#But I simply couldn't resist drawing this and getting it up as soon as possible— it's a literal me post!!! 💙🏳️‍⚧️✨

[stardestroyer81]

It all makes sense now. 🧡🤍🩷

two sheep. standing still

[astraystayyh]

when you're feeling sad, changbin will do anything (being silly) to cheer you up!! fluff and comfort.

this was so fun to write, binnie is so iconic i wanna be his friend so bad. hope you'll enjoy <3 this won't make sense if u don't have some binnie references tho

"Baby, I'm home!" Changbin's voice echoes loudly through your apartment as soon as he opens the door. You bury your face in your pillow, turning around in your bed so he'd think you were asleep.

It's not that you didn't want your boyfriend to see you. But the day has been overwhelming, small mishaps piling up on you. And as trivial as it sounds, your last straw was not finding your favorite cereal in the cupboard.

You couldn't possibly tell him that you broke down crying for cereals.

Changbin comes into your room, tiptoeing to your side of the bed when he notices your seemingly sleeping figure. He stares at you fondly for a while, before leaning down to kiss your cheek. He frowns to himself, before repeating the action once, then twice.

So he wasn't dreaming- your skin is wet. He skims a finger tentatively down your cheek, and sure enough, he can feel the tears drying slowly on it.

"Baby," he calls out gently, and when you don't respond, he says it again, his tone a bit more urgent. "Baby!"

You open one eye to look at him, "what?"

"Were you crying?"

"No." your response is curt and Changbin stares at you pointedly. You huff, because he can read you like an open book. "Yes."

That's all it takes for him to slide into the bed next to you, placing his back against the headboard. He then easily manages to pull you over his lap- he's strong, and you are too tired to resist him.

"What's wrong?" he asks and you look up to the ceiling, avoiding his penetrating gaze.

"Nothing."

"Okay," he simply responds, grabbing strands of your hair in his hands. You watch silently as he braids them, or atleast attempt to, eyebrows furrowed in the utmost concentration.

"What are you doing?"

"Welcome to Changbin Salon," he grins, his voice suddenly high-pitched. You can't help the giggle that leaves your mouth at the absurdity of his words.

"Changbin Salon, you say? What other services do you offer?" you tease and he drops your hair, holding your hands instead.

"We can bring you food."

"Like what?" you smile a bit and he smirks mischievously at you.

"Chili chili crab crab."

"Not again," you whine, hiding your face in his broad chest. It took you three weeks to convince Changbin to not sing it anymore. And two additional weeks to get that silly song out of your mind.

"Say the truth. You just want an excuse to lay on my chest," he coos, hitting your back with his fists like a kitten.

"Binnie, you are insufferable," you laugh loudly, and his eyes soften at you. His teasing smile morphs into a genuine one, and you know that he's being this way just to cheer you up.

"Why were you crying?" he asks again, drawing soothing circles across your palm.

"Today was stressful, nothing seemed to work my way. And then, I got home and I was craving cereals. And there were no more cereals, so I started crying."

"So you were planning on sleeping hungry?! As if Seo Changbin isn't your boyfriend?!"

He's fully outraged as he picks you up, and your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, his warm hands holding your thighs with ease.

"But now we can eat together," you grin, bopping your nose with his and he nods, "what's my pretty baby craving?"

"You know, I think I really want to have that chili crab."

"Let's order it then," he smiles at you as he walks to the living room, "Should I do it singing?"

"Please," you giggle and he places a tender kiss on your forehead.

"Anything you want."

[alexusonfire]

omg can I request a luciferxreader where lucifer gets very jealous and possessive? maybe a demon is like aggressively coming onto reader but is unaware that reader x lucifer is a thing ? xoxo

Claimed in the Gardens

Lucifer Morningstar x fem!human!Reader

A/n: Nothing I love more than a good ol' possesive streak 🥰 Smut, semi-public sex. Reader receiving. They/Them pronouns for Lucifer.

You weren't entirely sure how you'd ended up in this situation; one minute you were simply roaming the Dead Gardens of the castle, the next you'd been nearly cornered by a leering demon. You'd caught his eye from afar, and, according to him, he simply could not resist. Dangerous words you knew... for him, anyways.

Lucifer had managed to keep you a well-hidden secret, always worried of the dangers that a realm like theirs possesed for a mortal like you. It wasn't often they let you go wandering on your own outside of the castle walls, and certainly never outside of the castle grounds, even with them, but you'd figured the Gardens would be safe enough for some fresh air.

Unfortunately for the gray-colored being that was currently pitching his most foul of compliments, it appeared you had been wrong.

"Now now, dear Benzel, we musn't touch what isn't ours."

He blabbered on with what he thought was suave and seductive banter, blissfully unaware of the towering figure watching quietly from behind. You could see Lucifer's face growing tighter with every remark made towards you about "all the fun the two of you could have"; the real mistake on his part however, was when he reached out for you and took hold of your wrist.

The words were ground out between Lucifer's teeth, barely containing the rage that filled them. The demon's eyes looked as though they'd pop out of his skull any moment, instant fear washing over his face as the dark shadow of Lucifer suddenly shrouded you. You'd never seen someone move so quickly, he who was only inches from you moments ago now on his knees begging for forgiveness.

When it came to you, it was never rewarded.

"No one gets to touch you but me, little lamb."

In a moment he was gone, reduced to a pile of smouldering ashes caught in a breeze. You couldn't help the small smile that graced your features at what was left of the grotesque being; if there was only ever one good thing you could say about Lucifer, it was that they would always keep you safe.

Meaning to thank them properly, your gaze met theirs, and what you found in their eyes made your stomach coil; possessive, wanting, hungry.

Your heart began beating wildly, anticipation building in your chest as they moved closer to you, their hand sliding to your lower back to pull you to them.

"Yes my love... only you."

They smirked at your agreement and instantly claimed your mouth with theirs, needy and warm. You loved when they craved you like this, little room for gentility and time, only wanting to have you as soon as possible. You clutched at their shoulders, their tongue so soft against yours that you found yourself entirely too distracted to notice you were still in semi-plain view of the world, not caring when their hand slid into the waistband of your trousers.

"Lucifer... please..."

They obliged you, cupping you through your underthings before sliding them to the side, moaning at how you already coated their fingers.

"All this for me, sweet one?"

A whine escaped your lips, your hips starting to move in tandem with their demanding strokes.

"Yes... yes always for you, all yours..."

They chuckled, then slid two fingers into you, pumping them in and out while drawing small circles on your clit with their thumb. They worked your body like a finely tuned instrument, one that only they could play so beautifully. The clenching of your inner walls around them signaled you were close, and with a particularly powerful thrust they lowered their head and growled in your ear;

"Mine."

With that you came undone, your shrill of ecstasy surely heard by any close by. Lucifer held you close as you came down, chuffed at having claimed you as their own once more. As you caught your breath they gently picked you up and carried you back inside, leaning down slightly to gently nuzzle their nose to your cheek.

"All mine."

[genshinarchives]

Arataki Itto / gender-neutral reader.

Synopsis: Itto finds you awake outside as you're unable to sleep, and makes a promise to you.

— ( Takes place during the Sakoku Decree and before the Vision Hunt Decree. )

Itto was stirred awake when his body finally registered the lack of warmth by his side. Eyelids fluttering open, he groggily turned his head, expecting to see you curled up next to him on the futon only to be greeted by an empty space. It took him a few seconds to fully wake up and realise that you were missing; when the thought properly sunk in his mind, he kicked the thick blanket off him before leaping onto his feet with a panicked look.

"(Y/n)!" he called, rushing out of the small house the two of you shared barefoot. He didn't bother putting anything on to cover his upper body, allowing the chilly night air to nip his exposed skin. As he ignored the cold enveloping him, he searched the areas nearby and soon found you sitting on the edge of the cliff that overlooked the expanse of the sea separating Inazuma from the rest of Teyvat. Breathing an audible sigh of relief, the oni padded over to you and then dropped a hand on top of your head, drawing your attention away from the view that had kept you occupied.

"There you are, my kachimushi," he said, grinning, "Why aren't you sleeping?"

You met his eyes with a sheepish smile. "I can't sleep."

"You told me that last time too. Are you having trouble sleeping these days?" he asked, removing his hand from your head to plop himself down on the grass beside you. You nodded, eyes drifting back to the waves lapping up against the rocks on the shore as you pulled your knees against your chest.

"I think my insomnia kicked in around a week ago. I don't know why," you replied in a murmur.

Itto scratched the back of his head as he tried to think of a reason why your insomnia returned. He recalled the events that happened a week ago, filtering out the minor ones that couldn't have possibly affected your sleeping schedule this much - which left the Sakoku Decree that was recently instituted. "Is it because of the Sakoku Decree?"

Your body suddenly stiffened. "I-I guess so... It's never left my mind ever since the Raiden Shogun announced that she'll be closing Inazuma's borders... We're essentially trapped in this country."

"Is staying in Inazuma for the rest of your life such a bad thing?" Itto asked innocently, cocking his head to one side with a genuinely puzzled look, "I mean, you were born here. This is your home."

You were silent as you allowed his words to sink in. Itto is simple-minded, so of course he's not seeing the bigger picture - but maybe it's not a bad thing after all. You've immersed yourself in the political side of things that it was beginning to stress you out, even though it's not your job to worry about Inazuma's politics.

A small smile crawled over your lips.

"You're right. This is my home because you're here," you said, turning your head to him with a chuckle. The oni puffed his chest out.

"If you're worried about getting lonely, well, don't be! You've got me and the boys- Oh, and Shinobu too." Leaning in, he bumped his nose against yours affectionately. "If the Sakoku Decree ever gets lifted in the future, I'll take you to Liyue. I heard there's plenty of tasty food to try out, and Shinobu can even be our very own tour guide!"

"That sounds fun," you remarked, laughing airily, "Promise?"

Itto slightly tilted his head to the side and pecked your lips to wordlessly seal his promise of bringing you to Liyue some day. "I promise. Now that you're no longer feeling gloomy, let's sleep~"

Before you could say or do anything, he easily scooped you into his arms as he stood up, and carried you home princess style. You didn't resist him and simply enjoyed the warmth emanating from his body, with your head resting against his bare chest. Once the two of you were inside, he didn't hesitate to squeeze you in his arms as he tackled you on the futon, taking advantage of his weight to pin you down. You let out a yelp, having not expected this rough handling from him.

"Hey- Itto!" you protested, squirming futilely in his tight embrace.

"Do you feel like sleeping yet? I won't let you go until you feel like sleeping with me," he said, pouting at you like a child.

"Gaaah- Okay, okay! I'll sleep!" you managed to wheeze out, "Now get off me, you big oaf! You're crushing my lungs!"

With a loud laugh, Itto finally rolled off you but kept his arms around your torso, his face burying itself in the crook of your neck. You let out a muted sigh and twisted your body around to face him, tucking his head under your chin in the process. As you wound your arms around the oni, you heard him mumble a quiet "aishiteru" before his snores followed. Chuckling at how easily he falls asleep, you then kissed the top his head, being mindful of his red horns.

"I love you too, Itto," you whispered, soon joining him in your dreams.

Taglist: @coco-goat-milk / @m3gitsune / @melkxsh / @irethepotato / @frostines-blog / @xphantasmagoriax / @crunchy-princeles / @nanamisflowerfield / @dulcetamore / @beowers-spam / @sinnyrants / @chuusposts / @xiao-bedo / ​ @chocogi / @angelkazusstuff /

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Packed Bags | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends! This is hella angsty- enjoy :)

Send me your comments, suggestions, and/ or requests!

Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @glxwingrxse @psychoticmason @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy @lonewolf471 💘

Warning: anxiety, PTSD

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

Bucky unlocked the front door of your shared apartment and pushed it open, feeling a slight resistance as the door swung open. As he made his way inside, he saw the thing he'd always feared: your packed bags. The sight of your large suitcase and backpack ripped his heart from his chest with sharp, jagged nails. The void left in his soul was quickly filled with panic and shame, leaving him with a sense of hopelessness he'd never experienced.

He had always known deep down that, one day, you'd get fed up with all of his guilt and self hatred and PTSD- he just hadn't realized it would happen this soon. He wondered how long you'd been planning to leave him and what the last straw had been for you. He wracked his brain for what he could've done to push you out the door, but he simply couldn't decide on one thing. He was always dealing with something, whether it was night terrors or anxiety or an inability to share how he felt- 'any one of those things', he thought, 'could've been her breaking point'.

He dropped his keys to the ground and hurriedly strode through the apartment in search of you, calling out to you over and over again, each utterance of your name more panicked than the last. When his search came up empty, he called your phone but got no answer, sending him into a full on anxiety spiral. Nothing made any sense- why were your bags there if you weren't? Why weren't you answering your phone? Why-

The sound of your voice pulled Bucky from his trip down the dark rabbit hole, drawing him toward the front door on autopilot. "Buck?" you called as you noticed the ajar front door. He stood a few feet away, staring at you with hopelessness in his eyes. "What's going on? Why is the door open?" you asked, but he didn't seem to hear you. His voice came out as a shaky, broken sound that tore at your heart as he spoke:

"Hey- hi... um, are you- are you leaving?”

“I mean, not right this second,” you laughed, “but yeah.”

Bucky’s world tilted violently on its axis. “Baby, I… p-please don't. Don’t go. Whatever I did- I’m sorry. I promise I'll fix it. I'll be better... just please don't leave.”

“Buck-”

Desperate pleas furiously pushed their way out of Bucky’s. “I can't imagine my life without you, sweets. I'll do anything you want, just don't-please don't leave me".

As his voice trailed off, he searched your face for any sign that he'd convinced you, but found nothing. A deafening silence shoved its way in between the two of you, driving Bucky mad. He couldn't stop himself from rambling on to fill the quiet, still attempting to win you over. The words fell quickly from his mouth before his brain had the chance to approve them:

"I know how it sounds- me begging you to stay like this. I know it's completely- it’s completely pathetic,” he paused only to wipe his nose on his sleeve. “But I just can't- I don't know what I'll do. I understand if you don't want to be with me anymore, but I'm just asking for a chance. If you give me a-"

The sensation of your body crashing into his stopped his broken hearted rambling. Your arms flung themselves around his neck and pulled him close. Your face rested against his beck. And even if this was your ‘goodbye’ hug, Bucky loved the feeling. A deep sigh left his chest as he desperately threw his arms around your waist, keeping you as close to him as he possibly could.

"Buck..." you whispered, "I'm not leaving you." You pulled away ever so slightly, just enough that you could look him in the eye. "It's the weekend of the 18th- I'm going to see my sister, remember? I got all my stuff packed and realized I didn't have any tampons, so I had to run to the store real quick".

A pink hue began filling his cheeks and he let his head droop, screwing his eyes shut out of pure humiliation.

"I'm so- wow, that's embarrassing," he said. "I don't know what happened- I saw your bags and you weren't here so I called your phone but you didn't answer and I… I panicked, I guess. I’m sorry.” The shame dragged his every feature downward. And if you didn’t have a reason to leave home before, Bucky worried he’d just given you one.

"Hey, you don't have to be embarrassed," you cupped his face and ran your thumbs over his cheekbones. "And you don't sound pathetic. I'm sorry I scared you, I didn't realize I'd forgotten my phone till I got to the store. I'm sorry, Buck".

He shook his head, completely unable to process anything aside from the sharp twinge of embarrassment that filled his chest. A gentle hand lifted his chin until his eyes met yours, the pure shame impossible to miss. "There is nothing that could make me leave you, I promise. You're the love of my life, Barnes. You're kind and sweet and- you're everything I've ever wanted. I don't ever want you to think that you have to beg me to stay, cause I'll be here till you beg me to leave."

He let his forehead rest against yours with a sigh, feeling the anxiety slowly recede from his chest. "Well, that's never gonna happen," he joked with a small smile. Once again, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into the warmth of your body. His heart was still hammering in his chest, prompting you to stroked his hair lightly to help him calm down. "Come on, let's go sit on the couch," you offered, "let me hold ya for a while".

He resisted your efforts to pull him into the living room, arguing that you'd be late for your flight. "I still have plenty of time babe," you assured him, "and besides, I don't really wanna go, anyway. I'll tell my sister there was an emergency and reschedule. She'll understand". Bucky remained still, furrowing his brow at your idea.

More guilt trickled into his chest cavity and he shook his head in disapproval, "I don't want you to miss out on seeing your sister because of me..."

"Buck, you're my life, now. You're my partner. And I don't know about you but, after that, I personally think that me staying and spending the weekend with you is probably a better idea than me leaving. Agreed?" You gave him an expectant look until his resolve crumbled and he finally allowed you to pull him onto the couch. He rested his head on your chest and wrapped his arms around your waist, relishing in the feeling of your body against his. "I'm not going anywhere," you whispered as you played with his hair, "not ever".

[katehawke]

☆Passive☆

⚠️ Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, smut in later chapters, mentioning of mental illness. Grabber x original Character.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

☆A Brief Reflection☆

A few days had passed since Dr. Hastings last visited the house and Amber got more and more accustomed to the new normal, which basically consisted of Al sitting in his chair, staring blank eyed at the wall in front of him.

She tried to turn on the radio, to no avail. He didn't show the slightest reaction. At least he'd swallow whenever she held a cup of tea or water to his mouth, but that was most likely only an automatic bodily response.

In the first two days she had moved him from his chair to the couch and cuddled up to him as best as possible, but she soon grew tired of his unresponsive state. It's been the third time in the past 6 months that this had happened and part of her got tired of this behavior. She needed someone who took care of HER and this was just not it.

She should have listened to her father, he had told her not to move in with him unless he'd get a real job and put a ring on her finger.

The Shaws have always been a strange family, Alberts father was a drunkard - sadly no isolated case, yet it undeniably had been part of his traumatic childhood experiences.

"Albert, you need to talk to me. Iam still here, I won't..., leave you", she cooed though she hadn't voiced the last part, she couldn't get herself to say it, not this time.

Another Sigh left her lips and it almost felt as if she wouldn't do anything else, but Sigh and wait and care for him.

"A-Amber..", his hoarse voice was but a whisper, yet it managed to draw her back to reality and caused an ice cold feeling tingling up her spine, ending in her fingertips.

She quickly turned to him, almost certain that hearing his voice was nothing but a delusion, but to her suprise he was indeed looking at her.

"Albert! Albert! I...you a-are back!", she quickly moved towards him and got on her knees right where his head rested.

"Amber, I, please forgive me.", he tried to get up but she gently pushed him back into the cushions. Tears filled her eyes, she quickly blinked them away, she couldn't give in right now, yet he seemed so fragile that she just couldn't resist and let her hand run through his mussed hair. She loved him in a way, but it wasn't the kind of love a woman should hold for her man...in the beginning it might have been like that but now it was no more than pity and habit that tied her to him. Deep down she knew that he couldn't provide her with the life she had dreamed of.

She patted his head, wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and got up.

"I will make you a bowl of soup darling.", she tried to hide the quiver in her voice as best as she could and yet was sure that he must know how high the risk of her leaving was, because he tried to get up once more and made his way towards the kitchen to hug her from behind.

She almost dropped the bowl of soup at his sudden touch.

She could feel him rub his face against the crook of her neck, his lips slowly tracing the outlines of her collarbone.

She simply couldn't play along any longer, but she had to wait for the right moment, so she slowly turned around and caressed his cheek, before she ordered him to walk back to the sofa.

They sat in silence whilst he was slowly eating the soup, she had made.

Her head was spinning and her fingertips almost hurt from the way she tangled and detangled them in her lap. She scolded herself for being this nervous. She had thought about this for the past weeks and yet she never caught the right moment to break the news to him. She almost changed her plans, but his newest jaunt into psychosis showed her once more, that she wasn't tough enough nor even willing anymore to put up with him. The guilt she felt, crawled through her guts like a poisonous serpent, slowly turning her insides into jelly. She would either have to leave now, or she'd get even more attached to him, which would make leaving impossible or unbearably painful.

A deep Sigh left her lips, when she finally found the courage to speak.

"A-Al, we need to talk."

To be continued

[landinoandco]

|Shutter speed|

Chapter one : A staring contest with an attractive stranger

{Lando Norris x Reader}

Summary: A photographer. A pair of F1 drivers. Triangles. A sticky situation of morals and fighting fate. What could go wrong?

Warnings: None :)

Rating: Teen and up

Word count: 1.5k

A/n: hey guys, welcome to Shutter Speed!! A love triangle between LN DR and reader (in this story reader is called Georgie.) This is my first f1 fanfiction so any feedback/suggestions are very welcome or if you just want to add comments, reactions - anything goes!! Thank you for reading and enjoy :)

Chapter one: A staring contest with an attractive stranger ...

It was raining in London. Not that that was out of the ordinary - even in the beginning days of July. Today the weather had decided to imitate that of mid-March, the rain crashing down like the heavens had opened up above and the wind cheekily chasing tourists and commuters indoors then proceeding to race eagerly through the streets, nipping at any ankles of those who were lagging behind the rest.

Lando Norris was out with his trainer when the rain started, enjoying the freedom of a 2 week break before the highly anticipated British Grand Prix. They rushed down the alleyway they had found themselves on; until they came across a little coffee shop tucked away in the corner - 'The Little London Stop.' Jon nodded to confirm to Lando that this would be just fine - as he opened the door, a small bell rang just above his head and instantly they were hit by a comforting warmth and the smell of freshly made coffee.

He quickly slid onto one of the benches, facing out onto the shop. It was typically London, designed with someone's Instagram feed in mind, plants hung precariously from the rafters along with many singular light bulbs that casted at atmospheric glow around the room.

Opposite him, on the other side of the room sat the only other person in the shop, she sat with her back to them. Her messy mousy brown hair tumbled in waves down her back, her gaze on the rain rushing down the alleyway - her chin resting on the heel of her hand.

Georgie had been sitting in that exact spot for longer than she would care to admit. Escaping the pestering grasp of her best friend and roommate Maisie; they were both photographers - partners in an online business they set up when they first left college as they prepared to take on the world. Pre-covid it had flourished and the pair had been travelling up and down the country, from events like weddings to festivals. Post-covid however - this was where their problems had started and why Georgie was currently hiding in a coffee shop. Work had become as dry as her love life, events had been cancelled for another year and wedding guest numbers had been limited. For weeks they had been sending their portfolios to any event organiser they could find and for weeks they kept being turned away.

She tore her eyes from the flooding streets and back to her open laptop - she was completely stuck, where to even start? Georgie nibbled on the on her bottom lip and sighed before rubbing her hands over her face - she was really looking for a miracle to happen.

Lando was completely intrigued by the girl. It wasn't until Jon snapped his fingers in front of Lando's face that he realised he had been staring.

"Right, sorry." Lando mumbled, a red flush creeping up his neck and he moved his gaze to the wooden table, wringing his fingers together. "What were you saying?"

Jon chuckled at his young boy antics and shook his head, "I wasn't, you were staring and it was weird. I picked you up this green smoothie - lots of vitamins and-" But Lando had switched off again, he couldn't help himself as his eyes locked back onto where they had been before. It was like something was drawing him to her - hell, he didn't even know what she looked like.

"Are you going to go and speak to her?" Jon's voice broke his trance yet again.

"Wha-what?" Lando looked up at his trainer, his innocent eyes widening at the thought. "I-I-"

Jon scoffed and rolled his eyes, "You are such a teenager."

"I'm not a teenager." Lando hit back, "I'm 21. I can drink in the US now, you know."

"Then start acting like it." Jon scolded but the corners of his mouth quirked up, he had known Lando for years and he had not changed once. A hopeless romantic at heart but acted like a deer caught in the headlights as soon as anyone of the opposite gender even glanced his way. Any girl would be lucky to have him but unfortunately for Lando he always found himself drawn to the type that would take his heart whole and would leave, shattering it into millions of pieces for Jon to find and piece back together again. It was through no fault of the girls in question, they would make their intentions very clear but Lando - being who he was - would always jump head first without looking ahead or the consequences of his actions.

On the plus side, Lando came back stronger each time but it left him with an even stronger longing for that care and affection that everyone around him seemed to have.

His heart raced as he looked over at Jon, a determined look was set on his face. "Fine. I'll do it." He stood up, legs wobbling slightly as the adrenaline flooded through his veins - he had cleared the table when reality decided to walk through the door. He turned on his heels and sat back down. "Nope. Maybe another day." His voice wavered slightly.

Jon looked at him with sympathy and slight second hand embarrassment - not that Lando needed to know that.

Georgie looked over her shoulder at the commotion happening behind her - there were two young men sitting across the room from her. One was clearly older than the other and was looking at him in utter bemusement - she followed his gaze...

Georgie inhaled sharply, she was met by a pair of crystal blue eyes - of which lit up when he realised that she had looked over. Georgie simply didn't know what to do with herself as she seemed to be stuck in a staring contest with an incredibly attractive stranger. She managed to tear her eyes away to look at him properly; a mop of dark brown curls sat dripping onto the table (still wet from the torrential downpour), an olive complexion and an innocent sparkle in his crystal blue eyes. She offered him a shy smile, a rose tinge coating her cheeks. He gave her a lopsided grin in response.

There was an overwhelming feeling that drew Georgie to this stranger, it wasnt anything she had experienced before - not even when she had been with him.

A cold chilling suddenly rushed down her spine, almost like she had been standing in the rain falling outside. A pang of guilt filled her stomach, she dropped her gaze and bit her lip. How could she ever think of him like that, compare him to a stranger she didnt even know the name of.

A ring broke her train of thought, her phone lit up with Maisie's name. She inhaled slowly to ground her feelings before answering, trying to sound as normal as possible.

"Hey Maise -"

"I've done it." She heard Maisie shout down the phone, followed by a relieved laugh.

"Done what, sorry." Georgie prompted, rubbing her eyes. She could feel the boys' eyes on her, resisting the urge to turn around; she closed the lid of her laptop and placed it in her bag.

"I've only gone and gotten us an event to go to this weekend." Maisie replied as casually as she could muster. Georgie paused. A large grin that would challenge the Cheshire cats'.

"Where and how?" Georgie felt a weight lift from her shoulders, it didn't matter what Maisie had signed them up for, it was a start. A fresh start.

"Look, I have a call with them any minute so I'll have to explain when you get back. It's at the Goodwood festival of speed." Maisie paused.

"Goodwood Festival of speed." Georgie echoed - she could hear ringing in the background.

"Got to go, final things to sort out. I'll see you later." With that she hung up, leaving a delighted Georgie frozen in place, until she found her senses and packed up as fast as she could. All thoughts of the boy across the room - gone.

He sat, puzzled, as he watched her rush out the door and into the rain - calling out a muffled 'thank you' as the door swung shut behind her. His brows drew together as he looked into his lap, before saying quietly to Jon: "It was the Goodwood Festival of Speed she just said, didn't she?"

"Yes." Jon answered shortly, looking down at him in fascination.

"Isn't that where I am this weekend?" Lando looked up, hope swelled in his chest.

"Yes, it is."

Lando looked longingly out of the window, beaming. He knew it was silly to get so hopeful - there were going to be thousands upon thousands swarming around Goodwood. He stood up and turned to Jon - "Lets go."

"But you haven't drank your smoothie -"

Lando was already at the door, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Jon grabbed the smoothie and tittered, following after him.

You only live once, Lando thought. As it turns out he would get another chance this Saturday and this time he wasn't blowing it.

Chapter two: A new beginning

[slashbitch2]

The Very Nosy Neighbour

this fic was 100% inspired by this one here , but I mean it practically wrote itself I couldn't resist

NSFW

You can't remember much past waking up in an unfamiliar room- though 'room' is really a sugarcoated description, as in reality it qualifies more as some kind of cavern. You're sitting in a chair, ankles and wrists bound by an indistinguishable material. Whatever the binds are made of feels strong, so any attempts to struggle against it are futile. Yet, in spite of what really should be an extremely stressful situation, you find yourself completely relaxed. You briefly wonder whether you've been drugged, but with every sense feeling fully operational, that theory is soon dismissed.

Instead of choosing a more logical response to the circumstances you've found yourself in, you decided to focus more on your surroundings: not to form any resemblance of an escape plan, but simply out of curiosity. Although, the investigation is equally as ineffective. You're unable to name anything around you except for stone walls, strange (glowing?) vines and weird symbols carved above a few archways. Everything beyond that is either entirely lost to you, or shrouded in darkness.

With little else to do, you start to think back on the events that led you there, trying to glean any useful information from the blurry memories. The clearest image, therefore the most recent, is the smirking face of a woman, Agnes you realise. Though the malicious glint in her eyes doesn't quite match your perception of the nosy neighbour. But where is she now? Is she also in danger? You may not have known Agnes for very long, but are reluctant to let any harm come to her regardless.

With a clearer head, you consider calling for help, but a small voice at the back of your subconscious warns you against this. And the voice sounds smart, so you elect to listen to it. But what should you do instead? Where did this voice come from? And most importantly, should you trust it? Luckily, you aren't given much time to overthink the decision.

While trying to tune into this voice, footsteps echo in the distance, gradually drawing nearer. You hold your breath as the sound suddenly stops, leaving your eyes scanning the vicinity for any movement. The unpleasant reality dawns on you all too quickly: the footsteps were approaching from behind you.

“Well, well, well.” Someone says playfully, then snorts as they start walking closer. "Sorry to be a total cliché. I couldn't resist." It's Agnes. She narrows her eyes and smirks, folding her arms as she examines your constrained form. Subjected to her scrutiny, you find yourself swallowing, but your throat is too dry. Other small discomforts also become noticeable; your cramped limbs, aching back and the bruises on your hands. Well at least you put up a fight. The more rational part of you, however, realises that your hands are no longer bound. You stare down at them, flexing each finger as if checking they were all still fully functional.

Something suddenly knocks into your head and you grimace. Left reeling from the impact, you realise that you're slightly nauseated. Though not enough to stop you from reaching out to grasp the floating cup of water. The fact that the glass is suspended in mid-air doesn't go unnoticed, rather ignored, since there's too much happening simultaneously to comprehend any of it in sufficient detail. You swirl the liquid round, hesitant to drink, unwilling to trust your captor's apparent mercy.

"Drink up, dear." Agnes drags a chair forward, which seems to have just appeared out of thin air. She sits backwards on it, legs spread and arms resting on the back casually. "That's all you're getting until we're done here." The tone of her voice is both threatening and teasing. You're reluctant to admit it's quite a turn on.

One glance up at her prying expression and you relent, downing the chilled water way too quickly. Though you aren't given a chance to mourn your impatience, as with an effortless wave of her hand, Agnes refills the glass. While you sip at the water, she refuses to tear her eyes away from you for even a second. It's slightly disconcerting.

“Now," She claps her hands, startling you. "I assume you know why you’re here?”

“Not really.” You confess, unable to pinpoint why anyone would go to so much effort to kidnap you, especially Agnes, who up to this point had been an eccentric yet kind neighbour.

She sighs, more for show than anything else, and rubs at her temple. "Come on Y/N, let's not play dumb now."

Embarrassingly, a heat begins to pool deep in your gut, but you quickly dismiss the unwarranted lust. "I don't know what you mean."

"Oh really?" She quirks an eyebrow, sitting upright. "You really have no idea?" The inquiry is ridiculing, and you can see that your naivety is starting to annoy her.

All you can do is shake your head and pray the sincerity is reflected in your eyes.

"Okay." She slams her hands down on her thighs. "I guess we'll have to go about this the hard way then, toots." A sharp gesture and your hands are bound before you once again.

By the time you're looking up, she's striding toward you with purpose, which does nothing to ease the building heat between your legs. Her hands clasp on the armrests either side, essentially trapping you, not like escape would've been possible without the extra precaution. Up close you finally recognize this isn't Agnes- in fact it never has been. There's a feral yet wise appearance to her, the facade of nosy neighbour dissolved in an instance to be replaced by a deranged, frighteningly powerful woman (or witch, you're undecided).

Despite your better judgement, you're unable to stop yourself from asking. "Who are you?" Your voice barely breaches a whisper, but she's standing close enough that nothing less intimate is required.

She looks mildly impressed, the corner of her mouth twitching almost indiscernibly. "Agatha Harkness." She extends a hand, smirking upon realisation that you're a little too tied up at the minute to reciprocate. "Lovely to meet you."

You swallow again, finding your throat to be a little less dry. "Likewise." Then decide to take another risk. "So what do you want from me?"

“Wanda's true identity.” She replies so quickly that you almost miss it, looking at you with an eagerly expectant expression.

Agatha's question confuses you further. “I don’t know what you mean.” Although your answer is honest, something at the back of your mind hisses lies.

"There's no need to lie here." Her patient humour had disappeared. "Trust me, no one will hear you, so drop the act."

For some unbeknown reason, her accusation angers you. "I'm not putting on an act, I don't know why I'm here or what you want from me." The bravery dissipates all of a sudden as you remember that you're not exactly in the position to command such authority. "Please, stop this."

Agatha purses her lips, stands up and turns away from you. She calmly moves forwards a few paces, and in the short amount of time you manage to convince yourself that she's given up. Until in a completely unprovoked move, she swings her hands to the left, sending her chair crashing into the wall in frustration. Whether this is part of her interrogation performance or not, it works. Your heart starts racing, and confusingly, the awkward heat between your legs pulses.

She runs a hand through her hair, still facing away from you. "Don't make this any harder harder than it needs to be." You can practically hear her grinding her teeth, but don't doubt that she was getting some enjoyment out of the situation.

"I can tell you that Wanda is my sister and only real family, that I moved to Westview with her and that I couldn't live without her." You start listing off some basic facts, desperate to prove to Agatha that nothing is hidden. That you're normal.

"What about your brother?" She swivels round, clicking her fingers as she tries to recall something. "Pietro!" She exclaims.

"Pietro..." You falter. Why does the name sound so familiar? The nausea worsens. You shake off the feeling. "Never heard of him."

“Liar.” In one swift movement, Agatha is right by your ear. The feeling of her lips brushing against your skin causes you to close your eyes. The close proximity was becoming overwhelming, and your body had chosen to react in a rather unfortunate way. Admittedly, you'd always had a thing for Agnes, but Agatha was on a whole other level. You dreaded to open your eyes, worried that she'd noticed your current state. Instead, you internally begged for mercy.

“Don't go all shy on me now.” She pushes your shoulder into the chair, compelling you to open your eyes. "If you don't want to talk, I have other methods." Her hand raises, a purple flow emanating from the tips of her fingers. It crackles and sparks, as if the power was barely contained, yet as she shifts closer to brush the hair out of your face, you don't flinch. One finger remained touching your forehead, then traced down to your jaw, and finally along to grasp your chin.

While the vaguely sinister movement terrified you, it also forced you hold your breath and grip onto the armrests for dear life. Why you'd decided this was hot was beyond you considering the many connotations of her words, yet your thighs pressed tighter together as she drew closer. You attempted to turn your head to the side, longing for distraction, but her hold on you kept your head still.

"This won't be much fun for you, dear." She sighed in mock pity, her breath hot against your skin... Which just tipped you over the edge. As hard as you tried to stifle the noise, a broken moan escaped your lips. You'd definitely hit a low point here. Too ashamed to face your apparent arousal, you screwed your eyes shut. Although, at Agatha's silence, you relented and opened them barely a minute later.

To your relief, or perhaps dismay, the woman was grinning like a maniac. Her eyes flickered down to your parted lips as she chewed on her own. Then carefully, as if she were testing the waters, her fingers began to rub against your jaw, and upwards to your mouth. Your breath deceives you by hitching as her thumb slips between your lips, stroking your tongue. At the contact, you can't help but arch into the touch. Agatha chuckles.

"I take it back." She murmurs, removing her hand. "This will be fun." Although the intimidation factor prevails, there's a certain desire mirrored in Agatha's expression which cancels out any remaining common sense. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, and even if you wanted to, there was little you could do to stop her. So, you give into your yearning, sighing as she climbs to sit on your lap. Immediately, her hand switches to gripping the back of your neck as she slams her mouth onto yours. You willingly indulge by opening further, allowing her tongue to slide between your lips. Her other hand lowers to grab at your chest, like she were trying to tug herself impossibly closer.

Without removing her lips, the hand massaging your chest shifts to your thigh. She still keeps her lips firmly pressed to yours, and with the lack of oxygen, you can feel yourself growing lightheaded. It almost feels like a challenge, one which you're determined to succeed at. Though when she eventually does break away, her hand suddenly slips between your thighs, and your breath is stolen from you once more. Wasting no time, she massages you through your clothes, dragging out an inevitable whine. The touch is both too much, and not enough. But judging by her malevolent smirk, that was exactly her intention.

Even though you were currently incapable of producing any reasonable thought, you still noticed that Agatha wasn't entirely unaffected. Her breathing was laboured, hips occasionally jerking against your thigh and eyes struggling to stay open. The influence you were having on her only encouraged you to moan louder, craving to see her equally dishevelled. Your plan seemed to momentarily fail as her hand retreated. But you'd certainly earned her attention.

She licks her lips, then abruptly changes her expression to look disturbingly like that of Agnes. "You wouldn't leave me out of the fun now, would you dear?" Her voice is high pitched as she basically sings her words. Although the question must've been rhetorical as doesn't await a response, instead you find your hands unbound, flung behind your back and bound together all in a matter of seconds. Then, she shifted her position, yanking your bodies closer so that your crotches were pressed together. She grunts, heaving forward to rest against you for a moment and regain her composure. And finally, without warning, starts to grind your hips together.

It doesn't take long for her movement to become more frantic, accompanied by her hair spilling onto her face. She remains impressively quiet, however, or perhaps you were just comparably loud. With the little pride you have left, you decide to take matters into your own hands, and start meeting each thrust with equal vigour. Miraculously, it works. She throws her head back with a remarkably loud moan, proceeded by change in strategy as she starts almost bouncing on top of you, hips losing their rhythm, pleasure overwhelming her. Startled by her lack of self-control, the heat in your stomach begins building exponentially fast. Your eyes slam shut.

A hand grasps onto your face. “Look at me!” She growls, then emphasises her demand by rolling her hips torturously slowly. The movement ceases. She leans her forehead against yours, staring directly into your eyes. “Come with me.” To your surprise, there's an audible plea in her voice.

At a loss for words, you nod. The pleasure had been building for so long that you knew it'd only take a few more grinds to push you over the edge. With your confirmation, Agatha resumes her thrusting, though soon succumbs, throwing her head back and uttering an exceptionally loud, high-pitched moan. She arches her back, pressing herself so far into you that the pleasure peaks. You groan, lurching backwards in a moment of pure bliss. All you can feel is Agatha, all you can think about is Agatha. Coming down from the high, you sigh and collapse forward to bury your face in the crook of her neck.

She tenses slightly at the contact, but soon relaxes into the strange embrace. You gently press your lips against her skin and feel her shiver, confirming your suspicion that it'd been a while since Agatha had received such affection. Motivated by a new, more innocent desire, you continue to pepper light kisses across her throat and behind her ear, simply enjoying the unexpectedly intimate moment.

Agatha finally breaks the silence, leaning away from your touch to look down at you curiously. "Wanda really has you under her mind control too, huh?"

Although still stuck in a post-coital haze, you muster enough brainpower to consider her words. "Mind control?"

"Oh, right." She smirks, a slight sadness perceptible in her eyes. "Forgot to mention." Before you can say anything, she swings one leg to the side, stiffly sliding off your lap and clasping her hands together. "You might want to reconsider where your loyalties lie, dear." She glances at you, then ambles to the opposite side of the room. "That's one fucked up family situation right there." Her voice teasingly calls out.

You feel yourself flush, strangely offended by her comment, and annoyed by her vagueness. "Like you can talk." Your response is a total shot in the dark, but must've hit a nerve since she slowly turns back to you, a suspicious expression upon her face. "Just a guess." You add, unwilling to know the details of whatever sensitive topic you'd just touched upon. Agatha easily shrugs it off, leaving behind a stifling silence. Eventually, it's a mixture of your own boredom and concern that prompts you to end the lull in conversation. "Are you still planning on interrogating me about something I know nothing about?"

"Oh, no I read your mind." She waves a dismissive hand over her shoulder. "Got all I needed."

Again, you're left suffocating in the confusion her ambiguity provokes, with nothing else to ask except. "How...?"

The inquiry must've been exactly what Agatha wanted to hear as she immediately dropped what she was doing to turn around and lean on the wall, arms folded in a casually smug pose. "Sex leaves you vulnerable." She smirked. "All I did was take advantage of the opportunity- but I'll spare you the boring details." With a flourish of her hand and a flash of purple, the binds holding your ankles and wrists disappeared. "You can go now. First door on the left."

Without sparing you another glance, she busied herself with some witchy task, allowing you to see yourself out. Massaging your wrists, you stood slowly, watching her expectantly. Surely she wouldn't just let you leave? Yet as you sauntered over to the door she'd directed you to, she made no move to stop you. "Bye then?"

Agatha looked up at you and winked. "See you around, neighbour."

[serasvictoria]

Stupid Games - Chapter 2

Pairing: Ubbe Lothbrok x Reader, Ivar Lothbrok x Reader

Rating: Explicit at the end

Word count: 7487 (look, I obviously have issues)

Summary: You used to live next to the Lothbroks when you were younger, but you moved away and haven't seen them since. A wedding brings you back to town after many years and during a bachelorette party you run into the brothers again.

Notes: After Hvitserk had a go in the first part, Ubbe and Ivar take over. I thought that this chapter would end up being more centered around Ubbe (he will get more attention in the next instalment), but Ivar had something to say about that apparently. He is a bit of a pushy shit in this chapter, but I was oddly into it.

Took me a while to post this, because I couldn't get the first part of this to work. I'm finally pleased with it now so hopefully it'll work for you guys as well *fingers crossed*

Part 1 (link to my AO3)

All images from Pinterest

Tagging @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @ritual-unions-gotme @vikingstrash @pomegranates-and-blood @quantumlocked310 @adrille88 @actual-queen-of-hell @youbloodymadgenius @punkrocknpearls @zuxiezendler

“A game?”

After Ivar had alluded to some kind of game that seemed to be going on between Hvitserk and Ubbe, something that neither of them wanted to comment on, their youngest brother had been the one to tell you what he had been talking about. It didn’t exactly help that Ivar looked a little bit too gleeful that he was the one that got to tell you all about this.

They had been playing a game. And it was all centered around you. That was why whenever one of them tried something when you were still a teenager, the other one was always keen to take it one step further. Everything from the kissing to the heavy petting to the dry humping, quite possibly all the way down to what had taken place in the restrooms earlier, had all been part of some stupid game.

“So the two of you were just playing with me this entire time?” Hvitserk had gone completely silent and seemed to be more interested in the contents of his glass. You somehow guessed that he was waiting for Ubbe to say something, since he was usually the one that diffused situations when they threatened to get out of hand, but his older brother never interjected. “Why would you even do that?”

“I would never do that to you,” Ivar suddenly said. “They are children.”

“Now hang on…”

“Shut up, Hvitserk.” Whatever it was that he was going to say, you didn’t exactly want to hear it. “Yeah, Ivar, you’re a real saint.”

“Better than them anyway.”

“I need some fresh air.”

“You want me to come with you?”

“No, Ivar. Stay here.” You leaned over to him and briefly pressed your lips on his cheek. “But thanks for offering.”

Before turning away, your eyes swept over Ubbe and Hvitserk for a few seconds and it looked like Ubbe had been about to say something, finally finding some words, but he closed his mouth when you turned away from them. Obviously sensing that it might not be the best idea to say something right at this very moment. You pushed yourself through the throng of people, the air too stifling now. When you were relieved that you could finally breathe in some cool air instead of the almost humid atmosphere in the bar. The night air was pleasant, on the cusp of summer and autumn, where the temperatures were still nice until relatively late in the evening.

Despite the fact that you had given it up years ago, it was times like these where you wished you hadn’t quit smoking. Since your hands needed to do something, you grabbed your mobile instead and scrolled through your instagram feed, if only to make sure that you weren’t opening yourself up to a potential conversation with anyone.

If you were honest with yourself, you had always expected that Ubbe and Hvitserk had been up to something all those years ago, but that a game had been at the source of it was quite unexpected. You had somehow convinced yourself that you’d just been having fun, that you were simply exploring new things with the boys next door, that you were using them just as much as they were using you. But it was never that simple, was it? Because at one point your feelings had very much entered into it, long before Ubbe had even kissed you.

But would they really be so cruel as to turn it all into a game? You knew and trusted these guys. You had a hard time thinking of them as callous. They wouldn’t do that. Not to you.

“Want some company?” You turned your head to the side and saw Ubbe approach you. He leaned against the wall next to you, but kept his distance. “I know that what Ivar said just now sounds really bad, but he was the only one that ever called what we were doing a game. Neither me or Serk ever looked at it that way.”

“Then what was it?”

“Interest in my case and Hvitserk was obsessed. Plain and simple.”

“Obsessed? With me?”

“What did you think it was?” He turned so that his shoulder was now pressed up against the wall and he could look you in the eye. “You remember that stupid card game?” You nodded. “Serk knew that you had never kissed anyone and he wanted to be your first. He figured that he had it in the bag as well, but he didn’t have a clue that I had a winning hand.”

“I had sort of figured out that it was the reason why he had suggested that dumb prize in the first place.” Why else would he have even come up with it to begin with if he hadn’t been convinced that he would win? “But why didn’t he just kiss me then? I wouldn’t think that he needed much incentive to do that. Especially when you take into consideration how many other girls he had already kissed at that point.”

“I don’t know,” Ubbe said with a shrug. “I probably know him best of all, but I don’t get his reasoning all the time. Maybe he thought that his best option was to turn it into a game.”

“That would explain it.” You looked up at Ubbe with a slight smile when your mind flitted back to that particular day. “And then he lost.”

“He was furious.” Ubbe started laughing. “Even accused me of rigging the game in my favour later.”

“It wasn’t like the kiss was any good.”

“Say what now?” He playfully poked a finger against your ribs. “I was prepared to put my heart and soul in that kiss. You were the one that pulled away.”

“Don’t remind me.” The only thing that you remembered was that you were absolutely horrified that Ubbe had essentially been forced to kiss you because of some dumb game. You’d wanted it to be a natural thing, not something that he had felt obligated to do. “He didn’t have any problems later on.”

“He wanted to outdo me.”

“Then what was everything that happened earlier all about?

“You want to know what he told me?”

“Well yeah.” You thought about it for a few seconds after answering him and added a quick, “It’s not going to be bad, is it?”

“Nope.” Sensing your apprehension, he reached out and took one of your hands in his as a comforting gesture. “He said that it had been worth the wait. As soon as he said that, I knew what the two of you had gotten up to while you were away.”

“Worth the wait?”

“He was obsessed with finding out what you tasted like. He even lost sleep over it at the time.” Ubbe barked out a laugh when he saw the surprised, yet also intrigued, look on your face. “It was pretty bad.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned. “He is such an idiot.”

You covered your face with your free hand and wished that you could just disappear right this very moment. This was definitely not what you thought was going to happen when you decided to come back to Kattegat after all these years. You always knew that there was a chance that you’d run into the Lothbroks at one point during your visit, but you hadn’t accounted for anything like this.

Ubbe’s hand slowly peeled your hand away from your eyes and his big blue eyes peered into yours quite insistently. “We’re cool, right?”

“Come on. As if I could stay mad at you.”

“Good.” He kept up his intense stare and kept holding your hands. Whenever you tried to pull your hands away, he squeezed until you stopped resisting. “Can I ask you something?”

“Depends on what you want to know.”

“Why did you never call?”

“Call?” You frowned, not sure what he was talking about. “When?”

“When you moved away. You promised to stay in touch, but you never did.”

“Oh. That. Why do you want to talk about that now?”

“Just always wondered about it. That’s all.”

“I don’t think I…” He tilted his head to the side in a similar way that Ivar always did to show that he wasn’t going to drop the subject. You sighed deeply and wished that he’d just let go of your hands already so you could cover your face again. “Stupid really.” You tried to figure out how best to say this since it had been based on nothing but teenage insecurities at the time and they seemed so trivial now that you were a grown up. Ubbe didn’t push you, he simply waited until you found the words, his thumbs drawing comforting circles on the palms of your hands. “I erm… I wanted to. Just figured you guys would be busy.”

“With what?”

“More important… stuff.”

“Cut the crap.”

“Okay. Jesus.” You squeezed your eyes shut, knowing that he couldn’t exactly pry your eyelids open. “I needed some time to adjust at first so I didn’t want to bother you guys with that dumb shit. Who wants to hear about that crap right? To hear me bitch and moan about how much I hated it there.”

Your mother had moved to be closer to her family and staying in Kattegat had hurt too much. Much later she had told you that everything there had reminded her of your father. Where they had their first date, where he had proposed, everything there had been tied to him and she wanted to get away from it. Her entire life before she had met your father had been in Silkeborg which seemed a million miles away from the only place that you’d ever known. You transferred into school in the middle of a school year and the only kids you knew there were two cousins, one of which you hated. You were absolutely miserable and basically kept your head down until you were old enough to go to college so you could get the hell out of there.

“I stayed in touch with Svana, Olga and Gunna and I eventually asked about you guys, since I was thinking of calling and I wanted to know if it’d be weird if I did that after going all silent for a while.” You swallowed. God, this was hard. “But they’d always go all quiet when I brought you guys up and I didn’t know why. They kept saying that you were doing fine and wouldn’t elaborate. So I asked Kára instead since she’s the only one that wouldn’t sugarcoat anything...”

That was where you stopped suddenly, not really wanting to continue. The reason was so incredibly stupid. It didn’t matter. The urge to go back inside and get paralytically drunk was overwhelming. Before you knew what happened, your face suddenly connected with Ubbe’s chest and he gave you a massive hug. He was still good at giving those. You still remembered that time after he had given you your first orgasm and the two of you had lain in his bed, hugging each other until it got dark outside. He never even said anything that time either, he just held you which was the exact same thing that he was doing right now.

“What did she say?” Nothing in how he held you gave away that he was angry, but you could hear it quite clearly in his voice.

“This is so stupid.” You pressed your head against his chest so that you could muffle your answer. “They told me that you and Serk were seeing Margrethe.”

At the time it had felt like the deepest betrayal to your young mind. It didn’t matter that you hadn’t been in a relationship with either one of them, but the only thought that had been on your mind at the time was that they’d moved on and found someone else. With your mortal enemy no less. It wasn’t like they didn’t know that the relationship that you had with her was strained, if you could even call it that at all.

You thought that the two of you had been friends at one time, but Margrethe had merely befriended you as a means to get closer to the Lothbroks. When that hadn’t worked, she had started spreading vicious rumours around school and the word about you being a whore that slept with all four of the boys spread around the school like wildfire.

It hadn’t mattered how much anyone had denied it, a lot of people had been a bit too eager to accept the gossip as gospel. Mainly girls had eaten it up like cake. Apparently a lot of girls were incredibly jealous of the fact that you were around the most popular guys in school almost constantly. The only girls that had stood by you through all of it were the seven girls that you were with tonight. Kára had even attempted to break Margrethe’s nose when she’d found out who had been behind the rumours and had been expelled for a week because of it.

In the end Margrethe had gotten exactly what she wanted.

“That’s it?”

“What do you mean ‘that’s it’?” You pulled away and slapped his chest suddenly. “You knew I had a history with that bitch.”

“Maybe you should have called and asked me about it.” He sighed and pulled you back in for another hug. “Or were you worried about what the answer might have been?”

“I was a dumb kid.” You pressed your head against his chest again and breathed in his comforting scent. He always smelled so musky and earthy. There was no other scent quite like it. “Course I was worried.”

“It was never that serious. Not for her anyway.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She had… issues.” Ubbe was picking his words very carefully. It wasn’t that big of a surprise to you to be honest. The fact that Margrethe was seriously troubled hadn’t completely escaped you back then, but you had never concerned yourself too much with trying to figure out what her deal was. “I tried to help her, but whenever I tried to broach the subject she’d run to Serk to badmouth me.”

Even if you haven’t thought of Margrethe for years, hearing him say that made you want to hunt her down. You would have told him that too, but that wasn’t what he needed right now. You were a bit at a loss how to make it better however. It didn’t seem like he was still hurting or anything so telling him that everything was okay was probably a million miles off.

“She always had her problems,” was all you said in the end.

“I know,” he replied. “All in the past.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Shut down on me.” He released you, cupped your chin and gently tilted your head up so you could look at him. “You used to do that when we were kids as well.”

“I swear that I wasn’t! But you started this. Not me.”

“So it’s my fault?”

“Basically,” you said with a grin as another idea formed in the back of your head. “So make it up to me.”

“Make it up to you?” His eyes started sparkling with obvious delight. “I’m not going to do what Serk did earlier. I never wanted to outdo him at anything. I know I can do better.”

“That’s not what I was thinking of!” You smacked your hand against his arm first before letting it rest on his bicep. You could not help but give him a light squeeze, briefly imagining how easy it must be for him to lift you up and pin you between himself and the wall. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You’re thinking about it now though.” He brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. “I can see it in your eyes.”

“Doesn’t mean I want you to do it,” you replied. “Not out here anyway.”

“Hmmm.” He leaned forward, his beard tickling against your ear as he kept talking. “What do you want me to do then?” His large hands settled on your hips and he pushed you back against the wall. “You’re gonna have to tell me, princess.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“Maybe.”

Ubbe settled his lips on your neck. All he did was kiss and nip at your skin, but you could feel your heart rate increase already. He briefly reached up to pull the collar of your shirt open, placed his mouth right on the spot where your neck met your shoulder and started sucking on your skin. Despite the fact that the two of you were standing only a short distance away from the red neon light that hung above the entrance to the bar, he covered you in such a way that it would simply look like the two of you were just making out. Besides, crazier stuff must have happened out here anyway.

“This what you had in mind?” he murmured huskily against your neck. Before you could reply, he moved his hands from your hips to your ass. “Or do you want me to take you home?”

“What is it with the two of you and this urge to get me back to your place?” You blurted out with a giggle. “I just wanted you to kiss me.”

“That it?” He peeled his lips away from your neck and pressed his forehead against yours. “Just a kiss?”

“Just a kiss.”

“You sure are easy to please.”

“As you know.” Ubbe never really had to try very hard with you and he knew this. In the past he would always joke about how blissed out you would look even after something as simple as a kiss. You tilted your chin up so that your lips brushed together. “You gonna kiss me or not?”

“Your wish is my command, princess.”

Pushing forward, he closed the small distance and captured your lips. The kiss that he had given you inside earlier had been intense as well, but it had been short and tasted of more. He didn’t have to stop now. He growled against your lips, kissing you so hungrily that it felt like he was trying to devour you. Even when younger Ubbe had often joked that he was like a wolf, something that his parents had recognised at birth and had named him for it. It had always made you laugh, but you could practically feel the resemblance now. If he could have his way, he’d no doubt be tearing your clothes off right now so he could eat you alive.

If he kept this up, you would be tempted to just turn around and let him fuck you right here up against the wall. Your entire head felt fuzzy and it was pretty hard to concentrate on anything other than Ubbe’s tongue which he kept slipping into your mouth. Hvitserk had worked you up to a frenzy not that long ago, but Ubbe was beginning to push you in a similar direction very quickly. One of his hands started sliding down and you knew that you should tell him to stop before you lost your mind completely, but you didn’t. His hot palm was on your bare thigh seconds later and then he slid it up, dipping his fingers into your panties so he could touch your bare skin.

“You’re burning up,” he groaned against your lips.

“Sure feels like it.”

“Want me to do something about it?”

It sure would be tempting to simply say “yes”. And oh so easy. Just one word. Just that little affirmative answer and he’d do something about this heat that he was gradually stoking inside of you. Your body was practically screaming at you to just say “yes”, to get it over with and stop putting it off. You could have what you wanted. Right here and right now. All you had to do was…

“Oh hell no!” You pulled your lips away from him, because you recognized that voice. “You little slut!”

“Am not!”

“Yeah, you are!” Svana was making rude gestures at the pair of you from the entrance with a big smile on her face. “Get back in here. We just bought another round. As for you,” she was pointing straight at Ubbe now. “We bought your ass a beer, so you’d better finish it before we let your brother have it.” She cackled loudly and then disappeared without waiting to see what the two of you were going to do.

“What do you want to do?” Now that his lips weren’t on yours anymore, it was a lot easier to think. When you didn’t answer straight away, he pinched your ass once before removing his hand from your underwear. “Go back in?”

“Be a shame to waste those drinks.”

“I guess.” He held his hand out to you and you took it without hesitation. “One thing though, you’re having dinner at our place tomorrow. Just to avoid any more interruptions.” You could feel all the hairs on your arm stand on end the second the words were out of his mouth. Just the thought of an evening with the two of them with no one around to stop them… your brain already went into overdrive. “Deal?”

“Sure. Sounds good.”

Right before the two of you passed through the entrance, Ubbe pushed you up against the wall right next to it very quickly and gave you one final hungry kiss that took your breath away.

It very much felt like a little taster to what could happen the following evening if you’d let him keep going.

*****

After the night you’d had, you were glad to be back in your hotel room.

When you and Ubbe had gone back inside to join your friends, you found that Hvitserk and Ivar had already joined them and the rest of the evening was filled with even more alcohol and witnessing some incredibly bad dancing from Hvitserk’s end.

Switching the light on in the small bathroom, you looked at yourself in the mirror and came to the conclusion that you looked like absolute shit. You stripped out of your clothes, dropped them on the floor and left them there. It wasn’t of the utmost importance that you fold them up right this minute anyway. You had already hung a slinky, spaghetti strapped nightshirt on a peg on the door. It had been packed in case you managed to get lucky sometime during this short trip and the way things were looking after tonight, there was a definite chance that you would.

Make-up removed and teeth brushed, you headed back into the room and promptly dropped face first into the bed. You spread yourself out over the mattress and pressed your face into the sheets. It was a good thing that you didn’t have anything planned until tomorrow evening (technically this evening), because you probably wouldn’t wake up until midday.

You’d been about to doze off when you heard your mobile. You swore and reached for it and stared at the screen. Unknown caller. You groaned and shoved it underneath the pillow. Probably a wrong number or some bad joke from one of your drunk friends. It kept ringing until it switched over to voicemail and you sighed deeply when it stopped, completely ready to let sleep overtake you…

It started ringing again. By now you were determined to ignore it, but as soon as it stopped, you kept hearing your ringtone kick back to life. Whoever it was, they would not allow you to fall asleep until you’d picked up. After the fourth time, you dug it out from under the pillow and answered.

“What!” The annoyance in your voice was unmistakable and you’d been about to start swearing about how this had better be really fucking important when you heard a familiar voice on the other end.

“That’s no way to greet an old friend.”

“Ivar?” You rolled over until you were laying on your back. “What the hell? Do you know what time it is?”

“4:48.”

“Jesus Christ. Why are you calling me? And how did you get my number anyway?”

“Ubbe gave it to me.” You’d exchanged numbers with Ubbe after he’d invited you round to have dinner with him and Hvitserk since he had promised to pick you up. “You didn’t want me to have it?”

“I didn’t say that.” You didn’t mind. Ivar would probably end up getting your number sooner or later anyway, but he still hadn’t mentioned why he had decided that now was a good time to call you. “I don’t know why you’re calling me, but can’t it wait until later?”

“No. I need to talk to you now.”

“Okay, fine,” you said with a sigh. You had known Ivar for long enough to know that he was the type of person that would end up getting his way no matter what and if Ivar wanted to talk to you, that would be exactly what would happen. It didn’t matter if you were too tired, you just had to get over it and accept it. “What is it?”

“What are you wearing anyway?”

“Ivar! What the fuck! I’m not telling you that.” You started laughing and was waiting for him to join in to let you know that he had asked you that question to be funny, but he never did. “Get to the point. Why are you calling me?”

“I was just thinking of you in that ridiculous outfit.”

“Oh. And you figured you’d call me to tell me about it?”

“Yes. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep after seeing that and I don’t think you should either.”

“Okaaaay…” You stretched out the word and found yourself wondering what else was going to be coming out of his mouth. “So what should I be doing instead?”

“Touch yourself.” For a few seconds you weren’t entirely sure that you’d heard him correctly, somehow convinced that you were imagining this entire conversation because you were so sleep deprived. But then he said your name in a low voice and asked, “Are you still there?”

“Y-yes.” You didn’t know why he was asking you to do this, but it had to be a joke to see if you’d actually do it. That was the only logical explanation. “D-did you just ask me to…”

“Touch yourself, yes.” He paused for a few seconds while you were still waiting for him to tell you that this was all a joke, that he had just been having some fun, but then he continued. “But you were wrong.”

“Oh? About what?”

“I wasn’t asking you, I was telling you.”

“Ivar, you can’t just call me at five in the morning and tell me t-”

“Yes, I can.” He cut you off before you could finish your sentence. “Touch yourself. I am not telling you again.”

“Ivar, fuck.” Hearing the command in his voice was working for you in ways that you had never thought possible. You pressed the index finger of your free hand against your neck, just below your ear, and started trailing it down. “This is insane.”

“Are you touching yourself, kitten?”

“Y-yes.” This really was a dream. You were having some kind of vivid sexual dream involving the kid that used to sit in the little red trailer behind your bike as he screamed at you to go faster. And now that same kid, all grown up by now, was initiating phone sex with you. “I am.”

“Where?”

“My collarbone.” Your finger had pressed into the dip above your sternum and had started trailing outward.

“Child’s play.” Ivar sounded less than impressed with you. “Are your nipples hard?”

“Ivar!”

“What?” You heard him chuckle on the other end. “Well? Are they?”

You looked down at your chest and could see your nipples pressing up against the silky fabric of your nightshirt. “Yes.”

“So touch them instead.” Despite the fact that he couldn’t see whether you were doing it or not, you thought that he would probably be able to tell if you were ignoring what he was telling you to do. “Your collarbone. Honestly.” You whimpered when your finger brushed up against the hardened nub. “Feel good?” You made an affirmative noise. “Squeeze.” You did as he asked again and stifled a moan. “Don’t do that.”

“W-what?”

“I want to hear you.” You repeated the movement and this time you didn’t try to silence yourself. “Good.” You could hear the pride in his voice. “Now move your hand down lower.”

Your hand skimmed down your stomach, moving down ever lower until your fingers brushed over your mound and you sighed deeply when your hand dipped down in between your legs. When you pressed against your covered core, you could feel that your underwear was already damp and you set to lazily rubbing your fingers up and down. Little gasps and moans kept tumbling from your lips and you gripped your mobile tighter in your hand.

“Did I tell you that you could do that?” Your hand stopped moving instantly and you made sure that Ivar heard how displeased you were. “No. I didn’t say that you could move your hand down that low.” Since you could somehow tell that it was coming, you pulled your hand away and moved it next to you to grip the sheets instead. “Start again.”

“From where?”

“Your collarbone.”

“I thought that was child’s play?”

“Just do it,” he replied mercilessly. “And don’t talk back. Good girls do whatever they’re told.”

“And who told you that I was a good girl?” He wasn’t in the room with you so you could be a little bit defiant. “Good girls don’t necessarily give guys blowjobs in restrooms.”

“Probably not.”

Without any warning, the call suddenly disconnected. You stared at your screen in confusion. Why would Ivar get you all hot and bothered like that only to hang up on you? So now you had to finish it yourself and then you could finally fall asleep. You’d been about to do just that when your phone started ringing again. When you looked at the screen, you saw that someone wanted to video call you. You swiped your thumb over the screen and the next thing you knew Ivar’s face came into view.

“You thought that I was going to leave you hanging, weren’t you?”

“I kinda did yeah.”

“I just wanted to see with my own eyes that you were going to do what I told you.” Ivar bit his lower lip. It was a move that was almost a little bit too calculated to come across as natural, but you didn’t really mind. It only made you wish that he was in the room with you so you could feel those lips on yours. “Now show me what you are wearing.”

You moved the phone up a little bit higher and slowly tilted it downward. There was a lace trim at the top of your nightshirt and the rest was made of a pink silky material. It didn’t exactly leave much to the imagination. You had your legs pulled up so he couldn’t see your underwear properly and you could see a slight frown crease his brow.

“Open your thighs.” You parted your legs slowly and made sure that he could see your panties. They didn’t match your nightshirt, but when you heard him whistle through his teeth it was made clear that he didn’t particularly care that you weren’t wearing a matching set. “Nice.”

“You like it?”

“A lot. Let me see your face again.” You moved the screen back up and smiled at him. “I want you to take it off now.”

“My nightshirt?”

“Everything.” He could probably see the hesitation on your face and you saw his eyes soften. “Would you do that for me, kitten?”

“Just my top.” You saw his other hand move into view for a few seconds, gesturing at you to continue. You put the phone down next to you, pushed yourself up into a sitting position and removed your top. Moving back into view of your phone, you sat in such a way that Ivar could see that you were half naked now without letting him see your bare chest. “See?”

“But not enough.” One corner of his mouth curled up in an almost wicked grin. “Just a peek.” You knew where this was heading, that much was obvious, but you had never done anything like this before and it made you apprehensive. “Do you want me to say please?”

“I’m not so sure you can say please.” You lay back down, moved one of your arms so it covered your breasts and grabbed the phone again. You held it high above you so he could see your face and the top of your chest. “Like this?”

“You’re not giving me a lot to work with here.” He sounded unimpressed so you moved your hand, aiming it down lower so he could see the arm that you were covering yourself with. “Move your arm.” You briefly closed your eyes and took in a deep breath to steady yourself, but didn’t pull your arm away. He said your name and you looked up at his face again. “Please?”

Very slowly, you spread your fingers so a single nipple appeared between them. His tongue peeked out from between his lips to swipe over his bottom lip. You saw his lips move, but before he could say anything you started circling the pebbled nub with one of your fingers. Ivar’s pupils were so big by now that you could barely make out the blue in his eyes anymore. You couldn’t help but wonder if he would come over if you were to ask him to.

“Move your arm.” You took a deep breath and very slowly started moving your arm down until it was resting right underneath your breasts. Ivar tried to hide it, but you saw his eyes widen ever so slightly and then he uttered a low, “Fuck.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What are you wearing?” He didn’t respond immediately, he merely looked amused that you even asked him this, so you tried to make your next words sound as commanding as possible. “Show me.”

Ivar kept his eyes on yours for a few seconds longer and just when you thought that he wasn’t going to show you anything at all, he slowly tilted the phone down to show you that his chest was already bare. You’d already felt it back at the bar when he pulled you closer to him a couple of times after he and his brothers had joined your group of friends, but my god, he was ripped. You’d been paying such attention to his chest and the tattoos that covered part of it, that you hadn’t noticed that his other arm wasn’t visible. In fact you might even have noticed that there was slight movement coming from that side of his chest, but sadly you hadn’t.

The camera moved down over his stomach and you found yourself wanting to know how his skin would feel against the palm of your hands as you skimmed them down his chest. It wasn’t until you caught sight of trimmed hairs that led down that you noticed that he wasn’t wearing any underwear either. And then, without any prior warning, his cock suddenly came into view. You saw it for a few seconds, your mind only barely registering how hard he was and how slowly he was stroking himself before he disappeared from view and you started swearing.

“Fuck! Dammit!” You rubbed your forehead and heard him doing his utmost not to burst out in laughter on the other end. “Not funny, Ivar.”

“I am sorry, kitten.” He cleared his throat, chuckled one more time and then asked, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Dropped my goddamn phone.”

“Look at me.” You rolled on your side to grab your mobile and propped it up against a pillow so he could still have a clear view of your face. It also meant that you would not be able to drop the damn thing on yourself again. You definitely didn’t want to explain a possible black eye to Ubbe and Hvitserk tomorrow. “Were you that shocked?”

“Wasn’t expecting you to be naked,” you replied, feeling mighty stupid about yourself right now. “That’s all.”

“So… now that you know that I’m naked…”

“I’m not going to be showing you my pussy.”

“I am shocked that you even thought that.” He even gasped, but you didn’t believe him. That fucker always kept a very tight lid on his emotions. No way that something like that would shock him. “You could still take your underwear off though.”

“I could.” When you didn’t move, Ivar started pouting. Very much like before, it was such a practiced move. How many times had he done something like that before to get what he wanted? “You sly fucker.”

“What did I do?”

“Shut up. As if you don’t know.” His mouth broke out into a wide grin and you shook your head. “You are such a dick, Ivar.” When you saw him open his mouth to speak, you cut him off. “Don’t say it.”

“Say what?”

“If you were going to say anything about how nice your dick looks, I swear that I’ll hang up.”

“I wasn’t going to say that, but thanks.” You groaned for even voicing that opinion out loud. You really had to learn to think before you speak, especially around someone like Ivar. “What kind of guy would say that?”

“Have you met Serk?”

“Good point,” he said with a chuckle. “I was just going to ask you to take your panties off again.”

“You always were a persistent little shit.” Why not give him what he wanted? You weren’t going to shove the phone in between your legs to show him that you were entirely naked, you’d made that clear already. “Tell me. Don’t ask me.”

“Hmmm. So you like that, do you?” His grin turned practically feral now that you’d given him a piece of information that he would likely use against you at some other point in the future. “Take your panties off. Now.”

“Yes, sir.” The word was out of your mouth before you even realised it and when you did, your cheeks flushed bright red. “Oh my god… I-I am so s-sorry… that was…”

“Hot?” Your horrified expression only amused him more and he started laughing. “You can call me that anytime, kitten.”

“I wasn’t…”

“But I did tell you to do something, didn’t I?”

And then the command was back. When an involuntary moan escaped your lips, he drew attention to his own lips again by running his tongue over his plump bottom lip. You mouthed the word “fuck” before reaching down and sliding your underwear down your legs. When they were off, you moved them into view of your phone to show him that you were now entirely naked and hearing him groan softly on the other end felt strangely good.

“Ivar?”

“What is it, kitten?”

“If you’re going to tell me to touch my collarbone again, I’ll kill you.”

“Impatient.” Before he could tell you to do anything, you’d already slid your hand between your legs and you made sure that he heard the sound that you made when your fingers finally came into contact with your soaking wet pussy. “Fine. I’ve been touching myself for a while so I’ll allow it.”

“You’ll allow it? Gee, thank you, Ivar.”

“I can be merciful,” he replied without a hint of embarrassment. “What are you doing?”

“Touching myself.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”

“Lord. This is kinda…” You squeezed your eyes shut and bucked your hips up against your hand. “Fuck.” His laboured breathing was starting to propel you closer to reaching a climax and when you opened your eyes to look at the screen again, you could tell that he probably didn’t need much more either. “I’m so wet,” you half moaned. “Wish you were here so you could… replace my fingers… with your tongue…”

“Oh y-yeah?”

“Mmmm.” You moved your hand away from yourself, quickly replacing it with your other hand and then held your arousal soaked fingers up to the screen. “See that?” His lips were moving, but no sound was coming out. You kept eye contact with him when you sucked your digits into your mouth, moaning as you did so. You moved your fingers in and out of your mouth, determined to give him some kind of show.

“I need to feel those pretty lips of yours…” He was finally able to talk now. “...wrapped around my cock.” You released your fingers with a loud pop and then presented your tongue to him, to mimic that you were doing something else entirely. “Just like that,” he said with a grin. “Bet you’d look good on your knees.”

“In my… skirt…”

“Yeah…” It was getting more and more difficult for him to talk now, you could tell, but he was still trying. “I’m so…”

Ivar never finished his sentence. All that came out was a low guttural growl and then he was done. His eyes were closed and his breathing was heavy as he came down from his high. You kept your eyes focused on his lips and his tongue that kept darting out to moisten them. When he finally opened his eyes, within seconds he knew what you’d been looking at.

“Kitten.” He practically purred the word at you and you could feel your muscles twitch involuntarily. Your movements increased, rubbing harder as the pressure continued to build. “I should just come over so I can make you come with my mouth and my fingers.” Your face started to feel hot and you gasped loudly. You were close. So close. “And then, if you’ve been a good girl, I might even fuck you.” He paused for a few seconds, his blue eyes locked on yours. “But only if you’ve been really good.”

“Oh my god…” One last circular movement around your clit, that was all you needed. You squeezed your eyes shut and all but wailed the words as your legs started shaking, your muscles spasming, your toes curling against the blanket. “Shit, shit, shit…”

You were aware of Ivar’s soft chuckle somewhere in the background, but it was hard to focus on anything after orgasming that hard. If it was already this good, what the hell was it going to be like if he was actually in the room with you? If he actually pressed that thick cock of his into you and growled into your ear what a good girl you were? The sheer thought of it was almost enough to make you come again.

Finally cracking an eye open, you looked at the screen to find Ivar’s blue eyes focused on you. One corner of your mouth curled up and then you wiped the sweat off your brow that had accumulated there. “Fuck. That was amazing,” you said with a breathy laugh. “I’m exhausted.”

“I can tell,” he said quietly. “Will you be able to sleep or do you need me for something else?”

Wait. Was he angling for an invitation here? You looked at the alarm clock that was on the bedside table. The red glowing numbers had the time at 5:16 in the morning.

“Nope.” You decided to play dumb. “Why? Did you want to talk?”

“Talk? No.” He chuckled softly in reply and ran his hand down his face. “So that’s how it’s going to be?”

“Yep.” You rolled over on your side and blew a kiss at the camera. “Good night, Ivar.”

Before he could say anything in reply, you had already disconnected the call and then pressed your face into the pillow as you laughed. Your phone started beeping almost immediately. You saw a message illuminate the screen and you unlocked it to reply.

The message read: That was rude.

Since you hadn’t had a chance to add his number to your contact list, you were seeing nothing but his phone number so you added him so you could at least see his name.

Good night, Ivar.

You saw that he was typing back and it didn’t take him long to send a reply. Good night, kitten. You were going to reply, but saw dots appear again. I’ll have to teach you some manners the next time we see each other.

A shiver ran down your spine when you read his message. You wondered what he was planning, but knowing him it would probably be good.

Good night, Ivar. And I’m looking forward to it.

He didn’t send you any more messages and you fell into a deep sleep shortly after while clutching your mobile tightly.

[jamiemackenziefraser]

All That Was Fair

Chapter 23: Wings of a Flutterby

Summary: “Jamie had always considered the presence of a flutterby to be a blessing.”

Read on AO3

Read chp 23 on tumblr below the cut

Previous, master list, next

A/n: After seeing a very cute thread on twitter about how Jamie canonically calls butterflies "flutterbys," I had to make the addition to this chapter because it was too soft to pass up. So, inspired by @Sassenach7471, thanks for reminding me of this sweetness!

Chapter 23: Wings of a Flutterby

***

Claire lay on her stomach in front of Jamie in the middle of the living room floor, her arms folded underneath her head as she lazed. Jamie, for his part, sat cross-legged behind her, completely and utterly enamored. 

The dress she was wearing had a large open back, covered only by tiny straps, which left her beautiful, translucent wings exposed. Jamie’s fingers were delicately tracing the edge of them where they lay flat on her back. They were so incredibly soft, so delicate, that Jamie could only bring himself to give them the barest hint of a touch. But he was entranced. 

He’s always been told never to touch the wings of a flutterby for fear of damaging them, so when Claire had given him permission to touch hers (after he'd gaped open-mouthed at her in that dress), it felt so deliciously forbidden. Even though he’d never exactly touched a flutterby’s wings before, he’d felt them flap against his skin as the flutterby hovered around him, the flitting sensation of softness before it was gone, out of reach. Claire’s wings felt much the same as he’d imagine a flutterby’s would if he could touch them in this way, only Claire kept hers still and on display for him to pay due reverence. 

Jamie had always seen the presence of a flutterby as a blessing— if they were near him, it was because of their choice, not his. He remembered as a kid being out in his mother’s garden, sitting as still as possible in hopes that one might land on him in passing. 

Claire was much the same. An ethereal creature that somehow had landed on his life, had chosen him… him… over anything else, giving herself fully and utterly without hesitation. 

Growing more bold, he trailed a finger down across one of the silvery veins that stretched across her wing. Claire gave a little shudder, making Jamie pause, but it was followed immediately by a contented sigh. 

“How does it feel?” Jamie asked as he continued to wander the surface of her wing with gentle exploratory touches. 

“Hmmn… nice,” Claire hummed. 

Jamie spared a glance up at her face to find her eyes were closed. Her cheek was squished just slightly where it lay against her arm, and Jamie nearly melted at the sight.  

“Like when I touch yer skin?” he probed. In demonstration, he brought his fingers to the skin of her back in between her wings, smoothing them down along the bumps of her spine. 

She shivered again, shifting her head, and then answered dreamily, “no. It’s different. I can’t really explain, it’s like… my wings are more… sensitive.” 

Jamie hummed in acknowledgement and returned his touch to her wings. They fluttered a little at the unexpected sensation, flitting against his hands, and that only served to make him more eager. As they settled again, Jamie began drawing absent circles over the surface with his fingertips. 

They weren’t paper thin, but still so heartbreakingly delicate. Their golden hue seemed to shimmer in the light from the window, although it was soft and barely noticeable if he hadn’t been studying them so closely. He couldn't get enough. 

It was unreal. 

His body was nearly trembling with excitement over this strange experience. As relaxed as Claire was, Jamie was pulsing with energy, thrilled by this newfound intimacy. He could touch her forever and never tire of it— wings or no. The thought that this strange creature was his awed him to no end... 

Absorbed as he was, he barely even noticed Claire was moving until she had sat up, her wings fluttering freely as she did. Jamie drew back, not wanting to hurt her as they moved, and he sat watching like a besotted fool as she turned to him. 

Her eyes seemed glazed with serenity, her whole posture carefree and relaxed. His touch had melted her into a puddle of soft warmth, and Jamie came to the realization that she was about to be all over him the second before she did just that.

She moved slowly but nonetheless insistently, and Jamie found himself absolutely covered in faerie a second later. She had straddled him and pushed him down on the floor as Jamie obediently relented. He let her drape herself over him as he leaned back, staring up at her in enrapturement. The second he was laying on the ground, Claire spread out at length upon him, she purred, “It’s your turn.” 

A dhia. 

“What?” He sputtered, his brain having halted all proper function at the feeling of her body spread on top of him. 

Lord give him strength. 

“It’s your turn,” she repeated, “On your front.” 

Jamie’s brain snapped back into his head as he realized what she was asking. Getting himself in check through some monumental force of will, Jamie managed to smile up at the hooded eyes above him. 

“Lass, I canna turn over when ye’re on top of me.” 

Claire was too tranquil to laugh or flush. She just hummed in acknowledgement, brushed her nose against Jamie’s once (making his wame twist), and then removed herself from his body. 

Jamie mourned the loss instantly, but he turned over onto his stomach as ordered, mirroring the position Claire had just been in, lounging on his front. 

As soon as he was settled, soft wee hands slid under his tee shirt, pushing it up. Then, lips met skin. 

He had to resist the impulse to jerk away as she kissed the scars, her lips warm and tender. No one had ever touched him fondly there— before her— and never in his life had he imagined someone kissing him the ugly evidence of his pain. 

Her lips touched the scarred flesh again, this time further up, and Jamie shivered. Gooseflesh broke out along his arms as her hand smoothed down the length of his back. She took her time, her touch gentle and intentional. 

“You’re so beautiful,” she said reverently. 

Every insecurity in Jamie screamed at him to deny it, to say something to the contrary, or even just joke about getting her eyesight checked. But the next brush of lips made the words die in his throat. He simply remained silent as tears gathered in his eyes. 

Her fingers traced the criss-cross of his scars for a long time, easing the tension from his muscles with her soft touch until Jamie was just as relaxed as his faerie. 

He wasn’t expecting it when a solid weight rested on his back, and he realized she’d laid her head down on him. 

“I love you,” she said softly, her fingers still tracing over his shoulder blade, “all of you.” 

Jamie wished that he were sitting up— or anywhere that he wasn’t trapped like this— so he could embrace her as he answered, “that means more than ye know, mo nighean donn.” 

Her hand smoothed back and forth over his side in response. He could feel her breathing— slow and deep— against him. 

“Dinna fall asleep on me there, lass,” he joked quietly. 

“I’m not.” She answered so softly that he wasn’t entirely convinced of the validity of the statement. “I just want you to know that I love every part of you.” 

The warmth in Jamie’s chest could have melted even the most ancient ice. Claire’s loving his scars couldn’t take away his insecurities— couldn’t magically heal the years of hating his body— but she gave him hope that one day he might be able to love himself with even a fraction of the intensity with which she loved him. 

Jamie pushed up on his elbows (Claire letting out a displeased noise at his disruption), and he hastily sat up to take her into his arms as he’d been wishing to do ever since she’d begun her ministrations. 

She went willingly as he pulled her into his chest, and they stayed pressed together as two parts of the same whole, serenity wrapped around them with the comfort of a blanket. 

*** 

Later that day, Jamie finally had the chance to introduce Claire to the wonders of literature. After finding out weeks ago that the fair folk didn’t have a written language, Jamie had been positively itching to introduce Claire to some of his favorite books. The choice had been brutal—Jamie being the book lover that he was— but finally, he had decided on Lord of the Rings. 

As soon as the decision had been made, he’d begun to prepare Claire, telling her everything he could think of about reading and books and human literature so she’d be ready before hearing the story. 

When the time finally came— and Claire had draped herself over Jamie’s lap, holding onto his neck and laying her head on his shoulder so she could stare the book as he read— Jamie found it rather hard to concentrate on the words. He had to block out her touches and reactions in order to give her the proper experience of hearing him read. After not too long, Jamie began to get the hang of it— it’d been a long while since he’d read aloud to anyone, but the story came alive as he grew more comfortable. 

Claire had hummed with excitement the whole time, stifling her wonderment into Jamie’s shoulder as he read with enthusiasm. 

“You’re a wonderful story teller, Jamie,” she praised during a break at the end of a chapter. 

“Thank ye, lass, but it isna so hard when the story is just here in front of me.” 

“You’re getting all that story from there?” she asked, pointing dubiously at the page. 

“Aye, much easier than remembering the whole thing,” he answered. 

She’d pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You humans are so sweet,” she said fondly, “we just treasure everything worth telling inside of us.” 

“Oh lass,” Jamie said, “I canna wait until ye hear more. There’s so much out there, more than we could ever remember ourselves. I’ll make a bookworm out of ye yet.” 

Getting back to business, Jamie squeezed Claire closer with his free arm and resumed reading. Her attention soon shifted from the page (which was meaningless to her) and instead rested on Jamie’s face as he read. He found himself distracted by her regard and her wandering hands that were doing their best to draw him away from his reading. 

“A nighean,” he said at one point, looking away from the book to level her with a mock stern look. Her hand froze over his nose where she’d been tracing up and down the bridge of it, “I canna concentrate on reading.” 

“Oh,” she said, abashed, withdrawing her hands, “sorry.” 

“Are ye enjoying the story so far, a leannan?” he asked. He had to prepare himself for the possibility that he was boring her, although hearing her say out loud that she didn’t like Lord of the Rings would probably break his heart. 

“I love it!” she exclaimed quickly, straightening herself against him, “it’s amazing. I’m sorry, please keep going.” 

“Okay,” he chuckled, “maybe jes’ let me focus on the reading for a bit, aye?” 

*

After they’d finished their section of reading— Jamie closing the book as if parting from an old friend— Claire pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek. 

“Thank you for telling me your story,” she said softly. 

He couldn’t help but laugh at hearing it referred to as “his,” but he didn’t have it in his heart to correct her outright. 

“We’ll read more of Tolkien’s story another time. Would ye like that?” 

She nodded enthusiastically, her curls bouncing and her smile melting his heart all over again. How could anyone ever look at her and not love her?— he wondered. He would spend all day, every day pouring out his soul just to see a glimpse of that smile. 

“Would ye tell me a story of the fair folk?” Jamie asked suddenly, longing to experience a part of her world as she was experiencing his. 

She raised up from where her head had just rested back on his shoulder. 

“I would love to tell you a story, Jamie,” she said, but something about the tone of her voice seemed… off. Was she sad? Had bringing up her home been a mistake? “But later. I don’t know, I… I don’t really feel much like storytelling at the moment.”

“That’s alright, a leannan,” Jamie reassured, “I just want ye to ken how much I care about yer stories too.” 

Claire wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her head underneath his jaw, squeezing tightly. 

“I love you, Jamie,” she said. 

“I love you more, mo nighean donn.”

***

Next

[rockinggirl06]

TRULY MADLY DEEPLY 💕

✨A Jily Songfic Oneshot✨

Wattpad + Tumblr Masterlist

Likes liked ! Reblogs adored ! Comments LOVED ! + Stealing is a crime !

Warnings: none ! Pure beautiful fluff !

Note: I highly recommend keeping the song on repeat on Spotify while reading the oneshot =)

- -

A one-shot inspired by and about Jily's wedding night and after. A James POV in verse. A Lily POV in chorus.

- -

Am I asleep, am I awake, or somewhere in between?

The boy woke up from his slumber. Shaking his head, he tried to recollect the memories of the night before. A cheeky grin enveloped his features as the thoughts of the day before flooded his mind.

I can't believe that you are here and lying next to me

His eyes fell upon the redheaded angel-like face, her chest heaving slightly up and down with every breath. He ran his fingers through his jet-black hair which seemed more untidy than ever due to last night's.. *ahem* activities.

Or did I dream that we were perfectly entwined?

Was this it? Was his mind playing tricks on him? Had it all been a dream? He already found it hard to believe that the girl had actually agreed to go out with him in seventh year..

Like branches on a tree, or twigs caught on a vine?

And now she was under his sheets. His sheets.

Like all those days and weeks and months I tried to steal a kiss

The uncountable times James Fleamont Potter had confessed his undying love for her to which she would just roll her eyes at the boy's childishness. All those times he tried to steal a kiss during their little studying sessions and how she simply would playfully stick out her tongue at him.

And all those sleepless nights and daydreams where I pictured this,

His three mates had grown tired of hearing the lovesick boy's mutterings about how he'd one day marry her. And his parchment and quills were also very  aware of the boy's hopelessness as random doodles with her name entwined always found their way on the corners of essays.

I'm just the underdog who finally got the girl

And there she was. The girl he had chased for as long as he can remember. Bright fiery red hair with a fiery personality to match: Lily Evans.

Potter now, actually.

And I am not ashamed to tell it to the world

The way he spinned her around wih glee when she nodded a tearful yes, the way a certain professor had gotten a wedding invitation with a "PS. I told you she loved me, Minnie." And the way he had sang louder than anyone else in the shower that day possibly making the entire Gryffindor house aware of his joy. The boy was head over heels in love, and well, she was falling too.

---

Truly, madly, deeply, I am

And he was on his knee. A gasp escaped from her mouth. This was the moment. Their moment. All her subtle stolen glances at him and the way he made her heart flutter everytime a teasing 'Evans' drawed from his lips.. all of that had lead to this. Tears lined her eyes as she nodded a yes.

Foolishly, completely falling

As a friendship blossomed between the destined pair, they took on their head boy and head girl duties. Potter had stopped with his continual display of affections to the girl and yet now the girl had started falling. Hard. Maybe she always liked him along the way. And it definitely didn't help how much taller and handsome he had grown over the summer.

And somehow you kicked all my walls in

And one day she couldn't help herself. On a patrol as usual as ever, she pinned the boy against the wall and kissed him. All those walls set up came crashing down as their lips crashed.

So baby, say you'll always keep me

After breaking apart, a red hue similar to her hair took over her corsage as the boy simply grinned in amusement and euphoria, and teased, "Alright there, Evans?"

Did she really hate the messy haired boy with the glasses? Nah she didn't.

Truly, madly, crazy, deeply in love with you

With all the roses and candles the boy had set up at their first night together as husband and wife, she couldn't have asked for anything else. And here she was remembering the events of last night where she had pulled his body into hers and made love as he kissed each and every one of her freckles softly.

In love with you

She was truly in love. In crazy, stupid, cliché, cheesy but beautiful love.

---

Should I put coffee and granola on a tray in bed?

She lay beside him and for the first time, he was confused. What was he supposed to do?? Prepare her breakfast? That would please her, right? His father always cooked for his mother. And he definitely could make a mean omelette.

And wake you up with all the words that I still haven't said?

But would that be the newly wed "husband" thing to do? Maybe he should wake her up murmuring sweet things in her ear? But on the other hand, the last time he woke her up, he'd gotten himself punched square in the jaw. And Evans —Potter! He kept forgetting yet always corrected himself with a shy smile— was rather strong.

And tender touches, just to show you how I feel

His tense shoulders relaxed as he simply admired the sight before him. Caressing her face, he tucked some of her red locks behind her ear as he placed a soft kiss upon her cheek. He could simply count all the freckles on her face over and over again. He'd never get tired of looking at her.

Or should I act so cool like it was no big deal?

Maybe he should just get up and shower. Did girls like it when boys made fuss about this or not? Well, then again, it was their wedding night. All doubts from his head were washed away as she gave a small smile and leaned into the touch of his hand which lay caressing her cheek. Maybe he'd just stay here for a few more moments, he decided.

Wish I could freeze this moment in a frame and stay like this

And to think everyone in the wizarding work knew we were on the brink of war. No! He refused to think of that right now. 'Live in the moment,' his best friend had always told him. And that's what he did. He snuggled closer towards the girl, putting an arm over her gently, and pulled her flush against his bare chest.

I'll put this day back on replay and keep reliving it

He buried his face in the crook of her neck and her sweet flowery scent consumed his senses. Their bodies entangled together beautifully and he couldn't think of a better day to start a day. He could now. He would now wake up every day to the love of his life. Maybe until when they were 100. Yeah, yeah he definitely would, the boy declared in his thoughts.

'Cause here's the tragic truth if you don't feel the same

People might consider it rather childish: the way he would confess his love for her ever since their third year. But he truly meant every love confession to her growing up. Maybe it was the sweet tinkling sound of her laughter, or her adorable pout whenever Flitwick assigned extra homework or Merlin, it was probably that one time she flirted with him after a Quidditch Match which caused him to become infatuated with her forever.

My heart would fall apart if someone said your name

And he truly loved her so much, words were never enough to describe it. He really hoped she felt the same.

---

And truly, madly, deeply, I am

"I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid." She meant that actually. James Potter was definitely an arrogant toerag. But that's the thing. He was.

Somewhere along the way, the prideful egotistic boy had become a caring and proper man.  Her green eyes couldn't help but linger on him more as his usual bullying time was replaced by maturity. That time turned into taking care of his werewolf friend, or even time for comforting his best friend who cried into his arms in the corner of the common room some nights.

And soon enough, a friendship blossomed between the unlikely pair of the redhead and the brunet.

Foolishly, completely falling

And sooner it turned into more..

"Ariel, Ariel uh- let down your window?" One night, a rather confused whisper came from Lily's bedroom window. With a startle the girl rushed to slide up the windowpane and was met with the lopsided grin and the familiar hazel eyes with a playful twinkle looking back at her. "Potter!" She shook her head with a chuckle as she allowed him in. "Evans.. I missed you, okay?" he drawed out sheepishly as he gently pulled her closer by her waist. Heat rose to her cheeks as she looked up at him.

And somehow you kicked all my walls in

The boy leaned down towards her lips unable to resist the girl any longer but Lily turned away at the last moment (resulting a rather sad pout on the boy's lips) as she heard her name being called downstairs. "Lily! Next time your boyfriend wants to visit at 12 am, tell him to use the door, okay? My rose bushes are ruined!!"

So baby, say you'll always keep me

And now she was waking up beside him.

She meekly opened her right eye to see if her husband —yes, husband she reminded herself proudly—was still asleep. A lazy smile on his lips, she was greeted with a drawl in his low morning voice, "Good morning, Evans."

Truly, madly, crazy, deeply in love with you

His infuriating smirks had now grown into breathtaking smiles. And he gave her one right now earning a blush upon the girl's cheeks. In his arms and close was exactly where Lily wanted to be. She smiled back endearing and simply looked at him with awe, treasuring the moment, before closing the distance between them. As she pecked his soft lips, she murmured into them, 'Potter, actually."

She was his and him, hers.

All was well.

Anyone catch the ending words reference? The first time I heard this song some months ago (maybe even a year oop—) , I just knew it SCREAMED #Jily. And so here I am finally writing and publishing this !

Thanks for reading and love you all you beautiful people !

Riri <3

[that-sarcastic-slytherin]

Help Me Forget

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader x Tony Stark

- - -

The streets were busy and lively as you pushed your way through, desperate to fight the crowds and return to the safety of your home.

It had been a relatively normal day, a good day, up until you had stumbled across one little happening. 

Up until you had seen them.

As you walked briskly on the darkened pavement, you tried frantically to rid your mind of the troubling thought, but no matter how hard you tried, the images kept flooding right back.

Your eyes filled with tears as you recalled the unfortunate incident.

You had gone out on a food run for the group, it was a usual occurrence and it just so happened to be your turn. You had turned up at the restaurant to pick up your order, when you saw something that made you freeze in your tracks.

Sitting on a table not too far away, was Steve. Much to your shock, he was not alone. He was sitting across from a unfamiliar woman, looking very cosy. Too cosy. 

When you had first seen him, you thought you had imagined it. Perhaps, you had mistook a stranger for the Captain. No. You soon realised that you had seen right.

The sight had shocked you so much, that you turned around and speedily left the restaurant. The food long forgotten.

Returning back to the present moment, as you made your way back home, you had more time to process what had happened, but it only made it worse.

You and Steve had a history, to say the least. You had joined the Avengers not long before the attack on Ultron. The former solider was kind and gentle to you, two things that you had never been very familiar with, given your harsh background. You had found comfort in his warm personality, and you soon became good friends. Shortly after, friendship had blossomed into something more, and the two of you were known around the tower, as the 'power couple,' of the group. You were inseparable, and highly protective of each other. You were in love. Plain and simple.

However, your loving relationship came crashing down when you had got badly injured in an assignment. It was risky to begin with, but Fury had needed all of the team. You had been fighting off a gang of radical soldiers with Natasha, when the Hulk had a huge break out, he had lost control and the team needed Natasha to get to him, quick. Subsequently, Steve made the call for Natasha to go to Banner and go through their lullaby.

What he didn't know, was that you were left alone with a very large group of bloodthirsty lunatics.

You had given the best you could, but there had been too many for you to fight off. By the time Natasha had warned Steve that you were on your own, it was too late.

Steve and Tony arrived to see you on the floor, unconscious, with blood pouring out from gaping wounds. They had rushed you back to the jet and straight to the hospital at S.H.I.E.L.D., where you underwent intense treatment, but had also slipped into a coma.

For weeks Steve sat with you, begging you to wake up. The image of how he had found you haunted him deeply, he knew he would never be able to forget what he did. When you finally woke up, you didn't remember much about the attack, which turned out to be a blessing. 

However, you also woke up to a very broken man.

Steve was left traumatised after the event. No matter how hard you or any other of the avengers tried, he could not and would not accept that he was not responsible to what had happened to you. He blamed himself entirely. He could not live with the fact that he had caused you any sort of pain of injury. He could not bear the guilt and shame. 

As an unfortunate result, Steve had made the painful decision to distance himself from you. He had told you that he could not be with you anymore, that you deserved better than him, that you needed someone who could always protect you.

Needless to say, you had not taken it very well. At all. You thought he was being too hard on himself, to the point where it was ridiculous. He was being infuriatingly stubborn, and you told him as much, but he would not listen. He had made up his mind. He hated himself for putting you in danger, and it was too difficult for him to be around you, knowing that truth.

The two of you had been separated for a little over six months now. You thought that you had finally come to a place where you could deal with it better. It was hard and painful at times, but you had tried your best to come to a place of acceptance, knowing that he was not going to change his mind. 

However, seeing him, the man that you had loved, the man who had detached himself from you, seeing him with another woman...and looking so-so happy...it killed you. It hurt you in ways that you didn’t expect. The pain that you felt in your heart, reminded you just how much you still loved him. 

You were also angry. Very angry. 

You couldn’t believe that he had the audacity to do that to you, to simply find someone else and move on...casting you aside.

As you marched back into the tower, you had one single bitter thought in mind; ‘if he can move on so quickly, then so can I!’

The elevator doors rolled back when you reached the main floor. You took a deep breath then strolled into the allotment, very much aware of the multiple pairs of eyes upon you.

“Hey, Y/N,” greeted Clint from his seat on the sofa, but you ignored him, causing him and Natasha to exchange a concerned glance.

Piertro, who was over by the bar, noticed your empty hands and frowned. “Where is the food?”

“Didn’t get it.” Was all you replied, as you continued to stalk through the floor, passing by all your perplexed friends. 

Piertro pouted sadly. “Aw, but I’m hungry.”

Wanda rolled her eyes at her brother. “You’re always hungry.”

“What? I have a really fast metabolism.”

Bruce couldn’t help but pipe up at the scientific inconsistency. “Actaully, that has nothing to do with how your appetite works...”

You left the room as if you had never even heard them, your mind bubbling with too many things.

Noticing the hard glare that you were wearing as you walked away, Clint asked the others, “what was that all about?”

You walked up the stairs to your own floor, but didn’t go into your room. No. Instead, you stopped right outside a black, shiny door, and quickly knocked on it. The door opened and Tony stared back at you in momentary confusion, before registering that it was you.

He quickly fixed a charming smirk onto his handsome face. “Hi, sweetheart.”

You didn’t reply but gazed at him with semi-guarded emotions. He saw the pain in your eyes that you were half-halfheartedly trying to hide, and immediately sobered.

“Whats wrong, Y/N?”

You shook your head, not being able to say anything aloud just yet. “Can I come in?” You asked.

Tony answered your question by moving back and gesturing for you to enter, his concern increasing. Wordlessly, you went in and sat down on the large bed, waiting as he joined you.

You just sat there for a few moments, gathering your thoughts. Tony waited patiently, knowing that something had definitely upset you.

Finally, you managed to summon the courage to speak the words out loud.

“I saw Steve...with another woman...”

Your words were left to hang in the air, as Tony tried to process what you said. He looked at you worriedly, but was sure that you had to be mistaken.

“Are you positive it was Cap?”

“Absolutely. I saw them together at the restaurant when I went to get the food.”

Tony couldn’t quite believe it. It didn’t sound like the Cap he knew. “Maybe it wasn’t what you thought, maybe they’re just friends. Or he could have saved her from a burning building, its Cap, that’s kind of his thing. He can’t resist being the hero.”

You didn't laugh at the jesting in his voice, instead you merely looked at him tiredly. "I know what I saw, Tony. Steve is never that comfortable with someone he's just met, not like he was with her. There was familiarity between them, and not just the friendly kind."

Tony was finding it hard to comprehend how Cap, Cap of all people, could be on a date with another girl. A girl that wasn't you...it didn't make sense, and yet, there was no mistaking the striking betrayal that lay in your pretty eyes.

He reached out and rested his arm across your shoulders, drawing you into his side in an attempt to offer you some kind of comfort. He didn't know what he could say to make you feel better, if there was anything at all. The break up had been pretty rough on you, and to learn that the man who caused it had now done this...it made Tony's jaw clench. 

He would punch Cap in his shiny, patriotic face the next time he saw him.

You lay your head on Tony's chest and wrapped your arms around his waist, breathing in his pleasant aroma of aftershave and whisky. As you sat there together, with him gently rubbing your back, an idea formed in your bedraggled mind. An idea that may have seemed incredibly unwise, but one that brought you a twisted sensation of solace and satisfaction.

You lifted your head and angled it towards him, gazing at him with wide eyes. "Tony, if I ask you to do something for me, will you do it?"

He smiled softly. "Anything for you, sweetheart."

You bit your lip as you removed your hands from his waist and brought them up to his chest, clutching his shirt tightly. 

“I need you."

Tony stared back at you in bewilderment, certain that he had misheard, because you couldn't possibly have said what he thought you had. 

“Sorry, what?"

"I...need you," you repeated, judging his reaction carefully.

He was worried you had said that. Under normal circumstances, he would have been only to happy to oblige your request, however, these were not normal circumstances. You were in a highly emotional state and that changed everything.

“You’re clearly not thinking straight.”

“Maybe not,” you agreed. “But so what? I always think things through too much lately and I’m sick of it. Maybe, just one time, I want to do something not so right.

“I cant, Y/N. I can’t.”

Tony shot up from the bed and ran a hand through his hair, glancing at you with obvious temptation. 

“Why not?” You countered, standing up too and going over to him. “Because Steve wouldn't like it? Well, he doesn’t seem to care how I feel right now, so why should I care about him? You saw me, Tony, I was a wreck after he ended things. I kept hoping that he would change his mind, but he never did! Now-now he goes off and finds someone else because it suddenly suits him! Without giving me a second thought!”

Anger, betrayal and anguish laced your voice heavily, making Tony’s wall break down one-by-one. He hated seeing you upset. He wanted to be there for you. You had always been there for him.

You sighed deeply, your eyes silently pleading with him as you wrapped your hand in his.

“Please, Tony. I need to forget. Help me forget.”

No more words were uttered.

Pushing away his final thoughts of conflict, Tony promptly captured your lips in his in a passionate kiss, wrapping his arms around you and backing you over to the bed.

As you lay down, he hovered over you, his eyes conveying the question he needed to be sure of. You nodded hastily in reply, giving him his answer, and he joined your lips again.

The rest of the night was spent in a whirlwind of emotions. Yielding to passions and succumbing to temptations that you knew deep down, you would come to regret. For that moment, you blocked out the rest of the world, as you focused on only you and him.

-

The following morning, you awoke early in Tony's embrace, and instantly felt irritation creep up at yourself for letting things go so far.

There was no taking it back now.

As quietly as you could, you detached yourself from his arms and left his room, clothed only in one of his AC/DC shirts.

Since it was so early, you assumed that no one else would be up yet, so you went down to the kitchen, intending to make yourself a cup of coffee.However, you stopped in your tracks when you saw that you weren't alone. 

Wanda was sat at the breakfast bar...with Steve.

You went to turn around and leave before they saw you, but you found that it was too late, for Wanda called, "good morning, Y/N."

You sighed in frustration but turned back, plastering on a false smile. "Morning."

Upon hearing your name, Steve swivelled around on his stool to look at you, his heart clenching at the sight of you. He couldn't believe how you managed to be so beautiful all the time. It was still so painful for him to have to keep you at a distance, but he had to do it. He couldn't risk you getting hurt again. It was in your best interests.

“Y/N," he greeted with a small smile.

"Rogers."

Steve bit back a wince at your curtness. It felt so strange to hear you be so formal with him. He knew that something was amiss, you hadn't called him that since you first joined the team, and even then it hadn't lasted more than a couple of days.

Wanda handed you a mug of coffee but her eyes scanned your appearance curiously, until it clicked.

“Is that Tony's shirt?"

That made Steve draw his attention to it too, scrutinising it with narrowed eyes.

You glanced down at the oversized garment, hurrying for an explanation. "Yes, I borrowed it a while ago and forgot to give it back, I just threw something on to come and get a drink."

"That's one of Stark's favourite shirts," observed Steve with a deep frown. "It's strange that he doesn't mind you keeping it."

You took a sip of your coffee, trying to stop the panic from rising. "Well, he's a strange guy."

Wanda accepted that as a reasonable response and decide to change the subject, though Steve was still pondering it, he could always tell when you were lying.

"Steve was just telling me about this dinner he went to last night," explained Wanda, unaware that the topic was a sensitive one for you.

"Oh, was he?" You voiced, sarcasm lacing your tone as you sent a small glare his way.

Wanda took that as a prompt to carry on. "Yeah, he met this woman on this old war website, and found out that she was related to-"

"I'll take it from here," Steve interrupted, not knowing how you would react to the information. "I found out that she was a distant relative of Peggy. She wanted to meet me to see if I could tell her anything about her great-aunt, and I felt obliged to."

Your thoughts were screaming at you as you stared at him, not moving.

Steve mistook your silence for anger or hurt. Peggy was always a difficult subject to broach between the two of you. He had managed to move on from his first love by finding you, his true love, but you had always questioned whether he had completely let her go.

He stood up and walked towards you, his expression wary. "Y/N, I only went for the woman's sake. I didn't think it was right to leave her with unanswered questions, to leave her wondering. There wasn't anything more to it than that. I swear. My history with Peggy is just that. History.”

You didn't have time to reply or fully register what this new information meant, because Tony came strutting in, shirtless, and looking immensely pleased with himself. 

“Morning, everyone." He went over to the counter and picked up the piece of toast that Wanda had made for herself, and took a bite out of it. He took notice of the soldier and tried to contain his anger at him for hurting you, so he settled for irritating him.

Tony threw you a wink as he walked back over to go to his room again. On the way out, he said cheekily, "thanks for last night, Y/N."

Your pulse quickened as you looked at the gaping Wanda in front of you, but you were more concerned by the look of utter pain and shock on Steve's face.

He swallowed thickly, his mind filling with every negative thought. 

“You...and...Stark..."

He whispered, willing his voice not to crack. He could feel his heart breaking that very moment.

“I can't believe you would do that..."

Steve's eyes were full of pain, the same pain that you had felt the previous night. He knew he had to leave quickly, before his emotions overcame him.

He gave you one last, broken look, then stalked out of the kitchen, leaving you to watch after him helplessly.

You had messed up. You had messed up badly.

[luffysmeat]

More artist [Name]-san to clean our souls! 💕 I hope you enjoy this! I'm sorry for the long wait! And I'm also sorry because I'm gonna make headcanons instead of scenarios! I hope you don't mind too much! (This one got a bit longer than expected! Sorry for the spam!)

Kidd

It's hard to be an artist.

You always have the need to draw certain people or certain objects because they are appealing to your eyes.

One of those certain people is none other than your captain: Eustass Kidd.

Kidd is fierce. You know that. Even as a lover he's rather the violent, possessive and dominant type.

People usually try to stay away from him, always scowling and looking as he's about to murder the neext person that looks at him.

But, even when you know that, to you... He's a masterpiece.

Your fingers always itch to make a painting or even just a quick drawing of him, from the very first moment you ever land an eye on him.

You can easily ask him, really, but knowing him, he'd say no and that would upset you quite a lot... So you don't risk it, even though...

"You're staring again." ... You always find yourself doing exactly that, staring at him and being exposed by Killer.

You can't really blame yourself. The mere existence of Kidd is enough to have you wanting make a painting of him, so now that he's working out right in front of you... It's really hard not to stare.

His muscles tensing and stretching with each of his movements as he beares his teeth a bit, growling softly, reaching his limit already. He's covered in a thin layer of sweat and, really, who the heck allowed him to work out shirtless?

"For God's sake, you are staring again."

You can't help but laugh, your cheeks burning bright red. "I'm sorry. I really, really want to draw him."

"Don't you have thousands of drawings?"

"I do, but they're just quick sketches, I want to make a painting... Do you think he'd be happy to know that?"

Killer hums, looking at his captain who's suddenly screaming to a poor guy that stepped too close to him while he was doing push-ups.

"No," he simply says and you bark out a laugh, flushing when Kidd looks up at you with narrowed eyes.

Maybe he's right...

However, later that day, when everyone settled down to their respective quarters and you sneaked into the captain's chambers claiming that you were cold, (not after he growled and scolded you while be opened the door for you and threw like three covers to the bed), you thought that it was the time to actually ask him!

So, as you watched him sitting in front of his desk, ("warm yourself up! I gotta finish this first!"), checking on some reports... You know that you really love your lover...

From his protective and fierce side to his always-angry-face, however, you loved him in this state even more: his features relaxed as he reads down on some documents, his hair down and his head free of those goggles of his. He's even wearing a simple long sleeved shirt that wraps around his muscles, his reading glasses sitting gracefully on the bridge of his nose.

He looks ethereal and you immediately reach down for your drawing materials, (which you keep in the last drawer of his bedside table), and place yourself in bed.

"Captain?"

"Hmm?" His hum sounds more like a growl and you laugh.

"Captain, can I make a painting of you?"

He looks up at you, his eyes squinting, "what?"

"I'm sure you heard me."

"I heard you," he snaps back. "But I'm asking why are you such an idiot." You laugh at his words.

"Don't be scared, captain. You'll look even better in my painting."

"Scared?! Who is scared? And even better, is that even possible?" You roll your eyes. "Do whatever you want. I don't care and stop talking, I'm busy right now."

"Is that a yes?"

"[Name]..."

"Thank you captain!" You giggle, quickly pulling out everything, from pencils to brushes and acrylics; placing everything on the bed as carefully as you can. "I know," you say, hearing him open his mouth to speak. "You'll snap my neck if I mess up with your precious bed."

He growls again, but he refrains from saying anything else, coming back to his report.

You don't say anything else, either, as you place the sketchbook into your lap and as soon as you find a clean sheet, you start to trace his form with a light pencil, sketching him easily, thanks to all the practice. Your eyes do not linger on his body, you know by memory each curve, dip and sharp bone on his body.

So it doesn't take long before you start with the actual painting, brushing on your canvas quickly and not noticing that Kidd was looking at you with the softest of looks he can even master.

He makes sure to quickly look down at his paperwork when you look up at him, frowning and pursing his lips a bit.

After a few minutes, he's too engrossed in his work and you are aswell, so when the clock marks 2 am and his back already feels stiff and his eyeslids heavy, he's ready to call it a day and wrap up his work to finally lay down in bed... But he sees you there...

"Oi, I want to sleep already, how much time is gonna-

"I'm done!" You say excitedly, there are actual tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You really did it! You really made a painting of Eustass Kidd! What a nice moment to be al-

"Let me see it."

"E-Eh?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Let me see it, you said I'd look better in your painting that in real life, so let me see how good I look."

Now maybe you have a big mouth, it's true that the painting was good... But Kidd couldn't get any more good-looking... Is not natural... You show him, regardless and he's speechless.

"It's..." He says, getting up from his chair and walking towards you, snatching the painting out of your hands. He studies it carefully, his eyes are wide and his mouth slightly open. "It's..." He looks at you and bites down his tongue, you are looking at him with such a gleam in your eyes! Stop! "It's... Not bad."

"Aah! Really? Do you like it? You can't keep it!"

"Like it? I've seen better! I'm sure you can improve! Unbelievable! You were bragging all around and..." He slowly shuts his mouth as he actually looks for a place to put the drawing. It end ups in a drawer on his desk... A drawer that he very much use it all the time.

That's more than you can ask from Kidd. "I'm glad you liked it, captain."

"... Move, let's sleep now. I'll kill you if you still the blankets."

Killer

He loves looking at you while you are drawing.

He has told you plenty of times that he loves how lovely you look and how adorable are certain things that you unconsciously do when you are too focused.

He has also asked you plenty of times if he can see your art and you answer is always the same:

"O-oh, it's not that great!"

With that little stuttering and all, but he knows you are is great because you do sometimes share a drawing of painting to him.

But you really don't want to show him the rest of your art because... He's in most of it!

He's there eating, training, fighting, even just breathing! You are just too embarrassed to actually show him that!

What if he thinks you are stalking him? ... Even though he's your lover is still very embarrassing.

The less he knows, the better... However, one night when you got quite a few drinks on you and he was taking you back to your room, you just couldn't keep your mouth shut.

"I love you," you say over and over again as he walked you to the room and placed you in bed.

"I love you too."

"And you are very hot." That caught him a bit off guard as he tried to pull your hair in a bun. "That's why I can't stop drawing you."

"... What?"

You giggle like a maniac. "That's the reason I don't let you look at my drawings! They're all you! Every single one."

He's blushing juuust a bit as he puts his mask off. "Every single one?"

"Mhmm," you nod. "Every single one... I actually want to make a painting of you!"

"... Do it."

"Really?" He nods and you smile widely. "Then I will... But right now I'm sleepy, so goodnight, I love you see you..."

You fell asleep in seconds, losing a small smile on Killer's lips and a kiss on your forehead.

But that's okay because you are way too embarrassed the next morning.

You actually just exposed yourself while drunk, huh? Great! Just great, now he will think that You-

And then you remember, he actually said you could make a painting of him!

You look at your side, Killer is still asleep, so you silently gather all your art stuff and get to work immediately.

You don't feel time passing until Killer started to wake up, groaning softly like he always does and making you giggle.

He looks at you right away, surprised to see you up, sitting on the bed. "Morning. Why are you awake? How are you feeling?"

You smile at him. "Good morning. I'm good, thank you for taking care of me. And I was... Just finishing your painting."

He wakes up fully right away and sits up, looking at you with slightly wide eyes. You giggle, placing a hand on his cheek. "You are so beautiful. Thank you for letting me do this."

He leans in your touch and nods as you lend him the still fresh painting. He widens his eyes slightly.

"This is..."

"You looked so paceful, I couldn't resist painting you like this. I... Wanted a painting of you without your mask, though, I'm sorry."

He looks at the painting for minutes before he finally puts it down and and holds you between his arms.

"Thank you. I love it. I'll keep it forever."

You smile widely, embracing him back. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Oh, let me clean this up, I'm gonna ruin the sheets aga- oh, nevermind."

He laughs and you feel in heaven.

Baby 5

"Are you drawing again, [Name]?"

You jump out of your skin, quickly closing the sketch book in front of you.

"B-Baby 5-san, you scared me."

Baby 5 squeaks and apologizes like crazy, nearly crying in the spot.

"A-ah! It's fine! It's fine! It's not your fault!" You chuckle, holding her hands between yours. "I am not angry," you say smiling at her.

She lets out a long sigh, holding your hands back. "W-what are you drawing so focused?" She asks shyly, widening her eyes when your cheeks turn bright red. "Oh?"

"It's- it's nothing bad! It's just... It's just..." You let go of her hands to cover your face. "I really want to draw Baby 5-san... But I'm not sure if-

"You- y-y-y-y-you want to draw me?" She grabs your shoulders, shaking you a bit.

"Y-Yeah, Baby 5-san is really beautiful and I want to make a painting... For you..."

Baby 5 looks at you for like one second before she actually starts crying, hugging you tightly. "B-Baby 5-san, don't cry please! Did I upset you?" You hug her back, but she grabs you by the shoulder again, shaking you until you feel dizzy.

"Y-You didn't upset me! I'm happy! Stop being so stupid! But you are not stupid! I'm sorry for saying that!" You hold her back, trying to stop her shaking you as you giggle.

"Then, is that a yes? Can I make a painting of you?"

"Yes, you can! Dammit!"

You really don't ask her to make any pose for you, you only need to see her around and about to catch all of figure.

She gets a bit nervous, though, because you are following her around and also get a bit worried because she sees you holding all of your stuff everywhere you go.

She cries a bit when you accidentally let one of your acrylics fall, messing up the floor.

"I've finished," you say that night when both of you are back into your quarters. "It's still a bit fresh, so please be careful with your fingers- Oh," you whisper, hiding the painting behind your back. "D-Do you want to look at it?"

"What? Yes, of course I want to!"

You smile shyly at her, and slowly show your painting.

She cries and you laugh a bit.

"Now now, you've been crying a lot today. Is it that bad, Baby 5-san?"

She hits your arm, making you laugh. "Don't be silly! I love it! It's... It's so pretty! No one has... Has ever made something like this for me. I- I-

You hug her tightly, kissing her cheek. "You are my beautiful girlfriend, of course I would make something just as beautiful as you. I love you."

She sobs and leans in to kiss you. You hum, holding her face between your hands as you kiss her back.

Lola

"Lo-Lola-san!" You giggle, trapped between her arms as she covers your face with kisses. "S-stop!" Your cheeks are bright red, Lola only squeezing you tighter in her embrace.

"What do you mean stop?" She asks, actually stopping to look at you. "You expect me to just sit there and say 'okay' when you ask me to make a painting of me?! Impossible!"

"I-If you are kissing me like this, I will not be able to actually do the painting!" She hums, kissing you one more time before she lets go of you.

"After you are finished with the painting, please marry me, [Name]," she says seriously, holding your hand between hers.

You giggle shyly. "I already said that I will marry you, now let me get my stuff ready, okay?"

Lola is usually very composed, but, as soon as you asked her if you could make a painting of her, she nearly cried, screaming and throwing hearts and flowers everywhere and even using that funny voice of hers when she feels too "enamored".

"How should I pose for you, [Name]?"

"I heard you saying that you have to take care of some paperwork, you can do that while I work on your painting!"

You laugh nearly all your painting session.

Everytime you look up at Lola, she's in a different pose, each pose more dramatic than the last.

She even asks you to stop laughing because "you're gonna ruin my painting, [Name]!"

"I will not ruin it if you stop doing such poses!"

She eventually stopped, not because she wanted to, but because she got a bit occupied with her paperwork.

Now that your laughter died on, you worked faster and in a couple of hours, you were sighing and stretching your arms up.

"Lola-san, I've finished!"

She literally jumps out of her seat and runs to you in a blink of an eye.

She gasps as she looks at the painting. She's not sitting just sitting formally in front of her desk, she is actually in one of her silly poses, showing her big smile and the warm eyes he looks at you with, her cheeks flushed slightly and it's just-

"[Name], it's beautiful!"

"That's because you are beautiful, Lola-san!" She looks at you with teary eyes. "You are the one in the painting, so of course it is beautiful, just like you!"

She lets out a cry and wraps you in another tight hug, even lifting you a bit.

"Thank you, [Name]! I love you so much!" She cries as she gives you another round of endless kisses.

"I love you too, Lola-san!" You answer giggling and hugging her just as tight.

[crimsonrae]

Across the Road, At the Brothel

Chapter Ten

Summary: Jaskier fell in love any day that the sun rose in the East. It was a trifling, pleasurable experience for him. Even when he was jumping out a window to avoid cuckolded husbands. So what happens when his trifles start to become more significant? Jaskier/OC. Some Yennefer/Geralt

A/N: Jaskier is just too adorable not to write about. This is a relationship development story with an OC. There will be smut in later chapters and plenty of angst.

Rating: Mature

Simple and Complex

"Twas early one morning a fair maid arose,

And slipped away with her lover's clothes,

And off to the fields a sure she goes

With naught e'na kiss in the morning early."

An unwilling smile pulled at Lyrra's lips as she smothered a sigh and attempted to pay her bard no mind. She finished hanging a few freshly laundered shirts and trousers as she listened to his approach. She had slipped out of her cottage long before Jaskier had woken. A basket of laundry in hand as she went to the stream – Geralt had roused enough from his place by her hearth to note her exit but seemed incline to rest longer himself. She was grateful for the solitude. It gave her a chance to gather her thoughts and calm the whirlwind that Jaskier had incited in her. She needed the distance and the time to figure out -

"Are you really just going to ignore me?"

Him.

Lyrra glanced around the shirt she was pinning up with a raised brow to see him standing proudly with his hands on his hips, "Did you say something?"

Jaskier narrowed his gaze at her in an odd mix of exasperation and amusement, "Lyrra."

"Jaskier." She intoned and bit back a smirk as he huffed.

A sly glint entered his eyes as he began to sing again.

"The bard arose and he discovered her sin,

His heart and his song composed quite the din."

Lyrra could not help the faint laugh that left her as she listened to him. Puckish amusement danced in his blue orbs as he sidled up next to her and slid an arm around her waist.

"And he had the will for to greet her so slim

With a kiss in the morning early."

She didn't need the last line of his song to see the kiss coming. A quiet sigh left her as she welcomed his familiar embrace. Her skin still tingled with the memory of their coupling and the calm she had achieved was swiftly thwarted by his touch. Reluctantly, she pulled away.

Jaskier smiled contentedly at her, "Good morning."

"It's afternoon, you slept the morning away." Lyrra replied lightly as she moved her basket under the tree her clothesline was tethered on, "And I'm rather sure those aren't the words to that song."

"Ehh, I'm a bard, pretty much gives me free rein to change the words." Jaskier shrugged. His keen eyes cataloged her every move, "You should've slept the morning away too. You were up as long as I was."

As if to prove his point, Lyrra found herself swallowing a yawn. In all actuality, she had been up longer than he had. Her mind had not been able to let the events of the night settle and her dreams had taken a dark turn once she had drifted off. She still wasn't sure what had come over her in that bathing chamber, she was never that bold. Yet, bold was the only way to describe her actions from the time he entered until...well. A blush rose to her cheeks and she could see a salacious grin crossing Jaskier's lips from her periphery at the sight. He knew well where her mind had gone.

"Stop it." She murmured lowly, refusing to look in his direction.

"Stop what?" His tone dripped with quiet laughter.

"You know what." She glowered faintly at him and wished that she still had a few shirts to pin to the line, if only to have something to do besides stare at him.

He tilted his head and his mirthful smile continued to tease her as he said, "You are adorably shy in the light of day. I do hope that I never make you stop blushing."

It was her turn to huff, "Jaskier."

He chuckled quietly and reached for her again, "Now what happened to the woman who had her wicked way with me last night, hmm?"

Lyrra was sure her face was scarlet now at his words as she allowed him to draw her close again, "She came to her senses."

"That sounds...not good." Jaskier murmured as he tilted her chin up and frowned bemusedly at her, "I suppose it's time we actually have that talk."

Lyrra shifted awkwardly under his gaze as she ruefully wondered which talk he was referring to, their tryst or her back. Neither was a conversation she particularly wanted to have, if for completely different reasons. She had been grateful when the topic had fallen to the wayside upon returning to her cottage.

She forced a smile when she realized she was taking too long to respond, "That talk."

"Yes, the one you've been trying to figure out how to avoid since I brought it up last night." Jaskier uttered faintly amused as she looked away somewhat sheepishly and bit back a sigh, "Believe it or not, not a conversation I want to have either, but as fun, as our little dance has been... we do need to -"

He waved his hand about as he tried to find the right words. Lyrra took pity on him as her smile turned a little more genuine, "Clear the air? Create some boundaries? Form an understanding?"

Jaskier nodded, "Yes, that. That would be good."

Lyrra stifled a giggle as she saw her nerves reflected in his expression. It amazed her how he could go from unerringly confident to uncertain in a matter of seconds, especially around her. She was not someone to be nervous around. Her fingers itched with the need to touch him, reassure him. The impulse to soothe his quiet anxiety was strong and unexpected. She wasn't a tactile person by any means, she usually went out of her way to avoid being touched. Jaskier was her opposite in this manner, he felt everything, like an overgrown toddler. He picked up, played, listened, and sometimes tasted everything with which he came into contact. He took comfort in touch, she knew this implicitly.

As if to prove her unspoken point, he seemed to sense her reluctance and reached out to caress her cheek, "What is it? Talk to me."

"It's nothing – I just...I tend to get carried away with you."

Jaskier raised a brow as he prodded her to continue, "And that's a bad thing?"

"It's not like me." She mumbled quietly and resisted the urge to fidget. She didn't know how to explain to him the maelstrom he made her feel. How she found him both comforting and disconcerting. How she allowed him more liberties than anyone since...since ever.

"Again, that's a bad thing?" He was more curious now than concerned. Jaskier had been far from surprised when he had woken to find her gone... simply disappointed. He was quickly beginning to learn that avoidance was his lover's instinctual response to anything that made her -

"It's an uncomfortable thing." Lyrra grimaced.

Uncomfortable. He smiled gently at her, at least she was somewhat aware of her tendencies, "You know, I typically don't do serious."

Lyrra blinked at the strange segue, "Really? Hadn't noticed."

He bit back a laugh at her dry tone as he made his point, "Serious is complicated and boring and messy. I like easy and fun, simple... but you, my lovely Lyrra, you are very complicated and serious. But I can say with absolute certainty you are not boring. You make me curious."

She merely stared at him still unsure where he was going with his little lecture.

"Curious. Confused. Uncomfortable." Jaskier answered placing a special emphasis on that last word, "No, strike that – you don't make me uncomfortable; you make me uncertain. None of that is necessarily a bad thing, you know?"

"Hasn't been my experience." Lyrra replied softly.

"No, I suppose it hasn't." His fingers brushed across her back and the brand he now knew rested there and she tensed at the reminder, "I don't think that I make you uncomfortable, either. I think it's that you enjoy yourself with me that discomfits you. Tell me you didn't enjoy yourself last night."

Her cheeks burned and she couldn't meet his eyes as she fumbled for a response, "I... you know, I did."

"Do you want to do it again?" He asked quietly and linked his fingers with hers.

Lyrra felt her stomach flutter at the question as she tried vainly to ignore the heat that rushed through her veins, "...yes."

"So do I." He murmured softly and unconsciously leaned into her, "Is that really so unsettling?"

Her grey eyes were drawn to his lips, "...yes. You unsettle me, Jaskier."

"How?"

"I crave you. I've known you barely a fortnight." Lyrra whispered, not missing the desirous look that entered his eyes at her words, "And I crave your kisses and your touch... even your voice. I don't crave people. I don't know what to do with you."

"I think you know exactly what to do with me." He couldn't help the tease that left his tongue even as she hit his arm, "Ow."

Vaguely annoyed, she attempted to pull away from him again, but he refused to let her step back. "Alright, okay. I'm sorry. I don't do serious, remember? It's just... this doesn't have to be hard, it can be simple."

Lyrra sighed frustrated, "Nothing about this is simple."

"Only because you're making it complicated." Jaskier pointed out somewhat humorously, "We already agreed to not get married and after last night, I think we're agreed we can't be merely friends. Especially, since we both admitted we want a repeat..." His words slowly caught up with him and he offered her an acknowledging nod, "Right, we may be a little complicated."

Lyrra snorted and shook her head at him. He was utterly ridiculous and she adored it despite herself, "Let me make this simple. I like you, Jaskier. That's simple. You like me back, that's simple too. Last night was great and yes, I want it to happen again, but I'm not sure that it should."

"Why?" He breathed the questioned startled.

The possibility of them not continuing their affair had not occurred to the bard, she could see that plainly and sighed again, "In a day, a week, sometime rather soon you're going to be gone, Jaskier... And I don't - I don't want to miss you."

He looked like he had been struck and Lyrra tried not to wince under his stare or to follow after him when he stepped away. She felt cold at his abrupt distance. Perhaps, she had worded that too harshly. Guilt twisted in her gut as she silently pleaded with him to understand what she couldn't say.

"Right." A bitter laugh escaped him, "Oh, avoidance should really be your middle name, Lyrrana."

"Jaskier-"

"No." He shook his head and cut her off, "You don't want to miss me? That's shit, if ever I heard it. Let's reword that, shall we? What you really mean to say is: Jaskier, you're going to hurt me, so let's not even bother."

A stone sank with a ferocious crash in her stomach as his words and gaze scolded her like an unruly child. She wanted to be angry with him, but he wasn't entirely wrong. She stared helplessly, not sure how to respond or even if she should.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. I really should've rented that room for us last night." He murmured almost sadly, "I'm not going to hurt you, Lyrra."

She swallowed tightly, "I know..."

"Do you?!" His disbelief seared her and she found she couldn't meet his gaze any longer, "Do I scare you, Lyrra? Last night did I -"

"No. No, Jaskier." Lyrra interrupted before he could finish his question, "I wanted last night. You didn't push me or force me."

Jaskier stared at her as he replayed everything he had said and done in that bathing chamber. A slow realization began to creep on him, "But I did scare you."

"No."

Despite the certainty in her voice, he knew it was a lie. It wasn't physical intimacy that was causing Lyrra's hesitance over their affair, it was emotional, "I did. When I saw your back. When I demanded you let me in, I scared you."

Lyrra's lips tightened into a thin line as she glared at him, "No."

Jaskier didn't seem to hear her as he muttered, "How am I attracted to the most emotionally stunted people on the bloody Continent?"

"Jaskier." She sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose, "Can we forget this conversation and go back to where you kissed me good morning?"

He looked as frustrated as she felt as he, in turn, uttered, "No. I promised you last night we go at your pace, not mine... I'll see if I can get my room back at the inn."

"You don't have to." Lyrra started softly.

Jaskier forced a smile at her and she hated it, "Yeah, I do. I think we both need our space. Simpler this way."

She went to protest further, but he cut her off once again.

"Oh...one more thing." A determined expression marred his visage as he swept back into her space and pressed his lips to hers. Lyrra gasped faintly at the sudden contact and he stole the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Unconsciously, her hands rose to tangle in his hair as he backed her against the trunk of the tree. A fiery thrill rushed through her veins as coherent thought left her and all she could do was cling to him as she simply felt.

She felt his warmth and the subtle strength in his body as he pressed against her. She felt his almost desperate grip on her hips and tasted his passion as he took his fill. He hadn't kissed her like this before... He was usually gentle, curious, searching, but this was demanding, almost possessive, it was dizzying. It wasn't until she completely melted into his touch that he pulled away and pressed his head to hers.

A smug gleam sparkled in his eyes, "That's what I thought too."

Utter confusion descended on Lyrra as she stared at him, "What?"

His smile was even smugger, "The thing about having this talk is that declaring our intentions goes both ways. I'll stay at the inn, but I fully intend to end up back in your bed and if I happen to fall into your heart, all the better. You don't get to ignore me. You don't get to be afraid of me, Lyrra. I'm not that scary."

No, he was terrifying.

He stole one more kiss before starting his trek to the cottage. Lyrra was left bewildered to stare after him. She shouted out the only thing that came to mind before he got too far, "This is far from simple!"

Jaskier spun on his heel and grinned, "Yeah, but I already told you – you're complicated. And I like you. Besides, I'm not that easy to get rid of, ask Geralt."

He disappeared around the bend a second later and Lyrra covered her face in disbelief, "He's absolutely mad."

»»————-　　————-««

Geralt felt a headache coming on as he headed back towards the woods. Enough time had passed since he had last checked the clearing that whoever had created the mutated fleders would have had the chance to find their corpses. He hoped anyway. Otherwise, he would need to figure out another way to track down those creature's creator and that meant spending more time in the Toussaint countryside than he was comfortable. Especially, now that Jaskier and Lyrra were...

He didn't know what the fuck those two were doing.

Which in part was why he had a headache now. Jaskier had been gathering his things when he had left the cottage, muttering under his breath about being drawn to emotionally constipated people.

Geralt didn't ask.

He would really rather not know.

What he had gleaned was that they were getting rooms at the inn. Despite his earlier protestations about overstaying their welcome in Lyrra's home, he wasn't looking forward to dealing with the general populace again. He pushed the thought aside as he moved quietly through the brush. The smell of rot had only become heavier in the days that followed and he no longer needed to follow his tracks back to the clearing. The other change was the faint buzzing of flies that filled his ears. The fleders decomp had attracted more insects. His teeth clenched as he resigned himself to the fact that the creator of the two beasts either had not bothered to look for them or the corpses hadn't been discovered yet.

There certainly hadn't been any talk amongst the locals about the discovery of two fleder corpses. He sighed as he stepped fully out of the woods and casually observed the clearing again. The flesh was almost completely gone from the fleders now... wait...fleder. One. Geralt tilted his head and eyed the shadows behind the first corpse. He wasn't mistaken there was only one body now. The other was gone.

He strode forward and bent to study the ground. There were drag marks, but that could have been from an animal dragging the body away for food. Yet, he found that scenario unlikely. Most scavengers could sense a potentially dangerous meal. The venom the fleder created would likely have made it toxic to any creature that attempted to eat it.

More silently than he had entered the clearing, he exited following the tracks. Even then, he could have followed his nose the stench was so bad. Whoever or whatever had come to claim the body had done so recently. It wasn't long before he stumbled onto a narrow path.

The trees had thinned and he could make out neatly organized rows of barren grape vines through the foliage. He must have been on the edge of one of the vineyards. Frowning, he continued on his hunt. Geralt noted the unnatural stillness in the air as he walked. He heard no birds or little critters scurrying through the brush. There were no distant sounds of farmhands, not even a breeze of wind to stir the leaves. A familiar twinge in his gut had him ill at ease, he wasn't the only predator afoot.

He must have walked a quarter-mile when he did finally hear it. It was low and shrill like an out of tune string on a lute. A song. Someone was singing. His twinge turned into a solid sinking instinct as he had a good assumption of what he was about to discover. His hand twitched for his sword as he dimly realized he had not brought the silver one with him. He had anticipated a human threat, not a monster. Geralt knew he had a choice to make – he could continue on and have his assumptions proven correct, but be ill-equipped to deal with the threat or he could head back and return later to a threat that had potentially disappeared.

Sighing quietly, he drew his sword and bent to pull a small silver dagger from his boot. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. He skirted to the edge of the path as he moved like a stalking cat around the bend. His golden eyes missed nothing as he took in the dilapidated ruins of an old manor. Past the tumbled walls he could make out the form of a woman. Her singing was louder now as she hunched over the rotted form of the missing fleder. A bruxa.

He watched for a moment as the bruxa continued to sing. Her head tilted back enough that he could see what appeared to be tears streaming down her cheeks as she caressed the festered corpse. Geralt frowned in confusion.

Had the bruxa made the fleders? Was that even possible?

It wasn't unheard of for bruxae to hunt in packs, but he had never known a bruxa to bother with a fleder. The creatures were usually too stupid and wild to be of notice to the high order vampires.

A low grumbling sounded behind him and Geralt stiffened. It seemed fate had taken his choice from his hand. He whipped around to see a very alive, very hungry looking fleder. The commotion had garnered the attention of the bruxa and her song turned into a screeching cry.

"Fuck." Geralt muttered.

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