#emerald green living room decor

[life-spire]

[virtua-decor]

[yandere-writer-momo]

🧡🤍🩷 Lesbian Visibility Week Special 🧡🤍🩷

Yandere Short Stories:

A Dragon’s Treasure

Yandere Lesbian Dragon x Shy Princess Reader

The Emerald Calamity. The Green Inferno. The Jade Death. All of these titles belonged to a feared, emerald dragon by the name of Cahira. She was one of the few dragons that lived in the land and yet she didn’t often pillage villages to earn those titles. No. She only decimated kingdoms for their jewels… for her princess.

Cahira’s true interest lied in the happiness of princess (your name), a woman so beautiful that anyone could fall in love with a single glance? Cahira was instantly enthralled with the idea of the princess. How could a dragon resist the tales of such beauty? Cahira simply had to have her… dragons loved treasure after all.

Yet there was a rumor that really caught Cahira’s attention. Supposedly, the princess was in a scandalous relationship with her own maid… yet it ended up with the maid betraying the princess for money. This rumor made Cahira’s heart flutter since she was a sapphic too.

Cahira’s curiosity eventually got the best of her and she flew to (your name)’s kingdom to be sure. And when her golden eyes landed on the meek princess, Cahira was instantly captivated. Cahira had to have the princess! There was no ifs, ands, or buts about Cahira’s decision either. It was her way or death.

It was a year year ago today when Cahira had decided to steal the princess away. Before (your name) could be married off to some foreign royalty. Men couldn’t possibly take care of such a dazzling jewel. They would ruin (your name) because they wouldn’t be able to protect her properly! The princess didn’t deserve to be some concubine when she was queen material! (Your name) was a permanent prize to be attained, so Cahira was far better for her… at least that’s what the dragon told herself.

Cahira had went to the extremes to try to earn her beloved’s favor. Expensive jewels, extravagant meals, and the finest silks were always within her grasp. The finest for the finest, Cahira always insisted. Yet Cahira noticed how the princess would cower in her room. A fact that deeply upset the dragon.

So Cahira went to a witch for a magic necklace that would allow her to transform into a more humanoid form in exchange for a ton of gold. Maybe her beloved would like her more if she was able to touch her better?

And Cahira adored the blush on her princess’s face when she transformed for the first time. It seemed a voluptuous body made (your name) avert her gaze and turn into a tomato… a cute tomato of course! And Cahira couldn’t get enough of teasing her precious princess!

(Your name) was now an irreplaceable treasure that would be forever cherished by her enamored captor! A princess locked up in an inescapable tower in a giant forest far from civilization. A beautifully decorated cage with her gentle dragon! A cushy life perfect for a pampered princess.

A hero would be vacuous to even create a rescue attempt… no matter how much the princess desired freedom, she would never get away. For Cahira had her best interest in mind… and a dragon never loses sight of their treasure.

.

.

.

(Your name) whimpered when Cahira dragged a wet rag down her back while she sat in the large claw tub. Cahira’s voluptuous human form leaned against the edge of the tub, the dragon hummed a low melody to try to ease her beloved’s shyness.

Sharp talons delicately traced shapes on (your name)’s back as Cahira rinsed the suds off the princess’s delicate skin with the green rag. Cahira leaned forward to press a few kisses against the blushing flesh.

“You’re so lovely…” Cahira whispered in (your name)‘s ear, her hot breath made the smaller woman recoil in embarrassment. “You don’t need to hide yourself from me…”

(Your name) still held her arms over her chest, a shiver ran down her spine when Cahira’s golden eyes flicked over her bare body. Despite the two years they’ve been ‘together,’ the princess still wasn’t used to such brazen behavior. (Your name) was simply lucky the bubbles covered up a bit more of her dignity from this lustful beast.

“I’m still a lady…” (your name) squealed when Cahira playfully nipped her neck, a small red marking now on her nape. “Hey!”

“You’re such a prude.” Cahira stood up from the ledge of the tub. The gorgeous woman stretched her olive arms over her horned head and yawned to reveal her sharp fangs. “I’ll let you wash yourself up then. I simply just enjoy indulging my precious princess.”

Cahira then left the bathroom, her hips swayed behind her in a confident manner. Her emerald tail flicked the door shut behind her, finally leaving (your name) to her own devices.

The princess softly sighed and turned her gaze to the full body mirror across from the tub. There was no doubt Cahira pampered her. She was healthy and dressed in the finest silks (ones that were confiscated from traveling merchants).

Cahira often sung (your name)‘s praises during every interaction. The dragon often made every moment feel far too intimate to simply be a relationship between a captor and their victim… a fact which muddled the princess’s thoughts.

Cahira placed hot kisses on (your name)’s body whenever she could and she would loudly proclaim how she adored (your name) with every fiber in her being. She even stated that she’d burn down (your name)’s kingdom to keep the princess at her side forever. A statement the princess truly believed.

(Your name) just didn’t understand what Cahira saw in her… was she really as beautiful as she said?

(Your name) traced a thumb over her lips in thought. A blush enveloped her cheeks when she noticed all the love marks on her skin from Cahira. How naughty…

.

.

.

Cahira hummed while she waited for (your name) to come to bed. Her tail flicked back and forth like a cat, her golden gaze studied the bathroom door in thought. She wondered if her beloved would put on the emerald night slip she had gifted her? Cahira was really excited by the goods she acquired from the latest merchant. It is a shame she didn’t keep him alive, he seemed to have fantastic taste in clothing… oh well! Men are useless anyways.

Cahira perked up when (your name) shyly peaked her head from the doorway. Did her princess wish to remain hidden? How cute!

“C-Cahira, this dress is too… revealing.” (Your name) blushed when Cahira sprung to her feet. The dragon now face to face with the bashful princess.

“Let me see.” Cahira licked her lips when (your name)’s eyes became a bit teary. So cute! Cahira could just eat her…

Cahira pulled (your name)’s hand to try to encourage her to leave the bathroom’s threshold and what a sight to behold… her beloved looked so darling in emerald hues! The same shades of her scales… it was divine.

“You look so beautiful in emerald green.” Cahira pulled (your name) into a tight embrace, which made the princess squeal. “I need to view everything now.”

(Your name) was quickly guided to the bed and thrown onto the plush covers. The princess made an attempt to try to cover her cleavage with her arms, but Cahira easily smacked them away.

“I’m just looking. Don’t be so shy, it tempts me more.” Cahira chuckled at how terrified (your name)’s expression was. “You look so frightened… like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Cahira grasped (your name)’s hands in hers so she could press chaste kisses to her wrists. “I’ve taken on this form for you and I’ve done so much… I just want to admire you.”

(Your name) sniffled when Cahira bent down to press her lips against her teary cheeks. “I want to kiss you… to love you… yet you’re still so frightened of me.”

Cahira sighed before she pulled away to sit on the end of the bed. “I know it will take time, but you’re much safer here. You don’t have to marry some old, demented man or some promiscuous prince. You’d be my one and only.”

Cahira ran a hand through her curly, emerald hair with a sigh. Though her face wasn’t visible, there was no doubt that she had a hurt expression on her beautiful face. “I really like you… no. I love you.”

(Your name) sat up and frowned. Cahira wasn’t necessarily wrong about her statement. Despite being a princess, she had no interest in princes or kings of foreign lands. To be frank, she had planned to runaway with her maid before she found out her maid had deceived her…

Being vulnerable now made (your name) afraid… yet Cahira had never given her a reason to doubt her devotion. Even in grotesque displays, Cahira eliminated every knight and hero that tried to save her just to show (your name), that Cahira would never let anyone take her away… it made (your name)’s heart flutter and made her head spin in confusion.

The princess had never felt wanted like this before. She’s never been pampered and kissed on… Cahira’s affection was all consuming like the poisonous breath she breathed.

Cahira made loving (your name) seem as easy as it was to breathe. Perhaps she should cut Cahira some slack?

Cahira was shocked when she felt soft arms wrap around her body. Cahira’s golden eyes widened in shock when (your name) buried her face into the crock of Cahira’s neck. Her breath hitched at the heart warming sight.

“(Your name)? What are you-“ Cahira blushed when (your name) shyly pressed a kiss on her left cheek. The princess shyly glanced away.

“I… I like you too-“ (your name) was tackled into a hug as Cahira pressed her lips over and over the entirety of (your name)’s face.

“Love you. Love you. Love you.” Cahira replied between each affectionate peck. “We could get married? I could kidnap some human officiant. Or maybe an elven one if you don’t want human! Then I’ll eat him-“

(Your name) pushed her palms up and squished Cahira’s cheeks together in a way that made Cahira kind of look like a fish. A pout now on (your name)’s face.

“You really need to stop eating people.”

“I do it to protect my precious treasure.” Cahira gave her a grin. “I’d eliminate the entire human race for you if you asked that of me. Whatever you desire, I will obtain it for you, my precious princess.”

[surielstea]

Move Me, Baby

Eris Week, Day Seven: Free day

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader (arranged marriage)

Summary: Reader and Eris slowly fall in love with both the music and each others movements, on the dance floor and off.

Warnings: Smut | minors dni | Beron being Beron | p in v | 18+ | creampie | begging | praise | suggestive | teasing/taunting

A. Note: Last Eris Week day, and it would not be a Surielstea Eris fic without a ballroom scene, so enjoy… ;)

3.9k words.

Eris has never felt this way before. This eagerness and anticipation. But this female, his betrothed, she was changing things, stirring up feelings that he had long since thought dead. Hope, being one of them.

He stood outside my door anxiously, silently pacing back and forth as he waited for the clock to strike seven, when he was supposed to be here. He hadn't meant to come so early, but his impatience got the better of him and suddenly he was dressed and ready and meandering towards my chambers.

I was unaware of the males presence just outside my room, too busy admiring myself in the mirror. The dress Eris had gifted me this morning was exquisite. Made of the smoothest silk, the deep green shimmering fabric catching the light as it moved like water— and when I put it on I looked as beautiful as an emerald.

The cut of the dress was beyond flattering, with a low neckline and form fitting bodice that hugged me in all the right places. The skirt of the dress was long and flowing into a train that blended from emerald to a glimmering gold.

I decorated myself in golden jewelry, adorning a few rings that paired well with my engagement ring.

I looked to the clock on the wall to see it a minute past seven, when a knock sounded at the door.

I smiled slightly and strides over to the door, I took a moment— making sure my hair was still neat and my painted lips weren't smudged for the umpteenth time. Then I swung open the door and was greeted with the Heir of Autumn.

Eris froze as soon as he saw me, his eyes drinking in every inch of me. His mind went quiet and his throat dried, he had always thought I was gorgeous but tonight I was downright devastating.

I noticed how he stared particularly long at my chest, his eyes roaming over my ample cleavage on display.

Finally, he looked to my eyes and sucked in a sharp breath, understanding that he had been caught.

"You're late, Vanserra," I say and he gives me one of his signature smirks that had my knees buckling. "What's your poor excuse?"

"I know, I know," He rolled his eyes at my chiding tone. "By all of one minute." He adds and I smile up at him. He reaches forward and brushes a strand of my hair behind my ear. "You look absolutely sinful," He said as I linked my arm with his.

I smile broadly. "I know," I sent him a wink and his smirk only widened.

We walked in silence towards the ballroom, but every now and then Eris would steal glances down at me and how perfectly the dress he chose for me hugged my dips and curves. He had never seen something so worthy of worship.

He wanted to be closer, linking arms wasn't enough, he needed more than friendly contact— but he had promised a night of dancing and sparkling wine, not a night in his bed, no matter how much he fantasized about the latter.

"Act like you're in love with me," I say through a tight lipped smile as two royal guards open the large wooden doors leading into the ballroom.

He momentarily wagers how brutal my glare would be if he rolled his eyes, but decided it best to place a hand on the small of my back, bare due to the low cut of my dress.

We strode into the ballroom as one, his protective grip on me claiming me off limits to any male who thought they were good enough for me. I ease into a graceful saunter, nodding my head at bowing guests and curtsying court members. My fae ears perked up at the sound of soft music playing from the live orchestra in the center of the ballroom, filling the large hall with notes and tunes of beauty. I would've lost myself in the sound of it if Eris hadn't guided me over to the dais, where his father and mother sat in their thrones— or rather throne, the Lady of Autumn was sat in a simple, cushioned chair instead.

Eris's mask of cold calculation slipped in place as his arm left my waist in favor of bowing to his parents formally. I do the same, curtsying with a feminine grace that took years of practice.

"Father," Eris rose from his position and I did so I few moments afterwards. "Mother," He nodded his head.

The High Lord gazed at me with a sickeningly honeyed expression, as he always did, and Eris's hand slipped back into mine protectively. The movement doesn't go past either of their notices, but while Beron narrowed his eyes, his wife smiled softly.

"Our newly weds," The Highlord purrs, his eyes taking me in with feline enthusiasm. "You look absolutely delectable tonight, my dear," He hums and I nod with a soft smile.

"Thank you, my lord," I will myself to sound polite and pray it doesn't come off as sarcasm. Eris's hand squeezes mine, relaxing me slightly.

"You are quite proper compared to the last lovers my son has taken into his bed," The high lord says and Eris stiffens.

"Father, I would appreciate it if we didn't discuss past partners while in the presence of my wife." Eris said with a terse voice.

'My wife.' He had said, the words still echoing off the walls of my mind as Beron replied, "Oh c'mon, boy. I'm only teasing, surely she isn't too bothered by it. Right my girl?" His cold gaze slides back to me and my back straightens under the weight of his gaze. I try not to cringe at the nickname and the possessiveness that came with it, but Eris made his distaste clear.

"I don't mind in the slightest, My Lord," I say with a soft voice, leaning into Eris's side, telling him it was all a ruse and I was fine, that even if I was upset I didn't need his protection. But I could still feel the heat rolling off of him, he was ready to pounce and shred into him like one of his smokehounds might.

"See? Shes a perfect little obedient wife, isn't she?" Beron arched a brow, directing all his attention at his son. I wanted to reassure Eris, to tell him his father was only saying all this because he knew that when he spoke of me it got under his skin the most, but that comment, it made my stomach knot and bile threaten at the back of my throat.

Beron smirks, satisfied at the level of discomfort he had breached in both of you. "She is perfect, yes. I would have no complaints." Eris said with a cool grace that I marveled at.

Berons smile widened with amusement, to my dismay. "You've got quite the grip on my son, girl," He hums. "Wrapped around his finger." Beron leans lazily back into his throne. Neither of us supply a retort, which seemed to invoke enough boredom for him to excuse us. "Well, off you go then. The guests have come to see that happy couple dance."

We bow in a synchronized motion once more before Eris whisks me away towards the dancing aristocrats, planting his hands on my hips and holding my back to his chest as he guided me through the grand hall, as far as he could get from his father.

"You didn't have to answer that, you know," He mutters beside my ear, his lowered voice sending a shiver down my exposed spine.

"Answer what?"

"What my father said. About me being with other lovers, you didn't have to agree with him." He clarifies and I frown, my brows bunching.

"I simply didn't see the point in starting an argument with the High Lord at a ball thrown in our honor," I supply, whirling around to face him, he was much closer than I was anticipating and I had to crane my neck to look up into his gold flecked amber eyes.

"I only meant that you didn't have to go along with his teasing, I can't imagine it's very amusing to think about your husband's past partners." Eris expressed.

"Why?" I tilt my head. "I don't have an issue with you being with women prior to me, we live long lives, I don't have any right to be upset about what's happened in the past." I say while mindlessly straightening his dark green suit jacket. He let out a strained sigh and I glanced up at him, a smirk pulling at my lips.

"Don't tell me you're jealous, Vanserra," I taunt and he scoffs, looking anywhere but my eyes.

"Please. I am not, that's laughable." He shakes his head.

"Really? So my past relationships don't affect you in the slightest?" I suggest with an arched brow.

He looks down at me, it was humiliating the way he towered above me. "No, I suppose you're right that it is jealousy. My perfect little obedient wife having a history of other males certainly does not please me." He retorted and I sneered at the recall of his father's description of me.

"You're almost too easy to rile up these days, My Lord," I grin devilishly up at him.

"Oh, you're pushing it Princess," his hands return to my hips. "If it's anything, it's the dress you're wearing that is riling me up." He stated amusedly and I smirk, not falling into the flustered haze he wanted me to.

"It's only a dress," I reply innocently. "One that may end up on the floor of our bedroom tonight if you play your cards right."

"Keep talking like that and I doubt this dress will even make it to the bedroom." He remarks and I curse myself for blushing, losing the little game we had been playing as a rush of heat washes down me.

"Is that a threat, or a promise?"

"Could be both, but I'd mark it as a warning."

"Careful now or we might find ourselves skipping this ball entirely." I grin at him mischievously.

"Is that such a bad thing? I'd much rather have you to myself than watch all these people gawk at you," He smugly says.

"We must dance at least once, first." I say with a knowing certainty, pulling him closer to the dance floor, towards the rising music that I could feel thrumming through my bones.

He lets out a low grumble but obliged anyways, and took my hand in his, his other on my waist. "Alright, one dance and then I will carry you back to our rooms if I have to." He said with a defeated sigh, his eyes roving over me as I pulled him onto the tiled floor, in the center, closest to the music.

"So impatient," I tease while placing a hand on the nape of his neck.

The music flows into a new song, and like clockwork Eris and I easily slip into a graceful waltz. It came like second nature, spinning and twirling beneath the warm lighting, the gold of my dress fanning out, the other dancers giving us a wide berth at the flowing fabric.

I was far too aware of the eyes that were on us, some stealing glances between turns, others outright staring. But my husband didn't seem affected, he was too caught up in my movements to comprehend the idea of anyone else. I flash him a wide smile as he twirls me, then pulls me into his chest with enough force to invoke my crashing into him.

The music ceases and we're met with our heavy breathing, his hands tightly on my hips. "We have danced," He stated with a puff of breath. "And now I am free to be as much of a selfish ass as I wish," He hummed, slipping his hand into mine and pulling me off the dance floor before the next song could start.

I let out a soft laugh as he steers me through the throng of court ladies attempting to get our attention that he ignored, and continued to lead me towards the door. "Calm down, your highness." I purr, squeezing his hand slightly. The use of the nickname made him pause, and he turned back to look at me. "We can't just ditch halfway through a ball that was set in motion for us," I explain.

"There's nothing left for us to do here, aside from me standing here, watching as the others stare at how ravishing you look tonight." He intoned and I flashed him a lovely, innocent smile.

"And that's such a bad thing?" I bat my lashes up at him and he smirks, taking a step towards me and closing the distance between us.

He leans in closer, his voice a rolling purr as he says, "You have no idea how incredibly torturous it is to watch every one here foam at the mouth over the sights of you in that dress"

"You're being dramatic." I scoff, looking at the crowd surrounding us who quickly averted their gazes. "The looks everyone was casting our way had little to do with me." I shrug and look back to the Heir.

"My fawn, do not go shy on me now. You look like an angel tonight." He shakes his head and turns away from me again, his hand still interlaced with mine as he pulls me through the large doors which the guards closed behind us, shutting the peering eyes of the crowd out.

"An angel, hm? Careful Vanserra you're starting to sound like you have some real feelings for me." I say, bumping into him playfully.

"My 'Real Feelings' for you would be on display the moment we walked into that ballroom if I wasn't worried about ruffling our people." He makes clear and I grin. Our people. I might have been from the winter court but he was fully prepared to share his lordship with me, as his high lady.

"Oh?" I glance up at him. "And what exactly do these 'Real Feelings' consist of?" I say while continuing the journey back to our chambers.

"Would you like a demonstration?" He suggests as we reach the doors of our suite.

"I've always been a visual learner." I retort, the flirtatious hum in my voice enough to send any male wild.

"You know exactly which buttons to push to drive me mad, don't you?" He asks while throwing open the door and following in after me.

"I don't hear you complaining." I shrug, my snarky attitude sending him into a spiral. He tightened his hold on my hand and pulled me back, pressing me into the door and pushing it shut with my weight.

"No, I'm certainly not complaining." His hand comes to my waist, and the click of the lock makes my ears perk up. "Quite the opposite actually," He confesses, leaning forward and pressing a claiming kiss just below my jawline, licking, sucking, and biting at my neck. I let out a soft sigh at the feeling of his lips on my skin.

"Eris," I murmur through a hushed moan.

"Yes, love?" He voices, the sound vibrating against my neck.

"You're moving too slow, I think you've been patient enough with me." I grumble, my hand slinking into his deep red hair and tugging on it slightly as he tortures a particularity sensitive spot just below my pulse point.

"You're going to be the end of me." He grumbles, his restraint slowly slipping from his grasp. "Do you have any idea what I want to do to you?"

"Enlighten me." I smirk with lustful eyes, a challenge.

"The list of things would take us days to get through, my dear." He admits and my core heats at the idea, a wicked grin on my lips.

"Good thing we've got nothing but time." I suggest.

"You're not making it easy for me to maintain my control." He grouses against my skin.

"Who says I want that?"

"You're toeing a dangerous line, pretty girl." He narrows his eyes on me, a cold smirk playing at his lips.

"There's no line, it's just a statement." I retort, my hand tugging at his hair while the other undoes the buttons of his shirt. "Right now there is nothing I want more than for you to lose control." I admit and his teeth brush over my neck as he grins wildly.

"Have it your way love." He grabs my hips and pulls me over to the bed, practically carrying me and settling me down onto the bed.

"Please." I press my thighs together, my hands fumbling to get his shirt off.

"What do you need?" He hummed, coming to hover over me, his muscled arm mmm flexing with the movement.

"You, I need you." I murmur as he dips down, his lips sealing over that same sensitive place on my neck, biting and kissing around it, forming a group of purple marks around the area.

"Oh yeah?" He purrs, his knee coming down to press in between my legs. I gasp, gripping the sheets beneath me as he allowed me to grind down on it, friction sparking up my spine.

"Yes, oh gods, yes I need you." I sigh, my head tilting back, giving him further access to my throat.

"And what do you need me to do to you, my pretty wife?" He asks and my mind reels with possibilities. A list, he said he had. I wanted every item on that list crossed off by the end of tonight.

"Eris I can't take it anymore, please," I writhe beneath him, biting into my lower lip to stop myself from pleading with him any further.

"Keep begging and I'll consider it." He drawls, his voice low and flooded with lust.

My breath hitched as I let out a soft, "Please." My head is heavy with need and my core thrummed. "Please take me right here, right now. Do whatever you want to me Eris just, please, I need you inside of me." I whimper, pathetic, that's what I was, and I'll be full of shame in the morning when I remember how needy I am, but right now the only thing I cared about was his touch.

A resounding tear sounded through the room and I gasped, looking down to see my dress falling from my frame. "I warned you what would happen to this dress if you kept your teasing up." He growled and I grinned, showing off all my teeth.

"I've never been too mindful of warnings." I utter, hands moving to the buckle of his pants as he kisses across my collar bone.

"I'm painfully aware." He grits through his teeth, holding back his groan as I palmed him through his pants.

He pulled back to look down at me, taking in every dip and curve of my body, his hands caressing over my waist and it felt like flames licking up my side. "Gods you're beautiful." He murmured, mostly to himself.

I revel in his touch, left only in my underwear before him. He helps me with the task of his pants, thrashing them off and discarding them onto the floor to join my ruined dress.

His hard length met my clothed cunt and I gasped, my hands forming into fists at the sudden stimulation.

"Eris, please," I whine, my brows furrowing with need. He smirks and in one fluid movement he's moving my panties down my thighs, revealing how wet I was, all for him. He grunts at the sight, his eyes losing any emotion except desire, lust.

His eyes trace the outline of my body as he leans down, his lips pressing to mine and I moan as his cock pressed into my aching folds. He takes the opportunity of my open mouth to slip his tongue in, exploring with it eagerly, flicking and curling it so skillfully that it made me wonder what it could do in other places.

"You sure about this, baby?" He panted into my mouth, his words ghosting across my raw lips.

I nod, fervent to please him, to feel him.

"Words beautiful, use your words," He whispered over my lips.

"Yes, Eris, please— I'm sure," I whimper and he grins, my words all he needed to hear before aligning his head with my entrance and pushing in.

I gasp at the stretch, my hips lifting and back arching in adjustment as he continues filling me, inch after inch, seeking new unfound levels of pleasure. I move my hands to his back, muscles shifting as he leans down.

His hips meet mine, fully sheathed inside of me. I look down at where we connect, my pulse picked up as he begins to move, and I watch, stare as he pulls out only to thrust back in, stretching me wide.

He continues his brutally slow pace, groaning and panting filling the room as I grow more and more used to the pain, slowly morphing into pleasure.

“Yes, Eris, yes,” I chant, shoving my head back into the pillows, eyes rolling back as he molds my elastic walls to his cock.

“You’re doing so well, such a good girl,” He praised, leaning over me and pressing a kiss to my cheek, his touch all too innocent as one of his hands comes up to grope my breast. His touch was smoldering and burning, but I delighted in it, for it was purely him and no one else could replicate the marks he left on my skin.

“Eris,” I whimper, his name the only thing my mouth could form, everything else was an incoherent moan. “Eris,” I repeat and I realize I was praying to a god willing to answer my every request.

“I know, I know,” He said over my skin, his warm voice like embers still crackling. “You going to come, my love?” He taunts, but I was too caught up in reaching my high to pick up on his teasing tone.

I nod frantically, scratching my nails down his back.

“Go ahead, come for me.” He implored and I let out a cry of pleasure as his thumb presses to my clit, the bundle of nerves sending shockwaves up my spine.

A wave of white hot ecstasy washed down my spine, staining my cheeks, warming me down to my very bone.

His climax was quick to follow, my clamping down on him beckoned him to barrel towards his peak, his release seeping into my most untouched places.

He co tinted to guide me through my high, slowly coming down. He leaned forward and placed a supple kiss to my sweat slick forehead. “You did so good, my dear,” He murmured into my skin as he slowly pulled out, grunting softly as I milked him for all he was worth.

“Come now, let’s get you cleaned up,” He gathered me into his arms and I smiled softly at the warmth and familiarity of his embrace. And I knew then, as I found comfort as he cradled me, that it was no longer just sex, but rather what I had been craving for years and hadn’t been able to name it. This intangible thing that I had always yearned for without realizing it, love, I loved him. I knew there was no return from this point on.

Eris Week Tag List: @adharanotfound @mp-littlebit @its-me-meg @olive-main @bookwormysblog @inurus @iwishiwasaprincess @randomgurl2326 @tigerlily00 @i-know-i-can @bubybubsters @booklover0318 @lalaluch @hallabongy @paintedbyshadows @ninthcircleofprythian @chasing-autumns-chill @deepestmentalitypersona @myromanempiree @rosewood-cafe @witchmoon10 @andreperez11

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Christmas Morning (2)

Wanda X Natasha X Reader

Summary: Once the three of you eventually manage to get out of bed, it's time to open the presents, a small, velvety box with your name written on it waiting to be opened. 

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings/Tags: Pure Fluff, No smut. 

A/N: This is the second part to 'Christmas Morning'

Soft laughter filled the beautifully decorated living room as you all sat on the sofa together, your head resting against Natasha's shoulder as you watched Wanda go first to open all of her presents, a shy smile playing on her lips at the amount of them, your fingers playing with Natasha's absentmindedly.

"You shouldn't have gotten me so much..." She trails off, biting her lip as her gaze flickers over the abundance of wrapped up gifts, the Christmas themed wrapping being admired by the witch as she picks up her first present, her enticing green turning towards you both, smile still shy.

"Why? You deserve everything and more Malyshka," Natasha murmurs softly towards Wanda, creating a warmth to bubble in the witch's chest as she sits on the seat closer to the tree, her fingers itching to reveal the gift, a childish excitement brewing in her.

Once she met your loving gazes once more, she smiled at you a little more confidently now, her fingers delicately tearing away the strips of paper to discover what her gift was, a giggle leaving her lips at the gag gift that was in the box, the corner of your lips tugging up at the angelic noise.

"Really?" She chuckled out, her hands carefully pulling out the three stuffed toys that were in the box, her head shaking at most likely your antics as she revealed the three figures to you, Natasha's grin widening.

The redhead's gaze turned to your humoured one at the sight of the three of you in merchandise form, your avenger's title making it easy for you to find a funny gift like that to start the day off, your eyes drifting away from the alluring emerald to look over the soft figures once again, another laugh leaving you.

"They were just so cute, I couldn't resist," you reason, the witch looking at them with a soft, tender look, placing them down carefully on the sofa next to her and propping them up, a gentle expression taking over your face as you could tell she secretly loved them, the smile on her lips etched onto her face.

Wanda continued to unwrap her presents that yourself and the spy had bought from her, her smile growing wider and wider at each thoughtful gift, her red tendrils surrounding the wrapping paper that had made its way to the floor, gently floating them over to the rubbish bag you had gone to retrieve as you asked for her to wait before opening the last present from you and the spy.

Your gaze met Natasha's as you cuddled back into her side, her strong arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer, sensing your nerves as you waited for the witch to stop trying to figure out what her last gift was, the Russian's fingers tracing random patterns against your curves as watched the witch with you.

"Relax Krasotka, she'll love it," the Russian whispers at your ear, her lips pressing a gentle kiss to your temple to ease your nerves, her fingers interlocking with yours, knowing how you loved to trace over the smooth skin of her digits and caress her knuckles.

Both of you observed as Wanda eagerly pulled away the wrapping paper, a child-like innocence taking over her as she smiles widely in excitement, her green that were overflowing with curiosity softening, her gaze flickering to you after realising what the present was.

"I love it," Wanda whispers, honesty lacing her tone as her gaze is drawn back to the photo album of the three of you, various pictures making her heart melt as she flicks through the pages. One of her favourites is of one Natasha took of the three of you sprawled out on the same sofa somehow, your body squished in between theirs as the film played on in the background, your face clearly indicating how tired you were as you slept in the awkward position, the witch looking at you with nothing but love in her eyes. Another one of her favourites was a recent photo that you had taken of the witch and spy in the kitchen, Natasha's hands holding onto Wanda's hips as they swayed to the soft Christmas music that played, unaware of you snapping the intimate photo of them both gazing longingly at each other.

After carefully placing down the present, she swiftly made her way to the two of you to steal a chaste kiss, expressing her gratitude and appreciation for all the gifts you had gotten her, the three of you unable to stop smiling as Wanda took Natasha's place, the redhead going up to open her presents now.

You let Wanda decide to sit in between your legs, your arms snaking around her middle as you propped your head up on her shoulder, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before letting your gaze wander to Natasha who found her section of presents, her heart unable to deal with the amount of joy bubbling inside her. She never knew she could feel so loved as you both gazed at her softly, her smile growing a little wider at the sheer happiness swirling within her and enveloping her heart.

"Wait, open the card last," you intervene when she picks the small envelope up first, her brow raising at you curiously before she obliges in your request, placing down the white envelope on the side out of harms way before moving onto another gift, her mind focussing on the way you share a look with Wanda, assuming there was something special in the card.

Once Natasha had gotten through her other gifts, her favourite so far being the personalised knife set, she let her fingers slide over the soft material of the envelope, her gaze moving back to you two and the smile playing on your lips.

"Should I be scared?" The Russian teases, a smirk playing on her lips as you merely chuckle, shaking your head playfully at her while Wanda leans further into your embrace, her nose scrunching up in that adorable way.

"Just open it Dorogaya," Wanda huffs out in a laugh, the spy then opening the envelope to reveal an old polaroid.

"Is that..." Natasha trails off, various emotions swirling in her eyes as tears build there, her eyes raking over the vintage photo of a beautiful woman holding a baby with a wide smile on its face, her head snapping up to the two of you who have tender smiles on your face.

"Yes," Wanda whispers, not wanting to disrupt the moment as Natasha looks at the polaroid of her and her unknown mother, her heart squeezing in her chest at the amount of effort the two of you must have put in to find a photo of the woman Natasha longed to meet and know about. The redhead flips the image over to see words scribbled in Russian, her fingers trembling as she translates them in her mind.

Moya malenkaya devochka (My little girl), Natalia Alianova Romanova.

Ever so gently, Natasha places down the picture and rushes over to you two to pull you in for an embrace, Wanda moving carefully so that all three of you could hold one another, the spy sniffing a little at the overwhelming feelings flooding through her, your lips meeting her temple as you pull her into your lap, Wanda pressing another to her cheek.

"Merry Christmas Nat," you whisper to her, her lips instantly meeting yours intimately, her mouth parting to say sometime to you as she pulls back but refraining from doing so, not wanting to spoil what was to come.

"I love you both so much," she murmurs whilst kissing Wanda, the witch smiling knowingly at the passionate undertone to her words, the witch stealing the spy from your lap and letting her sit next to her, motioning for you to go up and grab your own presents.

Whilst Wanda was subtly comforting the spy, her lips at the shell of her ear whispering soft words, you moved to the tree, pulling out the array of boxes the two of them had gotten you. Like a child, you simply went for the biggest box first, eager to know what the present was as your fingers tugged and pulled hastily the wrapping paper off, Natasha chuckling under her breath as your tongue peeked out of your mouth, your face drawn up into concentration as didn't know if it was fragile or not, scared to break the gift.

A genuine laughter surrounded the room as you found out that it was indeed another gag gift, the smile playing on your lips eliciting one from the other two women as you pulled out the Christmas jumper with the two of them on it, your hands sliding over the soft fabric to reach the shoulders to hold it up properly, allowing yourself to get a proper view of it.

"This is perfect," you chuckle out, eyes drifting across the different patterns that adorned the jumper as well as the two Avengers on the front of it, another laugh escaping you when you read the writing engraved onto it. "Have a Wanda-ful Christmas," your tone humorous as you peeked from behind the jumper to see Wanda rolling her eyes at your amusement, Natasha laughing with you as she kissed the brunette's temple, smirking a little at the gift she found.

After you had admired the sweatshirt for long enough, you moved onto your next present, and the next and the next until you had unwrapped everything you had, a pile of thoughtful gifts surrounding you as you smiled at the two women, starting to move towards them for another hug when Natasha spoke, stopping you in your tracks.

"You've missed a present Krasotka," the spy says, an indecipherable tone lacing her words as you tilt your head in curiosity, looking back towards the tree and crouching a little, noticing a small, elegantly wrapped box hidden near the back of the tree. You chuckled at their teasing comments as you bent down to reach the gift, your smile tugging up at the corner of your lips at the amount of effort they put into getting you all of these presents, your heart melting in your chest at their enamoured gazes.

"You didn't need to get me this much, you both spoil me," you say with a gentle tone, eyes noticing how Natasha takes a hold on Wanda's hand delicately once again, their eyes meeting for a knowing look before returning to your figure stood by the tree, the two of them taking in the sight, wishing it engrave it in their memories.

"We'll always spoil you Detka," Wanda murmurs, watching as your fingers take a slower approach to unwrapping this present, curiosity and interest swirling in your eyes as you peel back the paper, revealing a small, velvety box, your eyes meeting theirs, a swarm of butterflies taking over your entire body, heart beating wildly in your chest as you admired the delicate box.

Almost timidly, you carefully opened the lid of the box, a gasp leaving you at the breath-taking sight of the ring. A diamond was placed in the middle of it, gold tendrils wrapping angelically around the jewel, the radiant item causing the pounding of your heart to reach your ears as you took in what this meant, your gaze flicking to the engraving of 'Krasotka' and 'Detka' inscribed on the inner part of the ring before reaching the writing written on the roof of the box.

There were two lines of writing, your eyes noting how the first one was in Russian and the second Sokovian, your fingers trembling as you held the box, eyes meeting the two sets of alluring green trained on you, observing your reaction carefully as you tried to guess what the words meant, too scared to jump to conclusions.

"What..." Your word was barely above a whisper, scared to speak too loud and disrupt the tranquil atmosphere, Wanda and Natasha both smiling at you softly.

"The vyidesh saa nas zamuzh?" Natasha says whilst Wanda says the same thing in Sokovian, tears building in your eyes from happiness as your smile widens, warmth and affection filling your chest as you can't stop your gaze from flickering between the ring and the two of them.

"Will you marry us?" Wanda translates, confirming your assumptions, your smile breaking into a wide grin before you rush to crash into their arms, love enveloping the three of you entirely.

"Yes," you say with no hesitation, their arms wrapping securely around you, your body sinking into the hug as you were left speechless at the amount of overwhelming emotions swirling inside you. Their pleasant perfumes invaded your nose at how close you were, their soft arms encasing you against them firmly, your lips blindly searching for one of theirs as you poured everything into the kiss, hands coming up to cup their cheek to deepen the kiss, your mouth then moving onto the other immediately, their hands at your waist squeezing with the intention as if to tell you that they meant the words, your mind unable to process the sheer joy inside you.

"Yes?" Natasha asked, unable to wipe the smile of her face as her chest was filled with love and warmth, her lips pressing over yours once more, unable to stop herself as Wanda pressed another one to your cheek, you being able to feel how the witch's lips were pulled into a wide smile, her nose scrunching up in that adorable manner.

"Yes, a million times yes," you sigh out, nuzzling into their comforting embraces, not sure on what to do about the overwhelming feelings fluttering inside you, the only thing you were sure on being your love for them.

The three of you watched in awe as Wanda slipped the ring out of the box, encouraging you to offer your hand out for her, the ring perfectly sliding onto your finger as you wiped away the stray tear of happiness that spilt down your cheek, a soft, breathy chuckle leaving you as you snuggled back into their soothing arms.

"Love isn't a strong enough word to describe how I feel about you both," you murmur softly, your head pressed against Natasha's shoulder as Wanda's arm glides up and down your back, her head resting on top of yours as she kisses Natasha softly, both of their hearts melting at your confession, Natasha's fingers caressing the back of your head, playing delicately with your hair.

"There isn't a word powerful enough that truly expresses the love we share," Wanda whispers, the three of you manoeuvring sightly to make it easier to cuddle, the three of you simply wanting to relish in the intimacy of the moment as your limbs tangled together, lips pressing ever so gently against one another, expressing your love silently as you sink into each other, the world around you melting away. You were left with only the lingering touches of tenderness and care as you longed to remember this moment forever, the love swirling inside you undeniable and all-consuming as you realised this was where you truly belonged.

You only ever needed each other. 

[jumpingjoltiks]

I want sugar daddy submas but a date with emmet. I feel like after a fancy lunch. They went to buy luxury furniture. And emmet asks the reader to decorate their house or room in ways that she wants it to be. And when the reader is choosing what sofa goes best in the living room (or her room) Emmett is just imaging all the kinds of things he can do with you on that sofa (and whether that sofa is good for sexy time.) when looking at all the mirror he just thinks about how he can f you in front of the mirror and see all the angle

Anon, I am so unbelievably sorry that this took so long to answer, but it has been eating at my brain for the entire time it's been sitting in my inbox and I really wanted to get it right. I hope what I finally came up was worth the wait!

Luxuries

Summery: Emmet takes you furniture shopping for the twin's summer house. Certain unspoken presumptions and misunderstandings in your relationship with the twins come to light. A little angst with a happy ending 💕

Pairings: Sugar Daddy!Emmet x Reader (GN), Implied Sugar Daddy!Ingo x Reader

Warnings: 18+ content (Minors Begone!), Sugar Daddy-esque relationship (and the consequences and implications of such), smut, dirty fantasies, personal and financial insecurities.

After a wonderful morning of trying on clothes and being spoiled to death by Ingo, Emmet meets both of you at a small diner. You’ve never even heard of this place but the atmosphere here is incredibly cozy.

The whole interior is a beautiful, solid hardwood, and each covered table is set up against a curtained window that lets in the light. The booths, far from the cheap vinyl you're used to in diners, are instead actual loveseats made with real leather. The tile floor below you is a lovely dark green, which makes the isle in between tables look like an emerald sea.

“I didn’t think you’d like a place like this. It’s very vintage.” And fancy. You think. This is like no diner you've ever been to.

“That’s because it’s been in business for nearly a century.” Ingo says as he takes the seat across from you, “We’ve been coming here since we first started at Gear Station.”

He sets a small bag under the table. It contains a wonderfully soft cardigan you'd found on a sale rack on your way out of the tailor's. Its price tag could have fed you for two weeks, but Ingo insisted on buying it for you anyway.

It's absurd to feel weird over a cardigan, you tell yourself, especially when it was the cheapest thing bought for you today. You put on a brave face at the tailor’s, mostly because there was someone else already there, but you’re really not used to having so much money to use on whatever you want.

Maybe that was it. The rest of the beautiful, beautiful clothes could be excused as a business expense, like a uniform for a job. But the cardigan, that was for you only. There was no getting around that.

Emmet's voice startles you out of your thoughts, and all of a sudden you're back in the diner.

“Yup yup! This building used to be the dining carriage on the luxury cross-regional line.” Emmet explains, sliding in next to you. His whole expression is aglow with happiness. You’ve come to understand that different smiles mean different things with him. This one shines with warmth. “They have done a lot of work to preserve and recreate as much as they can. These are even the same kind of chairs and tables they used back then!”

“I never even knew this was here…” You take a moment to marvel at the intricate wallpaper and polished wooden walls and try very hard not to think about how much has already been spent today.

“It’s a real gem, don’t you think?” Ingo’s eyes are sparkling. He looks so happy just to share this with you. “Everything here is wonderful as well. Please take a look at the menu and order whatever you’d like. It’s on us.”

~~~

If the twin’s choice of lunch surprised you, Emmet’s choice of where to take you on a date shocks you even more.

“Is this… a furniture store?”

“Mhmm!” Emmet watches your expression carefully. “I know it is unusual. But I want your help picking out some pieces for my and Ingo’s summer house. We have to host a bunch of parties this year. You’ll be spending a lot of time there with us and we want you to be comfortable.”

To his credit, Emmet doesn’t mention a thing about wanting to buy furniture for your place. He’s never been inside (truthfully, he doesn’t even know where you live), but judging from what Elesa’s told him about your lifestyle, it could probably use something nicer. And he would love to give it to you.

“But shouldn’t Ingo be here for that too?”

“Hmmmm, no. We have verrry similar tastes. And we both trust your sense of style, so he agreed to let us go together.”

“Oh. Okay then.” You still look unsure, but Emmet doesn’t seem to notice. He takes you by the hand and your heart flutters inside your chest.

“Full steam ahead!”

~~~

Calling the store massive is an understatement. Even in a city like Nimbasa, you've never seen anything like this.

It's like a labyrinth in here. Every way you turn is a new room full of a setup of furniture. Some of them are kitchens with huge sinks and granite countertops. Others are elaborate dining rooms with tables set for fifty. The ones Emmet most wants to explore are the living rooms.

Maybe this can be a good opportunity to get to know him after all. While browsing a whole wall full of chairs, you ask about his decorating style and preferences.

"Ingo and I like a modern look. It fits with our professional image, so it’s good for places we have to host in." His expression seems reserved, despite his smile.

You think back to how much they loved the old, vintage dining car, and wonder if sticking to a modern 'professional image' can be joined with what they actually like in practice.

Your eyes scan over the chairs, and you find a dark brown, almost black leather piece toward the center. It's traditional, in that the upholstery is very classic, but the lines are crisp and sharp, modern. You don't think it would look out of place in either scenario. You point it out.

"What about that one?"

Emmet brings a hand to his chin, considering, silent. You're worried you may have made a mistake until he quite suddenly turns around and marches across the room. He stops in front of a matched pair of very modern, round side tables, one black and one white, accented with marble tops and gold trim.

"A pair of those chairs with these tables could fill a nook by one of the windows." He says. "Verrry nice. An excellent combination!"

"That would be so cozy! It would be a nice place to sit and talk for a while." You say, excited that he's on board. "A rug under them all would help mark the space as its own little area.”

"Yes!" He puts a hand on your shoulder. “Let's mark these down and remember to look at rugs later. For now, couches."

~~~

There are almost as many couches in this place as there are chairs.

At one point, Emmet grabs your hand and pulls you down onto a loveseat with him to test it out. It's very comfy. Comfier still with you cuddled up under his arm.

Across from you both is a mirror on a large wall. It’s beautiful, with golden leaves and flowers surrounding the frame. In it, Emmet can see you curled into his side. He sees your reflection turn and gaze up at him. The look in your eyes is like he hung the stars. He wants you to always look at him like that.

How easy would it be, to turn his head and kiss you? His lips would fit against yours perfectly. He’s thought about it so many times already. In the dead of night. In the quiet morning. In the dull monotony of the work day. He wonders how you would react. Would you swoon against him, melt into him like he was made for you? His hand has already found its way to your waist. One quick tug, and you'd fall right into his lap - where you belong.

You'd sigh as his lips ghost their way down your neck. He'd trail kisses across your shoulders like rain. You’d gasp at the rough texture of his sideburns against your sweet, soft skin. He’d nip, maybe even bite. Ingo had gotten you those clothes in black… he’d have to mark you in other ways. In places only he could see.

Emmet thinks of his hand slipping across your neck to give a gentle squeeze. You’d shudder in his arms and your eyes would slip closed. His hand would slide down across your chest. Lower. Lower. He feels you breathe against him. The fluttering of your heartbeat. Lower. To the waist of your pants. He’d stop, rubbing his thumb against the line where clothing meets skin, until your hand wraps around his and shows him exactly what you want.

He’d look up from where he sucks dark bruises onto your shoulder. Silver eyes blown dark with lust would meet yours through the reflection. You’d watch yourself become the very image of desperation as he worked you. You would see how he took you apart piece by piece and built you back together with only his touch. The jerking of your hips against his hand. The friction driving you to a squirming mess against him. You’d be laid out before him in the mirror like a feast.

"Emmet..." Your voice is like honey to his ears. A voice on the breeze that whispers, begs for more. He’d give you anything. Everything. "Emmet..."

…

"Emmet, are you there?"

He snaps out of his trance. Just like that, the dream is gone. He's back in the furniture store with you sitting next to him.

"I am Emmet. I was lost on a train of thought. What were you saying?"

“This chair is nice, but I don’t know about the color. I wanted to know what you think.”

“I think we should get this mirror.”

“The mirror?” You look baffled, and turn to make a face at your reflection. It doesn’t really seem like his style, “Why?”

“I like the view I’m seeing in it.”

~~~

Emmet circles a huge sectional. It’s been presented with a luxurious, dark grey fabric. His hands sweep across the back and he notes that even the top is cushioned. There’s so much room, he could fuck you in a different position on it every day for a month and still have opportunities for more. The prospect has merit…

He shakes himself out of it. Any more daydreaming, and you’ll start to get worried about him. Besides, as much as he wants it to be, your relationship isn’t like that with them. Not yet.

“What about this couch?” He asks as you take a seat. You bounce as you plop down, and his fingers tighten indistinguishably on the upholstery.

Its humiliating for you to think about how this couch wouldn't even fit in your apartment. It’s lovely, really. And very nice to sit on. It's even softer than your bed! But it’s far too big for your little studio, (if you could even call a space so small a studio. You’re pretty sure Elesa's closet is bigger than your apartment).

“It’s really comfy! Will it work in your summer house?”

“It might be a little small…” He thinks aloud, coming around the side to drop next to you. Emmet leans back, putting his feet up onto the ottoman in front. “We could add a few more sections to it. It would look nice in the conversation pit. Or…”

He turns to you with a look on his face that’s clearly trying to be nonchalant.

“We could always get it for your place.”

You nearly choke. “My place?” You look away, trying to control your expression. There’s no way that would work. It couldn’t even fit it through the door. You try to keep your voice measured, throw in a small laugh, “I don’t know about that…”

“If you do not like it, there are lots of other things here. We could always find something else.”

Emmet says it like buying something like this for you is nothing. And for him, maybe it is. It occurs to you that you don’t really know much about their lives at all, or how well off they actually are. Maybe they really did go through life not even thinking about what it cost them.

Meanwhile, your funds have been so low that you haven’t even thought about replacing the ratty old futon you’ve had since college. There are a million other things that you’re more concerned about than your comfort - like fixing your car, or paying off your school debts, or how until recently, you struggled to afford just surviving from one month to another.

“Um.. maybe. Why don’t we take a look in the next room.”

Anything to get away from this couch.

~~~

Emmet’s warm smile has fallen. His lips are pursed and there’s a furrow in his brow, like how he looks when trying to come up with battle strategies. You pick at your cuticles. Silence stretches out in between you two like an impassible river. Emmet has always been quieter than his brother, but it’s never been like this before.

“You said you have a conversation pit in your summer home?” You ask, trying to kickstart the conversation again. He’d also said you’d be spending time there, so… “When will I get to visit?”

And you pray the answer is still soon.

Some tension seems to leave him as he answers, “We usually host two parties for the season. Ingo and I would love you to be there for both,”

“I’d like that!” You answer, a little too quickly. But he seems to take it well. He almost looks relieved, and that comforts you as well.

Once you’ve broken the ice, conversation flows easily between you two once more. In fact, you’re both doing really well together! Your chatter is lighthearted, sometimes even boldly teasing, and though you have to hustle to keep up with his long legs and purposeful stride, you find he keeps looking toward you, like he wants to make sure you’re still with him. It’s endearing.

Until he tries to buy you another couch. Another wave of shame crests over you – it’s so powerful that you can’t think of what to do or how to save this moment without losing it. And it was going so well, too!

“Emmet, please stop. I’m sorry, but I don’t think you should buy this.”

“What, why?” He seems baffled, like he can’t figure out what you mean, “Is the color wrong? You shouldn’t worry. We can get it redone to fit your tastes.”

“I- no. That’s not- I just wouldn’t be comfortable with it.”

“But… it’s very comfortable?” Emmet looks confused, “The cushions are plenty soft. You just said so.”

“No, no. I mean, I don’t feel comfortable with you buying something like this for me!”

"But that’s why we're here. You deserve to be comfortable."

He pauses for a moment, as if struck by something.

"Are you not comfortable? With Ingo and I buying you things?"

You pause. Today has been a lot, with Ingo taking you to such a fancy, expensive tailor and Emmet wanting to buy you all of this new furniture. It’s so much money. More than you’ve ever had to spend on your own. But truthfully, it’s nice too. To be able to look at something and not have to worry about what it cost. To just decide you can have it, no matter what it was.

And it was nice, SO nice, to have people who wanted to give it to you.

"It's been really nice. But…" You sit down on the nearest couch, eyes facing downward as you try to put together the words to express how you’re feeling without choking.

But at what cost? You’re not naive. You know that this relationship is transactional. Every debt will have to be paid eventually. Once it’s all wrung up, what will the price on your shoulders be?

You’re scared that soon the spell will be broken. The debt collector will come knocking and demand something you can’t give. What will you do then, stuck with a price you can’t bear to pay and no way to back out? It’s terrifying. Would Ingo and Emmet do that to you? You’ve known them long enough to think that they probably wouldn’t, but how can you really be sure? How can you be sure of anything?

Emmet carefully sits across from you, patiently waiting for your next words.

“I don’t know why you’re both… It’s all so much, and I don’t know what you’re expecting from me in exchange for all of this.” Your expression is worried, almost scared.

Emmet feels his veins turn to ice. He suddenly feels like how he did as a child, making a rookie mistake in a battle and finding out how quickly and badly things could backfire on him. This was the last impression he or Ingo ever wanted to give.

"We are not buying you things because we want something from you. We wanted to do this for you because we like seeing you happy. You should have nice things." Your eyes are watery. He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and offers it to you. “We only want you to be happy. Is that hard to believe?”

Emmet knows now that the game is almost up. The three of you are going to have to sit down and talk about your relationship – it’s all too quickly growing out of the convenient agreement it started as and into something more. They want to give you more, but Emmet realizes that they shouldn’t have assumed you’d just accept without talking it through first. You were so much more than what you could give to them. Yet somewhere along the way he and Ingo had both failed to consider how you might make assumptions about their intentions.

And then there’s the matter of their attraction to you. Emmet likes you. Wants you. They both do. But they can’t stand the idea of you thinking they’re buying you. Love that is an obligation is not what they want. It is so much more than that for them.

“I am Emmet. And I am sorry. I should have known it was too much to offer.” He says as you wipe your eyes. “I am serious though. Neither Ingo or I would ever expect anything like that.”

“I-” You take a deep breath, “Thank you. I’m sorry too. I should have told you how I was feeling sooner.”

Emmet reaches out and takes your hand in his. This time, you don’t pull away.

“Do you think we could start our date over?” He asks. You look at him and know that if you said no right now, he would take you home and everything would still be okay. “What if we just did something fun together instead? The amusement park is still open.”

You laugh through the last of your tears. “I’d like that. Can we ride the ferris wheel?”

He rubs a thumb over your knuckles.

“That sounds perfect.”

~~~

Thanks for reading! 💕

If you liked this fic, there is now a direct sequel!

[sytoran]

𝐈'𝐌 (𝐂)𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 ⌇ wanda maximoff

summary: when they said 'white christmas', you thought it meant being covered in snow. not...... this.

☰ PAIRING: sub!wanda x dom!gn!reader

☰ TAGS: modern!au, smut (18+), first times, loss of virginity, corruption, rough sex, body worship, teasing, fingering, nipple play, you make wanda squirt for the first time, then you overstimulate her 'cause you're a fuckin' tease

masterlist

pining for wanda maximoff was one thing, but being best friends with her troublemaker twin brother pietro was a whole ‘nother hurdle you couldn’t leap over.

she was so alluring, in the best and worst sense. with the wide emerald eyes and the little skirts she wore and the adorable nose scrunch.

pietro would probably kill you if he found out what was going on inside your creative imagination every time you went over to his place (which he shared with wanda).

in your defense, it had started as something innocent: stumbling into her the first time you went over to hang out with pietro, with bashful apologies and not-so-hidden blushes. she had looked at you in a wondrous awe, green eyes sparkling with hidden intent.

then you started coming over more often, and you started stumbling into her more often. it was totally unintentional, though. definitely…

“oi, help me put up the decorations!” pietro called out to you from the living room. december had swung round again, and you were helping the maximoffs prepare for the jolly season of christmas.

when you entered the living room, you were enraptured by the many colourful decorations, the center of attention being the huge christmas tree. it was adorned with silver and red ornaments, not to forget the myriad of wrapped presents under its evergreen leaves.

to your right, wanda was standing on her tip-toes, trying to put a wreath on a part of the wall she couldn’t quite reach. you quickly scanned your surroundings, to find that pietro was preoccupied with something else.

seizing the opportune moment, you approached the redhead from behind. you reached up to help her hold the wreath, smiling as she let out a soft gasp at your presence.

“may i?” you asked wanda softly, your warm breath hitting her skin. the redhead quickly nodded, looking down, the tips of her ears burning a bright red. as you stood behind her, you saw her thighs clench deliciously and your eyes darkened, a smirk finding its way onto your face.

guess wanda wasn’t that innocent.

as you placed the wreath above your heads, you allowed your crotch to brush against her ass for the slightest moment. “there you go,” you murmured softly, right above wanda’s ear.

you swore you saw wanda bite her lip, but then pietro was coming towards the two of you, and the moment had ended as quickly as it had begun.

later that day after the festivities and a hearty dinner, you and the maximoff twins were settled down to watch a movie.

right as you were about to hit play on ‘home alone’, pietro jumped up from his seat, clutching his phone while staring at it with a horrified expression.

“what is it?” wanda asked concernedly at his frantic state.

“oh shit, i left my car at the car wash!”

“what the- how-”

“no, trust me, i’m not dumb. so i went to bring my car for a wash, but then i wanted to eat sour patch kids, so i went to the convenience store at the petrol kiosk, but then there were no sour patch kids, so i ran to the supermarket, but then after buying them i forgot about my car, so i just went back home, thinking i had gone to the grocery store on a regular occasion-”

“that is quite dumb.” wanda interrupts, a grin forming on her face. you would’ve agreed wholeheartedly, if not for the fit of crushing laughter overtaking your body.

wanda watches you with a certain amusement, and by the time you’ve stopped making fun of your best friend, he was already out of the house, the door nearly swinging off its hinges.

you and wanda were left alone in the living room, the only sounds being michael buble and shania twain’s rendition of ‘white christmas’ playing over the sound speaker.

you knew it was wrong, but some slightly predatory thoughts of wanda were swimming in your head as you stared at the redhead, the image of her bending her to your will and doing as you wished lingering. she was just so perfect, so sweet, so innocent, so-

“do you want to continue the movie?” wanda asked you softly, reaching up to run a hand along the side of your cheek. you froze at her sudden boldness, and it seemed like she did too.

“okay,” you managed to say, shielding the stutter that threatened to make its appearance. but before wanda could retract her hand in embarrassment, you seized it, pulling her onto your lap.

wanda’s little breathy gasp sent a jolt of arousal right down to your core. you could see her bashfulness, afraid to even turn around to look at you. but then she shifted in your lap, leaning back to rest her head on your shoulders, making it clear she was definitely not opposed to the idea.

letting out a small huff of satisfaction, you wrapped an arm around her stomach, pulling wanda in even closer.

albeit rather shy at first, wanda warmed up to your bold touches quickly throughout the movie. she seemed more than content with letting your hands glide mindlessly across her stomach and her thighs, in circular motions that drove her insane.

after long moments of a heated atmosphere with palpable sexual tension, wanda let out an addicting whine when your fingers slipped under the hem of her sweater.

you smile at her mischievously, even though you know she can't see you. but it's your laugh that fucks her up in the best way possible: warm breath painting the back of her neck, a rasp that's practically ear candy in close proximity, and-

"would you?" you ask seriously, breaking the ice first, though rather slowly.

wanda gets snapped out of her mind whirl, still struggling yet turned on by the fact that she can't see you. it heightens her other senses, and she's so unbelievably turned on she think she might die.

"...would i what?" wanda dares to ask, her breath picking up but refusing to stutter.

you don't respond for a while. you want to ruin her, but you want to prolong her suffering. the sound of wanda's shallow breaths echoes in your ears.

finally, you reach up to cup wanda’s face from behind, using your thumb to press down on her bottom lip.

wanda lets out an honest-to-god whimper from the back of her throat. in that moment, she freezes, completely stilling in your arms, half terrified and fully aroused.

well, fuck.

your grip on wanda’s hip becomes downright possessive, short nails digging into her hipbone. wanda gasps breathily, and you lean closer, much closer, lips brushing against the back of wanda's ear piercing, then murmuring directly into her ear.

“would you let me fuck you right now, wanda?"

the redhead could have sworn the entirety of her bring ascended then. her heartbeat was drumming in her ears. "i- uh," she mutters unintelligibly, throat running dry when you forcefully pulls her hips closer.

despite your close proximity, you never fail to see the way wanda's thighs clench, and it excites you.

you're probably wrong for wanting this, for wanting to fuck wanda senseless, when you'd only met a few weeks ago. but it's hard to resist, when the redhead bucks against your thigh, when she's already acting so flustered.

"haven't answered me yet, love," you remind wanda, tracing your fingertips over her cold skin, slowly going higher and higher up her sweater.

obviously, wanda thinks, the logical reasoning would be to say no. even though you're smoking hot, you did after all just meet a few weeks ago. and to do it in her brother's house? with his best friend? insane. absolutely, no way in hell, would she ever-

“y-yeah. sure, i mean. uhm.” wanda answers, evidently embarrassed. “if you want to.”

and that's how you ended up with your fingers buried knuckle-deep inside wanda maximoff's cunt.

fascinating, you know, but it had worked nonetheless, so who was to blame you?

wanda was rather hesitant of her inexperience at first, it being an insecurity to her. but it has quite the opposite effect on you.

"you're such a good girl," you groaned, praising the redhead who was writhing below you. you take pleasure in the way she squirmed, so shy yet so needy.

desperate pants echoed around the living room, pleads for alleviation leaving wanda’s lips, as the feeling of pleasure flooded every one of her senses.

the movie was long forgotten, and the only thing that currently existed in your world was wanda maximoff.

the fast yet careful pace of slender fingers thrusting in and out of her dripping sex had wanda seeing stars. her thighs were obediently spread out on the sofa, your steady hands never failing to keep them open.

not like it would’ve been necessary, anyway, considering wanda's utter pliancy and churning need for that overwhelming feeling to never end, for you cruelly delightful ministrations to bring her over the edge.

“you like that, sweetheart?” you asked, your other hand leaving her thigh to slip off her sweater with some difficulty and tugging at her hardened nipple. wanda’s breathy moans got louder, instinctively clenching around your fingers harder.

wanda couldn’t bring herself to say anything, not when her state of mind was in a blissful paradise. you tilted her face up to stare at her clouded eyes.

when wanda’s eyelids fluttered open, to be greeted by the sight of your deliciously darkened eyes, sucking your own fingers off of her juices, she nearly came then and there.

“please,” she whispered, trying to bring up her hips for more.

“i know, i know,” you murmured, never stopping your sinful work, driving your fingers deeper and harder each time. at a particularly harsh curl of your fingers, wanda arched off the sofa, letting out a scream that rang in your head.

“oh, i need it,” wanda whined, as you hit that spot again. you kissed off the tears on the side of wanda’s eyes, looking at her beauty with a wondrous awe.

“mhm, what do you need?” you asked with a teasing lilt, purposefully leaving your fingers in a way she wouldn’t be able to cum just yet. wanda groaned in frustration, but you held your own.

“i need to-” she was cut off when you leaned forward to suck purple bruises into her porcelain skin, as she struggled with the distraction. “i want- oh, right there.”

you began sucking on her hard nips, your fingers still buried in her sopping cunt. wanda threw her head back, eyes rolling into the back of her head with sounds of pleasure falling unashamedly from her lips.

wanda had lost control, you knew, yet you wanted more. you craved more. you wanted to edge her into the darkest depths of oblivion, bring her to a high she didn’t know existed, until she wouldn’t be able to fuck anyone else the same.

you added a third finger, throwing both of her legs over your shoulders. with one last thrust that brought wanda over the edge, she came with a blinding vision of white light, your name falling from her lips like a sacred chant.

“oh- i’m gonna-” wanda cut off her own moans when her orgasm hit like a tidal wave, figuratively and literally. her ropes of white cream came out in spurts, painting your fingers and forearms, then her own thighs, then more of you.

well, it sure is a white christmas.

you watched her cum with a hint of pride, then smiling slowly at her, knowing it had been a first.

“first time squirting?” you asked, kissing up her thighs.

“...first time actually cumming,” wanda responded shakily, then laughing nervously. “thank you.”

you chuckled at her embarrassment, pulling her in for a kiss. it was slow and sweet at first, wanda savouring the softness of it all, before you slipped your tongue between her lips to deepen the kiss. wanda let you work your magic, closing her eyes again in ecstasy.

it was a while before you could bring yourself to stop kissing wanda. “anytime. i-”

the sudden sound of a key unlocking the door made both of you freeze in horror. before either of you had the chance to even lift a finger, the door swung open. damn pietro for always being so speedy.

“okay, they towed my car, but i got it back. anyways, i-”

the blonde caught sight of what was happening before him and nearly passed out there and then. pietro’s jaw hung open, then he stepped back, then he let out a sokovian curse.

“uh, merry christmas, pietro?” you trailed off, looking at him with an awkward grin, fingers still deep inside his sister.

he stepped back, running a hand through dusty blonde hair, still trying to process the scene before him. the next words fell from his lips in a rush.

"i didn't see that coming."

check out my blog for more sub!wanda content :D

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[hometoursandotherstuff]

This 1988 mansion in Oak Brook, IL looks like a former hotel or apt. house (it's not). What I like about it, is that it's not white & gray- it's bold. 6bds, 7ba, $2.395M.

The entrance hall. It's been freshly painted and they didn't make it gray. Glad they didn't listen to HGTV. This emerald green is stunning against the black and white.

This floor sure is lively. I don't know if I like the round pattern in the larger squares, though.

Don't like the dull wallpaper, love the blue cabinets, don't care for the too-busy backsplash.

Moody style dining room. But, it gets natural light from the double doors.

Sunken living room with pink and black accents. Love the purple couches.

Ooh, graffiti wall. What does it say? Loyalties?

The guest powder room needs some more decor. The mirror looks like porcupine quills.

Office or library. Like the cabinetry and ceiling.

Huge family/rec room.

This looks like a home school classroom.

The upstairs hallway.

The primary bedroom is very large. Nice fireplace and carpet.

Like the terrace.

Huge en-suite bath.

Looks like 2 separate closets. One for shoes and accessories. This is nice.

Large secondary bedroom decorated in dots and stripes.

Beautiful bath.

This large bedroom has a coffered ceiling and an en-suite.

The bedrooms in this home are gigantic. This one has a terrace.

Nice pool room.

Nice home gym or dance studio.

Sauna in the gym.

Big home theater. I wonder if the chairs come with it.

The patio has everything. Looks like a cabana, fireplace, pergola with outdoor kitchen, and hot tub.

Bathroom for the pool. This is lovely.

1.03 acres.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/107-Livery-Cir-Oak-Brook-IL-60523/4497402_zpid/

[spooky-pomegranate]

Eyes on Fire (pt 3)

*Enemies to Lovers inspired by the Year Zero music video*

Papa Emeritus II x Reader (18+) Word Count: 2.8k (Read on AO3) Last Part: (Part 1) (Part 2) Next Part: (Part 4)

Summary: Secondo recounts the best and worst night of his life. You are taken to a special place in the Abbey full of magic and perhaps something more sinister.

(Dividers by @wrathofrats)

When the tendrils of sleep blackened the edges of his vision and he slipped into unconscious Secondo often remembered that night.

Sin and revelry.

Opulence and greed.

Tradition and pride.

Failure.

He partook as his father had. As his father’s father had. As his father’s father’s father had. Like the men before him, Secondo played the part of a new Papa well on the night of his ascension and everything had gone to plan … until it hadn’t.

The Abbey had been dressed in his new colors. Emerald green banners hung from the halls, table runners of a similar shade decorated the dining rooms, and hundreds of flowering bouquets of green calla lilies scented the air. The siblings had affectionately dubbed the rapid overnight changes to the Abbey “The Great Green Wave.”

The festivities had started in the early morning. A feast was held in Secondo’s honor. Brothers, sisters, bishops, and cardinals had come from near and far to celebrate. They followed him all day, presenting him with gifts and showering him with praises. In the evening, he delivered his first Black Mass and unveiled the design of his piercing papal paints to an adoring clergy. They had cheered for him and sung his name. Secondo felt proud.

He was of course aware of the ulterior motives from some. Social climbers were everywhere and as Papa, his coattails would be heavier with more of them clinging on for crumbs of his power. But for the most part, on his ascension day, Secondo let pride rule.

But everything changed in the catacombs.

The night before his ascension day Primo, as the most recent Papa to rule, had come to his younger brother to explain what would happen down below… or at least what was supposed to happen down below.

The catacombs were the site of the last tradition Secondo would need to complete before officially becoming Papa Emeritus II. Primo explained that on an onyx altar deep in the catacombs there was an old leather-bound book. The book had been in the Emeritus family for as long as there had been a church. It was a gift to their family from the Old One himself, written in the blood of the fallen and created from the ashes of the ninth circle. But the book was more than just a relic of the underworld. As Primo explained, the tome was a link between the world of the living and the world of the dead. And on the very special night of a Papal ascension, the Dark Lord used the book to speak directly with the newly anointed Papa. Secondo would be able to ask Him questions and together they would establish a path for his papacy.

But when the time came and Secondo stood before the old book… nothing happened.

He read every page. And then he read them again and again and again and again. For hours, Secondo stared at the unholy text until his eyes burned and his head hurt. But he didn’t care. He didn’t move. Secondo pushed aside the pain, shoving it somewhere deep, and ignored his bodily needs. Eventually, the sun rose and the first day of his papacy began. But Secondo remained underground. He denied visitors, turning away assistants, ghouls, his father, and his brothers. He refused food, drink, and rest whenever offered. He stayed rooted to the same spot on the stone floor hoping that His voice would finally call out.

When Secondo missed the next evening's Black Mass rumors swirled around the Abbey. But he didn’t hear them. He remained in the catacombs for three days and four nights. He would have stayed longer, but the lack of food and water eventually took a heavy toll on his body and Secondo collapsed on the fourth night.

In the weeks that passed, Secondo began his duties as Papa. But every night like the moon to the night sky, he obediently returned to the catacombs. But no matter how hard he prayed or how much he bargained… it never happened.

As far as he knew, Secondo was the first Papa in a long line of Emeritus’s to enter his papacy without guidance from the One Below. The thought kept him up most nights. Secondo would toss and turn worrying about what he’d done to displease his Lord. He recounted every moment of his life hoping for a moment of clarity so he could amend and atone. But nothing ever came.

Stubborn as an ox however Secondo remained determined. In the waking hours, he scoured the church’s library for answers, reading books from the private Papal-restricted sections and ancient tomes long forgotten. He focused intently on his religious duties and presented as many offerings to the Old One as he could, indulging in sins he knew He enjoyed.

Day in and day out Secondo’s life became about service to his Master and so did his papal reign.

Secondo was aware his consuming attentions warped his reputation. He became known as a cruel and bitter Papa, but it was only because he pushed his flock to be their best when mediocracy was easier. Any assistant who missed evening prayer was replaced, any cook who forgot to bless his meal was reassigned, and any Ghoul who disrespected the Old One was returned to Him.

There were no exceptions. No exclusions. Except for one. Except for you.

A week had gone by since Secondo promoted his first Imperatrixes. They had been subservient, attentive, and sufficient. At each meal they had followed his instructions and served him according to the old traditions, lighting the sacred black candles and kneeling silently for his prayer. But for a week, you stood out from the rest. You didn’t want to be there. That was clear as day. You would hide in the shadows and keep your head bowed. And true to your word you hadn’t participated in a single offering. Instead, choosing to skulk out to the butler's pantry like a kitchen mouse at the end of each meal.

The rational part of Secondo wanted to send you back to Primo and his gardens. The more irrational part of him despised you….hated you, even wanted you out of the church. In your chambers you had been openly combative with him, speaking to him in a tone no one else dared. Santana’s how he had wanted to put you in your place then and send you out the door.

The gall. The god-forsaken gall!

And the way you had stepped to him and cocked your little chin up. The way your chest had puffed up like small prey pretending to be a big predator. The way you had squinted your bright eyes and crinkled your little nose. Lying in his bed he replayed it all again and again and again. For a week he fell asleep with only the image of your stormy eyes in his mind.

But Secondo never sent you to Primo. He never let that part of his mind win because he reminded himself of the fire. He reminded himself of how it had burned uncontrollably when you looked at one another. It had to have been a sign. Secondo was sure. Absolutely certain. In all the books he’d read Satan’s favorite way to message the living was always through hellfire. What happened in the dining room was surely the Dark Lord's first attempt to communicate with him. There could be no other explanation.

But since that night nothing else extraordinary had happened. In the daylight when you shared space no more hellfire erupted and at night when he returned alone to the book in the catacombs no words were spoken.

But ever-stubborn Secondo wasn’t going to let you go.

He had a plan. He would see the fire again. He would hear his voice.

“Get out.”

“What?”

“Leave us.” Secondo’s leather glove wrapped around your wrist and you felt your pulse spike.

“H-have we o-offended you, Papa?” Sister Rose’s voice shook. She along with your other Sisters hadn’t seen this sudden outburst coming. Everyone panicked.

“There has been no offense sorella but tonight I will dine with her alone.”

You started to speak when Secondo suddenly tugged you closer causing you to clumsily trip over the frayed edges of the oriental rug on the floor. The corners of your vision blurred in dizzying motion as you hurtled forward straight toward the corner of the large walnut table. You closed your eyes, bracing for the inevitable impact….but it never came.

Just as quickly as you had fallen the hand circling your wrist shot to your waist and pulled upright. In the dark, you felt the brush of silk robes and the surprisingly strong muscles hidden underneath them. You sharply inhaled. The air smelled of sweet tobacco and flowering incense. You listened to his breathing. Deep and steady against your ears. Calm like a river. For a moment, it was nice. To be held. To feel safe in strong arms. To have someone keep you close. To have someone protect you, even if it was from just a table. It was nice to be in someone’s arms. It had been so long.

But when he spoke the spell was broken and you remembered just who exactly was holding you tight.

“You are dismissed sorellas. Go in sin.” Secondo’s warm glove slid from your waist. As the last of your sisters excited the dining room, he moved slowly to the fireplace at the other side and stared into the flames. The scent of him lingered behind him. Sweet and smoky.

“Take a seat sorella.” You did as he asked and pulled out the dining chair closest to you. Secondo turned and tutted.

“No,” he said sternly shaking his head. “Sit here by my chair. There is much we need to discuss and I do not wish to shout all evening.”

Fuck.

Your heart banged so violently against your ribs that you worried the bones might break.

For the past week, you’d managed to avoid Secondo’s wrath by sticking to your duties and slipping away before he took one of your siblings. He’d never asked you to partake again but you worried now he’d changed his mind. If he was going to give you an ultimatum you were ready to pack your bags and run.

Never in a million years would you willing touch Secondo. Unless of course, he was keeping you from smashing your face into a table. But that was different.

“Of course Papa.” You obediently moved to the chair beside his. “Have I done something wrong?”

Secondo eyed you as he took his seat at the head of the table. His expression was cold, but you couldn’t read it further. His papal paint hid his true emotions.

“I have spent many hours thinking about our last discussion and I have…” Secondo paused and you balled your fist in worry under the table “Frankly sorella I have concerns.”

“Concerns Papa?”

“Si. I am worried that you have lost your way.”

Your mind raced with all the things you could have possibly done wrong. There had been nothing. You’d been the shining example of obediency. "Lost my way, Papa? I'm just trying to serve you and the Old One as best I can."

Secondo leaned back in his chair. “I understand that, but there's more to serving the Dark Lord than merely following instructions. You seem disconnected, almost as if you're not fully committed to our faith."

"I assure you, Papa,” you stammered, “my faith is unwavering. I simply want to honor your teachings and serve Him to the best of my ability."

Secondo looked at you for a long moment. His piercing white eye made you feel small… as though you were being judged by the Old One himself. "That may be the case, but I fear your mind does not reflect your words.”

You frowned and looked down at your hands. A strange tightness twisted in your chest. What was he talking about? You had been faithful and obedient, hadn't you? Sure you weren’t always the rule follower that some of the meeker and younger siblings tended to be but that wasn’t against His teachings. Free will was just as important as the prayers. So what if you’d snuck off to the ghoul dens and ate fruit from his pantry? What did that matter?

"I don't understand, Papa. What do you require of me that I'm not doing?"

Secondo took a deep breath. "It's in your eyes, sorella. There's a fire there, a defiance that tells me you're hiding something. Something you shouldn't be."

In your eyes? In your fucking eyes?!

What the hell was he talking about?

Your heart pounded in your ears, and you tried to hide the sudden fury that overcame you. You reached up to cover your face, attempting to smooth away any traces of your anger that had bubbled to the surface. "Papa, I assure you, I am not hiding anything.” Other than my consuming hatred of you. “And I have done exactly as you have asked."

“If that is true then I would like to ask one more thing of you.”

“Name it.”

“I want you by my side for every hour of the waking day. I want you with me always. Sorella… become my assistant.”

Any hope of reigning in your emotions burned alive. You erupted.

“I’d rather die.”

There it was.

You may have slipped on the mask of a brava sorellina for a week but Secondo knew…that wasn’t who you were. This was. Insubordinate. Reckless. A lost and wayward soul. Una diavolessa laid at his feet. A challenge given to him by Satan himself.

It all made sense.

He understood the fire now. It had been a sign from the Dark One. He’d put you here as a test. Secondo would need to lead you back into the light of the Morning Star. And no matter the cost he would pay it. He would redeem you by whatever means necessary. He would make you a shining member of His church an example for all to see. 

As Papa Emeritus the Second it was his duty and he would not fail… because through you he knew would finally be able to speak to the Old One. He just had to break you and mold you back together in His image.

And he would break you. 

“Eat up, diavolessa. I want to show you something.”

Dinner was unbearable, but somehow you survived.

Luckily the food had been delicious and the wine plentiful. Neither you nor Secondo had spoken until your plates and glasses were empty. Only then did he ask you to accompany him to the catacombs, and against all sound judgment you agreed. That’s how you found yourself deep underground with Papa Emeritus the Second staring at an ancient book on a black altar.

“Do you know what this is sorella?”

“No, Papa.”

“Come closer.”

For the second time that evening, Secondo’s gloved hand wrapped around your wrist and he tugged you closer, pulling you roughly toward toward the strange-looking book.

On its cover were carved images of demons and the Morning Star. The pages were thick and yellowed, and as Secondo opened them, you felt a chill run down your spine. You had heard tales of these ancient tomes, forbidden and guarded with great secrecy by the ranks of the church. They were said to contain powerful magic, capable of summoning demons and divulging the future. And there, in front of you, was one such book. You could feel its power. You wondered if it was alive.

“He wrote this didn’t he?”

Secondo nodded.

“Why are we here, Papa?”

“I want to read it to you.”

As Secondo began to recite from the ancient text, the air in the catacombs grew thicker, charged with an ethereal energy that sent shivers down your spine. The words were in a language you couldn't understand, a twisted blend of Latin and an unknown primal tongue that clawed its way into your mind. As Secondo continued, the torches flickered and dimmed, casting long shadows that danced across the walls like spectral figures. The ground beneath your feet felt uneasy and you knew the earth was trembling in response to dark magic.

You tried to pull away from Secondo's grip but his hold on your wrist tightened. You couldn’t breathe. You wanted to run. To scream. To beg him to stop. To hide from whatever was about to happen but just as you thought you couldn't bear it a second longer, a low rumbling echoed through the chamber and the lights went out completely. 

Then you were falling.

Down.

Down.

Down.

Somewhere in the distance, Secondo screamed your name. But just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. You landed with a jolt on solid ground and the impact knocked the wind from your lungs. Gasping for air, you struggled to make sense of your surroundings. Everything was pitch-black. The ground beneath you felt like dirt instead of stone. Sulfur and ash wafted through the air.

"Papa, where are you? Papa? Secondoooo?!"

A deep voice roared from the darkness. “Do you miss him already child?” 

(Follow along on AO3 here) NEXT: PART 4

[hyacintheros]

Suspended In Gaffa

|| (Regulus Black x Fem!Reader)

Main Masterlist

Word Count: 1.9k

P.S: Had a little idea in mind, hope this will come to please c:

“There's an old muggle myth… every star in the sky, no matter how small or large, are people who've passed on in life. I don't think it would be so bad, being a star” The girl says, leaves rustling in the wind around them, the nightly autumn weather nipping at their cheeks.

Regulus turns his head, still laying down on the grass, looking at her with a glint of amusement, plucking a stray leaf that has fallen into her hair. “You're already a star, mon étoile”

Looking back at his life now, Regulus would have laughed in your face had you told him he'd be living in the Welsh countryside after graduation. The thought unfathomable to him, unreachable.

“Darling, can you grab the cherry tomatoes from the garden?” His girlfriend comes out of the kitchen, sporting an apron Hope Lupin had gifted. Regulus looks up from his book, marking the page then heading outside, giving her a quick peck on the cheek on the way to the door.

She fries up his egg, sunny-side up, and sprinkles a dash of asiago white pepper, her secret ingredient. To this day, Regulus has never found out what made his eggs taste so good.

The wavy haired boy returns back a small, hand-woven basket filled halfway with cherry tomatoes. “Could I make you a coffee, love?” he asks the girl, currently obsessed with his brand new Italian moka pot.

She laughs, allowing him a spot on the stove to start brewing his coffee. They rest in easy silence, accustomed to their routine for breakfast. She sets the table with her ceramic dining set, ones she got at the morning market a few months back, decorated with small little snakes.

Regulus sets the coffees at their respective seats, digging into their breakfast. An owl arrives as they dine, pecking at the window. “I'll get it!” The girl brightly says.

Offering the owl a treat, she grabs the letter attached to its leg. “Regulus, love, it's for you” she hands the boy the letter, he wipes his hands in his napkin, opening the letter. 

“I've been invited to a ball at Rosier Manor..” Regulus trails off, looking at the date of the ball. “S'for tomorrow!” He jumps up in a panic, briskly walking to his closet.

“What's got you in a hurry?” The girl says, worried he hadn't finished breakfast. He looks back at her, a very rare shyness taking over him. “Not sure if I've got my dress robes..” The girl smiles, going to the spare room.

She hands him one of his dress robes, all washed and pressed, kept in one of those muggle garment dust covers. Regulus thanks his girlfriend, gingerly taking the robes from her and inspecting them. 

Evan and Barty always had a tendency to leave things last minute, this invitation obviously one of them. He looks back at the letter, being told to bring a plus one if he wished. Going back to his girlfriend, he asks, “Will you accompany me to the ball?” 

She kisses his lips gently, knowing how hard it is going to be for him to see all the Pureblood families again. “Of course, mon ange” Being a Pureblood herself, she knows the pressure he's putting on himself, though her parents were much kinder and more accepting of their move to Wales.

“D’you wanna match? I can finally wear that emerald green dress I bought in Paris!” He looks at her excited state, lazily grinning. Regulus would do anything she'd ask of him, even if it meant his own demise.

“I'll get the green bow tie then.. Oh I should probably owl them back, just to confirm our attendance.” Regulus grabs a  quill and sits on the extra desk in the spare room. He hands the letter to the girl, asking if she could send it with their owl.

She pulls him with her back to the dining room, trying to get him to eat again. “Come on love, food's gone cold.. Would you like me to heat it up?” He shrugs it off, saying it's fine and continues to eat his eggs, not wanting to bother his darling girl.

Finishing up her coffee, she says to him, “We should get them a gift! It's rude if we show up with nothing.” Regulus ponders on this for a little while, thinking of the best thing to get Evan and Barty. Finally, he says, “We should make a trip to Diagon Alley.” 

After cleaning the kitchen up and fluffing the couch pillows, the two approach the fireplace, grabbing the lustering green floo powder. She goes first, giving Regulus a small peck, then disappearing into the fire. The steel-eyed boy follows her actions, dusting his suit off at his destination.

“So, where are we off to then?” She locks her arms with his, her Mary Jane's clicking as she walks, doll-like. “Well dolly, let's head to the Magical Menagerie. Got a feeling they would appreciate a little pet..”

“Don't they already have an owl? They don't like cats, nor rats, or even bats!” She rhymes on, giggling. Regulus smiles, finding her behaviour quite adorable. “No dovey, you'll see.” He brushes her chin with his rings.

Pulling the girl into the store, they browse around. Regulus already knows what he wants to get for their two friends, but he knows how fascinated his girlfriend gets by animals. “Reggie…look at the cat!” She points towards a tabby orange cat.

“Darling.. you have me! Why do you need another of me?” He pouts, referencing his animagus form, a black cat with steely grey eyes. She chuckles at his oddly jealous stare. “Come on, what are we getting them?” She's curious as to what he has in mind.

He pulls her to the snake pit, pointing at a beautiful black snake. “Behold, the Elaphe obsoleta.. Evan always wanted a snake” Regulus gently picks up the slithering snake, the black bodice wraps herself on his arm, coiling around him.

His girlfriend hums contently, agreeing on his choice. Walking to the counter, the lady packs the snake away safely, providing a small container of snake feed for them. They walk out with the gift, grabbing ice cream before flooing back. 

—♡—

“Reggie, darling? Can you tie the strap of my dress?” She calls out to him from the bedroom, voice strained as she struggles to do the bow at the back. Regulus pops into the room, fingers coiling his waves with his favourite curl cream. 

He washes his hands in the bathroom quickly, drying them so he doesn't get any cream on her dress. Brushing his nimble hands across her back, sending shivers down her spine. “Behave,” she turns her head into his neck, laying a gentle kiss. He quits his teasing, finally doing up her bow.

He turns her around, gazing at her like a piece of art hung up in a museum, stars painted with precision on the night sky adorned by him, the moon which watches the stars.

Tucking his matching emerald green pocket square, she fans it out elegantly, fixing collar. “Are you going to wear your jewellery? I like the silver chain you put on your trousers.” He chuckles, grabbing the chain from a bowl of his jewellery, clicking it into place.

“Should I wear silver or gold? You're wearing silver, I should wear silver too.. Barty would throw a fit if I wore gold again too!” She grazes her fingers over his beautiful silver rings, stopping at a special one, engraved with the Black family crest.

“Your parents will be there, are you sure you still want to go..? We can always retire for the night, feigning ill,” she holds his hands, wanting to comfort him. Regulus puts on a brave face, tightening his hold on her hands and smiling, “I'll be okay. Knowing Evan and Barty, they'll probably take us away into the forest halfway through.”

She pulls away, touching up her makeup while Regulus grabs the gift, the beautiful Elaphe obsoleta. His girlfriend fixes the little curl on his forehead, then grabs a silver clutch to match with her jewellery and shoes. “Ready?” She grabs onto him, responding, “Ready.”

He apperates them a small distance from the manor, wanting to calm his own emotions before arriving. Sensing this, his girlfriend interlocks their hands, swinging them as they walk. “D'you know what? I think Pandora invited Dorcas, we surely haven't seen Dorcas in a while.. Should invite everyone over soon before we leave for Italy!”

“Oh really? You'd want to house all the Slytherin Skittles and the Marauders in one small cottage in Wales? How'd you think that's going to end up, love?” He snickers, swinging his hand in hers.

They approach the Rosier Manor, knocking on the huge gothic doors, probably built during the Victorian era. They are greeted by a house elf, small and malnourished, terribly afraid by the sheer amount of Pureblood presence in attendance.

She welcomes them in, bringing them to the living room with all the other guests. The couple goes to greet the hosts, Pierre and Seraphina Rosier. “Darling! It is so good to see you, how has it been in Wales?” Seraphina greets the girl, kissing her cheeks and giving her a hug. 

“We have been wonderful, Lady Rosier.. Thank you for having us! Goodness the manor looks gorgeous, who decorated?” The girls go off, chit chatting about little pieces of art in the house, leaving Regulus to greet Lord Rosier.

“I assume Evan invited you? Do try to keep yourself straight tonight, I'd hate for your poor girlfriend to be embarrassed by you.” Lord Rosier snarks to the boy, clearly being influenced by Orion and Walburga. Though he seems to have no issue with his date, being that their families are extremely close.

Regulus thanks him for the ‘advice’, walking off to find Evan and Barty to deliver their gift. “Regulus! There you are, you sod! Beginning to think you weren't coming. Poor Barty was sulking! Come in- where's treasure?” Evan pulls him into his room, wondering where his girlfriend was.

“Well ‘treasure’ got locked with your mum looking at a lamp, and I got dunked on by your father!” Regulus sits on the bed next to Barty, holding his head in his hands. “Oh come on, you know how weird my father is with yours,” Evan remarks. 

“Hey! Awe- where's treasure??” Barty pouts, looking at the door, hoping Regulus’ girlfriend will walk through. “Your boyfriend's mum.” He says, very deadpanned and tired. 

“We brought you a gift.. thought you guys might enjoy it,” Regulus hands off the carrier to Barty, encouraging them to open it. Barty lets out a literal squeal while Evan slowly takes it out.

“Is that a.. are you really gifting us a snake..? That's the most romantic thing you've ever done for us!” Barty teases, faking tears in his eyes. Regulus rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue, secretly enjoying his friend's antics.

In the midst of all of this, someone raps on the door. “Treasure!” Barty jumps onto her like a flying squirrel, giving her a big hug. “Barty! Barty please! I can't breathe,” she tries to escape from his grasps. “Oi Junior! Get your hands off my girlfriend!”

Regulus has to pry him off of the poor girl, being reminded of their years at Hogwarts, looking back at all of the adventures and hardships, now finally feeling like he fit the last piece of a puzzle into his life.

[nescaveckwriter]

Don't Leave Me

Dean Winchester x Reader 🐞

Summary: Dean, did the unthinkable, and cheated on you, on your anniversary.

A/N: Oh yay, I'm so excited, not only my first one shot, but also my first one done for the bingo @jacklesversebingo 🐞❤️💕 I'm just so excited to hear what y'all think. Much love my bugsies 🐞

Line: I don't really hate you, but I hate what you have done to us!

Warnings: Angst, A Lot of Angst! 🤔 Sorry about that😱

Word Count: Honestly no idea😱 will check next time🤩

Cover Art: Done by me 🐞 and the pic's from Pinterest and Canva 💕

Characters: Dean Winchester, Mention of Sam, and you❤️

"No Dean" I screamed, tears streaming down my cheeks.

"You don't get to look at me like that" I sniffed

"How could you do this to us?" Anger and sadness visible on my face

"Baby Listen" his voice low

With my hands on his muscular chest I shove him backwards, screaming now, "I don't need too listen, dammit, nothing you say is going to change a thing"

His emerald green eyes, is welled up, "just listen please" barely audible

"I hate you Dean" I say while throwing the ring on the floor

Taking a suitcase from the closet, tossing in any clothes I can find.

"You're leaving babe?" the distraught look on his face, caught you off guard

"Don't look at me like that, its your fault" you shove him out of the way walking to the bathroom to grab your toiletries.

He grabs ahold of your arm, spinning you around, and into his chest, "let me go," making my hands into small fist's, hitting against him, though it's not really doing anything.

His eyes pleading "sweetheart, please just listen to me, it didn't mean anything"

Squinting your eyes, "it didn't mean anything? Don't lie to me, Dean"

"I'm sorry" he claimed

"Yeah, your sorry I found out" I sneered

His jaw clenches, "no, babe, I'm serious it didn't mean a damn thing"

"Great so you threw all of this away for nothing" I smirked

"I was drunk okay! I didn't know what I were doing" his face full of guilt

Laughing a little "that's a lame excuse if I ever heard one"

You can't stand to be this close to him, hearing his heart beating, the way he looks into your eyes, the way his arms is holding you, you always were so weak when it came to him, it always were like some sort of special gift he had, making you putty in his big hands. But not today, not know, not after what he's done.

Trying to get out of his tight grip, you try to shove him backwards again, but he just holds you tightly, his voice revealing the sadness "do you really hate me"

Searching his face, his emerald green eyes, now, almost hazel like. Your voice brittle, tears streaming down my face "No, I... I don't really hate you, but I hate what you have done to us"

He thumbs away some of the tears, letting out a whisper, "I'm so sorry sweetheart"

"Sorry, just sorry, it won't work" you whisper - scream

"Then what will, baby" he asks

"I don't know,! nothing! The day you slid that ring on my finger, you swore you'll never betray me, break my trust, or trash my heart, guess what you did" getting angry all over again now "how could you" and with that you get out of his grip

Realising what he did, he just stood there, not making a sound, just listening to the sound of her crying, crying he caused. "Dammit" he cursed underneath his breath.

Taking her suitcase she walks out of their shared room, right to the door, glancing over the house she called home for the past five years, the memories they shared, the laughter, it's all gone now, in one night, he managed to erase five years of their lives together.

Dean runs towards her, "Baby wait, just stay, it's 3 in the morning, you can't drive like this" concern in his husky voice.

Glaring at him, "don't act like you care, if you did, you would have known, what yesterday was"

Dean, looks at her puzzled, following her eyes to the kitchen, he's jaw dropped when he saw the kitchen table, set and decorated for two, candles, placed with champagne flutes, and a bottle that was supposed to be on ice, a freshly baked pie in the middle.

"Babe, I'm"

"Don't finish that sentence, I'm so sick and tired of your sorries," I warned.

"I can't believe I was so naive, yesterday when you didn't show, I called Sam, he said as far as he knew you went for a drink, the case you worked on hit you hard, I was afraid you had to much to drink, and maybe gotten in a accident, but to my surprise, I found you with that... that, woman, her arms wrapped around you having a good time, how the hell could you do that to us, to me?" I screamed

"Babe, it meant nothing, I love you"

Tears flooded down my cheeks "no! Dean! You do not love me" you mumbled, "goodbye Dean"

"Please baby, don't go, don't leave me" he pleaded

He grabs a hold of your wrist, but you shake it loose, almost running towards your car, hearing him say something in the distance, but you reply with a shout "don't you follow me Dean Winchester" and with that you started the engine, put it in drive and drove off

In your rearview mirror, you see the man you loved, still love, standing there distraught look on his face, the blurriness of your glazed up eyes, makes it hard to focus on the road ahead, but you just drove further anyway, not wanting to stay there, the way he made you feel, the hurt, pain and betrayal is just to much.

Seeing taillights of her car, is just one too much, how is he going to fix this, why did he do what he did, "what am I gonna do" throwing a punch in the air.

He just stood there in the pouring rain, watching as the love of his life, went further and further out of his reach.

That's when he heard the tires screeching on the wet road, and then the heart wrecking loud noise, he just some how knew it was her. He ran, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him.

"Noooooo!" Screaming as he got closer, her car hanging over the road barrier, "Baby," he grabs ahold of her hand, her face bloodied, her legs pinned, her eyes, bloodshot from the crying, "Dean" she whispers with pain. "I'm here sweetheart, don't leave me, I love you" a half smile on his plum lips. With the closing of her eyes she whispers "I love you too Dean"

[diacripticcomplex]

[This is probably the only light hearted story I will ever do, obviously this is not a smut, just light hearted vibes]

Yui’s POV:

My first day as a private teacher in a wealthy academy, I was honestly so shocked that I even got this job but nonetheless I am grateful. When I was younger I always thought I would become a nun, growing up in a church I thought it was the most suited path for me, but one day my father and the rest of the Church elders granted me with an opportunity, to teach a bunch of young children in a private academy, my room and board would be taken care of and it was a well paying job, I did not care much for money but I did like helping charities with the money I already have so this would help me in that aspect.

It was the first day I spent the last 2 weeks decorating the classroom. These children are all around the ages of 9-12. They were very young, I hope to teach them kindness and compassion, I remember when I was first given this class, the neighboring teachers made remarks about the incoming students saying they were all rich, evil, selfish demons. I hope that is not the case, but even if it is, they're just kids they can easily be taught something new and unlearn wrong.

I was on a little chair, putting up a banner. It might be somewhat cheesy but I thought it was adorable. "Ha! What a lameeee banner." a childish voice shrieked mockingly. I turned my head slightly and saw a boy, he had spiky red hair at its ends, he had lively green eyes that look just like a cat's eyes, they were adorable but he already seemed like a nightmare. "Are you a student in this class?" I ask him to try to redirect his comment. "Yep, I'm the great Ayato Sakamaki!" he said, his confidence through the roof, his energy was up there but refreshing. Sakamaki, looking at the attendance I noticed there were quite a few Sakamaki boys in this class, perhaps they were all related? "Ayato, do you have any siblings?" I asked him, he nodded, then started to name them all whilst counting with his fingers. "Kanato, Laito, Shu, and Reiji..oh and Subaru but I haven't met him yet." he explained, which confused me, he has a brother who he hasn't met yet..? "Woah~ Look at this class Kanato, it's nice and colorful and we have such a cute teacher, hello Teacher." Two boys entered the classroom, the one with emerald green cat-like eyes spoke. I smile warmly at the boys. "What are your names?"I asked them, looking towards the boy with the purple hair more, he had an interesting safety teddy bear, it was so cute. The boy with emerald green eyes spoke however in his stead. "I am Laito and this is my brother Kanato, oh I see you already met Ayato, we are all triplets." Laito states, I keep these things noted, just in case it was a part of my training. "Can I sit already?" Kanato asks, I smile and nod at him. "Yes of course, find the seat with your name on it." All 3 of them go to their assigned seats. I feel bad they were all so far apart from each other but they will be able to hang out during lunch break.

"Subaru, this is the classroom." I heard some way say with such a formal tone his voice when I looked at him was just a kid, he had raven hair and glasses, next to him was a shorter boy with pale skin and hair, eyes red like blood, and a taller blonde boy who looked like a prince. The boy with glasses looked right at me and bowed his head slightly. "Ahh that's not needed, please find your assigned seats." I told them and I noticed the raven haired boy went to the seat of Reiji, he sat right next to Ayato. They did not look alike at all but they had the same last name and Ayato did say these were his siblings. The seats of Subaru and Shu were sat in as well, they were right next to each other. “Ayato, these are all of your brothers?” I asked him, he nodded. “I guess so, you must be Subaru, what’s up?” He shouted from across the room. Subaru looked at him and his cheeks flushed slightly then he looked away, I still didn’t understand why he said it like that. “Um Ayato, I’m confused how come you never met Subaru…even though you are brothers?” I asked him. But before he could speak the blonde prince looking boy named Shu spoke “you clearly never heard of half siblings..dimwit” he said harshly, woah kids really can say crude things sometimes.

A few more boys came in, 4 came in at the same time they clung to each other. “We’re the Mukami siblings, nice to meet ya teacher~” a spunky blonde haired boy exclaimed. I liked his enthusiasm. “Please take your assigned name seat” I tell them in a welcoming tone and they do do. It was an interesting dynamic. Reiji, Ayato and the boy Ruki said in a desk row together, Shu, Subaru, and a boy named Yuma all sat together, Kanato sat next to Azusa, he had strange marks on him I hope everything is okay at home… and Laito and Kou sat together. Supposedly there was supposed to be 3 more students perhaps they were lost..? When I started to lose hope, 3 boys came in one had long white hair and the other short spiky strawberry blonde they both had similar eyes, they must be brothers, and the boy without a last name Kino, he refused to sit in his assigned seat.

“Welcome students my name is Ms. Komori, I will be your teacher for the year, it’s a pleasure to meet you all.” I say warmly. The silence was killer…”hm let’s start with an ice breaker, everyone say their name and something they like to do, I’ll start my name is Ms. Komori and I like to read.” I say, causing some of them to scoff and snicker. “How lame, I’ll go now! My name is Ayato and I like to win cause’ I’m the best at everything!” He says, I couldn’t help but notice this kid has some serious narcissistic tendencies. The next boy went “My name is Sakamaki Reiji and I enjoy reading as well, but I prefer to conduct experiments.” He states, well he will definitely like the science projects I have planned then. “I’m Mukami Ruki, I like reading as well.” He says briefly, I noticed him holding a book. “Oh what book is that?” I asked him, he looked dead at me and said it wasn’t my business…okay then.

“Laito here, pleasure to meet you Miss Bitch, my favorite thing is to watch girls change” when he said that my eye twitched a little, he’s like 10 years old saying things like that…what on earth is wrong with this child..? “I’m Kou, I like to dance” he says, I smiled at him. I think Kou would like the talent show aspect I have planned for the future. “Azusa…I like pain…” the next boy said. “Okay I think we have to talk about this briefly, you shouldn’t like pain it is not a good thing” I tell him, he looks at me confused.

“Alright kids, ice breaker is over, don’t be upset I’m sure we will all get to know more about each other, for now I want to focus on this lesson. You all need to understand that pain is never a good thing, in life we must do good things to make other people feel happy and comfortable, hurting ourselves does damage both in the heart and the mind.” I say and point to both my heart and mind. “Father didn’t tell us our new teacher was a simpleton human…” Reiji said to Ayato, causing all the boys to snicker. These kids really are something else….

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Six

Master List of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: I want to thank everyone for their patience with these updates every two weeks. This schedule works out perfectly for me, and I don't have to disappoint anyone with delays! I've gotten a couple questions regarding everyone's age for this story which I figured would happen. I kept the ages of everyone vague on purpose. Aegon is between 14-17, Aemond is 11-14, Halaena is 9-11, and the reader is 10-14. No matter what age you pick, they're all still minors. I hope that helped a bit!

Chapter Warnings: Traditional Targaryen family dinner, canon typical violence.

You had a sense of Deja Vu before the wide entrance of the dining hall, only this time, you were not alone. Next to you was your supposed father. You chewed on your lip nervously, pulling the thin scab that covered your marks from earlier.

So many things were left unanswered you had no idea where to begin. Were you truly his daughter?

Your mother was a prostitute; how could he be sure? How did he not know she was pregnant? That is not an easy thing to hide. How many brothers and sisters did you potentially have, was Daemon the monster Ma believed him to be, and who was watching you now, ready to report back to her?

"This is unnerving," you decided to say, not brave enough to voice your questions yet. He snorted, his eyebrows raising for a moment before he shifted his weight and took your arm in his.

"It is unnecessary, but is that not all customs to those unaware?" You mimicked his expressions but turned your gaze down, retaking your lip between your teeth. "Stop that," he chided as a father would, and you obeyed. You couldn't help it; the feeling came as an instinct.

Two guards opened the doors, and another from inside the dining room announced your presence to the family sitting at the great table. As you walked arm-in-arm with Daemon, you became even more ridged than the crown's sworn protectors.

Six sets of brown and violet eyes turned your way. An urge to channel your anxiety overcame you, but you stopped, remembering your father's -Prince Daemon's- words. You squeezed his thick black sleeve instead, and he glanced down at you, his eyes the same as the others.

Aegon was the first to stand in your presence, almost making your blank expression change, the other five soon following. No longer was his short platinum hair stringy, curls sticking to one another, but were clean, nearly a shade lighter with all the dirt gone. His rags had changed into a dark, emerald green tunic, a golden chain decorated with the same colored gems, and the sigil of House Targaryen embroidered on the chest.

Now that the alcohol had wholly left your system, heat filled your limbs, realizing just how handsome he was. His pouted lips stained a light red from wine, and he had a lively pale face with clear eyes. You were still upset with him. This was all his fault. You could have avoided this if he had kept to himself and gone straight to Madam's brothel instead of stealing you away.

As you and Daemon approached the table, you saw Aegon move from his seat, nearly sprinting to an empty one as he pulled it out. You looked to your father -Daemon- questioning whether or not you should accept Aegon's chivalry. He did not indicate what you should do, so you did the only thing you could do in that situation. Take Aegon's hand.

He kissed the top of it, his violet orbs boring into your slightly panicked ones as a grin graced his lips, helping you into your seat. Though Aegon wanted to sit next to you, he thought better of it, returning to the spot next to his sister wife as he took a swig of his drink.

Everyone sat tense. An older woman around Lyra's age with chestnut brown hair stared at you, her gaze like ice, trying to wither away a fresh sprout of spring crops with a layer of frost. Queen Alicent, you realized, the dark green gown and seven-pointed star giving her identity as if she said it herself. It looked as if she hated you simply for being in her presence.

You should have bowed and scolded yourself for not, your eyes wide as the anxiety bubbled into your mouth. You ignored Daemon's earlier warning as you tugged at the loose skin on your lip.

"Prince Daemon," the young Queen spoke, finally breaking her stare from you. "How pleased am I to have heard the news of your arrival. I had presumed you, the Princess Rhaenyra, and her sons would travel together, not one to stray far from your nest."

You looked at Daemon, worried and confused, your gaze traveling between them. The hostility and passive aggressiveness were as plain as the soup the servants brought out, quietly placing the bowl in front of you.

"I saw no need for the Princess to travel in her condition. As you know, pregnancy is such a precarious condition." Daemon did not react to the hidden animosity behind her words, answering as if he was talking about the weather.

The Queen hummed, nodding and pursing her lips as she gathered some soup on her silver spoon. You did the same, imitating her actions so as not to cause more attention to yourself. You have dressed the part of a royal but felt anything like it, accidentally slurping the broth from your spoon.

Muffled laughter came from the left of you, your eyes pausing on the empty seat between Queen Alicent and a man that shared her looks. Aegon was leaning back in his chair with a chalice of wine in his hand. She gave her son a glare opening her mouth before the large dining hall doors did the same.

"King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name," a guard announced, his accent prominent as everyone rose from the table."King of the Andals, the Roynar, and The First of Men."

Four men carried the King on a decorative chair, leaning slightly on his ivory cane and dressed in a magnificent pile of red, gold, and black robes, a small wound on his face. Everyone was staring, their faces somber with a hint of disgust and pity. It almost felt disrespectful to gaze upon a man who held the Seven Kingdoms in his now frail hand, a man who sat upon the Iron Throne, a seat stained with blood and ash. You looked everywhere but him.

The men carried him straight to you, sitting his makeshift throne on the stone floor with a thud. Your gaze was downcast out of fear and respect for this man's position.

"My child," he rasped, his chest heaving with the effort it took to speak, "look at me."

"Come," he ordered, and you stepped closer, a servant to the King. The shadows of the candlelight danced on your skin, hiding your face. He stared into your eyes, his gaze searching for something. His expression was like a maester studying an object from old Valyria, looking at the hidden story behind every crack and dent.

Alicent glanced at a man dressed in the Kingsguard armor, his hair as black as coal, sharing a questioning but frustrated look. Aegon stood like the well-behaved Prince his mother wanted him to be, hands clasped at the front, attempting to hide an ever-growing grin.

How fun this is, he thought, swaying his body like a child waiting for sweets. He finally found something his mother loathed more than him, a kinship forming in his heart. It made him want you more-- made him want to take you to the full-length window in his room and fuck you for all King's Landing to see. It would be you and him, he realized, you and him for the end of time.

"How it gladens me to finally meet my brothers first born," the King said, shocking everyone in the room as he softly stroked your cheek.

Alicent could not hide her scowl from her father, crossing her arms and looking away. Though Rhaena and Baela were not there, she felt pity for them. Prince Aemond, silent for this interaction, quietly scoffed, not enough for his old father to hear but for his young mother to scold him.

"You are a dragon now." King Viserys wanted to say more, mumbling about how he forgot his words as you looked at Daemon warily.

You didn't trust this. Everything was going too smoothly. Even being raised as part of the small folk, you knew it was not customary to give bastards the same position as a trueborn child, especially when it involved the Iron Throne. Perhaps the time had softened the man, no longer a firm believer in tradition. Rhaenyra remained the heir even after Prince Aegon was born, sure to confirm it. King Viserys just wanted a family bound by love for one another.

Unease was all you could feel as you curtsied, imagining what the women at court would look like as Viserys tapped his cane on the ground, signaling his guards for his next destination between the Hand and his wife.

You returned to your seat Prince Daemon nodding once to assure that you did well, a light graze crossing your lower back in comfort.

No eyes were on the King as he told everyone to be seated well into the meal's first course. You couldn't bring yourself to look at anyone, focused on the new plate in front of you and shakily picking up your fork. A male servant topped off the drink you had yet to touch. Its beautifully designed engravings were too precious for your flea-ridden hands.

One stare you could sense above the rest, assuming it was Aegon, you glanced up only to find him throwing back his fifth goblet of wine. It was the other Prince, recognizing his long snowy hair and leather eyepatch as the boy who ran out of Madam's brothel in tears. The same boy who pushed you to the sandstone ground and called you a whore. You knew he remembered you also, twirling a table knife with his nimble fingers, the silver glinting in the candlelight.

You returned his stare, the intensity of a dragon's flame searing into him as he, too, received a plate in front of him. It was a silent battle of wills, waiting for one to inevitably fault and the other to reign victorious. You knew not why Prince Aemond seemed to hate you so. Perhaps catching him in such a weakened state of vulnerability was why, but you saw the same emotions in the Queen. Maybe it was simply because his mother disliked you.

"I am very much excited to have another woman in the family," the small blonde-haired girl said next to you. She looked much younger than you, her purple eyes soft as she smiled kindly.

It was you who lost the battle, giving the Princess your attention as she spoke to you with such sweet words. "I am afraid there are too many boys running around in this castle, and it has become very isolating."

She twirled her thumbs. You noted that nervous habits seemingly run within the family as you searched for a piece of skin on your lips.

"Nobody wants to play with me," she whispered, ensuring her family did not overhear her complaints. "Aegon calls be strange, and Aemond focuses on his studies, but you will play with me? Will you not?"

You felt pity for her, a frown forming slightly in sympathy as you agreed.

"Of course, Your Grace," you nodded, and she smiled brightly.

"Please, you must call me Halaena. We are family now." She grabbed your hands, intertwining them with yours as she lifted them with glee, happy to finally have a friend.

Yes, she had her bugs, the tiny creatures that crawled on her arms as she giggled with delight, speaking to them as if they were human, but they never talked back. She was glad to find something that would finally. You could share her love of the creatures.

The screech of wood against stone echoed in the dim room, the King standing with new confidence as he looked upon his family. He was not blind to the hatred among his kin, but his heart led him, wanting them to love one another as a family bound by fire and blood.

"It lifts this old mans spirits," he began, staring at the children in front of him, "to see my House united. Seeing them sit next to one another as a family should. Bound by their duty for each other." Viserys picked up his goblet, splashing some red drink over the rim with his shaking grip. "Let us drain our cups in honor of House Targaryen's power. The most Dragonriders Westeros has ever seen! And the coming legitimization of Prince Daemon's first born! " He looked over to you, "Perhaps, in some time, young one, you too will know what it is to saddle the beast and claim the skies."

He raised his drink higher, toasting to your future. A future you had not known possible until now. You mimicked his action, as did everyone else, ignoring the burning of your mouth as you downed your wine.

Prince Aemond was red with fury, balling his free hand into a fist, nails biting crescents into his palm. He had never gotten such uplifting words while struggling to claim a dragon. He was the forgotten second son of the King, not good enough even to be a spare, yet this... bastard was receiving the attention he had longed for since he was a small child. Aegon's seemingly glad demeanor only served to worsen his anger.

They had not been close as young children. Aegon constantly taunted him for not having a dragon, even going so far as to give him a pig with the help of his nephews. But ever since that fateful night in Driftmark, the night where Aemond claimed the most enormous dragon in history and had his eye taken as penance. Their father had done nothing to rectify the situation, going as far as to have Aemond threaten to be questioned about where he heard the rumor that ended in losing an eye. 

Since then, it was an unspoken agreement between the brothers always to have each other's back. For Aegon to stand in Aemond's blind spot and for him to always look out for his brother after one too many Arbor Reds. They still did not get along wholly. He was unhappy with how Aegon decided to conduct his daily life as the unspoken heir to the Iron Throne, and Aegon forever wondered how far precisely the stick went up his younger brother's ass.

Daemon's hand patted your knee, reassuring you without needing to be asked. You had not expected a man with the title of "The Rogue Prince" to be so... fatherly, and you could not help but lean into his comfort, smiling at him gratefully.

The feast was finally in full swing, well on its way into the fourth course and waiting for the main to be brought out. A small band played in the corner, the string instruments creating a lively but elegant tune as you swayed to the music slightly. Everyone at the table was tense except for you, your father, and the King; he was too old to be fully aware. If this were how all royal feasts were, you would dread them for the rest of your life.

A hand on your arm stole you from your thoughts, fully expecting it to be Aegon coming to badger you, but saw the dainty fingers of a girl. Halaena was staring at you with a bright smile on her peony lips, asking you for a dance.

You blushed, shying away from her invitation. "I am afraid I do not know how, Princess," you said bashfully. She smiled wider, tilting her head as if she was sharing a secret.

"Do not worry. I don't have much of a knack for it either, but we will be the only two that know, yes?" Halaena looked at you expectantly, holding out the palm of your hand as you stared.

"I suppose so," you grinned, taking the invitation as she whisked you to the open floor.

Neither of you cared about the judgmental looks from the Queen and Prince Aemond, jumping to the upbeat music in no particular order, linking your arms as you skipped together.

It was beautiful to act like your age again, forgetting about the impending future of responsibility that came with being a royal and just having fun. Yes, you were a commoner, but you were never allowed to experience the Festival of the Mother or a celebration of the Harvest Moon. Now, you knew why, but then you saw it as a stupid act of authority by Ma.

You grabbed Halaena's tiny hands, doing a push-and-pull movement while spinning in a circle, your hair loosening from its pinned style. You both made up your choreography on impulse, not worried if it went with the music.

You continued spinning her, laughing as the tempo sped up. Her long golden blonde hair whipped in the air, creating an ethereal look matching her blue dress. Her purple irises sparkled with delight, crinkling with laughter, and she stumbled backward. Halaena stood, dusting off her gown as she returned to you but was cut off by an uninvited, but welcomed participant on Halaena's part.

Prince Aemond stood a few centimeters shorter than you. His hands clasped tightly around his back.

"My apologies for the intrusion," he said to his sweet sister, Halaena blushing and shying away.

"No apologies needed, dear brother," she giggled, "I meant to get a drink." She smiled as she brushed a long strand of golden hair behind her ear, stealing one last dance at her older brother.

You bit your lip, not out of anxiety but from the peculiar interaction between brother and sister. You seemed to be missing something.

"May I have this dance, my lady," he said stiffly, the title forcing its way out of his mouth.

"The song has hardly ended, Your Grace, perhaps the next one," you declined, beginning to take your place next to Daemon, but Prince Aemond grabbed your arm, forcing you to stop.

"I know you have no inclination of manners here in the royal court, seeing as you were raised by..." he trailed off, looking you up and down with distaste, "those of smaller status, I will not take your rejection as insult."

You stared at him, astonished. His words were so proper and sounded so respectful, but they made you feel little, so... small.

"I will ask you again, my lady. Will you dance with me?"

You couldn't refuse, taking his outstretched hand as he led you in dance. You didn't say a word, concentrating on not tripping and keeping up with Prince Aemond's pace.

King Viserys looked on with glee, smiling with his missing teeth as his family danced together. This could be a stepping stone, he thought, to the end of the intermittent squabbling Rhaenyra's children and his own had. If they could extend the olive branch to a bastard of Daemon's, why couldn't they with their true-born kin?

The dance was going smoothly, neither of you talking, serving to your advantage. You knew this was a bad idea to accept Princess Halaena's offer to dance, but now you were interlocked with the One-Eyed Prince, following his move to jump and clap as you switched directions, accidentally landing on his foot.

"Oh, Gods! I am so sorry, my Prince; I did not mean to!" You began, ready to offer a thousand apologies for your misstep, as you saw Aemond's lips purse.

"I am sure it is quite alright." Prince Aegon appeared at your side, wrapping his arm around your hips in a protective manner. "Isn't it, brother?" Aegon practically told his younger brother.

"Of course it is," he said softly.

You glanced at Aegon with discomfort, then back to Aemond, seeing his once pink face shadowed with disappointment and anger as Aegon waved him off. He looked at you with an unreadable expression on his boyish face. He bowed, not making eye contact as he returned to his seat.

It upset Prince Aemond that his dance was cut short. He wanted to spit out all the vile insults he couldn't say to his nephews, but when he saw your nervous face and smelled the calming aroma of your bath oils, he could not find the right words. You were helpless, a mouse cornered by the pursuing tom cat. It simply would not be fair to squash you.

Prince Aemond prided himself on being better than his brother. The son, who studied history and philosophy, kept up on the battle in the Step Stones and was the cupbearer during the council meetings. The throwaway second son, cowering in the first son's shadow.

"May I have this dance, my lady?" Aegon asked, bending at the waist and extending his hand.

You took a breath and steadied yourself, your skin flushed with a light sheen of sweat as you pushed your hair back. You peered past Aegon's shoulder, Daemon's slightly turned figure watching you as a stag was placed on the long oak table. He nodded, and you took Aegon's invitation.

He lifted his arm in an "L" shape, telling you to do the same as you circled each other, the music now a darker sound, but the tempo still upbeat. He smiled. His expression hides a malicious intent, the knowledge of man's sins behind it.

"You look ravishing tonight, little one," he complimented. You quickly glanced at Daemon, ensuring he didn't hear the term of endearment.

"Do not call me that, Your Grace," you whispered pointedly, leaning closer to him. Aegon couldn't help himself as his eyes traveled down your neck, pausing at the necklace your father gifted you and how it complimented your sweat-coated skin.

"Awe, pretty girl, it is just a pet name for you. After all, we are family now," he jabbed, leading you into dance.

"I would hardly call ourselves family," you scoffed, concentrating on not tripping. "I have not been declared as such in the eyes of the Seven or the law. My birth is not yet legitimized." You knew this discussion was futile, like arguing with a child, but you couldn't help it as he continued to bait you.

"My, if only we had an event planned for that very thing," he snickered as you switched directions. Aegon was enjoying this dance, reminding him of the childhood games he played, teasing a donkey with a carrot as he spun you.

"Is this why you brought me here, Aegon? Because you knew I was a bastard?" He shrugged, lifting you by your hips to get you to stop talking. "Why you had me wasted on cups and..." You couldn't finish the sentence, your cheeks heating up from something other than exertion.

Aegon smirked, the candlelight shining on his wet teeth as he grabbed your wrist, pulling you to him with his arm around your waist. This was improper. You could tell from the soft screech of a chair as you saw Daemon give you his full attention, not yet standing but ready to pounce at any moment.

"Aegon," you said softly, your breath hitting his wine-stained lips. You couldn't think straight. He was too close, and you could smell the sweet Arbor Red on his breath. Your whole body became hot, a wave of heat that felt almost icy, rushing between your legs.

"My sweet girl," he whispered against your skin, and you melted, stopping his swaying as the music ended. You were sure it was the alcohol talking, but you didn't stop him. He grabbed your jaw, the dirt under his fingernails gone as they pierced your skin. "You are so kind and different from the rest of us," he confessed. "You feel different, taste different."

You were unsure what he meant by that, distracted as he leaned his forehead on yours, staring into your peculiar eyes. You didn't care how everything was silent nor how all conversation ended with your dance. It was just you and Aegon, the boy who had shown you all that Ma had sheltered you from. The body that made your pulse quicken and knees weak despite all the wrong he had done to you. You closed your eyes as Aegon did, breathing his air as your lips parted.

The sound of chairs screaming and falling to the stone floor made you flinch, pulling away slightly as your eyes opened. Aegon gripped your jaw harder and, in a split second, was pulled away from you, his nails scratching your skin.

Daemon was a fire of black and red, punching Aegon in the cheek as he grabbed his wool tunic and shoved him against a wall. Prince Aemond was up at the same time as your father, his strides significantly smaller and taking more time as he went to defend his brother.

"You believe you can treat my daughter as one of your whores? Dishonor your wife in such a blatant display," Prince Daemon seethed. The King shouted, but he ignored him, his fist clenching around Aegon's neck.

"She didn't seem to mind," Aegon quipped, a smile forming on his red face.

You stood frozen, unsure what to do, if you could do anything. This was why they called Daemon The Rogue Prince, strangling his kin. The violence had thrown you off center, never having seen anything like it. It was odd how pink Aegon's face became, a vein popping out of his forehead as Daemon squeezed his throat. A voice encouraging you to see it to the end.

Halaena whimpered, plugging her ears and turning away as she saw Aemond attempt to pull Daemon from her brother. Queen Alicent screamed at her personal guard, telling him to protect her son. The others took a moment too long before they went to Aegon's rescue. It seemed as if they did not want to, waiting for explicit instructions.

Alicent's guard unsheathed his sword, pointing it at Daemon's neck. Finally, did Daemon listen, removing his hands from the Prince and stepping away, shoving Aemond off him.

Aegon gasped for air, his ragged breaths breaking you from your trace as you hurried over to him, only to be stopped by your father. Everyone followed suit, questioning him.

"You will do well not to attempt to sully my daughter's honor again," Daemon spat, urging you toward the exit.

"What are you doing," Queen Alicent yelled from her place next to her child. "Seize him!"

The Kingsguard with hair as black as night went towards Daemon, his sword placed back into its scabbard.

"Enough," King Viserys shouted, everyone in the room turning to him. "You saw as well as I what Aegon did. The compromising position he put my niece in," he boomed, the weak King from earlier gone. "He dishonors his wife and her with his actions. My brother reacted fairly," he declared. "The matter is finished. We all must retire for the evening for a joyous celebration in coming with the fortnight."

The Queen had seen this situation years ago in Driftmark when Aemond had lost an eye. No repercussions were ever going to come of this, and Alicent's resentment for Rhaenyra grew, though she had nothing to do with this. Her anger was palpable as you gave Aegon one last look. He smiled, his eyes hooded as he made a funny face. You did your best not to giggle as your father rushed you through the dining hall doors. 

Master List of Series

Thank yooooou for reading! I always feel like I could add a bit more drama to this, but I don't want it to become distasteful. It's only up from here folks!

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Tagged Peeps: @zeennnnnnn, @malfoytargaryen, @targaryencore, @justasmallbean, @alexandra-001, @buckysmainhxe, @omgsuperstarg, @sommornyte, @silverslive, @unclecrunkle, @prettykinkysoul, @duesobabe, @djlexi, @ynbutbetter, @honestlykat, @graykageyama, @legolas017, @iiamthehybrid , @brezzybfan , @dd12004dd, @ladybug0095 , @millies0bsimp , @kalfilit, @sheislonelyalways , @tempt-ress, @bellameshipper , @minttea07 , @trikigirl271 , @esposadomd , @buckylahey , @justarandomflowerchildofthenight, @partypoison00 , @please-buckme , @pastelorangeskies , @joliettes , @existential-echo, @priyajoyy

[dudadrawings17]

Maleficent: I just hope these little goblins inside of me decide to be born very soon! I can't take this pregnancy any longer! Ursula: enjoy while you can, darling! After your babies are born, THEN you'll wish you'd still be pregnant! Cruella: at least you have Chernabog doing everything for you. Ursula: who would guess the Disney version of Satan would be such a soft papa, right? Maleficent: why, just because we have horns, like black and green colors, and we're both related to evil and Hell, we can't be good parents?? Wow, rude!

— x — x — x — x — x —

Frollo: you know... You remind me of someone... Gothel: oh yeah? Who? Frollo: your raven hair, your emerald eyes... Are you single, my dear? Gothel: I'm a single mother. Is that a problem to you. Frollo: not at all. I'm a single father too.

— x — x — x — x — x —

Cruella: say it again, darling! Clayton: I ~kill~ animals. Cruella: oooohh yeah, babe! What else? Clayton: I ~sell~ them for riches. Cruella: oooh you evil man! Clayton: now tell me, my darling. What animal you desire the most? A coat made of leopard fur? Shoes made of crocodile skin? An elephant head to decorate your living room? Say it, and I shall have whatever pleases you! Cruella: I want... A ~dalmatian~ coat! Clayton: ... Say what?

— x — x — x — x — x —

Silver: are you sure about this, James? Hook: about what, John? Silver: I don't know... It's the very first time we're leaving Pietra alone with mr. Smee... Hook: oh, don't worry, my dear. Smee knows he better take good care of our daughter if he doesn't want his ass to be kicked.

— x — x — x — x — x —

Jafar: (on the cellphone) Hades, where are you? Hades: I left earlier, Jaffar. I'm tired. Jafar: what?? Where are you going?? Hades: home. Jafar: are you kidding me?? Get your ass back here! You drunk too much! Hades: relax, will you? I took a cab! Jafar: WE WERE DRINKING IN YOUR HOME, YOU ANIMAL! Hades: ... Then where am I going??

[namixart]

Decor Harmony

Read on AO3!

Written for the @clerithweddingzine, which now has leftover sales open! Go grab yours! Thanks to everyone who contributed to and supported the zine--if you don't mind me speaking for everyone, we popped off.

And now, enjoy my contribution!

“I was thinking emerald green for the tablecloths.”

“Sounds good.”

“Or maybe forest green?”

“Sure.”

“Then again, a lighter shade might go better with the napkins. Mint, maybe?”

“Hm. Could work.”

“Oh, you know what? Neon. How ‘bout it?”

“I—What?” Cloud looked up from his notepad. “Neon? You serious?”

Aerith laughed. “No. But it’s nice to know you were listening.”

He frowned. “I’m always listening. I just think you can see way more shades of green than I can.” He poked at the scattered colour swatches on the table. “Half of these things look the same to me.”

She giggled again. She was lying on the—mint green?—couch upside down, with her back flat on the cushions and her legs up on the backrest. Cloud had always thought it couldn ’t possibly be a comfortable position, but he was more than used to coming into the living room to find Aerith reading, weaving flowers, or just resting like that. She lightly kicked her feet up. “Curious,” she said. “I thought SOLDIERs were supposed to have enhanced vision, or something.”

He shrugged. “Guess I’m a lousy one. ‘Specially since—well, you know.”

“I know.” She shot him an upside-down smile. “Love me a lousy SOLDIER.”

Cloud huffed out a laugh and picked his notepad back up. “So. Mint?”

“I’ll think more about it later. C’mere.” She reached out a hand from where she was lying, wiggling her fingers in the air until Cloud took pity on her and reached back, gripping it lightly. Instinctively, he found the thin silver band around her ring finger, feeling the delicate engraved flowers on it. But he preferred the engraving on the inside of the ring: You’re my Promised Land.

He ’d been more nervous about the engraving than the whole proposal thing—unreasonably so, considering who he ’d been proposing to, in hindsight. But, then again, she’d already said she’d marry him: he just needed to give her a proper romantic proposal after the impulsive disaster of his first one. He’d been afraid she’d find it cheesy, or maybe even creepy, but of course Aerith had just kissed him silly and hugged him tight to hide the watery sheen in her eyes. And then, not to be outdone, she’d presented him with his own ring a week later, featuring its own hidden engraving: I finally found you.

Aerith tugged on his hand. “Cloud, c’mere,” she repeated, a slight whine to her voice. Wordlessly, Cloud obliged, taking his notepad with him as he went to sit down next to her on the couch. With a contented hum, Aerith shifted around so that she was lying with her legs up on the armrest and her head in Cloud’s lap. “Hey,” she said, entwining their fingers together, “fiancé.”

He smiled. “Hey, yourself. Fiancée.” The word still left a strange sweet taste in his mouth. He never thought he’d be looking forward to getting married, but stranger things had happened around Aerith. Wherever she went, whoever she met, things and people changed for the better. He squeezed her hand lightly. “What’s up?”

She made to take his notepad. “Flowers. Lemme see what you came up with for the arrangements.”

Cloud held it out of her reach. “No way. I’m not done yet.”

“Aww, come on.” Aerith pouted playfully. “I wanna see how they’re coming along. I’m the florist here.”

He huffed. “And whose idea was it to put me in charge of this in the first place? Oh, right. The florist’s.”

“’Cause you have an eye for this! I trust you!”

“So let me do it right and make it a surprise.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “I bet you’re using a lot of the yellow flowers from the church.”

“Nope,” he lied.

Aerith giggled. “You can’t fool me, mister. Fine, keep your secrets if you wanna be mysterious about it. I know it’ll be great.” She placed a light kiss on the back of his hand, then held it tight to her chest. “Can you believe it’s only three months away?”

Cloud sighed. “I can’t believe it’s still three months away. ” Elmyra had insisted on a summer wedding, and Aerith had backed her up on the grounds that the flowers in the church would be in full bloom by then. If Cloud had had his way, he would’ve married her the minute he’d proposed—the first time, among the forms and documents and the leases, lamenting that all that bureaucracy would’ve been easier if they had one more measly piece of paper. But the longer process had its benefits too. It meant he got to savour the anticipation, to plan their big day together with Aerith, to see her run her fingers over her ring when she thought he wasn’t looking at her. But still. “I just wanna marry you,” he said, averting his gaze and feeling his face warm up a little. Some things never changed, even around Aerith.

“Aww, you big softie.” Aerith cupped his cheek to nudge him down to her level and press a quick kiss to his lips. “I just wanna marry you too,” she said.

Cloud hummed as he started to absentmindedly thread his fingers through her hair with the hand not holding hers. She closed her eyes with a sigh and a smile, and Cloud smiled as well.

“Do you think it’ll be a good day?” she asked quietly after a little bit. Cloud looked down at her: she was still smiling, and her tone was light.

He nodded. “The best. We’ll have flowers, music, and green tablecloths.” She giggled. “All our friends are gonna be there. You’ll look so beautiful, and I’ll try very hard not to cry.”

Aerith gave his hand a squeeze. “It’ll be alright if you do.”

“I know.”

She hummed. Then, suddenly, she pushed herself up. “Oh, right, that reminds me,” she said, scrambling to sit like a normal person. “A little birdie told me something.”

Cloud furrowed his brows. “Is the little birdie called Yuffie and should I strangle her for it?”

Aerith laughed. “The little birdie’s identity shall remain a secret.”

“So it is Yuffie.”

“Can neither confirm nor deny,” she said, raising her hands. “But anyway. This anonymous little birdie told me you’re planning a little musical surprise for the wedding.”

Cloud was going to strangle Yuffie.

A few days after they ’d announced their engagement, Cloud had gone to Elmyra with a simple request to make up for the fact that he hadn’t consulted her about asking her daughter to marry him: the name of the lullaby he caught her humming to herself every once in a while. That conversation had turned into a month-long hunt for the sheet music with the help of Tifa and Vincent, and that research had turned into Cloud sneaking out to the new Seventh Heaven whenever he could to practice it on the piano. Only for Yuffie to ruin it all.

Aerith shot him an apologetic smile when she saw his crestfallen expression. “I know, I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, our birdie didn’t mean to tell me, either. We were talking about the wedding and it slipped out, I think.”

“Still.” Cloud frowned. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Aerith reached out and gave his hand a light squeeze. “Well, I was surprised when Y—when the little birdie told me.”

He rolled his eyes. “You can stop doing that. I’m not gonna kill her. Probably. And it doesn’t matter, anyway. I didn ’t get to surprise you, she did. ”

Aerith giggled. “Jealous much, Cloud?”

“Kinda, yeah.” He huffed and she laughed again. “I can’t believe Yuffie of all people stole my thunder on my wedding day.”

“Well,” said Aerith, “if you think about it, she steals a lot of things. Thunders included, apparently.” She scooted closer to him and lightly threw her arm around his shoulders. “Besides, she didn’t steal it. She may have spoiled the surprise a little bit, but I’m still gonna get to hear you serenade me. At our wedding. In front of everyone. Including my mom.” She underlined each sentence with a gentle poke to his shoulder. “Aren’t you excited?”

Cloud chuckled and poked her shoulder right back. “Very. Stop trying to make me chicken out of it—that’s mean.” He furrowed his brows for a second as he felt the hand slung over his shoulder shift. “And stop trying to get my notepad.” He slipped it from right under her fingers and threw it on the table.

She whined a little in protest. “I could make a dive for it.”

“I’d catch you.”

“I could get Tifa to steal it for me.”

He laughed. “She wouldn’t. She’s sworn to secrecy.”

Aerith tutted. “Yes, but does secrecy trump Maid of Honour duties? I don’t think so! She’ll be game.”

He paused. “Wait, Maid of Honour?” She nodded triumphantly. “Just outta curiosity, when did you ask her?”

She waved a hand in the air. “We’re going out for lunch this Saturday—gonna ask her then.”

“Uh-huh. Wish I could be there for that conversation.”

“You know something I don’t, mister?” she asked, shooting him a quizzical look.

“Maybe. Wouldn’t wanna spoil the surprise, though. Well, anyway, gotta get back to—” He tried to get up from the couch, but Aerith pulled him back down next to her.

“Oh, come on! Don’t leave me hangin’ like that!” She climbed over him so she was straddling his lap to keep him in place, even though they both knew full well that he was more than capable of just picking her up and moving her. “C’mon, tell me!” She leaned close to him with a wide grin. “You tease.”

Cloud scoffed. “Look who’s talkin’.”

“Look who’s not.” She poked his side and he jumped a little despite his best efforts. Aerith raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“Don’t you dare,” he warned.

“Watch me.” She slowly laid her hands on his sides, which in any other context would’ve been a gesture of affection from his fiancée instead of the cold-blooded threat it was.

“Fine, fine,” he said, quickly taking her by the wrists and moving her hands far away from him. “Just warnin’ you, Tifa’s not gonna be your Maid of Honour.”

Aerith furrowed her brows. “And why’s that?”

He shrugged. “’Cause I called dibs.”

“What!?” Her eyes went wide. “Seriously?”

“Yep,” he said, popping the p. “Like… the day after I proposed. Went and asked her to be my Best Woman.” Called her panicking and begging for help was a more appropriate description, but Aerith didn’t need to hear that.

“Aww…” Aerith leaned back and crossed her arms. “That blows a hole in my plans.”

“It’s your own fault for leaving it until now, you know. You’ve had months.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “I’ve been busy! Couldn’t you have asked Barret? Or Nanaki?”

No, because I didn ’t call them in a lovesick panic. “I’m sure Nanaki would make a terrific Maid of Honour. Uh, Friend of Honour? Nanaki of Honour.”

Aerith laughed. “D’you think he’d be up for it?”

“For you? Yeah. Doubt there’s much anyone wouldn’t do for you.”

She giggled. “That’s sweet. And you?”

Cloud furrowed his brows. “What about me?”

“Would you do anything for me?” she asked, leaning closer to his face.

“Of course.” He let his hands slid down from her wrists to entwine their fingers together. “Anything.”

Aerith grinned. “Would you let me see the flowers?”

Cloud rolled his eyes as a laugh escaped him. “Not a chance in hell. You’ll see them at the wedding.”

She stuck her tongue out at him again, but she was smiling. “Can’t wait.”

“Me neither.”

Aerith was quiet for a moment as she leaned her forehead against his and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath. “I can’t wait,” she repeated. “I can’t believe I get to marry you.”

Cloud brushed a hand over her cheek, and she leaned into the touch with a sigh. “I can’t believe I get to marry you, ” he said, softly stroking the skin under her eye.

She hummed and pressed a kiss to his palm. “I love you,” she whispered, the words falling easily from her lips. They still made Cloud’s breath hitch. He didn’t think he’d ever get fully used to them, to it, to her. And he loved it. And her.

“Love you too,” he murmured. The words didn’t come as effortlessly to him, but the effort was worth it.

Aerith smiled and closed the distance between them with a light kiss. “So,” she said when she pulled away. “Mint green it is?”

Cloud peered into her eyes and pursed his lips. “You know,” he started, “it’s good. But it’s not my favourite colour.”

She giggled. “Mine either. I’d have to go with sky blue. But we’d have to rethink the whole theme.”

[rkfollower]

Garden

Kara Danvers had never been so distracted in her life.

The wedding ceremony had been beautiful—Alex and Kelly looked happier than ever, and Kara had felt her chest swell with pride for her sister. She was supposed to be focusing on the love in the air, the vows, the music, and the shared joy of everyone around her. But 90% of her attention? Well, that had been stolen the moment Lena Luthor walked in wearing that purple ensemble.

It wasn’t just the cut of the suit, though Kara couldn't deny how the plunging neckline had made her heartbeat quicken. It was the way Lena carried herself, confident and effortless, like she was completely at ease with the power she exuded. The rich purple fabric seemed to caress Lena’s skin, contrasting with her dark hair and those striking green eyes. Kara tried—really tried—to focus on anything else, but her gaze kept drifting back to Lena every chance it got.

She had caught Lena’s eye more than once during the ceremony. Each time, Kara quickly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in whatever was happening in front of her. But Lena’s presence felt magnetic, pulling her in no matter how hard she resisted.

By the time the reception rolled around, Kara was hopeless. She mingled, congratulated Alex and Kelly, made toasts, but it was all a blur. Lena's smirk from across the room? That was what lingered in her mind.

As the night wound down, Kara found herself searching for Lena. She wandered through the reception, not entirely sure what she was going to say, but knowing she needed to say something. When she couldn’t find Lena inside, she decided to check the garden, which had been decorated with soft lights and flowers, a peaceful retreat from the lively celebration.

Stepping outside, Kara spotted her.

Lena stood among the blooms, the purple ensemble catching the dim glow of the garden lights. The suit was elegant yet daring, and while it had been designed to make a statement, here, surrounded by the delicate flowers and greenery, Lena seemed perfectly at home. The plunging neckline, which had been a bold choice in the ballroom, now looked more like the petals of a flower unfolding under the soft glow of the night.

For a moment, Kara simply watched her. Lena's beauty was undeniable, but this—this was something else. There was a serenity to her, an ease that made Kara’s chest tighten. The flowers around her, pale pinks and whites, seemed to frame her like a painting, each petal and leaf enhancing the rich purple of her outfit. Despite the boldness of her clothing, Lena didn’t clash with the garden; she belonged in it, like she was another piece of the beauty that surrounded her.

Kara finally stepped closer, the gravel crunching softly under her shoes. Lena turned at the sound, her lips curving into a smile the moment she saw Kara.

“Looking for me?” Lena asked, her voice low and teasing, but there was something softer underneath.

Kara swallowed hard, struggling to find her voice. “Yeah… I was, actually.”

They stood there in silence for a moment, the cool night air brushing over them. Kara’s heart raced as she tried to organize her thoughts. The words that came out felt clumsy in her head, but she pushed forward anyway.

“You… you looked amazing tonight. I mean, you always look great, but tonight… wow.”

Lena’s smile widened, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Thanks. I thought I might have caught your attention once or twice.”

Kara’s face flushed, and she laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, I guess I wasn’t very subtle, huh?”

Lena stepped closer, her gaze locked onto Kara’s. “You weren’t. But I didn’t mind.”

There it was—that tension that always seemed to hum between them, electric and charged, but tonight it felt different. Stronger. Maybe it was the soft glow of the garden lights, or the way Lena’s eyes seemed to glimmer like emeralds in the dark. Maybe it was the way Kara’s heart had been beating for Lena all night long.

“You look perfect out here,” Kara found herself saying, her voice barely more than a whisper. “With all these flowers around you. It’s like… like you belong here.”

Lena’s expression softened, and for a moment, she looked almost vulnerable. “I’ve never felt like I belonged anywhere,” she admitted quietly, her eyes searching Kara’s face. “But here… with you, maybe I could.”

Kara’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected that, but now that the words were out there, it felt like everything she had been feeling all night—everything she had been feeling for months—was suddenly right at the surface, impossible to ignore.

She took another step closer, her hand reaching out to gently brush against Lena’s. “You do belong,” she said softly. “With me.”

Lena’s eyes widened slightly, and for a heartbeat, neither of them moved. Then, slowly, Lena’s fingers curled around Kara’s, her grip firm yet tender. The space between them disappeared as they stood together in the garden, the night blooming around them like a quiet promise.

Kara’s heart swelled with hope as she realized this was the beginning of something new, something she had wanted for so long but hadn’t known how to reach.

But now, standing there with Lena, hand in hand among the flowers, Kara knew they had finally found their way to each other.

And it was perfect.