#I hope this inspires discomfort nevertheless! :)

[nebuladreamerrr]

Holaaa can I request another Mbappe imagine where you’re married to Kylian but somehow his family never noticed that you don’t drink. While you’re at his parent’s house and his mom offers you wine you told her no thanks. And she got a mini heart attack thinking you were announcing that you’re pregnant😂

I hope you like it, sweetheart ❤️❤️❤️

Problematic beverage| Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

Summary: To commemorate you and Kylian's last night in France you decide to have a farewell dinner, but one drink will set off alarm bells among all the guests.

Warnings: English is not my first language, and I am not a doctor so some medical information might be wrong. 

As I indulged in a tranquil shower and meticulously selected my attire for the upcoming occasion, a sense of gratitude washed over me knowing that the celebration would be held at my mother-in-law's residence. While venturing out to explore new culinary delights with Kylian was a beloved pastime, today, the allure of a cozy night at home held greater appeal.

Since the morning, I had been grappling with slight abdominal discomfort, but it was the violent expulsion of my breakfast that sent alarm bells ringing. A sigh escaped my lips, a reflexive response to the familiar discomfort that had plagued me since childhood. From a young age, I had endured sporadic bouts of stomach pain, often coinciding with stressful events like ballet competitions or pivotal exams.

My mother, recognizing the pattern of discomfort over time and the occasional severity of the pain, decided to seek medical advice. It was then confirmed by the doctor that I was suffering from chronic pancreatitis. Fortunately, this diagnosis did not thwart my aspirations nor impede my plans. Nevertheless, there were limitations imposed by my condition, one of them being the prohibition of alcohol consumption.

I vividly recall the bewildered expression on my face when the doctor delivered the news that alcohol was off-limits due to its potential exacerbation of my condition. Despite having never partaken in revelry or imbibed alcohol, I comprehended its central role in youthful socialization. I anticipated feeling excluded and feared it would hinder my ability to forge friendships. However, fortune smiled upon me as I found companions who reveled in diverse activities, such as leisurely picnics punctuated by impromptu art sessions and beach outings adorned with sunset photography. While occasional forays into nightlife did occur, they were infrequent. Moreover, my aversion to alcohol transcended mere medical necessity; it stemmed from a profound apprehension regarding its transformative effects on individuals, a sentiment that prompted a steadfast commitment to abstention.

I crossed paths with Kylian at a charity gala where young French athletes, each with an inspiring tale to share, were invited to engage with children and organize activities, with the proceeds earmarked for various charitable causes. His speech resonated deeply with me, capturing both his pride and underlying sense of unease at being in the spotlight. His exact words, etched in my memory, were: "It's in these moments that I often feel out of place because, despite many of you seeking wisdom from me, it's I who must truly learn from all of you and your resilience in the face of adversity." Fortunately, I also captured his attention. When my presentation concluded, he couldn't resist approaching me, ostensibly to delve deeper into my world as we leisurely meandered through the buffet arrayed by the gala's organizers.

His heart nearly skipped a beat when I declined his offer of wine, yet my reassuring smile assuaged his concern as I disclosed my health condition, explaining the potential ramifications of alcohol consumption. Eager to learn more about me, Kylian exhibited a genuine interest in every facet of my life: from my ballet classes and training regimen to the nuances of my medication routine and anything remotely connected to me. Thus, a swift friendship blossomed between us, evolving into a profound romantic bond over the course of just a few months—a connection I wouldn't trade for anything in this world.

Four years ago, when we embarked on our relationship, we were both young and full of energy. Kylian, in particular, made the most of his free time by hanging out with friends, often leading to lively gatherings. Despite this, Kylian maintained a sense of discipline and restraint when it came to alcohol consumption. Instances of indulgence were typically reserved for national festivities or significant triumphs for his team or the national squad. However, everything changed when he met me. Suddenly, I became his top priority.

Kylian's transformation was profound. He meticulously documented all of my medications in a calendar, ensuring that I adhered to my prescribed regimen. If he couldn't be present when I needed to take my medication, he set an alarm to remind me. Additionally, he curtailed his social outings significantly, and on many occasions, he refused to attend events if I couldn't accompany him. When we did venture out together, our excursions were brief, as Kylian was adamant about not subjecting me to any discomfort.

On our wedding day, Kylian solemnly declared that his every decision would revolve around me, promising never to take any action that didn't prioritize my well-being above all else.

Thankfully, my illness never prevented me from attending any of Kylian's games. He cherished my presence, considering me his "lucky charm." It was through these matches that I had the pleasure of meeting my in-laws, whom Kylian introduced me to after one such game. As the Ligue 1 season progressed, so did my relationship with his parents, and I couldn't help but feel blessed by the bond we shared. Kylian's parents took immense pride in their son's career, and when I mentioned my occasional ballet performances, they eagerly pledged their attendance at my next show. This promise was fulfilled a few months ago when I took to the stage, greeted by the sight of my partner and his parents in the audience.

The decision to depart from France proved to be a challenging ordeal for both of us. It was a place that held significance for each of us individually; for Kylian, it was where he found trust and unwavering support, particularly during his darkest moments. Likewise, for me, it served as the backdrop for my personal and artistic growth, particularly in my beloved pursuit of ballet. However, I was acutely aware that leaving France would entail a narrowing of job prospects, given that few other nations accorded dance, especially ballet, the same level of priority.

Thus, when Kylian broached the idea of a modest gathering to mark the conclusion of a significant chapter in our lives, I couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. Initially slated to unfold at a private restaurant in the heart of Paris, a venue Kylian frequented with his friends and where he once celebrated his maiden PSG paycheck, the plans swiftly shifted. Sensing my discomfort on the eve of the event, Kylian promptly altered course, opting instead to host the gathering at his mother's residence—a more proximate locale to our abode. Here, I could seek respite in the guest room if my discomfort intensified, shielded from any prying eyes or unwelcome scrutiny.

With a sense of urgency, I hastened to complete my preparations, summoning Kylian to assist with the delicate task of fastening the gray satin dress adorning my frame. His admiring whistle upon beholding me in the garment, accompanied by the endearing epithet "my beautiful woman," served to ignite a flutter of warmth within me, intensified by the tender kiss planted upon my collarbone.

As we stepped into my mother-in-law's abode, she greeted me with an exuberant embrace, sharing how she had procured my favorite appetizers and guiding me toward the others, while Kylian grumbled behind me, visibly "irritated" by his mother's preference for embracing me first. In response, I couldn't resist playfully sticking out my tongue.

Upon crossing the threshold onto the terrace, Kylian's friends extended warm welcomes. Kylian, ensuring my comfort and safety, opted to leave me engaged in a delightful conversation with Melissa and his mother.

"How are you, y/n? I was genuinely concerned when Kylian mentioned you weren't feeling well," Fayza remarked, her tone laden with worry.

"I've been better, but thankfully, at the moment, my discomfort is limited to stomach issues, so things are more or less manageable for now," I responded, seeking to allay their concerns.

"Well, y/n, do tell us. Have you managed to secure a place with any academy or instructor for your inaugural performance in Spain?" Melissa inquired eagerly.

"I've reached out to several, but I've had to turn down many options because they weren't the right fit for me. They seemed more interested in my relationship with Kylian than my craft. However, in recent days, I've connected with one that genuinely seemed invested in me, so let's hope this one pans out."

"Sweetheart, can I get you a glass of wine while you continue telling us about the move?" Fayza asked, retrieving a bottle from an ice bucket.

"No, it's okay. I can't have wine because of my condition," I replied with a smile, which quickly faded when I noticed everyone falling silent and Fayza dropping the bottle to the floor.

"When were you planning on telling us?" Ethan teased his brother.

"Telling us what, exactly?" Kylian asked, attempting to lock eyes with me for an explanation, but my cluelessness only heightened his concern.

"That y/n is pregnant," Fayza blurted out, barely able to overcome her shock.

"What?!" Kylian and I exclaimed, unable to shake off our bewilderment at his family's confusion.

"Yes, it all makes sense now: y/n's frequent vomiting, her occasional dizziness, her abdominal discomfort, and her abstaining from alcohol," Melissa exclaimed excitedly, envisioning her children having a cousin to play with.

"What? No, no, there's been a misunderstanding. I can't drink because of my illness, and Kylian and I... no, we're not planning for a baby right now," I explained nervously, seeking Kylian's confirmation of my statement.

"Exactly, as she said, for now, we won't know for three weeks," Kylian chimed in, attempting to lighten the mood with a joke, but his attempt fell flat when met with my glare of disapproval.

Gradually, the atmosphere returned to normal as Fayza apologized to both of us for her reaction. It wasn't that she didn't want grandchildren; she simply thought we had chosen to keep it a secret and would find out through the media when her son was abroad.

And so, we savored our final evening together, cherishing the memories to bring comfort in times of homesickness. However, Kylian couldn't help but hope that the next time we entered that house, it would be to announce a pregnancy.

[synamartia]

GUYS I SWEAR I'M TRYING TO FINISH SMUTMUS. I just can't stop myself from adding new things each time I try to enter the final editing stage 😭 I keep telling myself to save some bits for future stories, but fuck! It's getting too good for me to stop~ 😉 and then I get on here and get inspired to add something else, which throws me back a couple steps cause I'm trying to make sure it flows properly. SOMEONE TAKE AWAY MY PHONE- *gets smacked down*

Btdubs I've used the word "tongue" WAY too many times so if anyone could help me with synonyms or alternative ways to describe the tongue that'd be great 🥲

Be prepared though, once it's done and posted, I'mma take some time to respond to messages/comments/reblogs, catch up on some reading *looks at Hazel, Mink, & Danny* and write ESSAYS on every little detail! Yall might wanna put me on mute when that happens 🤣

I'll come back and add proper CW tags to all the teasers I release later, but for now (and just as a general rule of thumb with anything I post): MDNI! And jsyk, it WILL BE WORTH IT. I've doubled my word count from the original nine parts, and it's still growing. So. Y'know.

GET 👏 READY 👏 FOR 👏 10K+ 👏 WORDS 👏 OF 👏 ABSOLUTE 👏 FILTH 👏👏👏👏

Quickly, you turned your head and pushed yourself up. “No! No, I can…” you paused for a moment to stifle a yawn. The incident that led to all of this occurred near the end of your work day, so you were already fairly tired when this started. The unexpectedly hard orgasm wasn't helping any, but the promise of even more kept you going. Besides, you couldn't be the only one having fun here. That wouldn't be fair. “... I can keep going. I wanna keep going,” you insisted, lowering your leg as you pushed yourself up straight, turning to face him fully now. “For you.” You added, staring up at him with an amorous look that made his breath hitch in his throat for a moment. Cautiously, you raised your hands to gently cradle his face, standing on your tip toes so you could place a soft peck on his smiling lips.

Lowering yourself to stand proper now, you began to trace your hands down his neck and chest, not missing the way his muscles still tensed at your touch. It was going to take some time, you realized, to get him to a point where he welcomes your touch rather than shies away from it. You hoped that he would give you that time; outside of this incident that you so clumsily caused, of course. When your hands reached the waistband of his pants, you looked up at him and waited for his permission to continue - something small and near insignificant but nevertheless something he still appreciated. He would have to reward you for that later. Nodding his head, Alastor watched you as you slowly pushed both his trousers and briefs down past his hips, his aching cock springing from its prison and slapping lightly against his lower abdomen. He looked away for a moment, unable to hide his growing discomfort with being so bare in front of another person. Gently, you pressed on his jaw with your left hand to bring his narrowed eyes back to your face. “Hey,” you called. “You can trust me, Alastor,” you assured him, knowing full well that was only part of the problem. Mouth twitching, Alastor stared at you as you leaned in to place tender kisses to his chest, your eyes never once leaving his face as you lowered yourself to your knees before him. “I promise,” you spoke softly, hands tracing the defined muscles of his abs and gliding along the dips of his pelvic v. Bringing one hand down to rest on his thigh, your other gently wrapped around the base of his cock. Humming softly as you smiled up at him, you rubbed your cheek against his length, then grazed your lips over his leaking tip. “I just want to make you feel good,” you continued to assure him, not missing the shaky sigh he gave in response to your touches. Experimentally, you let the tip of your tongue dart past your lips and against his crying slit, his entire body tensing as one of his hands moved to tangle within your tresses while you continued to deliver kitten licks to his sensitive tip. You stared up at Alastor with such innocence in your big doe eyes; he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from forcing his cock as far down your throat as it could go. “Is that okay?” You asked after a couple more licks to his slit. “Will you let me make you feel good, Alastor?” You asked him so sweetly, voice dripping with honey as his name rolled off your devilish tongue. You really knew how to push his buttons. With a drawn out moan vibrating through his chest, you barely had time to fully open your mouth as he pushed his hips forward and guided your head down until your nose brushed against the carmine strands at his base, his head tilting back at the long anticipated sensation finally washing over him as he breathed out a singular,  “Yes!”

[residenthughes]

we have magic mike at home

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

tags/warnings: inspired by magic mike, fluff, pandemic is mentioned briefly, suggestive? (near the end at least)

summary: planning a wedding is never easy, especially under the stresses of the pandemic. leon wants to help you unwind.

notes: so, this is the fic i was meant to post a few days ago (whoopsies!) but i've had a very busy few days, so i'm quite glad to have had the chance to sit down and post this one 😎 not sure when i'll be posting again, but hope it'll be soon! enjoy :)

Early evening settles in, bringing with it a gentle night’s breeze and the aching sensation that burns the back of your eyelids. It’s a mere two nights before your quaint but glamorous wedding and you think the planning you challenged yourself to undertake is finally taking its toll. Needless to say, your husband-to-be, Leon, helped out in any way he possibly could, suggesting from the get-go to hire a wedding planner with the help of the generous salary you both earn. You politely declined however, citing the personal touches you heavily desired sprinkled into the details of your beautiful day to just remain between you and Leon - no one else. While this is mostly true, you couldn’t bring yourself to admit that forfeiting so much control in the hands of another individual wasn’t exactly something you were interested in doing. Especially on such an important day.

So, you start to plan your wedding and it’s so much fun. The freshness of a new project always is, particularly when a select bunch of your closest friends and Leon are the ones you bounce ideas between, creating a picturesque plan that ensures to capture the beauty of your faithful union in all its glory. You arrange and arrange, sifting through countless wedding dresses for the one, consuming cheeky amounts of cake all in the name of cake-tasting - all the bridal things. You find it truly fulfilling, being so booked and busy, particularly when taking into account how your regular life schedule takes a turn due to the pandemic. Though you remain ever the optimist when Leon checks in with things on your end, sometimes you find yourself out of sorts when the thought of how different things would be if there wasn’t a pandemic happening crosses your mind. Despite your initial discomfort, you would have agreed in hiring a wedding planner as the scale of your wedding would have required doing so, and so many of those who’ve not only touched your life but Leon’s too would be in attendance, rejoicing and celebrating the momentous occasion for what it’s worth.

It’s not as if the quaint outdoor wedding attended by a select bunch of those closest to you two didn’t have a special place in your heart, but when days are long and you feel such a disconnect from your norm, you simply cannot help the thought. Today is one of those days.

Immediately, you gaze down at the sparkling diamond encrusted ring that sits perfectly against your skin, a reminder of your sacred love and there’s a lightness in your chest at the prospect of the piece of jewellery accompanying you for the rest of eternity. The thought gives just a bit of comfort, even if you want so much more. You sigh nevertheless, pushing your glasses back onto your face and getting back to the sickening amount of emails that flood your inbox, put at ease knowing the end of your night will come when the email count reaches 0.

As you sit comfortably against the soft material of the couch in your shared apartment, nearby TV murmuring in the background, you don’t question when you hear the sudden loud of music. Leon returned home not long ago, peppering your forehead with smothering kisses and the promise of joining you after his shower. You do question the music though, when it’s unlike the familiar alternative tones of music that usually play as he showers but the sounds of Ginuwine’s ‘Pony.’ You can’t help but chuckle to yourself at the choice in music, shaking your head in amusement as your shoulders absently move in time with the beat. Your fingers pitter patter against the keys of your laptop, feelings of tension lessening before you hear the door of your bedroom open. You’re so engrossed with typing the last bit of your email that you don’t immediately turn to Leon, who exits the bedroom.

“New addition to the shower playlist, I see.” You muse, grinning as you hit the full stop button and turn to face Leon, face draining of its colour.

Now, in all the time you’ve known Leon, you’ve had countless encounters with him nude, the outline of his veins and bulge of his muscles something you can never tear your eyes from, as if you were seeing them for the first time everytime. His bare state is nothing irregular due to the circumstances, but you’re sorely mistaken. Leon, who you assumed would retreat into the living space in an ivory white towel hung loosely around his sculpted midriff, opts for something else, something else you couldn’t even have guessed.

Black leather crosses the expanse of his legs, flared out at the bottom and gripping his large thighs like a lifeline. A tawny brown belt holds the material to his hips, leather trousers hanging so low your line of sight is abundant in deep v-line and his butterscotch blond snail trail. His rock hard torso glistens as he steps out into the light of the room, strutting in with command as his hand secures the midnight black cowboy hat atop his locks, effectively shielding his eyes. You audibly gulp.

Yet again, another assumption in your mind is combatted. You were under the impression that Leon couldn’t dance, over the course of your relationship the man himself joking he’d have to oil his joints before utter destruction would take place on the dancefloor. This is not the case. Again. Albeit sheepish and amateurish, Leon steps towards you with seductive rolls of his gleaming torso, sleeveless vest outlining the flow of his movements as the long sterling silver feather necklace he adorns nestles onto the space of his cleavage.

At this point, you’re barely blinking, afraid you’ll miss a single second of the amazing spectacle, taking in every inch of Leon as he stops before you. In your trance, you must have placed your laptop somewhere, because it is long gone when Leon’s figure looms over you, suddenly making you feel so small yet so terribly flustered. In one swift motion, the cowboy hat Leon sports falls atop your head, half shielding your eyes. You’re quick to move it further upwards, eying Leon as he shimmes the leather vest down his shoulders inch by inch. Regardless of the overflow of lust that dilates your pupils and leaves you with dry mouth, your smile is innocently amused as you notice the rosy tint of Leon’s cheeks against the porcelain of his skin, lips fighting the timidity that very much craves a downturned smile.

The vest is off Leon’s shoulders and he’s shaking his hips in small circles to align with the lyrics. Lifting a toned arm up to the sky, he swings the material in slow motion, highlighting the shadows of his great muscles and overall being an absolute sex-god. You hear a smack off in the distance where the vest lands and Leon’s grabbing your hands, touch warm and sensual as he guides them onto his torso. Beneath your tingling skin, you discern the mould of Leon’s build - solid, lean and every explicit word that comes to mind. He’s so undeniably sexy, ushering you down the expanse of his toned body with heavy-lidded eyes, but so damn endearing. He tries his very best to settle into the serious stripper persona he’s adopted, but his hands are trembling and he’s biting his lips in order not to burst out laughing and you can’t take it anymore. An airy laugh empties out from the bottom of your belly, gazing up at Leon with all the love and happiness you can muster in your eyes. The instantaneous change in atmosphere is one Leon appreciates, chuckling under his breath as he listlessly keeps with his supposed choreography.

“When you said we have Magic Mike at home, I didn’t think you meant this.” you joke, not even attempting to hide how ludicrous this whole scenario is.

Leon snickers, still preoccupied with your hands as they rest on either side of his waist. “Seemed like a shame to not provide entertainment for your bachelorette party.”

He ghosts your hand over his snail trail, brushing past his cock quick enough for inaction but slow enough for you to make out the semi hard-on he’s working with. There’s a disgusting twist in your abdomen. “Channing Tatum can’t beat this real deal, now can he?”

Aided by the calmer sounds of the next song murmuring behind you, you’re simply confronted with the grapple of the literal context of your current situation. Your legs cross over one another, a rush of humidity showering over you as your front teeth sink into your bottom lip. You want Leon in every possible way, and are sure he feels the same, his desire face to face with you. But you can’t ignore the nuances that envelope you. Observing the long hours you spent organising your wedding, with no occasion planned to drunkenly celebrate together with your friends or seemingly reward yourself for your extensive labour, Leon took it upon himself to be there for you. As he always has been, and you honestly can’t thank him enough.

You press a soft kiss against Leon’s knuckles, peering up at the man who couldn’t be a better face to wake up to for the rest of your life. “I love you so much. Thank you - really.”

His lips curve softly and you’re falling in love all over again. “Don’t mention it.”

[ts1m1kas]

Original Ask: would love to see him and a pregnant!reader (anonymous)

Word Count: 504 words

(author's note: I kinda hate the ending, but i was struck with inspiration and just had to write it !! i hope you enjoy nevertheless 🫶)

As a little girl, Y/N had always wondered what her life would be like in the future. Would she fall in love? Would she get married? Would she have children? But as she sat in the cramped hospital waiting room with her doting husband by her side, she knew that she had gotten everything she wanted.

“Mrs Robertson?” Y/N looked up at the call of her name. Andrew stood up and helped her to her feet, a task that had become more difficult for her every day her pregnancy furthered along.

As the pair got situated in the ultrasound room, a nurse came in with some papers in her hand. She sat down at her computer and began typing up some information.

“Sorry, I won’t be too much longer,” She said apologetically.

“No rush, take your time,” Y/N replied.

Although she had been for many ultrasounds throughout her pregnancy, part of her was still nervous every time. Sensing his wife’s discomfort, Andy grabbed Y/N’s hand gently and stroked her skin with his thumb. The silent gesture not only calmed Y/N’s nerves but also reassured her that her husband was always there to soothe her.

“Right then, how are you, Mrs Robertson? Has everything been okay?”

“Yes, everything’s been fine. No problems as far as I’m aware.”

“Perfect, let's get you up on the bed so we can have a look at your baby.”

Y/N moved up onto the bed, the protective paper crinkling as she sat down. Y/N lifted her top up, exposing her rounded belly to the nurse.  Although she expected the coldness of the gel, she still flinched every time. 

“Sorry, I know it's not nice.”

Y/N laughed, “Don’t worry about it.”

Andrew moved to stand next to Y/N, his eyes peering over at the small screen curiously. Everyone knew that Andy was destined to be a father. So, when Y/N had told him she was pregnant, he was over the moon.

As the nurse moved the ultrasound wand around on Y/N’s stomach, the picture on the screen shifted until their tiny baby was visible in black and white. The pair exchanged a look, the love for their unborn baby mutual.

Andy grasped his wife’s hand again, overcome with emotions he had never felt before. After the nurse had finished her examination, she wiped the gel residue from Y/N’s stomach and allowed her to pull her shirt down.

“Everything looks okay to me, have you got your next appointment booked in?”

Y/N nodded, and the nurse let them out of the room after exchanging goodbyes. As the pair made their way through the labyrinth of winding corridors in the hospital, Andy didn’t stop talking once about their baby.

“You’ve given me the best thing I could ever dream of.”

Once the couple were sitting in their car, finally ready to head home, Andrew turned to Y/N. His eyes were full of adoration for Y/N as he said;

[eccentricallygothic]

not really a request (not even sure i’m in the right ask box) buttttt i would love to hear any brain rot or wip scraps you wanna rant about. love when writers just info dump and i’ve been secretly lurking on your page for a bit. decided to make myself known

Hiiii! This is my first time doing this and I hope I didn't overshare but I am SO happy that you are making yourself known! Welcome to the blog, I hope to see more of you! <333

Now!! I am sharing two because why not? I've a lot more than these (maybe more than I'd like to admit 😭) but we will start with Auggie Walker and then move onto the Stevie one.

Auggie is an intimidating man and that's why I haven't written for him yet. I am so afraid I won't be able to capture him right and the idea is so good in my head I feel like I'll ruin it while translating it into a story 😭 but this idea has been living in my head rent free because it's a big fear for me!

And about the Stevie one, I've always been quite open about this and I will never shut up! I love, love, LOVE the sci-fi side of the MCU and specifically Steve's whole serum thing. It inspires me so much and I come up with something new everytime I see it! 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Please do let me know what you think about them! 🩷

(also, for whatever it's worth, these are my WIPs so I request no one steal them please!)

. . .

As August received an attachment from your number, his eyebrows furrowed because you knew to send them all through email. Making a mental note to reprimand you for it later, he tapped on it within the next second. Now his head tilted to the side. 

A video. 

He had asked you for some documents which your boss knew very well weren't supposed to be in this medium.

The man tapped on it nevertheless, the sound and content inside catching him off guard as his eyebrows slightly raised. He was in disbelief. Moving the phone closer to his face and away from where he held it against his work table, August increased the brightness of the screen to make sure it was you. 

Which, you were. 

"Mr. Walker…" You panted and whined, clutching one of your breasts as your other hand hid between your legs. "Oh, Mr. Walker… I am so needy for you…" You were in the janitor's closet on this very floor, phone placed on one of the shelves next to the files you had been carrying for the meeting that had just passed along your ipad. The lighting was dim and your disheveled hair stuck to your sweaty skin. "Won't you bend me over your table and make a good girl out of me~ I-" August blinked as the screen went black before a notification popped up.

Message deleted. 

The man's head spun with the sudden influx of emotions, the sudden discomfort in his boxers getting tighter as he realised what had just happened. He smirked. 

You had not meant to send it. 

.

The fire that had taken over your body was dissipating and fast as you gaped at your screen. You were the stupidest person you knew. Instead of tapping on save you had chosen to share the video you were planning to watch until you orgasmed. Since your boss August Walker was your most frequently interacted with contact, it was an instant send that took you a few moments to register as you had been busy bouncing on your own fingers to orgasm. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" You chanted in panic as you leaned against the wall of the small room, holding a shelf for support as your own heartbeat pounded through your ears. "I am so fucking–" 

There was a knock on the door.

. . .

"Where… do you think you're going, doll?" Steve was reading the Sunday newspaper by the fireplace when he saw his young wife drag her luggage bag to the front door of their humble abode. 

"Mommy and Daddy's home." Y/n responded curtly, not turning to look at him. Because his face was still of the man she had fallen in love with and married. But she couldn't let herself surrender to it anymore. 

"Without my permission or a prior discussion?" Tilting his head to the side, the man raised an amused eyebrow at the stiff girl who started to drag the heavy bag again. 

"Won't be needing any of that anymore." Since the man didn't expect what was coming, he chuckled and furrowed his eyebrows. 

He couldn't recall doing anything against her wishes in the last 24 hours. So what was this? 

"And why do you think is that?" Y/n sighed as she ceased her struggle against the luggage bag, biting her lip and closing her eyes. 

Well, the talk would have to happen sometime. 

It was now or never.

"You are not the man I married, Steve" since she usually referred to him as hubby, this felt like an insult, almost. 

The Captain put the newspaper down against his lap now. "What silly Sunday morning shenanigan is this, doll?" He snickered before shaking his head. "I know I have been busy after everything but…" Now he patted his lap. "Come here."

"No."

"You know little wives can't tell their husbands that, baby. Haven't we been over this so many times already?" His coaxing voice had her turn her back to him. 

Fuck. 

She was so in love with him. 

Why did he have to get the stupid serum?

"Good thing I am not your wife anymore, then." As she placed the ring on the shoe cupboard next to the door, Y/n failed to catch that he had stood up to the towering height the procedure had granted him.

He was a giant now. 

"This is not funny anymore, doll." Steve warned as he started to decrease the distance between them. 

"It's not meant to be. You're not my Steve. You're-" her words were suppressed by a gasp when she noticed he was now standing right behind her. 

"Who am I, then?" Though his eyes and tone turned darker, he was genuinely confused. 

"Captain America." It broke his heart when the girl backed up to create some distance between them. "The man I married was Brooklyn's most ambitious and brave… not America's pride. You're… practically a stranger" he sighed. 

This had occurred to him once but he had assured himself that they were stronger than that. 

"Come on, baby." Y/n flinched when he reached for her smaller hand and clasped it between both of his, kissing her fingertips. "I know it's different, and maybe even scary. But I am still me. So what if I am Captain America? Doesn't mean I am not your Steve… Can't you feel me?" He pressed his bigger body against hers. 

"That's the thing" she whispered, devastated. "I can't." Tears welled up in her eyes as she felt herself getting scared and breathless under him. "I have tried. Ever since the day you walked out of that machine, I have. But I can't." Y/n didn't know why but she found herself thinking about how helpless she was against him. "I don't recognize you without your face. I feel like I am in a stranger's arms every night. It's not the same. Every time you touch me it feels like I am betraying the love of my life." Though the rational part of Steve's brain felt both crushed and sadly fond of her devotion to that form of his that no one else had ever taken seriously, her next words completely flipped everything over inside his head. "Please. Let me go." Reason gave way to desperation.

Oh..

He could never do that. 

Maybe not even in death.

"Can't do that, baby." Her tears finally spilled down at his words. She started to softly struggle, the panicked gesture breaking his heart more and more by the passing second. "Why are you punishing us for something I had to do? For you, me, all of us. Come on, we are stronger than this. You knew my ambitions, you said it yourself just now." His own eyes were glassy as he breathlessly chuckled as an effort to somehow lighten the situation, ignoring her faint pleas as she struggled to push him away. "Remember-" Steve grunted as he gathered her now assaulting hands away from his neck and chest before locking them above her head. "Remember when your father didn't approve of me because he thought I wasn't good enough for you?" A trickled tear hung off the sharp tip of his nose. "Remember the hell you raised for us? You didn't even listen to me. You kept going for us until you succeeded."

But his words fell on deaf ears; something he wasn't used to coming from her. "Steve, you're scaring me! Let me go!" A thick bile settled at the base of her throat as she tried to break free, crying a bit harder now. 

"There, you said it yourself. You said Steve!" Her obvious unwillingness to this position seemed to not faze him one bit. "Silly girl! How can you call me by my name and then say that it's not me?" 

"Because you're not my Steve!" Fear was making her chest contract as she seethed out breathlessly. 

"Come on!" One of his hands trailed down her body as he caressed and groped her tits before slipping his hand under her dress. "Not your Steve?" 

"No. Your hands are big and rough! Your body is hard! You don't even smell the same! I DON'T feel you so stop!" A twisted smile now spreads on his priorly hurt features. 

"I see…" Steve lowered his head momentarily before he sighed a little. "Then," a resolution flashed in the brilliant blue of his eyes, "I guess I just have to show you that it's still me." 

. . .

[the-sisters-madrigal]

t it's not even that noticeable, just maybe a handshake that lasts a touch too long or someone standing a couple inches too close, and so it's not anything major, and if course in that situation she'd probably want to believe that it doesn't mean anything, so she keeps her mouth shut and- okay yeah I've thought about this. Sorry for rambling, I just... *gestures vaguely* This story of thing is... an element that interests me, you know? argh that still sounds weird!

A/N: Don't worry! You don't sound weird at all! I just finished this request finally, and I'm sorry that it took me so long to do it! Life's been crazy and inspiration has hopped from fandom to fandom 🥴

I hope you enjoy this one! I really enjoyed writing it! 💖💖💖

Word Count: 4.7k+

   The last thing Isabela had really been planning to do today was quite literally run into someone.

   But she had been in a hurry that morning. Pepa had been less than perfectly agreeable, and Abuela had said that someone needed to fetch her some chocolate or some sort of comfort food to help calm her. Since Luisa had gone into town to do chores already and Mirabel had been preoccupied doing something with their mother, Isabela had offered to do it.

   Which brought her to where she was now.

   “Oh, I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to bump into you!” Isabela apologized despite the fact she was feeling some amount of irritation at the man for not looking where he was going. She had her hands full with chocolate and had been looking inside of the bag to make sure she had gotten everything she needed, so she could not exactly be held responsible for looking out for foot traffic.

   “Oh, no, Señorita, I apologize for bumping into you,” he returned the apology as he bent down to help her pick up her bag. She took it from him, aiming to start back toward Casita since the confrontation was over and conflict was successfully avoided. However, he stopped her.

   “Hola, I’m Julio. I’m new in town,” he introduced. Isabela blinked but smiled nevertheless, extending her hand to meet his and shake it kindly.

   “Hola, I’m—”

   “No need to introduce yourself. I know who you are,” he interrupted, his eyes half-lidded and a smirk underneath his mustache as he eyed her.

   “Oh, yes, I guess you probably would. My family has a reputation around here,” Isabela conceded, unable to help the slight discomfort as she realized he still had not released her hand. She was stricken with the sudden desire to rip her hand away, but she pushed that down, figuring he would release her in a few moments.

   “No, I heard about you upon your own merit. Your beauty is beyond breathtaking, and those vines,” he practically purred, his voice lowering as he seemed to move onto a completely different train of thought.

   Isabela laughed somewhat uncomfortably as she finally decided to gingerly pull her hand back under the guise of brushing a hand through her hair. She was not sure what to make of him, but he was leaving her less than perfectly at ease.

   “Thank you, but trust me, my family is full of breathtaking people that are much better than me. They’re amazingly talented,” Isabela tried to redirect him on a different track that was nothing to do with she herself.

   However, he still seemed to be staring at her with far too much interest. Isabela could not help but notice how his gaze kept dipping down just a little too far for her liking.

   Isabela swallowed, infinitely thankful that she was not wearing a lower-cut dress.

   “Do you think you could possibly show me some of those vines?” he asked, trying to pull off something that he must have thought was suave.

   Isabela instantly saw the slightly darker and lustful glint in his eyes and she instantly knew that he definitely had some sort of an obsession with the vines in a manner that definitely was outside of what was acceptable. Isabela laughed once more, not sure what in the world else to do.

   Thankfully, before she had to answer that question, she heard a familiar voice speak up behind her.

   “Hey, sis, this guy bothering you?” Luisa asked, that strong yet gentle voice speaking up steadfastly behind her. Isabela did not think that she had ever been so thankful in her life to hear Luisa.

   He instantly backed away a little, seemingly taking in the sheer size of Luisa and deciding that he was not even going to try to speak to Isabela with her around.

   “Oh, no, I was just introducing myself,” he assured Luisa, and Isabela could feel Luisa’s arm brush softly against her own as she towered behind her and over the both of them.

   “Yes, um… He was just… introducing himself,” Isabela confessed, trailing off a little as she looked at him and decided to go along with his statement for the sake of simplicity. After all, she might have just been looking into all of this too much and she could be overreacting.

   She glanced up at Luisa as she spoke, and she noticed Luisa’s slightly narrowed eyes and furrowed brow. Ultimately, if one did not know she was one of the most softspoken, tender-hearted people in the Encanto, one would assume that she might be in the mood to pummel someone.

    “Well, it was good meeting you. I must be going, but hopefully we will meet again,” he spoke, managing to gain enough confidence to speak to her again since Luisa had not really spoken or tried to threaten him as he had apparently been afraid she would.

   As he was hurrying away, Luisa’s hand softly squeezed Isabela’s shoulder.

   “I saw he was making you uncomfortable. I could hear you fake-laughing all the way through the alley,” Luisa told her, and Isabela did not say anything, just watching him leave as she remained terribly perplexed about the entire situation.

   Despite the fact that Isabela was more outspoken about her feelings nowadays, she still tried to be as kind to the villagers as she could despite it all. Old habits die hard, and even when people like this guy bothered her and were almost creepy, she still knew better than to actually act outrightly against them.

   Granted, if such things were to do with her two younger sisters, she would have no qualms about tearing in vines-first and hanging the harasser by their toe, but given the fact that it was she herself, she pushed those urges aside in favor of being the level-headed Isabela that everyone in town knew.

   But she still was just not entirely sure if she was being paranoid or not. She did not want to falsely accuse someone, after all. Even if they did seem shady at best.

   “You okay?”

   Isabela was quickly drawn from her thoughts, and she snapped out of it quickly, turning her attention to Luisa more fully as she shook her head.

   “Yeah— yes. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, Lu,” Isabela assured her, a gentleness in her tone as she addressed her. Luisa still looked a little concerned, but before she could speak, someone from the other side of the street started to call her over for her help. Luisa looked in their direction before swiftly turning back to glance at Isabela.

   “Are you sure?”

   “Yes. Now go get to work. Your público awaits,” Isabela shooed her away, making a slight joke. She earned a small huff out of her younger sister, but Luisa still looked at her skeptically as she finally walked away. Isabela waved to her, sending her off.

   As soon as Luisa was preoccupied, Isabela let out a soft sigh. She looked around the area surrounding her, trying to make sure the guy was not around before she started to head in a different direction than she had seen him go.

   Maybe that was the last she would see of him or at least the last that she would have to handle his creepy ways.

   If only she knew…

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

   Throughout the week, she swiftly started to notice that the guy seemed to be following her. He was mysteriously popping up everywhere throughout town, and it was always in places that Isabela had to be.

   Isabela had grown quite uncomfortable, but so far, she had done a mostly good job of steering a wide berth around him, and if all else failed, she would take time to see Luisa when she spotted her working in order to deter him from coming to actually speak to her or try anything else. Luisa seemed to be the only thing keeping him at bay when it came to her.

   It was evident that he must have simply viewed Luisa for her outward appearance, because if he had observed her as he had been watching Isabela, he would have quickly figured out that Luisa was not too threatening despite her size and strength. Nevertheless, Isabela was definitely not complaining.

   However, as wonderful of a buffer as Luisa had been, the unfortunate part was that just when Isabela needed her most, Luisa happened to be on the opposite side of town.

   “So we meet again,” he pointed out, and Isabela forced a smile on her face as she turned to face him.

   Despite the fact that she was being nice, she did not put a ton of effort into trying to look overly friendly as she had at their last meeting. She was really getting tired of seeing his face around town everywhere she went and some part of her was hoping that perhaps a slight lack of enthusiasm would diminish a bit of this weirdness he had about her.

   It was not that Isabela could not stand up for herself, but she did not want to cause trouble when it was really more of a her-problem. This did not exactly directly affect anyone else and as long as he kept his hands to himself, she figured that she should handle it calmly and without too much fuss.

   “Yes. I suppose we do,” Isabela agreed somewhat awkwardly, wishing that Luisa would show up again since she was the only person that even knew of this guy’s existence.

   Granted, Luisa did not know the extent to which this guy was being creepy, but she had seen him the other day when Isabela had spoken to him. So, ultimately, she was aware enough of his ways to come and interfere if she saw him speaking to Isabela again.

   “And let me say, I’ve noticed how incredibly good you are with the kids here. You actually seem to spend more time with the kids than the townspeople.”

   “Well, kids are the ones that want flowers most often, so I do what’s needed.”

   “I bet you do…”

   “What do you say we go for a little walk? Maybe you could show me a little of that special gift of yours,” he told her, drawing nearer as he grew uncomfortably close. His voice had dropped a few octaves, and his eyes were filled with a certain desirous determination.

   Isabela stiffened, freezing up just a bit as she wracked her brain for a polite response and some manner of an excuse.

   However, she was soon saved by the bell not for the first time that week.

   “Hiya, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Mirabel, Isabela’s youngest sister,” Mirabel’s voice suddenly piped up as she poked her head around Isabela’s arm, her eyes locked on the guy before Isabela that had gotten just a bit too close.

   He backed up a little, looking at her in surprise, and Mirabel moved so that she was standing next to Isabela.

   “Hola… Umm, me and your hermana were just talking, so,” he tried to tell Mirabel, not so subtly cuing her to leave them alone.

   Isabela was honestly not worried about that happening, though. She could read the stubbornness and determination in Mirabel’s stance as she stood next to her, and she knew that Mirabel must have understood enough about the situation to recognize the need for interference that Isabela could not do herself.

   “Oh, you guys were talking? That’s so cool, because I love talking. Talking’s my favorite. By the way, what’s your name?” Mirabel kept talking in a constant ramble as she came closer to him, moving more so that she was in front of Isabela.

   Isabela almost laughed at the look on the creep’s face as Mirabel just plowed right through, hardly giving him a chance to reply with his name before continuing on.

   “Julio… That’s crazy. Our mom’s name is Julieta, so that’s crazy. It’s almost the exact same but like a girl and guy version,” Mirabel stated, moving nearer. He instantly started stepping back to move away from her a little.

   “So are you like an uncle we didn’t hear of? We had an uncle that disappeared for years. His name’s Bruno. You might have seen him around town. Always has a rat on his shoulder?” Mirabel asked, gesturing to her shoulder for emphasis, and the man shook his head, not knowing how to respond as he looked longingly at Isabela.

   “I’m afraid I haven’t—”

   “Oh, that’s fine. Bruno’s the best, though, so you should totally meet him. Hey, you should meet the whole family. Our aunt’s awesome, but she has a tendency to start literal tornadoes and stuff when she’s stressed or mad, but don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll love you,” Mirabel continued to babble on, and he instantly looked nervous as he continued backing away and Mirabel kept following him as she moved closer and kept up her ongoing conversation.

   Isabela was about to laugh, but she did her best not to because she did not want to give him any encouragement to stay. However, after Mirabel had successfully talked his ears off within the first three minutes of knowing him, he probably would not stay even if Isabela would have asked him to.

   “Oh, no, that’s quite alright. I’ve got to be going anyways—”

   “So soon?!”

   “Yes, yes, I’m very busy—”

   “Well, hey, I get that. Don’t be a stranger! Feel free to come and visit and see our whole family. They might be capable of creating tornadoes, shapeshifting, hearing everything, and crushing boulders, but they’re really a super sweet bunch!” Mirabel assured him as he turned and left the scene quickly.

   Mirabel waved to him excitedly.

   “See you around, amigo!” she called.

   Once he was out of the line of sight, she turned back toward Isabela with self-satisfaction written in her features, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Isabela allowed herself a laugh, and Mirabel puffed up a little more, pride evident in her every move despite the glint in her eye that indicated her suspiciousness.

   “You are aware that you did actually get a gift, right?” Isabela questioned with a grin, trying to throw Mirabel a little off of her track.

   Mirabel instantly looked at her in complete confusion, her smile fading away as she stared at Isabela and tried to figure out what she was talking about.

   “What?”

   “You’ve got the gift of gab,” Isabela replied, and Mirabel instantly narrowed her eyes playfully at her, scoffing.

   “You’re hilarious,” Mirabel sarcastically shot back. Isabela allowed herself a bit of a hair flip.

   “I know,” Isabela tried to remain upbeat, confident, and playful as she generally was with Mirabel these days.

   After all, she knew Mirabel was a tad more stubborn than Luisa was, so if she actually acted like something was wrong, Mirabel would push to find out what was really going on and Isabela would have to admit that this guy had been bothering her.

   At this point, she was a little embarrassed to let anyone know that she had let this go on for so long. She also did not really want Mirabel or Luisa to go to any trouble on her behalf. She was the oldest sister, and she should be able to take care of herself.

   More than that, though, after all the trouble she had put her two younger sisters through, she did not want them to have to protect her from this. It was her job to do that for them now since she had most of Mirabel and Luisa’s life to make up for.

   “What’s up with the guy?” Mirabel asked, as shrewd and quick on the uptake as ever. Isabela just shrugged a little.

   “I don’t know. He’s new around, and I think he’s just a little smitten with our family and the gifts,” Isabela replied simply, trying her best to muster nonchalance.

   It was not entirely a lie. He was smitten with the family and the gifts. It just happened to be that it was not so much the rest of the family and that it was mostly her being the primary object of that obsession.

   Mirabel did not seem to be entirely buying it, and Isabela efforted to keep her face as calm as it would be normally. She knew that if she forced a smile or any sort of extreme emotion, Mirabel would somehow know it was fake and resolve to get to the bottom of it all.

   “He really seemed to like you,” Mirabel pointed out astutely, and Isabela shrugged.

   “It’s probably just a crush. Who knows?” Isabela tried to play it off, and Mirabel looked at her for a long moment.

   Feeling the pressure of her youngest sister’s insistent gaze, Isabela let out a soft breath, looking around as she desperately tried to spot any sort of a distraction.

   She soon spotted a group of little girls that she had promised to grow flowers for so that they could put them in their hair, and she felt relief wash over her. She looked back at Mirabel, offering her as genuine of a smile as she could manage.

   “I almost forgot. I’ve got to go over here and grow these girls some flowers. I’ll see you later, mariposa,” Isabela told her, quickly excusing herself as she escaped the situation.

   She honestly half-expected Mirabel to follow her, but to her surprise, she did not. Isabela took in a deep breath as she approached the kids, mustering a smile on her face.

   It was probably just a crush like she told Mirabel. He would surely be over it by the end of this week.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

   As it turned out, he was definitely not over it by the end of the week.

   It was during the afternoon when it all came to a head. She had made the decision to duck into an alleyway to try to escape the guy’s view and head home. She was doing her best to avoid confrontation because the last thing she wanted was to make a scene in front of the other townspeople.

   Isabela was a lot different now than she had been before the fall of Casita, and the townspeople now had mixed feelings about her current identity. She did not want them to see her fighting a man and solidify the negative opinions of her and, by extension, of the family.

   “You’re an elusive one, aren’t you?” his voice piped up, and Isabela instantly realized that he was behind her. 

   It was also about that time that she realized the gate at the end of the alleyway was shut and locked.

   She had successfully trapped herself in an alleyway with this guy.

   She swallowed, readying herself to fight in any way she had to in order to escape this situation. At this point, it did not matter so much what the townspeople thought. She wanted to avoid a fight if she could, but she was not above doing what she absolutely had to.

   “Listen, you have been following me and watching me all week, and it’s honestly starting to get insanely creepy, so can you please stop?” Isabela told him, her voice firm as she lost all pretenses of niceties.

   He raised his eyebrows at her.

   “Wow… You have a fiery side. I like it. Of course, I knew that you could not always be pure grace in every moment,” he stated as he came closer. Isabela straightened a little, preparing herself as the nerves balled up inside of her.

   “Just let me pass by. I’ve got to go home,” Isabela informed him firmly, starting to try to move around him. He held out an arm, blocking her path, and she backed up, trying to keep him from putting his hands on her.

   “Going so soon? We have hardly had a chance to talk this week, and I would love to get to know you better,” he stated, moving increasingly nearer.

   “I’m sorry to say the feeling’s not mutual. Now. Move out of my way,” Isabela warned, growing increasingly agitated as she looked at him.

   “Or?” he questioned, almost looking amused.

   Isabela narrowed her eyes, having about all that she could stand of this man and his frustrating ways. Vines grew near her, launching upward as they prepared to string him up by his legs and move him out of her way.

   However, taking her off-guard, he suddenly smirked.

   “Oh, yeah, show me what exactly those vines can do,” he flirtatiously encouraged, and she instantly stopped, the vines disappearing as she drew back in utter disgust.

   She could hardly even bring herself to put her vines near him after his disgusting, twisted obsession with them. It felt like she was being violated despite the vines not actually being something necessarily attached to her in the way of a body part.

   He stepped closer to her, his hands reaching out for her, and panic was controlling her every thought as she almost froze, never having encountered anything like this before. She had been fawned over throughout her life, but not to the point that someone was trying to assault her or lay their hands on her.

   However, before she could fully comprehend what was happening, he suddenly was lifted into the air. He let out a startled yelp, and Isabela’s eyes widened as she took in the sight before her.

   To Isabela’s absolute surprise, it was Luisa.

   She had grabbed the man and was holding him upside down by his leg. She lifted him up so that he met her eyes and while she did not seem like she was going to necessarily do him any harm, she did have a resolved look in her eyes that was not quite characteristic of her.

   Luisa lowered him down to Mirabel’s eye level, and she looked him right in the eyes with a fierceness that strangely stirred some sense of pride within her.

   “If I see you bothering my sister again, I will have Luisa here crush you like a grape,” Mirabel warned, dead seriousness in her voice.

   While Isabela knew that Luisa would never do that, he did not seem to be aware of that at all as he gaped at her with comically wide eyes. Luisa even seemed to be a bit shocked at Mirabel’s words, and she almost seemed as if she were considering saying something to lessen the severity of the statement when Mirabel interrupted once more.

   “And if she doesn’t do the job, I can personally guarantee that I and the rest of our family will make your life absolute and complete torture,” Mirabel promised, and he seemed to believe her completely as he stared at her with utter horror.

   “Are we clear on what you’re going to do?”

   “Si, si, I will not speak to her again,” he promised, his voice shaking and quick as Mirabel made her threats. Mirabel looked at him for a long moment before nodding to Luisa.

   “Let him go,” Mirabel nodded her head, and Luisa dropped him down a little further before letting go of him and allowing him to fall onto the ground.

   “See you later, amigo,” Mirabel told him, her voice completely dead and devoid of emotion as he scurried off and away.

   As soon as he was gone, Mirabel looked at Isabela carefully, her gaze shifting quickly as she inspected her. Luisa stepped closer as well, her soft eyes offering Isabela a onceover.

   Isabela flashed her a gentle glance, assuring her she was okay. Catching the expression, Mirabel seemed satisfied with her search, and she then looked terribly unhappy.

   “Have you lost your mind?! Isa, Luisa asked you if this guy was bothering you several days ago, and I checked on you, too, and you still didn’t say anything!” Mirabel instantly launched into fussing, and Isabela chose to ignore her complaints for the moment, directing her attentions to Luisa.

   “How did you guys know I needed help?” Isabela asked, and Mirabel instantly looked less than impressed at Isabela’s obvious redirection. Luisa looked at her somewhat worriedly and sadly.

   “Dolores heard you and told us,” Luisa softly answered, her voice quiet. Isabela could read the pleading in her gaze as she glanced between the youngest and oldest sisters, and Isabela instantly felt a pang of guilt.

   “Now that that’s out of the way, why didn’t you say anything?!!!” Mirabel demanded not giving Isabela any more room to fight her. Isabela sighed deeply, looking down as she resigned herself to admitting the truth.

   “Look, I had it under control, but—”

   “You call almost being assaulted under control?!” Mirabel stopped her, not giving her time to speak.

   “Listen,” Isabela insistently interrupted, her gaze meeting Mirabel’s in a soft warning as she tried to get the youngest to pay attention. Mirabel just let out a breath, but she quieted, seemingly waiting for Isabela to offer her own explanation for everything.

    Isabela looked down at the ground before meeting her little sisters’ eyes.

   “I didn’t want to bother you guys with this. I’m used to people bothering me or talking to me all the time, and while he was a little creepy, I thought I might be overreacting. It just sort of slowly got more and more weird and then he cornered me here,” Isabela explained, pausing for a moment as she thought it all over.

   “And then I guess I figured out he was definitely a creep,” Isabela breathed, and Luisa and Mirabel just stared at her blankly for a moment. Luisa was the first to speak, albeit a short reply.

   “Isa,” Luisa trailed off, sounding almost anguished as she eyed Isabela gently.

   “If you would’ve told us, we could’ve helped you,” Mirabel expressed, her voice somewhat pained.

   Isabela shook her head insistently.

   “You two are my baby sisters. You’re not supposed to save me from everything,” Isabela told them.

   “But we’re here for you,” Mirabel argued.

   “Just like you’re here for us,” Luisa chimed in, those painfully soft mocha browns boring into Isabela’s own darker ones.

   “But for most of our lives, I wasn’t there for either of you while both of you would have been there for me. I need to make up for lost time, and neither of you should have to help me. I’m here for you now.”

   “Just because we’ve always been there for you even in the times that you weren’t for us doesn’t mean that we’re going to just abandon you,” Mirabel told her, and Isabela could not help the slight sting at the words despite the fact that they were true. Something about them being actually said out loud by Mirabel made her feel even more guilty than usual.

   “We don’t have to take turns on who is there for who,” Mirabel added to her previous statement. Luisa nodded.

   “We should all be there for each other always,” Luisa expressed, and Isabela looked at her carefully, her heart softening at the sight of her.

   “And sometimes one of us is going to need more than the other two. And that’s okay, Isa. Just like you’ll be there for us, we just want to be there when you need us,” Mirabel reassured her, nothing but love in her words.

   Isabela swallowed, feeling a lump in her throat that she was desperately trying to fight as she looked at her younger sisters. Her amazing, incredible, sweet, generous, forgiving younger sisters that she definitely would never deserve in this lifetime.

   Isabela stepped closer, pulling Mirabel into a tight hug with one arm as she reached for Luisa and grabbed at her waist to pull her closer. Mirabel was quick to hug her firmly in return with one arm around Luisa as well, and Luisa stepped closer, one large arm wrapping around Isabela’s body and touching Mirabel’s arm while the other wrapped around Mirabel’s body.

   “Gracias. Muchísimas gracias,” Isabela murmured.

   “De nada, but we love you,” Mirabel stated, the words serving as a simple explanation and a rebuttal to why Isabela should not have to express her gratitude. Isabela nodded against them, her forehead pressed somewhere against Luisa’s stomach at this point.

   “I know. That’s part of the reason for the thank you,” Isabela whispered, not trusting her voice right now.

   Luisa’s arm tightened around her, and Mirabel’s swiftly followed suit.

   “You don’t ever have to thank us for that.”

   “We’ll always love you and be there for you, hermana.”

   Isabela did not know how she had gotten so lucky, but she won the jackpot when it came to amazing siblings.

   She had the best sisters in the world.

[miitopiaenjoyer]

POV he is looking

[ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm]

Letters in Transition, 8 May 2022

A collaborative correspondence between @academicdisasterfic and I, inspired by our encounters with fic as queer, trans boys. Letters, words and art exchanged at the start of an unrestrained life.Previous entries can be found here. The fics mentioned in this letter are Edward Nashton Gets the Netflix Original High-school Romance He Deserves by scribbleshrimp, and Away Childish Things by lettered.

Dear Rooney,

I think a lot has changed in the world and with ourselves between our last two letters.

You’ve now moved! This blooming temperate ground that’s all I’ve ever known welcomes you and rejoices in your every new step.

I just came out to my parents. It happened a few hours ago. Out of the very limited number of people in my life, they were the last to know. I think this detail in particular caused my mother a lot of pain - why leave them out of this big thing in my life? Why exclude from this journey that which she sees as my true home: herself.

I knew it was going to happen today, and so I’ve been a swarm of bees about it all morning, or possibly my whole life. You know how it goes - in the face of a discerning mother, all arguments fall apart. And so I think I’ve made this effort to bulletproof the…explanation of my identity, in the fear that some well-meaning but nevertheless painful hand will begin to poke holes in it. In this home you talk about. In my home, in my body that extends beyond me because of my minds image, because of an excess of hope, because of the pocket dimension that our identity stretches into.

You call acts of horror on our community and on our extended being attacks on your home. This is exactly what it feels like. It’s also, I’ve realized, what the accompanying fear is like. When I was a child, my home got broken into, and a few months later, a small 9 year old joy stopped a second burglary from happening. It left me with a strange, lingering tension that follows me around, and I never noticed that it’s that same tension I associate with the urge to keep my transness, and by extension all transness, safe.

As I was saying, I knew it was going to happen, so I tried to promise myself that no matter what happens, I would somehow be okay. And you know what the only thing I could come up with was? I got a notification that a WIP I’m reading just updated, and I said to myself: whatever happens, you are still going to go home, and sit on the couch, and read that new chapter. God I know that our own strength and confidence should be enough, but I am always overjoyed by how many trans people reinforce their homes with other things. I am so glad I reinforce mine with stories.

The fic I was so eager to come home to is not in the HP fandom, it’s a Batman fic. It’s very lighthearted, but the author has a very special and illuminating way of describing various forms of discomfort, discontent with the self. One of the lines that’s stuck with me since I first read it a few days ago was “I’m not a good ghost: I don't inhabit myself entirely.” What a line! What an idea! And isn’t that just what this all is? The evaluations, the repackaging of yourself to fit into digestible and understandable definitions. As though you are a spirit being instructed to haunt only some corners of the house. Like you, I have always, even before I had the language to understand myself, hoped for this nebulous feeling of completely inhabiting something - a home, a discipline, a self. To be kept away from that is an act of forceful displacement.

Everything went well. It went better than expected. It went better than I could have hoped, because I didn’t dare to hope when I was smaller, and my hope was timid when I grew.

My mother’s only concern is for my safety, as our actual home is unsafe for people like us. It’s not fair, to have an asterisk on your joy and freedom that requires you to be quiet, to be - in the words of lettered’s draco - discreet. That part of her response was the only one that broke my heart.

But with each new act of coming out, with each new effort to be true to myself and to my dreams, the spell that keeps my spirit bound to only half my home unwinds.

Rooney, I want us to be good ghosts. I want to inhabit myself entirely.

You walk through an unfamiliar landscape, I return home to my couch.

Inside, our homes feel more real than before.

love

joy

[emeren]

speed racer- eren jaeger

pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader 

word count: 6k

content warnings: nsfw, smut, 18+, smoking, degradation, overstimulation, breeding (w/o baby talk) 

notes: 100% inspired by the official art, like mmm yes please. also i know absolutely nothing about how car racing works, but that’s not important. this is unedited because my brain turned to mush writing it. enjoy!! <3

SUMMARY: eren’s a semi-professional car racer, who has a tumultuous friendship with the reader. after losing a race, eren sets out to win something else in his life, much to the reader’s surprise. 

“took you long enough!” sasha called out, holding her hand above her eyes in an attempt to block out the bright sun. you dished her a smile, weaving your way through the throngs of people in the stands, attempting not to step on anyone. your eyes briefly flitted to the track, the assistants distantly getting their cars ready. they were hardly visible from here; merely faceless figures idling around. you heaved out a sigh as you reached sasha, the brunette gingerly patting the spot next to her. 

“you couldn’t have gotten better seats, sash?” you asked as you sat down, pushing your sunglasses on top of your head. sasha waved her large bag of popcorn in front of your face, an exasperated expression on her features. 

“the line was long, and what’s a race without popcorn?” she grinned, offering you the bag. you rolled your eyes but took a fistful of the bright yellow snack nonetheless. “plus, if you really wanted that good of seats, you would’ve come early yourself.” 

“i did come here early,” you retorted, your voice muffled by the popcorn. sasha raised a questioning brow, her elbow nudging you in the side. 

“getting here early just so you can poke around the racer’s quarters is not the same thing,” she singsonged, a girlish smirk on her face. you scoffed, turning away from her as you felt heat race to your cheeks. “c’mon, everyone knows you and eren are totally into each other. i don’t understand why you guys don’t just go for it.” 

“i wasn’t poking around, and i am not into eren,” you said, shifting uncomfortably as the words left your mouth. it was true, to some degree. the two of you had been friends in high school, back when eren was just some skinny kid with anger issues. now he was a semi-professional racer, and the rivalry between the two of you was palpable, to say the least.

you’d been in the same friend group and for some reason eren just loved to pick on you whenever he got the chance. you suspected it had something to do with his repressed daddy issues or whatever, and he’d known mikasa and armin far too long to be so catty with them. initially they were just playful taunts, but as you got older, they started to become more personal. with age came your own unchecked need to banter and argue with him. 

somewhere along the way the arguments turned to sexual tension. a sexual tension that for the most part, the two of you were happy to ignore. it allowed room for a more sassy friendship, at least. 

“uh huh, suuure,” sasha responded, seemingly unconvinced. she must’ve sensed your discomfort, deciding to change the topic. “who’s who?” 

your eyes traced the track, analyzing each vehicle. “armin’s in yellow, mikasa’s in red, eren’s in white, and i believe levi is in green.” 

“levi’s racing? isn’t he getting a little old for that?” sasha laughed, squinting. you chuckled. 

“it’s just a small fundraiser race, plus he’s a crowd favorite over here,” you explained. sasha nodded as she processed the information. the sun was hot, beating down on your back. “i’m honestly surprised this many people came out.” 

sasha tossed more popcorn in her mouth, halfway done with the bag despite the race still not having started. she offered it to you again. “mhm, this is the same type of crowd that we’d see in the underground.” 

you thought back to your days of attending the illegal races, late at night and under the cover of darkness. though you were just a junior in college, it felt like those nights freshman year had been decades ago. that was before eren showed real promise in the professional circuit. it was also where levi scouted him out to be his successor. 

as if on cue, you could see the figures of the racers emerging from the port, each headed for their respective cars. you couldn’t help the way your gaze immediately followed the tall, brown haired racer adorned in his white racing jacket, checkers on the side. the crowd erupted into cheers at the sight of the all the racers, one from each color of the rainbow. eren walked with a certain confidence, his adamant determination being one of the only things that followed him from high school. 

though you couldn’t clearly see his face from where you sat, you knew he was smiling. eren had always loved the adrenaline rush before a race. 

“alright ladies and gentlemen, we welcome you to the annual shiganshina fundraiser race!” the reporter boomed over the intercom. sasha squealed in her seat, excitedly gripping your arm and pointing towards your friends. you felt a mix of excited nervousness waft over you, giggling along with her. “today we’ve got racers from all over the circuit, and each one has volunteered their precious time for the cause. can we get a round of applause?” 

the crowd erupted in yet another ear deafening round of applause as the announcer read off the names of each of the racers. you and sasha made sure to scream your loudest when armin, mikasa, and eren’s names were read off. 

you hoped they knew it was you, your throat scratchy as you sat back down. there was no need to be loud for levi; the entire crowd went absolutely feral at the mention of his name. 

the announcer read off the conditions of the race, as well as the reasoning for the fundraiser itself. you and sasha chatted quietly about the after party while the racers put their helmets on and got in their cars. before too long, the announcer was gearing up for the start. 

“alright everyone, we’re about to start. get yourselves ready.” 

you and sasha stood, hollering and cheering for your friends as the cars all lined up. you knew you’d be happy if any of them crossed the finish line first, but it was undeniable that it would be eren. it wasn’t armin or mikasa’s passion like it was eren’s; they viewed it more as as fun hobby. nevertheless, you dreaded how smug eren would be once he added another win to his already growing list. he really was a bastard sometimes. 

“racers ready your cars. 3... 2... 1... go!” 

they were off, levi’s green car easily settling into first place, cruising past the other cars as he whipped around the first curve. you held your breath, eyes scanning the other cars placements. eren was in fourth, armin in fifth, and mikasa in second. sasha yelled sporadically, reaching out and squeezing your wrist tightly. 

as they rounded the circuit for the second time, eren passed the third place racer, coming up behind mikasa’s red car. you held your breath. “c’mon eren...” 

“shit! he passed her!” sasha screeched, jumping up and down. you smiled as he whipped the corner, nearly cutting the edge of the median. 

“levi is still so far ahead,” you commented, trying to pry sasha’s death grip from your wrist. your eyes glanced to the clock, realizing that the race was near its finish. levi was cutting the third corner and eren was quickly gaining on him. 

“looks like it’s gonna be clo-” sasha’s voice was cut off as a large man tripped over the bleacher behind you, effectively shoving you into her side. “shit, the popcorn!” 

you regained your balance, giving the man behind you a dirty glare as you turned to sasha. she frowned at the popcorn that’d been spilled all over the ground. “what a waste!” 

looking back up at the track, the crowd broke into screams of excitement. you expected to see eren’s face on the big screen to the side as confetti streamed through the air, but were surprised to see levi’s unimpressed stare. 

eren lost? 

“you’ve gotta be shitting me,” sasha gaped, her face slack in shock. you shrugged, shaking the feeling of disappointment from your shoulders. serves him right. 

people started to vacate the stands, shoving their way past you as you turned to sasha. “let’s go find connie and jean, sash.” 

she nodded, still frowning. the two of you climbed down the steps, going against the flow of the crowd as you weaseled your way down onto the spectators path. you could see all of the racers shaking hands, congratulating each other. your mind briefly considered whether or not eren was going to be upset, but you decided not to dwell on it. 

you watched as the racers disappeared into the tunnel, eren’s tall figure no longer in view. just then, connie and jean came walking out from the service booth, both wearing their maintenance coveralls. 

sasha wildly waved her arm, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the remaining stragglers towards your friends. 

“hey guys!” she smiled, the boys jogging to meet you halfway. 

“why were you guys in such shit seats?” connie asked, skipping over a greeting. you let out a small laugh at sasha’s expense. she merely shrugged, turning to jean. 

“we going to your place?” you questioned before she had the chance. jean nodded, adjusting the backwards baseball cap on his head. 

“yeah, just gotta wrap some things up, then we can head out,” he replied. you grew happy at the thought of kicking back with your friends, enjoying a nice night of fun. parties at jean and connie’s place were always the best. 

***************

“some race that was,” connie groaned, leaning back and bringing the beer bottle to his lips. so far it was just you, sasha, connie, jean, and a bunch of random drunk people who’d come from the track. sasha scoffed from her spot on the worn, brown couch. 

“you could say that again,” she grumbled. “we didn’t even get to see levi cross the finish line ‘cause some guy rammed into us.” 

jean looked at you from where he leaned against the wall, a bottle in his hand and his eyebrows raised. “wait, for real?” 

“yeah,” you sighed, drinking whatever bitter liquid sasha had poured into your red solo cup. “didn’t even say sorry.” 

“how many times do i have to tell you guys, just come work maintenance with jean-boy and i,” connie suggested, wrapping his arm around sasha’s shoulder and giving a squeeze. she rolled her eyes and shoved him off. “you guys would get to watch the race from the track itself.” 

“i don’t know the first thing about cars,” sasha laughed, you nodding along with her. 

“and you think we do? i just said that so we could get the best seats in the house,” connie snorted, taking another swig of his drink. you chuckled at his idiocy, unfazed by yet another one of their stupid stunts. “where’re the big racers anyway?” 

“they should be here soon,” you responded, glancing out the window. jean was unironically blasting the fast and the furious soundtrack, something he’d done after every race for as long as you’d known him. by now the songs were ingrained in your brain. 

“who wants to bet jaeger is in a pissy mood?” jean snorted as he moved to sit down on the arm of the chair you were planted in. 

“when isn’t he?” you sneered. connie and sasha hummed in agreement. both you and jean loved nothing more than to push eren’s buttons. you knew jean’s motives stemmed from some boyish fun, whereas yours felt a little more personal. 

the sound of clapping began to compete with the music, your neck craning to look past jean into the hallway. eren, armin, and mikasa came into view, people cheering them on and patting them on the back. they each wore their racing jackets over their street clothes. 

you felt a familiar sensation burn in your stomach at the sight of eren. his dark hair was pulled back per usual, wispies framing his tan face. The white jacket stood out against his black t-shirt and black jeans; key necklace he always wore glinting against his chest. as your gaze travelled up from his body, you were startled to make contact with his teal eyes. you quickly glanced away in embarrassment. 

“well, well, well,” jean cheered, raising his bottle to the trio. “how’d it feel to lose to a short, old man, eh jaeger?”

eren scowled, obviously peeved. “if i had to lose to anyone, i’m glad it was levi.” 

connie snorted at that. “man, professional circuit has you soft.” 

“whatever you say, baldie,” eren smirked mischievously as he came to sit down on the couch. connie defensively rubbed his head. “at least i’m making money in prof.” 

“i still can’t believe you have people that actually want to sponsor you,” you snipped, a playful expression on your face. eren lazily looked towards you, the familiar irritation laced in his eyes. 

“i’m sorry, what was that? i wasn’t listening to you,” eren retorted, looking as unbothered as ever. you glared at his words, but caught armin’s disapproving eye and decided to stay quiet. 

as the night carried on, you watched your friends relax and reminisce about previous races and the days spent in the illegal ring. it seemed crazy that your life was so centered around car races, when you weren’t even a racer yourself. but you supposed you were just happy to be supporting your friends.

at some point you got up out of your chair to refill your cup. the large hoards of people had started to dance; the house feeling hot and humid as you shoved your way to the kitchen. luckily the room was empty, save for armin who was drinking water out of the kitchen tap. 

“thirsty?” you asked, amused. his head snapped up, surprised by your voice. it took one look to tell he was absolutely trashed, face red and eyes half lidded. he smiled goofily and nodded his head before stumbling back out into the crowd of people. 

you quickly filled your cup, following the direction armin had gone. as you stepped out of the kitchen, a body came out of nowhere and smacked into you. 

eren jumped back, trying to avoid the liquid that sloshed out of your cup. “hey, watch it!” he hissed. 

“you watch it, casanova,” you snapped, irritated by the sticky alcohol that dripped down your hand. eren’s eyes narrowed at the nickname, his arms defensively crossing his chest. 

“i told you not to call me that,” he bit back, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. you rolled your eyes, instinctively bringing your hand to your mouth in an attempt to lick the drink off. eren watched you, his gaze clouded with an indiscernible emotion. you knew what you were doing. 

“hm. too bad,” you quipped, dragging your tongue down the side of your hand, popping your pointer finger in your mouth. eren glowered at you as you let out a giggle. “see ya, loser.” 

“whatever, brat,” he huffed, shaking the tension from his pants as you sauntered off into the crowd. he hated the effect you had on him.

you’d already decided not to get shit faced. while the rest of your friends had chosen otherwise, you danced alongside them, your resolve wearing thin much faster than theirs. jean and sasha bounced happily up and down, screaming the lyrics to whatever song it was blasting from the speakers. connie and mikasa were playing beer pong, and you had no clue where armin and eren had gone.

you heaved in a breath as a sharp pain shot through your side, signaling the end of your dancing career for the night. your two dance partners were too far gone to notice, waving goodbye to you as you stepped out of the sweaty crowd. 

slipping your phone out of your pocket, your eyes nearly popped from your head at the time. two thirty?!

only slightly tipsy, you decided to find jean’s room and call it a night. he’d just have to sleep on the couch. with one hand dragging on the wall, you made your way through the house, past armin who was doing body shots with a couple of strangers, up the stairs and down the dark hall. it was quieter up here, but you could still hear the music and knew it’d be awhile till sleep visited you. 

shoving jean’s door open, you were surprised to see none other than eren laid back on the bed, puffs of smoke coming from his mouth. the strong scent of weed hit your nostrils, nose scrunching up in reflex. he propped himself up on one arm upon your entrance, eyeing you. 

“oh, sorry i’ll just- wait a minute,” you paused, narrowing your eyes at him. “you aren’t supposed to be smoking on your sponsorship.” 

eren let out a loud laugh at that, more smoke spilling from his lungs. “thanks, mom. i know.” 

you stood in the doorway, not really sure what to do. “jean’s gonna be mad if his room smells like weed tomorrow.” 

“yeah, why do you think i chose to do it in here?” he leered, bringing the blunt to his lips and deeply inhaling, sharp cheekbones protruding with the action. you sucked in a breath, not wanting to acknowledge just how gorgeous he was. his jacket was off, black shirt tightly gripping his muscular yet slender arms as he propped himself up. he blew the smoke from his nostrils this time, making your face heat. “wanna hit?”  

you sighed, weighing the options. jean’s bed was a lot more comfortable than connie’s. you could just wait till eren was done, and then pass out. “no, but i’ll wait with you till you’re done.” 

“suit yourself, brat,” eren hummed, flopping back down on the bed as you shut the door behind yourself. you came to sit by him, looking down as he heaved in a sober breath. he really is beautiful, you thought. 

your eyes scanned his face. “you really shouldn’t be smoking, you know. you could lose the sponsorship.” 

eren rolled his teal eyes, giving you a side glance. “i’m aware. i’m also aware that you aren’t going to rat on me.” 

“and what makes you so sure?” you asked playfully, your voice low. eren’s gaze shifted to you, placing the blunt between his lips as he sat up, face inches from yours. 

“because. you can act like you hate me all you want,” smoke blew from his lips as he spoke, slowly inching his face closer to yours. you swallowed, eyes struggling to maintain contact with his dark stare. “but i know how badly you want me.” 

you blinked, heart rate accelerating as he glanced at your lips. “speaking from experience?” 

eren’s mouth quirked up in a smirk at your words. “something like that.”

you watched with desire as he brought the bud of the blunt up to his lips, deeply inhaling the toxic smoke. he lifted his free hand, pointer finger gently tracing your jaw as his thumb came up to caress your chin. he tapped softly against your face, as if asking you to open your mouth. 

you weren’t sure what part of you was wanting to submit to his every move. maybe it was the alcohol. or maybe it was the accumulation of sexual tension. something told you it was a deeper itch that needed to be scratched. an itch only eren could reach. 

you parted your lips, eyes fluttering as eren leaned forward and carefully brushed his own against yours, dumping his lungful of smoke into your mouth. you breathed it in, fighting the urge to cough and whine as he pulled away. 

“good girl,” he breathed, leaning away to snuff the bud out on jean’s bedside table. you heaved out as much as you could, shocked by your own willingness. you were mainly surprised by how much you enjoyed whatever that was. 

you stared at him expectantly as he turned back to you, a serious expression on his face. “eren.” 

“yes?” he asked, leaning heavily on his arm, eyes unashamedly focused on your lips. his other hand came up again, lightly ghosting your jawline. you could feel yourself growing wet between your legs; the way eren was fucking you with his eyes sending an unwelcomed throb to your clit. 

acting on impulse, you lurched forward, latching your lips onto eren’s slightly chapped ones. he wasted no time in kissing you back; hungrily pressing himself closer to your body. his lips were warm and tasted like weed and coca cola, his tongue wiggling its way into your mouth where you happily welcomed it. 

you brought your hand up, wanting to run your fingers through his hair, but were stopped when they got caught in the bun. eren grunted, kissing you harder and bringing his own hand up to yank the tie from his locks, letting his soft hair fall to his shoulders. 

your fingers were quick to glide through the brown strands, scratching his scalp in the process. some throaty sound emitted from his chest, the noise making your cunt ache in need. how is he so hot? 

eren’s hands came to your waist, roughly shoving you down onto the bed, so that he hovered above you. your lips continued to meld together, saliva coated mouths wetly intertwined. you removed your hand from his hair, bringing both hands to run down the expanse of his arms that were on either side of your head. you squeezed his biceps, surprised when he suddenly pulled away. 

“is this okay?” he panted, breaths labored. his pupils were dilated, all seriousness behind his gaze. you nodded your head without hesitation, practically begging him to continue. “words.”

“yes, yes. i want this just as much as you do,” you responded. eren smirked from above you, his dark hair swirling around his face as his key dangled in front of your chin. 

“good, because,” he leaned down to your ear, lightly nibbling the lobe as the cold key rested against your throat. “i’m going to punish you for all these years of torture.” 

your eyes widened, the words sending a desirable chill down your spine. “torture?” 

eren’s hot mouth travelled slowly from your ear down the side of your neck, lightly peppering the skin with lustful kisses. his tongue came out as he reached your collarbone, dragging the wet muscle up the front of your throat, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake. a small whimper involuntarily left your mouth as he pulled back, grabbing your chin in his large hand.  

“all of the nicknames,” he pressed a kiss to your lips. “the quips,” and another, your chest tightening. “the stunt you pulled earlier with your hand. oh god. it’s like you were practically begging me to bend you over and teach you a lesson.” 

he pulled back, dark eyes boring into yours. the desire was palpable, your breathing shallow as he stared at you. it was like he was waiting for some silent agreement. 

you held eye contact, tilting your chin back ever so slightly in his grip. “good thing i learn fast.” 

your words flew straight to his cock, throbbing uncomfortably behind his jeans. eren let go of your chin, his lips hungrily reconnecting with yours as his hands pinned your wrists to either side of your head. his tongue was quick to invite itself into your mouth, warm and erotic. 

you wanted to tug on his hair again; wanted to hear his primal groans and feel him vibrate against your mouth, but you were pinned to the bed. desperate to hear eren moan, your teeth grazed his bottom lip, the action making him yank his head back. 

“tsk tsk, none of that,” he growled, wet lips glinting in the low light of the room. “this is your punishment. guess we’re going to have to do something else.” 

you frowned as he let go of your wrists, lifting himself from the bed and standing. you propped yourself up on your elbows, eyes laced with desire as eren swiftly pulled the black shirt over his head, key pendant resting on his newly exposed chest. he was dangerously attractive like this; dark hair disheveled on his shoulders, only adding to the feral stare he was giving you. 

he leaned forward, grabbing your thighs and yanking you to the end of the bed, legs dangling from the side. you watched in awe as he dropped to his knees, fingers coming up to toy with the button of your jean shorts. 

“these little shorts make your ass look so good,” he grumbled, tapping the button. “be good and take them off for me.” 

you wasted no time in lifting your ass off the bed, struggling to yank the denim down your legs without hitting eren in the face. he watched your every movement, licking his lips as you wiggled them off. 

without thinking, your hands gripped the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head to reveal a black bra. eren’s pupils dilated further at the unexpected sight of your breasts. 

he helped pull the shorts from your ankles, tossing them aside as you sat back down, just in your panties and bra. you paused for a moment, unsure of what he was planning to do. 

“watch me,” he demanded, staring at you through his brows. you nodded your head, breath hitching as he placed an open mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh, tongue swiping against the smooth skin. 

his eyelashes fluttered as he licked up your leg; just the way he looked at you being enough to have you creaming in your lace panties. your teeth tugged at your bottom lip, the burning in your face mirroring the way your clit throbbed along with your heart beat. 

eren’s tongue trailed until he reached the edge of your underwear, eyes never failing to stay connected with yours. you swallowed as he lifted his head, placing his tongue flatly against your clothed clit. 

it was a warm, muted feeling, your body all too aware of the beautiful man between your legs. eren brought his fingers up, hooking under the fabric and pushing it to the side. 

“so wet for me already,” he hummed, a smile on his face. you blushed in embarrassment, the feeling of his breath on your glistening pool of moisture making you shiver. “’m gonna eat you so good, little bitch.” 

you gasped as eren rapidly brought his face down, burying his head between your legs. the sensation was like no other; a swirling feeling in your stomach as his tongue hungrily swiped against your clit. your hands flew down to his hair, tugging as his lips wrapped around the bud, suckling softly. 

a moan escaped your lips, the sound causing eren to groan out in reply. the vibration of his vocal cords against your center amplifying the pleasure. 

a distinct feeling began to burn in your chest, the sloppiness of eren’s tongue licking up your slick causing your legs to squirm, tightening around his head. “fuck.”

eren pulled back at the pressure against his skull, a smack sounding through the air as he released his suction on your wet cunt. 

“i told you to be good,” he hissed, lips coated in your sheen. you knew the image of eren’s face between your legs, hair disheveled and mouth swollen, eyes dark and lustrous, would be burned into the back of your brain. 

flustered, you nodded your head, spreading your legs so they weren’t pressing against his face. he nodded in content, arms coming up to wrap around your thighs to keep you steady. 

and he was back; eating your pussy like he hadn’t been fed in years, a primal desperation. he pressed his tongue down harder, the cry ripping from your throat at the sensation only egging him on. you struggled against his grip as he abused your clit with his mouth, sucking and tracing his teeth over it so good. 

his tongue slid down to your entrance, shoving itself in without invitation. the fullness wasn’t like having sex; it was a heated, swirling feeling. the wet muscle circled around your spongey walls, your face beginning to burn and hands growing clammy in eren’s hair. 

you threw your head back as his ministrations sped up, your hips attempting to grind into his face. the warmth in the pit of your stomach building like a loaded gun, ready to release itself. 

all it took was the added pressure of his hand wrapping around your thigh so that his thumb could press against your clit, feverishly rubbing. you came crashing down, your eyes screwing shut as the wave of dopamine stretched to every part of your body, legs jerking against his hold. 

eren pulled his head back again, a smile on his wet face as he licked your release from his lips. “tasted so good, so good for me.” 

you breathed out in reply as he came back up above you, gently taking your chin and bringing his mouth down to yours. 

the kiss was small and simple, your eye lids growing heavy. you could taste your bitter release on him, the unfamiliar flavor not completely unpleasant. 

“sleepy?” eren mumbled against your lips, coming back to look at you. you nodded your head, eyes catching on the key that dangled from his neck. “too bad. we aren’t done with your punishment yet.” 

you frowned, your body suddenly more awake than it was before. “huh?” you asked, sitting up as eren shifted to pull his jeans off. 

you weren’t sure what you expected when he yanked both his jeans and boxers down; you guessed you’d always thought his anger issues were compensation for something. the realization dawned on you that eren had nothing to compensate for as his cock sprung from his pants, the sheer size making your mouth water. 

a smirk crossed his face as he stepped from his jeans. “enjoying the view?” 

“what? no,” you scoffed, averting your gaze. eren crawled back over you, his bare length pressing into your stomach as his hands came up to unclasp your bra. 

“don’t be shy, this is your punishment after all,” he whispered, pulling the cups from your chest. his eyes unashamedly scanned your breasts, a smile tugging his lips as he gave them a generous squeeze. 

you tried to ignore the imprint of him on your stomach; but it was nearly impossible. you could feel the spot between your legs grow wet again, arousal already weaseling its way back into your system.

eren brought his lips to yours once again, the kisses much sloppier and desperate than before. he grunted as you shifted to lay back down, his exposed dick rubbing against your stomach. “can’t wait to be inside of you,” he mumbled against your lips. 

you whimpered at his words, his lips melding with your own while he simultaneously tugged your panties down your legs. he propped himself up with one arm, the other positioning the tip of his cock at the entrance of your already throbbing cunt. 

you took a deep breath as he slowly eased himself into you; the sheer stretch making your eyes lull back in your head. eren moved his hips slowly at first, loosening you up. he was watching your expressions; his eyelids heavy and mouth slightly agape. 

“shit, you’re so tight,” he groaned, hips starting to move faster as he gazed down at you. you swallowed, closing your eyes as he sent one particularly hard thrust, cock nearly ramming your cervix. “you good?” 

“mhm,” you responded, bringing your hands up to grab his hair. “just so big.” 

eren let out a breathy chuckle at that, eyes traveling down to your pelvis where his dick was visibly creating a bump with every thrust. he placed his hand on your stomach, pressing down as he bucked his hips violently forwards. he was so deep. 

you cried out at the feeling of his length sliding in and out of your cunt, your walls clenching around him as your hands clawed at his muscular back. 

he was filling you up so good, a moan leaving his lips as your enhanced arousal unexpectedly brought your second orgasm down, tears pricking your eyes. eren kept abusing your pussy, his thrusts growing senseless before he buried himself deep within you, releasing his load inside of your exhausted center. 

both of your breathing was labored, eren looking up at the ceiling. his face was flushed as he recovered, you laying limply beneath him trying to regain your composure yourself. 

“that felt so good,” you admitted, bringing your hand up from his back to caress his angular face. eren frowned at your words, large hand grabbing your wrist and removing it from his jawline. 

“m’not tired yet,” he said seriously, your eyes widening as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips. your fucked out face beneath him had his dick already hardening again. “m’not gonna be tired till i win.” 

he suddenly pulled up, hooking his hands under your knees and pushing your legs up by your head. the action strained your muscles, the feeling of eren’s cum dripping down your ass filling your head as he readied himself to fuck you senseless. 

he stared at your cunt; at the way his cum was oozing out of it, the abused pussy ready to take him in again. he used his fingers to catch the drip, forcing it back inside of you. the thought of filling you up all nice and pretty sent him over the edge, his hand shamelessly guiding his cock back inside of you.

eren was meaner this time; each thrust was deep and deliberate, hitting your cervix and making you cry out in pleasure. the burning sensation in your clit was overwhelming, your mouth hanging open as eren slowly fucked you stupid. 

“good, pretty girl” eren breathed out, ramming his hips into yours. “took her punishment like such a good girl.” 

you tried to nod your head, but you couldn’t move. the feeling of hot, sticky tears rolled down your face, eren’s cock deep within you almost too much to bear. he grabbed your chin, tongue swiping up your cheek as he savored the salty flavor on his tastebuds. this man and his licking. 

“tell me, did you learn your lesson?” eren grunted in your ear, hand still gripping your chin. you tried to form a sentence, fucked beyond words. “hm, use your words and i’ll let you cum.” 

one more deep thrust and his dick stopped its strokes, pausing within you. “yes... yes.” 

“yes what?” 

your tongue was heavy in your mouth, pussy all too aware of eren’s length within it. “i learned my lesson, you won.” 

he smirked, aggressively bucking his hips into your weak cunt, the action making you cry out as he rammed your cervix. the tears continued to roll down your cheeks as eren’s dick twitched, spurting the his seed into you. your third release followed his, your clit spasming from the overstimulation. 

eren heaved himself out of you, collapsing deftly onto the bed. the two of you sat in a heated silence, your face sticky from the tears. eren glanced to you, eyes trailing down your body. 

“i’ll get a rag,” he mumbled, shoving off the bed and walking into jean’s bathroom. you were beyond exhausted and knew that you’d be sore tomorrow. eren reemerged, quickly cleaning you up and handing you your shirt. 

your eyes lazily watched him as he walked over and locked the door; brain too tired to form a sentence. 

he must’ve noticed your concern. “we can sleep in here tonight; i don’t think you’re in any shape to move.” 

you carefully crawled into the sheets, not even bothering to put your shirt back on. eren followed suit, climbing in behind you. 

“night,” he whispered as he shut the bedside light off. your lids were growing heavy, a smile on your lips as you began to fall asleep. 

“night, casanova.” 

<3 <3 <3 

[twistedmusings]

What Are You Writing?

A/N: JOKES ON YOU GUYS, I'M AN OBEY ME WRITERS BLOG NOW. Nah not really, I mean maybe I might start thinking about making one in the future but I see all these awesome writers in that fandom and I get i n t i m i d a t e d. Nevertheless, I did want to pull a harmless prank on my readers so...enjoy a labor of love and possible regret as I now have to work on other requests ó uò

How would the brothers act with a Writer MC?

-He almost jumps when you walk into the room, practically shouting his name as you go to stand next to his desk and take a peek at what he is working on.

“Can I help you? “You certainly can.”

-You place a notebook next to his stack of paperwork and take a pen out, opening it up to a blank page before staring at him and building up your courage to ask the next question.

“What would you do if I suddenly asked you to be my fake boyfriend for a day?”

-You certainly were keeping up with your role in being the one human he isn’t able to pin down, huh?

-He asks what in the world you are talking about and you squat near him so that you can explain what you were doing. RAD proved to be a lot more stressful than you thought and you didn’t need to remind him that you were playing therapist to seven demons so you needed some sort of break.

-You tell him that in the human world you had a habit of writing ideas, snippets and even random bits of dialogue when you got stressed so you had asked Satan to lend you a notebook and a pen so you could unwind but you had gotten stuck in one scene.

-The character you were writing was loosely based on Lucifer so you decided why not ask him what he would do in order to get some inspiration!

“So here I am! I don’t need an entire synopsis I just want to know because maybe that will spark something inside of me.”

-Pen to paper, you look up at Lucifer ready to write anything down and even though you were looking him straight in the eye you were not paying attention to just how hard Lucifer was staring at you.

-You really had no idea how he felt about you, did you?

-Even with the pact making, the Hellfire Newt Syrup incident, the countless of times he had tried to flirt with you to the point that anyone without eyes could tell how he felt about you, your human brain did not seem to accept the fact that the eldest of the seven demon lords had fallen for you.

-Was this just another way of torturing him? Who would have thought that you would be such a cruel master?

-If only he wasn’t bound to you by the pact. Not that he regretted it but without the pact the ‘need’ to submit to you wasn’t as strong, all he would have to do is grab your chin, turn your face towards his so that he could tell you explicitly what was going through his head every time he saw you--

“...I would walk you to class, first and foremost. We would leave the House of Lamentation together and arrive together as well. Maybe some impromptu dates. Free tutoring as well.” “That’s tempting~ Would you let me hang around in your study?” “You are already welcome to do that.” “Aw, when did you get so soft?”

-Get the hint already!

-Your hand is scribbling down every idea he says, making quips here and there as you both talk extensively about your fake dates would play out. The idea of having you all to himself without his brothers around was already so tempting yet here you were talking about it like it was just a passing thought.

-That wouldn’t do.

-He grabs the top of your pen and smiles when you look up at him in confusion.

“At end of the day, I want to make you feel like the most important person in my world. I don’t want there to be a single doubt in your mind that you belong with me. Pact or no pact, you changed me in ways I couldn’t even fathom, MC, and I am doing everything in my power so that you will see just how important you are to me.”

-Your eyes are staring up at him, wide and with surprise as he dares to cup your cheek.

-He did it. He had gotten through to you! All he had to do was lean in and--!

“Can you repeat that one more time?! Oh my god Luci that was so good! I’m showing this to Satan when I’m done! Thank you so much!”

-Lucifer’s hand drops to his lap as he watches you pick yourself up and run out of his study, his fist clenching in his hand as he thought of just how blind you could be for not seeing what he had tried to convey with those cliched words! Of all the humans--!

-He stops as he hears your giggles outside of the hallway, unclenching his fist and sighing as he tries to look at the positives.

-There had been a flush on your cheeks, of that he was sure. Which meant that in some way...his words had made an impact. He hoped it would take just a few more cheesy lines for you to fall for him.

”Mammon!!!!”

-From the top of his head to the tip of his toes, Mammon could feel himself shiver as you called out his name. Ever since he made that pact the way you would call out his name would send a pleasant shiver down his spine as he turned to greet you.

-Levi told him that you had been looking for him and he had practiced his greeting at least five times to make him look as cool as possible.

“Yo MC! I heard you were looking for the Great Mammon!”

-See? Wasn’t he cool?

-The brothers watched as you didn’t even greet Mammon, you just grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the living room telling everybody that you needed to talk to him privately.

-Privately? As in you two alone? Together?

-Well of course you wanted to talk to him alone! His awesome ways had probably finally gotten through to you and you were about to confess to him. Suck on THAT Lucifer!

-You push him into your room before closing the door and turning to look at him.

“I have something I need to ask you. Do you think you can help?”

-The words escape him before he even thinks them.

“Anything.”

“I want to go out with you. Tonight. Almost like a pretend date.”

-Fireworks go off inside his head as he feels tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. This was real, you were asking him out! You had picked him out of all his brothers despite how many messes he got you in and how much trouble tended to follow him--

-Wait, pretend?

-You proceed to show off your little book of writings, explaining to him that you had gotten stuck in trying to describe a hidden date between the protagonist and the love interest.

“They are trying to hide the fact they are dating from everybody so that they won’t get in trouble. I figured that a human and a demon going on a date is already somewhat of stigma as it is so I just want to see how it feels so I can describe it better.”

-He can’t really describe the sadness that he feels when you tell him it would all be pretend. Too much for dropping Grimm on wishing wells. He was going to go back and fish them all out tomorrow. What a letdown!

-Here he was, the GREAT Mammon letting a human toy with his heart like this!

“You won’t get in too much trouble if we do this...right?”

-The worry in your voice is what makes him look into your eyes. Your hand was on his as you looked for any signs of discomfort from the Avatar of Greed. Your eyes were entirely on him.

-Mammon’s subconscious: More of that please.

-You looked so worried for his well-being. Mammon had no idea who had told you that humans and demons were not allowed to date but they had clearly lied to you. There was no stigma whatsoever. And in retrospect he should reveal that to you now so that there would be no misinformation on how much he wanted to take you on a not pretend date.

-But all your attention was on him. Your body was facing his way, your hands on his as you licked your lips nervously. More, more, more, more he needed for you to look at him more--!

“Tch. Making such a complicated request. You could really get me in trouble for this, MC!” “You’re right, I shouldn’t push it--” “But I guess if you are asking me, I could spare a couple hours...for you.”

-You both share a smile as you hug him close, his arms wrapping around you tight as he tries to keep his smile from breaking out into full blown giggles.

-This worked out for him as well! He was going to give you the best date of your human life so you would have no choice but to fall for him! You better get ready!

-You wrote some fiction, he wrote TSL fanfiction, Levi was probably already aware of your talent once he asked to beta one of his other works and you came back not just with some beta but with some actual USEFUL feedback unlike Satan going on about his spelling mistakes. -So you are already in his room when you ask for his help, grinning as you hold up the small ideas that you had written for your proper introduction into the TSL fandom.

“I want to write an AU about Henry and the Lord of Shadows in an arranged marriage!”

-The premise was simple. You wanted to write about the Lord of Shadows and his Henry having to marry each other in order to bring peace to both of their kingdoms. The marriage proposition was sudden and each of the seven brothers was against it but you wanted to show just how much Henry was willing to sacrifice to help the people who he cared about the most.

-And you loved drama like this.

-You hold up your book as you keep ranting to Levi, the other caught up in your plot as he closed his eyes in order to better imagine it.

“And I want a moment where the Lord of Shadows tells Henry that he doesn’t have to do this. That he wants him to be happy and doesn’t want him to be stuck with a reclusive Lord for all his life.”

-Of course, of course. The Lord of Shadows had always hoped for Henry’s happiness and he had also sacrificed a great many of his previous ways in order to gain his best friend’s praise! Levi was proud, you understood these characters so well! So he pipes in with his own thoughts.

“I bet Henry turns to him and asks why he is so against the idea! It would push the Lord of Shadows to confess that he has secretly longed for Henry’s affection and attention all this time!”

-You both grin before you stand up, putting on a fake sad face as you take Levi’s hand in yours before pressing them to your chest.

“Am I not worthy to be your spouse? Do you hate the idea of marrying me that much?”

-Levi is caught up in the moment that he doesn’t even notice how close you two are, instead moving even closer as he cupped your cheek.

“You? Not worthy? It is I who is not worthy of you. After all you have done...can I be selfish enough to call you mine?”

-Oh this was practically writing itself! You really hoped that Levi remembered some of these lines. You pull away from his touch dramatically before sighing as you decide that this scene would be a good catalyst moment for a confession.

“Have you ever thought of me that way? More than what we have now? I’m embarrassed to admit it but...I have on many occasions longed for something more.”

-Levi’s expression softens in a way you haven’t seen before, keeping a hold on your hands as he follows up with you seamlessly.

“If I told you about my fantasies...about the deep need I feel to keep you away from prying eyes and hoping that yours would remain on me despite the others who so badly wish for your hand. Would you still see me in such high regard?”

-Shit he was good. The prying eyes bit was perfect! Now to end it with a bang! You feel Levi pull you by your waist so you are pressed against his chest, eyes looking down at you as if begging for your reply. So you do what you have read in many other books and take his face in your hands.

“Keep me. Forever.”

-You both stay that way for a few seconds before you pull away and let out a giddy squeal, rushing over to your book and writing down the lines that you could remember, gushing about how Levi had just given you the best ending ever.

-What you didn’t see was the poor demon standing there, arms still pretending to hold someone as the spell broke for him slowly. He needed to process just what the hell just happened.

-He had held your hands, touched you, had you close enough that he could feel you against him and you hadn’t even moved away! Levi could still see how warm your hands were on his cheeks and the words that you had said to him were now slowly coming back to him as he remembered his embarrassing replies!

-You jump and turn when you hear a clatter behind you, turning around to see that Levi had fainted and was now slumped against one of his many manga bookshelves, face all red and a dopey smile on his lips as he repeated your words over and over.

-If you had a writing buddy in Levi, then you got a plot bunny buddy with Satan.

-With the amount of books that he has read and the number of genres he is into, you are surprised that he finds your ideas mildly interesting. They were all just cliches and purely for your enjoyment so when he asked you if he could read some of what you had written you were too shocked to notice that he had already taken the book from your backpack.

“A love story...interesting.”

-You two were in the library, looking for a certain book about black magic casting as well as some examples of ritual circles that you needed to complete for your next assignment. Or rather you were looking for the books, he was just following close behind you as he read your latest entry.

“How are you stuck in this scene?” “Huh?” “How the main character meets the second love interest. It’s pretty obvious.”

-Well excuse you for having writer’s block. You know that he was trying to be helpful but his help always came with some sort of sarcastic twinge that, while endearing during some situations, was incredibly annoying when he was criticizing your writings. You turn back to look at him as you stop at the spot the book was supposed to be in.

“I haven’t necessarily fallen in love with anyone lately, you know! It’s too specific a feeling!”

-Satan’s eyes take in the way you tip-toe to try and reach the book, cursing under your breath as you struggled to get it from the highest shelf. Devildom libraries were notoriously famous for having ridiculously large bookshelves and only a ghost attendant would be able to help you. He looks down at your book and then back at the small scene before smiling as he snaps the book shut.

-Surely a bit of inspiration is all you needed, correct?

-You feel a hand on your lower back, another brushing the hand reaching out for the book and grabbing it for you. Satan smiles as he holds out the book to you.

“Black magic casting...and you needed something about ritual circles, right? It seems the perfect book is right next to you.”

-He ‘accidentally’ brushes your cheek when reaching out for the book behind you, humming for a moment before he puts it back and looks down at you without moving his arm out of the way. Satan had just effectively trapped you in a rather flawlessly executed Kabedon.

“...Satan...the book…” “It wasn’t the right one. Or maybe I just wanted an excuse to get you in this position.”

-Your eyes were shining, the book was pressed right against your chest, he could even see the small blush adorning your face as the situation became quite clear to you. Now he wouldn’t tell you that he had practiced this sort of scenario by himself in his room just in case you ever asked him for help finding a book, better for you to believe that this had all been just a ‘happy’ accident.

“You are looking at me so seriously, MC.” “I know what you are doing.”

-He dares to move closer, his shadow casting over you as if to hide you from prying eyes. If you made the first move, there would be no one stopping him.

“Yeah?” “This would be perfect! A library setting! Gives me a chance to make the character like a cool librarian type!”

-Satan stays silent as you grab the books you need and snatch your notebook from his hand, stating that you were going to check these out immediately and then head home. He turns back to look at the place you were just standing at, the place where you had been completely at his mercy.

-Dammit, he should have blocked the other side too.

-Asmo was ecstatic when you asked him for his book collection.

-It annoyed him to no end when people thought that the only way he consumed his erotica was through personal experience and porn. In his opinion, after personal experience, the best way to enjoy his usual favourite activity was reading erotica. The descriptions, to get into the thoughts of the inner characters and seeing how they essentially lose their minds to the pleasure. It was thrilling.

-So when you come knocking at his door one night and ask for one of the books you usually catch him reading, he is both excited and curious.

“Which one do you want darling? I have the first volume of ‘Eternal Dom Love’, ‘Baring My Soul to a Demon’, ‘Captive Human’--” “You have anything like...with dirty talk?

-Oh now he is really excited and curious.

-He looks around his small library and pulls out the book he thinks is best for what you desired, holding it out for you to take but pulling it back quickly with a grin. Asmo wasn’t going to just let you walk away after telling him something so interesting~

“I’m a bit possessive about my books, MC~ What are you going to use it for? Recreational reasons?”

-You blush and cover your face with your hands, not really embarrassed for asking but instead embarrassed that you were about to tell him what you were going to do with it. But you steel yourself, you had heard Asmo flirt in the club before and from how quickly his dates had insisted on taking it to a more ‘private’ area, you knew he had the thing that you desperately needed.

“I…” “Yes?” “I’m-trying-to-write-the-prelude-to-a-sex-scene-in-one-of-my-stories-but-I-have-no-idea where-to-start-so-I-need-material!”

-Asmo blinks before grinning as he got in your face, pushing the book into your hands as he asked you what the story was about, who were the characters, had you based them off of anybody and just what kind of sex scene where you planning?

-He had no idea you had that kind of talent, where had you been hiding that all this time?

-You slowly explain the plot to him, getting a bit more into it as you see how much attention Asmo is paying to your every word. Out of all of the brothers you didn’t expect him to be so interested in one of your stories! The scene you have in mind is somewhat clear to you so you try to explain to him just what you think is missing.

“It is a demon and a human. They are clearly not supposed to be doing this. Yet that is--” “What makes it all the more appealing.”

-Asmo had played this out perfectly given the little time he had to work with. The more you talked, the closer he got to you. The closer he got, the more you moved away subconsciously. Your body instinctively wanted to make room for him and give him his space but you let out a small ‘meep’ when the back of your knees hit the side of his hanging chair and you find yourself sitting down as he kneels in front of you.

“They both know that if they take such a intimate step with one another they might not be able to go back to how they used to be before. Everything will change.”

-You nod as Asmo touches your leg, hand moving towards your thigh as he rests his chin on your knees.

“But what is so wrong with change? You said the demon is a charmer so they would want to charm them throughout the whole thing. It would start out slow, teasing even, probably testing out the waters as they see what their human likes and doesn’t like."

-He scoots closer and traces your fingers, the digits wrapped tightly around his book as he continues..

“They would eventually lose control, wouldn’t they? The passion would be too much for them to handle and they both would lose themselves to their lust. Although it wouldn’t be just lust…”

-Asmo looks up to meet your eyes, straightening out as he leans in closer to the point that you are shutting your eyes and leaning in as well--it’s not that you haven’t had experience with kisses but surely the demon of lust’s kiss would spark something inside your head--!

-You open your eyes when you feel the book leaving your hands.

“I changed my mind. I think this would be a much better title for what you are looking for, Sweetie.”

-He holds out your hand for you to stand up and you almost want to ask Solomon to cast some sort of spell that would make you forget everything that happened in these moments. You closed your eyes like some highschooler waiting for their first kiss--you were better than that!

-You thank him and make your way out of his room, running back to yours as fast as you can without noticing Asmo’s mischievous smile as he waved goodbye. It was always good to play the long game~

-You two had stopped at Madame’s Scream because Beel had complained about being hungry yet again. Besides you both had done rather well on an examination so--why not celebrate?

-You only had a small fizzy drink while Beel had ordered himself something called ‘The Herculean Parfait’, something about it holding 25 scoops of ice cream plus whip cream, nuts and some waffle cones at the bottom. Now the waiter had brought out two spoons but it was clear that Beel would only be needing one.

-This was rather normal for you two, Beel eating his fill while you stared at the blank page of your small notebook. You were trying to write a cute scene with a couple sharing a dessert at a coffee shop where they first met but you were struggling to think of a fluffy scenario.

-Was feeding your partner considered cheesy nowadays? You tap your page twice before looking at Beel. The second spoon remained untouched, some ice cream specks stuck to the shiny, concave surface as the Demon of Gluttony continued his ice cream carnage. You grab the spoon and take some from the side that had yet to be eaten.

“Hey Beel”

-The demon stops eating and looks at you as you hold out the spoon to him, his hunger suddenly stopping as he looks at the sugary contents stacked high on the spoon you were holding out for him.

“Say aah!”

-Beel blinks but doesn’t think twice the moment you give him the command, opening his mouth and eating the sugary confection off the spoon, his smile growing as you let out a small giggle.

“Did it taste good?" “Mmm~!" “I’m glad.”

-He abandoned his own spoon as you scooped up some more, opening his mouth as you kept on feeding him. Beel had no idea what had brought this on or why you were suddenly feeding him. It wasn’t like he was complaining, however. Yes your pace was slow and such a giant parfait would surely melt with how slow you were going but he didn’t care, instead opening his mouth wide as you kept on feeding him.

“So Beel…” “Mmm?" “Does it feel any different when I feed you?”

-Beel frowns when the spoon stops but decides to answer your question so that he could go back to eating. Why would it feel any different? Well, it somewhat did? He didn’t know how to describe it but he does feel a lot fuller than before. He is actually tasting the food as you take your time scooping up some more. He had picked out so many different flavors and he could taste almost every single one.

“I wouldn’t say different...but food certainly tastes better when you give it to me.”

-You immediately stop and put the spoon down, smiling as you start to writing down what Beel had just said. You could essentially build an entire scene around that! What a good idea coming here--

“MC?”

-Your pen stops as you look at Beel, your pen falling from your hands as you see the puppy dog look he was giving you. He looks at your hand and then at the spoon.

“Why did you stop?”

-Beel smiles happily as you go right back to what you were doing, the notebook forgotten as you continue to spoil your demon. You had a feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time you were doing this.

-Belphie yawned as he cuddled you closer, your hands moving so they would be wrapped around his neck but still holding onto your phone. He closes his eyes and tries to drift off but frowns when he hears your fingers tapping on your screen. He could probably sleep through the sound but he didn’t want to.

“Turn around.” “Huh?” “Just turn around.”

-You do as he says, now pressed against his chest as you continue to type. Belphegor was close to falling asleep, pressing his nose against your shoulder as he breathes you in---

Tap tap tap tap

“Fuck this.”

-He grabs your phone and drops it off the bed, your protests being muffled as he wraps his arms around your neck to pull you close. You tap his arms twice before wiggling out of his hold, sitting up on the bed and looking at him while he glared back at you.

-What did you think you were doing typing away on your phone? Belphegor never really asked you for much but when it was cuddle time it was cuddle time. You weren’t supposed to do anything *but* cuddle during cuddle time so you clearly needed to stop being distracted.

“What do you think you are doing?” “Taking care of your distraction.”

-You both stare at each other as he sits up as well, clearly letting you know that if you were to go and dig for your phone he wasn’t going to let you. At this point, it really was useless to argue with Belphegor. As the youngest, he was used to getting what he wanted with little setback. So you lay back down, ignoring the triumphant smile Belphegor gave you as he went right back to cuddling you.

“I was writing something.” “It can wait till later…”

-Belphegor yawns and wraps his leg around you, ignoring the little ‘hmphs’ you were giving him as well as the words you were muttering to yourself. But what good would it be if you weren’t cuddling up to him as well so he decided to give in as well.

“What were you writing about?”

-Oh this was new. You turn to face him, talking about the scene you were working on. This couple had just had an exhausting day and they were eager to lay in bed together but their work or other responsibilities were keeping them from cuddling at night. You explained how you wanted to describe the exhaustion one was feeling from not having their partner with them.

-The demon of Sloth hummed when you mentioned how tired the character was and speaking up about how he knew how they felt. You chuckle and mention that it seemed that everything made Belphegor exhausted nowadays. He shakes his head, opening his eyes so he could look at you.

“No. I mean that everything gets heavier when you’re not with me.”

-You try to cut it in and ask him what he is talking about but he beats you to it.

“I get more energy when you are around. I actually want to do things aside from sleeping. “Are you saying you like hanging out with me more than sleeping?” “Don’t push it, MC.”

-Both of you laugh, your body cuddling closer to the demon as you yawn. A part of you was still annoyed that Belphegor had shoved your phone to the floor because now would have been a prime time to write that he had just said but as your eyes grew heavier you just hoped that you would remember it by the time you woke up.

-Belphegor opens his eyes once he feels your breathing evening out, smiling as he leans in close and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“You weren’t far off...I do like you more than sleeping...sometimes…”

-He yawns and wraps an arm around your waist. What a good idea it was to lock the door so none of his brothers would bother you two. Your nights were his, after all.

[isabellafoster13]

This was requested on AO3 by SakuraFairy.

Gildarts x Lucy isn't something that I ship. As I've stated in the Rules chapter/post, I don't ship Lucy with people that are old enough to be her parent or grandparent. However, I've recently read some Gildarts x Lucy fics to get some inspiration for this oneshot. I will admit, I've warmed up to the ship a little bit, there are a few really good fics about these two. Although, I still don't ship it, instead, I more like the idea of Gildarts being a father figure to Lucy. 

Anyways, I hope this isn't too bad. 

Enjoy!

Older Men (Gildarts x Lucy)

Lucy has always liked older men. 

She guessed it was because of how she was raised and all the older men that her father entertained and thought about setting his daughter up with. 

She wasn't sure. She just knew that she was interested in men that were mature. Very mature. Her preferred age range being twenty-five to fifty. 

She had never intended on letting her friends find out, until one day when Cana had dragged her to an empty corner of the guild. The blonde was sat down across from her brunette friend. Cana took a swig of her barrel and then asked, just a little tipsy, "hey, what kind of men are you into, Lu?" 

Lucy blushed at that. How was she supposed to answer? Cana's father was forty-five. Lucy looked at her brawling guildmates, racking her brain for a way to get out of this. Her flustered gaze was brought back to Cana when the card mage slammed her barrel loudly onto the wooden table. She asked again, "what type of men are you into? It's a simple question." She then added upon noticing Lucy's discomfort, "Hey, come on. You can tell me. I don't shame people for their preferences, you know that." 

Lucy sighed, knowing that Cana would let her leave until she got an answer. The blonde mage stared down at the table, her face burning from embarrassment. "W-Well, I have always had a thing for older men." 

Cana then asked a follow-up question, "age range?"

Lucy swallowed, her brown eyes remaining on the surface of the table. "Um...thirty to fifty, I guess."

Cana nodded at that before she began to chug a barrel of alcohol. Lucy sat there, staring at Cana wondering if she was free to leave. She had to know though, why did Cana want to know this piece of personal information? The curiosity got the better of her, and the celestial wizard cleared her throat to get her friend's attention. Cana lowered the barrel to look at her blonde friend, raising a dark brown eyebrow as she did so. Lucy asked, "why...why did you want to know...that stuff?" Cana chuckled as she sat down her now empty barrel.

She smirked. 

Lucy didn't like that smirk. 

Cana then asked, "do you think my father is attractive?"

Lucy's dark red blush came back. She had to admit, she did think that Gildarts was very handsome. She liked how muscular he was, as it was a stark difference from the older men that she was constantly surrounded by when she was still an heiress. She wasn't sure if she actually had feelings for her friend's father or if it was just a simple attraction that would pass with time. 

Nevertheless, Lucy couldn't deny the blush that would appear on her face whenever Gildarts would give her a pat on the back after she was successful on a job with Cana, or would even so much as smile at her. She couldn't deny that her heartbeat would pick up speed when he stood near her or talked to her. She couldn't deny that she would get a fluttering feeling in her stomach when he would give her a passing compliment. 

Oh God, Lucy realized with horror, I have feelings for Gildarts! I've fallen for Cana's father!

Lucy coughed and turned her head away, trying to hide her blush. She struggled to find the right words to give as an answer. "Um...w-well...I um...I guess he's uh...attractive." She said the last word softly, hoping that Cana wouldn't have been able to hear her. 

No such luck for Lucy.

Cana simply gave a knowing smirk, stood up, patted Lucy on the back the way that Gildarts does, and walked away back to the bar. 

Lucy watched as her friend walked away. Cana didn't seem to be upset. Why did she want to know though? Lucy didn't get an actual answer to that question. She decided that she didn't want an answer right now, she just wanted to get back to her apartment and bury herself in her bedcovers. 

The blonde rushed out of the guildhall and ran her way back to her apartment, completely missing the look of longing and hope that was cast her way by a certain S-Class Crush mage. 

Gildarts sat at the bar, sipping a beer. Yesterday, Cana had suggested that he take Lucy on a job, saying that he could simply pass it off as a way to give her advice on becoming an S-Class mage and even teach her some fighting moves besides just punches and kicks. He knew that Cana had suggested that so he could have some alone time with Lucy and maybe ask her on a date. 

Gildarts has had romantic feelings for the blonde for some time now. He had expected to fall for one of Cana's friends, but here he was. 

He had no idea how his daughter found out, she just one day asked him if he had feelings for Lucy and didn't allow him to leave without telling her the truth. He couldn't bring himself to lie to his daughter, so he had to tell Cana the truth. 

He had expected her to flip out. Honestly, who wouldn't? But, instead, Cana set about trying to set him up with Lucy. All of her attempts, however, were in vain, as Gildarts made it clear to her that he wasn't going to make a move on the blonde if she wasn't into older men. 

And he was willing to bet a million jewel that she wasn't.

He never guessed that he was wrong about that. 

He looked to his right, seeing his daughter sitting down next to him. She gave him a smirk. He knew what that smirk meant. Cana was up to something. 

Gildarts turned to Cana and raised an eyebrow, asking, "what are you scheming?" Cana stayed silent, deciding to instead wave Mira down for a whole barrel of her beloved alcoholic drink. As she waited for the alcohol, the brunette woman glanced at her father. She then said something that surprised the S-Class mage next to her. 

"Lucy just told me that she's into older men. She also admitted that you're attractive."

Gildarts' eyebrows shot up to his hairline in surprise. He had to stop himself from looking back at the mentioned blonde. Instead, he questioned his daughter in a low voice after taking a sip of his drink, "why did you ask her what type of men she was into and what she thought of me? And why are you telling me?" 

Cana stifled a chuckle. "Because I want you to be happy. Even if you annoy me, you're still my dad. If being with Lucy makes you happy, then I'm fine with it." Mira then brought Cana several mugs of alcohol. The brunette down one of the mugs before she added to what she had just said, "I also want Lucy to be happy. If my conversation with her is anything to go by, I think she really likes you, and I mean really likes you." 

Gildarts could feel his fae warm at that statement. He felt silly, blushing like this over one of his daughter's friends. He sighed and downed the rest of his beer. He then thought about what Cana had just told him. Lucy might actually like him? Could he have a chance? Should he make a move? Or should he just let this whole thing go and avoid all the talk that would undoubtedly be caused? He looked over at Lucy and watched as she ran out of the guild, not even trying to hide the longing and hope that resided in his eyes. 

Lucy walked to the guild, trying to not think about what had happened between her and Cana the day before. She had to pay for her rent that was soon due and hoped to find a job request without running into Cana or Gildarts. 

She approached the guildhall doors and stopped in her tracks. She heard what sounded like a party. She pushed open the doors, encountering what was obviously a classic Fairy Tail party, confirming Lucy's suspicions. 

Throughout the guildhall, the wizards of Fairy Tail were drinking, laughing, chatting, teasing each other, and having a grand time celebrating whatever event that they deemed worthy of a celebration. 

The blonde made her way over to the bar. She saw Mira spot her and immediately set about making her a strawberry milkshake. Lucy sat down and waited. Finding a job request can wait until after she drinks her milkshake and finds out what her guildmates were celebrating. 

As she started sipping on her milkshake, Lucy saw someone in the corner of her eye sit next to her. She sat her cold beverage down and turned to see one of two people she didn't want to come face-to-face with today: Cana. 

Cana gave Lucy a broad smile. "Hey, Luce, what's up?" 

Lucy answered cautiously, not sure why Cana's smile was so big and so suspicious seeming, "nothing really. I was about to go to the request board. What's with the party?" 

Cana laughed, answering, "Alzack and Bisca just announced that they're having another baby. Soon after, Azuka shouted that she wants a sister to play dress-up with." 

Both of the female mages laughed at that. Cana then went back to smiling, though now it looked more like a smirk, making Lucy even more suspicious of her friend. Lucy questioned, "what are you up to, Cana?" 

Cana chuckled. "Nothing. I swear." 

The brunette then stood up. Before she walked away to likely challenge someone to a drinking contest, she whispered into Lucy's ear, "my dad has a massive crush on you. Just so you know." The brunette then gave her a wink and walked away, leaving Lucy with a very evident blush on her cheeks. 

She looked over at Gildarts. He seemed to be having a lighthearted argument with Macao. Lucy began to think about what Cana had just told her. Gildarts felt the same way about her? Was Cana okay with that? She seemed to be. Should she make a move? Or wait for him to do it? Does he even know about her feelings for him? 

Lucy thought it over, staring down at her sweet drink. She eventually decided that it couldn't hurt to try, right? If it turns out he didn't feel that way about him, she can simply pass it off as Cana playing a prank on her. 

The blonde waited for Macao to walk away, leaving Gildarts sitting alone, before she steeled her nerves and walked over to him, her milkshake in hand. She sat next to him and waited for the older man to notice her presence. 

Gildarts' surprised voice sounded very quickly, "Lucy?! What are you doing here?" 

Lucy avoided his gaze, opting to stare down at her drink. She took a deep breath before speaking, "Gildarts, Cana just told me that you have," she paused, not knowing how exactly to phrase her statement. She then continued after quickly coming up with something, "romantic feelings for me." 

There was silence. 

A rather long period of silence. 

Lucy began to internally panic but focused on remaining visibly calm. 

Then Gildarts finally spoke, rather meekly, "yeah...it's true." 

Lucy couldn't believe what she had just heard. 

Gildarts actually liked her in the same that she liked him. 

She felt giddy. Her heartbeat quickened and her stomach did flips. She took another deep breath, gaining just a bit more confidence. She finally spoke, "how about we go to the park sometime?" 

Gildarts chuckled. "You mean, like a date?"

Lucy nodded. 

The S-Class mage next to her then spoke again, "I'm the man, shouldn't I be the one asking you out on a date?"

Lucy softly chuckled. "Go ahead then."

Gildarts placed a finger under her chin, turning her head to look at him. Their eyes quickly met. Gildarts smirked at the younger woman's crimson blush. He then asked in a low tone, "Lucy, would you like to go on a date with me?"

Lucy swallowed thickly, suddenly at a loss for words despite her earlier boldness. She managed to only squeak out a "yes."

Gildarts chuckled and released her chin. He then turned back to the bar. Lucy mumbled a "we'll talk about the date later" before she hurried off to the request board, completely missing the smirk that was on the pretty face of Fairy Tail's heaviest drinker, who had just watched the entire interaction. 

[lostsoulaltair]

OnS Theories (21S). Third Theory - All paths lead to Rome (Special Theory)

Hello everyone, I hope you’ve been doing well, this week I’ve felt inspired a lot by talking a lot with friends along discussing the latest chapter and I must say, the inspiration of the theory’s title is thanks to a game I’ve been enjoying as of late... yes, Fate/Grand Order. In fact, the theory title itself is something a character states within the game dialogue but nevertheless, you might wonder why I chose it, therefore, before I start, I must credit a dear anon since we were talking about Greece and then the idea came as a burst but well, in a way, it was something that at first was dismissed yesterday but bothered me, therefore, let’s begin!

P.S: Theories are held within a neutral view and ships are excluded!

It is well known that Rome holds a deep meaning to Christianity since it was the set point on which the Church was technically born, but how does this relate with Owari since Shikama has wandered around Greece for a quite good time?

The answer lies to this:

Image taken from Seraph of the End: Vampire Reign - Chapter 103

You might wonder, how exactly a wall like could even do within Mika’s deepest part of his heart, ironically, as I was speaking with an anon, we held a conversation about how Mika could have ties to Greece and here comes the unexpected. Such huge place actually doesn’t belong to Greece but Rome:

Image taken from BBC media

The big wall that Mika was able to see asides the houses in there are in fact parts of what it was once the Roman Colosseum.

While it’s true Shikama Doji took part of his experiments in Greece, it is exactly unknown what parts he started reaching afterwards with time, and specifically after his constant movement with the Progenitors within the time he spent with them.

And, of course, considering the lifespawn Krul, Ashera, Rigr and Urd had at such time, it could be said that one of the Progenitor’s destination was Rome.

Back in chapter 79, after he saw results within Ashera after he survived Yu’s attack and slowly started to become a vampire, he stated the next thing:

Image taken from Seraph of the End: Vampire Reign - Chapter 79

He stated it has taken over 600 years to find the first result of his long experiments to finally give results, but now, returning to the main point of the theory, why does the title implies that all paths lead to Rome?

It is well known in religion that Rome was the pinacle of Christianity, along with its founder being St. Peter since his name literally meant Rock, giving at the very end of his life the settlings to build the very first Church along the birth of Christianity.

But before that, before religion even took place within Rome, Rome was a mere thought of existance, Rome itself at those years didn’t exist. But rather, the main pinacle of wisdom was Greece, therefore, let’s take an insight to the main event, but what event do I mean?

Correct. The Dark Ages of Greece

According to history, the reason why it was the Dark Ages was due to the fall of a civilization which was  the Mycenaean civilization; said civilization literally collapsed and faced its down due to constant conflicts and the inbalance of economy and social stability which in fact would answer why Krul and Ashera, as nobles, were the main objective of citizens along the rage they carried out

Image taken from Seraph of the End: Vampire Reign - Chapter 69

It is said that during the collapse of said civilization, inestability took place, which of course would lead to the eventual discomfort of society, which would explain the destruction and the common practice of buying and selling slaves, but now, the only difficult point to state is where exactly Ashera was taken after such events occurred.

But it could be said, that Ashera was a member of said collapsed civilization and needless to say, Greece started to find other alternatives to recover its stability without giving a care of the collapsed system and society that faced its doom.

Thus giving an insight that Ashera and Krul belonged to the years near 1200 B.C and considering that Rigr and Urd were vampires at such time:

Image taken from Seraph of the End: Vampire Reign - Chapter 79

It could be said that Urd and Rigr could have a possible outcome just like Ashera and Krul.

And of course, it is to say that with time, Shikama kept experimenting on and testing his results which would take 2 000 years until he decided to leave the Progenitor Council to reach his final destination which was the Land of the Rising Sun.

For more information about the Dark Ages of Greece, here’s the source:

https://www.worldhistory.org/Greek_Dark_Age/

But now, what does exactly take before such time?

If we consider that Shikama was wandering around the year 1 800 B.C with the practice of his experiments, it could be said that his final time with the Vampire Council was around the year 200 A.C

But before that, before he aimed to walk his path with his First Apostle Ashera Tepes, one big question comes and that is, when exactly did he start using such word?

If many might know, in religion, everything broke loose after Christ’s dead and the future of the 12 apostles that followed him, and of course, as I stated before, the very first pinacle of everything, the rock that would be the settling of Christianity would be St. Peter, who of coursse died at the year 64 A.C. thus leading to a very interesting fact and that is the possibility that Shikama might have faced or might have seen the development of such events within the final times he spent with the Progenitors, furthermore, it’s unknown to which places he traveled afterwards.

But now, how could this relate with Mikaela if the experiments were taking place in Greece?

There’s a possible answer to this, and that is the fact that the Black Suns Mika managed to recall briefly along the fact that he and Yu were born or came from the same source or origin, could have been practiced within Rome after religion finally settled it, but how can I state this?

First of all, knowing that Shikama is the closest representation of the devil, it could be said he slowly awaited for the moment on which God would make his movement so he could prepare everything he planned for his stage of revenge.

But, within this, there’s a rather curious question, which is, how is the Rome Colosseum a relation to one of the countries where christian religion takes place?

In fact, it is to say that, according to religion, the one who ordered its construction was no other than the one very sole tyrant or rather the figure that was seen as the beast at such time, and of course, that was no other than Emperor Nero, the very figure that was seen as the worst being that humanity could have presenced in religious texts, specially since his crawling to power was one distorted and catastrophic with constant death and a path of blood.

Which would in fact partake that there would have been a small possibility that Shikama might have met such figure and have taken place the very first time he tried to clone Mikaela on such place as a protest against God and Heaven.

Therefore, it could be concluded that Mikaela or at least the very first attempt of cloning was taken place on the Roman Colosseum which would give an insight as to why he was shocked to see the fake souls which I’ll speak later on.

What do you think dear readers?

Let me know!

I must thank @mikaisyuudere​ @roxxy-ll​ along the dear anon that took part on the development of this theory, along my friends over discord that were an essential part for the development as well!

gif belongs to linaelric

[ilovefandoms102]

Part 4-Shape of My Heart

Pairing: Rudy Pankow x Plus Size Reader

Summary: Falling in love with someone you can never have is the worst feeling in the world...

Taglist:

@jeyramarie​ @drewswannabegirl​ @teamnick​ @jiaraendgame​ @agirlwholovescoffee​ @outerbongs​ @jaxxandcomet​ @velyssaraptor​ @baby-pogue​ @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @must-be-a-weasley-92​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @ma10427​ @ifilwtmfc​ @lasnaro​ @justcallmesams​ @judayyyw​ @lonely-kermit​ @gviosca​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @fernweh-fangirl​ @runway-to-my-aid @eb15​ @hurricane-abigail​ @tangledinsparkles​ @fandom-phaser​ @sunwardsss​ @http-cherries​ @bibliophilewednesday​ @evaporatedrosepetals​ @thetomatosaucee​ @tomatosauceagent​​

Part 3 Part 5

Note: Thank you guys so much for all the positive feedback on everything! I feel so inspired to write and I have SO many ideas I can’t wait to put out!! Hope you guys enjoy and as always let me know what you think!

==============================

LA clubs were no joke....

The lights were so bright, it almost looked like it was still daytime. People were wrapped around the building waiting to get in. Our group took a special entrance in, Maddie B and C dancing while walking in. They drug me with them, and I couldn’t help but dance along with them. As we were waiting to get our ID’s checked, Rudy wrapped his arms around me. He rocked me back and forth to the beat, both of us singing loudly. 

It might have been my imagination, but I swear I heard Elaine scoff in disgust. I paid no mind to it, Rudy and I were just good friends. She could have him, it’s not like he’d ever want someone that looked like me anyways. 

A round of shots was ordered for all of us, cheering before slugging it back. I felt the effects immediately, the warm feeling shooting through my entire body. While the boys argued over who was going to be put on the tab, I walked further down the bar to order another shot. After I ordered myself a drink, handing the bar tender the cash before walking back to my friends. Rudy whipped his head in my direction, a quizzical look on his handsome face.

“Where did you go?” he asked, eyeing the drink in my hand.

“You all were taking too long,” I shrugged, sipping my drink.

“You’re so impatient.” he rolled his eyes. 

“Y/n come on! Let’s bust a move!” Maddie C shouted while doing an over exaggerated version of the Charleston. 

I downed the rest of my drink, handing my glass to Rudy as I followed the girls out to the dance floor. We had danced to a few songs before the guys eventually joining us, Rudy and Drew making a show of their sweet moves(note the sarcasm). A more provocative song started playing, the girls and I getting more into it. I felt arms around my hips, whipping my head around to see an attractive dude smiling at me. I decided to go with it, the girls nodding at me.

 I normally wouldn’t dance with guys since it made me a tad uncomfortable, but with the drinks I had it blurred those emotions. I felt eyes burning into me as I moved to the music. I looked around to find Rudy with a very unhappy look on his face. I played it off as his protectiveness over a random dude grabbing on to me, not thinking it could be what I wanted it to be. Elaine tried dragging his attention to her, but he paid it no mind as he stared daggers at where the mans hands sat on my waist. 

Maddie B and C were both trying to encourage me to dance on this man, obviously trying to rile up Rudy. I shook my head at them, Maddie C nodding intently. Drew busted into our circle, handing everyone another shot, I downed it the second he handed it to me. My brain became hazier as I felt my anxiety of dancing with a complete stranger fade away. I started to get more into the song, dancing without a care in the world. Cheers erupted as the song ended, giggles coming from the girls and I. 

The next song came on, the guy pulling me further into him. I felt the guys hand’s leave me suddenly, I turned to see Rudy giving him a death stare. I looked confusedly at Rudy who grabbed a hold of me, hearing Maddie B and C cackle in the background. The guy scurried off, Rudy pulling my back to his front. I turned my head to raise a brow at him, he leaned down towards my ear.

“He looked funny,” he said, shouting over the music.

“You’re ridiculous.” I laughed, nevertheless still continuing to dance with him. 

The girls gave me a thumbs up when Rudy wasn’t looking, I flipped them off in return. Rudy twirled me around on the dance floor, taking me into his arms with an enormous grin on his face. We danced to a few more songs before he dragged me back with him to the bar, ordering us more drinks.

“So, how do you feel about your first LA club?” he grinned, clanking our glasses together before taking a sip.

“It’s pretty intense, they definitely don’t go this hard back home.” I giggled, feeling a presence behind me. 

“Rudy, you promised me a dance!” Elaine pouted, grabbing on to his bicep.

“I think I’m danced out El,” he admitted.

“Don’t be such an old man, y/n will be fine right?” she eyed me, obviously wanting some quality time with the man.

“Yeah go on, I’m just going to stay right here.” I shrugged, Rudy looking like he really didn’t want to go with her. 

“Alright,” he sighed, Elaine tugging him with her. 

He glanced back at me, worry in his eyes. I held my drink up, a promise that I wasn’t going anywhere. I sat alone, sometimes one of the Maddie’s or Drew would come check on me. I drank way more than I should have, a feeling of dread taking over me. I started feeling sick, my stomach feeling queasy. I rubbed my forehead, the air around me becoming way too hot. Thankfully, Rudy came back. He noticed my discomfort immediately.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, coming closer to me.

“Sick,” I slurred, his form blurry.

“Do you want to go?” he questioned, a nod coming from me. 

He held on to me as I stumbled out of the club, leading me to his car. He opened the door for me, I sat down my legs still hanging on the outside. I put my head down, nausea creeping up the back of my throat. Rudy crouched in front of me, moving my hair out of my face.

“Queasy?” he guessed.

“I think I drank way too much.” I chuckled, my speech still slightly slurred.

“Now I feel bad for leaving you alone.” he pouted.

“Don’t be silly Ru,” I said. 

“You gonna be alright for the ride home baby?” he asked, a warm feeling traveling through me at the name. 

“I think so,” I sighed, sitting back in the passenger seat.

=================================

We made it back to Chase’s house, thankfully there was no vomiting on the way there. I trekked up the stairs, stumbling my way to my room. Rudy sat on the bed as he watched me gather my stuff to take a shower. He quirked a brow, eyeing me as I made my way to the bathroom.

“Why don’t you just wait to take a shower when you wake up. I don’t want you to fall.” he suggested, getting up to follow me. 

“I can’t sleep unless I feel clean, not even when I’m drunk.” I admitted, setting up everything.

“If you’re not out in 30 minutes, I’m coming in here to sit with you.” he declared.

“Um,” I mumbled, not sure how to respond.

He walked out before I could however, leaving me to my thoughts. I stripped quickly, or as quick as I could. I managed to not fall getting in, holding on the wall when everything started turning upside down. I had to take my time washing my hair since when I would lean my head back, my whole body wanted to follow. I scrubbed my face and body clean, waiting for my conditioner to rinse out. 

“It’s been 30 minutes babe,” Rudy barked, startling me.

“Jesus Rudy! You scared to shit out of me.” I exclaimed, raking my hands through my hair.

“Are you about done?” he questioned, taking a seat on the toilet lid. 

“Yes, can you go away now? I need to get changed.” I huffed, turning the water off.

I grabbed the towel from the hook, drying myself off. I wrapped my hair up in another towel, waiting for Rudy to leave.

“I’ll turn around.” he grumbled.

“Ru,” I groaned.

“I’m not leaving and that’s final.” he griped.

“You irritate me,” I growled, poking my head out from behind the curtain. 

He turned around so I could get out, crossing his arms over his chest. I changed quickly, giving him the ok to turn back. He watched me intently as I did my nightly routine, occasionally asking me why I used what and what it was for. I laughed when he would inspect something intently, reading everything on the product. I made my way back to my room, collapsing on the bed. Rudy laid down beside me, watching as I got comfy.

“Can I stay here with you?” he whispered, a hopeful gleam in his blue eyes.

“I don’t care,” I yawned, closing my eyes. 

He cheered, stripping his shirt before getting under the blankets with me. I felt him scoot closer to me, I cracked one eye open to look at him. He smiled as he laid his head on the pillow next to mine. 

“Night Ru,” I said softly.

“Sweet dreams baby,” he yawned, closing his eyes.

[lemonietrinket]

Coward ||| Chan & Reader

Summary: you and your best friend that have been conjoined at the hip since you were little got into an argument 3 weeks prior, and you can do little to escape it Genres: Angst, but a happy ending with fluff Warnings: consequences of and therefore inferences to a big argument (actual events left vague), one explicit insult, poor language (2x f**k) Word Count: 2,099 Theme: Not a song, but this edit inspired the fic AN: guess how long I’ve had this here in my drafts? September 9, 2019. finally got round to writing it, even though I knew exactly what would happen this is my brain’s bs I don’t write angst super often so, I hope you enjoy!

High school/non-idol AU

~~~

With a sigh you let your chin fall onto your arms. You stared at your own muffled reflection in the glass as you sat on the windowsill, brain in a haze. The cicadas were chirping away below your hunched body, their chorus at its opening hook, and they would continue long through the night—much like the chaos next door.

You supposed, through the thicket of your thoughts, that you should be grateful that the swathes of bodies were just chatting loudly to themselves, instead of screeching to some awful trap beat like they’d been doing the week before. The speakers were playing full blast however, and it didn’t help a single bit that it was one of your favourite songs.  In fact, that was part of the reason why you felt so heavy.

Had things been normal, you would have been there, dancing and smiling and joking with anyone who would listen. But you weren’t.

He hadn’t invited you. Your best friend. Didn’t invite you—his best friend—to his birthday party. Over something so petty too.

You could barely recall the intricacies of the argument. All you could remember was his terse scowl, his soft eyes going from sweet to sour in a second, and the words that cracked like a whip and branded you. Your best friend was so gentle, with a heart of gold—you had seen him at his worst once before, what you’d thought was his worst, and even then you couldn’t imagine he could even contain the spite that then flew from his lips. Even if there had been warning for what could come, nothing further still could have prepared you for it.

He’d become a sort of cold vicious, insults thrown carelessly that then cut deep as if they’d been heated in a bare flame. “How can you be such a fucking coward, Y/N?” had been the one that had twisted as it was pulled out. It still snuck up on you, pounced when you thought you’d calmed down, and then left you reeling in unsettled hurt all over again. 

It never made you cry though. Not during the day. As night crept over the horizon however, it was a different story, and the cicadas’ call became a tepid siren.

You let the warm night air hold you, as if it would work as a suitable replacement, though you knew it would never come close. Breathing in the night air, you sank deeper into the arms of your jumper. It smelt of comfort, of home, of happiness, and the loose hairs there tickled your nose. It was as if your reactions were on a set delay, as it took you several seconds to realise that it was dog hair that was on your sleeves, and that scent was from the person that had taken the comfort away from you. 

‘He doesn’t want you anymore,’ you had to remind yourself, ‘you shouldn’t spare a thought on him.’

But there you were, moping nevertheless, your thoughts practically consumed by him. You couldn’t blame yourself entirely for it, because even as soon as you tried to lift your head away from the memories embroidered in your sleeves, you were still hit by the realisation that you were sat by your bedroom window—the very one that he’d clambered through unprompted years before. He’d been so desperate to escape being forced to tolerate his uncle’s ramblings about roadworks and his pitch to him to get him to come and work at his business instead of music. “Silly songwriting,” had been what his uncle had referred to it as, and your best friend always got a kick out of impersonating the man’s wily poshness. 

You used to chuckle every time your brain procured the memory randomly for you. Now, it just stung.

He’d always wanted to do music, and he refused to give in no matter what anyone told him. His parents had always been supportive, and you figured that was partly why he was so determined with it, though the sentiment wasn’t shared with his extended relatives that often visited. You’d always thought he was brave for standing up to them, it was something that you’d always wanted to do to your own for other reasons, but never found the words to.

You caught yourself in the loop, shaking your head miserably at yourself and the situation before you. How were you supposed to move on when everything around you seeped with him? The caps you shared were slung on the bedposts, the mess of homework scattered upon your desk, the guitar in the corner easing gradually out of tune. Even the night itself was his time. How were you supposed to hide away from the night when you’d spent pretty much every other one before with him.

The ember heat of anger rose in your throat, your thoughts spiking at the distaste of how no one seemed to take the jagged loss of a best friend seriously, at least to enough to help you. The heat grew wilder then; it was never directed at him.

With the sun set below the horizon you felt your lower lip quiver and you loathed its tenderness. You’d watched the sunset with him so many times, you could conjure the exact shades of gold and crimson in your head, it was just a hindrance that you couldn’t paint it without his messy dark curls in the corner.

A knock came from the front door, ad you found yourself counting its beats. Three, no sharps, just drawled pauses in between. You immediately questioned yourself on as to why it mattered. But you knew exactly why. Wishing one of your parents was home to go and answer it would not fix the problem no matter how much you yearned it to, and so you convinced yourself to trundle down the stairs to see who it was. It was probably only a delivery guy after all. Hopefully they wouldn’t try and talk to you unnecessarily.

Biting the inside of your cheek and settling your shaking lips into a firm scowl you swung open the door with a warning glare already in your eye.

To your surprise, it was no person holding a stack of pizza or a parcel of any kind, just a boy you knew too well, with his fallen-tipped eyes all downtrodden.

“Chan, what the fuck are you doing here?” you snapped, your hand itching to slam the door straight back in his face. The only thing that stopped you was his bitten lips. You hated how you knew him so well and that it left you vulnerable.

He drew a smile upon his face, but it was too tight-lipped to be convincing. You wondered if he thought you a fool to try and lie, but still you left the door open. “Too many people,” he finally managed, one fist curling in the cradle of the other’s palm.

“It’s your party!” you snarled, your heart’s leniency not transferring across to your words. You watched his lips hammer shut as his sad eyes glanced away, explanations or excuses—how were you to tell—pooling behind his barricade. You let him stew, the vengeful spirit seeking some joy in his utter discomfort and you didn’t have it in you to hold it back quite yet. The weeks he’d left you in turmoil etched across your mind, the insecurities he’d played on that he couldn’t use the ignorance-card for in the slightest too. You weren’t ready to forgive him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tag a ‘never’ no matter how much you tried. 

His response broke through the blockade of his silence. “I realised that I messed up Y/N, and it’s not my party if you’re not there and,” his gaze came back to yours and you indulged him, meeting his eyes and how they glistened, “and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

The vengeful sprite vanished from your shoulder, and you were left without a clue as to what to do. You wanted to forgive him, and he seemed genuine. He’d never pulled a stunt like this before, and you’d known him ever since you were little. But neither could you put his words to bed, and the actions that followed. You’d been to every single one of his birthday parties, you’d been such a staple to him that this wasn’t actually the first time you strictly speaking hadn’t been invited—because there was no way you wouldn’t have been at his side to begin with.  But this was a first, and it hurt. 

You took in the sight of the boy that you’d refused to even look at for the past three weeks. He looked exactly how you’d left him, only emptier. His shadow grew in the flitting light of the dying day sky, much like the ones beneath his eyes had already done. He was closed in on himself, the subtle confidence he always oozed nowhere to be found. You couldn’t picture his high tone catching laughter tumbling from his lips like this. Neither could you hear those sharp edged words on them.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean it, it all just happened and... and this doesn’t fix it—I made you cry, and I hate that I did! It... it’s my responsibility. I accept that it’s my fault, and I’m sorry, I really am—”

You stepped from your doorway and took him into your arms. Three weeks was too long of a time to be from them after all, and you couldn’t stand the way the tears threatened to spill over both your eyes and his. 

He held onto you as soon as you fit against him as perfectly as you always did, hands clutching at your jumper while he nestled his head into your hair. Your tears dampened the collar of his sweater as you sighed, a staggered breath that only just pulled you back from crying entirely. You focused on him, just like you had done before, only this time it was less painful. You realised he smelt different than before, and it soon occurred to you that it was your scent that was missing. It surprised you to discover just how much of your perfume ended up all over him. It wasn’t like you were super affectionate and cuddly friends either. Your lips twitched into a smile without a single thought discarded.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, swaying before your wide open door as Chan slowly regained his stability. All the midges were probably fleeing inside but this once you didn’t mind. You had your comfort back, and even though things weren’t perfect, you could begin to move forward as things should.

“You better make it up to me,” you ordered, a feeble laugh filtering through. 

He sniffed and its stunned you just how close to crying he’d been. “I know, I will, I promise.”

Rubbing his back soothingly, you eased him into swinging gently with the song. It earnt you a warbled laugh, but it meant his usual self was returning. “Do you want to play Mario Kart and see how long it takes for someone to notice?”

You pulled away gently hearing him chuckle awkwardly. Peering up you saw his pink tinged cheeks and wet eyes that he half-covered-half-wiped with his hand. He was the same old Chan you’d known for years after all. “Sounds perfect!” You smiled, helping him wipe his tears with the side of your finger which caused him to sheepishly smile and repeat ‘I’m ok, I’m ok...!’ 

Unsure how to handle the next part, you ended up leading him inside his second home with an awkward shimmy of your arms. It was meant to be a dance move, but it didn’t look much like one and it barely fit the theme of the song pummelling across the air. It didn’t matter to you though, it was really a test of the waters, and fortunately: it worked.

Your restored best friend giggled shyly as he followed, steadying his breath as he watched you shuffle through your front door. He would make all his words up to you, he vowed he would. They’d all been misplaced, all been resentments with himself that he’d sprung weakly on the first other he found, and of course that was going to be you. He was going to make it right, never let you down, help you with whatever you asked—no excuses—and maybe let you win a few times at Mario Kart. And maybe one day he would finally work up the courage to tell you the truth.

~~~

AN: i wrote a thing! go brain!

[edited: may 31]

Masterlist

[shitty-marvel-fan732]

Boyfriend?

Author’s Note: 

Hello my friends! This is my first ever Loki x Reader oneshot, so I hope I didn’t do too poorly! This fic was beta-read by the wonderful @twentytwohearts​! 

If you end up liking this fic, let me know with a comment or reblog! I am taking requests for Loki as well as several other marvel characters, and if this fic inspires you, feel free to send one in!

Summary: Y/N and Loki have been getting closer for several weeks, but he’s still very ambivalent about their relationship status. Toss in a Stark party and an over eager fan and what will happen? 

IDEK y’all, I’m shit at summaries. Just…read it lol. 

“Mmmmm,” I hummed non-committedly as some older man in a suit more expensive than my entire life was worth continued rambling on next to me. I shifted uncomfortably in the ridiculous heels that Wanda had insisted I wear tonight, mentally groaning at the way they pinched my toes. I could already feel the blisters forming over the calloused soles of my aching feet.

 I was stuck at one of Tony’s famous parties, forced into a dress and heels by an overly zealous Sokovian, and hating every second. To add insult to my injury, I’d been caged into a conversation with one of the most boring, awkward men I’d ever met in my life. I couldn’t be sure exactly how long it’d been, but I did know it had been too long. I’d been subjected to literal torture, on multiple occasions, and even so I was sure this was worse. 

He seemed innocuous enough at first – albeit very awkward. He was thin and tall, with a slightly receding hairline and an air of a man that made more money than I could possibly fathom. As soon as I unintentionally made eye contact with him from across the crowded room, his face lit up like a Christmas tree. He immediately made a beeline over to me with all the excitement and grace of an overexcited labrador puppy. He’d launched into conversation instantly, chatting eagerly about my abilities and past as if he had lived it himself. It was more than a bit creepy really how many details he knew about me and my life. 

At first, I was polite – smiling and nodding along with him as he animatedly spoke, all the while internally wishing to be literally anywhere else. I supplied as little as possible to our little chat, desperately hoping he would run out of steam and leave. But after what felt like hours, it was clear he wasn’t going to take the hint. I finally determined it’d been long enough, so I tried to gracefully leave the conversation. 

Unfortunately, all my attempts  fell on deaf ears. Though I was certain any sane person would’ve understood how uncomfortable I was based solely on body language, the eager man was evidently unaware of my obvious attempts to end our interaction, verbal or otherwise. He was either the most socially inept dude to have ever lived or the most persistent fan I’d ever encountered. Personally, I was beginning to think it was a bit of both, but regardless I was more than ready to leave politeness behind and tell him point-blank to fuck off. If it hadn’t been for Tony’s lecture beforehand about not doing exactly that, I probably would have done it already. 

Eyes scanning the room, I desperately looked for a way out of the encounter. After a few seconds my eyes fell upon Steve’s sympathetic gaze. 

Cap and I had known each other for a long time, and he knew as well as I did that if I didn’t find a socially acceptable way out soon that I’d resort to less than polite tactics to remove this dude from my side. He nodded once at me in understanding, before excusing himself from his own conversation and disappearing into the crowd. 

“So, I don’t know if I’d mentioned it or not yet, but you look really really good tonight,” the red-faced man standing next to me said loudly, pulling my attention away from Cap. Though internally I was screaming, I simply shot him a polite thin-lipped smile. 

“You did. Thank you once again,“ I replied shortly. He had, in fact, mentioned this multiple times tonight, and I was beginning to feel my patience run dangerously thin. He was evidently not fazed by my facial expression nor the irritated tone of my voice, and only smiled wider at my response. 

Fortunately for me, his next comment was cut off by the sudden presence of another body pressed to my back. At first I tensed, unsure of the contact, but felt myself relax as I recognized the familiar feel of leather armor-clad arms wrapping themselves securely around my waist. 

“I’ll never understand how you mortals can have spoken a language your entire lives and still not have an adequate grasp over its use,” Loki interrupted smoothly, breath fanning my ear as he spoke. I had to bite down on my lower lip to keep from laughing at the look on the poor man’s face as he realized who was standing behind me. 

” I– uhm. I’m sorry, what?“ the man stuttered out, confusion and fear overtaking his features. 

“Good. You said my dearest Y/N looked ‘really good’ tonight,” came Loki’s smooth reply. “Now, perhaps there is some kind of midgardian norm that I am unaware of, or maybe you have some sort of deficiency that’s affecting your eyesight? Nevertheless, I would feel remiss if I did not mention how many different adjectives there are to describe Y/N at this moment: radiant, elegant, sublime, exquisite, just to name a few among the many there are. Hundreds more I’d wager, but of all the words in the dictionary you chose ‘good’? Hm.”

The man’s face visibly paled as the Prince spoke, and I could feel the irritation and possessiveness seeping from his body with each word he spoke. His body tensed against my back and I could instantly tell that he was growing angry and impatient with the man before us.  My hands came to rest over the tops of his; I began gently rubbing soft circles into his flesh in an effort to soothe him. Though I secretly adored the praise and affirmation of his feelings, I’d promised Tony not to cause a scene, and I was certain that promise extended to Loki as well. I’d spent the better part of my evening desperately trying to be good, and I’d be damned if I was going to let all that effort go to waste simply because a certain dark-haired Asgardian couldn’t control his temper. Thankfully, I felt the tall god lean slightly into my touch, his tense form relaxing gradually.

“I’m so sorry…I had no — I didn’t know that he was your…that you were his…” the man floundered and I began to feel a twinge of pity for his clear distress. 

“Boyfriend?” I supplied with a small chuckle. The man nodded frantically, however his reaction was overshadowed by the Asgardian behind me. I felt Loki tense in response to my words, and I turned my head to see his beautiful face distorted into a grimace.

Of course. 

I’d been so thankful for his presence I’d clearly forgotten about his seeming discomfort with the label. Loki clearly despised the term, and never failed to make his feelings known.Though in the past months I’d grown exceptionally close to the god of mischief, he and I had never truly spoken about our 'relationship’. 

  Much to Loki’s discomfort, I often referred to him as my boyfriend. In turn he referred to me as “dear Y/N,” “my pet,” “love,” or something of the like. Though it didn’t bother me at first, I was beginning to feel very insecure at his seeming inability to label our relationship. Each time the word was brought up he always reacted just as he was now: visibly uncomfortable and dismayed. 

With every scowl, every look of disgust I felt a tiny pang in my heart that was only growing larger with each instance. Tonight was no exception, and I felt my face physically drop in response to his reaction. My palms began uncomfortably sweating, and I detangled myself from his arms as nonchalantly as possible. My thoughts were clouded with a haze of disappointment. The room began to feel too busy – the voices all seeming to scream directly into my ear and the air thick and suffocating. 

Suddenly feeling ill, I muttered an excuse and began to walk away from the two. No longer caring about how I was seen, I walked quickly through the crowd of people and out into the hallway. I braced myself against the wall as I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. My head was spinning with disjointed thoughts as I took deep breaths of the cool air. I pulled the God-forsaken heels from my feet roughly, desperate to give myself some degree of comfort as I slowly came back to reality. I leaned my head against the wall in exhaustion – my mind practically screaming taunts of embarrassment and shame. 

When Thor had first arrived unannounced to the tower with the trickster in tow, the team and I had been largely skeptical. However, in time Loki proved himself to have indeed been “rehabilitated,” and after a while Steve and Tony had allowed him to start going on missions with the team. Slowly but surely the two of us began to bond; at first it was over his fascination with my abilities and our mutual love of literature, but as the weeks went by I found myself developing feelings I didn’t quite understand for the lanky god. To my extreme surprise, I began to feel that my affections were reciprocated. The last few weeks had been wonderful– the two of us had fallen into a natural rhythm of spending time together, both on missions and otherwise.

Reflecting back on our time spent together, I felt the tiny pang of insecurity grow larger in my chest, filling me with feelings of shame and embarrassment. Clearly, Loki didn’t feel the same about our relationship as I did, if it could even be classified as such. And why should he? He was a Prince – a literal god – and I was just a lowly mortal. I was a fool. A pitiful, lovestruck girl that fell for someone who would never love her the same. It was depressing really. I chuckled humorlessly as I realized how sappy and teen-novelesque my situation had become. 

“Love?” his voice drifted into my ears, effectively pulling me out of my thoughts for the moment. I kept my head hung low and eyes trained on the floor. The knots in my stomach tightened their grip at the usually welcomed sound of his voice. My mind only raced faster as he approached me and my heart beat wildly out of control. 

I felt familiar, soft fingers hook their way under my chin as Loki gently lifted my face to meet his. His expression was one of irritation – likely lingering from the interaction with that insufferable businessman – but his green-blue eyes swam with a much gentler sort of feeling. Though he rarely showed true emotion on his face, his eyes were a different story. Impossibly deep and full of secrets, they always betrayed his true feelings. I’d become close enough to the lanky god in the past weeks that I was able to decipher those emotions with stunning accuracy. Currently, his eyes exuded feelings of concern and affection. 

“Are you alright?” he questioned gently. I exhaled lightly. 

“I’m fine.” I muttered, eyes turning downwards once more. Loki’s eyes sparkled with slight amusement as one of his brows quirked upwards. 

“So bold of you my dear, to attempt to withhold the truth from the god of lies,” he teased, lips curling into a lopsided smirk. 

All the feelings of embarrassment and shame abruptly shifted within me at the sight of his smug face. Internally, my overwhelming sadness was turning to anger and resentment quicker than I could control. 

“I’m not lying!“ I snapped, brows furrowing and body practically jumping away from his. His expression morphed from amused to concerned instantly, forehead crinkling in confusion. 

“Is this about that infuriating man back there?” he questioned, confusion and worry evident in his tone. “If so, please don’t trouble yourself any longer over the matter. I think I’ve made it perfectly cle–”

“He was sweet Loki,” I grumbled stubbornly, cutting him off. Although I had absolutely no desire to return to a conversation with him, the man was clearly well-intentioned. I’d actually forgotten all about him – but I couldn’t stand to hear Loki make some excuse for my poor mood.

He recoiled slightly at my display of irritation, surprised. I’d never interrupted him before and it was obvious he was even more perplexed than before with the unexpected outburst. Never one to show weakness, his face abruptly shifted to his typical expressionless mask. 

  “Sweet? You didn’t seem to think so whilst he was harassing you before, now did you?” he questioned cooly. “I know your face well enough by now, dearest Y/N, and your eyes were practically screaming for assistance.”

I scoffed, arms coming to rest petulantly across my chest. 

“Well if you know me as well as you claim, then by all means you should have no problem understanding why I’m upset,” I huffed, hoping he took the bait and simply asked why I was upset. Instead, I was infuriated as I watched a sly grin make its way across his handsome features. 

“But I thought you weren’t upset sweetling?” he grinned. He looked extremely proud of himself – clearly ecstatic to have coerced me into admitting that I’d lied, even though he’d known so since the start. 

Ordinarily I adored his intelligence – delighting in hearing the inner workings of his mind – but right now his display of wit combined with the smug expression he was sporting made my fists tingle with the urge to punch him straight in the face. I could feel my face burn red with anger at the sly remark and my eyes narrowed into near slits. 

“Oh, shut up Loki,” I snapped. “Clearly, we both know I’m pissed." 

"Then by all means, please enlighten me, because I evidently don’t understand,” he taunted. Though his words were laced with his trademarked contempt, I could see the twinge of concern still evident in his eyes. The small indication that he seemed to care about me caused all the feelings of sadness and insecurity to bubble back up to the surface. I sighed, taking a breath to steady myself before deciding to just dive right into what was sure to be an extremely awkward conversation.

“I don’t understand you! Or – I guess – I don’t understand us. What we are. I mean, are you ashamed of me because I’m not from Asgard or something? Or do you just not feel the same way I do? Oh god, I’ve completely misinterpreted everything haven’t I? I’m so stupid, I–” I babbled quickly, words slurring together with speed and face flushing. 

Loki’s soft hands came to rest on my arms, effectively cutting off my panicked ramblings. His facial expression was a strange mix of pity, fear, and confusion that I’d never seen before. I felt tears begin to prick the corners of my eyes and a burning sensation overwhelmed my sinuses. I cast my eyes downward once more, suddenly filled with self-pity and feeling extremely exposed. Loki was having none of that – his gentle fingers came to rest under my chin, pulling my face back up to meet his gaze once more. 

“Why in all the nine realms would you think I don’t feel the same?” he mused softly, brows dipping lower with concern and fingers gently caressing my face. “Have I not made my affections clear?”

“Well, you tell me, Loki. When we’re alone I think I know where we stand, but then there are incidents like tonight that make me think differently. I mean, you visibly cringe when I refer to you as my boyfriend…" I started, frown deepening at his visible recoil at the term. “See! Just like that, what is that? Do you not consider us together? Are we not, oh god, I dunno exclusive?”

Loki sighed, removing his hands from my face and rubbing his face tiredly. He looked like a parent exasperated with their child. Though I was pretty sure that wasn’t his intention, the small action reignited the spark of anger and resentment I’d felt before, and the overwhelming urge to punch him in his stupid handsome face returned abruptly. 

“You know what, whatever. I don’t care what you refer to me as anymore Loki. Better yet, just don’t refer to me at all,“ I spat, turning angrily on my heel and stomping away. 

I didn’t make it more than a few steps before I felt a hand on my bicep and I was twirled back around. Suddenly I was chest to chest with an extremely pissed off looking god. Never one to back down from confrontation, I glared definantly into his face. His eyes were almost eerie, a stormy mix of blue and green that reminded me of a sea just before a hurricane. His expression was nearly unreadable as his face searched mine – mouth set in a thin line and dark brows furrowed in anger. 

“You truly think so little of me and of yourself that you assume that I am embarrassed by you?” he practically seethed. “Darling, I could never and will never be embarrassed by your presence in my life. Do not mistake my reluctance to use trivial, midgardian terms as a reluctance to share my infatuation with you.”

My eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, silently urging him to continue since I clearly was not understanding what he was getting at. He exhaled loudly, hand leaving my arm to run through his inky locks in another show of exasperation. 

“I don’t understand,” I muttered, still hoping to prompt him into further explanation. His eyes seemed to soften marginally as they swept over my face. I was beginning to feel nearly uncomfortable under the god’s heavy gaze, but (as was usually the case) I also felt the all too familiar feelings of butterflies in my lower belly that only Loki’s attention seemed to stir. After an immeasurable length of time, he sighed once more, soft fingers parting from his sides to come to rest on my body. One of his hands reached down to latch onto the curve of my waist firmly. He pulled our chests flush with one another gently. The other fluttered delicately to the side of my face, thumb rubbing small circles into the soft flesh. My own palms came to rest across the smooth planes of his armor-clad chest – an action my body took without having to consult with my mind first. 

“Dearest, I think I should first apologize for the way my actions have made you feel,” he started gently, voice low in tone and volume and words practically dripping with affection and remorse as he looked down at me. “Never in all the time I’ve spent with you have I noticed any signs of your discomfort; if I had, we would’ve had this discussion much sooner.”

I swallowed thickly, unsure of where he was going with this. Though I wanted him to get on with it and just tell me how he felt, part of me wished I’d never brought the subject up to begin with. Feelings of indecision and doubt made their home in the pit of my stomach as I waited impatiently for him to continue. 

“As you know I often, shall we say, struggle to make sense of the customs and norms here,” he continued. “Though I’ve read vast amounts on the subject, I can’t seem to quite grasp the ‘normal’ way of life here – especially when it comes to your people’s courting traditions.”

I felt my wrinkled brows quirk upwards in surprise, not expecting the conversation to turn this way. My heart hammered so loudly in my chest with anticipation, I was sure he could hear it. If he could, he didn’t let it show. His gaze never wavered from my own – grey-blue eyes swimming with vulnerability as they surveyed my face. 

"As you’d probably expect, things are done much differently on Asgard. What you refer to as 'dating’ we call 'courting’, and the expectations and labels wildly differ. We call our partners  'Kærasti’ when speaking of them to others and 'elskan mín' when speaking with one another. Both of which translate loosely to 'my darling loved one’,” he explained softly. 

A short intake of breath nearly brought me out of the trance I’d felt like I’d been under the entire time Loki had been speaking. His gentle words and piercing gaze had been almost hypnotic; I’d spent the better part of the last few moments wholly enthralled by the smooth timbre of his voice, savoring the affection he radiated with each word. The words  'elskan mín' filtered its way through my ears into the fog that was . Though still foreign to my ears, I knew I’d heard the phrase before. 

“And, if I’m correct, the customary term for partners on this realm is 'boyfriend/girlfriend’?” he questioned gently. I nodded dumbly, still in too much of a daze to properly form words. “Ahh, and you see therein lies my problem. Why should I devalue my feelings for you with such a loose, meaningless term? I much prefer the ones used back home. Terms that are more…descriptive of the state of our partnership.”

I was still moderately struggling to process what was being said, my mind consumed mostly of observations on his voice and eyes. But as I struggled to decipher his words, a realization struck me like a bullet. I suddenly realized where I’d heard the term 'elskan mín' before. It was in another lovestruck trance, memories a million miles away from this dimly lit hallway that my ears had picked up the endearing phrase for the first time. 

Spoken in hushed murmurs by the very same god that was explaining the meaning to me now. 

Spoken to me.

A blush began to creep its way up my neck at the stark realization, mortification the likes of which I’d never experienced before crashing over me like a tsunami. Whether he truly was a mind reader (I hadn’t ever been truly convinced that he wasn’t) or if my reddened face and sheepish expression had alerted him to my obvious embarrassment, he seemed to understand immediately. The hand that had been softly caressing my hip gave me a small squeeze of encouragement. Even with the affectionate gesture, the urge to bury myself as deeply into the floor as possible was still raging in my chest. 

“Oh,” I squeaked. His eyes sparkled with amusement and his lip curled into his dazzling smirk. 

“I gather, based on your reaction tonight, that you made the incorrect assumption that I was – what – disgusted by the idea of a monogamous relationship?” he asked plainly, getting straight to the point. Once again I nodded silently, my mind still too overworked to speak.

My face was burning with embarrassment, and I buried my head into his chest in a vain effort to hide from his amused gaze. Loki chuckled – the vibrations reverberating through his body and tickling my face. I couldn’t see his expression from my position, but I could picture it perfectly in my mind. The skin around his eyes was very likely crinkled from the size of his smile and his eyes a bright, clear blue lit brightly with a sparkle of amusement. The mental image alone was enough to send happy butterflies swirling around in my stomach, despite the lingering embarrassment. His arms left my sides as he chuckled – one closed itself around my back, pulling me securely against his chest, and the other came to rest on the base of my neck. His long fingers gently entangled themselves in the hair at the base of my head. His cheek found its home on the crown of my head, and I could feel his smooth lips gently place a kiss there. I shivered lightly at the sensation, embarrassment fading a marginal amount at the comforting embrace. 

“Well, as thoroughly enjoyable as I find your sheepish state, I think we should clarify things,” he murmured softly against my hair. I hummed in agreement, waiting for him to start. 

“My love, I truly am sorry that I ever made you doubt the feelings I have for you,” he whispered, causing yet another blush to break out across my face. “But I hope it’s enough that I tell you now. I am so infatuated with you, my dear Y/N, I do not care to hide that fact from anyone. I would tell anyone the same – especially irritating men like the one you were chatting with tonight. The hesitation you perceived has absolutely nothing to do with my affections for you, nor does it indicate a desire to be free from labels. I simply loathe the overly simplified, descriptionless terms that are the norm on this planet. But if it makes you happy, I’m sure I can –”

“No!” I blurted, cutting his next statement off completely. My head rose from its place nestled in Loki’s strong chest and my hands balled into fists atop the thick armor covering his chest in an effort to gain his attention. My eyes searched his, and based on the surprise and confusion evident in his pale blue irises, I would wager that I looked at least a little crazy in this moment. It wasn’t like me to interrupt him while speaking and this was the second time in mere hours that I’d done so. My neck warmed marginally as I spoke up, the now familiar feelings of embarrassment rising within me once more as I looked upwards at the amused expression on Loki’s handsome face. I shoved the embarrassment back down, steadying myself with a deep breath before I spoke. 

“Sorry. I just – I don’t want you to change the way you act around me, at all,” I stammered, confidence deflating slightly as I realized I didn’t actually quite know what I wanted to say. He wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion, eyes roaming across my reddened face in search of answers. “I mean, it’s okay with me, whatever you choose to refer to me as. As long as I’m the only one you refer to.”

His face broke out into the devilish smirk that made my knees go weak. I suddenly had slight trouble standing upright. Luckily for me, his strong arms were still wrapped around my frame, and he had no qualms about holding me tighter in his embrace. He pulled me closer to his body with one arm as his other snaked its way up to the side of my face. Loki’s thumb rubbed gently across my mouth as we gazed at each other, making my head go cloudy with memories of his smooth lips pressed against mine. He leaned down so close to my face that I could feel the warmth across my lips from each breath he took. The feelings of affection and anticipation curled themselves in my belly with such intensity that I almost missed his soft voice as he replied. 

“Are you sure elskan mín?” he whispered, tone teeming with an off-character level of uncertainty. Though his voice made him seem unsure his body reacted as it always did when we were alone.  His lips were so close to mine now that I could feel them brush teasingly against me with each tender word. I felt my brain short-circuit at the brief touch. Though there was still so much to be said, so much to discuss, I couldn’t handle the irritating distance between us for another second. So I grabbed the sides of his face and pulled his lips down to mine in lieu of a response. My fingers traced aimless patterns across the smooth planes of his sharp jawline as our lips tangled in an all too familiar dance. 

Though we’d shared more than our fair share of kisses in the past months, this one felt different somehow. Each place his hands touched felt like they left a trail of fire in their wake and the way his lips moved against mine felt almost possessive. My entire being felt like it was floating on pure air as we kissed, and I felt extreme disappointment when I had to pull back to breathe. Evidently, Loki did not share my need for oxygen, and he continued to place small kisses across my face. Through my labored breathing and the love-filled haze that was clouding my thoughts I was still able to internally swoon at the sweet action. Typically, Loki was just as he appeared to be: calm, self-assured, and reluctant to express his affection, lest he become vulnerable. But it seemed that he wasn’t too concerned with showing his vulnerability at the moment, and the feeling of his soft lips roaming across the skin of my face and neck caused the butterflies in my belly to swarm with glee. 

Eventually he slowed his affectionate attack, and his forehead came to rest against mine. We stood like this for an immeasurable amount of time, eyes closed, neither of us speaking a word as the muffled sounds of the party filtered in from the hall. I smiled, elated as my eyes fluttered open and I drank in my favorite sight – Loki, at his most exposed. His eyes were still closed, breathing slightly ragged, a small but genuine smile gracing his thin lips, and the normally creamy skin of his cheeks blotchy with patches of pink. There was no greater feeling in this world than seeing him in such an utterly blissful state and knowing I was somehow lucky enough to have been the cause. 

“Yes.” I whispered gently, hesitant to break the peaceful cocoon that we’d encased ourselves in. Loki’s eyelids opened lazily, revealing the pale blue color that I’d come to dream about. 

“Yes?” he repeated questioningly. I giggled lightly at the look of slight confusion that painted the handsome god’s features. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” I explained patiently. A flash of understanding passed his face at the statement, and his face broke out into yet another knee-buckling smile. He leaned his head down towards mine – no doubt about to capture my lips in a sweet kiss. Though my body was screaming against the movement, I ducked my head backwards to avoid his kiss. His brows furrowed in confusion, the creases on his forehead deepening at the amused giggle that escaped me at the sight. 

“I am sure, but can you do me one favor?” I asked innocently. His face remained puzzled as he slowly nodded. His hands resumed their previous ministrations, smoothly running down the length of my body and back as we stood. 

“Can you not make a face like you’ve smelled something bad when someone uses the word boyfriend? Cause I don’t care how cute you are, I am never going to be cool with that,” I requested semi-jokingly. Loki merely blinked for a moment, a stunned look on his face as he took in my words. I felt a tingle of insecurity pass through my chest at his reaction, but waited patiently for a response nonetheless. 

After what felt like hours, the look of stunned confusion passed his features as his most genuine, face-splitting smile took over. He chuckled as he pulled me closer into his chest – the sound sending waves of relief through me as I snuggled readily into his embrace.

“Duly noted, my love.”

[zoryany]

Hey! Not sure if you’re still taking request for ficlet prompts but 67 with Luke + Padmé pleaseeeee!!! ❤️

send me ficlet prompts – optionally include characters67 –  My father may look like the scary one, but it’s my mother you need to be afraid of.(you sent me this SO LONG AGO and I’ve been wanting to answer it SO BADLY but lacked the inspiration until now. it kinda got away from me, ended up being more skysolo than I intended, and I accidentally created a new AU but ahh, I hope it was worth the wait!)

Gripping the controls of the speeder tight enough for his knuckles to turn white, Han Solo shifted nervously in the pilot’s seat. His passenger, looking incredible as always in his simple yet finely made black tunic and trousers, had the audacity to appear completely casual and not at all bothered. How in all the hells was Luke so calm?

Han licked his lips and furrowed his brow. Was he sweating? Why was he so nervous? He could out-shoot any bounty hunter, out-fly just about any pilot and charm the slime off a Hutt – he could do this, too. It was just meeting someone’s parents. He was good with people, so this should be no exception, right? Why should this time be any different?

Oh, right, that’s why, Han thought to himself as the Palace came into view. This time, the parents I’m meeting just so happen to be in charge of the entire kriffin’ galaxy!

He really did seem to have a particular kind of luck with his romantic interests, didn’t he?

“Relax, Han,” his companion soothed, resting a hand on his shoulder and tracing gentle circles there with his thumb. “They’re really not as scary as everyone makes out. Trust me. They don’t bite.”

“Nah, but I’ve seen what your old man is capable of,” he replied without thinking, instantly regretting it when the hand on his shoulder tensed, slightly.

“Yeah.” Han could practically feel the conflict and guilt radiating from the seat next to him, and he was ready to cut in with profuse apologies and lay himself down at the mercy of the court, but a wry laugh from Luke stopped him. “He makes a point not to do anything… to enforce the will of the Empire at home, so you should be good.”

Han didn’t miss the hesitation or the irony in those words, but Luke was smiling, at least, so he relaxed a little bit.

“Besides,” Luke continued, shrugging, “Father’s not the one you need to worry about. My father may look like the scary one, but it’s really my mother you need to be afraid of. And, well, my sister too, probably. Father’s protective, definitely a force to be reckoned with, but it’s no match for the bond between a mother and her child, or the one between twins.” A pause. Then, almost as an afterthought, “They’re also both politicians. Nothing is more dangerous than words.”

The grin on Luke’s face had taken on a wicked quality, a slight level of menace in his voice, and Han suddenly found himself sweating profusely. “Tell me again why this was a good idea?”

Bright peals of laughter filled the speeder as Luke had a good chortle at his expense. Han grumbled as the kid nudged him playfully and moved his hand to the back of Han’s neck, fingers snaking their way into his hair. “Relax. I’m just messing with you. Mostly. It’s gonna be fine. I promise. I’ve got a good feeling about this.”

Oh. That boded well.

***

As Luke approached the private entrance at the back of the palace, he had to admit to himself that he shared at least some of Han’s trepidation. Not quite to the same extent, but a hint of dread prickled at the back of his neck nonetheless. 

“Look, Han, I – I know I said I had a good feeling about this. And I know I assured you everything would be fine, but…” He hesitated. While he wasn’t nearly as eloquent as his mother or sister, he was unaccustomed to being as at a loss for words as he often found himself when he was around Han. Something about this smuggler made him feel more like a farmboy than the prince he’d been raised as. Normally, he didn’t mind, but this… this was important. “My family can be a lot. And, well, we’ve only known each other a few weeks, and all. So, I mean, if you’re not ready – ”

“Hey,” Han cut in, resting a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “I know how much this means to you – how much your family means to you. You think it’s time we all meet then I trust you.” He grinned, cheekily. “Don’t go thinkin’ you can get rid of me that easily, Your Worship.”

Rolling his eyes, Luke returned Han’s grin before nudging him with his elbow. “Alright, alright. Let’s get going, then. No point in putting it off.” He could still feel a healthy level of anxiety rolling off of Han, but his good-natured ribbing and confident stride made Luke feel a bit more at ease.

At least, it did until they stepped into his family’s sitting room and saw the look Leia was giving them.

“Y’know,” she said slowly, her voice smooth and silky, “I was sure I’d seen the height of your stupidity already.” She wore a dangerous smile on her face, one Luke knew far too well, and it only grew wider when he scowled at her. “I was sure you couldn’t do anything more idiotic than the time you took Father’s speeder out for a joy ride and thought he wouldn’t notice. But I think you’ve really outdone yourself this time, well done.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The look of delight on Leia’s face had quickly become the most accurate impression of an anooba playing with its meal before devouring it that Luke had ever seen. “Disappearing for weeks on end, leaving us nothing but a cryptic note, no hint of where you’ve gone and hardly a word from you over holocall, then showing back up here with this scruffy-looking scoundrel in tow?” Behind him, Han bristled, which really only served to feed into Leia’s amusement. “Honestly, Luke, I’m impressed. I mean it! The fit Father threw when he found out was spectacular, I haven’t seen anything like it since – well, the speeder incident, actually.”

Despite how entertained Leia seemed by all of this – and there was a vein of genuine amusement in her words – Luke could also sense her underlying worry. Nobody else would be able to detect the tension in her body, the shadow of concern in her eyes, the minute tremor in her voice… She was his twin, and he suddenly felt incredibly guilty for leaving her, even temporarily.

I’m sorry, Leia, he muttered through their bond.

Don’t you dare pull anything like that again, or I might have to strangle you.

With Han oblivious to their silent exchange, Luke decided to mirror Leia’s outward attitude as he raised a brow at her then turned to his “scruffy-looking scoundrel,” who looked like he was trying to decide whether to be terrified or irate. He ended up landing somewhere in the middle. “Han, it is my pleasure to introduce to you Her Royal Imperial Highness, Princess Leia Naberrie-Skywalker, my dear, lovely sister and twin. Leia, this is Captain Han Solo, my – ” He hesitated a moment, glancing at Han as the word caught in his throat. They never did decide what they were going to label their relationship as to his family. Han just gave him a small shrug and a short nod, prompting Luke to just pick something, for now. “He’s my companion.”

“Believe me,” Leia drawled, the delight on her face melting into a much colder, calculating look, “the pleasure is all mine.” Her eyes were piercing as she looked Han up and down, causing him to shift under her gaze. They lingered for a moment as she came to whatever conclusion she had about him before flicking them to meet Luke’s. “Mother’s expecting you in her parlour. Better not keep her waiting.”

All the warmth had left his sister’s voice, by now, but he could still feel her quiet concern. Leia sent him a silent Good luck as Luke led Han towards his mother’s chambers, a fresh knot of anxiety tying his stomach into knots as they went.

***

“Well,” the kid said quietly next to him, “that’s one down.”

Han rubbed the back of his neck, wondering if maybe he should’ve turned back when Luke gave him the chance, but tried to cling to a shred of optimism nevertheless. “If your mom’s anything like your sister, maybe I would’ve had more luck meeting your dad, first. Wasn’t expecting to get eaten alive like this.”

Luke chuckled darkly and shook his head. “No, trust me, it’s for the best that Father’s off-world until tonight. Leia’s all bark and no bite and Mother… you do have to earn her respect, but she’ll give you a fair chance to do so. Father, on the other hand…” Pausing a moment, he bit his lip while searching for the right words. “Well. You said yourself. You’ve seen what he can do.”

He knew full well how much Luke idolized his father. Pure admiration flooded his baby blues any time he brought him up, especially when he’d neglected to share with Han the little detail of his true line of work. It was unnerving, now, to see the discomfort in his face as he discussed Vader, but Han did have to admit to the relief he felt in knowing Luke’s devotion didn’t overshadow his moral code.

They reached the door to the Empress’ parlour before Han had a chance to say anything in response, so he just sighed and glanced down at Luke. “Well, I s’pose it’s now or never.”

Nodding in response, the kid gave the door two sharp raps before pushing it open and leading Han into a large, pleasantly decorated room. The floor was covered in a plush, bright crimson carpet except for directly in front of the fireplace at the far end of the room, which was lined with dark, smooth stones. Artwork lined the walls, from lavish paintings of lush worlds to intricately woven tapestries to complicated abstract works Han would never understand even if he dedicated the rest of his life to interpreting them. The room was furnished with two large, gold-trimmed sofas and a matching armchair that resembled a throne, all encircling an ornate golden table. Han felt entirely out of place, surrounded by this much luxury; even Luke didn’t look quite at home in his surroundings.

The woman before them, however, matched the decor perfectly. Dressed in a flowing, deep blue gown and a sheer, silvery cape, with a golden circlet perched atop the chestnut curls that cascaded past her shoulders and down her back, she stood regally in the centre of the room, awaiting their approach. Trying to keep himself from staring, Han fell into a kneeling position next to Luke, who was the picture of contrition.

“Mother. I have returned home, and I beg your forgiveness for my unannounced absence.” 

Having spent the first several weeks of their relationship unaware of his royal status, Han had never imagined Luke’s voice could sound so regal. It sure was a far cry from the naive, chattering kid who’d struck up conversation with him in a run-down shipyard on Ord Mantell. He had to admit, the change was a little spooky.

A few moments passed, feeling like hours, considering how nervous he was, but it wasn’t long before the woman strode forward and wrapped her arms around Luke, pulling him up. “Luke!” she breathed, pulling him into an embrace. Han suddenly felt like he was intruding on something very private. “My son, it’s so good to have you home.” She pulled out of the hug and gripped his shoulders, a stern look etched in her features. “Don’t you ever do anything like that again! If something had happened to you – What in the stars possessed you to do something so rash?”

Luke never did tell Han why he’d run in the first place. Sure, he’d asked, but the kid would get evasive every time he did so eventually he dropped the subject. Under his mother’s gaze, now, it was a lot more difficult to dodge the question, but Luke still seemed determined to do so.

“Oh, sweetheart,” the Empress sighed, brushing her fingers through his hair. “We can discuss this later, when your father returns.” Luke stiffened but bowed his head in acknowledgement. “Now! Are you going to introduce me to your guest, or were you planning on leaving him to kneel at our feet all day?”

Han’s head snapped up and he met Luke’s eyes, who nodded at him to rise. “Mother, this is Captain Han Solo of The Millennium Falcon. I’ve spent the last several weeks in his company, and the two of us have grown… close.”

He could practically feel the kid’s cheeks flush at his own choice of words. Thankfully, the Empress herself appeared to be plenty amused, and she offered Han a brilliant smile that left him somewhat weak in the knees. He could see what Luke meant about her being the dangerous one. There was something so very disarming about this woman and her charm, and he’d met enough charming women to know to be on his guard.

“Truly, I’m charmed, Captain,” she said, voice ringing like a bell as she slipped into formality. “Luke has a gift for befriending the most… fascinating of people.” After offering him another bright smile, she turned to face her son. “Luke, go prepare the guest room, please? If he’s to be staying with us, he’ll need proper accommodations.”

“Oh, that’s really not necessary, Majesty,” Han sputtered, “I got my ship, and – ”

“Nonsense!” The word was light and pleasant, but she somehow infused enough authority into it that he knew there was no point in arguing. “As a friend of my son’s, you are welcome in our home.” 

Han was sure they had servants or droids who could set up the bedroom, and even if they didn’t, he was more than capable of doing it himself. He didn’t see why she was sending the Prince to do it. “Well, alright, if you insist, but Luke doesn’t have to set up for me, I’m happy to get it myself.”

“No, no, you are our guest, and we your hosts.” Her deep eyes glimmered with something dangerous. “My son has brought you here, and it is proper etiquette for him to see to your comfort here. Luke? If you will?”

Luke wore a somewhat confused expression that he turned from his mother to Han, but his hesitation was brief as he bowed slightly and muttered “Yes, Mother,” before he set off towards the parlour door. 

Turning to follow, Han was frozen in place by a sharp tut from the Empress. “Not yet, Captain Solo. Sit. Relax. I’ll have some tea brought, and you and I can get acquainted.”

From the doorway, Luke shot an alarmed glance in their direction and looked, for a second, as though he was about to protest and insist on staying, but his mother’s expression brooked no argument. Pressing his lips together in a thin line and putting as much reassurance into his eyes, Luke gave Han a final nod before disappearing from sight.

Now alone with the Empress, in her domain, the smuggler couldn’t help but feel he’d landed in a krayt’s den and was about to find out just how dangerous this woman could really be.

After gliding towards the lavish armchair and perching on it, she indicated one of the sofas and stared at him with a pleasant yet sharp look. “Sit,” she repeated, and Han’s legs complied, of their own accord. As he did so, a protocol droid filed in and set down a tray carrying a steaming teapot, a bowl of sugar, cream, and four teacups. “How do you take your tea, Captain?”

With a lot of alcohol, he thought.

“Black,” he said, and she poured him a cup. He muttered an awkward thanks as she handed it to him.

When she’d fixed her own cup and taken a sip, she zeroed in on him, expression growing hard. “Now, Captain, I will be blunt.” Her voice was cold in a way it hadn’t been before, bearing an edge to it that caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand at attention. “My son has a heart the size of the galaxy itself, and he’s prone to giving it away far too easily. That isn’t to say I do not trust his choices, nor do I believe him to be a poor judge of character. He has faith in people, believes in their strengths and capabilities and their capacity to do good.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen that part of him,” Han agreed, thinking back to all the down-on-their-luck Mantellians whose lives were just a bit more comfortable now, thanks to Luke.

The Empress nodded gravely. “Then I’m sure you know how easily he places that trust in those who may not deserve it. In the past he has been drawn to… the wrong sorts of people, and it’s gotten him into trouble more than once.”

Those words were pointed, they referred to him, Han knew, and he found himself scowling at the most powerful woman in the galaxy. “I can assure you, Your Majesty,” he ground out, “that I have no intentions of being the wrong sort of person for your son.” That would cost him, he was sure, but he felt the need to defend his – and Luke’s – honour, even if it meant snapping at the kriffin Empress herself.

Raising a single brow, she regarded him with an appraising stare, dark eyes seeming to burrow right into his soul. “See that you aren’t,” she said evenly. “There are precious few things in this galaxy, Captain, that I treasure more than my children and their wellbeing. So long as you are in Luke’s favour, you will be treated well, I assure you, but if you bring him to harm…” The threat lingered in the air for a moment. He got the message.

He maintained her gaze and held his ground. “Look, lady,” he said, far braver than he had any right to be, “I ain’t suicidal, I’m not about to go messing with your family, and I’m definitely not gonna hurt Luke. Don’t think I could handle his face if I did – looks too much like a kicked puppy when he’s just a bit disappointed, can’t imagine it when he’s genuinely hurt. Besides, seems to me he’s got enough pain in his life without me contributing to it. Now, I may not be some high and mighty noble or anything, and what the kid actually sees in me is anybody’s guess, but, dammit, he’s got me carin’ about him, and anyone who can do that is worth protecting, in my books.”

Well, Solo, you had a good run. Always knew that mouth of yours would be the end of you, just never expected to go quite as dramatic as running it in front of the Empress and getting executed. If only Lando could see you now…

Silence echoed deafeningly in the chamber, which now felt far larger than it actually was, ready to swallow him up. The Empress was staring at him, eyebrows raised, gaze flicking over him again. After what felt like an eternity, the barest shade of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Very well, Captain Solo. Perhaps you will do well here, after all.” For the first time she’d spoken to him, her voice carried genuine warmth. 

All of a sudden, he could breathe again, a wave of relief crashing over him as he sank into the sofa and sighed. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I’ll do my best.”

“See that you do.” A pause. “Now!” she chirped, “Luke should be finished with your accommodations by now. I’ll send Threepio to fetch him and my daughter, and we can all get acquainted properly over some tea. Yes, I think that sounds lovely.”

There was no way anyone he knew was going to believe this. He wasn’t sure he even believed it himself. But, sitting here in the Imperial Palace having tea with the Empress and her children, he couldn’t help but wonder just what he’d gotten himself into this time…