#Like everyone was dressed up and dancing it the palace and I think it was for marriage or something | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

oh-look-at-her · 9 months ago

Text

"I can do....terrible things to you."

Pairing: agardian!reader x Loki

Warnings: profanity, PinV, unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it), oral sex(f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, use of pet names (Prince, princess, pet, dearest, etc), Loki is a warning in itself, degradation, mocking, name calling (just once I think), choking (for a little while), just smut in general

Author's note: I just wanted to say this is my first ever written fic so have mercy on me. I just really wanted to use that sentence from the Loki series🤭It was also supposed to be shorter...it did not keep to that. I also wanted to say that with the word "undergarment" I do not mean modern day underwear. I mean undergarment as in from the 1700's (like depicted in the photo underneath this text). Don't ask me why I decided to do that, I don't know. I think I've just been watching too much Outlander these last few days. Alr I'll stop my rambling now. I hope everyone enjoys♡

“Oh dear gods, another ball. How many of these are they going to organize?” Was my first thought when Thor asked me to go as his guest yet again the other day. I thought I wouldn’t be going.

And yet, here i am. Standing in a corner in the main hall of the majestic golden palace that the formerly mentioned prince calls home, with a glass of liquor in one hand and a small snack i grabbed from a faraway table in the other. Though i did want to support Thor in his victories of the week, that was not the true reason i came to another loud party.

“Quite the partygoer lately. Tell me, is it just because you enjoy being around obnoxiously drunk people or are you trying to charm my dear brother?"

And there it is. The infamous Loki Odinson, prince of Asgard, God of mischief and lies, to the irritation of many people. I know I wouldn't mind him getting mischievous at all though....

I eat the little one-bite snack in hopes of it distracting me from my thoughts, but to no avail.

Meanwhile, Loki keeps talking with a grin on his face and a sultry tone to his voice.

"If it is the latter, I suggest you stop, since he seems to have quite the interest in that other woman he's been eyeing all night."

I give him the best cocky look I can muster and answer back; "Thor does not have any interest in me and neither do I in him. He gets to ogle whoever he wishes, I thought you would know this, being his brother. Tell me, where is the sudden interest in your brother's love life coming from, dear prince."

"Oh please, a blind man would know he was shamelessly into her. Besides, how could I not be interested when my brother continuously invites the same woman to his... Celebrations."

He ogles me suspiciously, as if he doesn't believe I wasn't interested in that loveable blonde buffoon. I myself have a different type of God in mind. I opt to try and change his mind.

"Thor and I are friends. Why are you so interested in this?"

He hums dismissively and ogles the ongoing party.

"No interest in dancing?" he changes the subject.

"No, this dress is not a dancing type dress. Too tight and heavy. I should've opted for another, but it's too late now." he looked my dress up and down as I spoke, seemingly uninterested, though his tone of voice said otherwise.

"Well, beauty over functionality, isn't it? Seems as if you've succeeded in that area, at least."

My stomach flips and the corners of my mouth lift up into a faint taunting smile as I look up at him. "You think I look beautiful?"

He looks back at me, a faint trace of surprise tainting his expression. "Well yes, I wouldn't have said what i did if I did not think it. When have I ever been known to lie about my opinions, dearest?"

My mind jumps at the mention of the pet name and the compliment paired with it and although I tried to hide my surprise, the faint smirk on the God's face tells me enough. Nevertheless, I look at him with a playful light in my voice.

"Well, you are the god of lies. I would expect you to live up to this Title, as you do your other titles."

"Ah, and what titles are these, pray tell?" he asks as he looks at me with disdain, as if I offended him.

"Those of you being the god of mischief, as well as a relentless trickster. Though people say you usually can't do much harm." I chuckle at Sif's offensive words towards the prince of Asgard.

He chuckles with me, though I suspect because of something else, because his expression had turned darker, his gaze falling on mine again.

"Well, I assure you that I can do... Terrible things to you and anybody I wish."

He says in a low, dark voice, his unrelenting gaze catching the widening of my eyes and the heaving of my chest at his threatening words. Although his words do anything but scare me.

Is that a promise? I think to myself, my mind running wild with the different context his words could be said in.

He grins at me, still not letting his eyes wander from mine. "Do you want it to be?" he suddenly asks.

"What?" I manage to spurt out, shock and excitement having taken over my mind.

"Do you want it to be a promise?" he repeats his question with that same dark, knowing smile on his face.

Did I say that out loud? I'm certain I didn't.

"No, you didn't." he answers my thoughts once again and fear and embarrasment seep into my bones as I realize how he had known.

"How long have you been reading my mind?" I ask him with a shaky voice. He chuckles again, knowing he has the upper hand now. He drops his gaze to his shoulder gently touching mine. When did that happen?

"While you were inquiring why I was so interested in my brother's 'love life' as you put it."

Oh. My. Gods. He had seen and heard every single thing I had been thinking. How embarrassing. I wanted to dig a hole to Hel and stay there until I had melted into the fires forever.

"That's a bit dramatic." he tells me. I move away from him with a scowl, taking care that we didn't touch anymore so he couldn't read my mind any longer, but he already knew all of it. He had heard all my lewd thoughts about him and he thought it funny.

He still has that annoyingly handsome smirk plastered on his face as he gestures for us to move away from the busy crowd and into the halls that lead to various rooms. I decide to follow him. All the harm that could be done had already been done, so why not? He knew it all now. He is silent as we walk through the halls, muffled music still being heard from the party.

"You know, I would expect you to say something...." I trail off as he stops walking and opens a door we arrived at. He gestures for me to enter the room.

It is a lavishly elegant room, accents of gold layered the cream colored walls, a nightstand with multiple drawers and a bed with silky sheets line the left wall, while the other side of the room is dedicated to a roaring fireplace and two lounge couches in the same shade of green as the silk sheets on the bed. In the middle of the wall I am facing, there is a lavish balcony that had a beautiful view towards Asgard. Loki walks towards the bed and sits down on the golden bench in front of it.

I stay by the door, looking at him expectantly, hoping he would clear up the fact that we just entered (what I presumed is) his room without a word being said. He sighs and finally opens his mouth.

"Yes, you're right. I should say something." he pauses for a moment, looking me up and down, though this time not in a rude manner. No, this time it felt more like... Admiration. The God of Mischief and Lies is looking at me with admiration.

"You're a beautiful woman. I must say, I had my eye on you ever since you entered this castle for the first time. Though I thought my brother had claimed you for his own, due to him always inviting you to these gatherings. When you told me this wasn't the case, I decided to see if you were being truthfull or not. I must admit, it was an invasion of your privacy, but I do not regret it one bit."

He gestures for me to join him and sit next to him. I oblige and walked over to him, opting to stand due to the uncomfortability of my dress. He notices this and looked down with a smile gracing his lips.

"So yes, what I said is true. You are beautiful, though this dress could never do you justice. Plus, you seem incredibly uncomfortable in it."

I scoff at his words. "What, are you going to offer to take it off of me? I've heard that line a thousand times, it is not original. Besides, I very well think this dress makes me look exquisite. Why else would I wear it?"

"I did not say you didn't look beautiful in the dress. I am merely noting that it does not do you justice." he answers cockily

"And what would do me justice then, Prince?" I spit back at him, getting a little annoyed at his degrading tone, making my mind wander to unholy places once more.

His low chuckle echoes in my ears. Gods, that chuckle. It's so... Seductive.

"Won't tell, princess." the pet name surprises me. Sure, I had called him Prince, but he is a genuine Prince. I feigned nonchalance.

"Ah, there it is. Let me guess, you'd have to take off my dress to show me?" his playful expression turns into one of ice, filled with lust and seduction. It was a thrilling sight to see.

"You'd let me." he said, with full confidence, because he knew it was true. I didn't need to answer him as he stands and closes the small distance between us, making me look up because of his obnoxiously tall figure.

The playful twinkle in his eye had been replaced with something dark, possessive almost. My breath hitches in my throat as his hand ghosts up until it reached the dip of my waist, pulling me impossibly closer to him.

And I let him.

His gaze was ice cold as he inspected my entire face and figure again. Gods, I love it when he does that. He dips his head until I feel his breath near my ear.

"I know." he whispers into my ear. This asshole was reading my mind any time he could, but even if i could stop him, I don't think i would. He lifts his head to look at me again, this time a devillish smirk is playing at the corners of his mouth again.

Please kiss me already.

I beg to myself and I know he heard it. He finally dips his head down to my lips, I part them as I desperately await his kiss. He doesn't kiss me yet, though. He chuckles at my sigh of frustration, though it sounds more like a whine than I had intended.

His amused and torturous gaze lands on my desperate one. "What is it, pet?" he whispers against my lips. So close.... He knows exactly what he's doing. Of course he does. I'd waited so long, stayed up so many nights because of the thought of him being this close. Or closer....

My eyebrows furrowed at the thought of these nights and I know he saw. I know he knows exactly what I'm thinking, but I don't care. I want him. And I'll have him.

"Will you, now? Last I checked, I'm the Prince here. You are under my command, are you not?" he outright laughs at my attempt to kiss him, get him closer to me in any way. He moves away from me, opting to move towards one of the lavish Green couches on the other side of the room. He looks at me over his shoulder while he did so, plaguing me, teasing me with the distance he's creating.

I stare at my hands, nervously playing with my fingers whilst trying not to grieve the loss of his touch. His hand on my waist, His chest pressing against mine, his lips so close to mine... I hear him walking around for a bit while I'm still fidgeting with my fingers, not daring to look his way unless asked.

"Don't get shy now, pet. Look at me." I lift my head to see him sitting comfortably on the couch, his fine asgardian leather suddenly having been replaced with a pair of comfortable looking black lounge pants and... No shirt.

He's trying to get under my skin, I know it. But I don't care one bit as I let my gaze travel along the impressive muscle tone of the Prince, trailing from his shoulders to his chest, from his chest to his toned abs, from his abs to that perfect V-shape that's only disrupted by the thin fabric of his pants.

I let my eyes wander further up now, admiring the strong biceps and, Gods, those perfectly veiny arms. And finally those hands...i could stare at them all day, just the sight of them makes me almost want to drool.

He's so perfect. And he knows it as I finally meet his icy gaze and that same goddamn smirk that made my heart freeze and my hands tremble.

He knows it when he gestures for me to walk towards him and close the distance he so painstakingly created just a minute ago.

He knows it when he stands before me, pulling at the strong threads that were holding my dress together, making the first layer of my dress fall to the ground.

He knows it when he carefully unties my corset with gentle patience, unlacing it with his slender fingers and finally taking it off of me.

He knows it when I'm standing before him in my undergarment, looking me up and down, not with just hunger or lust, but with adoration and relief. The sheer fabric does nothing to hide my body, even showing off my nipples that had hardened due to the cold night air.

And gods, does he know it when he guides my arms to lay on his shoulders, peppering tender kisses onto every inch of skin he can find, pulling me closer and finally granting me the kiss I had been longing for ever since I had seen him for the first time.

His lips capture mine so perfectly in a dance of passion, not at all what I had expected from a God of mischief. I had expected something feral, completely driven by lust. Hel, I'm not sure I even expected him to outright kiss me. No, this exceeds all my expectations.

He carefully bites my lower lip, granting him entrance to lick inside my mouth and taste me, deepening the kiss. The feeling of excitement and arousal growing with every passing second.

He grinds himself into me, pulling me closer and closer. I can feel his cock getting hard through the fabric of his pants, making me clench my cunt around nothing. My hands roamed through his hair, not nearly as greasy as I had imagined, instead I am met with soft curls and a pretty sound coming from the Prince's lips as I tug at them.

He's everywhere. His arms around my waist, squeezing it tight and keeping me close to him. He overtowers me by far, and he has to lean down a distance even with me standing on my tiptoes to reach. His scent, his taste, his hands.

Gods, I need him. He breaks the kiss, but not without tugging at my bottom lip another time, a little rougher now, though.

His breath is steady, whereas mine is ragged and uncontrollable as he rests his forehead against mine, his lips still hovering so close to mine.

"I know, I need you too. You've no idea how long I've wanted you." he whispers, again answering my thoughts. I didn't mind this time, though. I want him to hear and see everything I am thinking. I want him to know what I want.

But that doesn't mean I'm not going to play first. He had been so gentle and loving and it feels so good to be worshipped, but that would have to wait for another time.

He lifts his head up to look at me. "What is it?" he asks, curiosity lacing his voice.

I smile at him, hoping it looks as seductive and entrancing as I want it to and take his hand, slowly guiding him towards the bed.

Upon reaching it, I lie down comfortably in the midst of the bed, tugging at him to do the same. He climbs on top of me, again ogling me with curiosity. This surprises me, if he was still reading my mind he would know what I am doing.

"Opting to not read my mind anymore?" I ask, with a smile.

"I thought it'd be more fun if I don't know exactly what you're going to do before you do it." he grins, seeing that this has pleased me. Now I can do what i want.

I tangle my hands in his hair again, watching his face as it contorts into a relaxed expression as I tug a bit at the strands again. I bring his lips to mine again, but this time, I want it to be different. I bite his lip roughly, making him open his mouth in surprise as I lick into him now, tasting berries and a tinge of alcohol on his tongue. I moan into his mouth at the taste and it seems he finally realized what I was trying to do. He kisses me back hungrily, seizing control again, much to my liking. He abruptly pulls away afterwards, much to my dismay.

He looks down at me with a knowing smirk on his face. "What's wrong, princess? Don't want me to be nice anymore? What do you want? Go on, say it. I know you know exactly what it is." he urges me on with a sultry tone to his words.

"Please...i want you to be mean to me."

"Really?" he feigns surprise, "whatever would you mean by that, darling?" he asks, starting to tease me by peppering kisses along my jaw.

"I want-" he shifts his body so he's lying perfectly on top of me. I can feel his cock rubbing against my clothed cunt and it sends a shiver down my spine. "Please just-" his kisses grow hungrier as he guides himself down to my neck. "Could you please be rough..." he bites down on my neck, emitting a gasp from me. I think that was his answer to my plea.

He is indeed rougher now, biting and suckling on the soft skin of my neck, gradually moving down... To my shoulder... To my collarbone... And then. The hem of my undergarment.

He looks at me while twirling his finger around the measly little thread. The only thing that's between him and my bare body. The only thing he'd have to loosen before slipping my last piece of clothing from me and leaving me bare. And that's exactly what he did.

He slowly, teasingly pulls at the thread and folds the fabric to the side, revealing my tits to him. He rips his eyes from mine and finally meets my bare chest, looking at it like a starved man would a plate of hot food.

He started where he left off, just below my collarbone he peppered kisses and bites again. Slow, agonizing, teasing movements until he finally reached my hardened nipple, waiting, aching for him.

He hungrily takes the sensitive bud into his mouth, suckling on it with rough movements, his hand coming up to cup my other boob roughly. I whine at the sensation, his tongue lavishly doing its job in pleasuring me.

After a while, he flashes me a devillish smile before moving onto the other nipple, suckling at the same pace, much to my relief as it is the perfect pace and he knows this.

I squirm underneath him, whining and moaning as he keeps suckling on my nipple, the sensation making me crave for more. I grind against his hard-on and I swear I heard a whimper coming from the Prince's mouth. He stills for a moment, his hands clawing at my hips to stop me from moving.

"Be patient, pet. Let me enjoy you." is all he says before continuing to suck on my tits, keeping me on edge and increasing my arousal a thousand fold while doing so.

His hands explored my body with rough motions. Grabbing my waist, squeezing it, fondling my tit. Finally he reaches my shoulders, his hands slide down the length of my arms and he grabs my hands before pulling his mouth off of my nipple.

He sits up straight and, while never breaking eye contact, brings my right hand up to his mouth and kisses it. A stark contrast to how he was sucking on my tits just a second ago, but not unwelcome. He kisses my wrist now, then my forearm, then my bicep, then my shoulder.

Then he switches his attention to my neck again, bruising and marking me, coaxing soft moans from me. There would be no way to cover up those spots, although I'm not sure I'd want to or if he would let me.

He continues his trail of kisses downwards again, this time dragging my undergarment down with him. He stopped for a moment to look at me again.

"Off." he gestures towards my undergarment. I obey and quickly slip off the feeble piece of fabric, discarding it on the floor next to his bed. Once I face him again, completely bare now, he looks at me with approval.

"Good girl." he whispers under his breath, but I heard. I smile at his words of praise as he looks me up and down hungrily. He leans down and, while maintaining eye contact, licked a stripe up my body from my hips to my chest.

I breathe out a moan at this scandalous action. He flashes me a cunning smile before biting my nipple gently, coaxing a surprised gasp from me. He continues biting and suckling on my skin, moving down... Down... Down. Until he reaches my thighs.

He wraps his hands around my knees and spread them apart as far as they'll go, slowly and teasingly he leans down again. He starts kissing my thigh, occasionally softly biting down to coax an unexpected whimper from me.

He finally inches closer to where I need him the most. He looks at my pussy with hunger in his eyes, licking his lips and looking up at me. He softly blows on it, making me moan from the sensation. I grab ahold of his locks again, hoping to be able to push him down and just make him have me already, but he doesn't let me.

"Impatient now, are we? I can certainly tell with how wet you are. Is this all for me, pet?" he asks me as his hands caress my thighs. I don't know how to answer him, so I just whine and buck my hips towards him, hoping that he gets the message.

He chuckles at my desperate attempts at seeking his tongue. "Please..." I beg, feeling nothing but longing for the god in between my legs in this moment. He sighs before demanding; "please what?"

"Please just take me already, Loki." I answer him in an annoyed tone, but before I can release a huff of annoyance, he licks a stripe from my hole to my clit. I moan languidly at the unexpected move.

"Is this what you wanted?" he asks teasingly.

"Yes, Gods, yes." I sigh, throwing my head back.

He chuckles at my pathetic tone and starts lapping up the arousal that had been gathering all evening. He moans at the taste, reveling in it as he flicks his tongue over my clit.

His movements have me keening and bucking my hips as he fucks his tongue into me. People said he had a cunning tongue to him(although probably not in this context) and they were right. Gods, does he know how to eat a woman out.

His tongue laps at me at just the right pace, fucking in and out of my cunt, softly suckling on my clit. He brought his hand up to cup my tit as he did so, overwhelming my senses and making me grab onto his hair. This coaxed another moan out of him, sending vibrations throughout my body.

I can feel the coil in my stomach beginning to tighten. I'm close and he knows it, because he suddenly changes his original pace to a slower one, making me whine.

"Loki.... Don't be mean." I tell him.

He stops his movements altogether now, looking up at me with a cocky grin. "What's the matter, princess?" he feigns pity.

"You know exactly what, i was close." I huff, sexual frustration coaxing through my whole body.

He laughs at my attitude. "You don't get to decided when you cum, pet. I do. You are under my command now and what I say goes." he answers in a dark, possessive tone of voice.

His words make my stomach flip and my pussy clench around nothing. He's so attractive, I can't help it. He knows it, noting my reaction to his words. He lifts his head from between my thighs and climbs back on top of me, his face right in front of mine. I can't help but admire him, especially from this angle. His hair framing his face, his eyes piercing my own, his lips... In that sadistic smile.

"What? Do you like it when i control you? Do you want to be my toy, hm?" he whispers, looking me right in the eyes, never letting go of my gaze. He catches the widening of my pupils, the quickening pace of my breath, the desperation in my eyes. No, he doesn't need to read my mind to know how i feel.

He leans down, brushing his lips over mine. I try to catch his lips with mine, but he doesn't let me. He's teasing me again. I whine as he laughs at me.

He laughs at me. How dare he, when i want him so bad and I know he wants me too. How dare he, when he knows how desperate I am for his touch. How dare he, when I'm lying naked underneath him and he is denying me what I want.

"What is it? Annoyed? What do you want, princess?" he asked me tauntingly.

I lift up my hand to caress him. I let my hand slide higher up the back of his neck, having my fingers intertwine with his locks and pulling him down by them until my lips are right next to his ear. He lets me.

I lick at his earlobe experimentally and a soft moan comes from the God's lips that I enjoyed a little too much. I took his earlobe in my mouth and sucked on it a few times, making Loki melt on top of me.

I stop only to whisper in his ear; "I want you to fuck me." his entire demeanor changes as he looks me in the eyes. I'm suddenly hyper aware of my naked body and his hard length pushing against my thigh through his pants. The thought of him fucking me with it makes a pleasurable shiver run up my spine.

He flashes me a cunning smile and gets off the bed, leaving me cold and naked. His gaze scans over me while he takes off his lounge pants. My eyes land on his now bare cock, the sight making my mouth water and my pussy clench.

Gods, it looks delicious. I wouldn't mind having a taste of it. It's long yet still girthy and I'm suddenly nervous about the sheer size of it. He looks at me knowingly before finally getting on the bed again and on top of me. He settles in between my legs to admire me again.

"Turn around, pet." he commands. I do as he says and turn around, keeping myself upright with my knees and having my arms stretched out in front of me. He lets his hand travel the flesh of my thighs, the curve of my ass, the dip of my waist.

I can hear the sheets ruffling and I'm about to look behind me to see what he was doing, before I feel his tongue on my cunt again. I moan at the unexpected feeling. He laps at my pussy for a bit, drinking my arousal like it's his favorite beverage. He lets go of my waist and I feel his finger spreading my lips apart.

"So wet all for me. Look at that, pet. You're throbbing." fuck, and I can feel it as he uses his finger to spread my arousal through my pussy lips. The friction has me bucking my hips when i suddenly feel his finger probing at my entrance.

He pushes his slender finger inside of me, making me moan out his name. He curls his finger, making it hit that spongy spot inside of me. Gods, he's making me go feral. He pulls out his finger now, but before I can whine at the loss, he enters two fingers inside me.

He pumps his fingers in and out for a bit, but then switches to scissoring them inside my cunt, making me almost squeal in pleasure. He begins to lick at my clit again. The feeling of him sucking at the sensitive bud and scissoring his finger inside of me has me keening and the coil in my stomach quickly tightening.

My pussy clamps down on his fingers and he knows I'm about to cum. He suddenly stops all his movements, keeping his fingers inside my cunt, making me whine and mewl at my failed orgasm.

"Stop your whining. Didn't I tell you? I decide when you cum and I won't let you cum unless it's on my cock, do you understand?" I whine at his words, my mind being too far gone to string together coherent sentences to answer him.

"So pathetic for me. Look at you, lying there with your ass up just for me. And you like it, don't you?" I whine in response. "Of course you do, you're mine now. I'll do anything I want to you and you'll let me." he proves his point by spreading apart my ass cheeks and licking a stripe from my clit to my ass. I moan at the sensation.

"Do you want me to fuck you? Hm? Do you want me to make you mine?" he splays his hand down on my scalp, scratching it with his fingernails before tightly grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling me up against his chest.

"Yes! Yes, please, make me yours. Please, Loki." I beg pathetically, but I don't care. I want him to fuck me already and I'll say anything to make it so.

He harshly throws me down on the bed again, shoving my face into the pillow in the process. I yelp at the unexpected action. Loki's hand travels now from out of my hair, over my back, my waist, to my ass. His other hand pumps up and down his dick slowly.

He starts to tease me with the tip of his cock, guiding it through my folds and spreading my arousal and his precum. I moan at the feeling, bucking my hips because why is he not railing me yet?

He stops his movements, his cock stilling right where my entrance is. I'm about to ask him why he stopped when i feel the tip of his dick entering me. I let out a near pornographic moan. Fuck, is he gooood.

The stretch feels so good after all his teasing, but he's not pushing any more of his cock in. Instead, leaving just the tip and staying where he is. I whine when i realize this and he knows exactly why.

"What is it? You want more, pet? Don't be greedy, take what I give you." he says, with a degrading tone to his voice that makes my cunt squeeze down on him. He cursed at this notion, but stayed as he is. I try to buck my hips to get more of him, but his strong hands are keeping me in place.

"Please, come on, I've been good. Pleaseeee." I beg him. "Please, Loki, i-" before I can finish my sentence he thrusts his whole length into me in one swift movement, making me choke on a sob from the pain and pleasure.

He doesn't still to let me adjust. Instead, he sets a rough pace. Fucking in and out of me fast and deep. So fucking deep, I can feel him in my stomach. I'm sure that if I had the physical strength to reach, I would be able to feel a bulge in my stomach from his cock.

My curses are high pitched and incoherent as the snap of his hips continues. "That what you wanted? Did you want to be fucked like this, hm?" I sob at his words, too overwhelmed to say anything.

"Is it too much, pet? But you were just begging me to take you, begging me to make you mine."

"T-too much-" I manage to stutter out in between his thrusts.

"Shut up, you can take it." he says in a mean tone of voice that send a shiver down my spine. "You asked for it. This is what greedy whores get." my pussy squeezes him like a vice at the degrading name he called me. Fuck, did that turn me on.

"Oh, you like being called that, hm? You like being treated like a dumb bitch." he says, grabbing a handful of my hair again and lifting up my head. "Don't you?" he asks me, emphasizing his words with a deep thrust. I answer with a guttural moan. He seems content with that answer, though. A sadistic smile claiming his lips.

"Turn over." he says all of a sudden, pulling his cock out of me and I whine at the empty feeling before obeying his order and lying down on my back now.

He leans down again and catches my lips in an aggressive kiss. He licks at my bottom lip, into my mouth. He thrusts back inside of me fully, catching me off guard. He swallows the moan it coaxes out of me and starts thrusting at the same unforgiving pace.

I close my eyes, too far gone to keep them open from the pleasure. His hand snaked towards my neck and chokes me, making my eyes shoot wide open and my hand clamp on to his.

"There we go." he says with a smile. "Keep your eyes on me, pet." so I do. I try with all my might to keep my eyes on him. Gods, the choking isn't helping. My senses are all overwhelmed, completely focused on the feeling of his cock spearing into me.

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

I hear him curse under his breath when i feel the coil in my stomach tightening for the third time this evening, making my pussy clamp down on him again.

"Fuck, so tight for me. You feel so good." he brings his free hand to my clit, rubbing calculated circles onto the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"I wanna cum inside you. Let me?" it sounds more like a demand than a question, but I shakily nod my head anyway.

The coil in my stomach gets tighter by the second. The snapping of his hips, the squeezing of his hand on my throat, the circling of his thumb on my clit. All of it.

Tightening... Tightening....

"Cum for me, princess." he tells me.

The coil snaps and the best orgasm of my life rips through my body. My pussy clamps down on him like a vice, my eyes roll to the back of my head, my jaw falls slack. He fucks me through my high and I can hear him cursing at how tight I am.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum inside you." he curses, his pace growing sloppy as he's nearing his high. He keeps fucking up into me, making me cry out from overstimulation.

A string of curse words falls from his lips as I feel his hot cum painting my walls. He rides out his high, letting his body relax on top of me. He embraces me gently, a stark contrast to how he was fucking me just a second ago. His hips cease their rocking motion.

We lie there for a bit like that; Him carefully holding me, his cock growing soft inside of me. Our sweaty bodies unwinding and relaxing against each other. I come to after a bit, finally snapping out of my brainless daze.

"So you really thought that I was fucking your brother?" I ask him.

"Yes, I did." he sighs. I chuckle at his tired response.

"So what was your first thought when you read my mind and figured out I most certainly was not?"

"Surprise at the disgusting thoughts that courses through your head about me, mainly." he says tauntingly. "But also relief."

"Awhh how sweet." I coax.

"You know, I was right." he says in a cocky tone.

"About what?"

"That dress doesn't do you justice and I was exactly right about what does." he answers. I chuckle at his words.

"You know what I was also right about?"

"No, what's that, Prince?" I ask teasingly.

"You let me show you exactly what did do you justice, princess."

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cera-writes · 7 months ago

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Hello! You’re friendly neighbourhood request stalker here, just having another little moment of self inserted love.

Gambit strikes me as someone who would be an absolute nerd. I see him as a secret Star Wars fan or Trekkie. Reader is a mutant who lives in the mansion - maybe a teacher rather than an X-Man? Halloween rolls around, big mansion party and of course reader is big into costumes and cosplay.

Everyone has to dress up and no-one tells anyone about their costume until the big reveal at the party.

She does the Leia. /That/ Princess Leia. And he just spends the whole night with an uncomfortable nerd boner, torn between talking excitedly about the movies and just being his usual flirty lusty self? Maybe even a flustered fanboy? NSFW or SFW, I’ll leave that to you.

I’m gonna go sit in the corner and squee to myself.

A/N: yes yes yes!! I was listening to this song while writing this and I wanna imagine it playing it in the background of the party... 🤣 Pairing: Remy "Gambit" LeBeau x F!Reader Tags: fluff, sweet sexy fluff, making out, sexual innuendos, teasing, flirting, reader gives Remy a constant boner

"Then show me, Scoundrel."

The X-Mansion buzzed with an energy that rivalled Danger Room training. Tonight wasn't about honing mutant abilities, it was about unleashing inner demons – the good kind, fueled by fruity cocktails and booming music. Professor Xavier had thrown a rare costume party, and the place was a kaleidoscope of capes, masks, and questionable fashion choices.

You, however, were channelling a very specific kind of fantasy. Standing by the punch bowl, you were the epitome of Rebel Princess badassery. You'd raided Storm's wardrobe for a flowing white drape, leaving enough strategically placed gaps to make even the stoic Ororo blush. The pièce de résistance, though, was a leather belt Professor X had unearthed from a forgotten box of "mutant memorabilia." It did wonders for accentuating your curves. You'd even fashioned your hair into a pair of space buns, completing the look.

You were scanning the room, feeling a thrill at the envious stares from Rogue and the appreciative nods from Beast, when a familiar drawl sliced through the music.

"Well, well, well. Looks like someone wandered straight outta Jabba's Palace."

Remy Lebeau, ever the charmer, stood before you, his trademark grin plastered across his face. He was a dead ringer for Indiana Jones, complete with a Traveller hat and a leather jacket that wouldn't look out of place on one of the members of his former Thief Guild.

"Just call me Princess," you countered, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. Up close, his eyes sparkled with an amusement that sent a shiver down your spine. Remy was, in fact, all hot and bothered at the mere sight of you. He was fangirling so hard, flustered by the sight of you wearing that costume.

"Princess, huh? Think you can handle a scoundrel like me?" His voice was a low rumble, sending another delicious jolt through you.

You leaned in, close enough for him to feel the warmth of your breath on his ear. "Try me, Gambit."

The way his name rolled off your tongue, laced with a deliberate challenge, had a visible effect on him. A flicker of heat replaced the amusement in his eyes.

"Careful, cher," he murmured, his voice husky. "You might jus' get more than you bargained for."

The music shifted to a slow, seductive melody. Remy held out a hand, the invitation clear. A mischievous grin spread across your face as you bit your bottom lip. "Take the lead, scoundrel."

He took your hand, the touch sending a spark igniting between you. As you glided onto the makeshift dance floor, you couldn't help but brush your hand against his chest, the worn leather cool against your skin. He inhaled sharply, the movement pulling the fabric of his jacket taut across his impressive physique.

You danced with him, slow and close, the playful banter escalating with each stolen glance, each lingering touch. He twirled you, the white drape billowing around you like a cloud, and for a moment, you could almost believe you were dancing with Han Solo under a Tatooine sunset.

When the song ended, Remy leaned in, his breath warm against your cheek. "Let's get outta here, Princess. I know a place with a much better view of the stars."

A shiver snaked down your spine at his suggestion, a delicious mix of excitement and apprehension. The night air was cool, a stark contrast to the heat building between you. Remy's hand slipped around your waist, his touch sending a jolt through you that had nothing to do with his mutant power.

He led you away from the mansion, the party lights fading behind you like dying stars. The silence was thick with unspoken desire, broken only by the soft crunch of gravel beneath your feet. He stopped suddenly, pulling you against a large oak tree, the moonlight filtering through the leaves casting an ethereal glow on his face.

His eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were now smoldering with a different kind of intensity. A single gloved finger grazed your cheek, sending shivers down your exposed skin. "You know, cher," he murmured, his voice a low caress, "this princess needs a little less…" he trailed off, his hand gliding down your arm, lingering on the exposed sliver of skin above your elbow. His eyes followed the traces of his fingers dancing along your skin, causing goosebumps to form as you bit back a whimper.

Your breath hitched as he slowly unfastened the clasp on the leather belt Professor X had unearthed. It felt symbolic, a shedding of inhibitions, a slow reveal that mirrored the growing tension between you. The white fabric parted further, revealing a hint of smooth skin and the enticing curve of your hip.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing your ear. "And a scoundrel," he whispered, his voice husky with desire, "needs a little more…" his breath tickled your earlobe as he trailed a finger down the exposed skin of your back, sending a jolt straight to your core. He had you practically squirming.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "Then show me, scoundrel," you breathed, your voice laced with lust and a newfound confidence. The playful banter had morphed into something far more primal, a delicious urgency hanging in the air.

Remy chuckled, a low rumble in his chest that vibrated through you. He captured your lips in a kiss, a slow burn that quickly escalated into a heated exploration. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine as he explored the exposed skin of your arms and back. You responded in kind, your fingers tracing the contours of his chest, relishing the feeling of his worn leather jacket beneath your fingertips. He hitched one of your legs up, pinning you against the tree and him.

The kiss became a desperate battle for dominance, a delicious push and pull that left you breathless. He finally pulled away, his eyes half lidded, a red glow in the moonlight.

The crimson glow in his eyes sent a tremor straight down to your core, a primal counterpoint to the heat that had already taken root in your belly. His touch, a slow, deliberate graze against your exposed skin, was pure, unadulterated fire. The playful princess facade had melted away, replaced by a woman yearning for something raw, something untamed.

"Patience, cher," he murmured against your lips, his voice a husky rasp as he thumbed your bottom lip. The restraint in his tone was a delicious torture, a dam holding back a flood of desire. He trailed a finger down the exposed skin of your neck, sending goosebumps erupting in their wake.

"This night isn't over yet. We can take it slow under the disco ball, or..." He paused, his eyes flickering with a devilish glint, "we can rewrite this lil' fairytale of ours under the moonlight, with a little less fabric and a lot more…" He didn't need to finish the sentence.

The suggestive leer in his eyes spoke volumes.

A/N: Lemme know if ya'll want a part two to this! I really enjoyed writing this one! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

#gambit #gambit x reader #xmen #x men 97 #remy lebeau #remy lebeau x reader

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moonywritez6 · 11 months ago

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Knight Rengoku x Princess Reader

A/N: Have some Knight Rengoku head canons! I wanted to try something new! I hope everyone likes it!

Warnings: Slightly spicy towards the end!

Wc: 2,048

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Knight Rengoku! who was assigned to you from a young age his family being one that has served the royal family for generations. The first thing you ever recall noticing about him was the unique look of his eyes that seemed to stare up at you admiringly as he gently placed a kiss on the back of your hand. "It is an honor to serve you, my princess!"

Knight Rengoku! who is always keeping a bright smile on his face as he happily greets you whenever your paths cross or the days begin. His loud and joyful voice echoes throughout the palace grounds as he makes sure to kneel before you each morning for his daily greeting. "Good morning my princess! I hope you have slept well! I, your loyal knight Rengoku am happy to serve you on this beautiful day!"

Knight Rengoku! Who makes sure he is always accompanying you whenever you leave the palace walls even if it's just out in the royal garden. His reasonings are sometimes ridiculous. "My princess I must accompany you here in the garden! Who knows when a dragon could come flying from the sky and snatch you away to his lair!" You rolled your eyes as you examined some of the garden's flowers happy to see they were blooming well as you glanced up at your knight whose smile remained permanently plastered across his face. "Sir Rengoku there's no such thing as dragons! Honestly how old are you?" He just laughs scratching the back of his head knowing his excuse was a lame one.

Knight Rengoku! who finds himself overcome with joy when you ask him to escort you to one of the royal balls being held in a few days. He makes sure to brush up on his social skills along with the proper ball etiquette as he does not wish to mistakenly embarrass his princess in front of those who will be quick to judge her.

Knight Rengoku! who happily holds an arm out to you a giant smile on his face. "Shall we, my princess?!" He laughs as you shake your head but smile nonetheless at his energy. Once your arms are interlocked Rengoku feels his chest expand as his heartbeat against his ribcage your touch could bring him to his knees if it wasn't for all the nobles surrounding the area.

Knight Rengoku! who watches from afar as a few noblemen try their best to win your favor. Rengoku feels his jaw clench, teeth quietly grinding together as he feels a tight knot form in his stomach. He watches as you dance across the ballroom your dress flowing perfectly with each movement you take. 'Breathtaking' He would think to himself as his eyes never left your form making sure he engraved each sway of your body into his mind.

Knight Rengoku! who one day catches you staring at him from across the training grounds the sun blazing hot as he tries to wipe some sweat away from his chin. He looks at you with a bright smile as he waves a hand high in the air. You blush at having been caught as you try to hide your flushed face behind your fan while averting your eyes. Rengoku notices this action finding it adorable as a small hue of pink dusts his cheeks before he makes his way towards you. "My princess! Good evening! What brings you hear if I may ask?" He cheers leaning over your seated form his entire torso exposed.

Knight Rengoku! who's muscles flex sweat dripping down every part of his exposed torso causing your mind to wander into sinful scenarios. "I-I just happened to be walking by is all! Please continue with your training Sir Rengoku!" Your stuttering response gets a small chuckle from the knight as he carefully catches a strand of your hair slowly dragging his fingers down to place a delicate kiss on the end his eyes locking with yours causing you to freeze as your body felt like it was being cornered by the smiling man in front of you. "I see…please feel free to continue watching if you would like my princess." His voice is different this time though you fail to catch it due to your panicked mind.

Knight Rengoku! who hears talk amongst the servants of a marriage proposition for the princess causing his heart to sink as he quickly makes his way towards your quarters. He awaits outside your doors tapping his foot nervously while waiting for the doors to open. When he is allowed inside, he is quick to spot your delicate form sitting gracefully in front of your mirror as you calmly get ready for the night. "What brings you to my chambers so late at night sir Rengoku? Has something happened?" You question, voice filled with concern. Rengoku stares at your reflection from the mirror his eyes locking with yours causing your body to visibly stiffen when you see the look they hold.

Knight Rengoku! who feels his breath hitch when you demand for your staff to leave you two in the room. You turn to him giving the knight your full attention his eyes shamelessly fall to your chest where your nightgown reveals your cleavage causing him to swallow the heavy lump in his throat as he carefully fixes his posture. "Is it true my princess? Has someone made you a marriage proposition?" His question catches you by surprise as you straighten your posture giving a small nod of your head. "Yes, he appears to be a kind gentleman! Though he is quite a bit older…" A sigh leaves your glossy lips as your knight watches you shake your head in dismay.

Knight Rengoku! who finds himself walking towards his sweet princess his heart clenching when he gets close enough to notice the crease in your brows along with the small dark circles starting to form under your eyes indicating the lack of sleep you have been receiving. "My princess…have you not been resting well these days?" He whispers in such a gentle tone as he carefully places a hand on your cheek his thumb lightly caressing the spot under your eye. You hum leaning into his touch a small smile on your face as you look up at him with those kind eyes, he loved staring into each day.

Knight Rengoku! who bites his tongue when he hears his princess whisper about how warm he always was and how much you loved it. "I wonder…will I feel such warmth again when I am married?" The thought slips out unintendedly, but Rengoku hears it his grip on your face tightening as he brings the other up to gently lift your chin. "My princess…does the warmth from my body truly bring you this much comfort?" He whispers slowly inching closer to his princess's face, warm breath slightly hitting your precious skin. The two are locked in time as they both stare into each other's eyes silence filling the room.

Knight Rengoku! who apologizes for his next move as he finds himself locked in a passionate and fiery kiss with his princess. The woman whose side he has always stuck by no matter what anyone would say about the royal family. You were different no matter what anyone said he would defend you with his last breath. Pulling away from the kiss when he notices his princess starting to get fidgety, pressing his forehead against hers with a heavy sigh. "Forgive me, my princess…I have taken advantage of you." He whispers with a small pant his eyes showing you that he wanted much more than just a kiss.

Knight Rengoku! who is in complete shock when you pull him in for another kiss this time more needy and aggressive. Your knight hums into the kiss as he pulls you closer to his body arms wrapping around your smaller frame protectively as one hand finds itself entangled in your hair gripping any strands he could. You felt his body heating up even more with each sloppy kiss. "Princess…m-my princess this is wrong!" He curses distancing himself slightly from the two of you panting cheeks dusted red and bodies warm from lust and desire.

Knight Rengoku! who is pushed back onto the floor looking up at you with surprise as you straddle his torso glaring down at him with small tears in your eyes. "It's not fair…why can't it be you I marry?" Your words caused the knight's eyes to widen his chest tightening as he watched his sweet and caring princess cry on top of him. Your tears drip onto his face but your knight says nothing as he finds himself carefully rubbing circles on your hips with his rough and calloused thumbs. "Shhh. Do not cry my princess…it pains me to see you so sad." He whispers truthfully as that smile you loved so much appears once again on his handsome face.

Knight Rengoku! who carefully lifts you into his arms as he carries you towards the bed gently laying you down his eyes scanning over your entire figure wishing to keep you by his side for the rest of time. "I shall take my leave now my princess." He whispers with a small bow before turning to leave. You lay there in silence before whispering the few words he never wanted to hear leave your lips. "I'm sorry for burdening you for all these years sir Rengoku…I hope that once I am married and gone you can find true happiness in such a cruel world." He knows you do not hold any ill intentions with those words, that you had always felt like such a burden to those who serve you their lovely princess who has never asked for a single thing in life from the day he met you.

Knight Rengoku! who finds himself having you caged under him his hands on either side of your frame. "Don't say that…don't you ever say that my princess." He scolds quietly the expression on his face one of anger and pain. Rengoku hated that you felt like you were a burden especially that fact you thought you were a burden to him. "You have never once burdened me princess…from the moment I laid eyes on you I knew you were my one true princess. I will happily serve you until the day I die no matter where you go, I will follow." His confession leaves you silent however he notices the tears falling from your face.

Knight Rengoku! who kisses you passionately his hands cupping your face as he whispers sweet praises in between. "My princess…you taste so good." He whispers as he finds himself trailing kisses down your neck the small whimpers that fall from your lips sending a wave of lust to overcome him as he nibbles on your sensitive flesh. "Ah…I suppose I shouldn't leave marks can't have any more rumors spreading about my sweet princess~" He teases letting out a small chuckle when he sees a pout on your adorable face.

Knight Rengoku! who finds himself aggressively feeling up and down your body his hands yearning to touch every piece of his beloved princess as his tongue invades your mouth. "S-sir Rengoku please slow down!" You cry out softly having not ever been touched by a man before. His movements slow down as he pulls away from you a deep red dusting his cheeks as his eyes fill with love and desire. "Forgive me, my princess…I forgot you are still pure and must be savored properly." He apologizes as he pulls away from your form.

Knight Rengoku! who promises to slowly teach his lovely princess how to properly make love before excusing himself from her quarters with one last kiss. He nods to his fellow guards as he makes his way to the training grounds needing to blow off some steam, he keeps recalling how delicious his princess looked as he lightly presses a thumb across his lips a bright smile on his face. "Don't worry my princess…I'll do anything you ask of me till the end of time." He whispers before pulling his sword free ready to train his body throughout the night. His princess fills his thoughts even as he dreams later into the night.

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ms0milk · 2 months ago

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𝟏𝟕 | 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐥𝐥 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 & 𝐭𝐰𝐨.)

ー✧ prince!bakugou x royal guard!reader

"He does not grab you by the collar or threaten you with his teeth and when you grasp his hand to steady yourself from an awkward step, he is the boy who makes magic for you in the dark."

slight cw panic sequence. (I) reader agonizes after yesterday's kiss and of course the ball is today. blue mages haunt you, red wing captains stalk you, the wrong prince finds your hiding place (II) bkg will not let you embarrass yourself alone. ballgowns, blue fire, champagne, pearls, a song from home, relief and peruro. dance my love, or die. 7.7k

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Captain Hawks has one job and you’ve made it so much more difficult than necessary. He’s had one job for fifteen years. Red feathers brick out southern wind from the hiding place he’s made above your window and he glares through gusts and goggles to watch you finally return to Prince Touya’s room. You crumple in a pile at the foot of the bed when the door clicks closed. You’re rotting. Sulking. The Alderan dragon everyone’s so worried about, you who his king assigned him to watch– you, the girl with wet eyes and hair full of hay.

You kissed your prince last night. He knows the feeling.

Hawks takes a sip of coffee and grips the barrel of his mug to keep ocean wind from throwing it off the roof. The king is right to worry about you. You have spent one week wandering palace grounds, greenhouses, pantries, walkways and stables and never once guarding your prince. Weird bird, are you the chicken or the egg? Did you stop guarding Katsuki because you’re the spy Enji thinks or because not even the red wing captain could follow you undetected? Because you know better than to keep close to your charge when something is stalking? Hawks winces in a particularly strong breeze. It’s the latter.

Two eyes burn suddenly from your gloom to the parapet fifty meters outside your window where the captain spills his coffee in a rush to stay out of sight. What he wouldn’t give to be warming a bed back in town but instead Hawks rolls his eyes, flat on his wings behind a gable wall. You rise and jerk your curtains closed, glare like black fire.

Princess Fuyumi runs clear through a ten foot portrait propped up in the hallway to be dusted. She’s cold, she’s sick of sending maids to find you and the ball is today. Master Aizawa is securing perimeters somewhere too far away to be helpful, Uraraka’s finalizing guest lists, and Bakugou is getting stitches because he’s good for nothing else. The princess shakes paint flecks from her hair. She rips canvas from her belt and throws the standing frame to the ground.

Kirishima has never dressed for a ball like this before because parties in Aldera usually require armor. What do you do at a Ball if not wrestle? Do Takobans dance Peruro? Sero and Kaminari assure him he doesn’t look silly in white. Todoroki sits outside beside the sea. Deku holds his hand tight to keep him from jumping in.

In the king’s rear guard, Shinsou nurses a broken finger. Enji derives gross entertainment from screaming at soldiers all dressed in blue and it smells like the king came home for this party. The queen cannot be found. Few people think to look for you. No one minds blue fire.

An already tedious afternoon dissolved when a boy crossed your path on turret stairs, your hiding place from prying eyes. You didn’t have the heart to bark when he stumbled through Excuse mes and My Ladys. The quiet wasn’t helping. You could trust Bakugou with his champion for a day but your prince’s hands still danced on your skin the longer you let thoughts linger.

The little footman continued, melting, as you raised your head from between your knees. He carried a box under his arm and waited for your permission to move in the tight stairwell, “From Princess Fuyumi.”

Inside the box under the arm of the boy on the spire stairs was a dress.

You spent last night between pickle barrels in the distillery and hid in the morning where you knew your prince wouldn’t think to find you, curled in the deepest sconce of the north wing watching staff fly past. Today is the ball. It’s why the princess ordered you a dress and it’s why you’re pulling gold lace through your fingers by candlelight. Aizawa’s training pit echos pretty like the sea when it’s empty and the uniform room has a mirror. It’s a dark little annex off the main ring without those Takoban windows Captain Hawks loves so much.

All week, you growl through the effort of fastening garters to a stocking. Another. All week he has followed you and all week you kept his attention off your prince. If Bakugou had just stayed away, if he’d just hated you properly. You lean back to inspect neatly laced boots– Alderan dancing knots– boots so delicate they couldn’t be made for actual dancing. What will he wear tonight? You force a hand through wild braids.

Soldiers can fight armed or barefisted, fire cannons and crossbows, deliver first aid, hunt, guard, salute. You would be the head of your kingdom’s army and so you must know one thousand more important things, like how to string a corset and when to use forks in a line on pretty tables. Silk the color of blood gathers all the heat of your chest and keeps it close. Does the heir of Aldera waltz Takoban? You take the buttons at the ends of your sleeves in your teeth to fasten them closed. What will he look like in their blue costumes dancing with their pretty ladies? Can you remember how to count rhythm in threes? Can you even look at him?

More important than a soldier, court mages, even more important than a champion, you are trained as Head of Royal Guards. You are poison tester, navigator, weaponmaster and seaman, you judge the safety of the room by the shoes of its hosts and you wear fine clothes at fine parties to accompany your masters like a trophy. A prized hunting dog. You will be beautiful for one night and you can no longer avoid your job; assassins love to hide at parties.

“Steady,” you whisper to the gods.

It’s been a few years but you know how to wear these clothes and you know how best to move, and you wince when the sheath of a dagger chills the skin under your ribcage where it hides. You sparkle unsettlingly in the gown and grunt through the effort of untucking stubborn skirts from hilts and scabbards. Wielding a candle to examine yourself more closely in the mirror, you judge the shapes impractical clothes make when they’re meant to fit only you. Pleats of red fall over themselves from your waist to your ankles and in your reflection a bit of fire stirs, because in a cold kingdom this gift was made of love.

You are blood red tonight from neck to heel. Gold tassels align themselves like military badges across your shoulders and the sleeves of the gown bleed to lace at your wrist where two green buttons wink. You can’t help staring. Jeanist’s dragontooth gleams on your breast.

This is an overstuffed week. Hedonistic, anxious like a blood clot heart attack. You are stalked, you are tested and attacked, you’ve pretended not to feel, you did half your best, you snacked instead of training and sat in pleasant company you love, why wouldn’t a ball punctuate this disaster? Something about preparing for war in the dark makes this bearable. Something about fastening a knife to your thigh keeps you from thinking about Bakugou Katsuki and the formalities waiting for you upstairs. Someone is watching you.

A man clears his throat outside the doorway, careful not to stand where you might see him but you are too focused to be caught by surprise. “What do you want?”

“Apologies, Captain.”

At that, air falls loose from your nostrils. Your lips don’t dare part to make a sound. Your self-important posture doesn’t have time to settle before red pleats freeze and the candle cracks like a knuckle in your palm because the horror of this hadn’t occurred to you. That voice will never leave.

“Y/n?” the flame mage murmurs again.

Why would Aldera want you back? Playing princess instead of posting sentinel. Knowing you’re spied upon and letting Bakugou find you, day after day, letting him help you house spiders, letting him spar, letting him smile, letting him sit beside you– you knew what was watching you– something worse than flying captains. It’s why this horrible place remains horrible and the cold like frost can never be shaken off the back of your neck. It’s why the queen hides in stables and why your blood runs black in the instant you understand yourself through your reflection.

Your two shoulders fly through the doorway first so that when the blue mage attacks your legs will be spared enough to carry you upstairs. You can outrun him, you can outrun anyone. You should have paid more attention to ball preparations this month instead of languishing in your prince’s backwards attention. You should have killed yourself to kill him before his body hit the water. Why wouldn’t an assassin slip through the cracks of your distraction? And why wouldn’t it be him? Unkillable.

The candles inside the changing room are doused and shattered so that you are the only possible flammable thing in this dusty arena and you pull the knife from your hip as you soar over the threshold.

It would have flown hard when you released it– might have even killed a ghost– if you hadn’t seized up as the figure came into view. White hair, tall with sunken eyes, only slightly shorter than his father. You right yourself to land on your new dancing boots, and their heels wail two lines through the sand at the edge of the arena.

Prince Natsuo doesn’t have the energy to be surprised by you. He is not fazed by your drawn weapon and doesn’t flinch in the dark, but he remembers your name, “Captain Y/n?”

Like a cat your eyes go wide and your knife clatters to the floor. Half-fresh braids fall over your shoulders in a deep and rigid bow. Your fists bunch the soft material at your hips and you consider dropping to your knees in the silence and dust of the sparring pit so far away from any party he should be attending. Your heart beats to a new fear, “Highness,” you stammer to the ground, “I–”

“Do you dance, Captain?”

You do, and you quirk an eyebrow at the floor. It’s becoming increasingly clear, for how threatening this country is, that its eldest princess actually took all the reason at birth. Swallowed it from the room with her first cry and left kings and countrymen to stumble on their words, for even when you are not threatening him at knifepoint there’s a dread just behind the prince’s every word. Your Alderan senses are dulling in this kingdom. Your ghost never sounded so nervous. “I’m sorry, sir,” you lift only your head from the stiff bow, “I don’t understand.”��

Prince Natsuo’s suit is blue trimmed silver. He is white trousers and shining bells, military honors, rope tassels, broad like his father, beautiful like his mother and dressed like a blue glass bottle. He’s never spoken to you and seems to have trouble even looking at you now, like a rabbit the dog runs past in a hunt.

You soften, “May I escort you to the party, sir? You’ve made a wrong turn,” rising fully as the prince gathers his thoughts and keeps well away from you– no. Less away from you and more just to himself. Like pouring a cup just full enough to tease the tension at the rim, Prince Natsuo is bursting with nothing to say.

All week you hid from spies and all week Alderans made it their job to find you, to be near you. Today you hide from just one man and suddenly every person in the cold kingdom knows exactly where you are. Winged captains weather the winds to watch you and squire boys can retrieve you from tall towers. Maids predict which hidden paths you’ll take from the kitchens to ask if you’ll need a bath– intercepting you without issue or sweat. Are you that predictable? Unsubtle? Obvious and lacking, or does horrible Takoba deserve a little more credit? Her skittish prince can track you down to the darkest corner of his castle like it's only natural to hide from festivities instead of attending them.

“Please excuse my being started.”

“It’s your job,” he musters just as you scoop up your blade and tip it back into its sheath amongst skirt folds. “Thank you– for your job.” He’s fidgeting, not murderous, and his voice no longer sounds like a monster. The prince scratches gently at a bauble on his chest as you peer through the dark, “I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry, Bakugou’s heartbroken voice parrots. Don’t cry. He pleads with his hands on your cheeks. You can’t change what you’ve done. Bakugou Katsuki can haunt you til death, but you don’t get to hide from him.

“Your Royal Highness, it would be my pleasure to escort you upstairs.” You square yourself to the blue bottle prince, “Humble Y/n, apprentice to the Captain of Her Alderan Majesty’s Royal Guard. My apologies. You had to come all this way just for a proper introduction.” And extend your hand to him, a polite smile on your lips. To death then. You’ve survived worse than a party.

Natsuo does not take your hand. He pops something off of his chest, drops the something in your hand and straightens his suit jacket, content with or oblivious to the fact that his sister inherited all his good social reason. You eye him first and then study the metal on your palm that glints in dim moonlight– candlelight– and tense as the room’s circle of sconces suddenly blink to life one by one.

Of the fifty candles in the training room ring, the first five from the entrance miraculously catch bright warm fire. Six, then the seventh, one by one around the edge of the room. Natsuo rushes to pat out your panic, “Magic candles.”

“Magic candles,” you repeat, which makes much more sense than a drowned magician. You exist at the edge of complete catastrophe, always prepared to fight that man who was too bored to kill you, but magic candles make sense. When have you ever seen a servant in this cold place spend their time lighting candles?

“And a medal,” Natsuo continues. You follow his line of sight to the object in your hand. It’s silver. It fits right in the cleft of your palm. The inscription around the edge is in a language you don’t know but what is clearly the moon sits in the center. A comet streaks across it and together they make the emblem of the House of Todoroki. “The medal of honor.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“It’s yours.”

“It certainly is not,” you say, the air sort of floating from you instead of being pushed out by your voice. Eleven, twelve candles, a quarter of the room is lit. The badge warms in your fingers but you no longer look at it and extend your hand back to the prince in a gown that already makes you too ridiculous to breathe. He shakes his head and you push your open palm a little farther like a plea.

“I’ve seen you. I heard about…my father’s arrival in your training exercise and I, I didn’t, I don’t think my sister’s champions would have been fast enough to stop him if you hadn’t. You kept my mother from the mad magician and I doubt anyone has thanked you and I, I just– my father wouldn’t allow honors on your gown and mine is more than I deserve.” He straightens his jacket again and continues to struggle with eye contact. Twenty-two, twenty-four, twenty-seven candles come alive in the cold arena and the ring of light reaches the pair of you at the far end. “It’s much less than you’re owed.”

Prince Natsuo bows to you deeply and turns so quickly that arena-sand clouds his feet. He does not accept your escort and he doesn’t turn around. He only strides across the room, thirty-three candles, and out the dark but open doors. It’s easy to imagine him judging his own performance just where you can’t see him; he exudes the nervous energy of someone who cringes when they turn your back to you. You’re smiling before you realize. Fourty.

It’s slightly warmer than you’ve felt all month, in clinging red skirts and candlelight. Aldera is always bustling so Takoba is loney in comparison, but maybe there is comfort where you have never looked before. Comfort in red gowns. Comfort in sweaters beside the sea, comfort in silver soldiers and a training room where you are not their commander. That thought is a shock and you clutch the comet in your hand at the edge of the room. Forty-five.

Aizawa’s training pit warms by candlelight under its glass ceiling. Oppressively tall and so much like drowning, the stars blink down at you from their thrones like dappled moonlight on waves. You fasten the comet pin to your bodice with eyes tilted to the sky. Your first night here the sky was the only one who knew you. You smooth your hands up your hips and rest both palms at your waist where Bakugou held you, bleeding, poisoned, his forehead slipping off your shoulders with sweat and the lurches of the horse. A ten minute ride from the edge of the forest to the city gates, it was only the sky watching such desperation. There was comfort in that, under the threat of death. Comfort in your loss of rank here, in anonymity.

Rescued from a crowd, rescued from punishment, rescued from the sea, from cliffs, from sickness, from solitude. Saved by magic, saved by strength, by yourself and by your prince, over and over again in this wet kingdom.

There is comfort in teaching strangers to fear you and you blink through the memory of your cherrywood halberd soaring through a dinner party. The loss of its weight at your back makes you ache and your ears start to itch as the rest of the night replays itself. Forty-seven. Bakugou pressed close between your legs at the lip of a table. His thumbs smoothing your cheeks over like parchment and his cheeks flashing red at a realization– at everything you now realize he was trying to say, to show you. You’re grateful for the privacy of the stars again so that no one can ask why you smile in an empty room.

Forty-eight. Dying for a person is so much worse than dying for a cause. You thought it might be the end when the blue flammed mage forced his hand around your mouth or when a garden screamed in ashes under his boot. When he– he took you by the shoulder and branded the shape of his palm to your flesh, when your arm was relieved of its socket– everything, all of it came so much easier than the moment your prince stepped forward to face him. Easier than Bakugou collapsing in a burning clearing, easier than counting the decline of his heartbeat through the clothes on your back, easier, so much easier than retching up seawater together on the sand.

Prince Bakugou is agonizing. Forty-nine, he’s upstairs, gilded, waiting for you.

You shake your head like unnecessary thoughts might come loose with the movement. For one night your worry can be in not staring after your charge– not tasting his lips when you wet yours at the edge of the party– and not in hallucinations of murderous mages. A comet and a dragontooth remind you of the weight of a heart. The last candle around the glowing arena beats to life beside the first and it is time for a ball.

You would have smoothed your skirts over the daggers hidden among them. You would have checked your hair again in the mirror and tested the fit of your boots with a few secret skips. You’d have imagined the warmth of Bakugou’s hands and his magic, to ease the ache of watching pretty blue ladies waiting to dance with the barbarous and beautiful prince. You would have attended and served quietly, you would have dreamed of home if the flame in that last pretty candle wasn’t flickering in a clear and lonely shade of blue.

Fifty.

“Find cover!” you hiss at the squire who collapses to the floor rather than get knocked down the stairs in your charge, “Douse the rugs!”

You call over your shoulder and hurdle the staircase railing rather than waste time sprinting to the bottom. If all of your training boiled down to a single skill, if there was only one chance, one thing you could be trusted to do in the blink of an eye it was arming yourself.

A shortsword shines in your fist as you sprint, its wall hooks worse for your wear after being ripped from the armory on your warpath. The scabbard is fastened sloppily to your left hip. Cruel images of half-scorched bodies, croaking victims that need both your hands to carry them to safety, your prince– they necessitate the holster which whips your thigh as you tear through a quiet castle. Quiet, so quiet, too quiet for a ball, idiot, you should have known. Every single light in the castle blinks to life in the very last lilacs of sunset, and every single one of them quivers with blue fire.

Seed-sized wall carvings flow through their forms, animated by your speed. Stone does not creak when you step over it, hardly any servants linger in empty hallways and the thought that one squire boy will be the firefighting force for the whole castle is horror compounded by horror. “Captain Hawks!” You bellow with the last bit of air between strides.

He’s watching you, he didn’t abandon his assignment for a party. You burst from servants’ paths onto the exact blue rugs you knew the stairs would lead to; your Alderan senses might be dulling but this castle is no longer a maze. Takoban cluelessness can take over all it wants. All it needs to do is get you to the ballroom in this stupid fucking dress. One by one, sconces yawn in innocent blues and burn so hot and so quickly that wax weeps to the floor.

A window in the line takes your pommel to its pane as you retch the sword’s hilt through the glass and shout, “Hawks!” louder, between flying shards, into the night, “Fire!”

Candles instead of your dress, a candle instead of your flesh. He could be anywhere, nearby, outside, straddling corpses, you don’t know the rules his magic follows and every step you take without bursting into flames is a second you can’t waste. Your prince will fight to the death, you cannot let him. Your prince will die for his friends, you can’t bear to lose a single one. Send me instead, you beg. Me, wait for me.

You soar down two flights of twisted stairs and lurch at a tight corner before colliding with a laundryman and his blue candlestick. “Run,” you seeth without stopping, vaulting over both the man and portrait strewn across the floor beside him, ripped at the center and trailing flecks of paint. The last turn is towards the right leg of the grand staircase, entryway and ballroom dead in your sights. Red wings don’t appear and so you hook your hips, and your gown with it, over the lip of the banister.

Hardly a breath escapes the closed ballroom doors. Why are there always too few guards here? What ball makes no noise? What kind of monster could kill a room of people without making a sound? There are clicks, you panic as the banister ends and dismount the slide into a sprint. There is the bone chilling image of the blue mage clicking over corpses with the heels of his tall black boots– the body of your prince lying charred and bloodless before he could even let loose a spark.

Your dancing boots make the loudest sound in the entire palace as you run your legs harder, to carry you farther, until finally your hands are flat on the ballroom doors and your biceps scream under orders. The elven silver budges only slightly. There should be footmen outside to let guests in and the anxiety of their absence gives you an unnatural strength, enough to force one gilded door open a crack and slip into the destruction with your weapon raised.

Find him, find him, find Bakugou first, soft sunny hair and pomegranate eyes, the boy who barks laughter, he who wields the magic of old gods, your heart, find your prince, get him home.

Silver foot bolts shriek over marble as you force your way inside. You are a cacophony always. You are blood splattered across the edge of the dancefloor when you burst into the party.

“Highness!” You shout into the blue before realizing the silence of the ballroom doesn’t come from death. One thousand pearls startle immediately at the beast and her raised sword. Gowns of lace, suits of glass, feathers, freckles, masks and tiny shoes, bells, fans, crystal flutes of pink champagne, and not a single person speaking over a hush. Two hundred eyes watch the Alderan dog prepare to fire again into a party.

Balls in Aldera breathe life to the city. Any comfort you felt for Takoba dies with your entrance. Waiters roll between guests with trays of cake and wine, and the winter floral decorations must have cost a fortune for petals to be sewed and draped and weeping from the walls because this certainly was meant to be a ball. Your fingers ache for the weight of your halberd for the first time since you lost it in the sea.

There is no mage when your heckles fall. No mage when your shoulders droop and your sword with it, not when you search the ballroom for your Alderan sun, not a single shock of white hair taunting from the windows. Every candle in every abra, every chandelier, sconce, cup, spike, or lamp, is a melancholy flickering blue above the sea of silent guests.

Your weapon falls slack. You exhale as the swordpoint chips the floor.

The queen sits on her throne beyond leagues of distracted dancers and servers and bards, with her hands folded and her husband beside her tense, hunched, and licked by fire where you startled him out of his seat. The great ballroom window blinks with its audience of stars. Just outside and over the cliffs, the maws of the sea applaud.

You jolt, as do the guests closest to you, at the sound of metal crush but it is only Uraraka in her uniform, catching the tray of a server who panicked at the sight of you. Shinsou’s hair isn’t hard to pick out from his post beside a waitstaff door and he thins his lips instead of speaking. No one speaks. There is no laughter, there is a single violin playing from a fifteen piece band– did you scare the trumpets too?– weeping a waltz for the dancers who crane away from their partners to watch what you might do. Their every gown is white, blue, green– silver like sea foam. Their hair obeys them and folds into smooth shapes at the tops of their heads so that their noble throats can be struck sick by the air of a room above the sea. You are the only foul red thing here.

The flame of worry collapses in your chest along with your heart. Quietly, blue fire watches back without laying a finger on anyone.

Oh.

“Y/n?”

There you are.

The ring of dancers at the center of the room curl around in their timid waltz, revealing new faces from the back of the crowd. Kirishima in a fit white suit, too focused on not crushing his Takoban partner to even realize you’ve arrived and then Mina, full of worry with her hands in Fuyumi’s and both perfectly placed in the seaside painting with their layered dresses of white. She makes to break away from the current, to rescue you, but her prince beats her to it.

The prince of Aldera climbs trees in the summer to reach the best apples. He likes to bathe at night. He is slightly shorter than his mother in her favorite boots and it bothers him, but never enough to say anything. His fingertips sparked when he kissed you.

He is cloaked in red. An abandoned partner jingles angrily as he drifts through the tides and calling your name is the easiest thing in the world, “Y/n.” He glows. You have hidden from this all day, and tonight his war cape arcs sanguine circles around him.

The Sun approaches, he glides to you like picking up a stray is part of this dance. He takes up your swordhand in his, weapon clattering to the polished floor and with a magic-heavy hand at your waist the scabbard belt falls away. Hair pushed straight back and two red earrings dangling, Bakugou rolls his eyes, “It’s a dogshit party,” and a few pieces of hair fall over a stitched gash on his cheek, “but I doubt a swordfight will fix it.”

You don’t understand and you don’t try to speak through volley after volley of embarrassment.

“Won’t,” he rumbles, “won’t let you look crazy alone.” Prince Bakugou Katsuki steadies his palm just behind your waist and draws you onto the dancefloor, hand in hand. He is more than beautiful. Polished boots, white suit and golden embroidery– each button in his vest is flanked by a small Alderan sun. Dragons prowl along the hem. His red cape you thought lost, rocks you with homesick.

“Highness,” he steps to a rhythm in fours, heel toe, toe, toe heel forward into the fold of your dress to guide you back into the stream of dancers. “I didn’t– I–” Your feet barely make the proper shapes to keep up for your Alderan heart is a grease fire not a hearth. Bakugou holds his head high to the side with the posture of a king. His pupils occupy their lowest corners so he never need take his eyes off of you.

You, his war criminal.

“Sir,” you manage and wince when you dare a peek past his shoulders towards onlookers.

He is embers, “I have a surprise.” He does not grab you by the collar or threaten you with his teeth and when you grasp his hand to steady yourself from an awkward step, he is the boy who makes magic for you in the dark. Bakugou Katsuki’s ears are scarlet even as he stares ahead, sweat pearls between your fingers and he sweeps you close, albeit awfully tight, through the steps of a Takoban dance. His face catches light from the candles above and the shadow of his pale lashes sweeps over both cheeks.

A corded thigh slips between yours and back again to the tune of one sad string. The rhythm doubles for four steps and calms again. You could dance the continent around for all the etiquette training you’ve endured but something about the lack of ghosts here, something about your heart beating out of time with the song, about red eyes and a clenched jaw, the hand fingering notches on the small of your back like it might a cello– you are suddenly on the catwalks again with your lips smiling into his, you are holding back tears, you are clicking teeth and stumbled steps and hands cupping cheeks, and your heart bleeds all over the dancefloor. Your voice cracks, “I’m so sorry,” and it is the loudest thing in the room.

“The candles are blue at the queen’s request,” he rumbles, sacrificing posture to watch you properly, to correct you. “That must…I, I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have let them.” Bakugou raises his right shoulder in invitation for your hand to rest there but your fingers lift from his arm as he turns you both, and settle on that small new wound at his cheek. You breathe deeply as your chests slot together, no fight in sight. Your relief almost comes in tears.

Party guests do not stop staring, especially now that the foreign royal has spirited his beast to the dancefloor. At a distance, familiar faces train gazes your way. Little doctor Shuzenji and Aizawa beside her nursing a pink champagne flute, both ribboned in their bests. Uraraka offers you a tight lip at the edge of the dancefloor. Fuyumi boxsteps in line nearby, the lonely violin picks up pace, hand in hand with her youngest brother and attempts to lean in to whisper to you before Bakugou cages them both out with his shoulders.

He clears his throat, “Captain,” the second-loudest thing in the room, “will you dance with me?”

It’s not your best, admittedly, but the thought your four-step is poor enough your partner needs to clarify does lighten the mood, and you nod. Half your focus is sacrificed to keeping calm in such a full room and the other half is completely at his mercy.

“Peruro?” Bakugou raises those flaxen eyebrows, his lips led by yours. The dance peruro. Destructive and certain to give the Takoban King an aneurysm. Something like comfort slips in. Your eyes widen suddenly and your prince with you. What does he see? you wonder. You nod again.

The waltz will reach its climax soon and Bakugou leads you through a perfect Takoban rhythm until the second he dips forward to whisper, through your hair and over the silence of this cursed party, “Mind your ears, dragonne.”

You shudder immediately at the name, hand in hand, chest to his. Something in your perfect center bursts in white flame and you throw your eyes down to your skirts.

“Dance!” Bakugou’s voice cracks like a whip of thunder above the soggy party and he lifts his chin over your head. The vibration of every syllable rumbles from his ribs to yours and his growl is smoke on water, “or die.”

The next second a horn howls one crescendoed note and every hair not squeezed into your silk dress, prickles. You jerk your gaze back up to Bakugou, unsure what expression you might be making, “How?”

But your prince is still grinning wide so you must be too. “Bribed em,” he leans close and as one confused violin trails off, another trumpet joins the fray. Dancers look around distractedly and onlookers whisper, louder, slightly louder, to be heard over the addition of percussion to the building swell of tuning instruments. A pair of cymbals crash like earthquake, a waitress topples over.

Shinsou shakes his head in the corner of the room and rubs his face, fondly entertained. The king is out of his seat again. Suddenly a fifteen piece band is making the sound of home. The band vibrates under an arc of camellias and the small woman seated at the front pulls a flute from her suit jacket. The herding call of her shepherd’s pipe gathers the cacophony and just as quickly as the group disrupted the peace, they hush behind seventeen beautiful whispers of the pipe, clear and bright as stars. It is the quiet start of Mitsuki’s favorite drinking song. Fear of crowds melts from you like bedtime stories.

faire of the fields

the girl who plays for me

dance and i will watch you

dance and i will join,

you who

teaches beasts to love

send us all to war

She draws the final note long and low, violins become fiddles, trumpets repeat the tune, a drummer growls, two pipes build, and the flute cheers back atop a flirty melody of three before the brilliant song erupts. Bakugou clasps your hand tight and throws you from his grip so that you might twirl and glow under his arm but the rules of peruro dictate a little more focus than that.

The closest dancers to you shriek when Mina barrels through them and pulls you out of his hold. She squeals with two gloved hands on your waist, “Miss firelight!” Her dress envelopes yours and the spinning doesn’t stop until you’ve tripped a man at the edge of the dancefloor and very nearly toppled over yourselves.

Over the curve of her shoulder you snort, shocked by your own glee, as Takobans try to adjust their waltz to the Alderan rhythm and inevitably four-step themselves into a fervor. Kirishima towers over your prince and barks with laughter trying to get the man to spin under his arm. Shinsou is no longer brooding at his post. He is hand in hand with Kanminari, flecked all over with petitfour cream, who has led him into the fray.

“Lady Mina!” you bellow and take up her hand in yours. You fasten your waists together and both of you fly into the tide. When was the last time you put the blue mage’s voice away? How long has it been since you last danced Peruro? Singing while stepping, laughing, diving for bystanders and squealing when drunk guests toppled over themselves to be the one to lift you into the air. You steal your partners in peruro, and fight to keep them. It keeps the room from feeling small, from crushing you. When you are thrown whoever catches you gets the next dance and the songs never end.

Euphoria threatens to spill over the fire Katsuki started in your heart. Flame mages are far from your mind under blue candlelight.

The queen does not move, but she might be smiling. Fuyumi yelps when her champion scoops her up from behind and places her on her shoulder. Even the youngest Todoroki and his freckled champion tut about together to the rhythm. You hope no one tries to steal the blue prince; he might not survive it; and make eye contact with Natsuo while you completely butcher Mina’s three step dips. He stands at the base of his parents’ thrones, unmoving, but pink with excitement.

Takobans, even servants, lingering at the edge of the crowd cannot outswim the rip current. They belong to a quietly stubborn nation who will attempt their delicate hop skips even to the bleat of an Alderan horn. Only cowards leave a dancefloor and it is the first respectable tradition you’ve seen here.

In a flash of red across the room, your prince takes up two stiff women in each arm and you almost spit in laughter as they go purple under the instruction of the barbarian prince. The polished floor vibrates. It’s too loud to think, a mix of happiness and screams of indignation as pretty lords and ladies are pulled into the fray by those countrymen only slightly drunker than they.

Peruro is a game and so when Sero Hanta and his cheeks tattooed with lipstick kisses, plucks you from your partner, Mina can hardly complain. The flutist roars her approval and her fiddlers breathe life into the happy song behind her. Trumpets pluck, bleat, and howl complex harmonies that prove you’re Alderan from the sheer intoxication of the sound.

Sero’s long arms wrap behind you and you’re off your feet before you can speak. “Return of the Red Captain!” His grip on your sides is more ticklish than hell and you giggle and squirm as you fall into a dip. His palms hit something hard, the dagger concealed in your gown, “Are you armed?” He chuckles and tugs you up and close, back to chest.

“Me? Never.” You peek over your shoulder, both laughing, and he peels you from him so tight you spin away three times fully and far enough away from him that Kirishima poaches you without difficulty.

His Alderan fire rolls off the warm parts of him in waves of pine smoke and happiness. How many yards of fabric it must have taken for Takoba to stitch his suit– the cost– you can’t imagine. He hoists you onto his shoulder before you can think a moment longer.

Your red pleats swell in the air and settle with your hips on his broad shoulder. The hidden sheath under your bodice taps his ear. “Are you armed?!” He hollers and spins once to make you squeal and grip tight to his hair. Princess Fuyumi covers her mouth to hide laughter and you beam at each other from your shoulder seats, over the sea of Takoban heads. The champion shrugs you into his arms and back onto your feet. The new heels of your dancing boots click like bells every step you take.

Eijirou is a wonderful dancer, and difficult to burgle. He throws his hands above his head and the pair of you clap, kick one leg out and turn, eyes always locked and teeth shining. With your next kick, your hip checks a short man attempting to dance Takoban and knocks him into another pair. Eijirou’s next clap, behind his back, startles a woman so badly she covers her ears and the whole room reeks of home. Drown in it Takoba, dance or die.

Your friends are safe. There’s nothing to fear from shitty parties and you spare a thought for the servants you must have traumatized on your rampage down here. Wers and mers, the window you broke– Kirishima’s hands are at your waist because you are distracted, you are searching, and before you can brace yourself he has thrown you clear into the air.

No matter how much you hate it here, the ballroom is beautiful and Natsuo might be a wonderful king. His decorations shine in the queen’s candlelight. Early winter flowers are strung by the thousands to garnish balustrades and window frames, they erupt from iridescent vases and hang in an arch over the howling band. Bundles of pearls dot every corner and swallow the moonlight. Silver shells and whistles, inlaid cuffs, white wigs, Takoba is most beautiful by moonlight. There’s no sun here. Did you ever think you’d hate him? That you’d miss him? Where is he? Your prince likes plums best because they’re sour and he blows on dandelions when no one’s watching and he works construction with his men when the city needs repair and he hates how dry paper feels on his fingers. The daggers at your hip cool in your descent.

“Red suits you, dragonne!” Bakugou roars and you land square in his arms to the coo of a shepherd's pipe. You blink and his, him, he– he stares. He is terrible at piano and walks with his head down after rain to keep from stepping on worms. He mends his own clothes because his father taught him how to sew. “You,” he attempts to speak, “Captain, you,” but the high of the dance dissolves from him even as the music swells because you stare and bring your fingers to the wound on his cheek.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathe. He does not find his words in the space between your faces. Your prince goes pink. Enough of the room is dancing now that you need to read lips to truly hear anything but he understands your every thought without effort as he lets you down. There’s a hand on your back to keep you close. I’m afraid. It hurts to be so close to you. He presses his forehead to yours.

“Y/n, ’m sorry.” You fight yourself not to fight the closeness. It’s rotten work. Your gown matches his suit perfectly and pressed together you spin in the chaos and climax of a beautiful song.

The prince rolls figure-eights against your forehead with his own. Two much less focused dancers jostle your duet and Bakugou sweeps a foot forward to trip the leader before lifting you over the pile of men and returning to the dance. You glow red in his arms above him, halo of the moon.

A tall man shifts between rushing servants on the catwalks. Your prince beams below you, king of the sun. It's a pretty party. It is perfectly loud. A polearm is readied on a scarred arm in the dark and no one minds blue fire.

The flutist picks up speed, spurred on by the tambourine, and each note from each instrument cuts itself off to make time for the next. Every place you touch one another aches. If it would just stay like this forever, dancing, knowing without speaking, you could kill any enemy. The sky would learn to kneel, if only you could keep the adoration of winespilt eyes.

A series of gasps, a yelp, and Kirishima’s sweet laughter punctuate the thought. Bakugou was meant to wear fine clothes like these. Sparks like fairy lights twinkle where sweat beads on his jaw and you would have given nine lives to kiss him one more time. He will be a good king too. There is a scream.

Your hand on his shoulder bunches the fabric of his cape, and you lurch forward to lock your other hand around his back. Your foot is dead behind his before he can blink and with a surge of momentum from the dance, the last swell of fiddle, a prayer for old gods, luck from the sea and something like love, you knock the prince over your shoulder and onto the ground into the thickest thrall of dancers.

He laughs the whole way down and holds you where he can to keep from knocking your heads together. The sound is molten gold. You would sin to hear it always.

He is still laughing, howling, bursting with joy when he hits the ground and you with him in your perfect dance peruro. He doesn’t notice the whine of dropped instruments or revulsion of the crowd because he cannot look away from you. On his back, on the floor, beneath you, Prince Bakugou lifts his arm to cup your face and freezes in the new and sudden silence.

The impact of the spear shattered a chunk of floor beside your prince’s heart where it landed. Missed, you grin feebly. He’s okay. He is perfect and wide-eyed and beautiful, and the blade of your cherrywood halberd shines with blood from its home through your chest.

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xoxochb · 4 months ago

Text

⋆·˚ ༘ * they got no idea about me and you

warnings: this chapter kinda sucks but I fear this and the next are probably the slowest chapters, I also want to apologize for anyone who didn’t get added on the tag list I either lost where you asked or your tags were off

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of hades and persephone

series master list

hiding percy jackson from your parents was not an easy task, especially when it would be for two whole days. this morning was easy since everyone had been busy with wedding preparations, you got dressed like usual and went to breakfast like everyday

your father had to leave today to ‘speak to the young prince marrying my daughter’ - it didn’t matter, he was gone and that’s all that mattered. on the other hand you had to go to olympus to try on wedding dresses, along with the actual wedding taking place in a week (hera had insisted the wedding be held at her palace since she’s the goddess of marriage) which means percy had to also find a way to stay out of zeus’ eyesight if he wished to keep his life

you had told him to meet you at the palace this afternoon, which means you had time to get settled and start a game of croquet with nico, which is the point in your schedule you had just now reached

“don’t you think it’s risky letting percy stay here?” your brother asks, hitting his first ball- it just about reaches the hoop but stops in time for it to go through, he throws a internal tantrum

you laugh at his failure “I’ve got it under control”

you steady your mallet behind the ball and with a swift move it rolls through the hoop. you proceed to hoop two

“I don’t think I like this game” nico complains

you hit his head with your free hand “that’s because you’re not good at it”

he rolls his eyes and begins his turn. the ball- yet again- does not make it through and he takes a deep breath to suppress is anger. he drops his mallet and begins to walk, you follow his actions

“when is percy going to arrive?” he asks, changing the subject

“I’m not sure. lemonade while we wait?”

“of course”

you make your way to the patio where your lemonade had been waiting. the queen said it was for after the game but she was nowhere to be found and you supposed the game had been finished anyways. you pull out a chair and take a seat, picking up a glass of lemonade and taking a sip, nico does similarly

“how are you going to hide him?”

“why do you seem to care more about hiding percy than I am?”

“I’m your brother. your worries are my worries”

you sigh and place the cup back on the table. a worrisome silence fills the area, perhaps you should tell percy not to come anymore. although you had thought out many intricate plans to hide the boy, you couldn’t help but worry he would be caught

and lost in reverie, you don’t realize the very subject of your thoughts standing behind you until his hands are placed on your shoulders. you gasp and tilt your head up to face him

“it took you long enough” you tease

he laughs and places a kiss on your lips, nico fakes a gag and leaves with his lemonade in hand. percy sits in the seat your brother got up from, taking your lemonade from the table he takes a sip

“what’s the schedule for today?” he inquires

“well you missed croquet, now it’s ‘lemonade time’ then I have lunch with zeus and hera, and I’m free for the rest of the day. that is- until tomorrow, I’ve got wedding dress try-ons” you explain

he nods as a sign that he’s listening. for the rest of your free time you sit in silence, that was until your free time was up and you had lunch with the king and queen- a very awkward one may you add. hera was very talkative, many many questions about the wedding about the boy you would be marrying, who you still knew barely anything about, who you also have not even seen since the night you danced with him

after lunch you were free for the rest of the day until dinner that night. you got to complete a book in the long period between the two, percy permanently glued to your side, for what reason- you’re unsure. you suppose it might have been out of jealousy since you were going to marry another man, or perhaps just because he loved you. maybe even a mix between the two of these options- regardless he still would not leave you alone

that night you slept well, that was until morning when you woke up by peppered kisses to your face

“perseus what are you doing?”

“you sleep a lot”

you push him off of you and he fakes a pout

“I have a busy day”

you attempt to get up but percy’s arm around your waist stops you

“I will let you watch me try on dresses”

he lets go and you successfully stand up this time. he watches as you make your way to the dresser- he also watched as you changed but you would hit him if he told you that

he waited an hour as you had breakfast downstairs, scanning through your books, he wonders what you saw in reading. although he couldn’t read himself so he had no right to speak

when you got back you had brought a plethora of white dresses, throwing them onto your bed

“let’s get started, shall we?”

he nods and sits on the edge of your bed ‘the most perfect view for the show’ he says

the first dress you try on is short, too short for a wedding so you move onto the next: a longer dress, you could never walk in that. the next dresses were mixtures of everything you shouldn’t wear to your wedding, however you finally decided on one after many hours. it was strapless, maybe too revealing for a wedding, but it was the perfect length and you were actually able to walk in this one (percy also said this was his favorite but you wouldn’t tell him that’s the main reason you chose it)

“should I really choose this one? do you think my father will hate it?” you say worriedly

percy stands up and places his hands on your waist along with a kiss to your bare shoulder

“It’s perfect, you look beautiful”

“you said I looked beautiful in every dress I tried on”

“that’s because you are”

a pink hue adorns your face, you look down in an attempt to hide it but percy lifts your chin up to look at him, faces so close you were sure your heart would best out of your chest any moment

after what feels like forever (it was about five seconds) he finally places his lips on yours, you let out a sigh of relief and contentment and wrap your arms around his neck to keep him close

the moment was almost perfect, and it would have been completely if your brother hadn’t walked in and you had to hurriedly part from each other

nico’s expression is a mix of disgust and worry- you wonder what had been so urgent that he had to walk in without knocking- but alas you got the news very quickly

“your soon-to-be husband is here, he wants to see you”

taglist: @lara20aral @itzmeme

#xoxochb #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo #percy series #pjo hoo toa #percy jakson #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x reader

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mischiefmaker615 · 4 months ago

Note

Hii, i absolutely love your work!!

I was wondering if for your song one shots if you're still doing them, if I could maybe request Jackie and Wilson by Hozier. I can just imagine a very sweet Loki being absolutely infatuated with reader and wanting to start thinking about having kids and it's all just very fluffy and sweet. I understand that you probably get loads of asks and if you're too busy don't worry about it.

Love your work!! xx

Summary/Inspiration: Jackie And Wilson by Hozier

Rating: PG13

Note: never to busy love :D always taking requests as long as my brain says it's possible LOL more Musical Mischief one shots here

Kitchen Care

It has been quite a long time since Loki’s had a skip in his step, a smile on his face and his usual ‘don’t bother me’ mood gone. Most fear has left those of the palace- still upholding their respectful places as they bowed and continued his bidding upon his request, but even they could tell that Loki was down right happier. Ever since..

She arrived.

She was a royal, sent from another realm very much like Asgard where she could live as an ambassador to be the bridge between each culture when messages needed to be sent. To everyone’s surprise, she was young, as young as the royal princes actually and by how peaceful the nine realms have been, she was very rarely called to work upon matters; leaving her much free time within Asgard’s palace. Furthering everyone’s surprise, she and the prince of mischief took a liking to each other instantly and have grown with a secret intended courtship throughout the years.

She was what distracted Loki from his royal duties, the one being that could calm him down and the very person he looked forward to see every waking day. They almost acted like children, his mischief being inspired by her laughter and swayed farther away from its usual chaos- to everyone’s relief. A simple prank was much preferred that utter chaos to everyone’s schedules.

Loki’s fingers would tap at his writing desk, almost edging off his seat as his instructor took his blood time wrapping things up before he would seek out Y/N. most of the time their secret meetings would be in the library, where they would share and compare while they shared the same seat, Loki very much preferring her to take his lap than requiring him to scoot over.

Upon finding her in the gardens, he would sneak up behind her and give her ass a playful smack before he would run ahead with her yelping behind him. it would then follow by her running after him, scoldings turning into laughter as he would run to Asgard’s mazes in which he would hide before surprising her once more with his arms around her waist.

Although they weren’t openly romantic per say in front of others, thinking they were doing a well good job keeping their courtship a secret, everyone could tell they were in love. How his stares would always linger whenever there was a court meeting or she would merely pass by. She was always at his arm whenever festivities would occur- almost every night where, of course, she was the only one he would dance with.

With Thor around, It was the only time he would get defensive, jealous, back to his old self as his mood would harden and he would insert himself between them protectively before he would have to lead her away.

The center of his happiness. Today, he stayed quiet as he crept into the palace kitchen and a grin tugged at his lips to find her there.

Although she was shooed and advised against it, Y/N would always sneak and help the servants out whenever she could. Many, even the maids would tell her there was no need but she would insist and take great pleasure in conversing and lessening the load upon them throughout the day. Today it would seem she was helping out with baking, her dress and cheeks lightly covered in flour while her hands worked at kneading the dough.

Loki’s eyes softened as he watched her, completely mesmerized as he leaned himself against the doorframe undetected before the mischievous glint shined in his eyes. It was to good of a chance to pass up. With a light flick of magic in his eyes, he transformed his appearance into a young maiden, looking like the female version of himself but with a servant’s dress and a bit of wrinkles to the fabric.

Trotting in, he smiled happily as he began washing his hands just behind her before he joined her side, taking the dough from her delicate hands, into his dainty ones.

‘’a royal such as yourself shouldn’t stoop low as to do our duties, allow me my lady,’’ Loki said, his voice feminine as he continued to roll the dough in his hands while she looked at him with a raise of the brow.

‘’do not think of yourself low my friend, everything that you all do it quite important to the palace and appreciate should be better shown from us.’’ Y/N shook her head and added more flour to the wooden board before Loki began rolling it out.

‘’and we are quite grateful in the opportunity to serve you, but you should let us take over,’’ Loki nodded over his shoulder to the other servants busy working behind them. ‘’there is more than enough hands to speed things up-‘’

‘’more hands make fast work, I would hope that would lead you all to your enjoyment pauses within your day faster’’ she smiled and started moving some of the seasonings a bit closer, holding some of the bottles up to try to identify them better before she separated some on the counters.

‘’I would just hate to see a princess like you to get herself dirty..’’ Loki tsked and began flattening some of the dough on the board.

‘’I could always wash up- though I am not a princess-‘’ she shook her head.

‘’you are not betrothed?’’ Loki raised a brow, glancing at her as he worked.

‘’what has your way of thinking such things?’’ she questioned, her movements slowing as she turned her back on her to retrieve a tray from the shelves beside the counter.

‘’pardon my lady.. it’s just you spent quite a large amount of time with the younger prince of Asgard.. one could only assume such things and it’s clear on how he feels towards you..’’ Loki said with a bit of shyness as he spoke, the humor in his heart a bit difficult not to show as he kept his eyes down.

‘’how he feelings?’’ Y/N pressed, coming slowly back to set a tray beside him before going through the drawers for varies shapes of dough cutters- decorative ones she’s managed to fetch from Midgard during their holiday seasons.

‘’he stares quite a lot, he rushes through things so he could keep up with your whereabouts..’’ he then lowered his voice, putting on secretive and gossip look as he grinned. ‘’I even heard he looks forward to possible heirs that might arise-‘’

Y/N cheeks reddened as she quickly turned, going to the counter across from Loki to pick up another bowl of fresh dough that needed to be rolled as well. ‘’no we’ve never- I mean.. you shouldn’t listen to idle gossip from those unless it’s coming from the individual themselves.. we are in love and will do things in a proper manner we see fit..’’

‘’ah, so you are a traditionalist?’’ Loki couldn’t help but grin and upon hearing no response, raised a brow of her whereabouts- fearing he might have teased a bit to much. As soon as he turned around to face her, a dollop of fresh, moist dough hit him square in the face, splattering on most of his features as he stumbled back and a flash of light made him drop his disguise by his distracted mind set.

‘’I was wondering how long you were going to keep that up Loki but was surprised you bothered bringing up such topics even you blush when I try’’ Y/N laughed and watched him wipe his face with an open calm, a sly look on his features as he stared her down.

‘’I enjoy putting you to the test darling, you detected me faster than most times. I was quite tempted to see if you were open to interacting with the opposite sex while I was at it’’ he winked and ducked when another glob of dough was thrown towards his head, missing him.

‘’why bother if you could shift into either anyway?’’ she laughed, embarrassment in her voice as she looked up from scooping up more, only to have a glob land at her chest, squeaking as it fell into her cleavage and Loki smirked as he gave his finger a small taste from the remnants of his throw.

‘’oh dear, allow me to retrieve it for you darling,’’ he smirked as he prowled forward, causing her to practically squeal and move herself to the other side of the table.

By now the rest of the servants have hidden their grins, quickly disappearing momentarily from the room as soon as they discovered the royal prince had entered and figured it best they weren’t in his way. Loki quickly made a move, chasing her around the table as they laughed and ducked as more dough was thrown, some missing and some landing and soon had both their faces and chest covered in flour and dough. Finally Loki gave up the chase and merely teleported himself in front of her, causing her to run into open arms before he engulfed her, squishing the dough more into herself as she pressed against his chest with a giggle.

When they both recovered from laugher, Loki’s smile hesitated and he leaned back a little so he could look into her eyes. ‘’so you were thinking about it at least?..’’

Y/N raised a brow at his question, resting her hands against his chest as she felt his arms rest around her waist. ‘’about what my prince?’’

A smiled gently at his title, knowing she was only teasing since he’s given her permission to call him by name years ago, but diminished when he clarified with a clear of his throat. ‘’you know.. baring children? Some day..’’

Her cheeks reddened with shyness at the topic, seeing how he was serious and nodded her head a little as she pressed her forward to his chest, hiding her eyes. ‘’I have- some day of course.. although we are still within our courtship where we are yet to come out publicly.. I wouldn’t wish to bring heirs unless it was with you.. I love you Loki..’’ she whispered, bringing her eyes back up to him with a loving smile where his heart fluttered.

Those words.. those sweet words he loved to hear as if it were the first time hearing them every time she said it.. it tightened his hold on her, bringing her close so he could brush his lips against hers. Her fingers gently tangled in his hair, feeling his head tilt to lean into her touch as he pressed more into her mouth. Knowing this moment will only make things.. strain a bit more, he made himself pull back and catch his breath as he smiled.

‘’shall we get cleaned up darling? It would save water usage if we both go together..’’ he winked and she laughed.

‘’as if the water usage problem would be yours.’’ She paused and glanced around ‘’we should clean up the mess first for them-‘’

Loki chuckled at her concern for the servant’s work, having a softened heart himself ever since she practically taught him to care and he rose a hand. ‘’you’ve always worn your heart of your sleeve darling.. allow me,’’ and with a flick of his wrist, the room was clean and back to normal.

‘’I appreciate it my prince, especially since apparently we’ll be one servant short now’’ she teased and he laughed.

‘’at least we won’t be short a princess..’’

Tag List: @foxherder @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fire-in-her-veinz

#loki x reader smut #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki god of mischief #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki smut #loki #lokifluff

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orcasoul · 22 days ago

Text

Beskar dress for Dins Cyare

I saw this picture and immediately thought of a gown made of Beskar and how it would drive Din feral for you 🙈❤💋💥

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of smut (under 18's DNI!)

Word count: 477

Dins breath caught in his chest as you strode into the grand ballroom of the newly built Darasuum Palace. Months of hard work re-establishing the planet Mandalore is to be celebrated tonight. All eyes fell on you as you confidently approached your Mand'alor, your riddur, but you have eyes only for him, as he does you. Seeing Dins face in public is still something you are getting used to and at this moment you're glad he had recently chose to forgo the helmet in favour of a more modern approach to The Way because now you can see the effect you're having on him.

His lustful gaze sweeps your body slowly as you stand in front of him, his pupils dilating as he swallows thickly. "Maker, Cyare... you look... sensational!" He can't take his eyes off the sway of your hips as you slink your arms around his neck and begin dancing slowly with him. Your grin spreads from ear to ear, pleased that you have invoked the very reaction you'd hoped for. "I had this dress made especially for you," you purr seductively in his ear. Din chuckles. "I don't think I'd look as good in it as you do." You giggle and slap his chest - he knows what you mean.

"Truly Meshla..." he gushes as he strokes his hands up and down your down your back. "You are perfection. "Is this-" "Beskar," you confirm, proudly. Dins deep brown eyes return to your form as if he's trying to burn the image onto his brain. "You know what I like most about this dress...?" you whisper, conspiratorially as you slid your hand into his resting on the small of your back and bring your joined hands to your thigh. "... How high the slit goes. It would be so easy for you to slide it across, hook my leg over your hip and slowly sink into me. I'd make you feel so good Din-" Din grips your hip, willing himself to gain control before he explodes.

"Stop," he warns with a devilish grin. "Or I might just have to take you in front of everyone, right here right now." You arch your back so you are now pressed up against his front, his obvious arousal poking into your lower stomach. "Mmm... Is that a threat or a promise?" You bite your bottom lip as you further press your stomach against his hardening cock. Din groans quietly before looking around the ballroom, relieved to see no one has noticed your little tease. He looks into your eyes, his own swirling with desire and love for you. He can't help the amused chuckle rumble from his chest. "You're gonna be the death of me woman, you know that?" Now he grips you by both hips, enjoying the flash of excitement crossing your face. "But what a way to go!"

#pedro pascal #din djarin fanfiction #din x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #mando #din djarin fluff #star wars #star wars fanfiction

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bunny-bear-blogs · 1 year ago

Text

Starstruck

Synopsis: A month ago, Lesser Lord Kusanali announced that Sumeru would be having its very first masquerade ball. She explained that it would take place in the Palace of Alcazarzaray and set two ground rules. Rule number one: no one is allowed to take off their masks at the event. Rule number two: you can only give hints about one's identity and are allowed to guess so. She exclaimed that the event would be fun, and she encouraged everyone to attend.

Word Count: 2475

A/N: I loved the concept of this :>

Since knowing the news of the masquerade ball, you have been running around town to find the perfect ball gown and mask to hide your identity. You were excited for the upcoming event, almost putting it above everything, except your feelings for him. You wondered if he would be attending the ball too. Who was he? It was the Wanderer; he was your partner for a big project within the Akademiya. During the time you both were working together, you two managed to grow closer, becoming friends, with residual feelings lingering on your side. At first, all you could think about was how insufferable he was and how you would have wished to get another partner. However, as time went on, all you could think about was how grateful you were to have him as your partner and how you couldn’t go a day without him being around. Hence, to why you were wondering if he would be at the ball. Everyone in Sumeru was supposed to be at the ball; that’s why you were hoping he would be too. You hadn’t seen the Indigo hair boy since the Dendro Archon’s announcement. It was as if he had disappeared without saying a word. You went asking around, during the time of his disappearance, from people in the Akademiya to people you would meet on the street, but no luck. The boy was gone from your sight.

The day of the ball came, and you had rushed home early to get ready. Your theme for the ball was to have something inspired by the stars. You had picked out a gorgeous blue-gray dress to wear to the ball. It was a sleeveless long gown with different sections of tulle decreasing as the gown went down. The top was corset-like, with the top part of it being the dress color and the bottom of it being embedded with small little stars. You did your hair as you planned and placed some small diamond stars on it. Your shoes were beautiful heels comparable to those of Cinderella, and then you put on your mask, the most important part of the ball. It was a white mask with outlines of blue around the eyeholes. It had blue embedded leaves on it with small pink stars on the corner, followed by pearls around and strings of gold at the end. You were all set to go to the ball; you felt content with your style choices. So, you really should be happy, but you left home with a heavy heart, wondering if you would find the Indigo eye boy today.

You had arrived at the ball, making your way through the palace doors. Walking in, you could see the archon mingling with her people, who seemed to be having a grand time. There was music blasting, and you could see the people dancing along. You then noticed a very familiar fox boy who had green hair leading back to his black roots talking with a white haired red-eyed male on the dance floor. You could hear one of them commenting on the other dance moves and the other saying to just go with it. You then saw the fox boy sigh and agree to dance. It was pretty easy to guess who those two were after hearing that conversation. Then, as you walked over to the buffet, you heard two men arguing. They were arguing about the architecture of the palace, with the blonde hair boy going on and on about the historical value while the gray hair boy brought up the other living situation. You did not want to get involved in this quarrel, so you continued walking until you found a balcony at the palace.

The balcony was peaceful and had a clear view of the stars, which were just what you wanted to see. I mean, after all, you had based your whole outfit on the stars. You were admiring the view when you saw something from the corner of your eye that caught your attention. An indigo-haired boy walked to stand beside you on the balcony. He wore an outfit inspired by the stars. In his hair were a star hair pin and gold-dangling star earrings. He wore a purple top with a star in the middle, and then it was as if two fabrics crossed his chest, one being white and the other a mixture of purple and black. His shorts were purple, with a white, thin rope going across with a dangling, small star attached. Speaking of stars, it was a beautiful mix of purple and gold with small stars spread across. It was easy to say that the boy was breathtaking. You were starstruck just looking at him. It was as if he was the brightest star in the world.

“I like your outfit.”

He turned to face you, flashing a mesmerizing smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“Thank you. Can I ask your name?”

“I can’t do that, mister; remember the rules of the ball?”

"Aha, smart girl; well, smart for a mortal.”

That word, "mortal," It sounded just like something the Wanderer would say. It would explain the man’s indigo hair and eyes that matched. But that’s just a theory; after all, you don’t know for sure if that was him. I mean, he's been missing, remember?

“Mortal? You sound like someone I know."

You paused, waiting to hear his reaction to your words. Maybe he’d flinch? Or you’d get a telltale sign it wasn’t him.

“I’m not sure what you're talking about, Y/N.”

You froze; he knew who you were! How? What gave it away? You, out of nerves, began to scrunch your nose as a way to further your thinking about what was going on. Thinking rationally, you had never met this man before, so how would he know who you are or how to recognize you? Having limited options, you decided to lie and see how far it would go. Maybe he was just senselessly guessing.

“That’s not who I am; you're wrong star boy.”

“Starboy, is it? Is that my new name? I’d like to believe that my worth is that much higher than a star, one that surpasses even the heavens themselves. Plus, I know it’s you, Y/N.”

“Once again, I’m not Y/N; I’m someone else, and you won’t know my identity, okay?"

Then the starboy next to you turned to face you, grabbing your hand in the matter, and spoke confidently with his words, so confident that after they were said, a pink blush spread across his face.

“I know your Y/N because of your mannerisms and tone of speech. Like how you scrunch your nose when you're nervous or use your hands a lot when you talk. It’s small things like that that I know your Y/N."

You were shocked. This was definitely someone you knew, but who? His hair matched that of the Wanderer, but he had been missing for a month; it couldn't possibly be him.

“Fine, I admit defeat, but you recognizing all that means you're definitely someone I know.”

"Well, that's for a mortal like you to find out."

He was cocky, making it seem like a challenge to find out his identity.

“Well, according to the rules of the ball, I can ask you questions about your identity. Isn't that correct?”

"I didn't know a mortal like you could read, but yes, that is correct.”

Choosing to ignore his insult, you thought carefully about what questions to ask him that could confirm his identity.

“My first question is, have I met you personally?”

He feigned innocence on the question.

“I mean maybe or maybe not. It’s up to you to find out Y/N.”

“Don’t call me that out loud; people aren't supposed to know others' identities.”

"Stargirl, it is then.”

"Well, then answer my question, for real this time.”

“Fine, I do know you, stargirl, quite well, actually.”

“My second question is, do you attend the Akademiya?”

“Nope, I’m not answering personal questions like that. That would make it easy for me to find out, and we don’t want that, do we? I won’t answer super personal questions like that, and you just wasted a question.”

“What? That’s not fair. I didn’t know.”

“That’s common sense, stargirl. But, since I’m so generous, I’ll give you five questions.”

Ugh. He was infuriating, but you had faith you could still do this.

“My third question is, why did you choose to center your outfit around the stars?”

“I believe the stars are capable of making great things happen, such as making wishes come true and bringing people together. Not that it’s any mortal like you’s business, but there is someone I’d like to be brought together with.”

He seemed shy saying this, but it was a step closer to his identity.

“Now, my fourth question: do you like cats?”

“I will admit, I do enjoy their company.”

Now it was time for your fifth and final question. It was this or nothing; you had to think carefully about what you would ask the male, and then you got it.

“Starboy, are you in love?”

“Love?”

“Are you in love with someone?”

“I’m in love with you, stargirl.”

Your heart stopped. What if this really was the Wanderer? He matches the answers to the questions you asked. But is the Wanderer in love with you the way you are with him? However, before you could respond to the boy, he ran off. You ran with all your might to catch up to him. He was only a few seconds ahead of you, which doesn't seem hard to catch up to, but with heels, it was. You were running and, at this point, shouting for him.

“Starboy! Come back”

No response.

“Please, listen to me!"

No response yet again.

He was already going down the stairs. You then had an idea. Well, a gamble, hoping it was true that he did love you as he said he did.

"Hey, Starboy, look up at me!"

You then waved your arms and jumped down the stairs, shutting your eyes and bracing for impact. You hoped this boy actually loves you enough to save you. Then you felt warmth; he had saved you. You were in his arms as he carried you bridal style.

“You idiot! What if I wasn't here to catch you or didn’t look back.”

“That was a gamble I was willing to take.”

"Well, don’t do that ever again. You're always doing dumb stuff like this at the Akademiya or when we go out to eat. Like that one time you fell into a river trying to save a cat or when you fell into a bookshelf trying to get a book you wanted me to try.”

He then swiftly covered his mouth, a red blush spreading across his face like fire.

“Wanderer?”

“No, that's not me; you must have confused me with someone else.”

“No, it is you. You're the only one who was around me at that time. It’s you, Wanderer; that’s your identity.”

"Maybe I am him, okay?”

You were right! You felt content knowing now that the boy you love, loves you back, but it begs the question. Why did he leave?

“Wanderer, why did you disappear for a month? You left me alone for a month without contact. It was so lonely, and so many bad thoughts ran through my head during that time.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I know my explanation might not help, but I do have one. You see, I have close relations with the Dendro archon, so for the month I was helping her set up for the ball. I meant to tell you; I just didn’t know how, and when I figured it out, I felt it was too late. So, I was just watching you from afar for a while. I’m really sorry, Y/N; I should’ve been better.”

“It’s okay; it just better not ever happen again.”

You chuckled at his response, then reached up to lift up his mask. You saw his gorgeous face; this was your indigo hair boy. You then broke out into a smile and lifted up your mask—not that it made a difference since he already knew who you were.

“Also, going back to your love confession earlier. I love you too, dummy. I have for a long time now.”

He was stunned that you had actually returned his feelings.

“You love me?”

“Yes, I do more than anything.”

“Y/N, there was another reason my outfit was star-themed; I wanted to match with you and hoped that us dressed as two stars would bring us together. Y/N, you're my star; you light up my world, and you have ever since you came into my life. I want to be with you forever, united as lovers, because I truly do love you.”

You felt starstruck by his love confession; it was so full of love.

“I want to be your lover too.”

“Then let’s make it official.”

He then turned, moving closer to you, and placed one hand on your cheek.

“May I?”

You nodded eagerly, excited for what was to come.

He then kissed you; it was the perfect moment, and you two could practically feel each other smiling. After a few minutes, he pulled away from you, smiling, and then back again, until you both ran out of breath. He then put you down from his arms and placed his hand into yours.

“Shall we get back to the ball?”

“Yes!.”

You both then walked back to the ball hand in hand, with a new love brought between you both by the stars.

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archduchessofnowhere · 1 month ago

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Queen Victoria to her daughter Crown Princess Victoria of Germany, on the engagement of Princess Stephanie of Belgium to Crown Prince Rudolf of Austria:

BUCKINGHAM PALACE, MARCH 12, 1880 On Tuesday 9th the Empress [Elisabeth] of Austria came and stopped for luncheon and was most amiable. She is a little aged, but still very handsome and graceful and distinguished looking and the figure beautiful, only her dress was so tight she could hardly move or sit down. Poor little Stephanie’s engagement took everyone by surprise including the Empress and Leopold of B [King of the Belgians, Stephanie's father]. The poor thing has been completely shut up—never seen anyone—never been to a dance or a play etc. and suddenly the C. Prince of Austria is brought, speaks to her and she is engaged and brought out!! It is a most wonderful arrangement but you like children’s engagements and so you won’t be so astonished.

Crown Princess Victoria's reply:

PEGLI, MARCH 15, 1880 (...) I decidedly think with you that dear little Stephanie’s marriage is very sudden, and taking such a great leap all of a sudden, is of course very trying to a young girl’s mental and moral development! Though I was engaged at 14—and there are many other examples of the same kind, yet in principle I am strongly against it and think it far better to be a little older, but what I always pleaded is that there are cases where peculiar circumstances make it advisable and desirable—and unavoidable. I have heard no details yet. I suppose the Crown Prince (who has been rather wild and flighty) was urged to marry and chose Stephanie young as she was. It will be a great trial to the poor dear child to be grown up on such short notice and engaged to a young man she does not know, and had never seen.

Queen Victoria's reply:

WINDSOR CASTLE, MARCH 22, 1880 (...) Neither Leopold B. or the Emperor of Austria knew anything of the Archduke Rudolf’s plans. It seems Stephanie was entirely his own choice. It is a great thing that the Emperor and Empress have at length allowed the marriage or rather the engagement to be announced, and I hope Willie [Prince Wilhelm, Crown Princess Victoria's son] will travel and see the world a little before he marries, which I trust will be next year. Those very long engagements are very trying and not very good and poor Victoria [Auguste Victoria of Schleswig-Holstein, Wilhelm's fiancée] will be 22 in October.

Fulford, Roger [ed.] (1981). Beloved mama: Private correspondence of Queen Victoria and the German Crown Princess, 1878-1885

Pictured: Princess Stephanie and Crown Prince Rudolf's engagement photograph, by Géruzet Frères, 1880 (left); Crown Princess Victoria of Germany, by Alexander Bassano, 1879 (right). Via Wikimedia Commons and the Royal Collection Trust.

#god stephanie looks so BABY in all her engagement pictures like she really was a child get her out of there!! she doesn't belong there!!!#also i find funny that while victoria did think that 16 was too young to get married she simultaneously thought 22 was too old lol #stephanie of belgium crown princess of austria #crown prince rudolf of austria #queen victoria of the united kingdom #empress victoria of germany #empress elisabeth of austria

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sweetheartmotives · 10 months ago

Note

saw the post of you asking people to request ideas to you, so I decided to try it. (first time requesting, advance apologies if it’s not that clear 😭)

is it possible for you to write a yandere prince x greedy noblewoman reader trope? You can make the setting as a ball, specifically for the prince to find a suitable partner. Think of it as like Cinderella, except reader joins the ball so that she can impress the prince and secure her spot as the future queen. Even after finding out that the prince took a little too much of a liking to her, she won’t panic or feel scared. Instead, she’ll be glad that the prince is obsessed with her. The prince on the other hand, wouldn’t mind if the reader was just using him to get what she wants. He’ll actually be more than happy to be used by her LMAO

Long story short, basically requesting Cinderella but the reader’s attitude is closer to the step-sisters (though smarter and more levelheaded) rather than Cinderella herself. The prince is just well… Yandere.

―✧˖° ♛ Yandere prince ♛ °˖✧―

Desc and possible Cw: Yandere themes, reader is kinda [very] mean, and yan!prince is basically a doormat for you.

Let me know if I missed any!

As a noblewoman, you feel that your job is to marry into money and lead a luxurious life. You were born to be a queen, nothing less. And today, on this very day, you are becoming what you have always deserved: a queen! You're dressed in a dazzling gown and sparkling heels after crying to some old woman who claimed to be your ‘fairy godmother’ or something. You don't know, and you don't care! You want to marry the damn prince, become his queen, and live a secure, luxurious lifestyle! After you shed a few more fake tears, your ‘fairy godmother’ turned a pumpkin into a carriage, and those 3 rats you have running around your room into horses while repeating ‘Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo’ over and over again, it was really alarming! Does she have dementia or something? Poor her. Oh well, it isn't your problem! Now that you have your carriage, you can go secure your spot as the queen! Have fun granny, hope you get back to bed soon!

As the carriage rolled up to the front of the palace, the horses' hoofbeats were deafeningly loud in the silence of the night. You felt your heart racing—this was it. You take a deep breath and emerge from the carriage, stepping out of it, your heels clanking against the ground underneath. You smoothed down your dress, making yourself look presentable. You walked into the palace, practically running to the ballroom! As soon as you get there, you make yourself look like a goddess on earth while walking in. And just as you expected, the prince ate it UP! You can't help but smirk as he makes his way through the crowd of women to see you.

The prince stops in front of you, his eyes meeting yours. "M’lady," he said, bowing deeply and smirking slightly.

"Your Highness," you reply, smiling in return.

"May I have the honor of this dance?" he asks, extending his hand.

You nod and take his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. You follow him onto the dance floor. The music was already playing—a slow tempo that matched the mood perfectly. You moved together as one, your bodies flowing smoothly in time with the beat.

As they danced, the noblewoman [you] couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within her. Was this it? Was it really that easy? How predictable, this really was perfe-

…

Why is his grip so tight? Why is he holding you so.. possessively?

…

Oh well, this just sets in stone how well your chances are at becoming the queen. The life of luxury, here you come!

─────────────────────────────────

Welcome to the end credits! This is where I will give information on my new or previous yans!

Info about me personally, I'm very tired. I'm so sorry this was so short! I'll make a part two/remake for you and everyone to enjoy since this is basically a sample of what this could be. I hope you enjoy this part though, the remake will be even longer and even better! <3

I'm your first request? Like ever? Are you kidding me?? I am blushing and giggling. Thank you for trusting me enough for this, I hope I did somewhat well! I hope you enjoyed reading as I enjoyed writing! ^^

─────────────────────────────────

#Hi cherish!#yandere oc #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere prince #yandere male #male yandere #yandere scenario #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #x female reader #x fem!reader

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bakuliwrites · 1 year ago

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MC Regaining Little Memories From Objects Associate w/ M6

Hi everyone! Here is another one of my headcanons from my old blog. I think this one was a request I had gotten and I really enjoyed writing this one. It was a lot of fun to try to think up some meaningful objects and scenarios. Over time, I've been trying to post some of my old headcanons on to this blog, but I do have a lot of them up on my AO3, if you are curious!

You and Asra are tidying up the shop one day when you stumble upon a broom closet in the back that you've never noticed. Curious, you attempt to turn the door handle and fortuitously discover that it is unlocked.

The room is tiny, only big enough for you and the other objects inside. There are a few random boxes of trinkets and old ingredients, but what really catches your attention is the dress in the far corner, worn by a slightly eerie, faceless mannequin.

The dress is floaty, billowing. Your fingers find the sleeves, the thin tulle delicate in your careful grasp. Even in the darkness of the closet, the dress seems to sparkle, the crystals bedazzling the neckline dancing jovially in the lamplight just outside. You've been so enamored with the dress, you hardly notice Asra's presence in the doorway behind you.

"You look beautiful, like a jellyfish floating in the gentle summer currents. Carefree and lovely," you whisper aloud. The words were familiar to you, but you couldn't quite place who had said them, or when. When you repeat them in your mind, it's Asra's voice that sounds them out. A flash of a grand party, a masquerade perhaps, dances across your vision. When you finally turn to greet Asra, you see he has tears in his eyes, reserved but joyful. He draws you into a warm embrace and something just clicks in your brain. Finally, you remember Asra and all he meant to you.

You're quietly reading one afternoon when Nadia enters the room and asks if she might play the organ for a bit. "If I'm bothering you, just say the word!" she offers, but you simply smile. You loved listening to her play, and you didn't get to hear it very often since she was usually busy.

Nadia's fingers begin skillfully dancing across the keys. She's merely warming up at first, which you still take delight in. Her talent shines through even in her simple practice exercises. The notes start to fade in the background as you settle back into your novel, finding yourself fully engrossed. Until you're suddenly drawn out of your concentration by the beginning of a song.

This song is different, though. Something about it is oddly familiar. Bittersweet, like a lost memory. The music swells, lilting and sprightly, before quieting into a melancholy hum. You suddenly find yourself overwhelmed with emotion, though you can't really place why. This music, it echoes through your mind like it once echoed through the halls of the palace, in a time you thought you'd long forgotten.

When Nadia finishes, she looks over to see you quickly wiping tears from your eyes. She opens her mouth to ask what's wrong, but you hush her with a smile. "It's been such a long time since you've played that for me," you whisper. Nadia beams knowingly, before setting off again to play for you like she used to all those years ago.

Back at Mazelinka's, you and Julian are rifling through stacks of his old papers, ones that you'd managed to pilfer from the palace. You've found nothing of any real use so far, but you have confidence that you might stumble across something.

While Julian is frantically scanning page after page, you find yourself growing still, fixating on just one of them. The edges are yellowed, frayed from water damage. But the handwriting is still legible (well, as legible as Julian's messy handwriting could possibly be). The script doesn't say anything important. It appears to just be a general note about the status of some test he was running, but it's what is written in the margins that catches your eye.

It's your handwriting, littered amongst tiny drawings of what you at first think are worms. But upon closer inspection, you see that you apparently had written, "Watch out! Getting bitten by a leech really sucks." You roll your eyes at how terrible that pun is, wondering what possessed you to write it in the first place, if that really was your handwriting. You grab some ink and a quill from your bag and start to scribble next to the writing. It's a dead ringer for your script.

You feel some happy tears sting your eyes, but when Julian asks you what's wrong, you break out into a wide smile. "You and your accursed leeches!" you exclaim, before bursting into laughter. He looks at you, a bit confused at first, before breaking down into giggles himself. Finally, he thinks, something you both remember.

You're enjoying a quiet afternoon at Portia's cottage, basking in the sunlight and sipping some tea. Portia is baking something delicious, her dress covered in flour. You offered to help, but she insists you relax. You've been hard at work these past few weeks and deserve a break.

While you're admiring a monarch butterfly that regally flits past the open window, you're hit by a sudden, strange feeling. A familiar scent wafts through the room, warm and sweet. You're practically salivating at the delightful smell. You look across the room to see Portia pulling out a light-golden cake from the oven. After she lets it cool, she brings it to the table and starts to slice into it.

Portia hands you a generous piece and offers to refresh your tea. As she's filling up your cup again, you dig into the freshly baked treat. As soon as it hits your tongue, you can taste the honey and the vanilla, comforting and cozy. It tastes like spring, like a bright memory.

You look up at Portia as she sets your tea down in front of you, your eyes full of wonder. "This is one of my favorites. How did you know?" you venture, but you already know the answer. She smiles cheekily at you. "Call it intuition," she winks. All you can do is smile, overjoyed that you reclaimed your memory of Portia's divine baking skills.

You enter Muriel's hut, soaking wet and seeking shelter from the sudden storm that raged outside. He quickly directs you to the warmth of his fireplace and gives you some dry clothes. They're much too big on you, but they'll do for now, while you wait for your own outfit to dry. Muriel exits the hut for a moment, just to bring the chickens into their shelter. As your eyes roam the room, they settle on an ornately carved mask sitting on the mantelpiece.

You rise, reaching up to grab the mask. It's beautiful, but something about it seems- familiar to you. Maybe it's pure coincidence that it resembles the animal you consider your familiar. Or maybe, there's a deeper meaning to it. It had clearly been carved with the utmost precision and care. Its colors were striking, but not gaudy. It was breathtaking.

As you turn it over in your hands, you notice some protection runes carved into the inside, just beneath the eye holes. It's like the sun suddenly broke through the storm clouds. Memories come flooding back to you. Masquerades, multiple masquerades. Asra is there, Muriel is- here, at the hut. Carving this mask, just for you.

Muriel returns, soaked now, as well. You whirl around to greet his hulking form, your brows furrowed with an emotion you can't quite place. He notices the mask in your hands and blushes a deep red, looking sheepishly away. You can't help but beam at this. "Thank you for holding onto this for me," you finally speak. He grunts a, "You're welcome," but you notice that he, too, is softly smiling.

You're sorting through a box of jewelry that Lucio's provided to you, attempting to find one that might go with your outfit. They're all his jewelry pieces, so most of them are a bit garish for your taste. But you need to select something if you're going to attend the masquerade with him that night. You pick past heavily bejeweled, oversized designer pieces, until your fingers clasp around a necklace that you could've sworn you've seen before.

The necklace is delicate, gold and studded with tiny diamonds and milky-white pearls. You hold it up against the lamplight and it glitters luminously. This is it. This is the necklace. Not only does it match your outfit's color scheme, but there's something about it that feels like it is fatefully yours.

"Are you almost ready?" Lucio whines, impatient and eager to get to the festivities. He freezes dead in his tracks when he sees what you're holding up. A blush creeps across his cheeks and he looks away, embarrassed. "Will you help me put this on?" you implore. After a moment, he hesitantly nods. He gently takes the necklace from you and unclasps it. Lucio takes his place behind you and you watch in the mirror as he draws it around your neck and fumbles with the clasp.

As he secures it to you, you're hit with a vision: someone coming up behind you at a masquerade, years ago. Deftly, they fasten the necklace around your neck. When you turn around to see who it could possibly be, you're greeted by an enigmatic figure, done up in golds and reds. Their impish smile and silver eyes are the only things visible behind their ostentatious mask. They bend down to place a kiss on the back of your hand before disappearing once again into the crowd. In the present moment, you whirl around to meet Lucio's eyes, eyes that are familiar from that masquerade so long ago.

#the arcana #asra alzanar #nadia satrinava #julian devorak #portia devorak #muriel of the kokhuri #lucio morgasson #count lucio #asra x mc #nadia x mc #julian x mc #portia x mc #muriel x mc #lucio x mc #arcana headcanons #the arcana headcanons #dani headcanons #my writing #fluff

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fandxmslxt69 · 1 year ago

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Loki (TV) - Speak Now(TV): Enchanted

Loki Laufeyson x f!asgardian!reader

Warnings: some swearing, few thoughts of insecurity, but that';s it. Bad writing lmao. horrible plot too. lazy makeouts too.

Synopsis: You escape to the royal gardens after a shitty start to the ball, but running into an enchanting stranger turns your night for the better. Based on Enchanted by Taylor Swift. Part of a series In The Works.

A/N: Wow this is so bad lmaooo I'll fix it another time but I'm posting it now so I can get into the schedule and be done with!! This is my little very rushed entry for @sarahscribbles Birthday Celebration I LOVE YOU SARAH and you deserve SO MUCH BETTER than this lmao i had so much more planned for this but sadly it all failed with having no wifi this entire vaca, so this is the best I can do. I do promise a part two some time though.

Tags: (I';m tagging everyone who asked to be tagged for this part AND part 2 so I have everyone in one place <3) @divine-knight-hand @the-fox-den @nyxlaufeyson @under00s616 @mischief2sarawr and ofc @sarahscribbles

Word count: 3.5k

There I was again tonight

Forcing laughter, faking smiles

Same old tired, lonely place

The night, in conclusion, was an utter failure. You had been truly excited as the weeks neared to tonight’s ball. You had hoped for an evening full of dancing and laughs, twirling around in the arms of a handsome guy and enjoying light conversation, maybe even some good food.

So far, the food was the only thing that held out.

You watched from your corner as pairs danced across the floor as music and easy chatter filled the room. Women in dresses of all colours of the rainbow, and men in nicely fitted suits and uniforms. Everyone wore masks, elegant and with elaborate designs that complemented each person’s attire. “This is a waste.” You grumbled to yourself as you tugged at your mask to adjust it in place.

“Perhaps,” One of your friend’s slid into the vacant seat beside you, face flushed from dancing. “You should go ask someone for a dance,” “What?” You snorted. “That’s an ugly look. It’ll seem like I’m desperate,”

“But you are,” She pointed out.

You rolled your eyes, picking at the plate of fruit delicacies in front of you. “It’s alright. I don’t feel like dancing anyway,” She raised an eyebrow, “Were you not talking about how excited you were to spend all night dancing just this morning?” You threw her a look, getting up without bothering to finish your plate. “I think I’ll go for a walk in the gardens,” You said as you quickly fled out of the room.

Being out of the stuffed ballroom should have made you feel better, but you couldn’t help but feel as if you were still caged.

Tonight was meant to be fun. It was meant to be an opportunity. For..for socialising, and meeting people, and making friends and, funnily you thought, perhaps meet someone for the night.

Instead, you walked further through the gardens, trying to ignore all the giggles you heard from lovesick couples as you passed them. When you got further enough from the palace, you slipped off your mask, huffing as you carefully sat down in the wide fields, surrounded by blooming flowers and trees basking in the moonlight.

You took a deep breath, trying to ease the sense of disappointment that grew like an ugly beast in your chest. Caught up in your feelings, you hadn’t realised someone snuck up on you until you heard a soft crunch from behind you. Your head whipped around immediately, assuming a danger perhaps, until your eyes fell on the man.

Good gods.

The man smiled briefly, his mask dangling from his fingers as he seemed to look you over. His hair rested in dark curls on his shoulders, and with the way the moon peeked lightly through the trees and shone on him, he looked heavenly, with a perfect jawline and flawless skin, cheekbones that looked sharp to cut, and eyes that shone with curiosity and mischief. He fit nicely into his suit, with a lean frame that filled the clothing perfectly.

He was, as mortals said, a work of art. A being artists and sculptures would surely sell their homes and families to try and capture his beauty.

I need to calm down.

But he’s gorgeous. There was no hiding it, and you were absolutely sure you stared too long because he raised an eyebrow and the corner of his lips twitched upwards.

Walls of insincerity, shifting eyes and vacancy

Vanished when I saw your face

All I can say is, it was enchanting to meet you

“Sorry,” You muttered quickly, turning your head back to stare holes at the vast openings of the field. This had to be a joke, but a little part of your brain couldn’t help but get excited.

Handsome young man, a moonlit gorgeous garden, at a ball.

Could it get any more romantic?

But that was stupid- the man probably found you a little pathetic, out here all alone rather than enjoying the ball. And you firmly reminded yourself that there would be no making out and naked activities in the royal gardens. And maybe your friend sent him, and if you were too eager you’d seem truly desperate and it would be oh so humiliating and you’d never be able to show your face again in public and-

“I see you’ve found my secret place,” His voice interrupted your spiral of thoughts.

“Sorry,” You said quickly again. “I wasn’t aware that people could own areas of the royal garden,” You covered your hand with your mouth in horror, refusing to look at the man behind you.

What the fuck was that?

It was quiet and then you heard him chuckle, as if amused by such a rude remark. He made his way to another part of the garden and took a seat. “You’re right, forgive me, it is open to everyone during the balls,”

You didn’t answer him, or even acknowledge him. Your cheeks were blazing red with horror. From the corner of your eye, you could see him sitting under a tree a little away from you, head ducked low as he…

Is that a book? Is he reading? At a ball?

You looked behind you to the sound of the light music and chatter coming from the palace, then back at the man by the tree. “Why aren’t you inside?”

“Why aren’t you inside?” He replied, not even looking up from his book.

“I asked first,”

He looked up slightly then, raising a perfect eyebrow. So? He challenged silently.

You rolled your eyes, turning away from him to watch the leaves dance lazily in the evening breeze. You folded and unfolded your hands in your lap. “I got bored of dancing,” Right.

He didn’t answer right away, a few beats passed as soft music and gentle wind filled the space. Then, he said slowly, as if entertained by all this, “Liar,”

Your head whirled back to stare at him. “Excuse me?” “Liar,” He said, shrugging like it’s no big deal.

“You’re calling me a liar?” “Is there anyone else here to call a liar?” You could see the small twitch of his lips, and how a little smirk forms as he watches you.

Shit. You had to fight down your own little smile. Perhaps he’s an ass, and maybe a little suspicious- but he’s got a lot more banter and brain in him than everyone else back in the ballroom.

“And why are you calling me a liar?”

“Because,” He closed his book dramatically, leaning forward and you could feel trouble radiating off of him. “No one comes to a royal ball to ‘get bored of dancing’,”

“You don’t know that,” “I absolutely do. It’s the biggest event of the year, people come specifically prepared to dance until they can’t feel their feet,” “Fine,” You huffed. “It was getting stuffy, and I was tired of all the war talk and gossip, so I came out here for fresh air,”

Again, that stupid smirk. “You’re lying,” He said in an overly annoying sing-song voice. “I’m not!” You glared at him. “You are horribly rude,”

“Yet you find it amusing,” “I absolutely don’t,” Childishly, you stuck your tongue out at him, and he laughed, throwing his head back lightly and filling the space between you with such a warm, delightful sound.

The playful conversation starts

Counter all your quick remarks

Like passing notes in secrecy

You really couldn’t stop the smile that broke across your face. “Alright then, if you suddenly know everything, why do you think I’m out here?” You asked after his laughter died down.

“Hm…” He tapped a finger to his chin. “No one wanted to dance with you,” You gasped loudly. “Are you calling me undesirable?” “No m’lady,” He had that awfully cute smile again. “You said that, I just said I think no one wants to dance with you,”

You shook your head. “You are unbelievable! You know what, you’re terrible company,” He shrugged. “Then go back inside, perhaps get a chance to dance with the prince,” He said it easily, like he could care less if you stayed or left, but you had the strange feeling that he was challenging you to stay.

You hummed, pretending to think it over. “You know what, I don’t want to go inside,” “But I thought I was terrible company?” “You are,” You smiled innocently. “But I like the gardens,” He’s too funny to pass up on.

“Or perhaps you like me,” He had that shit-eating grin, and something in your chest started tingling, secretly hoping you could get more of his smiles. “Besides, you’ll pass up the chance to catch the crown prince’s attention just to sit in some garden?” “Blond isn’t really my type,” Stop talking stop talking stop talking.

He frowned, staring at you weirdly, clearly taken aback but such a dumb statement.

“Blond…isn’t your type,” He repeated, and you simply nodded. “So…you’d give up the chance at marrying the next ruler of this realm…because he’s blond,” “Exactly,” Like it made perfect sense. “What can I say? It’s less competition for the other women. I’m being kind,”

“You’re insane,”

“You asked!”

“Yes but come on, it’s the crown prince,” He raised an eyebrow. “Would you rather marry the farmer’s son? The baker boy, perhaps?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, stupid. There’s other royalty around, obviously. But it’s not like anyone has a chance,” “Other royalty?” He got up then, gracefully making his way over with his book and mask in hand. He sat down beside you. “Do indulge me, what other royalty is there?” Holy. Shit.

It took you a second to properly process his question. Maybe you lacked romance in your life, maybe you were too isolated, or maybe you were just really desperate for some decent conversation tonight, but you felt like you were losing your everloving mind.

He was breathtaking. You thought from afar he was beautiful, but now this close? You felt the air die in your throat as you properly looked over his face, your eyes catching on every detail.

His sharp angles.

The exact green of his eyes- emerald, pretty much identical to the jewel.

And the way he looked when the light shine of the moon hit his face? And the wind gently combed through his hair? He looked heavenly.

Godly, even.

And it was enchanting to meet you

All I can say is, I was enchanted to meet you

You were definitely staring (again) and he turned to look at you, those pretty lips forming another stupid smirk. “Yes?” You looked away. “Nothing. What was the question?”

He chuckled. “What other royalty is there?” “Oh, yes,” You frowned. “Are you new around here?” “No, why?” “There’s two princes. Prince Thor, and prince Loki,” “Ah right,” He pursed his lips. “But only one is looking for a bride,” “Yes well, all princes must eventually find a partner, no?” He shrugged. “I suppose so. So, if you won’t go for the blond, you’ll go for his brother? Woo him with your snarky comments and strange conversation habits?”

You smacked his arm lightly. “You really do not know how to talk to a lady. And no one ever said I’m “going for” anyone’s brother. I don’t want to marry a prince,” “That is the biggest lie I have ever heard,” He pointed at you accusingly. “Everyone wants to marry royalty,”

“Nope,” You shook your head. “Not me,” But you could tell from the way his eyes shone with mischief and the smile on his lips that he could so easily read through you.

“So you don’t have epic fantasy daydreams about marrying a handsome prince and gaining status, riches and power and living in the palace? Absolutely none about becoming royalty of Asgard? Nothing?”

“Weeellll,” You smiled wide. “Perhaps,” “Was he blond, your prince?” “I just told you, I’m not into blonds,” He nodded, like this was absolutely serious and he was understanding it better. “Right, so you had dreams about prince Loki then,” “What?!” Your eyes widened. “I didn’t say that!” “You hinted at it,” He pointed out.

“You- I did not! You are so arrogant, thinking you know everything!” You glared at him, face flushed from his accusation. I don’t even know why I’m even having this conversation with a strange man I met less than 10 minutes ago,” You plucked a flower from nearby and started plucking off the petals one by one, watching them slowly fall onto your skirt. “You think you’re so smart and you make horrible accusations-” “Why are you getting so defensive?” He sounded amused by this.

“I’m not!” You definitely were. “You’re just getting on my nerve,” You turned to glare at him again, but he had a funny look on his face, he didn’t even look upset, or confused, or insulted. He was simply…..looking at you. “I think you need to work on your manners,” “And I think you’re beautiful,” He said suddenly as he leaned in, the words a soft whisper, a secret shared between two strangers hidden away from the world.

You felt your face heat up, and your heart started beating faster. A swarm of butterflies erupted in your stomach, and you suddenly had the urge to fall back and kick your feet in the air while giggling.

Oh. Oh. Oh.

“Oh..um, oh,” You laughed nervously, looking down shyly. But you could still feel his eyes on you, his face close enough that you can see his bottom lashes brush his cheek lightly, and the small movements of his face. “Thank...you. Thank you,” You swallowed hard. “You’re…uh, really beautiful too,” You rushed the words out. You looked up a little to see his green eyes widened a fraction, a little smile tugging at his lips, and then the faintest colour red dusting his cheeks.

“Thank you,”

You nodded dumbly and looked away again, biting your lip to keep the laugh bubbling inside of you to stay down.

“What’s so funny?” He whispered.

Fuuck. You could feel yourself panic a little. He was so close. So pretty too. How could a man be so pretty? He had to be magic, right? He’s too gorgeous to be anything less than ethereal.

“Nothing,” You paused, biting your lip harder before a smile broke across your face, and a light laugh escaped you. “Sorry, sorry nothing’s funny,” His face broke into a smile. “You know, it’s rather rude to laugh at someone and avoid eye contact. It insinuates that you’re laughing at me,” His tone was teasing.

“I’m not!” You laughed again, shaking your head. “I’m not. Laughing at you, that is,” “Then look at me,” His finger lifted your chin up, and you sucked in a breath at how close you were. A few hairs apart, his pretty eyes looking at you in a way that made your heart flutter and insides melt to goo. And that smile.

You felt your chest squeeze with a sense of familiarity. That smile…it’s familiar, like you’ve seen it before a million times but yet, you can’t place where.

“I…” You started, and his eyes fell to your lips. “I want to kiss you,” He declared suddenly, and you swore the earth danced faster.

“Kiss me then,” You replied, and just as fast, his lips fell lazily to yours.

This night is sparkling, don’t you let it go

I’m wonderstruck, blushing all the way home

There were no good enough words that could describe how his lips felt against yours. In the back of your mind, you grabbed desperately at the languages you know, mortal and beyond, to find something to put this in words, a phrase, a string of letters, to explain the feeling of melting completely at his touch.

His soft lips moved slowly against yours, his hand moved up to cup the side of your face and pull you closer. It wasn’t a heated or lustful kiss, nor overly passionate. More of…a gentle caress, a lazy press of plush lips against yours in a pretty garden under the moonlight. He pulled away just as fast, his eyes searched your face.

You were…breathless. It was the most simple kiss and yet, it seemed to have turned your world upside down. Your mind was empty, yet at the same time it spun a million miles an hour but with no coherent things.

Just the thought of him. His lips. His kiss. His pretty eyes and perfect face and gentle hands. Your heart stuttered. You couldn’t help but think, if you went a lifetime without another kiss like that? You might go insane. You’d rather him kill you. Death would be better, more merciful than knowing you’d never experience this again.

There it was.

“Ya’aburnee,” You muttered softly, and when his eyes snapped up from staring at your lips to your eyes, you realised you said that out loud.

“What?” “Nothing,” You shook your head. “Nothing,” “Not nothing,” He moved closer, your knees now touching and you felt the renewed need to kiss him. “What did you say?” “A word,” Your eyes fell to his lips.

“Mm,” He leaned in, eyes fluttering shut and brushing his lips against yours. “What does it mean?” “Um,” You felt a hazy rush course through you, and you couldn’t form proper words. “I don’t know,” You lied quickly, chasing after his lips.

A look flashed across his face, as if he knew you were lying, before it disappeared. He pressed his lips against yours again and you sighed happily. He kissed you deeper, his tongue slipping into your mouth and suddenly, you were both all over each other.

He pulled you onto his lap, your dress bunching up at your thighs as you straddled him, your kisses growing sloppy as your tongues tangled together and your breathing got heavier and turned into heated pants. His hands tugged at your hair, and yours ran through his soft curls, making their way down over his shoulders and down his chest, searching and feeling the clearly built body underneath.

You pulled away after a few minutes, eyes searching his face. His now slightly bruised, and the flush of his cheeks and the wildness of his eyes. He smiled softly and your heart did another flip. He opened his mouth to say something before snapping it shut, a frown forming on his face as his eyes wandered to stare behind you.

You shifted around to turn. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” His hands fell to your hips. “Just…do you hear that?”

You frowned then too, straining your ears to listen.

“No…? What are we-...oh.” You heard the soft ticking of the palace clock, and the soft slow instrumental signalling the last dance of the night. “Oh. I guess we lost track of the hour,” He hummed. “Yes, it does seem so,” He paused, as if thinking something over before smiling. “Dance with me,”

Your eyes widened. “What?” “Dance with me,” He repeated again. “You didn’t get a dance tonight, did you? Well, let’s fix it.” “But we’re all the way out here,” You stated dumbly.

He raised a perfect eyebrow. “And?” “I-...well…I mean-...” He stared at you intensely, his emerald eyes searching your face. You sighed, shaking your head. “Okay,” You finally gave in, because with the way he looked at you there was no way you could’ve said no anyway.

You got up off of him, dusting off your dress and patting back into place. When he got up and you caught his face in the light of the moon, your heart soared at the smudges of lipstick on his lips and on the corners, you couldn’t help but give a satisfied smile. His hair fell in messy curls now and he needed a minute to adjust his suit.

You softly patted down your hair, trying to fix the hair do and your appearance despite the lack of mirrors.

He took a step towards you, holding out his hand. You took it and he pulled you flush against him and you had to strain your neck full up to meet his eyes. He grinned that same wicked smile and placed a hand on your waist as he carefully began dancing through the music with you.

It was a magical experience, to be in this gorgeous garden and have the chance to dance away under the stars with a beautiful stranger. It felt straight out of a fairy tale.

All too soon, the music faded and you could hear the faint sounds of clapping and cheers from the party guests. You looked around, then back up at your pretty stranger with a small smile. “That was fun,” You whispered, as if scared that too loud of a noise would shatter this delicate moment.

“Mm, very much,” He smiled back softly, his other hand dropping to rest on your hips. He leaned down, his lips ghosting over yours and you felt that lazy hazy cloud over you again. “We should get back,” He mumbled between kisses.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and pressing your lips to his. His smell was intoxicating, and the feel of him so close made you dizzy. “We should,” You muttered, before kissing him again. He fumbled with the fabric of your dress, but before he could even think of getting further you pulled away quickly, straining your ears to hear the far away noise of horses and loud chatter.

Right. End of party. Oh god.

You looked back at him, a mournful ache coursing through you. “I have to get back,” He frowned. “What? Why? Stay here,” He pulled you closer but you only shook your head. “I can’t! I came with my family, they’ll be looking for me soon,” You reluctantly detached yourself from him and quickly worked to fix yourself up. He looked like he was about to argue, but he simply nodded. “Very well. I’ll…walk you back?” You grinned and nodded back. “Thank you,” You quickly grabbed your discarded purse and mask before linking your arm to his as he began to lead the way back, his mask swaying back and forth in his free hand. You snuck a few glances at him as you neared the palace, and you swore in the light of the surrounding palace area he seemed to almost…stiffen, and something slipped over his face. He looked so damn familiar, you cursed yourself for not being able to piece it together properly. You still felt dizzy from the eventful evening, and who could blame you?

When you made it to the carriages and turned to face him, smiling a little nervously. “Bye I guess,” A small smile ghosted over his lips as he let go of your arm, his hands now resting behind his back as he stood in all his beautiful glory. You basked in his beauty for a few seconds more, before something in your mind clicked.

There’s no fucking way. Your eyes widened, but you tried to keep your mind from spinning out of control. The way he stood now, the expression on his face- empty- but with eyes as wild as a storm, no wonder you thought he looked familiar. He held himself like royalty, he was regal and elegant and majestic in a way no other person could ever be.

He was, in every sense, magical.

You felt…enchanted by his presence, and you were sure you were staring.

You swallowed hard, mentally calming yourself down from the fact that you’ll probably never experience this again.

“Thank you for the dance, your highness,” You said as quickly and politely as possible. You caught sight of the way his eyes widened and his expression went from emotionless to absolute shock. You turned around and practically ran for your life towards your carriage, already spotting your friends waiting by.

As you got into the carriage, greeting your friends and ignoring their very obvious questions, you felt a pang of sadness hit through you at the thought of the night ending, but then a bit of joy, because you just got to dance with the prince, and nothing would get more magical or enchanting than that.

I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew

I was enchanted to meet you

#loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki fluff #Loki (TV)#Loki (Taylor's Version)#<- YES thats the name of the series now idc??? STAY TUNED FOR MOREE <3

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noxturnalnymph · 1 year ago

Text

PLENTY OF TIME

(HB x Tommy) (3.8K of new story)

CrackFic based on the @gracieispunk HBF!Joel series (that I am FUCKING OBSESSED with). HB (reader's husband) x Tommy Miller

**CHECK OUT THE NEWEST STORY IN THE HBF-VERSE FAKE BLOOD**

The moodboard represents MY head-canons and ONLY MY head-canons. Picture HB however you want!! (not you @strang3lov3 or @sr-lrn)

A/N & Warnings: I have some more of my own personal head-canons at the bottom of this fic. You can read them before, or after, or not at all. Please be aware this is MLM (Unprotected PinA, Oral M to M, come swallowing). If that isn’t your thing don’t read. I have never written MLM before so please be gentle with me. I appreciate your kindness.

Approved (and encouraged by) Gracie, but this IS NOT CANON

….(yet)

So this sordid little tale takes place during JEALOUS (please read that first). I’m not sure if Gracie meant to leave HB and Tommy alone in that hotel room for HOURS….. But somewhere deep inside her mind palace (lurking along the back corridors of the White Lotus)...... HB made sure that’s exactly what happened.

TEXT IN PINK IS PART OF JEALOUS - WRITTEN BY @gracieispunk

Your husband -HB- took Joel, Tommy, and all the guys, on a business trip for an architecture seminar.

Of course they didn’t have to come, but he insisted.

He who currently stands at the bar with Tommy, absolutely shit faced.

Joel’s other work friends hover around with the women they brought with them on the trip. Whether it’s their wives, girlfriends, or someone they met last week. Everyone is relaxed, despite the music thumping loud. Chatting and casually drinking beers, none of them as drunk as HB - who’s the only one who has to be up in less than 6 hours.

You stand in a short floral dress, your elbow perched on the table you’re seated at, your head in your hand. You pout as you sip your beer, because you rather be up in your hotel room with your book.

You try not to pout more as you watch Joel grind into another woman while they dance.

HB had drunkenly kissed you earlier and Joel wasn’t happy to witness that. Finding his revenge in one of the wives friends, who had supposedly been brought just for him.

He put the moves on her fast, laughing, and winking - and making you extremely jealous over a man that was indeed not your husband.

Joel looks over at you as he dances with her, raising his brows as his hands wander up the sides of her thighs like they do yours. You watch his hands and you can almost feel him on your legs instead.

It makes your stomach turn but you can’t stop watching. That is until Tommy gets your attention. He’s lugging a drunk HB over his shoulder.

“Think I’m gonna tuck this one in,” Tommy yells over the music.

You smile and nod before turning to HB who can’t even keep his eyes from rolling. You hold his face in your hand and completely miss the look of contempt Joel gives you, when he sees.

You lightly smack HB’s face and there’s hardly any response. You nod to Tommy to take him away and put him to bed.

Tommy drags HB into the elevator, the young couples already in it making room for them at the back. The other couples get off on the 3rd floor and Tommy shuffles HB off his shoulder for the remainder of the ride. HB stands up straight and stretches his back, all pretense gone, popping his neck and lowly groaning in the process.

“Took you long enough,” Tommy mutters. “Thought we were gonna be down there all fuckin’ night.” He crosses his arms, clearly pissed off.

“Relax, would ya?” HB reaches his hand to squeeze Tommy’s shoulder, lingering his touch. “Had to wait for the right time to get outta there.”

Tommy scoffs as the elevator dings, signaling the top floor arrival. HB squeezes Tommy’s shoulder harder and uses the grip to guide him out of the elevator and down the hall towards his room.

Once inside, HB stops just outside the bathroom and toes off his shoes. Tommy walks further into the large suite and sits down on the bed, shuffling off his shoes and socks and then moving quickly to unbutton his shirt. HB approaches him and grabs his hands, stalling his movements.

“Quit rushin’. I promise we’ve got time.”

“How can you be so sure?” Tommy looks up at him, brow still furrowed in frustration. HB runs his thumb across Tommy’s chin, sliding his palm across his stubbled-cheek and back into the hair on the side of his head, tugging lightly as he drags his fingers through it.

HB places his palms on top of Tommy’s thighs and lowers himself between the other man’s spread legs. Once on his knees he continues the slow unbuttoning of Tommy’s shirt, leaning forward to intermittently place gentle kisses on the edge of Tommy’s jaw. Tommy closes his eyes and breathes deeply, tension in his shoulders visibly relaxing.

“Everyone’s pretty preoccupied,” he hums, not revealing any of his secrets. He knows Tommy was expecting more alone time together tonight, but he had to put the work in to make sure they would remain uninterrupted. He also knows that the kisses he laid all over his beautiful young wife’s face hours ago began a chain reaction.

He sat back and watched the dominoes fall, planted at the bar with Tommy all night pretending to get drunker and drunker. Watching Joel grope his little date (that HB had insisted be invited), and observing the way his own wife’s mood grew more and more sour. Finally, when she and Joel couldn’t keep their eyes off each other, he knew that he and Tommy wouldn’t be missed.

His buttons undone, Tommy pushes the shirt off his shoulders and yanks the cuffs over his hands, tossing the shirt towards the foot of the bed. Impatiently, he grabs at his undershirt with one hand and it joins the other clothes on the floor. He reaches for HB’s already-loosened tie but his hand is slapped away.

HB pushes his hand flat on Tommy’s chest, guiding him to lay back on the mattress. He reaches for Tommy’s belt and in one fluid motion the buckle is undone, a swift jerk releases it from the loops on Tommy’s khakis. Tommy groans in anticipation, making HB smirk.

Tommy bucks his hips off the bed in anticipation, reaching down in his impatience to undo his own button and fly. They don’t get as much time like this together as they want, so they're often both eager, rushing to make each other come as quickly as possible with hands and mouths.

Not tonight. Tonight HB wants to take his time.

He runs his hands up Tommy’s torso and then back down to his hips, curling his hands into his trousers and pulling down. Tommy plants his feet on the ground and pushes his pelvis to the sky, allowing more freedom for HB to remove his pants and underwear together. As HB pulls them down Tommy’s legs he hooks his fingers in his socks as well, leaving Tommy completely bare.

Tommy throws his arm over his face, groaning again as the cold air from the room hits his flushed, leaking cock. Wasting no more time, HB leans forward, grabbing Tommy’s dick firmly at the base, and begins swirling his tongue around the foreskin-covered head.

After a few circles with his tongue he closes his lips around it, suckling gently and bobbing his head very slightly up and down. He begins to firmly but slowly pump his hand up and down the shaft, his grip gliding smoothly as Tommy’s velvety skin slides up and down underneath his fist.

Ignoring Tommy’s increasing mewls of pleasure, HB returns to running his tongue along the head, slipping his tongue under the skin. He glides it around the ridge and swipes it across the slit, licking up the precome steadily leaking out. Tommy seems to grow even harder under his attention, his cock now dark red and straining towards the sky.

HB gently pulls his fist down the shaft, dragging on the skin to reveal more of the head. The sensitive underside of Tommy’s cock now exposed, HB sticks his tongue out of his mouth and gently taps that part of Tommy’s cock against it. The soft, wet slapping noises are barely audible over Tommy’s whines.

HB shifts his body, ignoring his own painfully hardening cock in favor of paying attention to the gorgeous man laid out in front of him. Still gripping the shaft, he alternates rubbing the frenulum side to side with his tongue, and taking him into his mouth and closing his lips around him. Each time he takes Tommy into his mouth he swallows him down further.

With his free hand HB guides Tommy’s one thigh up, resting his foot on the edge of the bed. Tommy moves his other leg up on his own, opening himself up wide for HB between his legs. Not stopping what his right hand and mouth are doing, HB cups Tommy’s balls with his left hand, gently rolling them, applying light pressure to them, and tugging them ever so slightly.

Tommy’s arm is still laid across his face, working to muffle his moans. HB reaches up with his left hand and pushes Tommy’s arm off his face. He stretches to touch Tommy’s face, dragging his fingers down over his nose and slipping his index finger into Tommy’s mouth. Tommy begins to suck on HB’s finger, mimicking the rolling tongue movements he feels being done to him.

When Tommy releases HB’s finger he brings it back down to the apex of Tommy’s legs. HB removes his mouth from Tommy’s cock and lowers his mouth to his balls. He begins to lick each one thoroughly before beginning to gently suckle at them, alternating back and forth. Eventually he takes one at a time into his mouth, rolling his tongue over them and letting them bob around gently inside.

When Tommy’s balls are in HB’s mouth, lifted and out of the way, HB takes his spit-slicked finger and begins sliding it along the space behind Tommy’s balls. Tommy scrabbles to grab a pillow and covers his face with it just as a loud, wanton moan releases from his mouth. HB lets a low moan out himself, vibrating Tommy’s balls in his mouth, sending him further into ecstasy.

HB continues his ministrations, moving his finger back just a bit further and pressing against the tight ring of muscle. He dips his head down and begins to lap his tongue wetly along the area he just trailed his finger, letting Tommy’s noises guide him. Lazily pumping his fist over Tommy’s dick, he draws swirls and circles with the tip of his tongue along Tommy’s perineum and over his puckered hole.

Tommy is now incoherently babbling into the pillow nonstop as HB flicks his tongue back and forth, up and down. HB is waiting and he knows he won’t have to wait much longer. Almost as if on cue, Tommy throws the pillow off his face and keens the word please, his eyes scrunched closed and his face contorted as if in pain.

HB raises his face up and grips Tommy’s cock extra firm, making Tommy sit up on his elbows and suck a breath through his teeth. His eyes meet HB’s and then HB growls out just loud enough for Tommy to hear over his own panting breaths.

“Give it to me.”

Tommy’s head lolls back.

“I wanna taste it,” HB adds before he opens wide and swallows Tommy’s cock down to the base.

Tommy’s hand immediately flies to the back of HB’s head, threading through his silver hair. HB pushes his finger against Tommy’s tight hole, inserting his finger to the halfway point. HB begins to swallow, knowing the sensations on Tommy’s over-sensitive cockhead are going to send him over the edge.

He can feel Tommy’s balls tighten up and he pushes his finger in knuckle deep as Tommy’s cock begins to throb, releasing his hot spend down HB’s throat. HB can hear Tommy’s muffled groans as he swallows down everything Tommy is giving him. HB hums, coaxing him through it all until Tommy stops convulsing and then he gently pulls his finger out from Tommy’s clamping grip.

He pulls his mouth off Tommy’s softening dick, and wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his arm, still fully clothed. He stands up, his tall figure towering over the bed.

Tommy sits up and begins to hastily undo HB’s trousers, once the zipper is unzipped he quickly moves on and begins to pluck the buttons undone going up his shirt. HB clutches Tommy’s hands in his own once again, stopping him. He shakes his head slightly, releasing Tommy’s hands before stepping back and resuming the unbuttoning himself, but slower.

“I already told ya, we got plenty of time.”

Now he draws it out on purpose, lazily drawing his tie down his chest, letting the skinny end pull from the knot, tugging it from his neck. He delicately eases his now open shirt off his shoulders, dragging it down his toned arms. Plucking the cuffs over his fists he walks over to the chair in the corner, making a show of gently laying the shirt and tie over the back of the seat. His trousers follow, folded over the chair as well.

Tommy rolls his eyes but HB isn’t finished, as he walks around the room in only his underwear and socks, bending over to retrieve Tommy’s discarded clothes one by one. He gives them the same treatment, shaking them out and folding them over the back of the chair with his own.

He goes back to Tommy, sitting at the edge of the bed again, and shuffles in close between the man’s legs, pressing his covered erection up against Tommy’s cheek. Tommy wraps his hands around the back of HB’s thighs, squeezing the flesh there and pulling him tighter to his face.

Tommy reaches down and takes HB’s socks off one by one, discarding them where he stands. Then he reaches up to the waistband of HB’s boxer briefs and hooks his fingers in, pulling them down torturously slowly, while tilting his head back and keeping eye contact with a grinning HB. Tommy leaves them to pool at HB’s feet and turns his attention back to HB’s cock in his face.

HB watches Tommy’s face, always so expressive when he looks at his cock. HB is significantly longer than average, not overly girthy, but proportional. He keeps his pubic hair trimmed short and his balls and ass waxed clean. He’s been told by several lovers how impressive it all looks, including by Tommy (and by his wife back when they started dating).

Tommy grips HB’s ass and pushes him forward, mouth open to receive his huge straining erection. HB would love to push it deep into Tommy’s warm, wet, waiting mouth. But instead he stills his forward movement, pushing back against Tommy’s gripping hands. Tommy looks up immediately, concern etched across his face.

“I have something else in mind,” HB whispers, taking Tommy’s face in his hands.

Tommy’s brows knit together. HB reaches over to the nightstand and opens the drawer, pulling out a small bottle of Astroglide. Tommy’s eyes widen when they land on the small, purple-capped bottle. He scrunches his brows and groans.

“I don’t think we have-”

Shhh Shhhhhh, HB silences him with a finger over his lips. “Don’t you worry about anyone but us.”

HB grabs one of Tommy’s hands off his bare ass and squirts some of the lube into his palm. He guides Tommy’s hand to him and lets him spread it over his shaft, smoothly jerking his long-ignored cock. His eyes close and his head falls forward at the sensation of finally having attention paid to him, dark and dripping, straining for relief.

HB revels in the attention for a moment. He lets Tommy tug firmly on him, plant kisses along his hip, grab handfuls of his ass with his other hand. He spends so much time in his own head, so much time on pleasing his clients, so much time planning his next project. When he does get to blow off steam he tends to do so in a selfish, spectacular, explosive fashion.

This trip was supposed to be just him, attending a conference as the keynote speaker. He would have been making and watching presentations all day, schmoozing with bigger firms at the hotel bar, and answering the same goddamn questions over and over. His wife, who he knew was proud of him, asked to come along and help celebrate him. Maybe part of her was trying to rekindle their long-lost closeness.

But once the idea was in his head to make this trip more personal than professional, he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to invite Tommy, only a little ashamed to admit that he would rather have him there than his wife. Once Tommy was on the guest list he knew he had to bring his wife, and of course, his wife’s ‘secret’ boyfriend - his best friend Joel. And then, knowing it couldn’t be just this awkward little foursome, he invited the rest of Joel’s crew and their partners along as well.

Why not? He had the fuckin’ money to pay for it all. When he told his wife he invited everyone she actually looked almost disappointed for a moment, a little wave of hurt flashing across her face. But he shrugged it off, knowing that having Joel there would be a comfort to her. Although he did feel a tiny pang of guilt when he told the other guys to have their wives bring a girl for Joel, especially knowing Joel really only had eyes for one girl - his girl.

But he needed the distraction. He needed attention paid elsewhere. He needed this.

This time alone with Tommy, time that they never got back home.

HB opens his eyes and guides Tommy to lay down on the bed again, this time laying over him, kissing his mouth, wet and wanting. They make out like that for a bit, rough stubble scraping against each other’s chins, Tommy’s one hand still moving up and down HB’s cock, HB’s hands tugging and pulling at Tommy’s shoulders and hips, fighting to pull him closer.

When HB pulls back they’re both panting and Tommy’s pupils are blown wide, desire painted on his face.

“Have you done this a lot?” Tommy whispers, breathless. He swallows past the lump in his throat, visibly nervous. They both know this is his first time.

“No,” HB lies. “Not a lot.”

It had been years, since before he got married, that he’d been with a man in this way. And he’d never fucked his wife like this, even though he thinks she might have wanted him to at one point. So he doesn’t feel like a complete shit when he tells Tommy this lie. The lie will soothe him. The lie will put him at ease. The lie will get him in faster.

HB stands up and encourages Tommy’s legs up on the bed again, spreading him open further with a gentle push on his knees. He grabs the bottle and dribbles lube onto Tommy’s dick, which is getting hard again already, watching it drip down his balls and towards his ass crack.

Tommy lifts his feet and moves his knees towards his head to open himself up even more, breathing deeply and holding back whines. Tossing the bottle aside, HB begins to massage the back of Tommy’s thighs, smoothing his hands over Tommy’s hips, pelvis, and cock, which hardens further under his touch. Gathering the lube, he massages Tommy’s balls, his ass, and dips his digits towards his end-goal.

Making sure his thumb is lubed up, he presses against Tommy’s taut hole once again, rubbing circles around it in tandem. He grabs at Tommy’s hands, encouraging the man to jerk his own dick while HB continues his attention lower.

“How does this feel?” HB asks, already aware of the answer.

Tommy manages a feeble whine in response, something that sounds like a drawn out yeah.

“Are you okay?”

Tommy’s head nods quickly, eyes clamped shut.

HB pushes his thumb in slowly, feeling Tommy try to relax and enjoy the sensation. HB begins to ease his thumb in and out while he slowly rolls the fingers of his other hand around the crown of his own cock. Watching Tommy laid out like a buffet, jerking his own dick with both hands and getting finger-fucked has HB ready to come just like this.

But he has plans to follow through on.

HB takes his thumb out and moves forward, replacing it at Tommy’s entrance with his cock. He meets Tommy’s eyes and sees his look of apprehension.

“Are you good?”

“Yeah. Just… N-nervous,” Tommy stutters out.

“We’ll go slow,” HB affirms, bending down to plant kisses on Tommy’s knees in the air.

HB guides himself forward, pushing on one of Tommy’s cheeks with his free hand to spread him, watching as the head enters him. Tommy makes an effort to breathe slowly and relax his body. They’ve talked about how good this can feel and Tommy has put his trust in HB for this moment.

HB stops with just the tip in and takes some deep breaths himself. He wants to make this last.

“Can you take more?” HB asks. Tommy nods in response. “Hey, talk to me.”

“Yeah,” Tommy pants. He continues brokenly, “It feels… good… keep going… please.”

HB rocks his hips forward genty, pushing himself in another couple inches. Before Tommy has ample time to react HB pulls back, watching the other man’s changing facial expressions. He slowly eases himself in and out, one hand still on his dick, the other now resting on Tommy’s knee, pushing it gently down towards his chest.

HB is quiet, much less vocal than he usually is, and Tommy is quieter beneath him than he was during the blow job. Thank god for that, HB thinks, because if Tommy was moaning like that now it would be over for him. HB is clutching tight to his own resolve, trying so desperately not to end this early. He’s been waiting for this moment for months and it feels so fucking good, he wants it to last forever.

“Keep touching yourself,” HB orders, “I wanna feel you come again.”

Tommy lets a low whine escape from his lips. HB watches Tommy’s movements over his own cock increase in tempo and vigor. Tommy loves it when HB takes control, loves it when he uses his vast experience to show him new pleasures, loves it when he talks dirty.

HB continues to gently saw in and out, both hands now on Tommy’s knees, careful to limit himself to only thrusting about a third of his length inside. He doesn’t want to hurt Tommy and he knows this is enough, this is hitting Tommy in all the right places. Tommy is going to come from this, and then - finally - he can come.

He’s selfish in a lot of ways, but he’s never been called a selfish lover.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck,” HB moans out, “Feels like this tight little hole was made just for me.”

That’s apparently all Tommy needed because HB can feel it before Tommy has a chance to even announce it. Tommy cries out and clamps down on HB, who pushes himself in as far as he dares to. Tommy’s cock begins to release ropes of come, hitting both of their chests and one spurt reaching up to stick to HB’s chin.

HB can’t hold on any longer, he grabs his dick in his fist to stop himself from pushing forward into Tommy’s tense opening. He groans loudly as he comes, filling Tommy up, listening to him sigh as he feels HB’s hot release. When HB has finished, he slowly pulls out, watching his spend leak out of Tommy onto the sheets.

It doesn’t matter if the sheets are dirty, he’s sure his wife won’t be coming back here to sleep on them tonight.

He pulls Tommy up and drags him to the shower where they both spend a long time under the hot spray of water, washing each other, kissing, and laughing. At one point Tommy gets nervous that they’re going to be interrupted, trying to speed up the shower so he can leave. HB shushes him once again.

“Aren’t you worried she’s gonna come in here and catch us?”

HB chuckles. The thought of his wife catching him, given her own activities, doesn’t worry him at all. But Tommy doesn’t know about what she’s been up to with Joel. He actually wonders if part of her would be relieved to see it, if it would make her feel justified in her own infidelity. Would she leave him? Would he want her to?

“You don’t think they’re gonna notice I’ve been up here so long?” Tommy asks, still nervous.

“I don’t think they noticed,” HB soothes him. Unable to tell him why, he makes up a lie. “I bet everyone is so drunk right now they’re all passed out in their rooms.”

“But this is her room-”

HB interrupts Tommy with a tongue in his mouth, grabbing his face with both hands and kissing the breath out of him.

Finally, just over two hours after they came into the room, Tommy is fully dressed, adjusting his belt, and kissing HB goodbye as he heads out the door. It’s almost 2am and HB has to be up in less than four hours for tomorrow’s schedule. He doesn’t mind, he can pound coffee all day if he needs to, maybe sneak in a nap.

It was worth it.

You spend more hours making small talk with the women and watching Joel dance with one of them. Aggressively getting bolder with each song. At one point he lowers himself behind her and runs his mouth along her bare legs, all while holding eye contact with you.

Your stomach burns and you raise yourself from the table. Paying your tab at the bar and wandering out into the empty halls of the hotel

You’re walking away with your arms crossed, when you hear running footsteps on the shitty abstract carpet.

“Heading to bed so early?” He huffs.

You don’t turn around. You know he was pissed at you for a kiss, to the man whom you’re married to, that you couldn’t control.

His eyes meet yours and you blink up at him. Your mind wanting to stay furious with him for turning this into a huge joke and your body wanting to give into him - like always.

You open your mouth and go to speak, but the elevator doors open and Tommy goes to step out, before getting startled.

“Oh, shit,” he huffs on impulse, and you can’t help but step farther away from Joel.

Joel, who only pivots on his heel towards Tommy and furrows his brows.

“Y’put that old fart to bed?” He asks.

Tommy steps out and around you both. Giving you a suspicious look, before his eyes flicker back to Joel’s

“Uh, yeah - m’headin’…” he points with his thumb, back down the hall, towards the bar.

“Back in there,” his sentence trails off and Joel slaps his arm twice with an over exaggerated smile, before following you into the elevator.

“Great, just gonna make sure this one gets to her room okay.”

Tommy gives you both another strange look as the elevator doors close. You don’t bother looking him in the eye.

After the elevator doors have fully closed and he sees the box of light begin to lift off the floor, Tommy huffs a loud sigh of relief. He thought for sure he just got caught. He thinks both of them must have been quite drunk to not realize how long he’d been gone, just like HB said. He runs a hand through his still-wet hair, then nervously adjusts his belt again before he heads back to the bar to close out his tab.

This was a labor of love and I had lots of help along the way. I want to thank @gracieispunk for her permission and encouragement first and foremost. (I really do love you girl.) This was SO fun to write and I hope I did her characters justice because I love them so much and her writing means A LOT to me. I also want to thank everyone who offered me advice and support in the writing of this piece, which I took way too seriously lolol. This is the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written (BY FAR) and it’s the first time I’ve ever written mlm. I am nervous and I really hope I did it some justice but I apologize if I didn’t do it well. BIG thank you to @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog who gave me the idea to mimic some of the scenes that hbf and his reader have done. And thank yous to the following creative people for helping me with beta reading and workshoping various parts of this absolute cock-fest: @theywhowriteandknowthings @bonezone44 @hiddenbabynyc @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @clawdee @ievutebebe

My own personal head-canons (not based on facts or encouraged by anyone - just some background I had in my head while I wrote this non-canon story) *not required reading - only read if you’re interested.

I head-canon HB as Timothy Olyphant. In my mind reader is 28/29, Tommy is 34/35, Joel is 39/40, HB is 48/49. Reader & HB have been married about 5 years.

I don’t think that HB knows everything that goes on, but I do like to think that - being an architect-bro and a pretty high-tech dude, he has cameras in the house - potentially ones that his wife doesn’t know about. So, he knows 100% for sure that she and Joel have their thing going on. He’s not really upset about it.

HB refuses to pin himself down with a label, sexually, but in my mind his appetite is varied and he goes through phases (His wife thinks he's straight). When they met he thought she was beautiful, smart, and kind. They had a fun relationship, good sex, and she was impressed by him, made him feel good. Most importantly, his mother liked her, and since his mother was ill at the time, he proposed and married her after a whirlwind romance. His mother has since passed away.

Unfortunately (or fortunately?) for his wife - after the first couple years of their marriage he started to lose interest (sexually). It's kind of a sugar daddy vibe going on and since he's pretty self-absorbed, he has no qualms about keeping a pretty young thing on his arm. He’s not a serial cheater by any means but he is currently having a secret fling with his best friend’s brother - Tommy Miller (who is newly bi). This is relatively new and it’s not the reason why he’s doing it - but he justifies this affair with the knowledge that she and Joel were fucking each other first.

He likes his wife, cares about her, finds her attractive, and enjoys fucking her from time to time (he's certainly not gonna say no to getting off if she initiates). He’s not a bad guy, but he’s definitely selfish and prefers to remain emotionally unavailable. He doesn’t treat her badly but he very rarely treats her with the care and attention she deserves (I didn't say he was a good guy, but he could be worse).

Part of him is unaware of all the selfish ways he acts (narcissist) , but the part of him that does know how shitty he’s acting is soothed by the fact that he knows his best friend is taking care of her. Not even just in a sexual sense, part of him knows that Joel cares about her and looks out for her (aka is obsessed with her).

#HB x Tommy Miller #hbf!joel #hbf!joel universe #gracieispunk #so much ass #mlm

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