giggle.

As they ate, Y/N's eyes drifted round the room; seeing the extent of their effort as she looked at the dozens of balloons that had floated up. Then her gaze flicked to each Mikaelson. Kol was eating like a caveman, Rebekah was mixing her ketchup and mayonnaise like a child, Elijah was delicately cutting into his chicken nugget and Klaus...Klaus was looking back at her.

A small silence lingered over them, even as the others spoke between them. Y/N was brought back into it when Rebekah started telling a funny story about Elijah from centuries before, effectively embarrassing the usually stoic original and pulling a genuine laugh from Klaus.

They told Y/N about the faint memories they had of birthdays from when they were human, children especially and how they would spoil their little brother Henrik.

"In a way, you're our younger sister now. Much, much younger, you know...a thousand years give or take but still." Kol said with his mouth full. The sentiment there but his humour everpresent.

"Perhaps a sister to us however I do doubt she and Klaus would ever consider the other a sibling." Elijah commented and everyone's heads turned to him, not expecting the comment from Elijah's lips.

Rebakah started laughing first, then Kol which encouraged them all to fall into a cycle of giggles.

Klaus and Y/N flew past the teasings and continued with the evening. Eating icecream and chatting away before the cake was brought out.

It was a beautiful cake, almost magically so.

Y/N could feel her cheeks burn red and her smile go so wide it hurt when they sang happy birthday to her and clapped as she blew out the candles, telling her to make a wish. She made eye contact with Klaus as she did and Rebekah snickered.

An hour or so later Elijah began to pack things away, Kola and Rebekah suddenly disappeared and Klaus refused to let Y/N tidy up her own party so he took her upstairs.

They walked the stairs leisurely as if it were obvious something were waiting up there. Y/N wasn't sure what but she definitely hadn't expected his art room to be a romantically lit space. Music playing softly in the back ground as he stood before her and held out his hand for a dance.

He spun her to his chest, his hand in hers and the other on her waist keeping her close as they swayed against each other. His eyes stayed on hers, daring her to look away as he dipped her.

Barely a second went before both of them leaned into a kiss. Y/N's hand left his to hold onto his neck as he clutched her hips, holding her up to him as their lips moulded together perfectly.

Klaus pulled back, listening to her panting softly for lost air as he rest his forehead against hers and loosened his grip on her slightly. "You're family" He whispered, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "Your birthday is important and I promise we'll never, ever miss it."

"Thank you, Klaus. For everything today." She muttered quietly, almost shyly and he smiled, kissing her cheek just beside her lips.

"You're welcome, love. Happy birthday."

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heartsforvin · 4 months ago

Note

could you write an imagine where vin gets readers dad's permission to marry her + include a proposal? i feel like that'd be so cute to read!

from 🤎 anon

BLESSINGS

this is soooo cute thank you so much for the request !!

pairing: vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings: cussing, use of pet names, if i missed anything lmk !!!

summary: vinnie gets your fathers blessing to marry you, since he dreams of spending the rest of his life with you

authors note: trying to clear out my inbox from months worth of requests 🥲

you and vinnie had been dating for five years when he finally decided he truly did want you in his life forever. he had spent the last few months planning out everything from how to get your fathers permission, all the way from where and how he was going to ask you.

once he had it to a T, he planned out how your day was going to go. vinnie had texted one of your friends, telling her the plan on how he was going to propose to you today.

he asked if she could take you out to get your nails done, but to not make it looks suspicious, moralize the two of you were just going to have a normal girls day.

once you had finally left the house, vinnie took minute to recollect himself, gain the strength and courage to go over to your parents place and ask that big question to your father.

stepping out of his car, vinnie walked up to the front door of your parents place and rang the doorbell, awaiting for an answer.

after a few seconds the door opens and your mother appears. "vinnie, what a surprise," the woman greets the blonde with a smile and hug. "what are you doing here?" she asks.

vinnie clears his throat, stuffing his hands in his sweatshirt pockets. "is mr. y/ln home?" vinnie asks.

your mother nods, opening the door wider for vinnie to step inside. once inside, your mom directs vinnie to where your dad is, he thanks her before heading into the living room.

when your dad notices vinnie he stands up from the couch and shakes his hand. "hey vinnie, what brings you here?" he asks.

vinnie smiles softly before speaking. "i wanted to talk to you, o-or more so ask you something." the blonde stutters out.

the older man nods, vinnie can see the confusion laced with a bit of fear on his face, wondering what he's about to say.

both men take a seat across from each other and your dad nod for vinnie to continue.

the blonde can't help but feel the anxiety rise, suddenly freezing up as he tries to ask the most important want question to your father.

"i um," vinnie clears his throat and chuckles softly. "i wanted to ask for your blessing to marry y/n." he finally gets out.

the older man looks at your boyfriend for a minute, but then a small smile appears, making vinnie's nerves calm.

"you want to marry my daughter?" your father asks, making sure he heard correctly.

vinnie nods. "yes, i- i do, i love her very much, maybe even more than myself or even life itself. i want to give her the best life, the life she deserves. you've known me for the last five years, and i have no doubt that if you didn't like me or anything like that, that you would've given me the boot years ago. so yes, i do want to marry your daughter, to be apart of her life forever, because honestly, i can't see my world without your daughter in it."

vinnie watches the man's expression change, seeing a smile appear on his face. "i know you're a good man, vinnie,” your dad reassures. “y/n loves you very much, i can tell from the way she’d always come home from a date of yours and had the biggest smile. so this is me giving you my blessing to marry her, make her the happiest woman in the world.”

vinnie smiled widely, not really believing the words he’s hearing right now, but loving it. he shakes the man’s hand and thanks him, staying for a bit longer to gather ideas on how he wants to propose to you.

he wants to make it special, to make it memorable to both of you. on his way home, all he thought about was his idea on how he was going to ask the big question.

✧∘* ೃ ⋆｡˚.

days have passed now and vinnie has come up with the perfect way to ask you to marry him. he had told you to get your nails done, you thought it was a bit suspicious since it wa so out of the blue, but you went along with it anyways.

it was almost sunset, the perfect time for this. vinnie was getting the last finishing touches set up. he was planning on having you meet him at the place he took you for your second date.

the date that really sealed the deal for you both.

once everything was set up an done, vinnie waited anxiously for your text. the place in question was on top of a hill vinnie had taken you to, saying it was perfect to watch the sunset.

you finally texted him saying you wee here and vinnie walked down to meet you.

vinnie smiles when he sees you. "hey, you." he says as he pulls you into a hug.

you kiss the side of his head, smiling at him as you pull way. "another spontaneous date?" you ask with a small chuckle.

vinnie tries to play it off and laughs along with you.he takes your hand and takes you up the hill.

"close your eyes, its a surprise." vinnie says, watching you close your eyes.

once up on the hill, vinnie smiled as he told you to open your eyes. once you did, a wide smile spread across your face.

"vin," you whisper as you look up at him. "what's all this for?" you ask.

vinnie smiles, placing his hands on your hips, holding you close to him. "wanted to surprise you." he ays.

he takes your hand and walks with you to the picnic blanket that laid just in the right spot to get perfect view of the sunset.

you can't help but keep smiling feeling immensely happy. vinnie takes your hands in his and looks at you.

the sun was eating as he looked at you, now was the perfect time to say what he wanted.

"you mean the world to me, do you know that?" vinnie asks, making you smile softly as you nod.

he smiles, getting down on one knee, which makes you gasp. "i want to spend the rest of my life with you, raise kids, grow old, all of it." he starts.

you don't know how to feel in the moment, emotions heightened as you listen to vinnie speak. "i love you so much, sweetheart. everything about you amazes me everyday. i can't imagine a life without you, so would you do me the honor of being my wife?"

your eyes start welling with tears, not believing what's actually happening. you nod, smile wide across your face as you tell him yes.

"I'll marry you, vinnie," you whisper a you lean into hug him. "i love you so much."

vinnie let go and kisses you softly. "can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you." he whispers against your lips.

you smile, hugging him tightly. the rest of the night was spent with laughter and love. you can't wait to spend the rest of your life with him either.

first fic of 2025 !!!!! this has been in my drafts since august so it’s been in here a bit 😭 i hope you all liked it either way !!!

tags: @anqeliclust , @deansbeer , @nativegirltapes , @khackerr , @slvthrs , @bernelflo , @laylasbunbunny , @jpg3 , @khxna , @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom , @lovingsturniolo , @louloulemons-blog , @visualbutterflysworld , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @miilzzy , @hallecarey1 , @kriissy4gov , @skye-44 , @leqonsluv3r , @defnotayonna , @kayleighh , @supabhad , @sturnioloshacker , @submattenthusiast

#vhackerr #vincent hacker #vvhacker #vinniehacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinniehackerfanfic #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie hacker #vinnie x reader #vhacker #vinnie hacker headcanon #vinnie x y/n

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zaldritzosrose · 4 months ago

Text

Rampion (Sihtric x Rapunzel!Reader)

Summary: Locked in a tower for years, having been coveted for your blessed beauty by the witch Skade. Never knowing the outside world, never knowing where you had come from. The walls of your tower were the only place you knew. Until your stranger, the unexpected hero, saved you and stole you away.

CW: MINORS DNI (it may be fluff, but it's my blog my rules), afab reader, she/her pronouns (referring to Skade), only reader description is of hair long enough to scale the tower, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of imprisonment, Skade being a deplorable human, mentions of thievery (Sihtric, naughty naughty), allusions to smut, mentions of magic and prophecy, references to Norse deities and practices.

Words: 4684

My darling girl, sunshine of my day @thenameswinter99 I am so sorry it took me so long to finish this. But I hope it's everything you wanted it to be. Maybe I'll even treat you to a part two, but I won't make you wait months this time!

The offering your mother made before you were born was supposed to be a blessing. Asking the goddess Freyja to bless you with grace and beauty to one day secure a safe and prosperous match that would benefit the kingdom.

It had done anything but.

You had grown up to be more beautiful than your mother could have ever dreamed. Men from all corners of Dane controlled land came to plead for your hand. Making promise after promise.

But men were not the only ones who coveted you. A witch named Skade, a woman hated and feared in equal measure by your people. She wanted your blessing, the favour the Freyja had showered on you before your birth. She wanted that for herself. In any way she could.

News of your beauty had travelled through clan after clan, some daring to say you were the most beautiful.

Skade could not risk losing you to some Dane earl or the like. Her only option? To take you for herself.

And she did.

You hadn’t seen the outside of the stone tower for as long as you could remember. You knew this hadn’t always been your life, but the memories were hazy. Like looking back at them through fog.

Skade had made you reliant solely on her. Never leaving the confines of the stone around you. The only way you saw the outside was through the large window, high enough to see through the trees and to the expanse of green land and small villages in the distance.

Maybe one of them was your real home? Maybe one of them held people who missed you? Or maybe Skade was right, the world was too dangerous for someone so blessed as you. That you were safer locked away than out and free.

You spent your time on numerous hobbies. Painting, sewing, reading, anything you could turn your hand to. Skade would always return to you with something new for you to do, be it paints, charcoals or books. You were never short of a distraction.

The tower was simple, a single room filled with everything you needed. A soft bed with numerous furs to keep you warm, a gift from Skade. Strewn around the room were the remnants of your hobbies. The most notable, however, was the vanity across from your bed.

Your pride and joy, over all your hobbies and creations, was your hair. The long braid that at times you would hang from the window of the tower. Skade had gained a habit of tugging gently on the end to alert you to her presence. The impressive braid scaled down the entire tower, thick enough to allow Skade to climb it without causing you any pain.

But you were desperate for more.

Anything that wasn’t the walls of stone, Skade’s voice that would at times irritate you. But you had nothing else. Where would you go if you could escape?

Sihtric was content. Life in Coccham was easy. The town thrived enough; Uhtred ruled fairly as its lord. He had always been an adventurer, a traveller. He enjoyed his home in Coccham, but he found it hard to remain in one place for long.

But there was a past time Sihtric kept well secret from even his friends. Since he was a child, he had a penchant for theft. Blending into these surroundings, becoming someone else. And gaining all he coveted as a result; be it jewels or women.

There were times he would disappear for days, even weeks on end. Always returning home, with a tale a numerous ‘gifts’ for his friends. None of them questioned it. They likely knew. They knew him well enough by now. But they also knew he would never stop. It was something ingrained within him. It was who Sihtric was.

Warrior. Dane. Thief.

It had been months since he had left Coccham. Nothing quite interesting enough to draw him away from his creature comforts, from his friends.

Until he heard of some travelling merchants, over the waters from France. Merchants always brought things of interest. Trinkets to steal. Women to seduce at times. He had stolen from French merchants before, their wares always varied and beautiful.

He listened out for word of their movements. When they neared Coccham, he prepared himself to leave. Slipping out as night fell so as not to raise more suspicion than necessary. People always noticed, but no one ever confronted him on it. His bag was packed simply. No more than his smaller weapons, food and changes of clothing.

His horse had been saddled the night before, a clue to his plans to anyone who paid attention. When the town was covered in darkness, he left, not planning to stop until he was at least a day’s ride from the merchant’s camp. It would give him time enough to plan his next move. And of course, to see what was worth stealing.

The ride was quick, which worked in Sihtric’s favour. He made his camp and waited. A day passed and he was more than ready.

And to his luck, the carts soon crossed the horizon. It was normal for merchants to make a night’s camp before entering a city or town, and these were no different. He watched them, counting the carts, counting the chests he knew would be filled with all kinds of treasures and trinkets.

Sihtric waited until dark, it was rare for merchants to guard their wares. Whether it was pride or naivety he did not know. But it always worked to his benefit. Once he could see each of them were asleep, he made his move. Practiced movements allowing him to enter their camp safely.

In his youth, he would have tried to take more than he could carry, risking detection in his greed. Now, he knew where the most precious items would be kept. Usually the chests with the most intricate locks and protection. But he was more than capable of breaking into such things.

Practice made perfect after all.

He was quick to pick the lock, hearing trained both on the sleeping merchants around him and the clicks needed for the lock to open. Slowly, he opened the chest and made quick work of searching for the most valuable of items.

Soon, he was satisfied. Returning the chest to closed and leaving the lock as if it had never been opened. The perfect ruse.

As quiet as he entered, he exited the camp with his finds.

Sihtric made sure to store his new stolen treasures away securely, wrapping anything he could in his spare clothing and hiding them deep in his pack. He was in no rush to return home, finding the solitude more relaxing than he ever had. He chose a longer route back to Coccham, a natural trail that led his through a wide expanse of forest.

He was entirely daydreaming, leading his horse with his eyes trained on the dirt path below him. It was only the sound of distant singing that drew him from his reverie.

His steps fell still, listening intently for the direction the singing came from. It was one of the sweetest voices he had ever heard. Curiosity and apprehension gnawed at his gut, his free hand clutching his hammer pendant while his other gripped his steed’s reigns tight.

It was not long before the singing grew louder, but it did not come from where he expected. A stone tower nestled deep in the forest was entirely unexpected. And it was from within the singing came. His eyes drifted upwards, assuming he was following a thick branch or vine. But when it didn’t rustle or sway in a passing breeze, realised then it was a thick braid of hair.

The tower was a good few feet of the ground, making the braid longer than he had ever seen. And at the end he saw Freyja’s symbol nestled within the cord that held it all together.

“What in the world…?” Sihtric mused to himself, settling himself a fair distance away at the trunk of a tree.

His horse was tied nearby, and he began to simply listen. He recognised some of the songs, tales of the same gods he knew and worshipped. He was entirely enraptured. The voice would drift in and out, filling his ears and mind with nothing but calm.

Darkness soon fell, but he made no effort to leave. Sihtric could do nothing but wonder who was singing, why they were locked away in such a secluded tower. His question was almost answered when he heard a voice he vaguely recognised.

“Sweet girl!” Skade called, tugging at the end of the braid.

Sihtric watched with curiosity as the witch waited for a face to appear in the window. Even from here, he could see that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. And he had seen many.

What surprised him more, was when Skade climbed the tower with the help of the braid. He wondered if it hurt, but it seemed something well practiced between you and the witch. He remained watching as Skade disappeared through the window, realising then there was no door to the tower.

Hours passed and he did not see you again. Sleep soon found him, and he slept dreaming of nothing but your voice.

Skade did not leave you that morning, choosing instead to watch as you painted. It was a rare occurrence for her to remain, but you did not balk at the company.

The pair of you sat in silence, Skade mixing some herbs together though you dared not ask what for. You had learned your place with her quickly. There was something both young and old about the witch, she had never once revealed her true age to you. You were not friends; at times you were barely acquaintances.

You knew she wanted something from you, the tower being one of the many ways she kept you close. But you never knew what exactly she wanted you for. It was another question that went unanswered whenever you asked it.

But there was something you would occasionally dare to ask.

“Will you ever take me with you when you leave?” You asked, setting down your brushes and turning to look at Skade.

The look you got in return made your blood run cold.

“Do I not provide everything you need? Why would you wish to leave, you know it is not safe for one such as you!” Skade snapped, the pestle grinding hard against the mortar beneath it.

You jumped a little at the tone, but you were determined.

“Tell me why you keep me here then! What about me needs protecting so much?”

But she didn’t answer. Choosing instead to entirely ignore you. You knew better than to press the issue, returning to your painting in silence.

Your mind wandered while you painted. Trying to think of any possible reason a witch like Skade would have to keep you. She never asked for anything from you, in words anyway. Only that you remained in the tower.

No matter how hard you thought, nothing came to mind.

The sun was what had woken Sihtric. He’d half expected to wake up and realise he’d dreamed the singing, the tower, the witch and the girl with the braid.

But there it was. Clear as day.

Grey stone, covered in leaves and winding vines. The window that you had been singing from empty now. But curiosity still nestled itself in his stomach. Sihtric had time, no one would be expecting him back in Coccham any time soon, none that knew him well anyway.

His treasures were safely hidden, but they weren’t the prizes he was concerned about right now.

You. His mystery in the tower. You were his new prize.

He kept half of his attention on the tower and the other half on the forest around him. Hunting and gathering some supplies to tide him over for a day or so. Enough to keep him going until he caught a glimpse of you again.

Sihtric wasn’t quite sure how many hours had passed. Enough for the air to cool just a touch, for the sun to be lower through the trees.

But not long enough for your reappearance at the window, it seemed.

He returned to his spot, secluded behind a thicket of bushes and rocks. Enough to hide him and his horse. He only had to hope the witch wasn’t the one to pass his hiding place.

There was too much risk in lighting a fire, so he satisfied himself with the berries he had picked and the remnants of the food he had brought with him from Coccham. And the bottle of ale he had swiped from the sleeping merchant.

All he needed to do now, was wait.

The sun was dipping behind the window, not enough light now to paint by. But enough to read. Skade was preparing to leave again, though as usual she never told you why. Not that you wanted to ask.

You were still upset, partly because she refused to ever answer a question. Though something else was eating at you, that you couldn’t place.

What was curious this time, however, was that Skade had more than her small pouch around her hips.

“I will not be back tonight, sweet girl. I must go to the closest village, and it’s more than an evening’s walk away.” Skade said, answering the question that had not yet come from your lips.

You nodded, back to her again as you chose from one of your many piles of books. And silently you walked to the window, slinging your braid over the sill for Skade to climb down.

And then she was gone.

You remained in the window. Though your hair was now looped around your feet, your book resting on your knees. The world around you was a distant thought as you lost yourself in your book.

Until you heard a whistle.

Below you, close by but you couldn’t see anyone. And Skade would never whistle to get your attention.

So, you ignored it, returning to your story and thinking nothing more of it. Maybe it was just a bird or the wind. Until it happened again, louder and closer.

This time, you set down your book and took your time looking around the forest below.

It certainly was not a bird or the wind. There was a man, a Dane based on his clothing, at the foot of your tower. And from the axe on his back, he was a warrior too.

You almost froze in panic. Was this what Skade had warned you about? Was this the danger she had hammered into your mind?

No, if he wanted to hurt you, he would not have whistled for your attention.

Your silence prompted him to whistle again, and then you saw him pointing. Pointing to the tip of your braid that hung over the sill.

Had he seen Skade climb in and out? How long had this stranger been watching you?

Sihtric had taken a chance. He didn’t know why you were hidden away in a tower. But nothing about you seemed dangerous.

So, he took his chance. Whistling until you looked at him. Gesturing for you to let down your braid.

He could only hope you would do so.

You had none of the instincts a normal human would have. You had never known danger, aside from the stories Skade would terrify you with.

But your stranger didn’t look dangerous, ignoring his weapon.

Slowly, you unravelled the braid at your feet. Throwing it down as you would for Skade. A small smile on your lips as the stranger stepped back before it hit him.

And when he began to climb, you winced a little at the weight difference. But he scaled the wall of the tower quick enough, easing the weight by resting his feet on branches and vines.

Soon, he was at the sill. Smoothly dropping himself into the tower and turning to look at you.

“Thank you, lady,” he said with a small smile.

You stood from the window, pulling your braid back in and wrapping it so it didn’t trail across the floor. The few pins stuck in your sleeve were just strong enough to hold it together.

The two of you stared at each other, neither wanting to be the next one to speak.

After what felt like an eternity, you couldn’t hold back your curiosity any longer.

“What is your name?” you asked, wandering over to your bed and sitting down.

Your stranger didn’t move, but your question earned you a smile.

“Sihtric, lady.”

It was your turn to smile.

“I am no lady, Sihtric.”

In truth, you didn’t know much about yourself. Other than what Skade would tell you. Which seemed to be becoming a frustrating occurrence.

Sihtric chuckled softly, running a hand over his face. But you offered him your name before he could speak.

And all Sihtric could think of, was how beautiful a name it was.

Hours passed; the sun had entirely dipped below the horizon in the time Sihtric had spent in your tower. And only then did he remember the witch.

“Is she not due to return? I should…”

He was already making for the window when you grabbed his arm.

“She’s not back for a few days. She’s gone to a nearby village for supplies.” You said quickly, pulling him back just a little.

Sihtric looked back at you. He couldn’t leave you here. Thief or not, at his heart he was a good man. And no good man would abandon someone like you.

He turned to you completely. Shifting so he had both your forearms in his hands.

“Do you want to stay here?” he asked, giving your arms the gentlest of squeezes.

That made you think. Skade was, when you thought on it, keeping you prisoner. She refused to tell you anything about where you came from or who she really was.

Something had always felt wrong. There was one thing to be protective, but the way Skade treated you it was like you were something to own, to covet. Barely the person you were.

“I…I do not know. I have never been anywhere else…”

Sihtric’s eyes were filled with nothing but sympathy. How long had the witch had you here?

“Never? Have you ever left the tower?” Sihtric asked, his thumbs now rubbing soothing circles on your arms as he saw panic and pain in your eyes.

“Never, Skade…she won’t let me.”

His jaw hardened. He had known he recognised the witch. Hated by Danes and Saxons alike. He’d heard rumours of a lost princess. Taken from a Dane village years ago when she was nothing but a child.

Was this her? Were you the lost princess?”

“Do you know where you come from?”

You only shook your head, tears already brimming in your eyes. And Sihtric didn’t hesitate, wrapping his arms around you and holding you to his chest. Only then did you cry. Truly cry.

He could only wonder if anyone had ever held you?

Sihtric let you cry. His hand firm on your back and slowly rubbing up and down to soothe you.

Eventually, the tears let up and when you finally looked up at Sihtric, he looked nothing but determined.

“Then we’ll find out. Get whatever we can carry between us, I’ll make a rope so we can climb down.”

He gave you no time to answer, pulling whatever he could find from your bed to wrap together into a rope. In that time, you took your most precious book, some parchment and charcoals and the pins and brushes to braid your hair.

For practicality, you found another dress and bundled everything you wanted inside.

Nerves chewed at your stomach as you waited for Sihtric. This was happening. It wasn’t a tale from one of your books where the prince saves the princess.

But it was happening to you. You were finally leaving the tower after more years than you could possibly count.

Sihtric looped the rope around the thickest vine by the window.

“Are you ready, princess?”

The climb down the tower both felt like an eternity and less than a second all at the same time. Sihtric took most of the weight, climbing down first whilst you climbed down afterwards.

He waited for you at the bottom, your things over his back and his hand out to help you down. Sihtric knew leaving the rope was dangerous, but he wanted you as far away from that tower as possible.

His horse, thankfully, had remained where he’d left her. As was his pack and other things. The benefits of a secluded forest it seems.

When everything was packed on to the horse, including you, Sihtric prepared to leave.

“Where will we go? Skade will find us…”

Sihtric sighed, taking both your arms and wrapping them around his waist.

“She will have to go through me if she does,” he said simply, squeezing your hand before urging the horse to move.

Sihtric had every intention of eventually returning to Coccham. Explaining why he had returned with you would be a challenge, but Uhtred and the others were good men.

But he knew he couldn’t expect you to ride that long with no rest.

He knew there was a township nearby, mostly Dane controlled. And it was the opposite direction he had seen Skade leave in the day before. He could only hope you both would be safe enough there.

The gates of the town came into view eventually, the singular guard waving him through.

Sihtric rode until he came to an inn he had stayed at a handful of times as he passed through, sometimes alone and sometimes with his friends.

His horse was stabled, and he used a small trinket from his haul from the merchants to pay for a room. Somehow, he had a feeling you were not going to want to stay anywhere alone.

“Are we…will be safe here?” you asked, the moment you and Sihtric entered the room.

Sihtric put his pack and yours on to the bed, passing you to begin lighting the fire.

“Safe enough. The town I live in, where my lord and my friends live, is not all that far from here.”

The fire lit quickly, and you immediately gravitated towards the warmth. Sihtric took that time to just look at you. The way your braid had begun to come loose, the Freyja pendant hanging from the cord that was now wrapped in the middle of it. The way your dress seemed homemade, maybe you had even sewn it yourself.

“Your lord?” you asked, holding your hands out in front of the flames.

Sihtric realised that you really knew of nothing that happened outside the walls of that tower. He grabbed a fur from the bed, laying it out before the fire and sitting himself down. Holding out a hand for you to join him.

“Yes. My lord is Uhtred, currently in Coccham. Do you know where that is?”

Again, you shook your head.

Sihtric cocked his head in confusion. How could you not know? Not necessarily about Uhtred, but Coccham was a well enough known place.

Skade truly had kept you in the dark about everything.

“That’s alright, we’ll be there soon, and you can meet him.”

You smiled. How could a stranger, a man you had known barely a day, make you feel so comfortable. Not only had he saved you. He was going out of his way to look after you.

You settled beside him, the space between you small to remain on the fur. The silence was comfortable, simply basking in the warmth of the fire.

But Sihtric could see you were tired. He didn’t know what made him do it, but he pulled you closer. Laying himself down and taking you with him. Your head on his chest and his arm around your waist.

And when you did not move, curling into him instead, he could only smile.

Sihtric made sure he was careful with you, gentle even. His hand stroking up and down your back. But as you got more comfortable, you moved to unpin your braid. The intricate style tumbling down your back, some loose waves tickling the skin of his arm.

Suddenly, everything he felt simply felt…more.

And he realised you were much the same. Your hand on his chest now gripping his shirt just a little tighter. Your face nuzzling more under the curve of his jaw.

He could smell the flowers that you had weaved into your hair. Your nose was filled with the smell of leather and sweat on his skin.

“Sihtric?” you said softly, your lips grazing his neck as he spoke.

He tilted his head down to look at you, only to see you looking straight up at him.

Without hesitation he pressed his lips to yours and though you froze in surprise initially, you soon reciprocated. The hand on his chest now tugging at his shirt, his arm around your waist pulling you almost on top of him.

But he didn’t want you to feel like he was expecting too much from you. He rolled you both to the side, one arm under you and holding you close. His lips never leaving yours.

Your hands found his chest, holding his shirt and seeming like you wanted to close any space that remained between you both. Sihtric’s hand on your waist trailed down, hooking your thigh over his hip.

He could feel your hesitation, and quickly broke the kiss. Staring directly into your eyes.

“We won’t do more than kiss, my princess, if that’s what you want?”

You pressed your lips to his.

“I just want you. You saved me, and I did not know I needed saving.”

Sihtric smiled, pressing his lips to yours. And then to the corner of your lips and then to the line of your jaw.

And the sigh that slipped from was more than enough to keep him going.

“I will save you time and time again, my princess, if that makes you happy.”

He had never felt like this. So entranced by a person, especially one he didn’t truly know. But he felt like he did know you. Almost like he had known you his whole life.

That was enough to make him pull back from his kisses. He could see the small flicker of disappointment, but he pressed a kiss to your forehead and pulled you into his chest.

His face pressed into your hair and he heard you sigh again, your arm wrapping around his waist as you relaxed in his arms.

You were his princess now. Nothing, not even a witch, would take you away from him.

The tower came into view as Skade passed the forest’s threshold. The supplies were heavy in her pack, but that was not what her mind was focused on.

She saw it immediately, the twist of the makeshift rope standing out against the old stone of the tower.

A shriek of rage left her, loud enough to make the birds in forest flee in fear.

You were gone.

But you couldn’t have possibly managed that alone? The rope was strong, knotted in ways only travellers and warriors would do.

Someone had helped you.

Her hand gripped the rope, eyes fluttering closed. She could see you, clear as you always were.

But then she saw him. A Dane, the hammer pendant hanging from his neck and the axe on his back were clue enough. Something about him felt familiar, but the vision of him was too foggy for her to entirely pinpoint him.

What she could feel, however, was you. The bind that tied you both together was strong, Skade had cultivated it over the years she had kept you locked away.

Whoever had you, wherever he had taken you…she would find you.

No matter what it took.

Sihtric/TLK taglist:

@legitalicat @foxyanon @thenameswinter99 @multyfangirl

@sihtricsafin @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @alexagirlie @gemini-mama

(If you want to be added/deleted, let me know)

#sihtric kjartansson #sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson x reader #sihtric fluff #sihtric kjartansson fluff #x reader fluff #fairytale au

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dreamcubed · 1 year ago

Text

the archer | lorenzo berkshire x reader

song; the archer [taylor swift] pairing; lorenzo berkshire x fem!non-slytherin!reader genre; s2l, comedy, fluff word count; 5,8k timeline; half-blood prince warnings; swearing, alcohol, drunkenness, suggestive comments, blood and injury (bc of his cat) summary; lorenzo's cat hates everybody but you

masterlist

"who could ever leave me, darling? but who could stay?"

——————————————

Lorenzo Berkshire had no idea why his cat was such a hateful being, but she had always been that way, ever since she was a kitten. He would have understood if she had been a rescue from the streets or something, but, alas, she wasn't. She had always been feisty, and only docile with him, which was why his aunt (who owned the mother) had just sent her his way. Not that he minded, he often joked how his cat, who he had fondly named Midnight, was just like him: very selective with who he let close to him.

He had brought her with him to Hogwarts, naturally, and she had secluded herself exclusively within his dorm room— she hated being at the castle, but he knew that she would hate being at home without him even more. And, when he had graduated into sixth year, he had been blessed with his own dorm room, allowing her to finally settle down.

Only, the current problem was that she was missing. Lorenzo had returned from Saturday breakfast in hopes of a bit of downtime with his feline friend, but he instead found a frown forming on his face as he frantically searched his entire bedroom and then down the corridors and all the other Slytherin dormitories. She was definitely gone, he realised, beginning to feel an itching sense of worry as he loved that cat more than anything. Why would she have left? Did the privacy of a solitary bedroom meant she finally felt comfortable enough to explore the rest of the castle? He didn't know, and it didn't matter, he just knew that he had to find her.

"Have you seen Midnight?" he asked, hurrying up to Mattheo in the common room.

"No."

"She's missing."

"She's a cat, she's probably just wandering," his friend shrugged, "They do that, y'know."

"Not Midnight," he ran his hand through his hair, "Never Midnight."

Mattheo observed his friend carefully, "Relax, mate, she'll come back."

"I can't relax," he cursed under his breath, "I'm going to look for her."

What if she attacked someone who tried to pet her? Dumbledore might ban Midnight from the castle and send her home. Or, even worse, she would get put down. He couldn't bear that thought, but after searching all the rooms down in the dungeons, he quickly realised that he had no idea where to look from there.

***

Meanwhile, you had been enjoying a perfectly pleasant afternoon in the courtyard with a book, the last rays of Summer shining down on you before the chilliness of Autumn struck. You went to turn the page, when you noticed a commotion going on across the expanse of flagstones. With furrowed eyebrows, you let curiosity get the better of you and shut your book.

Upon arriving at the scene, you quickly realised that the centre of attention was a pitch-black cat who was hissing ferociously. Some second year boys were tormenting the poor thing who was clearly terrified— reaching their hands out to get a reaction, and then pulling away before it could swipe them with its claws.

"What are you doing?" you asked disapprovingly, normally willing to let younger years have their mischievous fun, but not at the expense of a poor innocent animal.

"It attacked Gareth out of nowhere," one of the boys gestured towards his friend, who was nursing a bleeding arm, "We're just getting our revenge."

You shook your head, "I can't allow that, I'm afraid, it's obviously terrified."

Crouching down, you placed your book on the floor and delicately held a hand out a safe distance from the cat. You made cooing noises to attract it over, hoping that it wouldn't see you as a threat.

"I wouldn't do that," the boy who had been scratched said, "A seventh year girl tried already, and now she's in the hospital wing."

"I'm not scared of a little blood," you replied, before saying to the cat, "I'm not gonna hurt you, baby, I'll get you away from these scary boys, yeah?"

Maybe it sensed your gentle nature, or maybe you simply seemed like the lesser evil next to the boys, but it ceased its hissing and started cautiously padding towards you. Eventually, its soft face rubbed against your palm, and you began soft pets until you could feel purring.

"There we are, you're safe," you murmured, delicately positioning yourself to pick it up, hoping it wouldn't freak out too much. Thankfully, it didn't, and settled into one of your arms as you picked up your book and stood up. "Your owner is probably looking for you."

A soft mewl came in response. You decided that it would be easier for the owner to find their cat if you stayed in the same place, so you returned to your reading spot and sat the cat down on your lap. It curled up instantly, closing its eyes as it entered a light slumber, while you reopened your book and continued where you left off.

***

Rumours spread like wildfire within the walls of Hogwarts, so it wasn't long before Lorenzo heard that a girl had been attacked so badly by a cat that she had ended up in the hospital wing. He immediately sprinted in that direction, ignoring scoldings from teachers and prefects, until he burst into the polished white room.

"Whatever do you think you're doing, young man?" Madam Pomfrey snapped.

"The girl. Cat attack," he panted out, "Where is she?"

The nurse pointed towards the end bed of the ward, "Just there— although I must ask you to-"

Lorenzo didn't listen to the rest of her words, running over to the girl's bed. She had a bandage on her cheek and right arm, and she didn't seem all that pleased.

"What colour was the cat?" he asked quickly.

The girl frowned, "I'm guessing that beast is yours then."

He nodded.

She rolled her eyes, "Black. You ought to get it put down."

Lorenzo let out a sound that bordered on a growl.

"It scratched me so deep it hit an important artery. There was blood everywhere— my favourite shirt is ruined."

"I don't care," he bit off, "Where did it happen?"

She scowled at him, "The courtyard. Go deal with it before someone else gets hurt."

He didn't even give her a response before he was running off again, praying to all the Hogwarts founders that Midnight was still in the courtyard and completely unharmed.

***

Approximately twenty minutes had passed by with the adorable feline curled up in your lap when the sound of a door bursting open echoed throughout the courtyard. You watched as an angry Lorenzo Berkshire, a Slytherin boy in your year, made a beeline towards the group of second year boys that were still gathered. He must have seen the blood on one of the boys' arms, because he went to him first. You observed curiously as Berkshire spoke angrily, and then the evidently now scared boy pointed in your direction.

Berkshire looked over, and then his eyes locked on to yours. He was storming over to you with a fury that could destroy nations.

You raised an eyebrow at him, "Can I help you?"

He didn't reply, the anger not leaving his face, but he seemed to be contemplating something.

"Hello? Berkshire?"

"That can't be her," you heard him mutter. At the sound of his voice, the cat perked up, and instantly meowed at him. "It is you," he said disbelievingly.

"Your cat, I presume?"

"Uh, yeah," he said, holding out his hand to beckon it over.

"What's its name?" you realised that this was the first conversation that you were having with the boy despite sharing classes for over five years.

"Midnight," he said, his voice sounding oddly strained, "She's called Midnight."

You smiled, scratching her neck in a way that made her mewl. "It's very fitting."

Lorenzo stared at you interacting with his cat, having never before seen Midnight so friendly with anyone except him. "She hates people," he said without thinking.

You hummed, "Yeah, I heard about the girl in the hospital wing."

He grimaced.

"She's quite sweet with me though."

"I've never seen her like that with anyone but me."

"Guess I'm special," you beamed, continuing to stroke Midnight.

"Uh, can I have her back now?" he asked, seeming almost unsure of himself. While Lorenzo was generally considered one of the nicer Slytherin boys, he still held himself with a terrifying confidence, and didn't have a completely scot-free track record either— refer to his behaviour when it comes to his cat going missing. However, now, stood before you as said cat had elected you as the second likeable person she had met, the confidence had been knocked out of him.

"Oh, of course," you said easily, picking Midnight up and handing her over. "Bye, cutie," you cooed, as the black cat reluctantly accepted her fate in Lorenzo's arms.

"Thanks," he said stiffly, turning on his heel and walking away. You couldn't help but watch his behaviour with an air of amusement.

***

"Fuckin' Azkaban," Lorenzo cursed, so loudly that Mattheo popped his head through the door.

"What are you shouting about?"

"Midnight's missing. Again."

Mattheo chuckled, "Maybe that girl who took a liking to your cat took her."

Lorenzo looked at him disbelievingly, "I highly doubt that. L/N isn't the type to sneak into another house."

With a shrug, his friend fully entered the room. "I'd say maybe don't freak out as much this time. We lost a lot of points for you being a dick to that girl in the hospital."

Lorenzo scowled, "You're one to talk. You've lost ten times as many points as me."

"Do you want to go look for her? It's almost curfew."

"I have to. Can't have another hospital case."

"Put a tracking charm on her when you find her."

Lorenzo agreed that it was a good idea.

***

Whenever there was a cacophony of meows coming from outside a common room door, it was customary to open it. Often times a cat would be returning to its owner, and it wouldn't do to leave it stranded out there. Today was no exception.

You were, as usual, curled up on a sofa doing some homework when you heard faint meows from the other side. Perking your head up, you watched as the boy nearest to the door went to open it, letting in a black cat. It didn't seem like anything strange: you knew a couple black cats who belonged to your house members. Only, they were sweet and friendly, and you watched as the cat tried to scratch the poor boy. Thankfully, he dodged it, and you quickly ran over as you suspected whose cat it might be.

Immediately, it meowed softly at you and went to rub against your legs— and that's when you knew that it was definitely Midnight.

"Get your cat under control," the boy said.

"Oh, she's not mi-" but he had already walked away.

With a sigh, you picked up the feline and moved back to the sofa, knowing that it was just past curfew so you couldn't return her right at that second. Unless she elected to leave herself, she would have to stay with you for the night. Not that you were complaining, but you could only imagine how worried Lorenzo must be. Those thoughts quickly slipped away, however, when she curled up in your lap and began purring.

***

Walking down the darkened corridor with nothing but his wand as light, Lorenzo found his feet leading in one particular direction. He had already checked the Great Hall, and the kitchens, and peeked out the window into the courtyard, but to no avail. Only one more idea of where she might have wandered off to lingered in his mind: he knew what house you were in, and that was where he was headed. He just hoped to Salazar that he wouldn't run into a professor.

"Mr Berkshire."

Fuck.

"Yes, professor?" he said slowly, turning around to face Professor Snape.

"It's past curfew."

"I know, professor."

"How disappointing to see one of my own Slytherins disregarding the rules of Hogwarts."

"It's my cat," he said, hoping Snape would show some amount of heart, "She's missing."

Snape quirked an eyebrow, "Cats are prone to wandering. This is hardly a cause for concern."

"Yes, but not Midnight."

"Regardless of the nature of your cat, do you really think you will find her considering the size of this castle?"

Lorenzo said nothing.

"I understand she was responsible for the attack the other day. However, that is hardly a risk as it is night time, when students should be in bed," he drawled the last part, his arms firmly crossed.

"Yes, professor."

"Five points from Slytherin." Lorenzo knew the punishment would have been harsher if he wasn't of the house he was.

"I know where she is, though."

"How is she considered missing, then?"

Lorenzo didn't have an answer for that.

"If you know where she is, you will have no trouble finding her in the morning. I will escort you back to the dungeons."

The boy let out a sigh.

***

Having not slept a wink that night, Lorenzo was up bright and early just after sunrise, ready to resume his journey to your house. He walked up to where he had heard that the door was— having never seen it in person— and thought about how he was going to enter. To his luck, it swung open, to reveal a prefect from your house. She immediately gave him a sceptical look.

"What do you want, Berkshire?"

"I need to see L/N."

"At this hour?" she sighed.

"She has my cat. I think."

"The black one?"

He nodded.

"Okay, fine— you can go in," she said, stepping out the way, "But don't tell anyone I let you in."

"Of course, thank you."

Mattheo had always told him that she was one of the softer prefects, having had a lot of experience with them on his late night antics.

He entered the common room to find that it was empty, and he didn't waste anytime heading up the girls' dormitory stairs. Thankfully, the layout was quite simple: each year had their own floor, and it went upwards chronologically. The first few floors had rooms that were shared, but when he reached the sixth floor, he found a number of doors that seemed to align with the number of sixth year girls in your house.

Only, which one was yours? He couldn't very well walk in on an unsuspecting sleeping girl: Salazar knows how she would react.

So, he decided to knock on the first door, waiting patiently as he heard a groggy, "What?" in response. He felt a little bad for waking someone up, but Midnight was more important to him than anything.

"Uh, which room is L/N's?"

"Berkshire?" the voice replied. He was surprised at how calm she seemed to be taking the news that a Slytherin boy had invaded the girls' dormitories.

"Uh, yes."

"Last room on the left. Your cat is fine."

He concluded that you must be friends with her, and informed her that the cat you were in possession of belonged to him.

"Thank you," he said, adding a, "Sorry for waking you," to which he heard no response.

Choosing to leave her be, he made his way to your room and once again knocked. Only, this time, he didn't get a response. He knocked again, and he still received no human response, but he did hear a familiar meow sound out. Praying that you would forgive him, he opened the door and peeked in carefully, to see that you were curled up within your pillows with Midnight lying down beside your head.

He entered the room fully and quietly closed the door behind him. His cat meowed again, louder this time, which caused you to stir in your sleep. When your eyes finally peeled open and caught sight of Lorenzo through your blurry vision, you jumped out of bed.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you whisper-yelled.

"My cat," he said simply.

"Is perfectly safe and healthy as you can see— that's no reason to break into girls' dormitories!"

Once again, Lorenzo found himself speechless. All you were wearing was a skimpy pair of shorts and a cropped top which had your nipples peeking through. Not much was left to the imagination.

"Berkshire! What if I'd been naked?"

That's when a smirk crept on to his face, as he felt his usual level of confidence oozing through his veins. "What if, hm?"

"Keep it in your pants," you grumbled, grabbing a jumper from the floor and pulling it over your head. You tried to ignore the way his gaze made you feel.

He shrugged, changing the subject, "I had to make sure Midnight was safe."

"Well, you clearly knew where she was."

He couldn't argue that point, causing an awkward silence to fall upon the room. Awkward until he involuntarily let out a yawn.

"That's what you get for being up so early," you mumbled, climbing back into your bed and under the sheets. Midnight immediately began cosying up to you.

"I couldn't sleep."

You regarded him carefully: it was strange to see a Slytherin boy so evidently worried about another living being.

"Here she is, then," you said, gesturing towards the feline, "Take her and go sleep before people see you were here."

"Embarrassed of me?" he chuckled, moving to pick up Midnight.

"I'd rather not get called a slut," you snapped.

He didn't reply to that comment, wrapping his hands around his cat who did not take kindly to the action: not that she tried to scratch him or anything, but she immediately wriggled out of his arms to return to you.

"Midnight, you're my cat, you can't stay here," he grumbled, trying to pick her up again. You watched the scene play out through half-shut eyes, feeling quite amused by the whole ordeal.

Once again, she escaped his grasp.

"This is unbelievable."

"What? Unbelievable that she likes me so much?" you chuckled sleepily.

Lorenzo scowled, "I'm not leaving until she comes with me."

You sighed, realising that you may not be able to escape any slut rumours at this rate. "Fine. But I'm going back to sleep."

Lorenzo watched as your breathing became slower and more laboured, unable to process the absurdity of the situation that he was in. However, he could process how peaceful and adorable you looked while sleeping, all while his furry feline cuddled up next to you with deep purrs. Eventually, he felt his lack of sleep catch up to him, his body finally allowing itself to relax now that he knew Midnight was definitely safe and sound. He sat down on your bed, reaching his hand out to stroke his cat. She mewled at the action, making him feel relieved that she hadn't started to hate him all of a sudden.

"Am I not enough for you, hm?" he murmured softly, sitting up against the headboard. His head began to lull back as he felt sleep overcome him.

***

You woke up properly at around nine o'clock, safe in the knowledge that you didn't have a lesson until eleven that day. With a soft yawn and a stretch of your limbs, you only remembered the events of earlier when you rolled over to see a sleeping Lorenzo slouched against your headboard, and Midnight sprawled across his lap.

Merlin, your usually mundane and repetitive life had really taken a turn. Unfortunately, despite the insanity of everything he had done, you didn't have the heart to wake him. You couldn't help but think that you would have done the same if Midnight was your cat. Plus, Lorenzo was very physically attractive— you knew that, everyone knew that. Yet, it was your bed that he was asleep on.

Sighing, you sat up, reaching over to scratch Midnight's head affectionally, causing her to wake up and start stretching. The action made Lorenzo stir in his sleep, and once his cat let out a soft mewl, he finally woke up fully. Immediately, you quirked an eyebrow at him, and he looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"Comfortable?"

He grumbled, "No."

You chuckled softly, "Your friends will be wondering where you are."

The proximity between the two of you was quite close: you were sat cross-legged with a mere inch between your limbs. It didn't feel strange, though, in fact it felt quite natural.

"Anyway," you tried to ignore the closeness, "As much as this has been fun, you can't come in here every time Midnight does."

"Why not?"

"I told you earlier. I don't need people making assumptions about me."

His eyes met yours, and you felt your stomach flip. "What if we made the assumptions true?"

You froze, then relaxed, "You don't mean that."

He shrugged.

***

Despite your hopes and dreams, people saw Lorenzo Berkshire leaving your dormitory, and the rumours spread throughout Hogwarts at a rapid speed. And, of course, as he was one of the Slytherin boys who were notorious for sleeping around— albeit less so than the others— you had been dubbed as his next conquest. It was a nuisance, but you weren't insecure, and knew that it would pass before long.

"If you didn't fuck, why was he in your dorm?" Iris, your friend from another house, asked. You were sat at a table in the library together, doing homework. Well, you were doing homework, Iris was borderline interrogating you instead.

"I had his cat," you replied simply.

"You stole his cat?"

You rolled your eyes, "No, Iris, his cat came to me."

"Isn't his cat the really vicious one who hates everyone?"

You hummed absent-mindedly, running your finger down the contents page of a book you were using for your essay.

"Why did it go to you then?"

"She likes me," you murmured, finding the page that you wanted and turning to it.

"That doesn't explain why he was in your dorm so long though."

"No, it doesn't."

Iris huffed, clearly irritated that you were giving her little to no information. You loved her dearly, but she was a bit of a gossip. Suddenly, she gasped. "Are you courting?"

"Who even uses that word anymore?" you scrunched up your nose, "And, no, we're not." Although, you couldn't help but think back to his suggestive comments.

"I don't believe you."

"Believe what you want to believe."

"You're no fun," she pouted.

"Meow."

You looked down to your side in surprise, to see that the familiar black feline was stood by your chair with her tail raised indignantly. "Speak of the devil," you muttered, leaning down to pick her up.

"Midnight!" you heard a yell as the library doors swung upon. You watched as Lorenzo was quickly shushed by the librarian. He apologised to her whilst scanning the room, soon spotting you with his cat sat on your lap. He hurried over.

"You need to stop freaking out whenever she goes wandering," you chastised when he was within a few feet of your table.

He scoffed, "You try not to freak out when you have an incredibly hostile cat who could be banned from Hogwarts."

"I think I do, in a way," you raised Midnight up into the air above you, examining her carefully.

"She's still my cat."

"Relax," you said, "I was just joking."

He glared at you, but there was no real threat in it.

"At least this means you get to see me so much," you grinned cheekily, making him shake his head with a sigh.

"How unfortunate for me."

"Wow, that hurts, Lorenzo." Since when did you feel like you could call him by his first name?"

"Well, Y/N, sorry for not enjoying running like a madman after my little terror."

"Then start thinking of it as running like a madman straight towards me."

He seemed surprised at that comment, and went silent for a few moments. These few moments were when Iris decided to cut in, having been observing silently until then.

"Seems like flirting to me."

You scowled at her.

"I'm just saying, would it not make sense to date the one other person who your cat likes?" she said this more towards Lorenzo than you.

He stared blankly at your friend, a finger on his right hand twitching ever so slightly. You didn't know what to make of that reaction, but decided that you wanted to learn more about what Lorenzo's body language said.

"Can I have my cat back?" he finally spoke.

"Can I please just keep her for a little bit?" you pleaded, "I can't have a cat because my mum's allergic."

Lorenzo surveyed you carefully: your half-hearted attempt at puppy dog eyes and the way Midnight nuzzled her head into your chest. He felt a pang of jealousy: strange and twisting. Weirdly, he didn't think he felt that envious of his cat's affections for you, so he didn't know why he felt jealous. A flashback of the skimpy pyjamas you had been wearing the other night crossed through his mind.

Shit.

"Yeah, uh, sure," he said all too quickly, "Only an hour though."

You hadn't expected him to agree so easily. Nonetheless, you beamed, and said, "Thank you, Enzo."

Enzo. He only let his friends use that nickname. Scratch that: he generally only tolerated when his friends used that nickname. But from you, it sounded sweet, and soft. He knew that he was a more civil and selfless person than the rest of the Slytherin boys, but he doubted many people would go as far as to say his name with such gentleness.

Gulping, he turned and walked away without another word.

***

A little over an hour later, you found Lorenzo in the Great Hall with his friends. They appeared to be enjoying a late lunch, as the tables were sparsely populated and only a few dishes remained. Just the sight of food made your stomach grumble, so you made your way over to him with Midnight curled up in your arms.

"Hello," you smiled, standing next to Lorenzo.

"Hi," he replied, before cooing at his cat who mewled happily.

Your stomach grumbled again, louder this time, and you shrugged sheepishly. "Haven't eaten yet."

"Then eat," Mattheo Riddle said from across the table, gesturing to the food.

You handed the cat over to her owner, and questioned, "Here?" You had never sat at the Slytherin table before.

Riddle shrugged, "Why not?"

You couldn't argue with that, and took a seat beside Lorenzo, dishing food on to your plate in a hurry.

"Where's Arachwood?" Enzo asked, referring to Iris.

"Got distracted by the boy she likes."

"Who does she like?" Riddle asked, clearly a lover of gossip and rumours— much like Iris.

You quirked an eyebrow, "Why should I divulge my friend's secrets?"

"She doesn't seem to have much regard for yours," Lorenzo piped in.

"Yeah, she does run her mouth a bit, but she's my friend," you scooped a large mouthful on to your fork, "I just take care not to tell her my most personal secrets." You then finally allowed yourself to taste the mouth-watering nourishment.

"So? Who does she like?" Riddle asked.

You stared at him incredulously as your mouth was full.

"I think the bigger question is who does L/N like," Theodore Nott added, smirking as he watched the eyes of you and Enzo widen.

Swallowing your food, you turned the topic back to Iris, "She likes Boot."

"Terry Boot?" Riddle clarified, and you nodded.

"I'm only saying that because she makes no effort to keep it private."

"But what about you?" Nott pushed again.

You paused, as in truth, you hadn't really fancied anyone for a while— that was, until, you remembered how gorgeous Lorenzo had looked sleeping on your bed. You felt your face burn.

"No one," you murmured, but your tone was anything but believable. You scooped more food into your mouth so you couldn't answer any further questions, but none were asked.

"We're having a party tonight," Riddle said, "You should come."

You were unable to reply as you chewed.

"It's really just Slytherins," he continued, "But we're all allowed a plus one. You can be Enzo's."

Cautiously, you looked at Lorenzo to gauge his reaction to that suggestion, but he didn't seem to have one as he mindlessly stroked Midnight.

"Yeah, if you want," he said, clearing his throat.

Finally, you swallowed, "That sounds fun. Should I bring alcohol?"

"I would recommend it," Riddle replied.

You were a mix of nervous and excited.

***

When you arrived at the Slytherin dungeons that evening, you were greeted by two fourth years at the door who seemed to be taking the job of security guard very seriously.

"Name?" one of them asked.

"Y/N L/N."

"And who are you here with?"

"Lorenzo Berkshire."

One of them wandered off into the party as the other turned to you, "We just have to validate this. Standard procedure."

You suppressed a giggle.

Not too long later, the other fourth year returned with Lorenzo by his side. With a nod to his friend, you were beckoned in and went over to Enzo.

"Very formal," you finally let out the giggle as the two of you began walking into the main party.

He shrugged, "Riddle insists on it. Salazar knows why."

You gazed around the Slytherin common room, taking in the green and black decor that you had never had the chance to lay eyes on before. There was music playing quite loudly, but you hadn't been able to hear it from outside— likely thanks to a sound-proofing charm.

"Have you started drinking yet?" he asked you.

"I had one while I was getting ready, you?"

"I've had a couple," he shrugged, stopping in his tracks for a few moments to properly look at you, "You look very pretty."

A blush crept on to your cheeks, "Thank you."

You could have sworn a small smirk graced his lips.

"L/N! You made it," the booming voice of Riddle thundered from nearby, and you turned to see him approaching with a bottle in his hand.

"Yeah," you chuckled, "Don't know how I'm gonna make it back without getting caught though."

"Just stay in Enzo's room," he said, clearly already too drunk to think over his words.

Before you could respond to his statement, he had spotted someone else and hurried over to them.

"You can if you want," Lorenzo said quietly, "I've crashed your room before."

You chuckled at the strangely fond memory, "Scared the shit out of me."

He grimaced, "Sorry about that."

"It's okay, just give me a little more warning next time."

"Next time?" he repeated, a suggestive lilt to his tone.

"Where's Midnight?" you changed the subject.

"Up in my room, probably."

You hummed, "Right, I need to get more alcohol in me." And with that comment, you wandered off, not wanting Lorenzo to feel like you were following him around like a lost puppy— despite how much you had realised you wanted to be around him. It was a strange realisation: it was the first time a crush had snuck up on you rather than you more or less picking someone you found attractive to fancy.

And with that thought lingering, you poured yourself a shot, downed it, and then made a mixed drink to join the party with.

***

The increasing amount of alcohol danced through your bloodstream as the night went on and you found yourself dancing with some Slytherin girls, and having a full blown debate with a Ravenclaw guy who was there with his Slytherin girlfriend. You were having a lot of fun, but you found your drunken self wanting to go search for Lorenzo. So, you did just that, scanning the large room for any sight of him. Finally, your eyes locked on to the familiar tuft of brown hair sat on a sofa, with his friends all sat around him.

You walked over, somewhat clumsily, and immediately beamed widely, "Hi, Enzo," you said.

His gaze flicked to you and a small smile crept on to his face, "How are you doing?"

"I missed you," you said without thinking, sitting down next to him and bringing your legs up on to the sofa to curl into his side. His arm was spread out, resting behind you on the back of the settee.

"Did you?" he chuckled, taking a sip of his drink, which he held in his other hand.

You nodded, "Did you miss me? Wait, don't answer that."

His lips stretched into a full grin, "I might have missed you."

You narrowed your eyes at him, "Don't play with my feelings, Berkshire. I know you're not as much of a player as the others, but I'm still suspicious."

"Never," he said, leaning closer to you so he could say in a husky quiet voice, "Call me Berkshire."

You raised an eyebrow, "Don't think I won't leave if you show signs of leading me on." How had this turned into a full blown confession? Wasn't it a bit premature for that?

"Who could ever leave me, darling?" The alcohol had clearly inflated his already radiant confidence.

"But who could stay?" you whispered in his ear, before stumbling to your feet, only to feel his hand grasp around your wrist. You turned back, to see that he was looking at you with his mouth folded in a thin line.

"You could," he eventually muttered, "Midnight would miss you too much."

"Just Midnight?" you teased, finding that your drunkenness was filling you with reckless abandon.

He sighed, "I would, too."

You grinned, sitting back down next to him.

"Do you want to go to Hogsmeade next weekend?" he asked.

"I thought you'd never ask."

And, when you woke up the next morning cuddled up with Lorenzo and Midnight in his bed, you smiled despite your pounding headache— and slight urge to throw up. Scratch that: huge urge to throw up. But when you stumbled to the bathroom, waking up Lorenzo in the process, he followed you and held back your hair, talking you through it.

It was peculiar, really, how everything was still so new, but you didn't feel the least bit embarrassed about him seeing you in such an ugly state.

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masterlist

written; 26/04/2024 —> 09/05/2024 published; 12/05/2024 edited; —/—/——

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