#but now they shall be called Scarf!

[kjsasha]

That Night - Choi Seungcheol

Pairing : Idol!S.Coups X Idol!Female Reader

Genre : Smut, one night stand, friends to lovers, angst

W.C : 3K+

Summary : She realised that she couldn't be just friends with him. She wanted more but what she hadn't realised was that he wanted that too

Warnings : kissing, biting, pet names, spitting, unprotected sex (practise safe sex everyone), not sure if this should be considered semi-public sex, lmk if I missed something.

NSFW

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

"Pretty scarf, Y/N-ah. But why did you wrap it around like that?", Jihyo, one of my members, said as we were heading to our company. I chuckled awkwardly as a reply while fixing my scarf instinctively to make sure my neck was well covered.

After a recording session of our new tracks, I went to the rooftop cafe on our company's building to get their grilled sandwiches. My members had their individual plans for their break time so it was just me and our manager, Danielle. As the elevator dinged open, the sight of Jeonghan brightened me up right away.

"Hey"

"Hey, going to get your sandwiches?", he asked.

Y/N : "Bingo"

Seventeen and my group, Sirens, are pretty close. Though we debuted much later than them, somehow we all got really close in a very limited time. We cross paths very often as both the groups are under Pledis Entertainment. It'd been some years since we met and our bonding just kept getting better and stronger everyday.

We got out of the elevator, "Oh, S.Coups-nim is here too", a familiar 'back' standing some feet away caught my eyes after Danielle spoke. I turned around immediately but the elevator was already going down by the time I pressed the call button.

"What happened?", Jeonghan asked.

Y/N : "I have some work, see you later"

Danielle : "But-"

I practically sprinted out of there using the stairs leaving Jeonghan and my manager dumbfounded.

I didn't have the energy in me to deal with him at that moment.

Author's Pov :

Later that day, Sirens had a meeting with their CEO about their album release and other projects. They'd have a 10 days vacation before the release date. "Rejuvenate yourselves in those 10 days. Y'all shall be back about two weeks before your comeback for rehearsals and everything", CEO said to them.

As the day wrapped up, Y/N received a call from Mingyu. "Do you wanna get dinner with us at Jin hyung's restaurant?"

Y/N : "Us?"

Mingyu : "Me, Shua, Coups, Wonwoo, Jeonghan and Dino"

"Oh. Um, I, I'm not feeling well. You guys go, I'll just head home", she ended the conversation.

"She said she isn't feeling well", Mingyu informed the others with a little frown between his brows.

The next day, Y/N and her members finished recording all the songs for their upcoming album. They have been working hard for it and people have high expectations from them. They have the potential and are one of the hardworking, talented and rising groups of the industry as of now.

Y/N recorded her final part perfectly and their producer gave her the cue to come out. She wasn't aware that Woozi, Seungkwan and S.Coups came to the studio while she's doing her lines.

"Woah, you nailed it, Y/N-ie", Woozi said the moment she stepped out of the recording booth.

"As expected of the Sirens' main vocalist", Seungkwan added.

S.Coups was on the sofa, his legs moderately manspreaded, his right elbow resting on the armrest while his other hand's placed on his thigh. His gaze has been on her this whole time, the intensity of his stare felt almost tangible to Y/N.

Seungkwan : "Coups hyung...Coups hyung?" Seungcheol averted his gaze to him. "I was asking if you'd wanna go out with us for bowling right now", he repeated. "No, some people wouldn't like it", S.Coups said looking my way and walked out of the studio.

"Here goes our sulky leader", Woozi commented jokingly. "But what's the reason?", Seungkwan asked in a pout.

They invited other seventeen and Sirens members to join. Jihyo, Wonyoung and Lisa along with Jeonghan, Jun, Mingyu and Dk came. They all gathered at the parking lot.

Seungkwan's still whining about why his Seungcheol hyung rejected his offer and behaved like that; he even complained to Jeonghan about it.

Y/N's Pov :

The following day, when seventeen visited Sirens' practice room, I was left with no choice but to face him. I knew it was inevitable but I still wanted to prolong it as much as I could.

One conversation led to another and Seungcheol and I began to argue. I believe it started along the line where Wonwoo said something about him liking my quality of owning upto things no matter what it is and Seungcheol scoffed and said, "She does anything but owns upto her things".

And then here we were, getting at each other with remarks that the others couldn't quite interpret.

As their eyes went back and forth between the two of us, they tried to calm us but it's in vain.

Y/N : "I really can't stand you"

Seungcheol : "But you seemed to stand me very much when I was f-"

"Shut up", I cut his sentence hastily.

Hoshi : "What is wrong with you two?"

"Ask her", he said before storming out of the room.

Author's Pov :

Jeonghan and Mingyu went after S.Coups.

"Not now", he said as they were behind him.

"At least tell us what happened between you two so we can grasp the situation a little", Jeonghan said.

"......."

"Fine, we'll let you be for now but then you better come and tell us what this is all about", Mingyu said to him.

"She drives me crazy", he let out a breath.

Two days later, they all gathered like they usually do at Seventeen's mutual home which is a duplex house in Gangnam. Y/N tried to come up with excuses to not join them but Lisa dragged her out of their dorm. "I can't put up with that jerk again. Let me go back", she said as they made her sit inside the car. "I don't know what's going on with you guys but that can't be more important than the friendship we all share, can it? So please, patch up with him or something, unnie", Wonyoung said.

Once we arrived there, everyone and everything felt how it always did but yet a part of me was at unease. We all bunched up in their living area. S.Coups and I haven't interacted at all. He wanted to go to his room and take a nap but Joshua held him back, "We're gonna plan the trip now, stay".

Since Seventeen and Sirens, both groups are gonna get a 10 days vacation, we agreed on going on a trip together which has been long due.

The discussion was going smoothly and then Seungcheol and I ended up bickering again. I can't even remember how it began but at that moment, I was on the verge of throwing hands at him.

Wonwoo : "Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you both?"

Y/N : "Everything is wrong with this jerk"

Seungcheol : "Mind your language"

"Stop it", "Come with me", Jeonghan grabbed us both and dragged us to a room upstairs.

"You two are gonna be civil and tell me what the hell happened", he said.

"......."

Jeonghan : "Speak"

"He claims that we slept together", I said as I stared at the floor.

"Seriously, Y/N? 'He claims'?", S.Coups asked, clearly fuming.

"I don't remember that night", I tried to sound composed.

"Now you don't even remember", he was in disbelief.

"What do you mean 'slept together'?", Hanie questioned.

"We had sex"

Jeonghan : "How?"

Seungcheol : "What how? Do you want me to tell you how we-"

Jeonghan and Y/N : "NO"

"I mean how did it happen and why is it the reason that you two are mad at each other?", he asked evidently trying to figure things out.

I cleared my throat before telling him, "That night, at the party on the terrace, I was drunk and so was he and then one thing escalated to another and we ended up in his room and that's all I recall"

Flashback

Y/N's Pov :

My head throbbed and every ounce of my body felt sore as I tried to get up. I pressed my eyes shut for some seconds before opening them to clear my vision. The only source of light being the early morning sunlight seeping in through the glass window, I looked around as I sat on the bed. The rooms quite big and minimally well furnished. It's not my bedroom but.......I've been here before. And then, faint snores reached my ears. I gulped as I slowly turned my head towards the sleeping figure on my right.

Please don't be him, please don't be him.......It is him and the moments from the night are still very fresh and vivid to deny it.

End of flashback

"She left before I woke up", he looked at me, "And has been running from me since then".

Y/N : "What do you want me to do then?"

Seungcheol : "Own up to it"

"Should I write it on my forehead that 'I let Choi Seungcheol do me'?"

Seungcheol : "I want you to stop pushing me away, Y/N"

"And what's your side? Why are you avoiding it", Jeonghan asked.

".....Because, I, I....."

"Say it, say the word", Seungcheol sounded like he's challenging me.

"I'm embarrassed for giving in myself like that, okay?", my hands balled into fists by my sides. "This whole thing might be insignificant for him but I can't pretend that nothing has changed. I can't even be in terms with it so isn't it better to just avoid it? And what does he even want me to say to him? 'Hey, Coups, we had sex. Now you literally know me inside out'?".

"I want you to admit that you remember everything just like I do. Say that it matters to you too and it's just not me who's holding onto it", Seungcheol said.

"No, I don't remember anything, Choi Seungcheol"

"Stop calling me that"

"Choi Seungcheol"

"Don't, Y/N", he neared me.

"Choi Seungcheol, Choi Seungcheol"

"I said stop", he's right in front of me, his height towering mine.

"Or what, Choi Seungcheol?"

"Or I'll fuck some manners into you, right here and now, right in front of Jeonghan", he clenched his jaw.

"You perverted asshole", I gasped.

A baffled Jeonghan stood there as Seungcheol and I glared at each other.

"I'm giving you both 30 minutes. Talk, fight or do whatever the hell you want but when you two step out of this room, no more arguments or ignoring. I want my old Y/N and Coups back, understood?", and with that, Jeonghan walked out of the room closing the door behind him.

"Speak", I crossed my arms.

"First admit that you remember that night"

"Well, there wasn't anything worth remembering", I said in a taunting tone.

"Really?"

"Really"

"Then how about I remind you? Recreate the things we did?", he advanced towards me as I stepped back involuntarily until my back hit the wall. (That one episode of mmtg and going seventeen collaboration where JaeJae and S.Coups played rock, paper, scissors and something akin to this happened has been in my head for some time now)

As I got trapped between the wall and him, he caged me placing his hands on either side of me. Seungcheol let out a deep sigh as his demeanor shifted to something more gentle.

"You're important to me, a family, and I don't wanna lose you. And I don't regret that night even a bit but if you do, tell me how I can change that. Talk to me but don't walk away from me, please", I could feel his minty breath as he spoke due to the close proximity between us.

I looked at him and all I could see was honesty and something akin to longing.

"I don't wanna lose you either but can we really pretend that things haven't changed?"

"We don't have to pretend. Things did change but we can go on with it"

"Then where do our relationship stand? What are we now? Coz friends don't do what we did", my tone sounded closer to a whisper.

"Be mine"

My breath hitched.

"And let me be yours", he added.

Y/N : "I'm serious, Seungcheol"

S.Coups : "So am I"

Y/N : "Stop messing with me"

S.Coups : "I want you to be mine, Y/N. Should I write it on my forehead?(He repeated my words from earlier)"

"......."

"Say something"

Y/N : "Then make me yours"

A smile crept on to Seungcheol's lips as a sense of relief and warmth washed over him.

He stared into my eyes as if searching for clarity. He held the side of my face with his right hand and his eyes drifted to my lips. Tracing it once with the pad of his thumb, Seungcheol rested his forehead on mine, "Stop me before I lose it, Y/N".

"What if I don't want you to stop?"

He smashed his lips on mine as an answer to it. His mouth moved against mine passionately, almost as if trying to convey how much he wanted me through it. He bit on my bottom lip and pulled on it before breaking the kiss.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard you'll feel me in you for days, baby"

Y/N : "Not right now, others are around"

"I don't care", he said before lifting me up by the back of my thighs as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

Y/N : "Seungcheol, we really shouldn't-"

He made me sit on the study table and stood between my parted legs and kissed me again while his hands were busy exploring my body under my shirt. The ring on his finger felt cold; his bare touch elicited goosebumps on my skin. I raised my hip to help him hike my skirt up.

"May I?", he asked as his fingers grazed my inner thighs.

"You may"

He moved my panty to the side exposing my womanhood to the air. He placed a finger on my slit and hummed in satisfaction feeling how wet I was.

"Weren't you just saying that we shouldn't?", he teased.

Y/N : "Shut up"

The mere contact of his digits on my bundle of nerves shot up my need for more.

"We don't need the foreplay, just fuck me, please"

"As much as I wanna do just that, I don't wanna hurt you"

"You won't, I promise. Please"

Seungcheol smirked at my eagerness, "As you wish, princess", he took a step back to unbuckle his belt.

His dick sprang free as he pulled it out, the tip's swollen and red and the sheer girth of his length had me clenching around nothing in anticipation of being filled by him again. He pulled me closer by my waist to the edge of the table and I wrapped a leg around his torso as I leaned back balancing my upper body on my palms.

Seungcheol stroked his member a couple of times and spat directly on my slit to lubricate it before guiding his tip to my hole. As he prodded it in, he kept his eyes strained on me as if memorising all my reactions.

He pulled it out and pushed a little in and repeated it a few times before thrusting it all the way in knocking the air out of my lungs as he bottomed out.

My lips grazed his, both of our mouths parted mingling our breaths.

"Can I move?"

I nodded my head.

Seungcheol pulled out his member leaving the tip in before pushing it back and then picked up his pace. He kissed my jaw and neck. I hissed when he bit near my pulse point and then lapped his tongue on it to soothe it all the while plunging in and out of me.

"Oh fuck.......I'm...I'm gonna cum", I said as I felt the coil in my core twisting impossibly to the point of snapping.

"Go on, sweetheart. Cum on my dick like the good girl you are. My girl. All mine, aren't you?"

I nodded.

He slid up his left hand to my breast and gave it a squeeze, "Say it".

"I'm all yours", I breathed out.

The skin slapping against skin could be heard throughout the room. Seungcheol groaned as my walls constructed around his length like a vice as my high crashed over me.

I laced my fingers through his hair and wrapped both of my legs around him as he kept fucking me almost like an animal in heat.

He lowered a hand to my clit and began to rub it in circular motion with his thumb.

"Ah, ah, Coups"

"Yes, baby?"

"Sensitive"

"Give me one more, you can do it"

The ministrations of his finger followed by the movements of his hip bubbled up another orgasm in me soon.

This time, it was more intense than the previous one. I tightened my hold on his hair making him groan and smashed my lips on his to hold back the scream that threatened to spill out of my mouth. My body shook in rapture as my cunt fluttered.

Seungcheol slowed down his thrusts and parted our lips with a proud smile. My eyes were glossy when I opened them.

Y/N : "Stop smiling like that, you're not that good"

"Sure", he said and began to plummet in and out of me.

"Oh god, I can't"

"Just a little more, please"

A few more snaps of his hip and then he spilled his load deep inside of me.

Seungcheol : "Oh, Fuck"

We stayed there like that for a minute before he cupped my face with both hands and kissed my lips. He pulled out of me and placed my panty back in place. "Keep it in for me, princess", he said grinning as he tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear and then stepped back to fix his pants.

Once we both made ourselves presentable, we stepped out of the room. Jeonghan's leaning on the railing a few steps away from the door, earphones plugged in as he vibed to some music clearly trying to diffuse any other sound that might reach his vicinity.

He took off the earphones once he noticed us, "I thought I said 30 minutes but tell me my wait has been worth it and that you brought me good news". Seungcheol wrapped an arm around my waist pulling me closer to him and Jeonghan got his answer. A smile crept up to his face, "I'm so happy for you. Let's go now, others are waiting for you two".

Author : I hope you enjoyed reading it. Let me know your thoughts about it and I'd appreciate it if you could reblog the post. Thank you!

[lokisgoodgirl]

Comfort & Joy: The Lakes [Loki x Reader]

The Lakes Masterlist / Regular Masterlist Summary: (9) Roll up, roll up for the Stark Christmas Jamboree. Where candied nuts and cunning plans both come with an extra sprinkling of festive sweetness. (w/c 7.8k) Warnings: Minors DNI. Usual Lakes fare. Humour, Asgardian lore, fluff, all the feels. Smut references. A/N: This is the final final edition of The Lakes.

“Remind me, what named day is this in your charming yuletide festivities?” Loki inquired as you stepped out the revolving door of the Tower.

Charming. You smiled.

Last year it would have been any number of synonyms for stupid. You could hear them, see his lips curling the words from memory. Gratuitous. Senseless. Superfluent. Foolish.

But that was your problem, you recognised, not his.

“I don’t think it has one officially,” you shivered, nestling your chin deeper into the scarf. Fuck, it was cold today. “But I call it Christmas Eve, Eve.”

You sighed, watching crowds of the general populous making their way in shuffling merriment towards the Christmas market. No, not market. Festive Jamboree.

Tony had taken it upon himself to create a mini-wonderland right outside the Tower for one day only, all proceeds to the local children’s hospital.

A ferris wheel rose at the end of the cordoned street, every carriage packed. The smell of hot-dogs and caramelised almonds filled the air, old-time speakers tied to high lamps blaring Andy Williams at a volume that couldn’t be code compliant. “Lighten up, darling” Loki chirped as a gloved hand laced with your own. You turned to him, forcing a smile through the nerves. He looked phenomenal. A high collared coat of darkest green framed his cheekbones, pink tipped in the sudden chill. The one you’d seen in the window. You couldn’t resist. But when it came to Loki, what else was new?

He’d popped the collar, loose strands of onyx hair tumbling over the thick of his scarf. The one you’d bought him, of course.

Against the pale of his skin, dark brows peaked above a lowered fan of lashes while his gaze lingered on your intertwined digits. He raised the back of your hand to his lips, kissing it firmly.

“This will be fun,” he murmured against your glove with a knowing glint. “Have you planned...something?” you laughed. “Other than the thing.”

The nerves were fading, finally. He pressed his free hand against his chest in mock-hurt. “You wound me with your suspicions, madam” he purred, playful insolence thick in his tone. He sniffed, raising his chin. “I am merely imbibed with the spirit of the season.” Mid-giggle, your whole body rocked forwards as two hands shook your shoulders from behind. “Merry Christmas Eve Eve, sister!” Thor boomed in your ear. There was ringing. Thor looked good. He smelled good. And blessedly for now at least, there were no crumbs in his beard. “And to you, brother” Loki said, smile widening.

Thor tilted his head, regarding Loki’s jovial demeanour with suspicion. “And to you, brother-” he rumbled. His interest was piqued. “What has my Sponge of a sibling in such a buoyant mood this fine December day?” “It’s Scrooge,” you corrected, grinning. Thor grinned back as all eyes fell on your lover.

Loki gaped, darting his gaze between you both.

“Scrooge?!” he scoffed incredulously. “In past years, perhaps. Yet despite your attempt to churl me, I shall take it as a compliment,” Loki said, squeezing your hand, “for I too was visited by three spirits and thus...changed forever.” Thor frowned, “spirits, says you?” “Yes, brother. Yourself, Rogers, and the spectre of that ghastly reclining chair.”

Thor chuckled, before being distracted by something deeper within the crowd. Or someone. He cleared his throat. “I must to the candied nuts, brother” he muttered formally.

Out the corner of your eye, you saw Rogers tip the nuts-vendor a quick salute as he nestled a fresh bag in his hand like a hamster. Heat steamed from the opening, wafting through frosty air. “Oh yes brother,” Loki drawled with equal gravitas. “The nuts will not eat themselves.” Thor squinted as a restrained smirk danced at Loki’s dimples. “Indeed,” the blonde replied, clearing his throat. “I shall see you at the bandstand anon.” And with a curt nod to you, he waddled hands in his pockets through the throng. You watched him go as Loki’s warm breath seeped down your neck, his mouth fastening to your pulse-point with a happy hum of pleasure. “You’re naughty,” you chided playfully. Loki nodded against your neck, the vibration of his agreement making you fizz. “And I have the knitwear to prove it,” he whispered. As you made your way through the crowd, Loki’s hand never left yours.

The two of you together were a familiar sight in Manhattan, and Avenger-fans on the whole had been beside themselves at news of your reunion. Confirmations had been slow. At you and Loki’s insistence, there had been no official statement. But the public had cottoned on eventually, with the help of the press.

Fans waited politely for pictures, nervously pulling at gloves and activating their cameras while you and Loki smiled and chatted. It was night and day from the way things used to be, while you stood on the sidelines amid a sea of bodies whipped into a frenzy by the god of mischief’s theatrical adulation.

Every so often, Loki would nuzzle your cheek; checking in. You’d squeeze his hand. One for all good, two for let’s go. You didn’t need that second squeeze today.

“With regret, we must depart for the afternoon’s questionable entertainment,” Loki announced. There was a chorus of disappointment, but he patted down the air.

“Please, join us-” he smiled to the crowd gathered around you, extending an arm towards the bandstand not thirty meters away. “Your participation will be most appreciated to drown out the subpar efforts of all of us. Truly, you will never look at us the same way, I guarantee it.” Despite having been erected overnight, the bandstand in the centre of the wonderland wouldn’t look out of place in Victorian England. Thin wrought iron pillars stretched upwards, twisting to an ornate canopy adorned with Christmas lights. Garlands wound up the pillars, twinkling sporadically. It was only 3pm, but the gathering darkness made them shine. A modest band of brass and strings had gathered beneath the canopy, instrument tune-ups peppering the chilly air.

And in front of it, in a semi-circle, microphones.

Steve stood to the side, handing booklets to a line of anxious looking avengers. Bucky, Wanda, Sam, Natas-

“I cannot believe we have to do this,” Bucky muttered ruefully as he threw his coat in the assigned box. “I can’t believe it. I actually can’t? Someone, fight me. Knock me out.” “We’re all in the same boat, Buck” Natasha lamented. She pulled at the baggy jumper hanging around her hips. Bucky looked down at his chest, pleading eyes meeting her stoic stare. “Fight me, Romanoff. Please.” “Don’t tempt me,” Natasha replied. Their jumpers were matching. Red, thick wool hiding any hint of the lithe muscle beneath. And stitched on them in winding, white-knitted lettering? Nice.

Your chest shook with the effort of holding in giggles. Even knowing what was coming, it hadn’t prepared you for the reality.

Looking around, you clocked each of your teammates in turn. Stark’s logic was thus – Avengers with a ‘harder’ reputation? Nice jumpers. And for those reputed to be on the softer side?-

“You’re wearing the wrong gosh-darn sweater, Laufeyson!” Steve hissed over your shoulder.

Both of you spun to face him. Steve’s arms were folded over the green version of the standard knit, the word Naughty emblazoned on his chest in white bobbling letters. Your shoulders were shaking now, too. “Don’t act like you're surprised, Rogers” Loki drawled. His coat hung off one long finger, before disappearing in a flash of seidr. “The public will not be fooled by Stark’s futile attempt at psychological subterfuge. I am simply getting ahead of the inevitable Tumblr edits.”

Steve’s chin snapped towards you. “Did you know about this?” he piped, flustered. You raised your eyebrows guiltily, making Steve’s hands fly in the air. “Perfect. Just heckin’ perfect. Why I outta-” “What seems to be the problem?” Thor’s voice boomed from behind. The words were accompanied by crunching, flecks of almond littering his green jumper like snow. You and Loki parted, making a four-square shoulder to shoulder and shuffling further towards safety from prying ears. “Laufeyson’s taken it upon himself to go against the agreed sweater-allocation and wear a Naughty, that’s what-” Steve bubbled bitterly.

Crimson had begun to creep up his cheekbones. A vein in his neck throbbed. Thor threw his head back with an almighty roar of laughter. Several almonds bounced from the bag in his hand from the force.

“Come now, Rogers ” he managed through gasps of mirth. “What did you expect? Tis just a silly rule, who cares?” He tossed an almond in the air, attempting to catch it in his mouth. It ricocheted off his eye. As Thor began blinking, Steve raised the clipboard in his hand. He tapped it violently. “I’m in charge of project managing this,” he hissed. “Laufeyson – change back to Nice.”

“Shan’t.” Loki quipped. Steve flushed deeper. “Laufeyson,” he warned. “Actually,” Loki started, enjoying the hushed tension. “I think you’ll find I am rather nice. You saw to that. So in truth, my sweater is fitting for this farce.” Steve’s eye began to twitch.

There was silence.

“Look at us, we’re like a little team," you offered, pointing to each of your green jumpers in turn. “Like the old days.”

Thor chuckled agreement as Loki and Steve stared each other down, a smile playing on Loki’s mouth that was irrevocably absent from the Captain’s. All four of you, it seemed, wore the Naughty uniform today. “In your case, as in mine, our knitwear reflects our essence perfectly my darling” Loki purred to you while his eyes narrowed towards a now vibrating super-soldier. “My naughty...naughty girl.” Steve sighed, hanging his head in resignation. “I told Tony this was a pooper of an idea,” he lamented. “It’s a disaster and it’s not even started.”

Thor’s hand clapped the captain’s shoulder in sympathy, lingering in a squeeze. Steve looked up at him, their eyes meeting.

The blonde god’s gaze widened slightly. You saw his fingers clench as his hand froze. In moments, he raised it; fluffing back his hair before sliding the hand into the pocket of his jeans.

“It’s only one sweater, Rogers” he muttered nervously. “Who cares?” Steve’s face fell, eyes darting to Thor’s crotch with a frown before rising back to his face. “I expected better of you, Odinson” was all he said before turning away.

Loki let out an exasperated sigh, elbowing his brother in the ribs. But Thor didn’t even flinch. His features had crumpled, spinning slowly as he watched the captain leave. His nuts? Forgotten.

But Steve didn’t see it. He was already making his way to the cluster of anxious looking Avengers huddled by the bandstand, examining carol music like they were Hydra files. “That could have gone better,” you whispered to Loki. The god frowned. His attempt to provoke his brother into siding with Rogers had not borne fruit. “Fear not,” Loki replied mysteriously as Thor produced a chicken drumstick from his jeans pocket. He tore off a chunk with a thousand-yard stare. Loki watched him in disbelief, continuing slowly. “There is still time to salvage this operation from the wreckage of my brother’s obstinance.” You gaze flitted between your team-mates. Bucky – Nice. Natasha- Nice. Clint – Naughty. Bruce – Naughty. Wanda – Nice. Sam – Naughty. Scott – Nice. Out the corner of your eye, you saw Loki swipe the half-ravaged chicken drumstick from Thor’s hold with hushed reprimand.

“What’s the big man wearing, I wonder?” you asked no one in particular. Loki snorted, “what else?” he said, nudging his head towards the Santa podium. There he was, Father Christmas aka. Tony Stark. Dressed in ray-bans and custom tailored suit, he looked suspiciously trim for a man in his position.

“Ah,” you smiled.

Loki’s smokey cologne filled your nostrils as he looped his arms around your body, pulling you tight to his chest. “It seems he will not be joining us in this public embarrassment,” he smirked before placing a warming kiss on your lips. Then to the corner of your mouth, then to the angle of your jaw. “Places!” a peaky-sounding Steve shouted, tapping a baton against the music stand at the head of the choir section. There was a deep line between his eyebrows that was decidedly un-Christmassy. “Norns,” Loki muttered. His hands slid down your body, fingers weaving through yours. “Ready?” he breathed nervously, your foreheads touching.

“Are you?” you replied.

Loki squeezed once.

The front row of the audience was made up of children, patients of the hospital. Cushioned folding chairs were laid in a half-crescent, two dozen of their smiling faces staring expectantly. Several of them sat in wheelchairs in the middle. Prime spot. One of them was wearing a pin-badge with Loki’s face on it. A young connoisseur, you thought with a smile.

Behind them, the growing crowd heaved. Sparkling Stark-Industries antlers filled your field of vision, handed out at the gates. There was a static hum, hundred of conversations and jokes and countless eyes inspecting each of you with anticipation. You could feel their excitement fizzing in the air while Bucky fidgeted beside you. Thinking about his solo you had no doubt. You rubbed his back sympathetically. He offered a weak smile of thanks. Steve tapped the pedestal again. “Avengers,” he announced with authority. The hushed whispers and small waves of the team to the crowd came to a halt. “One..two..” he mouthed the three.

All of a sudden, the air came alive with the sound of ten voices, stronger and louder and more melodic than you had expected. Unbelievably, it sounded...good. Hark! The Heralds, angels sing; Glory to the newborn king,

The brass quintet upon the bandstand soared. Even in practice, it hadn’t been this good. A Christmas miracle, you thought as you belted out the words in some semblance of tune.

Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconcile, Your gaze flickered to the other side of the semi-circle, catching Loki’s.

He held his carol-sheet diligently at arms-length, not looking at it. But rather, at you.

He winked.

Steve had rightly separated you. The chances of him squeezing your ass in front of the sick children was just too high. What if one of them goes into shock, Steve had said. But in truth, it was the deep, soulful magnetism of Loki’s singing voice that posed the real risk. If you were standing beside him, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to contain yourself. You winked back. Beside Loki, Thor craned towards the paper his brother held.

Thor had memorised every carol. Every modern classic. Everything in the repertoire. You knew that for a fact.

For the last two weeks, ever since your conversation in the common room – you’d been able to hear him before you could see him. And not in the usual way. You’d become accustomed to hearing his theatrical rendition of Silent Night bouncing its ironic way around the tile of the gym, the hallways, seeping through floors. And what he lacked in vocal melody, he certainly made up for in enthusiasm.

No - in truth, as the God of Thunder stared at the music sheet, he was avoiding Steve’s appraising stare which darted to each of them in turn. Joyful, all ye nations rise, Join the triumph of the skies,

Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from your boyfriend, you focused back on the conductor. The crimson flush of his ears had ebbed. He was beginning to smile. Well, a little.

Hark! The Heralds, angels sing; Glory to the newborn king,

The carol continued. And then the next, and the next. Collection buckets that were being passed amongst the crowd began to overflow, the spectators indulging in a mix of swaying, singing, dancing.

With every song that passed, Bucky became more nervous, his voice a little higher.

You only faltered once during Winter Wonderland when you made the mistake of looking at Loki again. At some point, he had raked his hair back. Pink peaked at his cheekbones, his hip slouched casually, tapping his foot in time. One side of his sweater was concealed in the waistband of his dark chinos. A french-tuck, if you weren’t mistaken. It highlighted the sluttish creases that strained at his crotch.

Dark curls fell around the green knit, half-lidded eyes following each word as he sang it. You would fuck that sweater right off him later. Or maybe, he could keep it on...you mused. His smooth baritone slid over the words like a sled in morning’s first snow, to face unafraid, the plans that we made, walking in a- He looked up with a knowing side-smile in your direction. A sharp elbow in the ribs from Wanda made you realised you had lost your train of thought. Your mouth was open, but no words were coming out. “-winter wonderlaaaand,” you squawked out of time.

Steve’s eyes snapped to you, brow arched. He couldn’t complain, not really. Considering how well it was going. A brief erotically-charged moment of disassociation was the least he could expect, surely. As the song drew to a close with a flourish of conductor Rogers’ arms, the crowd burst into applause. With every passing number, it had become louder. You weren’t sure if there were more people, or if the mulled wine had been refilled. Steve spun to face the audience, growing darkness making the warm glow from fairylights create a halo around his blonde hair.

“And now...a very special treat,” he announced mysteriously to the expectant crowd. “Something very, very special indeed. I’ve heard it in rehearsal and golly, he’s just spiff.” Bucky’s feet began scuffing on the ground. He’s going to do a runner, you thought. But thankfully for Bucky, he had nothing to worry about.

The plan was for Barnes to perform a rousing rendition of Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) by Olivia Holt. Or Michael Buble, depending on the demographic. Backed up by the jingling ooo’s and aaa’s of the team of course. But despite Barnes initial enthusiasm, the thought of it had filled him with more horror each passing day.

Steve had been very excited about the whole affair. A grand finale for his orchestral debut, such as it was. And Bucky hadn’t the heart to tell him. “Buck?” you muttered out the corner of your mouth. You glanced at him, trying to be covert. He was sweating, staring blankly ahead. “Buck?” “Yuh.” Barnes mustered quietly as Steve began to move a microphone between the sick kids. Their little voices made your heart flutter. But you had a job to do. The weight of Loki’s concentration radiated from across the space between you. He was watching you and Bucky, completely still aside from one twitching finger and the small smile flickering at his dimples. You cleared your throat, leaning to the side towards the soldier. “In a few seconds you might feel a bit funny-” “I already feel a bit funny doll,” he murmured bitterly. “Yeah but...well, you’ll see. Just don’t freak out.” “Freak-what-now?” “Out-” “-Yah I got that-” he snapped, trying to turn towards you and failing. He tried to twist, but his shoulders wouldn’t budge. “What the-?” “Buck?” you repeated slowly. He met your eyes, the first shadows of fear creeping in. “When Steve calls you up, just shake your head. You have a little bit of movement in your neck. And you can talk a little. Just a little so I can check you’re okay. Okay?” Bucky raised his eyebrows in a grimacing caricature. You decided to assume that meant it was totally cool. “Who are hoo hurkin’ hor!?” he hissed in a wreckage of lisping syllables. His shoulders shook ever so slightly back and forth like a wound-up nutcracker as he tried and failed to move his feet. “Oh, no-” you said, realising he thought you’d been turned. “No, it’s just Loki’s magic. Don’t worry.” Bucky’s eyes widened.

‘Please welcome-’

“You’re off the hook with the song?” you chirped quietly, hoping it had the intended effect. Barnes stopped struggling. ‘-my friend, James Buchanan Barnes!’ A round of deafening applause snapped you from your bubble. Steve stood back at his podium, baton poised and ready for the band to begin.

Alongside the other Avengers, except Bucky, you bent down and picked up a sleigh bell carefully placed at your feet. You could beat someone to death with this thing, you thought as the chrome bells jingled beneath your hand. Wanda shot you a knowing glance, holding in a laugh.

The applause ebbed as James Buchanan Barnes remained rooted to the spot. His eyes darted side to side across the waiting crowd. He shook his head very, very slowly. Showtime, you thought. “I’m afraid he has a bit of stage-fright,” you explained loudly. Collective disappointment hummed in the air. Steve’s face flushed an immediate shade of fuchsia, features hardening. You could see the cogs in his brain turn, a victorious glittering finale slipping from his grasp. His lips puckered, sucking in his cheeks. “I’m sure with a little...encouragement,” Steve said with a grimacing smile, raising his arms. The crowd roared back to life.

Bucky shook his head, a bit faster this time. Rogers head lowered, the breath from his sigh of exasperation clouding around his face. “If I may...” came Loki’s calm drawl from across the line-up. It dripped with sensual showmanship, treacleish tones sending an immediate flood of desire leaking into your panties.

Men and women in the front rows grasped at each other, gawking as if suddenly seeing him for the first time. It doesn’t get any easier folks, you thought with a smile. “My brother here knows the arrangement by heart,” Loki continued. “The lyrics and suchlike- I’m sure he would be happy to relieve Barnes of his duties-”

Mutters of excitement spread through the crowd like a mexican wave. Thor immediately turned his back to the audience, muttering something at surprisingly hushed volume in his brother’s ear. Loki listened diligently, holding up a penitent finger to the crowd. Steve’s arms were folded, storm-clouds knitting his brow. The foot had begun to tap. “My brother makes the valid point that of the two of us, I am the more musically inclined-” Loki began, gracefully gripping Thor’s shoulders and spinning him back to face the audience.

He brushed his brother’s collar, removing the last of the almond crumbs which resided there. A smile you knew all too well stretched across Loki’s lips as he looked deep into Thor’s eyes, willing him to understand. “But alas,” Loki purred, “I know not the words.” And perhaps these words will heal, Loki thought.

Loki held his breath as Thor began to gingerly shuffle forwards, tugging at the hem of his Naughty- emblazoned jumper. If father could see us now, Loki mused with a shiver as his brother gripped the microphone.

The crowd was beginning to stomp in appreciation, driven into a frenzy by the turn of events. Thor gave a small wave, bashful smile growing wider as people began to whistle. Loki turned his attention to Rogers, standing stiff and poised with baton in the air. He gave it a singular flourish, counting down from three. The crowd fell silent.

Loki saw the moment that Steve and Thor’s eyes met. It seemed to make every fairy bulb glow a little brighter in the darkness, sparks of hope spreading like embers from a fire, fluttering upwards in a night sky. Please brother, Loki pleaded silently as he raised his sleigh bell. Don’t arse this up. He suddenly wondered if Thor had felt this way during their time at the cottage. Loki supposed that he had. The brass band sprang to life, drums making an entrance. (Christmaaaas) Loki sang suddenly with the others. Nine voices harmonised as one.

Thor panicked, pulling the microphone to his mouth. “Snow is...coming down...uh-oof-” he spluttered, the cable tangling around his shoe. (Christmaaaaas) they sang, cringing slightly.

One line in, and Loki had almost lost all hope. “I'm watching it faaaaall” Thor crooned in bass – a little more tunefully. (Christmaaaas) “Lots of...very lovely and festive, yes – you...people aro-hounnnd,” (Christmaaaas) Loki sang, a smile beginning to spread as his brother came alive. He was pointing at the children, giggles and squeals peppering the air. The sleigh bell beat against his palm in time with his brother’s voice. “Baby, please come ho-hommmme,” Thor sang. Loki looked up, catching a look on your face that he hadn’t seen before. There was something different in that look. Some deeper variable of your smile that ignited his heart. But there would be time for overthinking it later, he surmised as his brother launched into the chorus with a glottal barrage of enthusiasm. For now, he had a love to nurture.

As Loki released his practised backing harmonies with the rest of the team, his brother got into his stride. ‘Owned the stage,’ Loki believed was the term. Steve didn’t take his eyes off Thor for the whole number. And if Loki didn’t know better, which of course – he did, he would swear that the captain was blushing.

(Please) they sang, sleigh bells jangling in time. “Pleaseee” echoed his brother. (Please) “Please” (Please) “Please” (Please) “Please Baby, please come hommmme-” You were surprised the operatic efforts of Loki’s brother didn’t make the ground shake.

The crowd were beside themselves, singing and jiving and waving their hands in the air. Thor worked the big crescendo, falling to his knees on the ground. His thighs spread, and whether it was his intention or not, you saw Steve grip the podium as his sensibilities buckled. Just a bit. The captain’s lips rolled together, stifling what you were sure was a bite. Thank god Thor wore the tight jeans today, you mused as you held the final note. With a swiping flourish of the conductor’s baton, the song was over. The cheers were deafening.

Thor stood and gave a small bow, sudden bashfulness descending. He waved, backing off to the side. His eyes met Steve’s, giving him an understated nod. The captain returned it slowly, a look in his eyes you hadn’t seen before. You watched him mouth two words, thank you, before Thor collided into Loki.

There was only one more song to go. You watched as Loki patted his brother’s shoulder across the semi-circle, pulling him into a hug. His face was alight with pride. It melted your heart. Despite the passing of the months, you couldn’t get over how different his smiles were now. Open. Genuine. Real. He’s finally opened his heart.

Have you? The thought came intrusively. Fairy lights shone all around as Loki tussled his brother’s hair. Thor couldn’t stop smiling. And neither could Steve, you noticed. One more song. Rogers tapped the podium for the final time, raising the baton. The mellow sound of the saxophone twisted in the air, followed by strings.

“I'm dreaming of a white Christmas Just like the ones I used to know” you sang. Loki’s eyes met yours, sparkling with the glitter of mischief well done. “Where the treetops glisten, And children listen, To hear sleigh bells in the snow,”

Bucky’s voice began to grow louder beside you. Released from his bodily prison at last. On cue, the Avengers began to peel away from the semi-circle, mingling with the crowd. Of course, any production orchestrated by Steve Rogers would end in a collective heart-melting communal singalong. Nothing else would do.

You watched as Wanda cosied up to a older man holding a mulled wine. He offered it to her immediately, stunned as he mouthed the words to White Christmas. She took it.

For your part, you made a beeline for the children sitting at the front of the audience, joining them in their sway. This whole thing was for them, after all. Loki’s shadow crept behind you, falling over the little girl with his face emblazoned on the pin badge.

“I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, with every Christmas card I write” Loki purred melodically as he lowered to his haunches. He paused, leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek. You watched her face, transfixed in joy as all her daydreams came true. The God of Mischief in person, his shadowed blue eyes looking into hers as though she was the only person in the world. That never gets old, either, you thought. He took her hand, pressing her tiny palm against his own. “May your days,” he sang with the crowd as his fingertips glowed green, “be merry and bright-” You couldn’t tear yourself from the look of absolute sincerity on his face. The utter determination painted on softened features to give this sweet girl a memory that would last for the rest of her life – however long that was.

Tears began to prick your eyes, seeing the crane of her neck upwards as her mouth fell open in wonder to the sky. Loki smiled. The green shimmer of his palm pressed to hers grew stronger. A glow flashed across the inky night, a billowing flourish of northern lights erupting over central Manhattan seeped in emerald and pinkish hues. They twisted in waves, swirling like a cloak which moved and rolled. It was alive. Loki's voice was quieter now, but no less beautiful as he sang. “And may all your Christmases, be-” “white,” the little girl gasped as snow began to fall. He did that, you thought in wonder as the crowd began to cheer, hugging each other. All sets of eyes were turned upwards to the sky. All but yours. They stayed fixed on Loki as the band played on amidst a flutter of newly swirling snowflakes. The man I love.

“The tie, brother-” Thor muttered nervously, “is it..?” “It is well done, brother” Loki replied.

He dusted the lapel of Thor’s crushed velvet suit jacket a final time, a deep red the shade of fine merlot. The blonde released a trembling sigh, pulling at his fingers.

It was Christmas Eve. “Did you take the pharmaceuticals as instructed?” Loki enquired quietly as the elevator bounced to a halt. Thor nodded, patting his breast pocket. “The Tums? Yes. I have some on my person should the gaseous beast rear in my belly.” Loki nodded, satisfied. All the bases were covered. He had done all he could do. Now, it was up to Thor. Well, almost. It had been Loki’s idea for the brothers to dress together for the party tonight. And although his initial plan was to ensure that Thor was in peak condition for this eve of great import, Loki would admit that he had enjoyed it. Very much.

He wore a suit matching his brother’s in all but one detail. Loki’s was a crushed velvet of richest emerald green. Thin silk ties of gold adorned them both, fastened tight to the white shirts beneath with a pin bearing their respective emblems. Loki’s gift to his brother. The Asgardian Princes were showing up, tonight. Loki had made sure of it. Mother would be proud, he smiled as the elevator doors opened. Thor’s Yuletide offering to him had been a gift certificate to the Cheesecake Factory, but Loki paid it no mind. Gifts had never been his brother's strong-suit.

The rest of the team was already gathered by the Christmas tree, festive beverages in hand. A rolling cheer of greeting sounded as the duo strode towards the scene. Loki grabbed two glasses from the bar, passing one to his brother who necked it immediately. The dark god swirled his finger, refilling it. Loki felt his brows rise as he saw you, standing with one finger curled over your lip and an entirely too sensual smirk on your beautiful face. Beneath the perfectly cut trousers of his suit, Loki’s cock twitched. “You look handsome,” you coaxed quietly as he slid an arm around your waist, releasing a breath he’d been holding as a charged grunt of need.

“If we had gotten ready for tonight together,” Loki growled hot in your ear, “I fear that dress would never have been seen by another intact.” He pressed himself to you with a lingering kiss, an appreciative thrust of his hips rubbing against your own. He sighed into your open mouth, feeling your fingers dig into his shoulders. “God,” Natasha muttered with playful scorn under her breath, shuffling over to give you both space. “Can’t take them anywhere,” she murmured to Sam. Sam grunted in agreement.

“Presents!” Tony cried, clapping his hands together. “Party starts at eight, tick tock. Cutting it fine thanks to Paris and Nicole here.” He nodded in Loki and Thor’s direction. Steve checked his watch. “One cannot rush perfection, Stark” Loki smirked, releasing you. He watched as Rogers turned and adjusted a decoration on the tree. A plush rabbit wearing a santa hat. He was nervous. Tony knelt down, reading each gift tag and throwing it to the corresponding team-member. An oblong package whizzed past Loki's face, hitting his brother square in the mouth. 'Ooft,' Thor grunted as mulled wine slopped over the side of the glass. He stumbled, catching the present. Loki sighed, flexing his fingers and removing the stain from the front of his sibling’s suit. His brother nestled the empty glass dangerously within the tree branches to his side, inspecting the package. “Tis soft,” he muttered seriously. Across the circle, Loki saw Steve’s anxious gaze darting upwards at his brother in intervals. He noted you offer the captain a comforting nod while Thor tore at immaculate wrapping, ripping off the red ribbon and casting it aside. “Odin’s beard…” Thor gasped as the final sliver of paper fell away.

The team fell silent, looking up from their various body massagers and associated tat. He raised the item in his hands like Simba, slack-jawed in awe. The amazed god stared at it, eyes glossy.

Bruce frowned towards the blonde, peering over his glasses with an oversized posing pouch dangling from one finger. “Is that-?” “-A chicken drumstick?” Nat gawked. “Tis’ soft…!” Thor breathed in wonder, twirling it in his hands. He clutched it to his chest, eyes darting around the group. “A thousand thanks upon whomever bestowed this plush poultry treasure upon me,” he murmured, unable to resist holding the cushion proudly at arms length.

“Truly whomever be my secretive santa knows me to my core-” he continued dreamily, looking to each avenger in turn. They all looked befuddled. All except one. Thor’s brow creased, doing a double take as Steve’s cheeks plunged to new depths of crimson. “Rogers?” the blonde god whispered, so low only Loki could hear it. “Open yours Steve!” someone probed. Captain America still held his own package in his hands, toying with it gently.

Loki maintained his stoic expression, tossing his newly acquired bottle of luxury dry shampoo between his hands as he noted horror descend on his brother’s face. Never fear, brother; he thought smugly. Thor thought that Steve was about to open a small box containing yet another gift certificate to the Cheesecake Factory. But Thor was mistaken. Firstly, America’s saviour was lactose intolerant. Any internet search would have told him that. But despite his brother’s poverty of imagination where presents were concerned, his heart was in the right place. And for the cunning plan his love and he had concocted, there was only one gift which could bring the two men comfort and joy this Christmas. The truth. “Wait, wait-” Thor yelped as he took several panicked strides across the room. He knelt down to Steve’s level, placing his hands over the box that Steve had only just revealed through the wrapping. “It’s not-” Steve looked up, meeting the god’s panicked stare with practised indifference.

“Let me open it, will ya?” he said calmly. Thor sank back, head bowed as he waited for the axe to fall. With every careful unlatching of sellotape, Loki saw his brother’s heart sink a little more into his stomach. “Good gravy, what’s this? A pocket-square?” Thor looked up, regret turning to confusion as he clocked the handkerchief dangling between Rogers slender fingers. It was familiar, heavy with otherworldly silk and trimmed in thread ground from the most precious jewels of nine realms. On one side, deepest burgundy melting to crimson. But on the other, a rich navy which faded to shimmering azure.

Red and blue, not red and green.

The two colours met in the middle, threads glittering and overlapping like foam on the shore. They seemed to move. To change and ebb in the light like a living thing. And stitched across the handkerchief in the finest gold,

En sannhet byttet mot en sannhet. “Jeepers,” Steve muttered as he pulled the silk appraisingly through his fingers. “Someone definitely went over the twenty dollar limit.” Thor twisted his head incredulously towards his brother. Loki narrowed his eyes briefly in response, coupled with a small nod. The blonde god cleared his throat, finally catching up to the scenario unfolding before him. “A truth for a truth,” Thor breathed quietly, looking to the floor.

Steve’s concentration broke, as if suddenly seeing the person kneeling beside him on the floor for the first time. “P-pardon?” he stuttered. There was a sudden wave of green hued light through the room, reminiscent of the northern lights which lit up last night’s sky at the jamboree. “My apologies, Rogers…” Loki purred, stepping forwards. “I feel it best to inform you that the others cannot see nor hear us at this moment. As far as they are aware, you are both by the bar.” Loki nodded to where a slightly glitchy duo of duplicates stood behind Tony’s counter, clinking glasses of tequila. “Just myself, and she-” he nodded to you, “are witness.” “W-witness?” Steve spluttered, trying to stand and finding his knees starting to buckle. He looked at Thor, eyes wide. But all he found was softness. “Say the words, Rogers” Thor urged gently, gesturing to the handkerchief. Steve frowned, as the blonde god pulled the silk from his grip.

“A truth for...what was it? Truth for a truth?” Rogers asked, confused gaze darting between the men and you.

Loki clapped his hands together quietly. “Wonderful. You are now bound to the Accords of the Kerchief.” Steve frowned deeper. “Accords of the what-now?” “Kerchief,” Loki repeated formally, nodding towards the silk in Thor’s hand.

“You have both held it while the other spoke the words. And now, you must exchange the truth which causes the conflict between you – so that it may be resolved.” “And what if I don’t wanna?” Rogers sniffed, ears burning. He avoided Thor’s eyes. Loki released a whittling hum of discontent. “Unfortunately, failure to comply with the Accord of the Kerchief once initiated means instant smiting at the hands of Heimdall.” “Smiting?! You can’t be serious,” Steve scoffed with gusto. “Oh yes,” Loki nodded very seriously. Thor was nodding too. Also very seriously. “The penalties are most grave, Rogers.” “You tricked me,” Steve hissed to the blonde opposite him.

“Technically I tricked you,” Loki smirked apologetically. Rogers eyes narrowed in his direction, his lip trembling with what looked suspiciously like a swear. “Laufeyson,” he warned. Loki extended his forefinger, waggling it slowly side-to-side. “It will do not a jot of good, Rogers. You can thank my mother for this one. Now -” he gestured expectantly between the men. Thor took a deep breath. “Rogers-Ihavefeelingsforyouwhichcannotbeexplainedin,mere...Norns-” “Slow down, Thor-” you cooed gently.

Loki felt your hand slide into his. The nerves roaring in his belly soothed as your fingers interlinked. Despite maintaining an exterior of calm, he was terrified.

“Rogers,” Thor began again. Steve stared at him, transfixed. The aura of suspicion which surrounded him was fading, his stiff spine slackening as he looked at the god. Really looked at him. Saw him.

“I have feelings for you, which run deep to the heart of me. Which I cannot deny any longer. And if you feel that you cannot return my interest, then I shall understand. But I cannot spend another night unable to sleep, thinking that you believe me to hate you. And I apologise for my boorish behaviour these past months.” There was a pause as the god took a breath before continuing. “It was self preservation, you see-” Thor rumbled quietly, before sighing.

Steve looked down, still except for his fingers fidgeting with the wrapping paper in his lap. “That was well done, brother” Loki soothed. Thor shot him a sad smile. “I-” Rogers started.

The three of you held your breath. He looked up, just at the moment Thor curled a blonde tendril behind his ear. “I-” Steve choked, shifting on his knees. “It’s okay Steve,” you coaxed from the side-lines. It was the final nudge he needed. “I feel the same,” was all Steve said. He looked up, meeting Thor’s widening eyes. “Truly?” Steve nodded shyly. “I got myself in a tizz, about a whole bunch of things which weren’t really to do with you. Or….us. Not really,” he stammered. "It wasn't a mistake. And I was a dummy to say so." Loki felt your fingernails dig into his palm, both of you craning forwards as the captain continued. His voice was serious, a slight waver just audible between the words. “For a while, I thought you thought I was just some kinda tart. Some kind of loose Jack. Well lemme tell you Odinson, Steve Rogers is no one’s tart.” “You were never my tart, Rogers,” Thor uttered with gravitas, gently cupping Steve’s jaw. The captain’s eyelids fluttered closed, leaning into his hold. In seconds, the space between them closed. Rogers arms wrapped around Thor’s shoulders, Thor’s hands sliding around the captain’s waist. They fit together like a glove, Steve’s fingers winding in the god’s hair like a spindle through spun gold. Low mutterings of apologies cascaded from their lips between kisses, small gasps and sighs as unpleasantness of past months were forgotten. “What the fuck?” Tony spluttered. Every set of eyes in the room was fixed on the God of Thunder and Captain America’s passionate embrace. Hel, Loki thought with a shock. In all the excitement, he had neglected to hold the spell which shielded them. The kiss ceased, but still their arms were wound around each other. “Sheesh,” Wanda laughed, grabbing a bottle of the good stuff on her way past the bar. “It’s about time.” A murmur of agreement rolled around the room, a chorus of whoops sounding as each teammate stooped to offer a clap on the back to the newly outed couple. And for the first time in living memory, the colour of Thor’s cheeks rivalled his lover’s. “Maybe you guys won’t be the public embarrassment at parties anymore,” Nat quipped as she passed, tapping Loki and you lightly on the ass. Your laughter lit up Loki’s heart. And there was that look in your eye again, the one he couldn’t place yesterday.

‘We did it,’ you mouthed silently to him. Loki winked in response, just as the clock chimed eight. With a spring in his step, Loki made his way to the men kneeling awkwardly on the floor, noting their interlinked fingers with a wave of pride. He offered both hands, and each was taken. He heaved, pulling the men to stand and immediately into a hug.

“Merry Christmas, brother” he whispered in Thor’s ear. “Do you need the handkerchief back?” Thor muttered through a smile. “I am assuming the revised colours were only temporary.” Loki chuckled, pulling him and Rogers tighter. The captain released a strangled ooft as the air was pressed from his lungs.

“I think not that we need such a trinket to ensure our bond. Not anymore. Do you, brother?” Loki murmured into his sibling’s hair.

From deep within the embrace, in a hold which seemed to melt the centuries, Loki felt his brother shake his head.

The party was a roaring success. And in the early hours of Christmas Day, you and Loki stumbled back to your apartment upstairs.

It was tiredness, mostly – and happiness. Strands of tinsel poked from Loki’s curls. You pulled one out with a giggle before unlocking the door and pulling him inside. “Finally,” he growled longingly as one slim finger toyed with the strap of your dress. Making quick work of pushing the velvet suit jacket from his shoulders, your fingers were halfway down his shirt buttons before you suddenly remembered- “-your present!” you cried, making Loki flinch back from where he had been buried in your neck.

“Can’t it wait?” he whined with feigned impatience. You waved an excited hand, scurrying to the cupboard. “No.” you shouted, head popping out behind the cupboard door. “I’ve been dying to give it to you.” Loki sighed, a reluctant smile spreading across his beautiful face. “I thought we agreed no gifts,” he huffed as you ran and sat cross-legged on the bed.

You bounced on your knees while he swaggered over, undoing the last of his buttons with a knowing grin as he enjoyed the roam of your hungry stare across his skin. His carved abdomen flirted into view, obliques visible with each stride as the thick cotton folded to his movements. Loki sat on the bed, legs spread at the edge. His thighs creased the material in a way that made your mouth water.

He picked up the box, inspecting it before throwing you a lingering smoulder. “Mischievous elf,” he purred. “It’s just a small thing” you bargained, biting your lip as the first side of paper was torn. “I stole it, actually.” Loki raised an eyebrow. “Open it!” you said, chewing on your thumbnail as you watched his eyes drop to the package. Suddenly the god’s face changed.

Playfulness melted to a frown, his smirk fading. He swallowed thickly, staring down at the mug in his hands before looking up at you. “-with the yellow bear,” he said quietly. “and the eyepatch!” you beamed. “I took it from the cottage. I noticed you always used it, I thought you might like the-”

Before you could finish, Loki’s hand had cupped the back of your head and pulled you into an all-consuming kiss. He bore down on you, the passion of his adoration sinking through the air and deep into your soul. Every circle of his tongue against yours, every caress of his breath as he repositioned his mouth over your own. He broke, panting. “Darling,” was all he could muster in thanks as he looked down at the ceramic with adoring eyes. You couldn’t stop smiling. His gaze snapped up, a click of his fingers making a perfectly wrapped present appear beside you on the bed. Golden paper shimmered before becoming whole. It was flat, and light. “No presents, huh?” you goaded sweetly. Loki smiled. “Open it,” he echoed. You complied. And inside the paper was a perfectly folded nightdress, adorned with autumnal leaves. The very same one. You hugged it to your chest, a dopey smile on your face. “I knew it was the one thing in that room you would miss,” he rumbled apologetically.

You reached for his hand, thumb running over the veins taut and thick on the back. “I hope this doesn’t mean I’ll be sleeping alone,” you whispered with a smile. Loki placed his mug on the side table, before reaching for the nightdress and placing it beside. “God forbid,” he growled. Loki pulled another errant strand of tinsel from his hair, making it vanish. Without breaking eye contact, he lowered you back on the mattress, the pad of one fingertip tracing down your cheekbone. Memorising it.

The way he was looking at you, the silence that hung where words should be. You knew which words they were. He was holding back, even now as he inhaled against your pulse-point. Holding back for you. As dark curls blanketed your vision, you thought of the excitement in his voice as the cunning plan was formed. Of the way his fists clenched as he silently cheered his brother on, how his face fell when he thought that it was all for naught. How his eyes had swum with joy as it all came together. Not for himself, but for them. And you thought of the smile on that little girl’s face, joyful in the midst of Christmas lights and magic that shouldn't be possible. But for her, and for you - with him...it was. Yes, you’d thought about that a lot. “I love you, Loki” you whispered slowly in his ear.

Loki’s kisses against your neck faltered. You heard a sigh rack his chest, breath hitching as his heart-beart quickened on top of your own. “Truly?” he murmured in response.

It was cautious, wary. His eyes came into view, concern clouding them. You slid a hand up his jaw, kissing him gently. “I love you,” you repeated solemnly. He pressed his forehead to yours, a choke of relieved laughter accompanying a long inhale of breath. “Gods,” he whispered on the exhale, “what have I done to deserve you?” “Everything,” you replied quietly. It was a truth.

He kissed you as though he was trying to absorb each atom of your breath, capture each flutter of the three words he’d longed to hear. As though they might vanish if he did not mark the moment with the seal of his touch. But they wouldn’t. You knew that now. How could they? “I love you,” he whispered back. And you believed him.

A/N: Thank you again so so so much for coming on this journey with me and the gang. I'm so happy with how this ended, even though the expansion was a bit unexpected(!) and I really hope you are too! Although the 'main' story is chapters 1-7, it felt like there was more to explore. Please let me know what you thought, any insights or additional HCs you have - they are always welcome ❤️ Tags

@lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @mrs-illyrian-baby @icytrickster17 @muddyorbs @buttercupcookies-blog @goddessofwonderland

[normal-person-i-promise]

overcoat

inspired by!!

"...Arataka. What are you doing."

Your tone is flat; unimpressed, as he slides one arm out of his coat, leaving the other in.

"...Making sure my beloved employee doesn't freeze her little fingers off, that's what."

He grins at you, a mischievous glint in his eye as he lays the side of the coat he isn't wearing onto your shoulder, shoving your arm in.

i havent written anything for a while so this. might not be up to par with my usual stuff

edited to change reigen to arataka because reigen is his surname i. think

★ ★ ★

Snow pelts against the window as you gaze out the glass, watching the white snowflakes fall to the ground and add to the growing white blanket. The tree's frostbitten branches adorn the sky, their black branches a stark contrast to the almost pure white of the freshly fallen snow.

You can't really focus on the view, though.

Arataka sits at his desk, his legs propped up on the wood. the fading light of the setting sun backlights him, casting a golden rim of light that traces the outline of his body. One leg crossed over the other as he takes slow drags of his cigarette, and his eyes, half-lidded, aren't fixed on you — though yours is fixed on him — as he reads a newspaper, the grey paper crinkling each and every time he adjusts his grip.

You can barely keep yourself from stealing glances at him, trailing your eyes from his shiny leather dress shoes up to where his fingers delicately grasp the cigarette, held close to his mouth.

Thank god he doesn't notice; you're practically drooling over him like some dog.

Arataka calls your name, and the way it flows off his tongue makes your heart skip a beat.

"You can go home now," he says plainly, not looking up at you. He rolls up his newspaper with a hand, setting it on the desk as he brings his legs down.

Not so much as a "how do you do"...

You bring your gaze up to meet his, smiling politely despite your disappointment.

"Thank you," you say to him, beginning to pack what little things you brought.

"Ah... It's snowing quite heavily outside, though..." He mutters to himself, cradling his chin in a hand.

You hum in response as Arataka brings his gaze to look at you, watching as you slip on your jacket.

"Mmm, I suppose I wouldn't mind...

Shall I walk you home?"

It's nothing more than an act of politeness, but it makes your heart flutter. He's usually so... Indifferent to you.

Sure, he's brought you out to eat with him — alone, a few times, but you doubt that really matters to him. Maybe he has heartfelt conversations with you occasionally, his laughs twisting your stomach into knots, but that's just a way of paying his employees.

He's not interested you or anything. He clearly doesn't care, what with how he behaves around you.

Though you can't see it — too preoccupied in wearing your jacket, which is definitely not going to be enough to shield you from the cold — Arataka's scanning your face, analyzing every little feature for some kind of reaction.

Please react in some way, he's screaming to himself. Please tell me that you love me, too.

People are so easy to read! Why are you so hard?!

You finish off buttoning your jacket just as Arataka's done securing his scarf around his neck.

You step out the door, Arataka opening it for you like a gentleman. Your cheeks flush, and it seems like his do, too — but that's just the change in temperature! There's no way he's blushing, right...?

...The walk is relatively quiet. Neither of you really initiate conversation, the both of you more than content to be together in a comfortable silence.

You can't help but steal glances at your employer every now and then. His blonde hair is a wonderful contrast to the pure white of the snow that coats the ground; his eyes, not really taking much in (you're not surprised; he hasn't really expressed much interest in anything) seem to almost... Sparkle, when those dark irises reflect the shimmering white of the snow; his cheeks are flushed from the cold, a lovely colour against the cooler tones of the pathway you both walk on.

You only realize that you've been staring for a few moments too long when his eyes meet yours. Your face heats, and you cast your gaze to the pavement in front of you, trying to ignore the loud beating of your heart in your ears, focusing on the way your boots crunch the snow.

...Out of the corner of your eye, you can still see Arataka. His cheeks seem to... Redden, slightly, before he quickly shifts his eyes to the buildings to his side.

...That must be your imagination, right? There's no way he just... Blushed, right?

You hug yourself slightly, the cold getting a bit much. You really wish you hadn't brought just a thin jacket to keep yourself warm.

Rapidly clenching and unclenching your fists, you can feel your fingers almost fall off regardless of the mittens you wear.

You risk a glance at Arataka.

He seems to be doing fine, based on how he's acting: his hands in his pockets, his gait even... You gaze longingly at the thick coat he wears, and he notices this, grinning smugly.

"Finally regretting your choice of winter clothes, huh?"

You blush, huffing in annoyance as you shove your hands in your jacket's pockets.

"Oh, come on. I'm fine."

He hums uncertainly at your words, fixing you with a worried look for a moment before it's wiped off his face, replaced with indifference, maybe even annoyance.

"You should plan for the future more often. You need to think of all the ways things could go wrong, so that you can prepare for them before they happen and take you by surprise."

You roll your eyes at his words. Of course he'd use this as an opportunity to lecture you. He's always doing that.

"...I'm fine, Arataka," you repeat, flashing him what you think is a reassuring smile. Arataka just frowns slightly, his eyes searching yours for some reassurance.

...He doesn't fine any.

He's quick to hide it, though. What if he's overstepping his boundaries? What if he's being too concerned about you? What if you don't like him back?

He sighs in feigned exasperation, beginning to undo his coat.

"...Arataka. What are you doing."

Your tone is flat; unimpressed, as he slides one arm out of his coat, leaving the other in.

"...Making sure my beloved employee doesn't freeze her little fingers off, that's what."

He grins at you, a mischievous glint in his eye as he lays the side of the coat he isn't wearing onto your shoulder, shoving your arm in.

You scowl, but find your cheeks flushing. The warmth of his body pressed up against yours comforting, serving as a means to hinder the frigid cold that bites at your extremities. This is definitely a step up from just now.

It's not like he's deliberately pressing himself against you, he's just trying to share the coat, thats all. It's not like he's deliberately snaking his arm around your waist, he's just trying to keep you warm, making sure you're comfortable.

...It's silent again, the two of you walking together as one.

Your gaze is trained on the snow, the ice turning gold with the light of the setting sun as you crunch the snowflakes under your feet.

When you steal glances back to Arataka, you see his face disinterested. His eyes are empty, his expression neutral as he walks alongside you on the empty sidewalk, not meeting your gaze.

It's a little... Disheartening to see this, especially when he looks so attractive — the golden light of the sun reflecting in his dark brown eyes, half lidded; the dirty blonde of his tousled hair settling nicely above his eyebrows; his skin, almost glowing in the setting sun's golden rays.

He brings his eyes to meet yours as you stare at him, and you quickly avert your gaze, blushing.

You keep your eyes off Arataka once he notices you staring at him for the upteenth time, though it's hard to not cast brief glances back to him every once in a while.

You're getting a little more used to feeling his body pressed up against yours under the thick coat, your expression neutral, the blush gone from your cheeks — now only there because of the cold. You can sort of say you've calmed down now, your heart beat normal, your breathing even.

Arataka, though he appears to be calm, is freaking out.

He struggles to keep his breathing even, fighting to ignore the rapid beating of his heart, trying to ignore the butterflies he feels in his stomach.

You played along when he teased you, you didn't argue when he started to share his coat, you didn't say anything when he put his hand around your waist—

...Should he try... It, now?

You reach your little flat, and you thank Arataka for walking you back as you slip his coat off your arm. You're more than a little disappointed to leave his side, missing the body heat already as you begin to climb up the stairs.

...Before you can get too far, though, Arataka is following you up.

"...Arataka?"

You arch a brow at him when you reach your floor.

"Oh, come on," he says, a grin in his voice as he leans in close, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath ghosting on your face.

"You're definitely still cold."

He tilts his head slightly, and as his half-lidded eyes fall to your lips, he speaks in a voice smoother than a heated knife through butter.

"...I could help you with that."

Your cheeks flush. He's not... Asking to kiss you, is he?

You nod in response.

Arataka's grin widens, and he leans in...

Before abruptly pulling away, quickly undoing the scarf around his neck and throwing it in your face. It falls into your hands just as he's sprinting to the stairs.

"You should plan for the future more!" He calls from the stairwell, his voice echoing as his heels click with each step he takes.

"You'll catch a cold!"

You stare at the green scarf in your hands, the fabric soft as it tumbles between your fingers.

Arataka's scarf.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

ROR Virgin Destroyer Dress

(Dress designed by https://twitter.com/Dishwasher1910)

Oblivious Y/N: *back from another shopping trip where Aphrodite assisted in picking out a new outfit* Lookie~! I got a new outfit! What do you think?

-Buddha: *if he was holding something it is now on the ground in thousands of pieces as he froze in shock, words escaping him as he trotted up to him, blinking up at him as he didn’t answer you* Y/N: Love~ are you okay? *He didn’t care that you were in the middle of his paradise, snatching you up before easily pinning you to the ground beneath him, eyes red with lust and passion as hearts appeared in them* You better hope I don’t rip this, because I’m going to ruin every inch of you!

-Poseidon: Sea God.exe has crashed and burst into flames *no words came as his brain couldn’t comprehend your body in such an outfit; when he tried to speak* Dolphin sounds *his face burned bright, his cold facade breaking as he threw you over his shoulder again, sprinting to your bedroom* You’re going to pay for this!!

-Sasaki: *he dared not turn around, remembering the last time you did this, the dress that he ravaged you in for hours was hidden away, so he wouldn’t attack you again* *he swallowed hard, slowly turning as you called out his name and he felt his heart stop and instantly his hands flew to his crotch as his face burned and lewd thoughts quickly took over* Y/N!! Are you trying to kill me?! *You batted your eyelashes at him innocently, confused by his words before he quickly grabbed you, rolling you to your back so he loomed over you, his eyes blown wide with lust before removing his scarf and grabbing your wrists to bind them...again*

-Jack: *he couldn’t believe his eyes, he refused to believe them, turning back to his tea, sipping quietly, not looking over at you, thinking it was a trick of the light* *When he finished his tea he looked again, seeing you smiling warmly at him, giving a dainty twirl, asking for his opinion. He wiped his mouth on a napkin before folding the newspaper up and stood* My dearest Y/N, I am a gentleman and shall always be one. However, for the moment, I am going to indulge with you in an uncontrolled and savage way. *Before you could blink, he had thrown you over his shoulder, rushing to the bedroom as if you were going to disappear before he could fulfill his desires*

-Loki: *drops to his knees as a light shown from above upon him, tears cascading down his cheeks as he beheld the most stunning of creatures before him* *a feral grin quickly takes over as he rushes you, pinning you to a wall* Can I ravage you Y/N? Please say yes! *You turn your head with a pout, arms folding beneath your chest* Y/N: no, you ripped my dress last time *instantly he’s on his knees, arms around your hips, his chin resting on your belly, apologies falling from his lips like a mantra, hearts appearing in his eyes* I’ll beg, please let me have you, please, please, please~~~!!

-Odin: *the mug in his hands instantly shatter as you twirl in front of him, showing your newest outfit off with a bright, unaware smile. With a sigh, Muninn and Huginn are quick to make their exit again, knowing what was going to happen...again* *Odin quickly snatches you into his arm, sitting you on his lap so your back was to his chest, his large hands coming to rest, only momentarily, on your hips* You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N *you blink up at him, innocence in your eyes which only seems to make him more feral* Y/N: what do you mean? *Yeah... you couldn’t walk for two days after he finished with you but requested the outfit to be worn again. He was the only one to send Aphrodite a thank you message.*

[tojisbbg]

❈ 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝗺𝘆 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻 ❈

❝one day i will stop falling in love with you, some day, someone will like me like i like you.❞

♡ manjiro sano ♡

pt.1, pt. 2

a/n: highly requested for pt. 2!! you ask and i shall deliver 😌

content: mikey x reader (y/n), very heavy angst, right person wrong time, you’re mikey’s childhood friend, he’s getting married (lolz), not grammatically checked/edited

...

it was currently seven in the evening, the newlyweds bid the last couple of guests goodbye. throughout the whole event, mikey tried his very best to plaster on the most convincing smile he possibly could to mask the chaos going on inside him. 

there was never a second where you’ve left his mind, ghosting through every lane in his brain as he couldn’t focus on anything but you. he felt guilty, knowing that perhaps his marriage wasn’t going to last as long as he had hoped for. 

“better invite us to the housewarming party, sano. your wife’s cookies are no joke.” pah nudged mikey, a small laugh leaving his chapped lips as he faintly nodded his head. mikey watched pah walking towards the door before suddenly stopping, watching as his friend bent down to fix the bottom of his wife’s dress. the hopeless boy couldn’t help but watch, observing the affection and love reciprocating between pah and his wife, before they both left together. 

in the back of his mind, the memory of you zipping up his jacket properly during the cold winter season, lending him your scarf and making sure that he was all warm and snuggled up was fresh in his mind. you always made sure that he never got sick and when he did, you would ditch everything in your agenda to make it your business to nurse him back to health. 

no one has ever cared for him like you have and mikey knew what he had to do. 

“honey?” the voice of his wife awakened him from his train of thoughts, turning his head to the side as he was met with a warm smile. god, he felt so guilty for what he has done and was about to do. 

“yeah?” he responded, waiting for her to ask.

“i was thinking that the two of us could have a small movie night when we get home.” she suggested, eyes twinkling with hope as mikey gulped harshly. 

home.

they bought a house together and planned to live there forever until time was up. but, he always wished that it was you instead. mikey couldn’t bare to look her in the eye, clearing his throat as he tried to think of an excuse. 

“it’s been a long day, you must be tired. i’ll drop you home and go over to ken-chin’s place since he suddenly left and isn’t answering my calls. get some rest, okay?” he lied straight through his lips, and his poor wife was too naive and quickly sympathized with it. 

“of course, i hope him and y/n are okay. let me know what happens, hm?” suddenly, she wrapped her arms around him, making him freeze. 

it felt so wrong, like he was being suffocated. mikey didn’t like this one bit at all, it felt too new and unpleasant. he’s been with ___ for a couple years by now and these things were never an issue. yet, after your sudden confession, the regret of not coming clean to his feelings years back ate him alive. 

“hm, let’s go.” mikey gave her a smile, placing a hand on her back as he led her out of the church. 

the drive to his house was not very long, giving him enough time to quickly slip out of the annoying suit as he slipped on a pair of jeans and a flannel. he saw his wife sitting on the couch, a small bag of chips in her hands as she munched on the salty snack while watching a rom-com movie. she noticed him and gave him a wave, making mikey want to rip his hair out as he just wanted to tell her the truth. 

but, he wasn’t ready yet. 

he walked over to her and place a faint kiss on her forehead before looking down at her. 

“i’ll be back soon.” mikey assured, making her nod as she watched his figure walk out of the front door. 

the ride to the brothel was about thirty minutes, making mikey curse on why he bought a place that had to be so far. the urgency to see you grew stronger and stronger with every light and block he passed. mikey quickly parked his car after arriving in front of the brothel before rushing out to go up to the floor where you and draken lived on. 

the elevator dinged and he stepped off, now standing in front of your door. his breathing became irregular, anxiety swallowing him up whole. all the possibilities of you hating him and banishing him away from your life scared him to death. a shaky fist came up to the wooden door, knocking twice. 

the door opened, revealing his tall best friend, staring down at him with a death stare that made chills run down his spine. 

“ke-”

“what do you want?” draken brashly cut him off, making mikey’s lips agape as this sudden behavior from his right-hand man was completely unexpected. surely he knows that you might’ve ranted to draken about whatever happened between you two, but usually draken doesn’t like to get involved in neither your or mikey’s personal life. 

“i just came to see y/n and talk with her, five minutes is all i’m asking for.” mikey chewed on his lower lip, eyes sternly on his shoes as he couldn’t bare to see his friend look at him with such hate-filled eyes. draken bitterly laughed, making mikey wince in pain as he knew that this was going to be bad.

“oh, so now you wanna see her, huh? you disappeared for nine fucking years, sano. nine damn years! you didn’t care about my little sister at all, whether she was alive or dead. did she tell you that she fell sick from not eating because she was looking for you? how she couldn’t sleep a single night in peace ‘cause she thought you were dead? of course not, you were too busy being blind and fucking some other bitch.” draken yelled through gritted teeth, making mikey look up at him with anger. 

“mind your fucking words, don’t call ___ a bitch.” the shorter spat out, tension growing between the both. 

“how rude of me, i forgot that you were a gentleman. well then, goodnight.” draken scoffed, attempting to close the door before a foot lodged into the remaining space. 

“please, all i’m asking for is five minutes.” mikey begged, tears welling in his eyes. 

“you had nine years to talk to her, but you didn’t. there is no five minutes, mikey.” the taller spoke, voice know cracking as mikey’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“w-what do you mean? where’s y/n? don’t just stay quiet, answer me!” he grabbed onto draken’s arms, only to have it harshly ripped away from his grasp. 

“she’s dead! y/n is dead, my sister is gone.” the tears that draken has been holding on since mikey has arrived came flooding down, as he glared at his best friend with bitterness. 

the words kept on repeating inside of mikey’s mind, taunting him as it felt like time has stopped. for some reason, it felt as if his body turned into stone, he couldn’t move. suddenly, a wave of rage began to build up, making him grit his teeth before balling his fists. anger clouded his sight as all he saw was red, eyes darkening.

“you piece of shit!” mikey bellowed, lunging towards draken before landing a hard punch on his jaw. remi screamed in horror, panicking as she saw both men breaking out into a violent fight. 

“you knew about her tumor! you fucking knew and you didn’t tell me?! what kind of a fucking friend are you, traitorous jackass!” mikey continued to throw endless amounts of punches on draken’s face, receiving some back as well, but no matter how hard draken hit, he felt numb. 

“stop!” remi yelled, before throwing her shoe at mikey’s head, making him wince at the stinging pain the heel left. draken was on the ground, breathing heavily as he shoved the smaller figure on top of him to the side. 

“do you think that beating each other to death will bring y/n back? do you think she’ll be happy? huh?!” the girl sobbed, landing a hard slap on each of their cheeks as both draken and mikey looked down at the floor in shame. 

“her death was inevitable, that tumor was a ticking bomb. she’s finally free from those painful chemo sessions, headaches, vomiting and seizure episodes. she won’t suffer anymore.” remi sadly smiled, body trembling as draken pulled her into his chest. 

“i deserved to know, she was my other half.” mikey lowly spoke, tears pooling in his eyes, blurring his vision. 

“you didn’t deserve shit, sano. all y/n has ever done is love you with all her heart. you were her world, everything revolved around you. yet, you failed to notice that. what did you do instead? you fucking disappeared without a word. oh and even better, you found some chick too. you never cared about my baby sister, you didn’t! so stop acting like the victim here.” draken sneered, meeting mikey’s teary eyes as he grew quiet.

“i was trying to protect her, i was afraid that my presence in her life would do more harm than good. i was scared that one day something bad would’ve happened to her because it involved something to do with me. i couldn’t risk it, that why i even disbanded toman.” mikey explained, breaking out into a painful cry as his heart bled. 

“did you even love her?” draken questioned, watching the man in front of him choke on tears. 

“god, i loved her to the moon and back! she was all that i could think of every second that i breathed. if i knew sooner, then i would’ve never left. i would’ve never been a coward, i’d stay by her side to protect her. i could’ve had more time!” mikey yelled in agony, making draken grab a hold of him. 

“it would’ve never been enough! y/n didn’t tell you because she knew that it would’ve destroyed you.” draken hugged him, patting his back as remi joined them both as well. 

after a few minutes, draken decided to take remi outside for a small walk, feeling like they needed some fresh air. this gave mikey some time to go see you. he hesitated for a bit, not being able to face you even though you were long gone. but, he eventually mustered up the courage and opened your door. 

there, you laid on the bed like a pretty flower, your skin pale as snow due to the life in you being drained out. 

“i know you told me that you didn’t wanna see me again, but i missed you. i don’t wanna let you go, y/n. i can’t live without my other half, i love you so much.” he cried, stroking your cold face as his tears fell on your cheek. 

if only he knew, he would’ve cherished you longer. 

---

mikey walked inside his house, eyes swollen from crying in the car, nearly getting into an accident twice from his blurred vision. 

he saw his wife with a teary face, her friend my her side rubbing her back. the both of them noticed his appearence, and instead of a look of relief, the both of them looked angry. 

mikey stood in his place, watching his wife rise from her spot and walking towards him before landing a harsh slap on his face. 

“you fucking cheater! you don’t love me, i was your escape route. you love y/n, don’t you?” she asked, voice becoming shaky as she looked at mikey through glossy eyes. 

mikey remained quiet, and there she got her answer. 

“i knew it, i knew it! yet i still had some trust and hope within you that my guts were wrong. that maybe those little gestures you both gave each other was nothing but platonic. i was wrong, you and that two-faced bitch lied to me!” she screamed in agony. 

“watch you mouth! you don’t get to call her that, you heard me? everything that she has ever done for anyone was nothing but a selfless act. you don’t know her.” mikey said through gritted teeth, making his wife scoff. 

“yeah? well, you can now go back to her and continue to kiss her mighty ass ‘cause i want a divorce.” she sternly said, crossing her arms over her chest before walking to the door with her friend. 

“i’ll get you the papers by next week.” mikey bluntly said, not even trying to fight or defend himself. he was tired and he didn’t want to live in an unhappy marriage for the rest of his life knowing that his heart belonged to you and only you. 

“why? i wish to cut my ties with you as soon as possible.” she said with disgust laced in her tone. 

“because i have to attend y/n’s funeral.” mikey deadpanned, making his wife’s mouth gape open. 

“huh, guess karma is real. that’s what you get, sano.” his wife’s best friend taunted, making his now ex-wife giggle. 

“i’ll come tomorrow to get my stuff. i can’t stand to stay here for another minute. also, i hope that two-faced bitch burns in hell.” she cockily said before heading out the door, slamming it shut. 

---

it’s been about a month since you’ve died and mikey hasn’t visited your grave yet. he was there for your funeral, seeing how draken never requested the morgue people to not take off the promise ring you both have on your pinky finger. but, he didn’t stay for the burial. 

mikey sat on the bench by the river, sighing as he fished out the pack of cigarettes he bought earlier. he opened the lid, plucking one of them out before placing it on his lips. as he brought his lighter closer to the end of the cigarette, your voice echoed in his mind. 

“see, much better than cigarettes. but i was being serious, mikey, i don’t wanna see those near your lips or reach ever again. swear on my life?”

he took it out, placing it back in the package. mikey stood up, walking towards the garbage can before throwing out the pack of cigarettes. 

mikey decided that it was time to see you.

he reached your grave as you were buried in the nearest cemetary, easy for your sibling to visit you on the weekends. mikey sat in front of your tombstone, placing the cup of chocolate pudding on the ground. 

“felt like you wanted some.” he smiled, opening up his own as he took a scoop of the sweet treat in his mouth. 

“how did i do it, y/n? how did i live all those years without you? now that you’re gone, i feel suffocated. it feels like i’m falling in this bottomless pit with no one to save me.” mikey’s voice broke, tears stinging his vision as he bit his lips to conceal a choked out cry that itched to leave his throat. 

“you just have to find happiness again, mikey.” a soft voice spoke from behind him, the familiarity of the tone set chills all over his body. he turned around, eyes widening in shock as he couldn’t believe it. 

“y/n?” he called out, but it was barely a whisper. mikey knew that you were dead, and that perhaps he was going insane, but he didn’t care. 

you smiled at him, taking a seat in front of him as you grabbed the chocolate pudding he brought for you. 

“are you real?” mikey finally mustered up the courage to ask, making you chuckle as you grabbed his hand. your flesh was cold, making him intertwine his fingers with yours in an attempt to give you some of his warmth. 

“it’s time to let me go, mikey. you have to live, travel, start a family and just be happy; without me.” your eyes held so much sadness and depth, it no longer twinkled with hope like before, making his heart ache. 

“i can’t. i need you by my side, y/n. please, come back.” he begged, shaky hands coming up to cup your face. tears began to stream down his face as he softly cried, making you sigh as you pulled him in a hug. 

“do you remember our first meeting?” you asked, gently stroking his hair as he nodded. 

“i told you, there’s too much love in this world to be consumed by regret or grief. i’m not saying that you shouldn’t grieve, but you have to pick yourself up and continue with the rest of your life eventually. that’s what i want, mikey.” you spoke, making him look at you with glossy eyes. 

“if only i knew sooner, i would’ve done things so much more differently.” mikey sniffled, making you shake your head in disagreement. 

“that’s why i didn’t tell you. my condition would’ve consumed you and i didn’t want that. i didn’t die in vain, i died knowing that i had a loving family and person who loved me for who i am. i’m happy, mikey and it’s time that you find that happiness too.” you assured, kissing his forehead as small drops of rain began to fall. 

“i envisioned a happy life with you, with one or maybe two little kids running around our house. ken-chin and remi visiting us on christmas, road trips and so much more. i’ll wanted to marry you, y/n! you’re the only girl that i have ever loved, the one my heart belongs to.” mikey broke down, trembling as the rain drenched him. you couldn’t help but let a few of your own tears fall, watching the man that you love crumble to pieces. 

“then marry me, sano.” you looked at him with adoring eyes, making him shoot you a confused look. you took off the promise ring on your pinkie before handing it to him. he took off his as he placed it in your palms, eyes never leaving yours. 

he slid on the ring on your ring finger as you did the same to him. mikey gave you a soft smile before caressing your cheek.

“god, i love you so much.” mikey mumbled under his breath, leaning in for a kiss. you accepted it, and for some reason, your lips felt warm and soft. 

“i love you too, which is why i need you to live for me. i’ll always be here with you mikey, somewhere safe and sound.” you placed a hand over his heart, making him cry harder as he nodded. 

“okay. i’ll try, for you.” he offered you a broken smile, kissing your hands as you hummed. 

“goodbye, mikey.” you said, and it made his heart drop. 

“wait! don’t leave just yet! ple-”

but it was too late because now it was just him who sat alone by your grave. mikey saw that the pudding he got for you was gone, making him believe that the vision or ghost of you was in fact real. 

you came back to him, even if it was for a moment. 

mikey knew that he had to give his life a chance, a chance that you never got. which is why he promised to live to the fullest for you. 

---

big flashing lights nearly blinded the famous race car driver as he cleared his throat, waiting for the interviewer to bombard him with questions. 

“mr. sano! what a pleasure to have you here, thank you for joining us today.” the woman politely said, making mikey give her a small smile. 

“the pleasure’s all mine, thank you for having me.” mikey smoothly replied, making the crowd swoon. for a man that was pushing his mid-thirties, mikey looked amazing, without a doubt. his voice was crisp and honey-like, making it hard for people to resist him. 

not to mention the generous heart he has. 

the interview was pretty long, consisting of questions that made mikey talk about his childhood, goals and inspirations. until the burning question hit him like a truck. 

“mr. sano, you’ve got quite a fanbase.” the interviewer started off, being cut off by the loud squeals of mikey’s fangirls, making him chuckle. 

“we all want to know, are you single?” the question pondered in his head, but mikey knew the answer and didn’t hesitate. 

“i’m not, actually.” he revealed, making people gasp and scream from shock. 

“who’s the lucky girl if i may ask?” the interviewer continued to ask for further information. mikey smiled, thinking about the only woman that will ever own his heart. 

“my best friend, y/n. she’s my wife who unfortunately passed away a few years ago due to an inoperable brain tumor. she’s the love of my life and i miss her every day. i funded the research foundation for inoperable brain tumors in memory of her. she’s the biggest inspiration in my life and i hope she’s happy when she watches over me.” mikey spoke into the mic, making the crowd briefly go silent before a loud wave of claps echoed through the room. 

“you’re a great man, mr. sano, i’m sure your wife is very proud of you. she sounds like an amazing woman.” the interviewer offered a consoling smile. 

“she was. y/n was brilliant, she was smart and talented in almost every aspect. she’s my other half, which is why it made it hard for me to learn how to live without her after she passed away. but, she always told me how there was too much love in this world and i shouldn’t be consumed by grief. so, i picked myself back up and started something to give other people hope for a better tomorrow.” mikey explained, seeing how the audience was in tears from his heart-touching words. 

for a breif moment, mikey saw you amongst the crowd. his eyes widened, seeing you in a beautiful cherry sundress, similar to the one you wear every summer in high school. you were clapping and you blew him a kiss, to which he caught as his eyes teared. 

mikey knew that he would never stop falling in love with you and that he would let you break his heart over and over again. 

because his heart belong to you and only you. 

[self-awared]

The Anemo Archon

Genshin SAGAU Imposter Au!

Part 1 <— You are here! Part 2

Trigger warnings: Violence, not proof-read, not well written

Everything hurt.

Your whole body was on fire from running, from being stabbed, from tripping... If there was something that could hurt you, it did.

—

You had no idea why people stared at you with hatred as you entered the city of freedom. You were the Creator, after all.

It wasn't until you were jumped by the Knights of Favonius that you realized what was happening. They screamed at you, calling you an imposter that dared to steal their Creator's face.

You barely escaped with your life.

—

"The wind? What about it?" You spoke curiously as you held a small wind spirit in your hand. Istaroth had named it Barbatos. It had the ability to talk, and had a mind of its own. It had also become quite close to you as you made and molded Teyvat.

"Whenever you're hurt, follow the wind! I'll help you!" The spirit's glee brought a smile to your face.

"Will you, now? Who says I need protecting?" You responded, teasing the small and adorable creature.

"Me! I do! And the wind!" Barbatos's childish nature was nothing new to you. It was always refreshing to hear their giggles and watch them fly around you as you took a break from exploring your creation.

"Very well. The great Barbatos shall be my protector until the end of time!"

—

The memory brought a small smile to your face as you rested in the den of a cave, a squirrel huddled in your lap, a bird perched on your shoulder, and a snake around your neck like a scarf.

You had felt the wind comforting you as you ran from your attackers. The wind blowed past your face and almost pushed you forward, as if trying to get you to run faster before an arrow struck your shoulder.

You had managed to get away from your attackers, deciding to take the advice of an old friend and follow the wind. It led you to a deep cave, one that would provide you with shelter. The animals brought you food. Squirrels brought acorns, rabbits brought leaves and carrots, birds brought worms, snakes brought dead animals... The worms did creep you out though.

You ran a finger over the squirrel's fur, finding comfort in the feeling of something so soft after going through something so harsh. The peace was interrupted by a soft whisper in your ear, making you jump and scaring the animals.

"Seems like you do need the wind's protection after all!"

You were flooded with relief upon hearing the familiar voice of Barbatos, before panicking at the thought that he might believe that you were an imposter.

"Barbatos... You... Do you believe it's me?" Your hands were shaking just as bad as your breathing. It terrified you at the thought of having to flee from a beloved friend—

"Of course not, Your Grace! The wind never lies! And it's certainly not lying about the fact that your attempts at bandaging are quite poor." Barbatos teased as he sat next to you.

"May I?" Barbatos reached out to you, a hand hovering over the makeshift bandage over your shoulder.

You nodded ever so slightly, internally sighing at his normal playful nature.

As Barbatos tended to your numerous wounds—mainly the one on your shoulder—you couldn't help but notice that he looked different from what you remembered.

"Did you get a change of style?" Curiosity plagued your voice.

"I took the form of a friend." Barbatos's smile became rather dim as he spoke softly.

"Oh... I see." You paused. "What happened while I was away...?" You were reluctant in asking, as if afraid of the answer.

"Well, Your Grace... Someone claimed to be you. They fit the description told in the tales, and even the one I remember you looking like. Everyone believed them, and I'm no longer as strong as I used to be." He spoke softly, in a quiet tone, weary of any passersby, even though you were in the depths of a cave.

"So, I played along. I'm trying my best to find out how to get rid of them, I swear on my life, Your Grace." His smile was comforting as he finished tending to your injuries.

"And what should I do?"

[affableramen]

pantalone x stubbornly poor reader according to this beautiful request

angst with an open ending; romance elements; pathetic old man

dear anon, i hope you like the final result of this beautiful project. hopefully you won’t be angry at me for i altered the idea to my preference.

Pantalone is circling you around with long steps, but despite him wearing heels, his pacing also remains quiet. 

“I take it you did not expect me in your tiny shabby apartment today.”

“No, not at all, sir.”

You can call him ‘sir’ as much as you would like, but the both of you know how much of disgust you harboured to this insignificant rich man, who did everything in order to seem a perfect socialist, but only you knew how fake he truly was. But keeping the faces up you wouldn’t permit yourself simply looking at him in an offensive way, it would be improper. And it would be perilous too, considering the fact this man is right now in your home.

“Tell me, aren’t you tired of being used? Being helpless?” He stops right there, though his voice keeps on raising a tickling sensation against your neck. “Your destitution does no good to you, it’s sickening and makes you look ill. What I offer you…”

Pantalone turns to face you, his eyes half-lidded as he pronounces that:

“I offer you help. Escape your misery with just one simple action.”

“What action?” You ask him bluntly, sensing unevenness.

“One kiss shall it cost.”

“A kiss… to cure my financial issues? I highly doubt that.”

Pantalone leaned slightly closer, his eyes looking up and down your face—going all way from your eyes to you neck, that is covered with a thin, cheaply-looking teal scarf.

“You don’t believe me?” You close your eyes; his breath is found light against your ear.

He finds purchase in your hand.

“So destitute, yet so stubborn.” He takes your hand, and you let him, unwillingly though. He knows it, he sees the bewilderment in your eyes. You don’t know what to do, how to act and what to say. But Pantalone only brings your hand to his lips and kisses the top of it, his dry lips are unbelievably soft on your skin. There’s a light smile tugged on his lips, almost unnoticeable; though you see it, at such proximity how could you not?

“One. Single. Kiss.” His tone becomes quieter with each passing moment. “Just one.”

His eyes are hooded and he looks at you completely relaxed, yet at the same time his aura is uneven, unsteady and disturbing. He sucks on your hand, pressing his lips everywhere he reaches access to on your hand, before he raises his head and speaks with a particularly raspy voice:

“I can’t any longer bear seeing you drown in your tears, caused by financial struggles. All it will cost to get you out of your misery is one shallow kiss.”

Perplexed still, you do not understand the meaning of his decision. 

“Why just one? Pantalone, I don’t understand.”

“Because you are not even close to be fond of me, yet I have been madly in love with you for some time. I would not take the guilt of forcing you into something you’d do so unwillingly.”

“…you are?”

His eyes are deep and dark on you, but the concept of love does not frame within the banker, at least in your opinion.

“Nothing else shall I ask for, except a single kiss. Nothing else, my dear.”

You look down—he doesn’t understand the consequences at all. He must have been too rational of a man.

“You see, if I kiss you with this mood, it will only be a fake kiss. And the both of us will regret it.”

A frown takes over his expression, the usual icy glare returns to his eyes. 

“Believe me, Y/N, I won’t ever regret a kiss with you.”

“Wouldn’t you prefer a kiss from someone who is equally affected by you? What’s the point of kissing someone you don’t love?”

“That is not the question I can answer. Y/N, please, you’re making all of this sound more pathetic than it already is. I’m aware you don’t hold a single ounce of affection towards me, but let me settle your debts, all I ask back is a mere kiss. Doesn’t it make a good trade for you?”

“It makes a hideous trade.”

Yet you take a step closer to him. Pantalone studies your actions carefully, he does not miss a single chance to admire your pristine, unruined beauty. You place your hands onto his cheeks not exactly earnestly, more like this is but a torture to you. Pantalone responds to you, pushing himself slightly forward, his lips parted and his eyes shut. Only now you can notice how long his eyelashes are, and how his skin is imperfect despite all charming rich gentleman claims.

You force yourself to crash onto his lips, and he accepts it willingly, taking your lips first greedily back, and then shifting it more to the softer side. No matter how fake you call it, it makes his being glow of happiness and excitement. It is still a kiss from you, on top of everything else. His arm snakes aroung your waist, the other hand finding purchase in your hair. He doesn’t let a single moment go to waste and keeps kissing you deeply and passionately, you swear to feel his taste on your tongue.

You pull away the first with a confused and pensive look on your face. Pantalone’s expression is read like a book, you don’t need to be an experienced sort of lady to understand what that kiss meant for him and what effect it had on him. On your part, you don’t know anymore whether the kiss was fake or wielded true feelings.

Abruptly, Pantalone adjusts his glasses, pushing them onto his nose firmly and exhales quietly. His breath seems shaky, but his inner world is shattered.

“Money is yours. I shall not postpone my departure any longer. I’ve already abused the generosity of your home.”

He turns away from you and escapes the apartment. Your bank account is found filled with money, but you don’t give it much of your attention right now. With a trembling hand, you touch your lips. A blush spreads over your cheeks.

“It wasn’t so bad.”

Later at night, Pantalone overthinks the happened while smoking a pipe in his garden.

“This was the worst, but the most pleasant kiss in my life. I shall not forget it ever.”

[amourdivine]

PAC ઉ YOUR CURRENT ENERGY!

Hello, lovelies, I know it has been some time, but I missed you. I hope everyone is doing ok these days. Let's look into your energy today, shall we?

paid readings are closed as of february 2024

none of the images are mine unless stated otherwise!

pick a card masterlist & information

the piles.

1 → 2 3 → 4

how to choose your pile.  take deep breaths for a few minutes & look at each and every one of the piles separately. see which one brings you to a feeling, a place or a memory. take your time and feel free to come back to it later.

amourdivine. 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

disclaimer. this is a general reading! tarot is a divination tool & is not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i do not take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings.

PILE ONE

queen of cups ✧ death ✧ ace of swords ✧ the high priestess

Before I shuffled, I couldn’t help but feel lonely, like there’s this pang in my chest whenever I think of life and the current state of the world. It reminds me of the term “loneliness epidemic” and how so many of us are struggling to make friends or maintain pre-existing relationships. I think you are beginning to find emotional fulfillment in different things than you did before. Nothing may have worked out - at least, the things that used to work out aren’t working out anymore. There’s this voice inside of you begging for a new beginning, for clarity, and it’s slow but surely coming towards you. Where your energy is will wildly depend on how much you’ve listened to that inner voice already, but it’s a calling towards something new, regardless.

I think you’re scared because you haven’t done this before. You may be discovering things about yourself as well that are quite surprising, like new hobbies or gifts. It’s refreshing too, both painful and refreshing. Sort of like the concept of growing pains - growing up is not easy and there are no guidelines, no roadmaps. Often, we discover things through trial and error. 

You may have withdrawn your energy as well, especially from old social circles. I get the feeling you were unsatisfied. Things felt stuck. They may still feel stuck, boring and completely lost in the routine of it all. It’s okay. You’re growing. Bones can hurt when they heal and grow. The same goes for you. I see snakes here, shedding their old skin. In your case, I don’t think you have found a “new skin” already, but you’ve shed your old life either way. It’s okay to want more, pile one. It’s okay to change. We’re ever-evolving. What suited you then won’t suit you now, that’s how life goes, with the changing of the seasons. It’s beautiful to witness - and when you look back you’ll realize just how much we can shift, how many places we’ll go and how much more there is to life than our old selves.

It’s okay to let it go. You’ll be okay even if the waters are muddy for now.

This is a very spiritual pile! Make sure to cater to your emotional and spiritual needs, taking care of your physical body and being around soothing, comforting or quiet places while you tend to this new self.

channeled messages & songs: white snakes, ring, scarf, life path 8 (or 8 in general), silver jewelry, bodies of water, sleeping, bed-rotting, kundalini awakening, modern loneliness by lauv, scorpio, pisces and cancer, hermitting, social batteries, introvert, epiphany, books, the bible, prophetic dreams, chocolate, ego death. 

PILE TWO

six of cups ✧ the hanged man ✧ eight of cups ✧ seven of wands

You are returning to yourself, it feels like a sort of homecoming. Fighting for your peace while, at the same time, learning to accept what you can’t control. You have walked away from old beliefs, from restraints of the past and renewing your faith in yourself. Even the picture you’ve chosen is a close-up of someone’s outfit walking away. You’ve found dignity and you’re not willing to sacrifice it anymore. Maybe you’ve left a situationship or relationship that was draining you, molding you into someone you weren’t. Props to you for that. It’s not easy and I know it.

Your guides are proud - they’re very serious and regal. They think you deserve more than what you’ve had. Not in a self-serving way, don’t mistake it for self-indulgence, but in a human, dignified way. They see you as royalty, too. They don’t want you to settle for breadcrumbs in life anymore. No matter how difficult it’s been, they don’t want you to stop believing that things can get better.

For most of you, this is a time when you’re shifting into a more peaceful but assertive phase. You’re taking charge of your joy, your future and your responsibilities without clinging to self-blame or guilt. Maybe it took you a long time. I heard “recovery” in my mind and this has possibly something to do with a specific illness or disease you’ve battled for so long. There’s a huge feeling of relief, of taking a long breath after a tiring day. 

It’s okay, you’re home now, you’re safe now. You can relax. You’ve got this, pile two.

channeled messages & songs: therapy, journaling, barbie or baby doll, sage green, green tea, pastels, tiktok, doomscrolling, healing, “i’m not the girl i used to be”, rainbow by kacey musgraves, self-acceptance, shadow work, “i’m still standing”, camping, nature, libra and taurus.

PILE THREE

three of swords ✧ the hermit ✧ the star ✧ queen of pentacles

Your heart is broken. Someone or something has left you to lick your wounds and tend to the bruises they gave you. You’re in pain, so much pain that it may be unbearable to wake up everyday. You’re questioning your worth, your self-esteem has crumbled.. and you don’t want anyone to find you, to see you in such a vulnerable state. All you do now is hope for better days, pray a rainbow comes after the storm because the current is heavy and has taken you astray.

Unfortunately life can’t always be what we want or expect. Allow room for these heavy emotions - this too shall pass. It’s okay to be disappointed, to feel betrayed and hurt by what happened. If the ground was pulled beneath your feet, was it ever really that solid to begin with?

This is the aftermath of something painful. And that’s okay. You can’t force yourself to feel good. In the meantime, you can take it slow, nurture the hope for better days and hold onto it. I know we tend to view hope as mostly something negative and passive, but you can take baby steps towards emotional fulfillment. The Queen of Pentacles suggests you take it slow - there is no rush to healing, nothing to be accomplished, there is nothing for you to prove. You’re human, and therefore, worthy of compassion, patience and healing. Remember the Wheel of Fortune: what comes up must go down, what goes down must go up eventually. You’ll feel better, pile three. I promise.

channeled messages & songs: taking a walk, flower pot, cacti, heartbreak anthems, olivia rodrigo, punk rock, “i’m angry all the time”, hurts like hell by fleurie, capricorn, saturn, personal year 5, backstabbing, depression, navy blue by muna.

PILE FOUR

the hanged man ✧ the hierophant ✧ six of pentacles ✧ the star

You’re learning and teaching. Giving and receiving. Letting the scales balance themselves out, remembering that balance is not always fifty fifty. All the piles have had somewhat similar themes, so I wouldn’t be surprised if you have felt drawn to either pile one or two, but this one feels like a continuation of it, so it could be that you’re transitioning from one to another. Naturally, please take only what resonates for you!

You may have found a new job, a stable relationship, a good circle of friends. You know, despite the positive feeling of these cards, I can’t help but wonder if you’re waiting for it all to crumble again, feeling like the shadows of your past are going to haunt you forever. I keep wondering if you’re okay, I keep wanting to ask you. You’re scared, you’ve got your guard up. You can’t really trust it will last - and while it’s true that it all comes and goes, you can trust nothing is ever wasted. 

Let your guard down. Not everyone has your worst interests in their heart. Maybe self-isolation suited you before, didn’t it? You weren’t used to being loved, you still aren’t. But you still deserve it. Sometimes it’s easier to endure the hard things because they’re all we expect. It’s difficult to take in the good things, isn’t it? To feel worthy of them. To realize there is more to life than survival. You’re finally living now - and that’s a good thing. Uncertainty is scary, but in a way, so is the familiarity of hurt, of unrequited lovers and callous friendships. Are you ready to be loved, pile four? You can ask for the good times as much as you want, but when it is here, you have to remember to enjoy it, to not be on the lookout for the bad things so much.

We’re rarely in control. I know it’s difficult, but that’s often a good thing. Not being in control means you can worry less. You can fret less. You can take it day by day, knowing that the outside forces will do what they must and we’re all silly little souls on a giant floating rock.

PS: You’re doing well, I promise.

channeled messages & songs: self-sabotage, nightmares, attachment issues, bulletproof by la roux, bones, candles by daughter, earrings, 2024 planner, five year plan, entj, istj, quiet singing, “the pen is mightier than the sword”, studying, sweater weather, stress cleaning, autumn girl.

amourdivine. 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

[ladymoody]

hi!! i was wondering if u could make a story with sid jenkins and y/n where they're friends and she drags sid out to go shopping with her and she's in the changing room trying on a dress and the zipper gets stuck so sid goes in to help her and things get a little spicy? basically that one scene with jal but it leads to more lmao

HANDS ON ME

sid jenkins x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw +18, swearing, explicit language, breast squeezing, loss of verginity (sid), p in v penetration, cum.

word count: 2,3k

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist ; playlist ; characters list ; my website

I was on sid’s bed as he played some stupid video games on his computer. the constant electronic voice that said “you lost” was getting on my nerves and the annoying sound of him pressing those buttons on the joystick wasn’t helping at all. I laid there, staring at the ceiling as I played with a small ball that I had previously found in a drawer of his nightstand, next to a playboy magazine.

sometimes I shifted my gaze on sid, who was focused on the screen and slightly leaned in to have a better look at the game. he had his messy hair all over his forehead and he wasn’t wearing his usual woolen hat — he was still wearing his pajamas at the top but nothing at the bottom, except for his boxers and high socks with some little ducks printed on the fabric.

“ugh! it keeps making me start all over!” he groaned throwing the joystick on his desk.

“then do something else other than letting a damn game brainwash you.”

“but I’ve got only 50 coins left to unlock a new level!”

I huffed and sat up, crossing my arms against my chest. “I am not going to sit here doing nothing just because you have to win that fucking game. get your ass off that chair and spend some time with me.”

sid stared at me and I could tell that he felt bad for ignoring me this whole time. he hesitated as his gaze kept shifting between the computer and me, but then he spoke. “you’re right, I’m sorry.”

I let out a little sound of pride and untangled my arms to place them on the bed, propping myself up.

“wanna do something more productive?”

“like what?” he stood up and grabbed an already-opened pack of chips and started munching them.

“shall we go to the mall?”

“no.”

“aw why not?” I pouted and stood up as well.

“well, I don’t want to follow you like a puppy the whole time while you try clothes on.”

“but you are a puppy.” I joked. sid blushed, just slightly, and scratched the back of his head.

“don’t call me that.”

“why not?” I smirked and stepped closer.

“I don’t like it.”

“come to the mall with me and I’ll stop calling you that.”

he sighed.

he never liked going to the mall with me because he knew I would’ve paid more attention to the clothes and completely forgot about him. though, I knew he enjoyed following me around and giving me recommendations about clothes.

“come on… make your friend happy.” I smiled and got even closer to him, placing my hands on his lower chest narrowly tickling him.

sid blushed, this time more visibly, and he hesitatingly nodded.

(skip time)

I was walking down the mall, checking at the windows and popping in the shops every now and then. sid was behind me holding my shopping bags — I had bought two pairs of jeans, a pair of shoes, jewelry and a beautiful brown scarf — yet, I felt like there was something missing… a dress!

“one last shop, then we’ll go home.” I reassured sid and he sheepishly murmured “okay.”

I headed towards a shop that looked quite nice, it seemed fancy and by its window I could tell it had clothes of my color palette.

sid and I walked in and I started scanning the big room — there were beautiful coats, fancy shoes, long and short skirts and gaudy tops. no. I needed a dress.

“oh! there they are.” I rushed to a smaller section of the shop where I found a large hanger full of marvelous dresses. I started looking through it, examining the pieces of clothing one by one. sid waited patiently behind me, his gaze wandering around the shop in curiosity but also embarrassment to find himself in such a girly place.

suddenly I picked up a beautiful mini purple dress, tight and soft.

“found something you like?” he asked.

“yes, I think I’ll try it on.” I said as I turned to ask a shop assistant where I would’ve found the fitting rooms.

sid watched me disappear behind a wall not so far from where I picked up the dress from. he followed me and stood next to the fitting room I had got in. I closed the curtain and started taking my clothes off.

“how come you have all this money?” he asked from outside.

“it’s my parents’.” I said as I slipped the dress on.

“oh, I see…”

I turned around, looked behind my shoulder and into the mirror to zip it up. the dress fitted perfectly.

“how do I look?” I opened the curtain and did a quick spin to allow sid to have a full view of the dress. his mouth went dry and he blinked fast, he was struggling to keep his calm demeanor.

“g-good.. i-it looks good…” he stuttered as his nervous eyes darted over my figure.

“great, I’ll buy it.” I went back in the fitting room and closed to curtain.

after some moments I opened it again, finding sid touching where he was not supposed to touch — he almost jumped as I peeked my head out, catching him admiring some lingerie nearby.

“uhh… I was.. well, there was.. uhhh…”

I totally ignored what he was trying to say or what he was doing before I opened the curtain, instead, I just went straight to the point.

“the zip got stuck, could you help me?”

sid’s eyes lit up, but his nervous expression took back over right after.

“y-you want me to help you with the zipper?”

“yes.”

“am I supposed to… go in with you?”

“well, yes, if you don’t want the whole shop to see me naked.”

sid blushed and I assumed it was the word “naked” that had him getting uncomfortable. or the thought of me being it.

he quickly pulled himself together, rushing inside the fitting room with me and placing down the shopping bags he previously had in his hands.

I knew how sid was, so shy with girls and also a bit of a klutz too. I wanted him to get out of his comfort zone and the only way I could have done it was leaving him room to make the first move.

sid noticed I was just standing there, staring at myself in the mirror, and understood he needed to get his hands on me to help me fix the zipper. he gently moved my hair aside, letting fall on my cleavage as his hands worked on my back to take the zip down.

I looked at him through the mirror with a proud expression on my face, content that I was making him do a nice thing for his friend but also intimate from a certain point of view.

he struggled a bit, but he eventually managed to let the zip slide down effortlessly. “done.”

I breathed out and thanked him, but then I felt his hands roaming on the small of my back longer than necessary. at first I didn’t know how to feel about it, knowing sid was shy about everything that had to do with girls, but somehow his hands felt expert as if he knew what he was doing.

“you look amazing in this color.”

did he just compliment me? out of the blue? no stuttering?

“thank you, sid.” I cooed.

I saw him smiling behind me, before skimming his hands around my waist. oh. that felt nice.

“you.. like it?” I spoke again referring to the dress and he just hummed in response.

sid’s hands roamed on my hips, touching my curves as he admired my back — the zipper down allowed him to glance at my bra. he brought one of his hands back on my back, now delicately touching my bare skin right under the clasp of my bra.

“sid…”

his hands trembled a bit, so I knew he was still the same, but this time he was… bolder. I loved the feeling of his hands on me, he just felt too good.

sid’s face lowered on my shoulder and I tilted my head aside to give him better access. I kept looking at him through the fitting room mirror, his eyes making eye contact with mine as he started placing wet kisses on my skin. his hands went back around my waist and I placed mine on his. I couldn’t hold back a moan of pleasure as I threw my head back, making it fall on his shoulder. sid smirked and started sucking on my skin, probably leaving a hickey.

“sid… what are you doing?” I chuckled.

he didn’t respond but just brought his hands on my shoulders, slowly and a bit hesitantly lowering my dress straps. I watched him moving both inexpertly and confidently, now pulling my dress down until it exposed my perfectly-sitting breasts in my black bra. I saw sid’s eyes falling on my chest shamelessly, before shifting back on mine and blushing.

“it’s okay… you can touch.” I reassured him as I guided his hands to cup my boobs. he touched them both, at first squeezing them from the bra shyly and cautiously, but then getting a sudden burst of confidence as he heard me moan and shut my eyes under his touch. his grip grew firmer and slid his hands under my bra to touch me fully. I couldn’t wait anymore and I undid it, letting it fall onto the ground and making sid nearly drool at the sight. I quickly stepped out of my dress to remain in my underwear only — I turned around, facing sid and wrapping my arms around his neck. his hands instinctively grabbed my hips and pulled me closer, his eyes eating mine behind those glasses. despite he was making a lot of moves, I could hear his heartbeat louder and faster than normal, his hands a bit sweaty and his cheeks flushed of a light shade of pink.

“we’ve become temerarious, mh?” I teased him as my right hand started touching his chest, playing and tugging at his shirt.

“a bit…” he sheepishly answered. he was so sexy and cute at the same time.

he leaned in, crashing his lips to mine. oh my god, he was a good kisser! we started heavily eating each other, completely skipping the slow and romantic initial part of make-outs. his tongue tapped falteringly on my bottom lip, slipping into my mouth to tangle it with mine.

he pressed me against the mirror making a loud sound that didn’t bother any of us, who were apparently too focused on the kiss — then he grabbed my thighs and lifted me in his arms.

I was aware of the people outside who might have heard us. the kissing sounds were obvious and noisy, but I didn’t care — my friend, who was no longer just a friend, was making out with me! everybody knew sid was a virgin — his friend tony called him a loser because he had never touched a girl that was not in a friendly hug, let alone ever kissed one.

sid and I kept kissing, the noise of the chatter outside, the sound of our lips seeking each other, his hands all over me… god, I was in heaven.

he suddenly broke the kiss and rested his forehead against mine. our eyes were both shut and our breaths came out in ragged gasps. his right hand left my arse and went on his jeans, his fingers hurrying to unzip them.

“are you sure?” I asked him.

“yeah… you don’t understand how badly I wanted you for all these years, y/n… having to stand there watching you hooking up with other boys while I couldn’t make a move…”

I smiled at his words, feeling flattered and also relieved that the attraction I felt was mutual. I let him unzip his jeans and drop them down at his ankles, his boxers next. he quickly moved my panties aside, his hand slightly shaking as he did so.

“mhh…” I bit my lip as I gazed at sid’s size. fuck. that was… certainly not small!

his cheeks colored red again, but this time I couldn’t tell if it was because he was embarrassed or just very hot and aroused.

he slowly guided his cock against my core, letting it lubricate with the wetness of my pussy. then he gradually let it slither inside. I felt it filling me up inch by inch (around 7 inches) and I moaned for each thrust.

“don’t- shh…” he tried to quiet me down, we were still in public after all, but luckily we were in a crowded shop and I guess people were barely hearing what happened in that fitting room.

it took all of my will not to scream at each movement of his thick member, his thrusts were rough and uneven, yet so strong and defined. I kept feeling his cock head hitting my g-spot repeatedly and relentlessly, almost forgetting that I needed to be quiet.

my hands grabbed his shoulders, my nails dug in his skin. “I’m… I’m close, sid…”

he listened to my moans and pleas and fastened his pace, pistoning inside me. I hit the edge, I overcame it. I moaned in his ear not to let the other people hear us, and I rode the wave of pleasure he was able to give me.

my juices covered his cock, which made him come right after me. he pulled out, stroking his head with his hand, and spurred his seed on my stomach.

“oh my god…” he slowed down and panted in my ear. we both chuckled, our eyes still closed due to pleasure.

I never thought I would’ve had sex with my friend.

[writemekpop]

Ice Cold | Huang Renjun

Summary: Your cold boyfriend Renjun has to learn how to give you the loving you need.   

Genre: Established relationship AU, angst, suggestive, fuck boy (ish) Renjun

Word Count: 0.6k

You slumped onto the bench and began to sob. 

Renjun approached you, his deep brown eyes inspecting your face. 

"Who did this to you?” he said. His expression was stern.  

"You know who did this,” you snapped, then sighed. Renjun probably had no idea what he’d done. 

Renjun stood stiffly. After a minute of watching you cry, he pulled off his black overcoat – and put it over your shoulders.  

Surprised, you snuggled into the coat, inhaling his smell – old books and ash. 

“I’m not very – good with intimacy”. Renjun said, patting your shoulder awkwardly. “I don’t always… understand people, but I know I’m the reason you’re crying. I’m sorry I hurt you." 

You said nothing. 

Renjun bristled. "Sorry about… storming off like that. It was a nice gesture, I just… don't do well with birthday parties. Or surprises.” 

You scoffed. "You called my auntie an old hag."

Renjun's lips twitched in the smallest of smiles. 

You sighed. You already knew you were going to forgive him.

“I suppose this calls for an apology hug.” Renjun held out his arms to embrace you.

You jumped out of his reach, shaking your head. 

Renjun stared at you, puzzled eyes wide. 

"Renjun, do you love me?" 

Renjun's mouth opened and closed. His eyes darted left and right. 

His voice was quiet when he spoke. "Y/n, I've already admitted that I do. Must you keep making me repeat it?"

"Renjun!" 

He pressed his fingers to his temples. “I’ll never understand this obsession with confessing our feelings-“ 

“For me,” you insisted. “Please."

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Ask me for anything else. I’ll do the washing up for a year, I’ll have ten birthday parties…” He clicked his fingers. “I’ll apologise to your aunt!” 

You sniffed. “I didn’t know it was so hard for you.” You turned away, forcing the tears down. “Don’t bother then.”  

You felt Renjun’s eyes on you.

Finally, he let out a strangled groan.  

"Fine," he said, smoothing down the front of his shirt. "I love you." He patted the left side of his chest. "If there's anything inside here, it belongs to you." 

You couldn't help but grin at your eccentric boyfriend. "I'll take that hug now."

Renjun smiled too, and wrapped his arms around you. You rested your chin on his shoulder, feeling safe in his embrace. 

"Let's go home,” you said. “There should be some cake left."

You turned around, but Renjun grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him. He leant forwards and kissed you. 

You were so stunned you barely remembered to close your eyes.   

He held you tight as you kissed, one hand wrapping round your waist and the other caressing your hair. To your surprise, Renjun’s whole body was trembling, a vibration under his skin. You realised he cared about this even more than you. For someone who didn't like physical affection, sometimes Renjun swept you away with the intensity of his love. 

When he pulled away, he whipped on his black coat and straightened his scarf, acting as if nothing had happened. 

You touched your lips, unable to hide your shock. 

"Shall we?" Renjun held out his arm for you. 

You linked your arm with his. 

Renjun smiled. "Cake sounds wonderful." 

—

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

[shiny-jr]

Not to be a Vil simp, buuuuuuut Quit is giving me some real soft yan Vil vibes 👀 specifically that detective au you were writing....though technically I guess you wrote that already? Idk I'm just gonna go clown mode over Vil begging his detective darling not to leave :]

– Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

– Prompt: Quit. “No, wait, can’t we handle this another way? Don’t leave me!”

– Character: Vil Schoenheit.

– Note: Lol, okay, sure, Vil simp. Here's your order of a beautiful desperate blonde in distress.

To get the letters and calls to stop, you agreed to meet up with Vil. To say that Vil was excited would probably be a huge understatement, the guy was glowing when you met up at the restaurant he arranged the meeting to take place at. The same restaurant that you never went to the day you left Vil a crying mess in his dressing room after you rejected him. When you saw him at the front of the large glimmering restaurant right as the sun was setting, he looked nothing like that. Vil looked as perfect as the day you first saw him strutting across the stage during his performance at the speakeasy. 

Those golden locks were braided into a bun without a single strand out of place. Around his neck was a silk scarf, and he wore a long coat over his body to shield himself from the cold. As in most instances, his makeup was done perfectly, but it seemed even better this time. No blemishes, his eyeshadow matched his outfit perfectly, and his lips were painted a flattering pink. As soon as his eyes landed on you, they lit up with such excitement and content. That’s when he extended his hand and motioned towards the entrance of the luxurious establishment. “Detective! I’m elated to see that you made it on time! Shall we go on ahead? I have the tables reserved for our date already, and appetizers are being prepared as we speak.” 

“Date? This isn’t a date, Vil. I came so we can discuss a proper solution to this whole mess and so it can end. If a date is all you wanted, then I think this may have been a waste of time. I have an important case right now, so if you’ll excuse me––” 

“W-Wait a moment!” His delicate thin hand caught yours just as you turned around to march back down the steps. Yet despite his hand being extremely soft and gentle, he held on with a grip to prevent you from taking another step further. When you glanced back at him, his content smile was gone, replaced with an anxious frown and sorrow appearing in those amethyst eyes as he pleaded, “No, please, don’t go. Can’t we discuss this and handle it another way instead of parting ways with nothing done? Reconsider. This doesn’t have to be a date if you don’t want it to be. It can be… an outing, a meeting, if that’s what you desire. So, please, don’t leave me alone again. Please.” 

[shirefantasies]

Idk if/what you’re open to writing right now, but can you possibly write something focused on pippin? Maybe fluff or headcannons or oneshots, whatever you want. I’ll put my trust in a fellow pippin girlie 😉❤️

Ahhh I definitely was not when this very first rolled in but barring any more grievous wounds I am always down to write about my beloved 😌

Pie in the Sky- Pippin x F!Hobbit!Reader

(Gif by @lotrcolors! Didn’t see rules about not using them but will take down if they prefer!)

Perfect dough never fails to put a smile on your face. Sticky as it is, even the feeling of it beneath your hands as you knead it is pleasing. Flames to your left tell you the oven is more than ready to receive its eventual bounty. A few rolls beneath your pin and there you have it, a beautiful drape on the tin before the real treasure is stowed away. Twirling in your flighty joy, you turn for the stove, taking up your pot of wonderful sparkling scarlet raspberry filling. Pouring it in, you see you’ve made a bit extra- muffins might just be in your future, too! Last step is cutting the lattice and then your oven is finally presented its trophy.

You already pulled out the right size hourglass when you got your start, so all there is to it is giving it a flip and you’ve got a little time for inventory.

The fishers had a wonderful haul: bright, shiny salmon you had filleted earlier in the afternoon, leaving only the need to coat them in lemon juice and seasoning. Potatoes as well, potatoes fresh as the salmon, though they are to be fried into chips, not grilled. A plate of roasted zucchini and carrot to say you’re getting your vegetables in. Not to mention the pie.

Every voice in your head had told you to just make enough for yourself, but having a visitor is likely enough, is it not? May as well make a bit extra, you think as you reach for a tin of dill weed.

~

Foolhardy, they say. Foolish indeed to leave a pie cooling upon the sill of your hole’s window lest some rapscallion make short work of it. But what is life without a little chance, you ponder as you check up on your treat, glancing out to the passing road…

“Well, that is about as fine a pie as I’ve ever seen! What’s the occasion?”

Peregrin Took. Pippin, just about the whole Shire calls him. Sprightly, smiling, and green-eyed, the young hobbit comes from quite the family. He is the only one you know of so well, though. Oft is he seen alongside his cousin Merry, particularly for goers of the Green Dragon. You are not quite in that guild, though it has been tempting enough of late.

“No occasion, really,” you reply with a smile, glancing up at Pippin through your lashes, “to be honest, I just felt like it.”

“I can see why," he muses, tone dreamy.

"I made extra. Care to join me for supper?" Leaning further upon your sill, you rest your chin upon your hand.

"If you insist," he answers quickly, "then who am I to say no?"

He slips around the remaining perimeter of your yard, disappearing from your view until you hear a knock at your door. At once you abandon your pie, crossing through your kitchen and hall to open it.

"Well, hello there," Pippin jokes with a wide smile, arms outstretched and heels rocking, "fancy meeting you here!"

"Master Took," you play along, waving him in, "what a pleasant surprise! Please, come in."

Hands running over his shoulders faintly, you help him out of his coat, taking notice of how eager he is to strip himself of the extra layers, unwinding the scarf in record speed and glancing around the entry of your home.

"The kitchen is this way," you wave a hand, "Shall we?"

You take the way he practically trips over his feet on the freshly polished floorboards going forward as a yes, holding out a quick hand to steady him, thinking better of it, withdrawing shyly. Leading him to the dining table, you sit him down at the head of it and make for the kitchen to procure all your supper fixings. One by one you set down steaming platters, Pippin's eyes tracking your every movement before landing on the offerings themselves. You hear his stomach rumble as the smell of the first platter of chips fills the room, say nothing but smile and simply compound the feast until his eyes are wide as saucers.

Master Peregrin Took had caught your eye some time ago, from what day you cannot even say, but at that moment and beyond his wide, wonderful smile and lovely singing voice permeate the back of your mind far too often. Often enough, in fact, that you've taken up the peculiar little habit that finally serves you so well, making far more of anything than you need lest you ever are gifted the luck of the Shire's jolliest soul at your door. And as he sits before you, so close your arms brush as they reach for cups and utensils, engrossed in sharing a story his cousin's gardener told him about the Proudfeet's pumpkins, all you can feel is a glow of warmth and satisfaction.

~

"Mmm," Pippin hums in pleasure between forkfuls, "how did I never know what a good cook you are?"

You shrug, suddenly feeling a little shy. "I suppose I never labelled my creations all too well at any festivals."

"Well, if you keep this up," he teases, "I may just have to keep coming to call."

"Be my guest," you wave a hand and smile widely, eyes remaining upon his, "it isn't often I get company."

You barely trust your ears at his next words. "I can hardly believe that! But I'm more than happy to take up the task."

Wit utterly fails you at that, words lost in the fluttering of butterflies filling your entire being and a smile you cannot have hidden for all the gold in the Shire.

~

Pippin greets you by name this time, leaning into your window with eager familiarity. “You wouldn’t happen to be baking, would you?”

“Why, yes,” you smile back even wider, bending down for a moment to collect proof in the form of a steaming yellow cake before you tease, "if you don't mind waiting for it to cool and get frosted I'd be happy to share. Unless you were just hoping I was busy."

Pippin practically runs around to your gate, bringing yet another smile to your lips as you turn from your cake to the strawberries you'd been slicing.

~

“Excellent party, no?”

Glancing up from your tankard, you see Pippin has slid up to your side, leaning an arm casually upon the edge of the table and giving you that easy smile that makes everything within you flutter. His sandy hair is sprinkled with tossed flower petals and falls about his face, which flickers beneath the lanterns set all about. He’d undone his ever-present scarf, this time letting it hang loosely about either side of his neck and down onto a green velvet waistcoat that brings out those eyes of his.

Nothing else but a smile could have broken across your face at such a sight, joy alongside warmth you can luckily blame upon lanterns and the fires on which spits had been roasting and sheer proximity to all the dancing couples whirling by and other hobbits stopping at the table and idly chatting.

“Just grand,” you reply, only aware in post the surefire dreaminess of your expression, “the music's wonderful, everyone is in such cheer, and the spread is great, too! And now I've got fine company as well!"

"As have I," Pippin replies, glancing away from your gaze, then back to it, "and you are so right about it all. I can't wait to dance the night away! And I've just had about the best cookies of my life!"

You giggle at that, fingers tightening around the wooden mug you held. "Oh yes? And what kind were they?"

"Lavender sugar."

"Ah," your eyes light up, "those would be mine! See what I mean about the labeling? Oh, I'm so glad you liked them!"

Seeing as how it's the sole reason you made anything at all for the birthday of someone's aunt you didn't even know too well.

"Liked them?" He leans closer. "I loved them! But enough of that: how would you care for a dance or five?"

Nothing would have gotten your hands off your tankard with greater haste, its base hitting the red tablecloth at your back faster than he could say "South Farthing".

"I would love that," you tell him, and without a moment's hesitation you are swept up into his arms.

Pippin's hold about your waist is tighter than you'd have expected, but you don't complain a mite at the feeling of his hands on your hips, even the twitch of a finger you'd almost suspect to be the beginnings of roaming if you were any more full of yourself. He goes fast with you, something you hadn't doubted for a moment, and you get a thrill from the way he pulls you in so quickly from a twirl, sending you flying into his chest and caught with his other arm each time. Perhaps you aren't so graceful as some of the other, older or more leisurely pairs out on the open grass, but you know as your bare feet struck the soft ground again and again that you would have it no other way.

~

“Oh, now it’s shortbread?”

You put the hand that isn't holding the basket on your hip, fixing the younger hobbit with a look. “Do you want some or not, Marigold dear?”

"Oh, yes," she replies, golden head bobbing and petite hand reaching to loosen the cloth you've wrapped over the bars, "and I will take one for the old Gaffer, too.”

“Oh, he should enjoy them. It’s my grandmother’s recipe, after all.”

“And who else shall?” Marigold muses, fixing you with a positively catlike smile. “How is my advice about a man’s heart going, then, with Mister Peregrin Took?”

Your easy smile melts into something dreamier, grip on your basket relaxing slightly. “Well, all my baking certainly is bringing us together more.”

“And showing him what a good wife you’ll make him, too. He looked very happy there dancing with you at old Violet’s birthday!”

Before you can stop yourself looking a fool, your smile is widening tenfold. “You think so?”

“Oh,” Marigold waves a hand, “you’re incorrigible! Next time you two dance, just lean in for the kiss!”

“Easy for you to say,” you shoot back, crossing your arms and nearly, but not quite, upsetting your shortbread basket, “I could tell you the same about Tolman Cotton.”

Paling then reddening, Marigold gapes at you and sputters. "Now that is quite different! Tolman is a family friend, after all! If I were to- Why, that friendship might-”

“Uh-huh,” you nod in mock sympathy, a sardonic smile upon your lips, “well, then, perhaps you ought to bake him something. After all, a good friend told me the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

Marigold grins. “Yours, maybe! Tolman cares much more about a good spot of fishing than all that.”

“Then you come over to sit in my kitchen and make him a new lure while I muse over what Pippin’s favorites might be. I’ve some dyed feathers I could spare.”

“From what?” Marigold asks, tilted head and smile incredulous as you make your way down the lane.

That is all Pippin catches of the conversation, but it is more than enough, he reflects with a brief proud smirk that quickly melts into a wide, dreamy grin as he glances down at the pair of chocolate-covered shortbread bars in his hands. Your grandma had some good ideas, but she’d never get his heart beating like you did.

~

It is not the most common occurrence in the world to hear your bell ring, so to say you shot up from your sewing is an understatement. All but tossing the shirt whose sleeve you’re repairing down, you pad across your planks to the door, mouth widening into an ‘o’ at the sight of Pippin at your door, a bunch of daisies in one hand and a basket slung upon the opposite arm. Today he is wearing a lavender vest; you don't think you've ever seen him wear lavender before, but of course it suits him.

“Hi there,” he said your name, voice lowering, “I thought I could maybe…take you on a picnic.”

“Oh!” You exclaim, habitually glancing down at your dress and feeling a hand shoot up to your hair. “Well, I don’t know if I’m picnic ready, but-”

“You’re as beautiful as ever,” he remarks with a shrug and the most casual smile, as if he’d commented upon the balmy state of the weather.

“Well,” you glance down toward your feet and fiddle with the end of your sleeve, one arm shyly across your chest, “how can I say no to that? Of course I will go, then. Do you need anything for your basket, though? I admit I haven’t made much fresh today, but I can always-”

At that, Pippin shakes his head, curls flying about his smiling face. “This one is my mother’s treat. It’s about time I pay you back, after all.”

“Oh, alright. Because I do have a leftover pie in the-”

“Yes, bring that.”

You giggle as Pippin continues. “Don’t you worry, though- my mother’s cooking is almost as good as yours! Just don’t tell her I said that.” Punctuating his joke with a wink, he extends his arm and beaming, you take it.

~

Pippin leads you down to the bank of a stream and spreads out a blanket you hadn’t noticed him carrying before, probably due to being too occupied looking into those sweet green eyes and fluttering your lashes at any affection that potentially swims within them. The ground is soft already beneath the blanket, making it quite easy to settle upon your little spot across from Pippin and his basket. Water babbles tranquilly at your side by your feet, glistening in the spring sunshine.

Your companion offers quite the spread, for on top of your pie there is cold chicken and hard boiled eggs, sandwiches with salted meat and cress, cheese alongside the end of the sandwich loaf, fresh red raspberries, and turnovers.

“I hope this is enough.”

“Are you joking?” Your eyes light up, glancing from Pippin to the array of food to the sunlight filtering through the greenery at the stream’s edge. “This is perfect. All of it.”

"It had to be," he says, "I wanted our courtship to start off right."

Falling suddenly deaf to the chirping of birds and babbling of stream, you looked up from your sandwich with wide eyes, again seeing Pippin smiling at you like he'd made the most natural conclusion in the world, this time before tilting a fistful of raspberries into his mouth. Blinking, you search for words, failing momentarily in favor of just grinning over the way Peregrin Took never fails in his unwitting quest to always surprise you. Heat creeps to your face, heat beyond even the beating of the sun down to your head.

Pippin, it seems, takes your silence as a form of denial. All but dropping the plated slice of pie in his hand, he wipes one set of fingers off on the edge of a napkin before waving both hands hastily back and forth.

"Unless I heard your conversation with Marigold wrong. I just got so excited thinking that we could be everything I'd dreamed of and that what you were doing was working. Not that you needed to do it because I already thought you were the prettiest thing I've ever seen and why am I saying all this?"

"Because you're cute," you gush, heart still flip-flopping at his words, at the way the sunlight dances off the curves of his sheepishly smiling cheeks, "and you're always managing to find new ways to steal my heart."

"Me?" His voice is so quiet it's all but a whisper of joy. "You think I'm... Well, I think you're just sweet as this pie here. No, sweeter. Besides finding new ways to steal your heart, might I find new ways to kiss you?"

"Smooth," you tease, shaking your head playfully, gleefully, "you might indeed."

If Pippin is thinking anything you made was sweet, not a single delight you could have whipped up in your kitchen stands a chance against the feeling of his lips on yours, dancing lightly against them in the springtime breeze.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy @th3-st4r-gur1 @fleurdemiel-145 @mistresskayla-blog1 | Reply/Message/Ask to join 💕

[lit3rallyll0yd]

when it snows on your first date with them

dazai, chuuya, ranpo<3

warnings: lowercase writing

a/n: expect many christmas themed oneshots throughout all december!

dazai osamu 🩹

the two of you would have a blast!!

despite dazai not being a huge fan of the cold, and would just prefer to be inside wth some hot cocco and a butt load of blankets cuddling with you-

you loved the snow, and dazai would just fulfil your wishes and go out on this winter wonderland of a date.

snowball fights, snowangels, building snowmen; no matter what you both did he would love and cherish every second of it.

and he knows you do as well!

~

you woke up cold. your feet were cold, your arms were cold, your face a bit cold, despite the two blankets that covered your entire body. you twirled around on your sheets, looking any sense of warmth you could offer yourself.

the past two minutes went by and you were still cold. you slowly sat upm your hair a mess, drool on your sheets and your PJ's all wrinkly. you looked left and right, rubbing your eye as you leaned over to look at the clock on your bedside.

"11: 35.." you mummer to yourself. as you woke yourself up by streching and stepping out of the bed, your entire body shivered as you walked toward your bedroom apartment window.

as you opened the curtains, your eyes widen to find it wide open and the sight of pure, white snow sparkled in your eyes.

suddenly a bright smile appeared on your face.

"it's snowing..."

you closed the window to warm the room up and took out your phone.

"it's snowing..!" you chanted a bit louder to yourself.

you unlcoked your phone and smiled at the homescreen. it was a beautiful picture of your boyfriend and you.

you never saw yourself dating osamu dazai; him of all people! yet here you are!

"it's snowinggggg!!" you squealed as you called him, fixing the bedsheets and waited for him to pick up.

"'m'hello?" his morning voice caused you to smile brighter, "IT'S SNOWING, DAZAI, IT'S SNOWING!!" you cheered, you swore your neighbors could call out a noise complaint in less then two seconds, but you didn't care.

dazai's laugh to himself caused you get butterfiles as you heard shuffling on the other end as well; "well, what do you know~ you're right!"

you squealed, putting him on speaker mode, hearing him yawn as you ran to your closet.

"are you ready for our date?" you called out to him and you heard him...

"what do you mean?"

you paused and went silent.

on the other end dazai bite his lip, waiting to see if you'll answer...and when you didn't he felr suddenly bad and laughed; "i'm just messin' with you, 'donna~ of course i am...however, i'm not the hugest fan of winter..."

dazai admitted and you rolled your eyes; "come on- it'll be fun! meet you at the park?"

before he could asked, he knew the park by your apartment. of course.

"not if i meet you first!"

and he hangs up...taking a whole 10 minutes to actually get ready for this winter date<3

~

"osamu..."

"y/n..."

both you and him looked at each other, your laughter threating to escape as you saw your boyfriend. there he was, standing in front of you with a black winter hat, two striped scarfs, one vest, another large brown leather jacket, a pair of baggy jeans and winter boots.

oh, and we cant forget the gloves that you can barely use your fingers!!

"osamu, you look ridiculous." you laughed.

"and you look astonishing- one of us has to sell the look, and i'm so happy it's you." he waddled up to you, and you didn everything in your power to not laugh as he kissed your lips.

"you walk like a penguin!" you grabbed his coat and laughed into his puffy chest.

he chuckled; "a sexy penguin?" "if you want to thihink that!"

you giggled, until you felt something wrap around your neck. you opened your eyes to see a black and white scarf get placed around your neck, "you'll catch a cold, love." dazai spoke close to your ear, causing you to shiver.

you smiled and thanked him; "now, where shall we begin?"

chuuya nakahara 🍷

what?- what do you mean it's snowing?

great, now your going be cold!!

chuuya doesn't mind the winter weather, he just hates seeing you cold.

however, he would still make this date the best date he can for you.

because you deserve it!

~

"y/n! it's 8 degrees out here; can you please wear the jacket i got for you?!" he called out to you as you threw the jacket off you, accidentaly, and ran toward he pile of fresh snow that wasat the park close to where chuuya lived.

he couldn't help but smile at your childish laughter; almost as if you have never seen snow in your life.

you jumped into the snow and chuuya cringed; "oh- come on! love, your going to catch a cold!!" he raced after you and helped you out of the pile of the cold snow and wrapped the jacket around your arms, dusting off as much snow as he can off from your sweater.

you smiled to yourself as he started to zip up the jacket as well, "you need to be more careful! i know you love the snow, but you could easily get sick in this weater, y/n!"

you nod as he pats your shoulders and kissed your cheek; pulling back to put on his gloves.

"okay, so we already had our lunch; are you still hun-EEHA!!"

his sudden shriek caused you to cackle out loud and almost fall backwards. ther was your beloved boyfriend hopping around the snow like a bunny as he tried to shake out the snow from his jacket.

as you were about to do it again, you looked up to see chuuya's back to you...you giggles turned into nervous laughter; did you piss him off??

"chuhuya? are you-"

your boyfriend suddnenly turned around and quickly grabbed your arm and used his gravity manipulation on you, pinning you to the snow gently and sat ontop of you.

"you've done it now~" he teased; your bidy squirming under him.

"wahait! chuuya- it's cooold! i'm sohoarry!"

"so am i; but this is deserved."

before you could react, a loud shriek followed by laughter caused chuuya to grin to himself. his hands that were holding two large snowballs were shoved up your sweater and jacket onto your bare skin, his hands that rubbed up and down your sides caused you to burst out into laughter as it tickled.

"wahait- what happened toho 'you'll cahatch a coOOHALD!!'" you shrieked again at the new feeling of cold snow on your bare back.

"don't worry babe; if you get sick i'll take care of you. but for now~...."

let's just say, side eyes were sent toward you and chuuya as you both fought like children in the snow.

~

you sneezed, feeling chuuya wrap a blanket around your shoulders. it was night, and you've caugh a cold from the amount of hours you both have been outside. your nose was red, and your ears were cold.

you sipped on your hot coco; chuuya sitting beside you.

"see;" he started as he finished ordering take-out, "told you i'll take care of you~"

ranpo edogawa ����

he already knew it was a bout to snow, which is why he chose today to ask you out.

he knew how much you didn't like the snow, so when you told him at was snowing he gave you THIS EXACT SMILE!!!

"then why don't we spend our date in here?~"

~

you gasped and smile widely, feeling a burst of happiness as you ran toward him and hugged him, spinning around. "lets bake cookes!! GASP, and make a gingerbread house!!"

your boyfriend laughed as he was spun around; "you've read my mind, sweetheart!!"

then the two of you went downtown. the kitchen...was a mess after you two were done. it started wth just the both of you mixing cookie batter; until your boyfrien's childish antics were summoned; and that's another reason you've fallen in love with him.

you felt a bunch of flour smack against your back, and a white smoke clouded our vision.

you suddenly started to laugh; "oh, you want to play that game?" you teased and grabbed a handful of batter and threw it at ranpo.

however he dodged; knowing you would throw back and attack.

then...turned into a food fight it did, and you an just figure out who won this one.

after the cookies were made; the two of you fed each other...and he complimented you...however he ate almost all the cookies you have baked.

althogh he helped, all he did was eat the batter and frosting.

same for the gingerbread house; you just needed 5 minutes to not have his fingers grabbing gingerbread pieces and snacking on them.

you both took a bunch of videos and photos of each other, having these memories hopefully forever!

ranpo had asked if he could watch christmas movies with you as you two went to bed, and with a lot of begged and pleading from him and with a sigh you agreed.

now here's you and ranpo, all snuggled in bed and with a click of the button you put on netflix and spent the night with ranpo.

"you knew it would snow, right?"

ranpo smirked and grinned, kissing your head.

"what if i did~"

you laughed, leaning up and kissed his lips.

"then nothing~ today was amazing!"

he smiled; "get ready for many more to come this fine winter~"

[wongyuseokie]

Crossing Lines | w.j.h

Summary: Your boss is a dangerous man, and you foolishly messed up his schedule, now he’s pissed and you’re the only one that can fix the problem you caused. 

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ♕ smut | ☁︎ angst |  ♥ completed works

Word Count:  2516 words

Pairings: Mafia! Wen Junhui x Female Reader

Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: Fluff, angst (minor), smut. PWP (it’s got the briefest plot ever) Content Warnings: Jun is a member of the mafia or an organised crime unit, I guess. It’s never really discussed. Think Vincenzo. Mentions of blood and death (nothing descriptive). A knife is used to take off a shirt, but there’s no blood. Is cuddling a warning? Jun is actually just a softie too. Jun threatens to kill her once, but it's part of the dirty talk. She calls him sir but it’s not kinky. 

Smut Warnings: Dom!Jun, oral sex (female receiving), rough sex, use of a scarf as a gag, fingering. Unprotected sex (don’t do this folks), minor knife play. Name-calling. Multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting. Dirty talk. 

Authors Note: Honestly, I've been bias wrecked so so badly by this man I want to cry. This fic came to life because of @flurrys-creativity sending me thirst traps and giving me scenarios, and somehow it became a full-blown fic and reading this, too 💕 . Thank you to @the-boy-meets-evil for beta'ing this. You brought my smut back to life and made it much more sense. Thank you, my lovely!! 💕 I shall send you more DK thirst traps as a thank you. Thank you also to @here4btsfics for always letting me thirst and cry over Jun because, look at him, thank you for reading and thirsting over Jun with me ❤️ Authors Note 2: Tagging my lovely June @junkissed-replies ❤️

Banner Credits: @classicscreations Cross Posted on AO3 © wongyuseokie 2023. All rights reserved.

Working for Seoul’s most notorious crime family wasn’t exactly easy. Being designated as the personal assistant to the family's youngest member was even less ideal. Wen Junhui, typically known only as Jun, was the definition of a walking juxtaposition. His doe eyes sparkled like the night sky, and his body made you ache, with abs sculpted by gods and thighs you wanted to ride until you came all over his trademark black skinny jeans. 

On the other end of the spectrum was Jun’s job, which he referred to as more of a  hobby—killing people. He was ruthless. Noone dared cross him. One wrong word, the slightest misstep, and the poor bastard would be dead on the floor of his den before he could even realize his mistake. 

You had grown oddly accustomed to his brutalities. He had a job, and so did you. Your job was to make sure his demands were met, no matter what they were, so you didn’t become another name in a long list of kills. Except he had a soft spot for you. Or maybe it was that you made something on this already hard man even harder. There was a mutual attraction between you two that you never dared act on. The man was dead inside. 

Today was not a good day. You had checked and double-checked Jun’s schedule, but there was still some miscommunication. Whatever it was led Jun to believe you fucked up his meeting plans with his biggest rival. 

In this world, it meant that he deferred the meeting, which made him a pussy. He was not happy. Actually, that was an understatement. Jun was fuming. In one of those cartoons, smoke would come out of his ears. It would be comical if it weren’t for the fact that he literally killed for a living. 

“Y/N, step into my office now, shut the door, and lock it.” 

You felt chills down your spine and wondered if this was it for you. You’d be dead. He got up from his seat, and damn, why did he have to look so criminally good? All previous fear subsided, at least for a moment, as you took in his appearance. He had his signature leather jacket on with ripped jeans. You cursed your body for being such a traitor, clenching at the sight of him. Jun walked towards you,  eyes trained on you as if you were a target. 

Correction: you were his target. He stopped close to you, too close for the thoughts racing through your head. You could feel his breath on your face. Again, fuck your body for being so turned on when he was looking at you like prey. He placed one arm next to you, both showing his dominance and caging you in. His other one fished his dagger out of his scabbard. Fuck, okay, maybe you were really in trouble. 

He twirled the knife through his fingers with practised ease, making you wonder how many times he’d done it. Actually, it made you wonder how they’d feel in your pussy. You cursed yourself again, telling yourself to get it together. You legitimately might die, and all you could think of was those perfect fingers fucking you. At least your body and mind were in agreement on this one, behaving as inappropriately as possible. 

“Y/N, you messed up my meeting, and now everyone is calling me a pussy.” The knife stilled between his fingers as he spoke.

“Sir, I’m sorry I scheduled your meeting properly, but it just got miscommunicated somehow, and I’m so sorry,” your voice came out in a squeak, and you were fucking scared.

“Did you hear me properly, pretty girl?” That was new. He’d called you a lot of things, but certainly not pretty girl. You nodded, trying to make sense of the nickname. 

“Now, how do I punish you?” He cocked his head to the side like he might be trying to tease you. Except, you knew he used the same line on his victims.

“Sir, it won’t happen again,” you begged.

 “You’re right. It won’t,” he said as he pulled a scarf out of his pocket. You thought it was the same one he used to suffocate those unlucky enough to wind up on his bad side.

“Open your mouth, baby girl,” he demanded. Despite the words, it was a demand. There was no room for negotiation. 

 “Sir, please, I’m so so sorry. never happen again, I swear.” 

His eyes went dark. Not only did you talk back to him, but you defied an order. No one did that, not to him. He took his knife and raised it to your neck. 

Jun slowly trailed the knife down your throat, not breaking your skin, until he reached the top of your shirt. In one clean move, showing a deadly skill, he sliced your shirt open and left you standing there in a black lace bra.

“Do you wear clothes like this so someone can fuck you? Do you know what happens to girls that dress like sluts?” His eyes were on the knife as it trailed down your abdomen as if he didn’t expect any answers. 

“No, Jun, please.” 

He dropped the knife, and his hand went to your throat. The pressure was…actually kind of nice. Well, it would’ve been if you weren’t so scared.

“You are mine. Anyone I hire is my property, so you will do what I say. Speak one more time, and I will kill you, make no mistake. Understood?” You nodded. The rational part of you fought off tears because this man and his reputation were terrifying.

The irrational part of you was turned on, arousal dripping into your panties.

“Open your mouth.” 

You did as he said and tied the scarf tight over your mouth, effectively gagging you. Jun picked up his knife again and sliced your bra open.

“Fuck, Y/N, such pretty little tits. You kept them from me all this time.” He flicked your nipple. You stifled a moan, the irrational winning out. 

Jun smirked, “you can make all the noise you want. Scream if you want. No one will save you. The gag might make it difficult to say much, though.” 

He dropped to his knees and pulled your skirt down. He helped you out of it and groaned at your matching black lace underwear. It was impossible to miss the way your arousal dripped from your cunt onto your thighs. 

Jun grabbed your panties, ripped them, and then slid them off. You barely had a second to consider how counterproductive it was. He stood back up and stripped himself. That sent your mind further into overdrive because you’d seen him shirtless many times, but naked? This would be the first. The second he was bare before you, your eyes went to his penis. It was beautiful–long, hard, and thick. You squirmed in excitement at how it was going to ruin you, how he would ruin you. 

Without a word, Jun grabbed you by your waist and hoisted you onto his shoulders so that he could place you down against his marble table. You were face down, breasts against the cool surface of the marble and hips pressing into the edge. Still dripping in arousal, you had to remind yourself who was standing behind you. This man could kill you just as easily as he could fuck you. You were still considering which way it might go when his hand made sharp contact with your exposed cheek.

“Pretty sluts get this.” 

You trembled and let out a strangled moan. You felt Jun turn you around. Your ass pressed into the table. He removed the scarf around your mouth and kissed you. Despite his demeanour, the kiss was soft and tender as his lips moved against yours. He swiped your lower lip with his tongue, begging for entrance, which you happily granted. He used his tongue to deepen the kiss. 

Suddenly, he pulled away from your mouth and kissed along your jawline, nibbling on your earlobe. His lips moved down to your neck, and he started to suck at the sensitive skin, leaving bite marks as he went. God, your neck would be covered in shades of blue and purple. Not that you cared. 

He moved down to your breasts, flicking his tongue over your nipple. It was a lot of attention as he sucked and gently nibbled each before moving further down your body. By his mouth reached your pussy, you were dripping wet for him. 

Wasting no time, Jun pushed you up, so you were now sitting on the table, the sensation of the cold marble on your bare skin heightening your pleasure. His mouth returned to your cunt, licking into it with quick movements. He flicked his tongue on your clit, then enclosed his lips around it and started to suck. Simultaneously, he put one finger into your cunt and started thrusting. The thrusts only got faster when he saw how immediate your reaction was. His tongue continued moving against your clit as he added another finger. You were going to cum far sooner than you wanted to if he kept this up.

The pace was brutal, and Jun was relentless, not missing a beat as he added another finger. This was so much more than you were used to. Even with the addition of another finger, he kept his tongue working on your clit, alternating between quick flicks and sucking. You wanted to reach out for some sort of support that you knew wasn’t there.

Jun knew you needed support and didn’t care, determined to punish you for your mistake. He wrapped his free arm around your waist, rendering you immobile, and continued the nearly exhausting pace. You found purchase in his hair, the only way to stabilize for even a second. Something finally snapped, and you came hard. You tried to move Jun away from your pussy, it was too sensitive for him to be continuing like he was. 

Except, he showed no mercy. His fingers continued to pump into you, and his face stayed anchored between your legs. It was like he took pleasure in your whimpers as he pushed you even further. He pulled a second orgasm out of you as the screams fell from your lips.  Still, he didn’t relent, continuing to eat you out like you were his favourite meal. You were overstimulated and could feel yourself clenching again another orgasm approaching. When you tried to wriggle free, Jun only gripped your waist harder, pressing you further into the table. 

Finally, he pulled away from your cunt, removing the leg that was draped over his shoulder and wiping his chin unceremoniously. Your whole body was shaking as you tried to breathe deeply enough to recover. It was stupid to think he’d let you do that, though. 

Jun pulled you off the table and turned you back around, once again pushing your body down on the cold marble table. He pushed his cock into you from behind. There wasn’t even time to adjust to his size before he began fucking into you. He knew exactly where to hit, once again setting an impossible pace. You tried to grab the edges of the table and steady yourself as he slammed into you. He fucked you until you hit your fourth orgasm, something you were really enjoying despite the way your body protested the overstimulation. But, fuck did this guy’s stamina go through the roof or something? Before you could process that thought, he turned you around again, so you were lying flat on your back on the table. 

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t give you any time to adjust or catch your breath. Not that you cared, really, you were so blissed out. He pushed his cock inside you, and somehow the pace was even more animalistic as he pounded into your overstimulated body. You let your eyes fall shut, head lolling back, and received a sharp slap against your pussy.

“Look at me when I fuck you, baby,” he demanded. His grip on your waist was so strong that you imagined his fingertips would leave bruises. Your whole body was going to be covered. 

Jun’s breathing got more laboured, and you knew he was finally close. His thrusts became erratic, the final thrust allowing him to release inside of you. Despite his release, he didn’t let you relax as he quickly pushed two fingers inside you. The thrusts caught you off guard, and he curled his fingers to hit you just right each time. You let out a scream as you squirted all over his hands, signalling your fifth orgasm for the night. 

The next morning you woke up wrapped in a soft duvet, not entirely remembering how you had managed to get to the bed. Your entire body was exhausted from the night before, and you thought you could have slept through the rest of the day. Except someone was pressing soft kisses between your shoulder blades. 

“Morning beautiful.” 

You shot up at the sound of Jun’s voice, regretting that decision as your whole body was bruised and battered from the previous night. You tried to clumsily climb out of bed. Jun was quicker, gently grabbing you and pulling you into his arms. 

“I know I went off last night. I lose control when it comes to my work. Sorry that I took it out on you, but you did seem to enjoy it,” Jun explained with a smirk on his handsome face, but you could hear the sincerity in his voice. 

“It’s okay, Sir, I’m sorry, I won’t ever make a mistake again.” you apologised. You were unsure where you stood now, despite the lesson he’d taught you. 

“No, Y/N, you won’t because you don’t work for me anymore.” 

Your eyes filled with tears. Not only did you need the money, but you also enjoyed last night far more than you should have. The thought of not seeing Jun anymore stung. Jun took notice of your reaction and tightened one arm around you, cupping your face with the other. 

“I mean, I don’t want my girlfriend working for me. I know my job isn’t…traditional, but you’ve seen a lot while working for me. I do like you. I guess yesterday. I truly realised how much I care. But if this is too much, you can ignore the offer and keep your job.” 

“Sir, I-“ you started, unsure what to say. 

“It's Jun, sweet girl. I promise I’ll be there for you and protect you,” Jun interrupted, everything about him much softer than you’d seen before. 

“I know it's a little unconventional, considering I fucked the absolute life out of you, but may I please take you on a date? Your final role as my assistant could just be letting me know if I’m free tonight” 

“You are, and it's a date,” you replied, snuggling further into his embrace. His hold was so soft, and you were so content that you drifted back to sleep, hoping this hadn’t all been a dream.

[bewarethewolfarmy]

Music To Bring Us Together

(This one was on my mind for a while (yes a certain fic of mine has a twin of sorts to this...) sooo yeah it just took a while to write it actually up.

If anyone wants a steamy followup to this particular chapter then say so and maybe i'll gather my spoons Oh and I've decided to call this kind of series The Phantom and his Songbird so enjoy:

A Celebration for Two

Things Better Left Unshared )

If asked separately both Erik's and your answer to what your favorite time of the week was, it would be the same: it was when you had the chance to get away from everything at the opera and had time to go spend the night with the lonely ghost that lived below the operahouse. He lived for those times, unable to stand the fact that he still could not simply always be with his beloved, to hold and shower you in affection and attention constantly, but he had even in small bits learned his lesson from before and he would not dare do anything that could even possibly make him lose you. He would wait, impatiently, and watch and admire you from afar despite wanting to do so far more personally, and when the time came he'd appear and whisk you away and the smile you'd wear on your face would send his heart a flutter to think that there really was someone who enjoyed his company and didn't fear his face. Could he truly believe it? Of course not, he still expected some trick, some lie or deceit of how this was not real, could not be real, and that you truly did fear and hate him for all he was, had done and could be. The gentleness of your tone and kiss to try and reassure him calmed the voices within for a time but never enough; he needed you by his side always and how you wished you could be but you did love the Opera Populaire for what it was and could be, almost as much as you loved it's resident Phantom.

Today was one such day; a break in rehearsals and you slipped away to that small side room, knowing that any second the secret passage would open and Erik would appear. You could always go down yourself, how many times had you walked it to the being able to do so in your sleep if necessary, but you knew how much the man loved to be able to whisk you away and who were you to ruin that for him? The Phantom, still spoken of in terrified whispers and hunted by those who knew and remembered, had so few joys as far as you could tell, things that truly could bring him happiness and peace in his admittedly lonely existence; to take this one away was far too cruel to you and thus you would not. Part of you wished instead that you could do more.

You had only been waiting for a fraction of time when there came the familiar sound of the hidden doorway opening and familiar touch upon your hand. Some days he grabbed you so fast and hard you could practically taste his desperation and need for closeness but this was not one of those days. His touch was light, almost hesitant, and you knew exactly what to do: you smiled and moved your hand to entwine your fingers in his, your tone soft and happy as you spoke, “Erik.”

“Songbird,” he responded and you were pulled close into a tight hug; you were surrounded by the scent of roses and old paper, ivory and water and wood.

And yarn; you could feel a familiar scarf against your face and could not help but smile brighter. Since you'd given it to him for your shared birthday he become stuck between wanting to constantly wear it and treating it like some precious treasure bestowed upon him by a god. Which you supposed made some sense considering his feelings about you. You of course were happiest seeing him wear it, able to see him enjoying your little present and know you had done well in making it for him. It added a little color to his darkness, a light for the man sometimes lost to the shadows but a man who nevertheless you loved dearly.

“Shall we go down to the lair now?” As much as you loved being in his arms, and you truly did, the secrecy of his hideaway under the operahouse gave you both the space and ability to do more than this small room ever could.

The fact you would ask brought a shiver of delight to him and a smile to those ruined lips of his. It was like a puppy being offered a walk in the park by it's master, an apt enough comparison considering how he reacted to you. Luckily you liked that in him, the excitement he seemed to get from the acceptance you gave and the lack of fear you had for him.

He moved with the swiftness and ease of exactly what he was and the two of you were soon off, practically gliding over steps to go down, down, down deep below, into catacombs, into an abyss lit only by candlelight, past traps that were sent not to harm you but to prevent any from following, to an all too familiar lake. You settled into your seat upon the boat and watched him, unable to resist a smile at how he looked as he rowed you both across.

Once, near the beginning of this love you had found yourself in, you had offered to help only to see the strangest look of shock to cross his face. He had refused so verehemently you at first had been hurt before it had come out that rather he couldn't imagine making you do such a thing, that it was in his mind only right he do so for you and that you need only relax. The fact you had been hurt by his refusal even for a second had left him devestated in such a way that required quite a bit of cuddling and hair stroking and reassurance. It was one of those things you found both funny and adorable about Erik: he, the Phantom, terror of the Opera Populaire, murderer and genius, could be so full of confidence and self-importance yet so easily fall to the deeps of despair and terror with the simplicity of love. The complexity of his character was fascinating and endearing, making you unable to tear your eyes away at times when the layers started to show.

The trip across was like that, full of you watching him, adoring his figure as again he looked more the imposing Phantom than the lovesick puppy, though every time he caught you staring with your adoring gaze, his face turned red behind his mask and you only continued to smile knowing it. His eyes would widen, it was hard to miss as someone who so often looked at him, watched him. He brought you to shore without a word though you were sure his mind had a thousand and one things he wished to say to you, sing to you, beg of you.

Erik stepped out first and like the gentleman he really was he offered his hand to help you step out of the boat. This too was something you could do on your own, as easily remembered as every other step of this trip, and again it was something you would never try to take from your phantom. You placed your hand in his and saw him smile so brightly and happily; you stepped off the boat and into his arms once more. Any chance he had he seemed to take in hugging you, holding you, as if afraid that if he didn't keep doing it you might prove to be an illusion, a dream he conjured up from nothing to replace the dark and painful memories of his love for Christine Daae. You of course were indeed real and warm and loved him even knowing what had happened, what he had done. Because behind the rumors and stories and fears, you had found a man who was desperate for love yet never knew how quite to get it or give it healthily.

After he seemed convinced for the moment that you did care and would be going nowhere, Erik led you into the house proper and you sat in the sitting room, watching as he went back to being the adorable Erik that you knew and adored. His fluttering around, muttering about how best to please you, what he would do for you, what kind of food he should make, what kind of music he should play. Part of you was half tempted to tell him to just sit down with you so you could cuddle for a while; he always seemed to like that as did you, though if it went on for too long he would start to cry and weep about how he was not worthy of such softness, of how he was a monster and you were a sweet songbird, that he was something even his own mother could not love so how could you? You did not mind reassuring him of course, it was normal enough for you both at this point and being able to give your sweet traumatized Erik some love and reassurance was something you were happy to be able to do. But tonight, tonight you wished for something different.

You smiled as he made another pass across your path and you spoke up, making sure to be heard, “Erik, I do have a request.”

This immediately stopped him in his tracks and he turned to you, wide eyed, before falling to his knees before you. Requests from you were rather rare; you did not often ask much of him, because he always had hundreds of ideas and plans, because you knew he liked having some control in his life and this was an easy one, because you did not like to impose or possibly trouble him. But he jumped at any request you did make and fumbled to take your hands in his, staring right into your soul it seemed.

“Your Erik is listening, anything my songbird wants, I will give you; just ask and it will be done.” He didn't slip entirely into third person which was a good thing in your book; his emotions sometimes got so overwhelming he couldn't help it and you didn't mind but you didn't want to overwhelm him today.

You squeezed his hands with another smile. “I wish for you to teach me to play something”

He seemed taken aback, blinking a few times and staring at you in confusion. But of course, you were a songbird, a singer, and that was all you truly really ever asked to be; you liked to be part of the choir, to let the music fill your lungs and fill the air. You'd never before expressed an interest in learning more than that but you had listened to him play so many instruments, he loved to show off to you like a peacock shows off it's feathers to a potential mate, and you found yourself curious to try. No, you were more curious to be able to try to play alongside him one day; you may never reach the level of a natural talent like his but you wanted to at least try.

“You...you wish to learn an instrument?” He asked his words slow and measured.

You nodded and he let go of you so quick you felt you might get whiplash. Especially as he quickly ran from the room like his cloak was on fire. The speed with which he moved, grabbing case after case from another room and placing them all on the coffee table before you was honestly both a bit shocking and very amusing. You had a pile of them soon enough, of slightly different sizes and shapes, but you recognized them all as instrument cases; you tried not to giggle or laugh as he continued this until you had so many to choose from it was a bit silly. And finally he stood still, breathing hard and looking at you expectedly, practically bouncing on his heels with excitement and energy.

“Which would you like, songbird? Your Erik can you teach any instrument, Erik is very good at all of them, Erik is a master of them and Erik would love to be able to teach you, just please tell Erik which you want please please please?” Oh no now he was completely into third person.

You stood up and gently took his face in his hands, careful not to upset his mask since it would help him ground a bit better. “Breathe, my angel, please. I already know which instrument I want to play but if you're going to teach me then I need you to breathe and not panic so, alright?”

He whimpered, a good whimper, maybe too good of one; he shuffled on his feet and closed his eyes at your touch before nodding. You would take it and smiled before kissing him lightly upon the lips. It was hard to resist such a good boy.

“Which...which one does...do you want Er...me to teach you?” he asked, trying his hardest to pull himself together, you could see it; he bit his lip and looked at you with such expectation and love it made your heart flutter. How could one man be so precious and so adorable and so dangerous all at once?

You smiled again and pulled away from him, the whine he gave was not a happy one but he did not hold you back; you leaned down to the table and gently pulled from it one case in particular, opening it to reveal a beautifully crafted violin. His eyes widened at your choice and you did not need to ask to know why; you had heard all the stories, all the legends. Knew that Christine Daae's father was a known violinist, that Erik had once used that knowledge and that violin to try to entrance her in the graveyard after the disasters before. And thus there was a shadow that clung to it, so much so that while you knew he had it, you had never heard him play it; you supposed it held too much of a memory of his failures, of his darker side, that he had been too afraid.

You were not though. Gently, reverently, you removed the instrument from it's casing and took up the bow with one hand. It felt cold in your hands and heavier than you expected but you refused to back down now from your choice. You turned your gaze back to him, still smiling, still hopeful as you spoke, “I wish you to teach me this one, Erik.”

“I...” he seemed to be in some shock but at least he stayed in first person; he opened his mouth only to shut it again, emotions running across his face at incredible speeds.

He cleared his throat, tried to collect himself, and attempted to speak again, “Are you sure? There are better ones I can teach you.”

You both knew that was a lie. Few were as beautiful as a violin when played right; only the piano and organ were more precious and close to his soul as that violin. But memories were a terrible thing and there were things Erik still never did that you suspected were from that terrible, terrible experience.

You were resilent though and stubborn, shaking your head. “I really wish to learn the violin, please Erik? I couldn't imagine learning from anyone else, for who else could possibly be as good as you are at playing it. And I have heard such beautiful things when a violin and piano play together by those whose skill are no doubt less than your own and so surely with your instruction...” You were not playing fair with him. He could be fluttery and excitable and oh so absolutely adorable and lovable with you but you knew there was a pride there and a part of him that did wish so terribly to be able to teach you. And here you were, tantalizing him on both regards, drawing on those parts of him in hopes of getting what you wanted. You could see in his expression the fight between doing so, allowing his pride to win out or his fear.

“But,” he said in a voice no louder than a whisper, a fearful small thing and you were reminded how sensitive your phantom truly could be.

It hurt you and you lowered the instrument, approaching him. “Oh Erik, sweet angel, I truly wish to learn but I don't wish to cause you actual distress, I promise.”

He looked up at you and your eyes met; you smiled gently at him, lovingly, and he bit a ruined lip. You wanted this, you truly did and you wanted it to be the violin but if it really was so hard on him to teach you, if pushing it would only hurt him more, you supposed you would need to let it be. Because it wasn't worth harming the man you loved so much.

Finally a sigh left him and he shook his head. “No, my wonderful songbird, I...I will teach you. Your Erik will do anything my songbird wishes of me.”

A smile formed on his face and you felt your heart swell with how cute it made him. Any expression of happiness was always a good one to you and you nodded, kissing his cheek. “Thank you, mon ange.”

Erik's heart fluttered at the kiss and his smile grew before he cleared his throat again. “Now let's see about your stance.”

You did not expect so much touching yet one he took a deep breath to compose himself his hands moved along your body, adjusting it, moving your arm, your head, the instrument so that it was cradled just right, that your fingers were in the right positions. Your skin heated up as he placed his hands on your waist and commanded, not asked, you to play. “A few notes, just to start.”

You did as instructed and only got in a few before he clicked his tongue and stopped you, readjusting you slightly. “No no no, relax, let the music fill you like when you sing. But instead you make the violin sing for you; caress it, feel it, the bow is an extension of your body, not simply a tool. Now again.”

Again you tried and felt his hands on you. They were warm, even through your dress, and your heart pounded hearing his breathing in your ear. You knew you were far from perfect, this being your first time, but it was better than you expected, because he had made sure of it. But it was strange to you; learning was something you had asked for, wanted, and you knew he could be passionate about teaching, something you always had been able to gently dissauage in him when it came to your singing. But perhaps the closeness, the actual physical contact, made this feel all the different, and you couldn't help but think as well how warm his breath was and strong his grip and how you wished to obey that smooth, alluring, commanding voice. So different than your Erik, your sweet and often self conscious angel, your excitable and loveable man, who slipped into third person at the smallest embarrassment or flustering, who smiled so geniunely and clung and loved with such intensity but not like this. His intensity was normally of desperation and love; this was passion of a different nature and it made heat build up within your heart like a fire you were not sure you wished to have extinguished. It felt both wonderous and a bit strange.

He nodded behind you, making pleased noises that only made it worse inside you. “Good good, much better. Though you still are far too tense.”

He placed a hand over yours holding the bow and closed his eyes. “You know how it feels to become one with the music, I know you do, songbird, just translate that to this.”

You certainly tried. You tried to take a deep breath, to forget he was there, that he was touching you, that he was so close. To focus on the notes, the violin, the music; get a feel for each note, what it was like, what it felt like, which was which and how they sounded together and in sequence. But Erik was a horrible distraction and you could not focus with his hands on you.

“Erik,” you muttered and this seemed to be to no avail; perhaps he was too far into his own mind, the Angel of Music he once was creeping out and overtaking.

“Focus, my songbird.” His voice was so exact, how could you possibly disobey?

“Erik,” you repeated and felt your heart ready to pound out of your chest.

“Give into the music.” His grip tightened both over your hand and at your side and you had to work very hard not to shake and play incorrectly. Even with all this you did not want to do that.

He was not listening and you were not sure you could take much more of this. But you being the smart songbird you were, knew of one thing that your angel could never resist no matter what happened, a thing that was guaranteed to break him of anything and return him to his sweet blubbering self.

It took all of your strength to pull it off, gripped as you were by his strong callused hands, but you managed by some miracle to turn enough to press your lips to his. Erik's eyes widened behind his mask and you knew that his whole face was turning red, could feel his hands lighten their grip, his body start to stiffen as it often did when you kissed him only to relax again. And move to grab your arms and pull you ever closer; Erik was a master of music but he was a slave to your love and desperate as always for every bit of it he could get. To be kissed by you was something he seemed always to want more and normally you delighted in giving it to him, everything you could. All the love you could muster for this sweet broken man. But the fire inside you was still burning and the aching that grew from the way he had spoken, the power of the Angel of Music, and there was plenty of desperation of your own as you leaned into the kiss, into him, only to have to break away for the all too human need of air. You both panted and you could see how blown out his pupils seemed to be as he looked at you.

“Songbird,” he said in a low voice.

“No fair,” you muttered in response and bit your lip, “All too unfair.” How did this man, this phantom in the dark, have such power yet seem so delicate and sensitive so much of the time? You did not know the answer to it but you knew it was unfair, that such a beautiful soul had to feel and be trapped by the past, by insecurities, by others.

“What is unfair?” he asked and there was still an edge, a trace of the angel within the man.

“Everything,” you stated and looked back at him, into those eyes that roiled with such emotion and thought, at your Erik, “But especially that you only seem able to have confidence in yourself and your place in the world when it comes to music.”

That seemed to fluster him but you took the opportunity to kiss him again, no little light thing as the flame inside continued to burn. If not for the violin and bow in your hands you would have grabbed hold of him but you did not dare drop the precious instrument, for him and for yourself, thus you could only lean into him and want more while getting only that. You heard him whine behind the kiss but Erik did not resist it and that grip he had on you loosened only so he could wrap his arms around you. How he delighted in holding you, it burned you more because here was his soft side showing again and you felt a tear hit your face. Not your own, his; the kiss broke again and he was looking at you with that sad expression he would get when things started to overwhelm the man, filling him up and demanding to be let out.

“Songbird,” he repeated with the essence of the whine woven in.

“We will have to continue the lesson later.” When you can explain better, when you can tell him gently how much it made your heart race to feel his touch, your skin burn to feel his breath against your neck, your body yearn because of the power of the Angel's voice and the love for the man. But right now you could not, need was too strong and he nodded all too quickly, sidetracked so easily by you.

He let you go long enough for you to be able to put the violin and bow safely away and close the case but not a second longer. His arms wrapped around you again, pulling you close and picked you up, burying his face in your neck. “Your Erik wishes to be loved by you, please.”

“I wish to be loved by you as well, mon ange,” you whispered to him.

That's all you needed to say. The instruments and music were left behind as he carried you off to his room, to make music with you of a different type.

[darling-zain]

✮↳ If I Want It, I Shall Have It ↰

♡ yandere! princess x gn reader (2.5k words)♡

tw/cw: obsessive love, drugging, use of chloroform, kidnapping, reader hates the monarchy, slightly rushed ending

authors notes: im going on vacation for like a week so I probably won't be online much, here's my little gift to you all <3 (ignore how I literally had to force myself to finish this since I've been working on it for weeks-)

➼ yandere! princess Who was never really interested in romance. She had her castle, she had her garden, and everything she could ever want, so she didn't think romance was necessary for her.

➼ yandere! princess Whose parents were constantly on her case about getting married and "continuing the family legacy". She was the only daughter of the king and queen, so she was the only hope to keep the monarchy alive.

➼ yandere! princess Who would always brush them off by saying that "it's not the right time," or "I haven't found anyone I fancy yet," but she knows that nobody will cut it for her. She's too high-maintenance, too extravagant; none of the princes in her kingdom or the next would satisfy her.

➼ yandere! princess Whose parents had finally had enough of her denial, so they decided to bring the candidates to her. It was just an unchanging cycle of them introducing an over-eager prince, her rolling her eyes, dismissing him, and waiting with a bored expression for the next disappointment.

➼ yandere! princess Who would look out her window longingly, gazing up into the endless night sky with tired, hopeless eyes. "Perhaps there really is no one for me..." she whispers into the cold spring air, lying down on her delicate satin sheets. As her tired mind begins to fade, a single tear slides down her cheek and onto her powder-white pillow, a single mark of imperfection.

➼ yandere! princess Who woke up feeling even more tired than before she had slept. She groaned, rubbing her eyes with her soft, perfectly manicured hands. She slowly gets up and opens her soft pink curtains to reveal a gorgeous view of the entire kingdom; a sight she was absolutely enamoured with as a child but had now grown sick of. She slides open her glass door to step out onto her balcony, letting the wind gently caress her face. As she leans against the railings, the soft scent of freshly baked bread surrounds her. She looks down to see someone stepping out of the bakery and taking some pastries out of the oven. Their face is hidden in shadow, but she can see their mouth turn into a frown as they look up at the castle. Her eyes linger on their frame even after they've left, sighing heavily.

➼ yandere! princess Who had gotten sick and tired of her parent's desperate attempts to get her engaged, and just needed a break from them.

➼ yandere! princess Who called her chauffeur to take her out into the town, and to not tell her parents lest they bring her back.

➼ yandere! princess Who hopped into her grand carriage, looking out the window as they left the castle gates, excitedly anticipating getting to see what a normal life would be like.

"We've arrived, Princess." Her chauffeur calls from the front seat, getting out to open her door for her.

"Thank you very much," She politely nods to him, adjusting the scarf on her head. "Don't wait for me, you can head back to the castle." She dismisses him with a wave of her hand, walking into the market. She looks at everything with awe, all the ordinary stalls looking more magical to her than anything in her castle. As soon as she walks into the town square, she can hear whispers all around her.

Murmurs of "Is that Princess Asmaan?" and "No, it surely couldn't be!" float around her like dandelion seeds, drifting along the winds into every corner of the small village.

She pays them no mind, having become used to the constant whispering that follows her wherever she goes. Soon enough, that familiar scent of freshly baked pastries fills her senses. Not thinking about anything else, she follows the scent to a small building with a large oven right next to it. Her eyes are wide as she watches someone dive into the circular oven and pulls out a few scalding hot flatbreads. A look of awe and shock cross her face at the feat which, in her eyes, seemed incredible, but to you... it was just another day in the bakery.

A man walks past the counter, giving her a glance in her direction before stopping in his tracks. He looks absolutely shocked, but then smiles widely.

"Princess! It's such an honour to have you here- what brings you to our little part of town?" Your father asks in an excited tone, to which she returns the enthusiasm.

"I wanted to see how my people are doing, and I couldn't help but notice the smell of your wonderful goods! May I have two naans, please?" Her excitement is genuine, but it makes you sick.

"Of course! Y/n, bring two naans, the best of the batch!" Your father's booming voice is carried through the small building, making you roll your eyes.

"Coming..." you mumble, putting two flatbreads in a paper bag. As you walk up to the counter, you notice just who you're serving. A disgusted scowl appears on your face as you stride up to the clay table, slamming the bag onto it and glaring at her straight in the eyes. "That'll be 421." You grumble, your voice full of disdain. Your father looks at you with a shocked expression, as if to say "You dare tell the Princess to pay?!" but you remain stoic as you wait for her to reply.

"Oh... yes, of course!" She reaches into her purse and pulls out a few crisp bills, to which your father interjects.

"No, no, there's no need for that! You're the princess, after all, we should be glad just to be in your presence!" He waves his hands in front of his face, smiling nervously. You, on the other hand, snatch the bills from her hand and put them in the drawer under the counter.

"Have a nice day," You say in a monotone voice as a clear indicator for her to leave. She looks a bit taken aback but takes the hint regardless.

"Ah... you too!" She smiles brightly before turning on her heel and walking away. As she walks through the busy streets, her mind is focused on one thing; you. She's never seen someone look at her with such hatred... she's the princess, everybody loves her! Everybody except you. She found your annoyed behaviour to be quite intriguing, almost... alluring. "They're a very interesting person... i need to know more about them." She thinks as she takes a seat on a large rock in the town square, silently eating her food. She looks down at the golden brown bread, her eyes softening slightly. She takes one bite, then another, then another before realizing something. You were the person that made this. It was you who flattened it between your palms, you who sprinkled the sesame seeds on top, and you who dove into the oven to bake it. This seemingly ordinary pastry was now not ordinary at all; it was a piece of you. She smiles to herself as she eats in silence, the naan now tasting that much sweeter to her.

After another hour or so of walking through the crowded streets, she started to get bored. She walks back down the street in which your bakery resided, smirking as she went behind a few buildings and to the side of your bakery, watching with soft eyes as you move about the kitchen. You notice someone behind you, a pair of eyes staring and watching your every move. You take a deep breath, put the dough down, and turn around. You clearly don't expect to see her, causing a look of surprise to grow on your face, before quickly turning to frustration. She giggles at your expression, not saying a word.

"Why are you here?" You hiss out from behind clenched teeth.

She looks around innocently, playing with the end of her scarf. "I wanted to see how a bakery works." Her answer is truthful, but it only angers you more.

"Never seen a bakery before?" You scowl at her, going back to flipping the bread and stretching it out. "Spoiled, entitled little brat..." You mumble under your breath. "Probably never even seen someone making food since everything is done for you..."

She rests her head in her hands, leaning her elbows on the ledge of the open window as she gazes at you longingly. She stays quiet, thinking about what you just said, before speaking up. "Do you hate me?" Her question is simple in nature, but has a complicated meaning behind it. It could be a threat, a genuine question, or a test.

You've always been one to answer with your heart, so the answer comes to you naturally. "yes, I do. You're a selfish, spoiled little rat who's always had everything handed to you on a silver platter. You pretend to care about your people, but while we're all here living in literally dirt-poor conditions, you're sitting in your lavish castle without a care in the world. How could I not hate you?" You're practically seething at this point, but she doesn't care.

"You're right. I'm lucky. I could've been born into the same fate as you, working hard every day just to make ends meet. But I wasn't, and I'm so thankful for it." She sighs, standing up straight. "I'm sorry that wasn't the case for you." Her voice is slightly sad as she walks away, the cold night air enveloping her entire being. She gazes up at the large castle looming in the distance, a small frown appearing on her face. You were right, she had everything handed to her. whatever she wanted, she got. And she was going to make sure that included you as well.

iIt's late at night when she finally returns to the castle, rushing to her room with quiet feet so she doesn't wake up anyone. She opens the double doors to her bedroom and slowly walks inside. Lying down on her bed, her mind wanders to the conversation she just had.

"How could I not hate you...?" She repeats your line in a whisper, the soft moonlight cascading onto her. As she's lost in her thoughts, she stands up and walks to her closet. "How could I not hate you..." That single line plays in her mind on a loop as she grabs some dark pants and a black shirt with a matching scarf. "You've always had everything handed to you..." She mumbles as she pulls on the loose shirt. "Everything... but not you." Her voice is firm as she walks out, a stern glare in her brown eyes.

She silently opens her door and walks over to one of the many cleaning closets, sneaking inside and locking the door. As she waits for her eyes to adjust, she starts to think of a plan. Her eyes focus on a sheet of paper stuck to the back walls with a list of chemicals on them. She scans the paper before finding the one she needs. "Blue jug, Chloroform". She grabs a rag and the blue jug of chemicals as she plods through the room and to the door, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to disturb anyone. She sneaks down many flights of stairs while having to take breaks in between, her frail arms not being used to having to carry that much weight. When she finally reaches the entrance, she takes a deep breath and opens the door a crack, slipping through noiselessly. Walking past the castle gates and into the road behind the now silent town, she starts to wonder why she didn't just have one of her maids do it for her. She's about to return before your words come back to her in a wave. "You've always had everything handed to you... how could I not hate you..." Your words spur her on to continue with her plan, determined to prove you wrong. Perhaps if she did this on her own, you'd finally see her for who she is!

She sighs dreamily as she walks behind your bakery, peering inside the window to see if she could spot anyone. In the dusty glass window of the kitchen, she can see you sleeping at the kitchen counter. When she sees your calm resting face, she almost swoons. You've only ever looked at her with hatred, be it either to her face or up at her from the ground. Her resolve is now set, she had to change your mind.

She soaks the rag in the chemicals, wrapping her scarf around her face so she doesn't breathe it in. Her feet are quiet as she sneaks behind the counter and into the kitchen, the lack of doors making it so much easier for her to creep in. She stands directly next to your sleeping figure, a sad look crossing her face. "I'm sorry I had to do this..." She whispers before her gentle hands slowly place the rag over your nose and mouth.

A minute after she puts the rag on your face, you start to wake up. Your eyes grow wide as you realize what's happening, but with the scarf covering her face you can't see who's attacking you. You start to thrash and scream, but nobody can hear you because of the rag. She holds you down with a gentle touch so that you can't escape, and after a few more minutes, you're completely gone. She grins wildly when you stop struggling, your limp body a sign of her success. She pulls you out of the chair as carefully as she could, but she ended up dropping you because of how delicate her arms are. "You won't mind, will you, qaundom~?" She chuckles softly as she drags your limp body across the floor.

She drags you past the kitchen, the counter, and the side of the building until you're finally back behind the bakery. She takes the bottle of chemicals and ties the handle to her shirt so she doesn't have to carry them, dragging you along the grass and toward the castle. Eventually, she makes it to a door at the back of the castle, opens it, and throws you inside with all of her remaining strength, now completely winded from the trip. After taking a minute to recuperate, she takes your hand and hauls you into an empty cell that's been separated from all the others. She lays you down onto the thin mattress, dusts off her hands and looks at you lovingly.

"You were right, darling. When I want something, I get it." She walks out and closes the cell door softly so it doesn't make that much noise, the rattle of the chain lock echoing through the desolate dungeon.

"And absolutely nothing can stand in my way." Her eyes go cold for a split second as she stares at your lifeless form before turning on her heel and walking to the door.

"Don't hate me for this." With a slam of the iron door, she's gone, leaving only the faint scent of her perfume in her wake.

tags: @skylark144 @izizzl @odobun @alhaizen @decepticon-99 @twilightkitkat @red-viewe @lasagna-goob @cyphertryagain @hailchocolate @underneathablanketwithwolfkeum @angelofdarkness2 @ren-054 @emptybrain01 @phoenix-eclipses @amourzinna