#like i thought it might be in the plants again but it's not in the plants

[bonny-kookoo]

Yoongi

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Christmas

A deal is a deal.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Yoongi, Human!Reader, Unstable AU, set prior/during the Jungkook storyline, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, strangers to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, eventual smut

Wordcount: 900 Words

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Yoongi isn’t one for soft and warm gestures. There’s no point in them.

So why did he wake up way too early to get the stupid little pine tree from the markets, so he can put a very badly wrapped piece of dumb jewelry under that tree? Well, because it might make you happy.

And yoongi likes seeing you happy.

When he wakes you with a hand on your shoulder, you’re disoriented at first- a bit panicked even, unsure if something is wrong since he rarely wakes up before you- but then you see it.

There’s a thin string of neon lights probably meant for a different purpose than decoration wrapped around a very small pine tree- and somewhat next and under it, is a small box. It’s wrapped carefully, paper held together by a simple nylon string.

“..yoongi.” You look towards him, and he panicks a little. This isn’t the kind of look he was hoping for when planning this. God, why are humans so complicated? You look like you’re about to cry even, what did he do wrong?

And then, suddenly, you’re in his arms. Head buried into his shoulder, arms around him, and he can’t even move for a good second or two as he’s bombarded with both your scent and your warmth. Things he’s been thinking about- but that’s what it was. Thoughts.

“thank you.” You mumble into his neck, before you move towards the small plant on the table. “how- did you know about this?” You wonder. “human traditions aren’t really common anymore.”

“No, but information on them is freely available.” He says, trying to control his heart from beating too hard. “you’ve.. been down lately. Your mood has been terrible.” He tries to downplay his actions by attempting to blame it on simple convenience. “I saw it and remembered someone talking about a human holiday that makes people happy.” He shrugs.

“What is it?” You wonder as you pick up the small box wrapped in simple newspaper.

“open it.” He just tells you, unable to hide his amusement when you do so with the outmost care, cherishing his efforts.

‘Do not purr.’ He tells himself. ‘You’re not a goddam pet.’

You look at the chain you take out the velvet bag inside the box, and you’re confused at first. Yoongi notices rather quickly, walking closer to take it from you. “it’s made from Iastine Metal. Lasts longer and.. should be more comfortable than what you wear now.” He says as he points to your identification still around your neck. “it’s.. got your name and ID engraved on here. Can be scanned, too.” He mumbles as he shows you the small Metal tag- looking more decorative than only purposeful. The metal is silver, but with a warm touch, reflecting in multiple hues of purple and red when catching the light.

“it looks.. expensive.” You worry, but he just shrugs, before his hands move to take your collar off at the scan of his own ID chip in his wrist.

“Its an investment.” He tries to justify, before he moves the chain around your neck instead, closing it with an odd snap or crack that startles you a bit. “the connecting piece sparks with a chemical reaction to bind the two ends together on a molecular level.”

“..so I can’t loose it?” You joke, as he looks at your neck, words tumbling out before he can stop them.

“And I won’t loose you.” He says.

It’s quiet after that, and odd tension filling the room, one of his hands still near your neck. “was it.. alright that I hugged you?” You ask quietly.

“I didn’t push you away now, did I?” He responds.

“That’s not a proper answer.”

He stutters a bit at that, deep in thought before he speaks once more, hand leaving your close proximity.

“It was.” He reassures you.

“yoongi?” You ask again, and he sighs in fake annoyance. “now I feel bad. What can I gift you?” You ask him, and he stares you down for a moment, thinking of an answer.

“I just need you to promise me something.” He says, sitting on the edge of the bed with you next to him, patiently awaiting his request. “tell me if it hurts.”

“Huh?” You ask, unsure what he’s talking about.

“I’m still figuring out what.. you are to me. Or rather, what I want you to possibly be to me.” He explains further. “I know humans are emotionally vulnerable. I’m not very soft, I’m not good at navigating someone else’s emotions. So, tell me if what I’m doing hurts you.” He says.

“as long as what you do is done with.. honest intentions, it won’t hurt.” You tell him.

“What if I sleep with you then?” He boldly asks. “just to realize that’s not what I want after all?” He questions, and you shrug.

“Won’t hurt.” You respond. “because I know why you’re doing it. Just..” you drift off.

“just?” He asks.

“just don’t..” you sigh. “don’t say you love me until you’re really sure of it, okay?” You ask, and he nods.

“Deal.”

[perseephoneee]

winter ball [ficmas day 14] [kol mikaelson x f!reader] cinderella au

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ ficmas 2024

author's note: this is less wintery than i intended (whoops) but also this might be one of my favorite things I've ever written!!! i'm literally so hyped for it!!! p.s. thanks to charmed for all the spells lol

playlist:

once upon a dream -- lana del rey

that's so true -- gracie abrams

just like christmas -- low

The floor was ashy again. 

Your sisters were horrendous with maintaining the fireplace, and always left the place filthy. Of course, it fell on you to clean up. You always had the clean up. 

You were cleaning the apothecary, brushing up all the scattered herbs and dead things that your stepsisters would drag in under the guise of 'magic.' They had no magic of their own, you knew that. Your stepmother always indulged them, always. 

They never stayed long at work, though, always finding an excuse to go somewhere else. So it was just you in the shop. 

The bells rang above your door. 

You looked up to see Prince Kol walking into your store. You straighten up immediately, dipping into a curtsy. He waved you off. 

"No pleasantries, it's pretentious, and I hate it," he drawled. He was the youngest of his three brothers, commonly known as the wily one. Also known as the devilishly handsome one. Not that you thought about it. 

"Apologies, Your Highness," you murmured, head still bowed. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"According to my network, you're the best apothecary in the kingdom," Kol shoved his hands in his pockets, rifling around until he found what he was looking for. He planted a flower on the table. "I want your help identifying this."

You picked up the flower, twirling it between your fingers. It seemed like one of the common valley flowers, but the energy of it felt off. You touched some of the petals. 

"I'd have to consult my books; I don't recognize it immediately," you hummed. 

"I need it identified sooner rather than later, and I'll pay handsomely," Kol grinned. You looked up at him. His eyes regarded you, cooly, taking into thought every detail. You felt shivers down your spine. 

"May I ask the purpose of this project?" you inquired. 

"Secrets, darling," Kol put a finger to his lips. "This is also confidential; don't mention it to anyone."

"To whom would I mention it?" you muttered. You bit the inside of your cheek to stop any more comments. He smiled gleefully. "I'll check in tomorrow."

You watched him leave the way he came, a flurry of energy here and then gone. You sat down at the desk in the back, twirling the flower stem. No one was in the shop to witness you, so you flicked your fingers and brought several books over to your table. They flipped open to the pages you needed. You were too lazy to stand up and peruse the shelf, especially after your morning. You stayed camped over your desk until your stepmother and sisters got back. They whisked through the door like a tornado. 

"We must make an appointment with the modiste to prepare," your stepmother, Ms. Laurel, said. She glanced around the store as if it personally offended her and as if it wasn't the thing that kept her finances. Your step sisters, Hana and Monet, were not much better. 

"I will have the best chance because of my lovely neck," Monet crooned. She acted like a swan. Hana nudged her over. 

"But I have the best ankles."

"He will not care if neither of you can carry a conversation," Ms. Laurel groaned, hand on her head. She finally noticed your presence. "You still need to dust."

You had, but she would never admit that. 

"What's at the modiste?" you asked, voice small. Ms. Laurel rolled her eyes. 

"Dresses, you dull girl," Ms. Laurel took a seat by the shelf, rubbing her temples. "Prince Elijah is seeking a wife before his coronation, and he's opening invitations to every eligible girl in the kingdom."

No wonder your step sisters were in a tizzy. Not that they'd have a chance. Hana could be mean, but mostly, the two of them were the product of their upbringing. Vapid and clueless to true suffering. You closed your books, hiding the flower under some papers. No, you wouldn't tell your stepmother about Kol's arrival. That was something you'd keep to yourself. 

"And before you ask, you are not attending. I'll need someone to manage the apothecary."

"Not that I wanted to go anyway," you grumbled. Her excuse was false; no one would have come to the apothecary if the crown prince had a ball. Both of you knew that. 

Ms. Laurel whisked out of the shop soon after with your sisters in tow. Some excuses are being made for their absence. Her name might've been on the lease, but it was not hers. It was yours. You waited until the last rings of the bell on the door could be heard before bothering to use magic again. Your books weren't giving you any information, so it was time to try a little trick.

Like an extension of yourself, you let your magic weave around the petals, dancing across as it sought its origin. Tastes and purposes came to your mind, and with perfect clarity, you knew the flower for what it was. You dropped it hurriedly on the table, alarmed. At least you weren't a fool and didn't ingest the flower. You'd probably be dead already. 

You were a little annoyed at the prince for just leaving it with you. 

Like clockwork, he came in again tomorrow. He was once again dressed very casually for a man of his status. He wore the same flirting grin. 

"Have you discovered its origins yet?" he asked, hands clasped behind his back. You leveled a glare at him. 

"Capriforacacus," you raised a brow. "Commonly known as the 'devil's eye,' it's a type of extremely poisonous huckleberry. It's the only one that happens to flower."

"Ah, so you are as good as they say," he purrs. The low timbre of his voice sends shivers up your spine. "Little witchling."

You bristle at the name. "I'm no witch."

"Only magic can truly identify devil's eye," Kol tsked. "That borne of magic can only be found the same ways."

"You tricked me."

"I tested you," Kol shrugged. "I'm so happy I did. You are a sight when you are angry."

Despite him being a pain in your ass, there was nothing malicious about the youngest prince. He was a trickster and annoying, but he looked at you in wonder and intrigue. This was only a witchhunt in the sense that he needed a witch. He had no intention of hurting you. It didn't do much to take away the sour taste on your tongue. 

He leaned as elbows against your table, leaning in close to you. If it were polite, you would've pushed your seat back. As it was, you didn't want to show any vulnerability. Kol grinned. 

"Now that I know I can trust you," Kol smirked. "I do have a real task for you."

"Identifying poisons?"

"Unsure," he said. He pulled out a bunch of random things from his breeches pockets. A coin from the Gulf Coast, a bird's femur, dried plants, and more. It looked like a bad collection of oddities. "This is a secret, darling, so don't utter it to anyone."

You had no one to tell, even if you wanted. 

"I shall be made Spymaster when my brother, 'Lijah, becomes king. I'm adept at sneaking around, and I have no desire to rule. Elijah, despite boring me, knows that. I've already started into my role even though coronation is not for a while."

You had the sense that Kol made a very good spy. He was charming and mischievous and didn't seem to initially come off as threatening. You got the feeling he was actually one of the most dangerous. 

"I have reason to believe that someone is making an attempt on my brother's life," Kol said delicately. Your breath caught in your throat. "We've had various dignitaries coming to stay for the ball at the end of the month, and I've been finding various totems such as these throughout the castle. I've run with enough witches in my day to sense a hex."

He wasn't wrong. Much of what was on the table were various elements in spellwork. Not necessarily evil, but it ws safer to imagine it was for nefarious reasons. You picked up one of the bird bones and grimaced. There was no 'light' spell that utilized animal bones. 

"What are you hoping I will do?" you asked, looking up at him. His dark eyes regarded you cooly. 

"Figure out the spell, figure out the caster," he grinned, the light making his teeth look as sharp as fangs. "I'll be visiting periodically to help, of course. Monitor your progress."

"Make sure I'm not spilling your secrets to the highest bidder," you answered. He quirked a brow, confirming your answer. 

"You will be paid handsomely for your task."

"I'd hope so," you answered without thinking. Curse your stupid tongue. It only spurred him on further. 

"Aren't you a firecracker? I look forward to our next meeting," Kol bowed to you, heading back out of the store. He paused at the threshold, turning to look at you. The sun from the outside gave his hair a warm glow, and he looked every part of the ruggedly handsome prince. "Till later, witchling."

You seethed at the nickname. 

~

When you weren't doing chores for Ms. Laurel, you were researching the various objects. 

The only benefit of your 'room' was that it was on the lowest form of your modest townhome. It was essentially a closet, but far away from prying eyes that allowed you to practice your magic freely. Your body grew hot and itchy when you couldn't cast, and you reveled in the times by yourself when you would conjure the elements. It served even more use now as you utilized your magic to further your research. You weren't closer to an answer, although you were eliminating options. That much was good. 

Your room was next to the kitchen, and occasionally, you had to hide what you were doing from your stepmother, who would come to berate you, and Monet, who would come to steal food. Sometimes, she asked how you were. You weren't sure if she fully meant it. 

You didn't get to see Kol until a week later. 

You had had minimal interactions with the prince, but you found that you missed his energy. You were often a footnote, nothing of importance. Your father was once a respected healer, your mother a hidden witch, and the apothecary renowned for its medicine. Witchcraft was by no means illegal, but it wasn't welcome. Your mother always managed to disguise her healing as something else, even if it was a miracle. You wished you had the same grace she did. 

Your father would've been able to help you with your research, especially before he started to lose his memory before he remarried a woman just so he wouldn't lose the shop. It's times like these you miss him the most. 

It was late afternoon when Kol arrived. He came bearing gifts. You perked up as he took out a bottle of wine and a fresh loaf of bread. 

"I thought it would be nice to have nourishment while studying."

"I think you're spoiling me," you said, mouth salivating from the scents. You hadn't had anything fresh like that loaf in a while, and the wine was way above what you could afford. Kol poured you a glass, and you took a delicate sip. It was full-bodied in a way that made your bones settle into themselves. "Thank you."

"Anything for a pretty witch," Kol winked. You wonder if he flirted with everybody. Part of you hoped it was special only to you. "What progress have you made?"

You spent hours at the shop with Kol, flipping the door sign to 'closed' to offer you some privacy. Kol was your initial assessment and so much more. He was ridiculously intelligent and very curious about the magical world. He was also a little reckless and definitely lived life hanging precariously over the edge. You wondered if he ever worried about falling. 

You conjured a little apparition of a rabbit to quell his curiosity. 

"Elijah plans to welcome magic users onto his court," Kol said, his eyes still full of wonder from the rabbit bouncing around the room. You perked up. 

"He does?"

"He feels that the stigma has gone on too long, that it's time we utilized and appreciated the gifts of witches and warlocks."

You wondered how that would go over with the general public. Kol must've seen the hesitation in your face. 

"Darling," Kol breathed. "Don't be ashamed of your talents and what talents they are." He grinned. You felt yourself grow lighter under his gaze. 

"You're not bad," you whispered, the setting sun casting the shop in tones of pink and orange.

"Did you think I was?"

"I didn't know what to think," you answered honestly. "Most people describe you as dangerous."

"Who says I'm not?"

"You're nice to me," you looked at the bread crumbs from your meal. "That isn't very dangerous."

"Ah, but I did get you wine drunk," Kol grinned, nodding towards your empty glass. He wasn't wrong; your head felt full of fluff. "So, maybe I am as dangerous as they say."

"Are you trying to make me scared of you?" you inquired.

"Is it working?" He leaned forward on the table, almost nose to nose with you. He had thick lashes that you were jealous of. 

"No," you responded. You were being truthful in your statement. He knew it, too. He looked into your eyes as if searching for more truths about you. You didn't know how to offer anything else to him. 

He came over a few more times leading up to the ball, but you were no closer to solving your mystery. One night, you figured out the exact ingredients for the spell. It would bring its target into a deep sleep. Not death, but merely a coma. It still wasn't good, though. 

"Could it be one of the female dignitaries?" you asked. "Securing an engagement so that if Prince Elijah goes into this sleep, she will have the opportunity to rule without the threat of murder?"

"Then she can con him with a fertility spell," Kol mused, tracing the rim of his wine glass with his finger. "Why a sleep spell?"

You weren't closer to figuring out who cast it. 

You did enjoy your time with Kol, though. How could you not? He supplied you with wine and food and laughter, things you rarely got yourself. Camped out in the shop at night, it was your own little world. One where he wasn't the prince, and you weren't a witch. You just were. Sometimes, you caught him looking at you, and your skin would grow hot. You dreamed once of stolen kisses and lingering touches, and the next day, when you saw him, you could barely make eye contact. You were getting into territories you could never come back from. What would happen when your mission was over?

That sadness overcame you the night of the ball. Kol had promised to pay you for your services the day afterward, but then you knew you'd never see him again. Your heart hurts because of it. 

You were sipping tea in the greeting room when your sisters whisked down in their gowns. 

"You both look lovely," you said, giving them a small smile. Monet smiled back, but Hana ignored you, checking her reflection in a mirror. 

"Of course they do; they're gorgeous," Ms. Laurel said as she came down the stairs after them. She was also dressed up, almost as flashy as them. You'd think she was also out to secure an engagement. She pointed a gloved finger at you. "We will be back by midnight. I expect you to have our rooms ready and baths drawn by then."

"Yes, mother."

"Good, we best get going. We're securing our futures!" she cheered, ushering her girls out the door. You watched them with a pang of envy. You didn't care about marrying Elijah, but you'd be a liar to say you didn't enjoy pretty things. You would've liked to wear a pretty dress and see Kol. Maybe he wouldn't have pretended you were a secret. 

You made yourself some dinner with whatever you had stored in your icebox before settling down at the table with all your books again. Something was tugging at your memory, but you couldn't think about what it was. Suddenly, it clicked. You rushed to grab all the spell elements. 

The lesson learned was that maybe you shouldn't always be wine-drunk while trying to find a potential killer. You would need magic for this secret. You whispered the words in the air, imagining each item being a tangled thread. You subtly unpicked all of them, untying the knots and moving them to the side until they formed a bigger picture. When you got to the last one, you gasped. You were an idiot to not see it before. 

If it was true, though, then the spell would be happening tonight, and everyone could see it. You needed to get to the ball. But with what? Even if you could get there, the guards would not let a simple girl like you in. You rushed towards your mother's grimoire. 

You hid it under your bed so your stepsisters couldn't ruin it or Ms. Laurel couldn't burn it. You flipped to the section about disguise spells. You thanked your mother as you found what you were looking for. 

You grabbed the necessary ingredients and laid them out in a salt circle, standing in the middle. You held some loose salt in your hand and sprinkled it over you as you recited the words:

Who you were

You're now another

Take this dress

Make it something other

Your simple clothes were reimagined into a glimmering gown. Your sleeves were gossamer incarnate, the bodice tight before flowing out into the skirt in tiers of satin and chiffon. It made you look delicate and ethereal. It was perfect. 

It came with matching sparkling slippers. They were annoyingly comfortable. 

While you solved your problem of an outfit (and hair, your mother really thought of everything), you still needed a ride. An idea came to you. You conjured a water horse, one of the spirits from the fifth element, and using another of your mother's spells made it corporeal. It was a beautiful white steed, happy to take you where you needed. It would return to its place in the spirit realm by the end of the night. 

All the magic you used made your blood sing and your vision sharper. You raced towards the castle, the wind whipping your hair in a way that made you laugh. You couldn't help it. You felt so free. You ended up at the castle in record time, and even though you were late, no one seemed to care. Everyone was invited, after all. 

You caught a few glances as you raced through the front entrance, searching for the ballroom. You came onto a large staircase in the middle of a dance. Your eyes searched the crowd for Kol, but you couldn't find him, so you started making your way down. You ignored the many eyes looking at you. 

You almost crashed into Kol at the bottom of the stairs. Where he had come from, you had no idea. 

He was dressed like a prince tonight, not like the hellion he normally was. Your breath was taken from you as you regarded him with new eyes. He was always this handsome (you knew that), but in this look, everyone could see it too. 

"Hi, witchling," Kol smiled. His eyes couldn't stop looking at you. "Care to join me?"

He offered you his hand. You heard some people start whispering to each other. You were a strange girl being asked to dance by one of the princes; you suppose it warranted some fascination. Your words were failing you, so you nodded and let him whisk you to the dance floor. He pulled you into a simple waltz. 

"Kol–"

"I resent you for coming tonight," he whispered to you. You looked at him in confusion. "You make it very hard to move on from you."

"Move on?"

"You have bewitched me, darling," he murmurs. "In body and soul."

"Kol," you breathe. You wanted to ask him why you, of all people, have caught his attention; you want to grab him by his lapels and kiss him. You want to run away with him forever. But you remember why you came, not to kiss a prince, but to save one. "Kol, I know who's behind the spell."

He froze at that, his expression becoming guarded again. You whispered into his ear, and he blanched. 

"We need to get you out of here. Now," he cursed, looking around the ballroom. 

"What? Why?"

"He knows I've been looking into it. And you're a witch," Kol said simply. "He'll pin the whole thing on you."

"Kol–" you started but were cut off by shouts of the royal guard. Kol wasn't lying. They were going to use you as a scapegoat. Kol pushed you in the direction of the exit, trying to buy you time. You ran as fast as you could in your heels, picking up your skirts so you didn't trip and tumble on the ground. People were pushed out of the way by the guards, some crying out from the intrusion. You didn't stop, though; you ran towards the entrance. 

Your feet betrayed you. You tripped on the stairs, one of your slippers falling off. You ignored it, continuing down. Several guards came out at the bottom, trapping you. You breathed heavily as you realized this was the end of the road. 

"Arrest her for conspiracy against the crown," the chilling voice of Prince Klaus, the middle brother, crooned. He came down the steps without a care in the world. His eyes were cold and distant. 

"Don't arrest her!" Kol yelled, running up behind his brother. He grabbed your shoe on the way down, almost brandishing it as a weapon as he skidded to a stop. "She's innocent. This is a ploy."

"My dear brother, so desperate for attention," Klaus drawled. "Using this poor girl as an instrument to get the crown. I suppose we'll have to arrest him too."

Kol bristled, and you could do nothing as two guards grabbed him and started to pull him away. Klaus smiled gleefully, no kindness for his brother. You felt the guards attempt to grab your arms, but you wrestled out of them, magic surging through you, providing strength. Your mind went on autopilot, the spells coming easily as you held off the guards with one hand and pointed an accusing finger at Prince Klaus. 

"For those who want the truth revealed

Open hearts and secrets unsealed

From now on, until it's now again

After which, the memory ends.

Those who are now in this place

Will hear the truths in time and space."

Klaus stumbled back, the force of your spell knocking him off his feet. You let the guards go, and the force of your suddenly removing your shield caused them to fall on the steps. You took a step towards Klaus. 

"Prince Klaus conspired to hurt Crown Prince Elijah in an effort to secure the crown for himself," you announced to the crowd. You don't remember the last time you were this brave. "He utilized witchcraft from one of the visiting nations in order to put Prince Elijah in a deep sleep. As the second eldest brother, the crown would fall to him."

The crowd gasped as Klaus' cheeks grew red, his glare focused on you. 

"But Prince Elijah is his brother; he could never kill him. This was the better option. He planned to put it on one of the visiting dignitaries to act as the dutiful brother taking over a post he didn't ask for. Prince Kol started noticing the threats and started investigating, and Prince Klaus knew he needed to pivot. So, he decided to use Prince Kol and me as scapegoats. Positioning the reckless prince and the witch as the enemies."

You took another step towards Klaus, brow raised. 

"Isn't that right, Klaus?" you murmured. 

"That is all true," Klaus said, eyes widening as he slapped a hand over his mouth. You grinned. Your truth spell would make it so he couldn't lie. 

“Niklaus, it’s true?”

Everyone turned to see Prince Elijah, face distraught. He had come out at the end of the confession. You watched Klaus struggle to stop the words from coming out. 

"It's not fair that you get to be King," Klaus seethed. You thought you imagined someone fainting. Elijah looked sad, and you felt for him. You didn't want to imagine what it would feel like to have your sibling do something like that to you. 

"Please release my brother, Kol," Elijah sighed. "And put Prince Klaus in the dungeons for sentencing. Everyone, please go back inside and enjoy the party while the night is young."

The guards took Klaus inside, the rest rounding up the rest of the guests to give Elijah some time to process. You tried to sneak back inside, but Elijah held up a hand, stopping you. 

"You helped my brother discover the spell, correct?" Elijah asked. He was much calmer than Klaus and Kol, much more methodical. You thought its why he would make a better King. 

"Yes, Your Highness," you bowed. Elijah stepped closer to you, taking your hand and kissing its back. Your cheeks flushed. 

"Thank you for saving me."

"It-It was mostly Prince Kol, Your Highness," you stumbled. "He came to me for help."

"Do not sell yourself short, miss–?" Elijah paused, tilting his head to regard you. You recognized the head tilt as something Kol did as well. 

"Y/N, Your Highness."

"Please, call me Elijah," he smiled. He turned towards Kol, who was standing to the side, attempting nonchalance. The desperate look in his eyes betrayed him. Elijah left your side to walk over to Kol's. He offered him his hand. 

"Thank you, for protecting me and your family," Elijah smiled. Kol's expression made your heart break. "You are a better Mikaelson than any of us will ever be."

Kol shook his hand, but Elijah pulled him into a hug. He released him just as quickly. He glanced between you and Kol and smiled knowingly. He whispered something to Kol, which caused him to blush. You had never seen the younger prince embarrassed, but you were lying if you said you didn't enjoy it. 

"You are welcome at the palace anytime, miss Y/N," Elijah bowed to you. "I expect to see you soon."

He left you outside with Kol. You shuffled on the steps, your bare foot cold against the marble. Kol noticed and held up your shoe. 

"May I?" he asked. You nodded, your voice caught in your throat. He kneeled before you, gently lifting up your ankle and putting the shoe back on. His touch was somehow both cold and hot, the skin on his hands rough from use. The image of him kneeling before you was enough to send your heart tumbling. He stood up, giving you a grin. 

"You saved my family."

"You say 'save' as if I singlehandedly figured this out," you said. "It was you as well."

"I provided wine," he laughed. "You provided the knowledge."

"At least Prince Klaus didn't intend to kill your brother," you shrugged. "Although, I know that doesn't truly offer any consolation."

"It doesn't," Kol agreed. "But it'll be okay. Because of you."

"You both are putting a lot of pressure on me."

"I can't help it," Kol shrugged. He took your hands in his, brushing his fingers over your knuckles. "You're a vision."

"You don't have to talk to me now that the job is done," you breathed, looking down at your hands. Your heart clenched in preparation for rejection. 

"What makes you think you aren't stuck with me?" Kol smirked. "I've spent years looking for someone like you."

"A witch?"

"A princess."

He looked at you with a molten intensity that set your insides to ash. You wondered if you were on fire with how hot he made you. You opened and closed your mouth, unable to respond. Kol lifted your hand to his lips, kissing every single finger with a determination that made you melt. 

"You can't be… I'm nobody," you stuttered, but Kol grinned, holding his hands to his chest. 

"I started to fall in love with you from the first day," Kol answered smoothly. "My brother all but begged me to propose to you. You are not a nobody to me."

“But…I…”

"Most marriages have been built on less," Kol cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. "Gods know I would've been betrothed to some boring noble woman."

"I…" you had no words. You couldn't say you loved him yet, but you knew you were dangerously close to it. All those hours and days spent together, every conversation and stolen laughter. You felt genuine terror when they started dragging him away. You knew that by saying yes, you were all but solidifying your heart as his forever. You found you weren't afraid of it. You found it made you feel free. "...Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, I'll marry you," you breathed. "Kol–"

He cut you off with a kiss like he had been a starving man and you were an oasis. You had never been kissed before; your only expectations were those from the gossip you heard around the market. This was infinitely better than all of those. One hand cupped your cheek while the other gripped your waist, pulling you closer to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, sighing. He took that opportunity to deepen the kiss. You felt like you could kiss him forever. 

He pulled away to your mild protest. "You are a vision in this dress. If I were a worse man, I'd take it off of you."

"Kol," you protested, giving him a warning glare. He just chuckled, kissing you again. 

"I'm all yours, darling. All yours."

taglist: @mayfieldss @rafecameronswhore @evasmlp @thefutureastronaut

[whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk]

I know you didn’t put it on the WIP list, but … can I get a look at what Viking Cassian is up to? 🙏

Of course! And because it's Christmas, here's a chunky snippet....

“What’s this? A Saxon woman coming alone into a Danish hall?” His voice was a purr, echoing in the emptiness of the lord’s hall. He was sprawled across a chair beside the long table Rhysand and the king had sat at only a handful of nights ago, his legs kicked over the carved arms of the chair like it was a throne and he was the most irreverent, irresponsible king in the world. He tutted as she approached, the wicked grin on his face turning devious as he turned a dagger idly in hand. “You’re asking for trouble, sweetheart.” Nesta pulled back her hood. “I came to ask for you,” she countered cooly, raising a brow. Cassian smirked, tilting his head as he turned and planted his feet on the ground. Still he turned his dagger in hand, letting the hilt slide across the backs of his fingers. Such utter mastery of the weapon— such control, such balance. He didn’t even need to look at the damned thing. “Some might say they are one and the same thing,” he winked. Nesta rolled her eyes, but made no further move. He leaned forward, braced his elbows on his knees. “Tell me, love. What exactly do you seek me out for?” Nesta blinked at the endearment, but let it pass. “To send a message to your lord.” His eyebrows raised in an echo of hers, straightening in his chair as, at last, he set down his dagger on the table. At his side, the other Dane put away his blade, too. “What message?” Cassian asked. “Better yet, whose message?” Nesta sniffed. “My husband’s.” “And can he not come to ask himself?” She shrugged. “Likely he thinks himself too important to come begging for an audience.” Cassian’s lips twitched. Still reclined in his chair, he held out a hand. Even from a distance Nesta could see the scars across his knuckles, travelling up his wrists. Small nicks forever impressed upon his skin, reminders of how much blood he had already shed. She fought a shiver as she looked at the broad expanse of his palm, wondering how those callouses would feel dragging across the skin at her waist, sliding up the length of her spine— She cleared her throat. He quirked a brow. “Come, sweetheart. Sit. Drink.” Pushing a tankard towards her, he added, “Forget about your husband.” Oh, Nesta thought wryly as her eyes dropped to those hands again. You have no idea how much I want to.

[madly-enthusiastic]

*After a few minutes, a portal appears and Lucifer steps inside the room again, now holding a big bag filled with gifts*

I forgot how heavy is this stuff... *He proceeds to take out some gifts and hand them to the other*

For Al I got uh... I didn't got GOT, I actually made it... here... *he hands Alastor a radio with details in yellow and red, its button are apple shaped* Since you like red so much, I thought of making you a radio with it... I know it's probably a stupid gift but I really hope you like it! @voxtechsmells

For Husk, I got him this thing! *he proceeds to give Husk a plant* It's catnip! I know it might seem like a joke but if I figured out some catnip would be better than drinking booze and having a hangover the next day! @husksaysno

For Nifty I got a... feather. A feather of mine. *He gives the feather to Nifty* It's pretty sharp so you can use to stab bugs or... whatever you wanna stab.

For Angel, I got him some stuff for Fat Nuggets! *he pulls out a hundred things for pet, such as a small bed, some toys and some clothes* I bet he'll look adorable in those!

For Charlie and Vaggie, well... Alastor already told you guys! Buuut! I still made a lil' something! *He conjures two personalized ducks, both being a small Charlie and Vaggie replicas* They come with accessories too! *He shows Charlie's trident and shield then shows Vaggie's spear* Made out of angelic steel! @princesscharliesstuff @hazbinsprotectorxxx

Actually- I made small ducks of everyone! *He proceeds to conjure the rest of the cast's ducks, there are ducks of Alastor with his microphone, Husk with booze and cards, Angel with his phone, guns and Fat Nuggets, even a Keekee with her normal and key form* I hope y'all like it!

Merry Sinsmas!

*Vaggie hands out her gifts*

For Charlie: @princesscharliesstuff

Pink fluffy blanket

New sketchbook

Coloring book

The last book to her book series

and a special gift (revealing later)

For Lucifer: @madly-enthusiastic

Rubber ducks

For Alastor: @voxtechsmells

Vinyls for his record player

For Husk:

Booze

Deck of Cards for gambling

Magic kit

For Angeldust:

A card

For Niffty:

Fabric

(Put your reactions and the gifts you got for everyone)

[queen-mabs-revenge]

the problem is that there's simply not enough pee in this litterbox, and yet i cannot find out where the pee is??? this is a tiny ass apartment i should not be able to not find the pee?

are they peeing in the sink?????

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Guizhong (don't mind me re-dropping this with the fixed ones, shh)

[genderfluid-druid]

finally learning emotional intelligence as an adult in my 30s feels like playing with goddamn tinker toys while i watch other people my age building these beautiful emotional ecosystems out of hand carved mahogany. but the alternative is to continue being glib and dismissive of every emotion i experience for the rest of my life so 👍 pass me that green rod i guess. and do you see any more hubs

[4lexnilsen]

“why wouldn’t it be allowed?   is studying together forbidden in illinois now?”   playing dumb because it’s easier than admitting their friendship may not be as innocent as they insist,  alex can’t help but wonder how harry feels about all this.   sarah usually just rolls her eyes and gives him the silent treatment for a few hours.   they rarely fight because of his friendship with helena.   “thank you.”   blushing faintly,  he’s not really used to people complimenting his name and so it means even more.   “and that’s very sweet of you.   i,  personally,  really like it when you call me alexander.”   it makes him feel special,  like he means something to her because she can spend the extra seconds and actually call him by his full name instead of settling for the more common option —   alex.   “have you ever asked your parents why they went with helena?   i’m only asking because my parents,  for whatever reason,  decided to name us all in alphabetical order.   alexander,  bryce,  cameron and david.   that’s kind of weird,  isn’t it?”   he laughs,  shaking his head,  but figuring all families have their little quirks.   “is alfred like…   your dad’s uncle?”   he remembers her telling him,  the very day that they first met,  that she wanted to help others like her late grandfather.   he was a doctor,  she’ll be a vet.   and so he knows that alfred isn’t her grandfather as his name has popped up in several of their conversations,  and he’s very much alive.   but she always refers to him by his name so he has no idea whether they’re related by blood or not.  

“i’ll dedicate it to you.   for helena wayne,  thanks for suffering through the very first draft,  and all the other ones that came after it.”   it doesn’t even occur to him that he should probably dedicate it to his girlfriend.   why would it?   he hasn’t even told her that he’s writing a book,  afraid she will ridicule him.   “how do you know these things?”   very much impressed,  he gently squeezes her hand.   eyes twinkling with happiness.   harry is one lucky guy.   “have you ever been to italy?”   maybe he could save up enough money to take her there one day.   but she’s not his to spoil with trips to italy,  a voice of reason reminds,  causing his cheeks to flush an even darker shade of red.   “you have so little trust in me,  helena wayne.   i’d never let you face plant into the ice.”   he shakes his head,  holding her hand as she begins to skate on her own,  chest brimming with pride.   he even whistles in approval,  beaming at her.   “look at you go!   the next olympics are yours,  little cat!   where do i sign you up?”   teasing,  he’s grinning up until he hears someone call out her name.   they both freeze.   a wave of shame crawling up his neck.

he shouldn’t feel ashamed.   after all,  it’s not like they’re doing anything wrong.   can’t two friends go ice skating together?   are they not allowed to hold hands when letting go means one of them might get injured?   it’s not like they’ve been making out underneath the mistletoe.   sarah knows exactly where he is and with whom,  and so does harry,  right?   then why does he feel so weird?   his heart lurching into his throat,  blood buzzing so loudly that he can barely hear his own thoughts…   and since helena isn’t dropping his hand,  he only tightens his grip,  giving a reassuring squeeze.   he doesn’t join in on the conversation,  not up until his name gets dragged into it.   then,  he awkwardly lifts his other hand in a silent hello,  puts on his best smile and calls out,   “alex nilsen.   nice to meet you.”   actually,  it’s anything but nice,  but he can’t really say that.   relief washes over him when the guy doesn’t throw a fit and they can skate away,  faces flushed and hearts thudding.   he only laughs when helena speaks up again,  their hands still locked.   “what’s weird is,”   harry has friends in the first place,   “chicago is such a big city and sometimes it feels so small.   are we in trouble with harry now? does he know... you know, that we're here? without sarah? but yeah,  churros sound real good,  with dulce de leche sauce.   it’s the best.”

"oh, sure. if that's allowed." with his girlfriend, she discreetly points out yet again. because she isn't so certain how SHE would feel about that and it kind of bothers helena. "alexander is beautiful. i like refer to people as their full names... that's what i was taught by my dad and alfred. it's a habit just instilled in me now." her family's butler, but she won't say that in fear it makes her sound too pretentious. he's more than that, he's family, but no one outside their family is going to understand it. fearful of being judged for it, despite how much alfred means to her. he's like the grandfather built in best friend she didn't get to have by blood. "and it's just unfair, to have such a beautiful handsome regal name and to not be referred as such." raven haired girl adds. "that's amazing. of course i want to be the first." that's incredibly fascinating, the fact he's taking off writing books of his own. his girlfriend must be so proud and enamored, if she cares. "mhm, there is actually. sfusato amalfitano and the limone di sorrento. they're highly prized lemons." helena grins, letting her hands go from his forearms, moving herself away to resort to skating freely on her now while holding his left hand. "and what? face plant into the ice when you over speed and throw me off?" this is a challenge she, for the first in her life, isn't so eager to take on. listening to him talk, about to respond until the sound of her name has her distracted.

"helena?" turning her head as they're passing back by the front entrance. the face belonging to harry's best friend. "colby? um, hi. what're you doing here? shouldn't you be at the lounge with harry?" feeling so awkward, caught, holding alex's hand... but unable to bring herself to let go in fear of faceplanting in front of everyone. "no," his voice slow, like he notices that too, the weirdness of the girl who is his best friends girlfriend holding another guys hand, "i'm here with my new girlfriend maisy. we're on a date. she's coming. so who's that?" not afraid to just openly come out with it, purposely trying to put her on the spot as he gestures to the guy next to her. none of your business, her first instinct to grumble; but quickly thinks how that'll make her sound guilty. "oh! my best friend. because harry didn't show, he was supposed to be here." putting it back to him with attitude, so in case he wants to go back telling him, then he can see it's his fault she's holding another guys friend. "anyway, we're off now. have fun, bye," waving goodbye as she's looking back forward to concentrate where they're going. "that was weird... i wonder if we should go try these churros, now?" before he rouses harry up and gets him to come over and ruins the rest of their night.

[squidaped-oyt]

I appreciate dramatic plants that will demonstrate in great detail just how they’re suffering and how deprived they are ... and do that indefinitely without dying until you fix what’s wrong.

In this case it was my heliamphora, who didn’t appreciate being off to the side of the grow lights and not in the middle, and started making the most hideous pitchers I’ve ever seen to complain to the management about it.

[certifiedyapperx]

imagine you’re dating ghost and no one knows. the two of you have kept it a secret on your end and his just for your protection— because ghost knows what could happen if someone finds out, how someone might try and target you to get to him, or worse, given his line of work.

but then imagine that he’s on a mission, interrogating some piece of filth ready to decorate the fucking wall with his brain matter when the guy says “you know what, simon, killing me would be the biggest mistake of your life.”

immediately ghost would pause, eyes narrowed, though his hardened demeanour wouldn’t fade much, he’d just blankly stare at the prick like “oh yea? n’ why don’ you tell m’ why.”

the shit-eating grin that would crawl across that fuckers lips would have ghost ready to kill him right then and there, but then he’d say “reach in my pocket. pull out my phone.”

id like to think ghost would have absolutely none of this assholes bullshit, not at all entertained by his theatrics. i’d like to think he’d just press the muzzle of his gun to the fuckers temple within an instant, all teeth barred and ready to get it over with when the guy would add,

“your girlfriend is a fucking beauty, isn’t she?”

everything would pause. ghost, time, the world, air, the universe itself—the life that would drain from ghosts face would almost be enough to make his alias a reality. his heart pounding in his throat, his fingers fucking trembling as he immediately reached into the assholes pocket to find his phone—a picture of a woman tied up (face not in view however) lighting up on the home screen. there’d be no thinking rationally, no thoughts in ghosts head except for making sure you were fucking okay. he’d do whatever he’d have to do, kill the guy, leave him strapped there, whatever—he’d be out of that room in two seconds flat and personally flying the helicopter back to your house calling you nonstop every fucking second until you answered.

“hello? si?”

he’d wait a second before answering. taking everything in. background noises, the inflection of your voice. it sounds calm, maybe too calm? he’s grasping his phone so fucking hard it’s a miracle it hasn’t shattered between his fingers.

“princess,” he breathes, fighting with everything in him to keep his voice steady. “see any birds today?”

though it was a genuine question, it also was an established one. ghost had set up a series of questions for a situation precisely like this. if you said blue jay, it meant you were fine, at home, as usual. if you said crows, it meant you weren’t.

“oh just the usual blue jays, si.” he could almost hear the smile on your lips. “everything okay? i miss you.”

ghost would exhale a shattered breath. “i’m coming home.”

and then he’d show up, not all but a few hours later, hands still trembling slightly, heart rate still struggling to regulate. it was too much, reminding him too much of his past traumas, he knew he needed to find better protection for you, but that was a conversation for another time.

he’d come in the house, barely even taking the time to shut the door behind him, almost frenzied again, relentless, unable to relax until he could finally lay eyes on you. and then, the second he did, he’d just pause and look at you, all messy hair and pyjamas still on, in the kitchen cooking breakfast for you both since you knew he was on his way.

and he wouldn’t say a goddamn word, he’d just come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, hugging you so tight you’d hardly be able to breathe, his face buried in your hair and his heart thumping at your back. you’d feel the pain the fear the anxiety radiating off him and you wouldn’t try to say anything because you knew he needed this, you knew he needed to see you, hold you, feel your pulse stable and alive. you knew he just needed a moment to breathe.

and so the two of you would stand there like that for a while, and then he’d take a big inhale and spin you around to face him, pulling up his mask to plant soft kisses on your jaw.

“i love you so fuckin’ much.”

[arolesbianism]

Horrible realization that if I go through with recollecting all the oni logs then I'll have to actually find out how to get "a seed is planted" like for realsies this time. Maybe I should just cheat them all in actually. <3.

[heavenbarnes]

I used to date an older guy (like mid 40s) a few years back and I always got stupidly turned on when he fixed stuff around his house?? Like, he just knew hot to do it and did it. No googling, just him and his tools. Feel like it would fit somewhere in your older bf Simon stuff.

god love a fully capable “fuck it i’ll do it” type of man 🫶🏼

you know that your older bf!simon doesn’t believe in hiring tradespeople for a service.

“why would i pay someone to fuck about in my home?”

“they’re not fucking about, si! they’d be fixing the sink”

“i’ll do it”

you have no doubt that simon was more than capable of fixing things around the house but you also wanted him relaxing when he was home.

turns out he couldn’t relax at the thought of another man doing something for you.

so you let him do it, you threw your hands up and waved your white tea towel in defeat as you heard him banging around in the garage for tools.

hearing the faint sounds of grunting and the occasional swear word coming from the bathroom, you thought it might pay to go and see how he was getting on.

fucking hell.

simon was on his back, arms stretched up above him as his hands dwarfed the pipe they were wrapped around. t-shirt riding up, lines of his stomach leading right to his belt, knees bent and boots firmly planted on the floor, you could honestly just-

“oi, you gonna’ stare or help me?”

now how the fuck?

“your heads in the cupboard, how did you know-“

“i always know where you are, pass me the wrench”

crouching down beside him, you handed it over and stayed down there to watch him work. scarred knuckles wrapped around the handle of the tool, other palm flat against the base of the sink so you could see the veins.

he was something else entirely.

“how d’you know how to do all this?”

“taught m’self, come hold this”

you reached over to replace where his palm was so he could have both hands back. “but why? surely other people don’t learn all this?”

“other people don’t care about their sweet’art not having to lift a finger- move your finger for me”

the more you stretched to hold the sink, the more you felt yourself losing traction with it. naturally, simon noticed before you did.

“y’need to get closer, cm’ere”

tools landing to the side of him, two large hands plucked you up till you were dropped in his lap. precarious situation but you couldn’t deny the sink was a lot easier to reach.

you stayed like that, letting simon work in peace as you enjoyed your view. honestly, he could invite you to the end of the world and you’d just be happy to hold his hand.

one hand splayed out on his chest, the other holding the sink, you suddenly felt a tickle forming at the end of your nose. before you knew it, you were pulling your hand back to scratch it- the one holding the sink.

you panicked, realising it could very well land on simon’s head. but it didn’t, it stayed completely still. face screwing up, you leant in again to give the sink a nudge only to find out it was totally fixed.

“what the hell, si? why’d you have me doing all that?”

you saw the smirk on his face as he flashed a look over at you. suddenly, you realised you weren’t the only one enjoying the view.

the hand that didn’t have the wrench came out to give you a pat on the side of your hip.

“c’mon sweet’art, i can’t get anything outta’ this?”

[lovelivision]

꒰꒰mdni // masterlist꒱꒱

Getting double penetrated by Gojo and Geto, taking them both at the same time. Laying on top of Gojo, head pressed to his chest, unable to help the way you’re drooling onto his skin. Geto behind you, cock sat deep inside your snug cunt, alongside Gojo’s.

Pussy overstuffed and making an obscene mess, not able to move, trying to adjust to the stretch of having both of them inside you. Gojo stroking your back and cooing at you, “Too much for you, sweetie?”

Shaking your head quickly against him, panting out, “No– hah– I’m good.”

Geto lets out an amused huff and leans down to you, murmuring low in your ear, “You always take it so well don’t you?”

His voice sends shivers down your spine, biting your lip to supress the moan you almost let out at his movements and words.

Both of them groan at your reaction, Gojo breathlessly asking, “You feel that, Suguru?”

“Mhm,” Geto cruelly blows on your ear, “You like when I talk to you?”

Your hips jerk, fucking yourself on the both of them, “Please.”

Gojo laughs but it comes out wrecked, “Sounds like you’re avoiding the question.”

“Can’t have that can we?” Geto directs at Gojo.

To which he only smiles back big and evil, “No, we can’t.”

They both begin moving at once, apparently knowing exactly what the other was thinking. Your cunt making lewd slick sounds as they both thrust in and out of you. Feeling so full it’s driving you up a wall, nails digging into Gojo’s chest under you. Breaths coming fast as you struggle to think, incoherent whines being the only thing that leaves you.

Your pussy sucking them both back in, twitching and squirming between the two of them. Using your hips to fuck yourself back onto the both of them as much as you can manage.

Geto pulls himself up, hands gripping your ass cheeks to pull them apart, choking back a moan at the sight of it all. Ruined when he says, “So messy, creaming all over us.”

“Wish I could see– hnn– next time we’re swapping – hah – positions, Suguru.” Gojo rambles out, obviously feeling jealous at being deprived of the whole view, “How does it feel, hmm?” Gojo asks you, wanting you to tell him how good it feels.

Your response is moaned, “Feels so– oh! I feel full.” Tears brimmed on your lash line.

“I fuckin bet,” he chuckles out. “Look here, look at me, pretty,” Gojo’s directing your attention to him.

It takes everything in you to look at him, he whines when you do, the look on your face making his hips jerk and stutter, pace ruined for a moment. You’re all teary eyed and mouth agape, choking on moans that don’t stop, it drives Gojo wild.

“Ohh that’s cute,” A hand reaches up and he wipes the spit from the corner of your mouth.

Geto grunts at the pace change, “You good, Satoru?”

“Oh yeah, just admiring the view,” he smirks at you.

The hum Geto lets out is low and thoughtful, his hands pulling at your ass again, “As much as I love this view, I wanna see how you cry for it, pretty.” Geto’s tone is bright, enjoying the thought of you falling apart for them. His eyes flick to Gojo’s, “Think we might have to swap positions next time after all.”

Then they’re sharing a cheeky smile with each other before drilling into you again, quicker, doubling their efforts to make you insane. The whimpers they’re pulling out of you just won’t stop, and Gojo’s holding such intense eye contact it’s making you feel bashful. Leaning into him, you plant your lips on his in a messy kiss.

Your tongue in his mouth before he can think, a loud moan caught in his chest at how insistently you kiss him. From behind, Geto clicks his tongue, hand reaching for your neck to pull you back and off Gojo’s mouth.

“Can’t have Satoru keeping all your pretty moans to himself,” he squeezes your neck lightly as a warning.

“Mm sorry,” you murmur out.

Gojo bites his lip and smiles at you, “I’m not.”

Geto gives a particularly harsh thrust, one that makes you cry out a moan and your head spin all at once.

The both of them at once just might kill you…

[notquitecanon]

Keep talking // Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader

Summary: Simon really likes your new sundress AND wants to hear about your day. These things can coexist

Tags: established relationship, pretty domestic, yapper wife x silent husband, sunshine x grumpy kinda??? Whatever tropes the kids are saying these days suggestive but not NSFT, dumbification if you really squint, husband Simon Riley, pg-13 at worst

—

Simon was staring at you. Intensely. Him staring wasn’t exactly a new thing, he was a silent creature by nature. He watched, he listened. Especially to you. He loved listening to you.

You’d barely noticed his intense gaze as you flitted about the kitchen of your shared home, putting away the things you’d bought while you’d been out, all the while chittering on about your day, the people you talked to, the things you’d seen, things you’d bought, things you’d almost bought, things you didn’t buy, what you had for lunch, what you were thinking for dinner… And Simon listened like always, absorbing your presence like a plant absorbs sunlight.

Anyone else would have been cowed under the weight of his stare, but not you. Not only were you used to it, you loved having his attention. Every now and then you’d offer him a sweet smile when you looked to him or press a kiss to his cheek or jaw or wherever you could reach easiest as you’d squeeze past where he was leaning against the kitchen counter, absolutely dwarfing the appliances. His face gave away nothing, it never did so you kept talking- yapping, you’d call it jokingly.

“Anyways, that’s when I told her-“

“New dress, love?”

His interruption cut you off. You set down the purse you were unpacking and looked to him as you trailed off.

“Hm?”

Simon kicked off the counter, closing the short distance. It was then you noticed that his eyes weren’t on your face or eyes or even lips, but instead tracing the line of the strap laying on your shoulder.

“‘aven’t seen that one. Is it new?” His eyes roamed to the skirt where his fingers had caught a sliver of the bow in the back, “Soft.”

You cleared your throat as you turned around to face him, “I got it a few weeks ago, since it’s getting hotter, sun dress season and all, but it might be a little much for running around town…guess you haven’t seen it though-“

You cut yourself off again when you felt the tension in the tied back slack. The snapped your eyes to Simon, realizing he hadn’t dropped the bow’s string as you turned.

“I’d remember this one, lovie.” He was still gazing at the hem line appreciatively, where the delicate pattern you loved so much revealed your thighs.

“Well, then it’s new to you.” Your voice was quieter now that you’d realized the specific intensity in his gaze. Simon grunted in response, his large calloused hands resting at your hips. You could feel the roughness and warmth through the thin summer fabric.

“You were saying?” He reminded you with a slight smirk, knowing he’d derailed your train of thought. Cheeky bastard.

“Oh, uh,” You started again, preoccupied with the little circles he was rubbing on your hips, “I told her that, well, that-“

Simon nodded along to your barely coherent dialogue, as if he was listening to a TED talk. Heat was rising up your chest and neck as the solider kept getting closer until your chests were basically flush and your legs were interlocked, your chatting was only slightly better than babbling but you continued choking through your story. Even when he’d slowly moved you backwards so that you were the one pressed against the counter. You hadn’t realized you stopped once again until his brows raised, “that all?”

“Si-“ You all but whined, sharply gasping when he suddenly and effortlessly lifted you unto the kitchen counter, the stone counter chilling the backs of your thighs. Even sat on the tall counters, you still only came up to his broad chest, “We have your friends coming later-“

“And I cleaned up the yard just like you asked, love. Wearing this dress tonight?” Simon questioned gruffly, brushing a kiss first across the top of your head and then leaning down to dust a trail of kisses down your neck.

“What? Probably- but” you stuttered, the heat of his breath making it hard to track the different tracks of conversation.

“Good, does this come in any other colors?” His questions almost fell on deaf ears as he brushed the straps off your shoulders so he could continue his path down your chest. The hands on your hips had traveled first to your knees and were slowly hiking the hemline of your dress up. He paused when you didn’t answer, cutting those sharp eyes up to yours, squeezing your thigh to get your focus back on him and not just his hands. You hummed in confusion, “colors, love?”

“Oh, uh, a couple I think,” you nodded as the squeeze to your thigh turned to a kneading moving further up, “I wanted to try one, but it was hard to decide-“

Simon was sinking to his knees in front of you, never breaking eye contact, “Keep talking, love. I’m listening.”

Simon was a hard man to say no to, so you kept talking. Jumping from thought to thought as they became fewer and farther between, a hand in his hair to ground yourself as he’d offer questions from between your legs until you could no longer say anything but his name.

___

I wrote this in 20 minutes on an airplane. It’s not proofread nor is it really in character. First time writing for COD but hopefully not the last… we shall see where the hyperfixation takes me

[sttoru]

‘no matter how much time the king of curses spends with you, he doesn’t think he will ever understand you or your affectionate behaviour towards him.’

☀︎｜tags. true form sukuna x female reader. heian era sukuna. fluff. bits of mentions of blood & murder. big size difference. cold-big-monster-having-a-small-soft-spot-for-a-single-human trope. reader gets called ‘little one, brat’. not proof read! let me know if you like my characterisation or not; it’s my first sukuna fic.

a kiss on the cheek is one of the most innocent - yet apparently also the most difficult - things to do. it’s a small form of intimacy; not that hard to do. it’s really as simple as planting your lips on your beloved’s cheek. then all you do is retreat — maybe get a kiss on the cheek back from him. or on the lips.

“get moving. i’m not waiting all day for you.” sukuna grumbles. you had suddenly stopped in your tracks and the king of curses was confused as to what the reason might have been. the two of you had been walking through the courtyard for a few minutes now — well, you basically had to drag him out to take a little stroll together.

and now the same you was quiet. it bothered sukuna; you were always so chatty around him when it was just the two of you. he might have called you an ‘annoying brat’ for it, but he secretly enjoyed your company and voice.

“c-coming.” you reply in a quiet mumble, eyes glancing over at the monstrous frame that stood a few steps away. his dull yet sharp gaze was focused on you — like he was sizing you up. or rather: trying to figure out what’s wrong with the change in behaviour you showed.

sukuna watches you as you hurry over to his side again. he resumes walking, hands folded over each other under the material of his kimono.

though, he couldn’t yet let go of the fact that you were acting different around him. the king of curses’ suspicion only grew once he noticed how your fingers fiddled with your obi. you were anxious about something.

sukuna shakes his head slightly. some humans sure are difficult to understand, he thinks to himself. your happy yet reserved personality when you usually interacted with him had disappeared and made place for a nervous wreck. trying to figure out why made sukuna’s head hurt.

were you finally scared of him? like all other humans and curses were?

he doesn’t know why, but it felt like he would hate for such thing to happen. sukuna usually wouldn’t care if someone resents, fears or somehow even admires him. only you could make him think and care about such difficult and maybe even trivial things.

“uhm,” you break off his train of thoughts and his eyes are instantly on yours again, “may i do something really quickly?”

sukuna’s face doesn’t show any change in expression, but a small nod tells you everything you need to know. you clear your throat, “can you please lower your head towards me?”

lowering his head? oh, you got some guts. if anyone else had said that to him, sukuna would have obliterated them; there wouldn’t have been anything but red bloody dust left of their body.

but then again: it’s you. all exceptions the king of curses makes are for you.

sukuna slightly lowers his head to your level so you could do whatever you needed to. he’d be lying if he said that his curiosity wasn’t piqued. it always was when he was around you.

you gulp. it was time to do what you’ve longed to do ever since the beginning of your stroll: give the ryomen sukuna a kiss on the cheek. you don’t think he’d be mad—at least he never seriously gets mad at you. only to get a reaction out of you since your responses are always ‘intensely amusing’—as he says.

“go on.” sukuna’s breath hits your cheeks. he was so close—too close that it made you even more nervous in a way. as if you hadn’t even had your first kiss yet.

you swallow your fears and just go for it. your lips attach to his cheek in the fraction of a second—the speed of light—before they leave. it was right under his right set of eyes.

you take a step back and clear your throat. you try to escape the embarrassment of sukuna’s possible reaction by continuing your stroll, though were stopped by a strong hand firmly grabbing your forearm.

“where’d you think you’re going?”

sukuna’s deep voice echoes through your ears. you were surprised to hear the tone of it; almost soft. a tone sukuna uses on rare occasions: in your presence.

you turn your head around and smile sheepishly at the king of curses before you. he doesn’t return the same (not that you expected him to), however he does unexpectedly ruffle your hair for a split second. or at least he attempts to.

his large and warm palm lands on top of your head and he gives it a little and subtle shake. sukuna had seen you do a similar action to someone else before, thus he concluded that he could do it to you. maybe as a form of endearment or. . whatever you used it as.

he did find the way you tried to scurry away after giving him a kiss very adorable. even if he wouldn’t say so out loud.

“now, come along. we don’t have all day.” sukuna nonchalantly mutters after retracting his hand. it left as fast as it came, though you were still stunned at the slight show of affection the king of curses returned.

you instantly catch up to sukuna again—walking next to him as fast as your legs could take you. you were a bit more at ease after you got a positive reaction to your little kiss. it was a pity that he didn’t smirk or laugh at you—maybe mocked you like he usually would. but that head pat made up for it.

even if it did leave your hair a little disheveled.

you couldn’t properly see sukuna’s face, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips was undeniably there. even if it was for just a split second.

“how very interesting.” sukuna mutters under his breath so you wouldn’t catch on. he sighs and shakes his head, unable to keep out that memory of you looking so cute—standing on the tip of your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek with your comically small hand on his jaw line. he doesn’t know why he found that to be so thrilling.

you flutter your eyelashes. you were curious about what he might have commented on, “may i ask what you had just said? i didn’t quite hear it.”

a short second of silence hangs before sukuna tilts his head to the right to look down at you again; his face expressionless, but still having a hint of a grin on his lips.

“i said you better hurry before i gobble you up right this instant.” he replies, (playfully) intimidating you with his sharp red eyes that glinted with a form of danger.

you shiver (though knew the threat was an empty one) and instantly pick up your pace. you even get ahead of him, walking as fast as your legs could. you answer with a curt ‘my apologies’ and walk like you actually have somewhere to be.

sukuna’s grin only grows as he sees you get ahead of him. if you had turned around, maybe you could have caught onto that light flicker of affection in his expression.

“i’m coming for you, little one.” sukuna adds just to ignite some more fear into you and you react as expected, “you’re not escaping me today.”

it was a funny sight; your reactions always make him enjoy his time with you even more than he already (secretly) was.

the way his body reacts in mysterious ways when you’re around, is still very much an unsolved riddle to the king of curses. and the reasons as to why you aren’t scared of him and can easily give him all your ‘love’ are also still yet to be discovered.

until then, sukuna will continue to enjoy teasing you.

[dpspcehntr]

Okay you can write this however you want ( if ur comfortable with it) but I'd really like to see the Lads reacting if they came out of the shower and fem mc was there in their room and she removes the robe to see because she is curious what's underneath 🤭🤭

OOOO! I haven’t thought about this but I love the intimacy of this! I'm going to write this from the idea of this being early in your relationship with him.

My ask box is open! Send me your NSFW head cannons/thoughts/confessions about the LADS main 4! I might even write some of them up!

Warning: suggestive content

Xavier

He sees you sitting on his bed in his hoodie and your pajama shorts playing a game on your phone. The look of concentration on your face lets him know you haven’t noticed his presence just yet.

"What are you playing? Can I join?"

You flinch and look over to him standing in the doorway of the bathroom. This was not your first time staying over his place but it was the first time you've ever seen him in his robe. Your words are lost in your throat as he walks over to you, phone discarded on the bed next to you. Without thinking you reach out to pull the string of his robe. You expected to see his usual black boxers but was greeted by his naked form. Your throat goes dry as you shut it in hast. Your face is flush and you look away.

"S-sorry. I didn't know."

He lightly grips your chin and turns you to look at him again. His skin is covered in a light blush as he leans in for a kiss.

"I figured it would be easier if I didn't have on any clothes. But now I feel under dressed."

You reach for the hem of his hoodie and lift it off with a quickness as he climbs into the bed on top of you.

Zayne

You were packing up the belongings you brought with you for the weekend at his place when he enters the room in nothing but his robe loosely tied around his waist. He walks over to you by the dresser and slides his arms around you.

"I wish you'd stay just a little bit longer."

He plants a kiss on your shoulder and lays his head in the crook of your neck. You stay like this for a minute, just enjoying the feeling of being in his arms.

"I can spare just a little while longer. I'm dying to unwrap this gift you've gotten me."

You turn around and face him. You lock your eyes with his as you pull the ties on his robe. You give him an up and down look and hum in satisfaction.

"It's perfect."

He blushes and lifts you up to sit on the dresser.

"That's just a part of this gift, I still have more to give."

He kisses you as you scoot to the edge of the dresser and hook your legs around him.

Rafayel

Rafayel quickly enters his bedroom as you lay out on his bed. His robe is tied tight around his waist as he makes his way over to you. His nervous yet excited energy is palpable in the room as he steps between your spread legs.

"Don't be shy, let me see."

Slotted between your thighs you carefully pull at the string of his robe. His face bright red avoiding making eye contact with you as all of him is exposed. This is the first time you've gotten a moment to really look at all of him. He was beautiful, lean but powerful. Water droplets roll down his smooth skin like crystals. His breath gets more and more shallow, waiting for you to make a move.

"This is so embarrassing."

You press your hand right below his naval. Your hand warm on his cool skin as he lets out a hiss. His eyes screwed shut as you run your hands over his body. Everywhere but where he needed you, his need more visible as time passes.

"Patience my love, I'll give you what you want soon."

You sooth him as you grip the opening of his robe and pull him down over you as you lay down.

Sylus

You sit on Sylus' bed, reading something from his vast library in his mansion. He had slipped out the room some time ago to take his nightly shower. Before long you're sucked into this book, unaware of the footsteps making their way toward you.

"I'm quite fond of that title as well, though the ending is a tad disappointing. I'll have to introduce you to her other works."

You quickly reach for your bookmark, a piece of paper with a doodle of Sylus from Luke, and slam the book shut.

"You scared me-"

Your words trail off as you take him him. Hair dripping, chest exposed, and a robe tied dangerously low. You clear your throat and sit up. Still at a loss for words he closes the distance between you and gestures to the strings on his robe.

"Go ahead. I've got nothing to hide, sweetie."

You carefully grab one of the ties of his robe and watched as his whole form is exposed to you. A soft wow escapes your lips as you look him up and down. He grabs one of your hands and presses it to his chest, your hand warm on his cool body. A smug smirk sits on his lips and leans down to your ear.

"It's all yours kitten, use responsibly."