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girlleon · 4 months ago

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SPACE BETWEEN

uncle!leon kennedy x fem!reader

warnings: uncle-niece incest, 18+. content below the cut, vomit (non-sexual capacity), age gap (early-mid 30s to late teens-early 20s). fingering, oral (f! receiving, piv, creampie… Leon’s kind of a simp and lame tbh. ddlg undertones, just a little. heaps of praise :3

i got inspired by uncle from nicole dollanganger tbh.

“I want to marry my Uncle Leon!” you said when you were seven, smiling up at him with two front teeth missing, chubby baby arms wrapped around his thigh.

Half-uncle, really, but that’s semantics. It’s like someone saying the sky is blue and another person saying it’s turquoise. They’re both right, one’s just really fucking annoying about it.

He also thought you’d say you wanted to marry your dad, because that’s pretty common with kids. Most girl’s dads or brothers are their first loves, so he was pleasantly surprised at the honor of being your chosen husband.

Unfortunately, you’re also seven, and that’s very illegal.

Your dad chuckles and doesn’t bother to try and peel you off. He tried that once and you went back to sticking to him like sweat, so he didn’t bother after that.

“Do you have a wife, Uncle Leon?” You ask him, smiling up at him so sweetly. You got those dimples from your mom, and he’ll never admit it, but they melt his heart just a little.

“No, sweetheart.” He reaches down and ruffles your hair. “I’m all yours for the taking.”

You beam up at him, even as he messes up your hair. “Good! ‘Cause you’re all mine!”

Your dad snorts, promptly looking innocent when Leon glares at him halfheartedly.

“That’s right.” Leon lugs you up into his arms, kissing your temple and giving you the faintest smile. “I’m all yours.”

He sees you a little less and less as the years wear on. He’s busy and you’re busy and grow from a sweet kid to a petulant preteen to an awkward teenager.

He’s still the first one you call, though, when you’re sixteen and drunk at a house party you shouldn’t be at. You’re swaying a little as he pulls up to the curb.

Leon leans over and opens the door for you—you toddle over and slam his door shut with a soft apology. “I didn’t wanna be there anymore.” You say, looking more than a little uncomfortable. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad, sweetheart.” He reaches over and rubs your shoulder. “I’m glad that you called me instead of your dad.”

“Thanks.” You’re a little tacky with sweat and smell like a brewery and some sickly sweet floral perfume when you lean over to put your head on his shoulder. Baby’s first grown-up perfume instead of the body spray they sell at bath and body works. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

“I’m still glad it was me.” Leon reiterates, kissing the top of your head. “C’mon, sweet girl, let’s get you home. Seatbelt on.”

You pull away reluctantly, buckling in your seatbelt with clumsy hands. “I know, I know. I got the riot act from my doctor when I got the physical done for the permit. Seatbelts yes, swerving no.” You grumble, pushing a sparkly hand through your hair.

He snorts, starting the car and pulling away from the curb. “Is that everything?”

“She said she’d pull my license if she caught me.” You reply, propping a temple on your fist. “‘Cause she’s a doctor and a mandatory performer—reporter. Mandatory reporter.”

Leon can’t help a quiet chuckle, even when you swat at him. “You got there in the end.”

The quiet roll of the car rocks you right to sleep, and he sneaks glances at you as he moves around pot holes and takes speed bumps slowly to avoid jostling you awake and fucking up his suspension. Cute, your nose still twitches like a bunny’s when you sleep. He thinks you got that from your mom too.

He gently wakes you up when he’s stopped in front of your house, reaching over and unbuckling your seatbelt before petting your head. “Gotta wake up, sweetheart, come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

You groan behind a closed mouth, face scrunching up. “No…”

He almost laughs. “Come on, I’ll help you up and out.” He unbuckles his seatbelt and jogs over to your side when he’s out of the car, opening the door and bodily carrying you out of the car.

The movement’s a little much and you gag, sweat breaking out on your skin.

Leon aims you away from himself just in time, rubbing your back as you puke loudly in your yard. He reaches over and holds your hair back with a grimace. “You’re alright. You’re okay. Just get it out.” He murmurs, rubbing your back once you stop retching.

When you straighten up, he wipes your mouth and his hand on his jeans. “You’ll feel a bit better in the morning.” Leon tells you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and leading you to the front door. You fumble a little for your house keys, but get inside after he kisses your temple and wishes you a goodnight. “‘Night, Leon.”

“Night.” He repeats, gently shutting the door behind you. He goes back to his car and drives home, that sickly perfume smell lingering on the seats like you personally cropdusted them.

Vanilla, white florals, he thinks he smells coffee before it lapses into a sort of acrid smell. Otherwise, perfectly inoffensive on you, perfectly inoffensive to anyone with a working nose, to be honest.

He wishes you’d wear something a little more offensive, strong, something definitively you. Florals tend to be powdery and come off as something an old lady would wear, and that’s not very sexy at all, is it?

Cherry, he thinks would fit you perfectly well. Strawberries. Maybe they make apple perfumes.

When Christmas rolls around, he does exactly that, after skulking around Ulta and eventually asking for perfume recommendations from an associate.

Leon comes back with something strawberry, something jasmine and red berries. He splurged a little bit on a gingerbread perfume, but he doesn’t mind, might as well have something festive to give you.

When it comes time to get the gang together, he tosses it all in a pretty, sparkly bag with blue tissue paper and a tag with your name on it because he’s shit at wrapping gifts.

You cling to him a little tighter with the greeting hug he gives you. Maybe you’re still grateful he didn’t snitch about the party.

Either way, Leon returns the tight hug and gives you a pointed smile as he asks, “How’ve you been?”

You, to your credit, barely flinch, though he can see in your eyes you know exactly what he’s talking about. “Been good, glad to be out of school for the next two weeks. Merry Christmas.”

He clicks his tongue, then disengages and steers you over to the living room and sits right next to you after depositing his gift for you under the Christmas tree. “Merry Christmas. Yeah, I bet. No more waking up at six in the morning for the bus at six-forty. Been staying out of trouble?” He gives you a sly look, head cocking just to the side.

Your eyes narrow at him playfully as you smile back despite yourself. “Yeah. I’ve been too busy with work to really get up to something bad.”

“Ah, that’s the way to keep it.” He slings an arm over the back of the couch, getting up after a moment to get himself a bit of eggnog, your mom’s recipe. “How much do you get?” He asks when he’s sitting down again, arm back over the couch.

And so it goes from there. You get the most of the spread of presents, being the kid and all.

Your mom and dad each got one another something and him some comfy clothes, he sorely needs them.

Whilst he was shopping for you, he ducked into some department store and got your parents some simple stuff. Soap, pajama sets and the like.

You look extremely surprised—and pleased? Leon’s heart might not take it if you hate the gifts—when you pull the perfumes out of the bag. “Whoa. How much did you spend?” You ask him immediately.

Leon scoffs, taking a sip of eggnog to hide a nervous shift. “It wasn’t much, they’re all samples.” The strawberries and cream one was like thirty-five bucks, so was the jasmine and red fruits one; he spent about fifty on the gingerbread one because he couldn’t find a smaller size than just an ounce. “Besides, I make the big bucks.”

Your mom sneaks a glance at Leon, then stealthily looks up the prices of the perfumes she can see, eyes going comically wide before she gives him a disapproving look. “Leon!”

“Yes?” He asks innocently, plastering on the most charming smile he has. Before she can start, Leon shakes his head, giving her a ‘don’t worry’ wave of his hand. “Come on, I make a hundred and twenty in a day.” More, actually, but still.

Your mom looks like she’s going to argue before your dad lays a hand on her shoulder and shakes his head with an amused look. “I’m putting a budget cap on the presents next time.” She decides after a moment.

Leon smirks, shooting you a wink. “Duly noted.” Then, he nods at you, manspreading because you’re on the floor. “What do you think?”

You pull off the caps of the perfumes and sniff them without spraying them, making faces with each sniff test. “Whoa.”

“Good?” God, he’s hoping you like them.

You nod, smelling the gingerbread one again. “Yeah. These are so cool.” Slowly, a smile spreads across your face. “Thanks, I love them.”

Relief loosens his chest a little. Leon gives you a smile. “I was hoping so.”

He stays over for dinner and maybe a little afterward, just catching up with the rest of you guys.

All too soon, it comes time to say goodbye, they hope he comes again soon to terrorize everyone with his extravagant presents.

He spends the most time hugging you goodbye.

You graduate in the spring and he makes sure to actually dress up for this occasion. Someone only ever graduates five times in their life—kindergarten, fifth grade, eighth grade, high school, college.

Leon’s wearing a suit that had a little dust on it when he dug it out of the back of his closet, the collar and tie is a little tight around his neck and he keeps fidgeting until nudged by your dad because you’re walking across that stage.

God, it’s so weird to see you all grown up.

He was one of the few to hold you after you were born before you started fussing for your mom. He babysat you a few times so your parents could go have a date night. He was over at your fucking house almost every other day because your dad wanted to hang with his half-brother.

He’s getting really old. He’s starting to reminisce the way their dad did about high school friends and the like. For fuck’s sake, he’s thirty-five, not sixty-five.

You get a picture from the photographer, grinning from ear to ear. It’s well deserved, you fucking hated high school, he remembers the complaints. Then you go sit back in your spot and wait to flip your tassel.

Finally, all the fucking pomp and circumstance is over with. Here endeth the high school.

He and your parents find you a bit afterward, all of them drag you into giant hugs before they go to the car and treat you to dinner before you get all your graduation cash with a side of birthday treats.

He got you another perfume, a sultry cherry scent.

Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ in the manger in the fucking Inn. Mary and Joseph above him. Leon might as well just go caving if he’s going to hell, getting trapped underground would be so much easier.

Leon has to put on sunglasses when he sees you in that American flag bikini the summer after you graduate, flapping his blanket out on the sand and posting his flip flops on opposite corners.

It’s a little on the nose for the holiday, but he’s more than willing to stand for the flag. He’s much more partial to kneeling, but standing works too.

He strips off his shirt and begins slathering himself in sunscreen because he’s gonna turn into a lobster in less than fifteen minutes, he’s calling it.

Your dad bets ten. Your mom bets five.

Lucky you, you got the tanning without burning genes, also from your mom. You go right in without worrying about sunscreen.

He sits there after taking off his sunglasses and spending an extraordinary amount of time trying to reach his back. Like he wants to be peeling the next time he has to go fight some BOWs.

At some point, you resurface from the water after he resigns himself to a burned back, picking up your towel and laying it around your shoulders to cushion your wet hair. “Need some help? You’re cooking.” You point vaguely at his semi-red back.

Leon stares for a second before wordlessly handing you his sunscreen and shifting so his back is to you. This is a sure fire way to avoid tempting himself.

He hears you snort when the bottle makes a funny noise, then the weird sound of your wet hands rubbing together as you warm up the sunscreen before applying it in broad sweeps around his back.

“You and dad burn so easily.” You mutter, still rubbing in the sunscreen. Your long nails graze his skin on occasion and he fights the urge to stiffen up.

“You’re lucky,” Leon says after swallowing quietly, “you got the tanning from your mom. Certainly didn’t get it from your dad.” His hands bunch up his trunks.

You snort again, rubbing away the last of the white streaks across his back before leaning back on your hands. “Or you.”

Well, he only shares about twenty-five percent of your DNA, that’s why. He learned that after an alcohol-fueled dive—and no less than five orgasms—in the incognito tab. In some places, if both parties are over the age of consent, incest is totally legal. Some can even get married.

He shifts so he’s laying down on his blanket, a soft and amused snort catching your attention. “True.” He crosses his arms behind his head, soaking up the sun now that he’s in danger of not burning to a crisp and missing the way your eyes linger just a little too long.

Turning twenty-one is a big occasion. You can get scratch offs, buy your own drinks, smoke if you damn well want to.

You, lucky girl, get two parties. One with family, one with your friends who can also drink.

Leon comes for the former that takes place the day afterward. Your parents and him didn’t wanna cramp your hot, early twenties style.

You guys go out to your choice of restaurant, then come back and have some celebratory drinks as you open your presents. Some cash, shirts, a new backpack, and some perfume, courtesy of Leon.

He went digging for the really niche ones and came back with one that smells like cat fur, cake, a bit of florals because female perfumes can never fucking escape florals. It was named for the ballet step, pas de chat. Step of the cat. He thought he’d try something out of the box.

You seem to like it, the way your face breaks into a smile. “Thanks. This is nice.” You spritz a little on your wrist and smell it, lighting up just a little bit.

Leon smiles back too, a tad softer than his usual sly smile he wears. He’s been told he has a bit of a smug face. “Yeah, you’re welcome.” He nods, raising his glass to you briefly.

He’s invited to stay over as long as he likes, or even stay in the guest bedroom if he wanted to, he’s informed by your parents as they go upstairs to bed.

Which is why he’s ruminating as he stares a hole through his glass, pondering the beer and the bubbles in it.

Leaving him defenseless to you slipping into his lap.

It takes him a second, but he gets there, eyes wide as he looks up at you.

Your perfume floats over once you sling an arm around the back of his neck, something sweet and warm that makes him want to tuck his face into your neck, your eyes remarkably clear despite the three margaritas you had. “What are you doing?” He asks after a second of just staring at you.

You give him a sly look, head cocking to the side. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Getting into trouble.” Leon’s empty hand lands on your lower back as he leans forward, setting his glass of beer on the side table, his once occupied hand landing on your thigh where your shorts rode up.

That feline smile remains on your face. “I’m rather good at that.”

He snorts, slowly rubbing your thigh. “I noticed. You’re welcome for not snitching to your parents that one time.”

You snort too, bringing him closer with the arm around his neck. “Yeah, I owe you my life.”

Leon nudges your nose with his, starting to smile slightly too. “You joke, but your mother would’ve killed you.”

“I think she knew.” You admit, shifting a little closer on his lap.

Leon’s hand slowly travels up your inner thigh, your legs parting for him just a little. He pauses, eyes flicking back up to you. “Are you sure?”

You nod, swallowing nervously. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

That’s that, then. He unbuttons your jean shorts one-handed, tugging down the zip gently, his grin widening when he sees the bit of lace visible on your waistband. “Planned this, did you?”

His eyes flick up to yours as he gently slides his hand between your underwear and shorts, gently cupping you through it, gratified when he sees you inhale sharply.

“Hoped, actually.” You admit near shamelessly, thighs spreading a little more.

“Well,” Leon can’t help feeling a little smug, slowly grinding the heel of his palm against your clit, “I hope you can be quiet.”

He dips his head down, nosing at your neck, down your collarbone and to your chest as his hand keeps slowly moving. He won’t be satisfied until there’s a wet spot.

The scent of your perfume grows a little stronger and his eyes flutter shut, his not busy hand pushing up your shirt at the back so he can rest his palm on your back.

He increases the pressure and you twitch a little, stiffening just a little. “Take this off.” Leon mumbles without lifting his head.

You tug off your shirt and he groans lowly, hiding his face back in your tits as he sucks and licks at the skin. He shifts his hand, gently dragging his fingers up before gently tapping your clit, then tucking his hand into your underwear, grinning fiendishly when there’s a puddle slicking you all the way up.

“Messy girl…” he can’t help taunting, biting down over your heart.

You whine just a little and he can literally feel all his blood rush south. It’s a surprise he didn’t faint, to be honest.

Gently, he pushes a finger in, cooing with a soft click of his tongue when you whimper. “Shh, shh, it’s ok.” He murmurs, pushing in all the way and waiting a little for you to get used to it as he messes with your clit so you stop clenching, chest heaving just a little. “You’re doing so good, sweet girl.”

Slowly, he begins pumping, making sure to graze your clit with his palm, getting himself all sticky. Maybe he’ll shake your dad’s hand with this one.

When you’re fucking yourself back, hips moving of their own accord, pretty mouth open, he adds another, curling them just until he feels that spongy spot and hitting it with precision. “There we go… that’s my girl.” Leon grins up at you, kissing your jaw as he fingers you open.

His hand is cramping just a little, but he’ll push through it for his girl.

“You’re doing so well.” He murmurs as he lays you on the couch, dragging down your bottoms as one hand slows down just a little. You whine and he clicks his tongue, pouting at you just a little before he kisses it off.

Once you’re naked, save for the bra—Leon likes the way tits look when they’re pushed out of the bra by a vigorous fucking—Leon whistles quietly, planting a kiss above your bellybutton piercing as he lays down between your open thighs. “So pretty, baby. So, so pretty.”

You have to slam a palm over your mouth when his own seals across your clit as his fingers keep moving inside you, speeding up just a little. He laughs, more vibration than sound, at least the way you feel it.

Watching you come for the first time will be seared into his mind forever. It started with the little things. Your chest was heaving, your thighs were starting to try and close around his head, your pussy starting to spasm.

Then, it happens. Your upper half snaps up, your eyes scrunching shut as you muffle what could’ve been a very incriminating noise if your hand wasn’t covering your mouth.

You sag back against the couch, chest heaving as Leon pumps his fingers and sucks you through it, leaning away and gently pulling his fingers from you when you start twitching.

“My poor baby.” He breathes, sucking his fingers clean before leaning up, hands bracketing the side of your head. “Good?”

You nod after a second. “Good.”

He gives you a soft smile, pushing some hair behind your ear. “That’s my girl.”

“I’m your girl?” You open your eyes, a little dopey smile across your face.

“‘Course, you’re my girl.” He leans down and kisses your forehead. “Always have been.”

Leon lives in fear of your parents finding out for at least a couple months. That’s what wakes him up in the night, not just memories from Raccoon City, Spain, Tall Oaks, et cetera.

God, he’d be hung by his toenails and skinned alive. Like when Willow killed Warren on Buffy, but a lot more drawn out because your dad would be in on it too.

You guys are at a vacation house the night you two first have sex.

It starts the same way him fingering you on the couch did. You slide into his lap long after everyone’s gone to sleep, he gets his fingers wet when you guys are in his room.

His room is a little further from your parents room than yours, hence the choice.

He lays you down and gets you off another time to hopefully make this painless, tangling a hand with yours. Only when you push at his head does he stop, grinning like a fat cat.

Leon doesn’t smile when he pushes in, watching you carefully for when he needs to stop and let you breathe.

Slowly, he’s seated balls deep inside you, hands on either side of your head. “Good, baby? Are you okay?” He pushes some of your hair back, relieved when you turn your head and kiss his palm.

“Good.” You reach a hand down and feel around, smiling slightly when he winces.

“Jesus, give me a moment. I’m not as young as I used to be.” Leon mutters, shifting a little so he can spread your legs a little more, hands dimpling the fat of your thigh.

You gasp quietly at the shift and nod, one hand over your tit, the same one he marked when he fingered you on the couch. “Leon…” you breathe, moving your legs to wrap around his waist.

“I know, baby, I know.” He whispers, gently shifting before drawing back and thrusting in.

Your eyes scrunch shut as you let out a soft yelp. Quickly, Leon settles his palm over your mouth, shifting so his weight is on his opposite elbow. “Hush, sweetheart. Don’t want your parents busting in, huh?”

You shake your head, face settling into a blissful expression as he starts moving, little sounds punched from you from each firm roll of his hips.

“That’s my girl.” He smiles down at you, leaning down and licking up the sweat from your neck all the way up to your earlobe, kissing it and hiding his face in your neck. “My pretty baby girl.”

Leon lifts his head up, his face hovering by the side of yours as he grins. “I got you. I got my girl.”

Ah, the praise gets to you, just a little bit. He can tell because you get a little tighter and he has to fight so this doesn’t end too early.

He’s a gentleman, he refuses to come before you.

“Can you be quiet, baby? Wanna play the quiet game?” He chuckles when you nod, removing his hand so he can play with your clit and get you just that extra bit closer.

This close, he gets to watch you pause before your upper half snaps up again, your arms wrapping around Leon as you gasp into his shoulder.

It’s your orgasm that undoes him, his hips stuttering before he fills you up, collapsing on top of you as he gasps, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead as his body to yours.

To mom and dad:

I’m really sorry if I worry you both. Leon and I know you wouldn’t approve, which, for obvious reasons, makes sense.

Trust me when I say we love each other. I’ll still be studying, it’s not like he wants me to drop out.

I love you guys so much. Please don’t be mad.

#mine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you

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moonstruckme · 11 months ago

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hiii! i love the way you wite james, so i was wondering if you could write something with reader getting james flowers and he's never gotten flowers before,,, it would be so cute, thanks bae!

Hi, thanks so much sweetheart :)

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 720 words

You show up at James’ doorstep on a crisp Tuesday afternoon with a small bunch of sunflowers clutched in your hand.

His grin is automatic. “Hi, angel.” You smile back at him, raising your hand in a cute little wave. “We don’t have plans, do we? I thought I was picking you up for coffee tomorrow morning.”

“We don’t,” you reassure him. “I was just around, and I thought I might say hi, if that’s okay.” The wind blows your hair into your face, and you brush it behind your ear.

“Of course it’s okay.” James reaches forward, giving your shoulder a squeeze while he ushers you through the door. You look really lovely, eyes bright and hair tousled from the chilly wind. “I always love to see you, you know that. What are these?”

“These?” You hold up the flowers, and he nods. “They’re for you.”

He feels his heart do a funny little twitch. “Wait, isn’t giving flowers supposed to be my thing?”

You roll your eyes, moving past him into the kitchen. “Don’t be so old-fashioned, Potter. They made me think of you, so I got them. Do you have, like, a vase or something I could set them in?”

James is starstruck. He’s so in love he’s choking on it.

“Or I could just set them on the table, I guess,” you go on, opening and closing cabinets. “They’re your flowers, you can do whatever you want with them.”

“They made you think of me?”

You pause, giving him an odd look. “Well, yeah.”

“Why?”

You shrug, looking, for the first time since you’ve arrived, a bit bashful. “I don’t know. They just reminded me of you a little bit. They’re yellow, I guess. You don’t feel like you’re a yellow person?”

A smile tugs at James’ lips. “I’d be honored to be a yellow person.”

“Well, good.” You blow out a breath that’s half laugh. A piece of hair slips from behind your ear, and you slot it back in place. “So, do you have anything I can put them in, or?”

“I might have an empty wine bottle, or I could borrow a vase from Remus…” he shakes his head. “Sweetheart, could you come here for a second?”

You look bemused, but oblige him, meeting him halfway by the kitchen table. James’ arms come around you so fast a tiny oomph of surprise leaves you just before he lifts you off your feet. You hug him back a second later, pushing your nose into his shoulder, and James can feel the soft silkiness of petals where you’re crushing the flowers to the back of his neck.

“What’s this for?” you ask after a little while, and it’s a good thing, because James was starting to worry he was holding you so tightly you couldn’t breathe.

“This is so nice of you,” James says, voice heavy with fondness. He lowers you back to the ground, but sets his hands on your shoulders to keep you still while he plants a solid kiss on the top of your head. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“James, they’re just flowers.”

There’s nothing just about this. “They made you think of me,” he says feebly, big thumbs stroking lovingly on either side of your face. “Angel, that’s the sweetest thing I ever heard. What’re you trying to do to me, huh?”

“Oh my god.” You roll your eyes, but there’s no real annoyance in your tone, only warmth. “You bring me flowers all the time. I’m just returning the favor for once.”

James smiles at you with all he’s worth. You don’t get it, but that’s okay. It’s enough that you care. “I’m gonna get you the best, most chocolatey coffee in the world tomorrow,” he promises. “And a giant pastry to go with it.”

“You get me enough.” You push against his chest playfully. “How am I supposed to get even if you keep getting me things?”

“You’re not,” he says plainly. “That’s my grand plan for keeping you on the hook. You’re never allowed to even out the balance.”

“We’ll see about that.” You grin as you step out of his embrace, moving back into the kitchen. “Where’s that wine bottle? The next thing I’m getting you is a proper vase.”

James thinks he could get used to this.

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shadowdaddies · 1 year ago

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Another request!! So once again azriel or cassian. I was thinking they’re newly mated but the reader isn’t experienced at all and has never been with another male. So he is teaching her and figuring out what feels good for her while also teaching her what he likes. I love me a verbal man so he’s moaning a lot to let her know that she’s doing a good job. Maybe some wing play and her kissing his neck because that’s just so hot and idk. Love you girl!!!

Hi love!!! I went with Az for this one because I think he'd be so considerate and understanding💜 thank you for the lovely request as always

The Only One

Azriel x f!Reader

Warnings: fluffy smut below the cut, oral f!receiving, p in v sex, wing play, minors dni, not proofread

You ran through the door Azriel was holding open for you, taking his free hand as you yanked him inside behind you. You turned around, walking backwards as you held his hand, a sly smile playing on your lips. Hazel eyes glowed with amusement at your unusual brazenness, Azriel’s tongue flicking out to lick his bottom lip.

Your eyes tracked the movement, darkening as the scent of your arousal filled the room. The backs of your legs finally collided with the sofa, and you pulled Azriel close to you - only to twist around, pushing him down onto the cushions where you straddled him. A dark chuckle left his lips at your assertiveness, but his amusement was quickly replaced with the scent of his own arousal when your lips came into contact with his pulse point.

You smiled at his reaction, sucking harshly on that spot on his neck that had the shadowsinger bucking up into you. Threading your fingers through his hair, you tugged his head back, exposing his neck and collarbone as you licked your way down his chest. Rolling your hips against Azriel’s, you relished in his groans as you pawed at the buttons of his shirt, anxious to see as much of him as possible.

Azriel gently grabbed your wrists, causing you to lean back and look at him. “As much as I’m enjoying this, what has gotten into you, angel?” You blushed, both slightly embarrassed to say it out loud and eager to have Azriel as your first. With a deep breath, you found the courage to look him in the eyes. “Azriel, I am ready to have sex. If you want to, of course. I want you to be my first.”

A scarred hand cupped your cheek, Azriel pulling your forehead to rest against his. “Nothing would make me feel more honored.” Closing the gap between you, you kissed Azriel deeply, arching into him, only for the male to laugh and pull away slightly. “As flattered as I am by your enthusiasm, I want to do this the right way. Not just here on the sofa.” Azriel stood up, leaving you on the couch - his eyes darting toward his bedroom door upstairs and you. “Stay here, I’ll be back soon,” he called with a smirk, practically skipping up the stairs to his room, closing the door behind him.

Fingers tapping your shaking thighs, you waited (im)patiently on the couch for what felt like an eternity until you couldn’t bear it anymore. With a sigh, you stood up and trudged up the stairs to Azriel’s room. Before you could raise your fist to knock on the door, it swung open, revealing a shirtless, smiling Azriel. You drank in the sight of his beautiful form and the rare appearance of his dimples, oblivious to your surroundings until Azriel moved to the side in a sweeping gesture, showing what he had done with the space.

Candles were lit on every surface, soft music playing from a symphonia, the curtains pulled back to let the moonlight stream through the window, the bed perfectly arranged with new silk sheets. A tear formed in the corner of your eye as you took everything in, a spark igniting in your chest as you turned to the male who was watching your reaction closely. “Azriel, it’s... beyond perfect. You didn’t have to do this for me. Thank you.” He pulled you into his warm chest, muscular arms embracing you as you inhaled the comforting scent of cedar and mist. “For you, my love, nothing will ever be enough.”

With that, Azriel led you to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning over you as you laid back into the mattress. You paused for a moment, biting your lip as you considered what to say. “Az, I really don’t know what I’m doing here,” you murmured, nervously studying his reaction. Azriel smiled, unfazed by your admission as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “I’ll show you through it. You just tell me what feels good, and I’ll do the same.”

Satisfied with his answer, you nodded, laying back onto the sheets as you pulled Azriel in for a deeper kiss. Scarred hands slip up your thighs, and you moaned into his mouth as those hands found your waist, inching up towards your breasts. “Off, I need it off,” you panted, sitting up to strip off your dress, baring yourself to Azriel.

He groaned at the sight, wasting no time bringing hands to palm your breasts, watching your expression as he rolled a nipple between his fingers. You gasped, moaning as your hips bucked towards him. “That... that’s good,” you breathed. Azriel let out a soft laugh, knowing how much more was to come as he dipped his head, tongue flicking the other nipple, eliciting a louder moan from you. “Fuck, angel. You’re doing so good. Let me hear those beautiful sounds.”

You blushed, realizing how loud you were being, but as if Azriel could sense your hesitation, he pinched your nipple hard in reprimand. “Don’t be shy, little one,” he murmured before continuing to worship you. His lips trailed down your stomach, and you felt hands grab your hips, pushing you up the bed as Azriel reached the waistband of your panties.

Looking up at you with nearly black eyes, Azriel crooked a finger in the fabric. “Did you wear these just for me?” He asked in a low, husky voice that had you squirming beneath him. He snapped the band of the cobalt blue lace - a whimper leaving your lips as you nodded. “Yes, Az. I bought those just for you.” The sound that came from Azriel was feral, dipping his head as he inhaled your scent, nose brushing your pussy through your underwear. “I guess I can’t ruin them like I would like to,” he murmured, sliding the panties off your legs. “But I will be keeping these for myself,” Az promised with a smirk, tucking the soaked fabric into his pants pocket.

You were now completely bare before him, sprawled on the bed and aching for more. “I would commission a painting of this,” Azriel breathed, before moving to unbutton his pants. Pulling the fabric down, Azriel was now bare as well, and in your eyes, he was the artwork. His striking face, toned muscles, his broad wings all reminded you of a dark, fallen prince - and you were in love with him.

As if on instinct, your legs spread for Azriel as you waved him towards you. “Please, Az, I need you inside me,” you begged. He stalked towards you, shaking his head with a smirk as he laid in between your legs. “Not yet, angel. I’m going to draw this out for as long as I can.” Before you could register his words, Azriel dove between your legs, licking a broad stripe up your center before settling to suck on your clit. A near-scream escaped you as your back bowed off the mattress, chanting Azriel’s name as he continued his assault on your pussy.

As his tongue flicked your clit back and forth, your core tightened, and words failing you, you crashed into your orgasm with a silent scream. Azriel continued working you, adding a finger into your pussy as he pinned your hips to the bed.

By the time he had pulled three orgasms from you, his fingers coated in your slick, Azriel crawled over you. You watched in a daze as he licked his fingers clean, groaning at the taste of you before he leaned down, hand prying your mouth open for him as he thrust his tongue inside, letting you taste yourself.

Azriel pulled away, settling over you as he lined himself up at your entrance. He was beautiful, hovering over you with his wings splayed wide - a rare sight. Without thinking, you reached a finger to lightly graze the vein on his wing, and Azriel collapsed onto you with a groan. “Fuck, Az! I’m so sorry, did that hurt?” You panicked, heart racing as the shadowsinger propped himself up to look at you. With a choked laugh, he answered. “No angel, it felt really good. I just wasn’t expecting it. No one has touched me there before.”

Your eyes widened, slowly nodding as you came to understand. “I didn’t mean to cross any lines, Az-“ He cut you off with a kiss. “Do not apologize. You are the only person I would ever want to touch my wings.” That spark hit your chest again as he spoke, and you found it hard to breathe as he again lined himself up, pushing into you slowly.

The stretch was slightly painful, but the pleasure far outweighed the pain as Azriel settled inside of you, your joint moans echoing through the bedroom. He started off at a slower pace, finding a rhythm as he watched your expression. You gasped when he hit a spot inside of you that made your toes curl, and with a smirk, Azriel held you still as he continued pounding into that same spot.

You were gasping - a moaning mess, writhing beneath Azriel’s firm grip as he thrust into you. You felt that same tightness from before in your stomach, clenching around him as you mumbled an incoherent plea to Azriel. He nodded, “I’m close, angel. Hold on.” But you knew you couldn’t hold on any longer, so in a desperate move you brought your hands to his wings - one along the vein of his left and the other along his right talon.

Azriel came with a roar, spilling into you as you screamed, hitting your fourth orgasm of the night. He laid inside of you for a moment, pressing kisses all over your face as he whispered praises to you. After a moment, Azriel rolled off of you, settling beside you on the mattress. Looking into his hazel eyes, the words spilled out. “I love you, Azriel.”

The shadowsinger stumbled for a moment, shock taking over his features as though he was struck by something. With a bright smile and a slight laugh, Azriel pulled your forehead against his. “I love you... more than I think you know, angel,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss you with a soft passion like you had never felt before.

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xreaderanonaccount · 1 year ago

Text

Punishment (Pantalone x F!Reader x Omega Build)

Synopsis: Dottore may or may not have went over budget by 3 million mora. Pantalone deemed it nessacary for a punishment. That just happens to include you and Omega.

Not beta read, we die like Dottore's segments

RATING EXPLICIT. MINORS DNI.

Content warning: Smut, AFAB Reader, Threesome M/F/M, oral (female reciving), fingering, overstimulated

A/N: Honestly I lowkey lost motivation near the end.

Divider credits: cafekitsune

You sat in Dottore’s lab, enjoying watching Dottore and his segments do whatever they were doing. You tried to ask once about what they’re doing but it was too complicated for you to understand. But either way you enjoy watching them do whatever they were doing. You snuggled into a thick winter jacket the smell of your other lover the 9th harbinger Pantalone fills your lungs. A complicit smile was plastered on your face as you happily watched. The lab was slightly noisy but not too much to bother you, but that noise was soon filled with a different type of noise as fast and hurried footsteps stomped towards the lab. Prime and the segments didn’t seem to notice but you surely did. The lab door slammed open with a thundering shake as a fast blob of black stormed past you, straight to Prime. Finally getting a good look you could see the angered face of your lover Pantalone. His normal facade was long gone as he ripped Prime around pinning him in his arms on the table.

“Ah, Lord Regrator. Now what do I owe the pleasure?” Dottore fain a fake smile as he crossed his arms.

“Don’t take that bullshit with me, Doctor.” Pantalone’s voice filled the venom sneered at Dottore. The segments shuffled away from the two harbingers more close to you. Some are scared and wanting to be near you, and some shield you to make sure those two don’t end up hurting you. You peered at the two between the shield of segments.

“Tell me why you spend 3 million mora without. My. permission.” Pantalone sneered his face inches away from Dottore’s face. If it was anyone else you’d think they were going to duke it out with each other. But since they are your two lovers you have an inkling on an idea on what Pantalone has in mind. The two harbingers sat in silence as they stared down at each other. Dottore with a shit eating grin and Pantalone with an angered expression.

“Well…” Dottore finally broke the silence, “Why not?” Dottore’s shit eating grin grew wider as the hold Pantalone had on the table creaked. Pantalone leaned closer to Dottore where the lips were mere inches away from each other. Pantalone let out a chuckle as he leaned back still pinning Dottore down on his lab desk.

“I guess a punishment is in order.” Pantalone's smooth voice smiled as he let go of Dottore. Pantalone whipped around finally acknowledging you and the segments that were there. He carefully walked up to you with the fake customer service smiles that he always has. He was only a few inches away from the group before looking at Omega.

“You stay, the rest of you…” Pantalone glared at the other segments who immediately knew what Pantalone was saying and rushed out of the lab. Some gave you worried glances but you nodded at them. No matter how mad Pantalone or Dottore is they would never lay a hand on you. Especially not when Omega was standing with them.

“My dear lily,” Pantalone pushed a strand of hair behind your ears, “will you do me the honor and aiding me on the Doctor’s punishment?” The question had you confused. What punishment does Pantalone have in mind? And why does it involve Omega? You hesitantly nodded glancing over to Prime who seemed bored out of his mind.

“I knew you would help me.” Pantalone whispered into your ear, brushing his hand in your inner thigh. Your face heated up by the very intimate act in front of Omega and Prime. Pantalone gave a ghost of a kiss on your cheek before pulling away. He turned to Omega and whispered something that was too hard to discern. Omega had the same shit eating grin that Prime had as he nodded. Whatever Pantalone had said Omega was 100 percent on board with it. You watched as Omega walked over to Prime and shoved him down on a nearby old wooden chair. Prime looked up at Omega, confused and angered by the segment's audacity.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Prime tried to protest before Omega grabbed lab restraints and restrained him to the old chair. Prime looked around confused at Pantalone who just gave him a “friendly” smile. Once Omega assured Prime wasn’t going to escape any time soon. A final touch Omega did was toss Prime’s mask aside. Prime’s crimson red eyes glares at Omega who just chuckled while walking away from Prime. He stalked over to where you and Pantalone were. The two exchanged a nod before Omega walked over to you. You stared up at him curious on what he was going to do. Omega smashed his lips onto yours, hungrily sucking all the air of your lungs. You yelped in surprise as he continued his relentless attack on your lips. His shark teeth nibbling your bottom lip raw. A moan escaped your lips as Omega slid his rough hand up your inner thigh, resting dangerously close. You felt another more gentle hand starting to knead your breast, you tried to look around but Omega had you on a tight hold. But you can guess who it was.

“You’re doing so good my dear lily.” The familiar voice of Pantalone whispered into your ear. There was so much going on that you had no clue what’s happening. Pantalone was nibbling on your ear, Omega relentlessly attacking your lips you couldn’t help but moan in this situation. Omega pulled away smirking as he wiped some saliva that stringed along with him.

“This is entirely unfair My Lord.” Prime’s voice interrupted the moment, you glanced over seeing him pulling against his restraints, a clear strain in his pants as his face was flushed. Pantalone just chuckled, completely ignoring Prime’s complaints. He lifted you up before laying you down on his chest on the long Chesterfield couch. You felt a dip in the couch, looking up you see Omega hovering over you. A stupid smile plastered all over his face, you gasped as you felt Omega’s hand starting to brush underneath your skirt, his hand playing with the bands of your underwear. Omega chuckled as he slipped his hands into your underwear playing with your folds. You tried to muffle your moans with your hands, but was quickly slapped away by Pantalone.

“Ah ah ah, don’t muffle your voice dear. I want to hear all of you.” Pantalone smiled as he started to knead your breast pinching your nipples through your cloth breast. A loud moan ripped out of your throat as both Pantalone and Omega started to attack your sensitive areas.

“This is getting in the way.” Omega muttered as he ripped your skirt and underwear off of you. The cold freezing air gives you a shiver as the warmth you once had was now gone. Pantalone chuckled in agreement as he lifted your turtleneck, bunching it up right above your breast. Pantalone clicked his tongue in annoyance as he ripped your favorite bra off of you. You yelped in surprise and glared at Pantalone,

“That was my favorite one, you know.” Pantalone smiled as his gloved hand cupped your breast giving it a good squeeze.

“I’ll buy you another one dear.” Pantalone quickly stole a kiss muffling your moans as Omega who you almost forgot was there shoved two fingers right into your cunt. Your back arched as Omega pistoned his fingers in and out of you. Pantalone and Dottore may act gentle towards you but they were true sadists at heart. They love torturing you and that also goes for Dottore’s segments as well. Omega continued his relentless attack on your pussy as Pantalone attacked your breast, capturing your lips. You can hear Prime’s panting and groans. He was clearly trying to get out of his restraints but Omega’s knot tying skills were quite impressive. You felt as Omega pulled his fingers out of your wet mess, a whimper muffled as you tried to pull away from Pantalone’s kiss. You pulled away from Pantalone’s kiss, panting as you stared to where Omega’s eyes would be. As he kept that damned mask on. Omega chuckled as he licked your essence off his fingers. He hummed in pleasure as he gave a shark-like smile. You watched as he leaned down towards your clit. His face inches away from it which was fluttering from anticipation. You could hear Prime groan as he watched Omega connect his lips with your clit. Omega’s name falls out of your lips like a prayer to the archons as he flattens his tongue on your wet clit. Your hand tangled into his wavy light blue hair tugging it hard. Causing a groan to vibrate around your clit. Too overstimulated by Omega’s relentless attacks you didn’t notice Pantalone reaching down and freeing his hard on. It wasn’t until you felt something slapping against your bare back. A moan ripped through your throat as you felt his dick rub against you. The slick pre-crum from his dick coating your back. Omega quickly brought your attention back to him as he plunged his fingers into your soaping pussy. A mixture of moans ranged in the room, some from you but mainly from Prime who was thrown forward. His crimson eyes staring intently at you, glazed over with lust.

“How pitiful, isn't it my dear?” Pantalone's voice interrupted your trance, “He’s gotten all worked up. He could have all of this right now, but sadly, he went way over budget.” You practically feel Pantalone’s fake smile from your position. Prime just glared back at him. Before you could possibly protest Omega hit your prostate which caused a high pitch moan echoing across the lab. You continued to chant Omega’s name, trying to reach that high, the coil in your stomach feeling tight and tighter. As you felt like you were about to reach euphoria, a gloved hand ripped Omega off your clit which caused you to cry out. You were so close, so so close and it was ripped away. Pantalone tuted as he rested his head on your shoulder peering to Omega.

“Now now Omega, let’s put on an actual show for your dear creator. Hm?” Pantalone chuckled as he scooted you off his lap. Readjusting you to where you were sandwiching between Omega and Pantalone. Both of their dicks standing up straight, you licked your lips in anticipation. You’re used to Prime and Pantalone dicks plunging into you but this is the first time you’ll be taking Omega’s dick. You felt a gloved snake around your neck forcing you to make eye contact with Prime who now had a calm, dark expression. You gulped as you glanced over to Pantalone who just gave you a smile.

“Now dear, show our dear doctor a show he won’t forget.” Pantalone spoke out leaning his head against yours watching Prime’s reaction mix from calm to lust. Pantalone nodded to Omega who plunged his synthetic dick straight into your pussy. Wanton moans fall out of your mouth as Omega sets a ruthless pace, pistoning in and out of your pussy. The feeling overwhelming, your hands flew to the back of Omega’s neck pulling him closer to you. Even if you couldn’t see him you wanted him near you.

If the feeling of pure bliss couldn’t get any better you felt Pantalone finally plunge his dick into your gaping ass. He set almost the same ruthless pace, but had the timing off. As soon as Omega pulled out he would push in, and vice versa. The feeling is so overwhelming, Omega’s thin but long dick paired with Pantalone’s thick and girthy cock pounding into both of your holes. You chanted their names, straining your throat as the two whispered sweet nothings into your ear. You glanced over to Prime who was breathing heavily pulling against his restraints, the veins in his forearm popping by the sheer force he’s pulling out. You couldn’t help but moan his name, Pantalone smirked against your skin.

“Go on dear, keep saying his name. Show him what he’s missing. This is his punishment.” Not wanting to displease Pantalone you started to moan Prime’s name as the two continued to pound against you. It felt so good, the familiar knot started to form in your stomach.

“C-cum, want- ngh~ to cum” You tried to say but the ruthless pounding made it really hard for you to say anything.

“Hm, You want to cum dear?” Omega smirked as he halted his movements. Whining by the loss of movement. Omega chuckled as he started to bite against your neck. You nodded feverishly, trying to repeat what you said but only moans escaped your mouth.

“What do you say my lord, do we let her cum?” Omega teased, peering over your shoulder, Pantalone hummed as he started to slow his pace. You whine from the lost sensation, the knot slowly disappearing.

“Please! P-please let me cum sir, please” You begged, normally when you're not in this situation you would have argued with Pantalone. This was Dottore’s punishment, not yours! So why won’t they let you cum? Pantalone seemed to have read your mind before he returned back to his brutal pace.

“She’s been such a good darling for us. So why not?” Pantalone smiled as Omega started his relentless pace again.So did your moans, your wanton moans and chants filling up the lab as the two men bite deep into your shoulder. Omega’s bite specifically draws blood. The knot quickly came back coiling so tight that after one praise from Omega had you coming undone from the two men.

“Cumming, cumming.” You stated the obvious, the two helped you ride your high. But as you thought they would slow down their pace they did not let up. Startled and overstimulated, you gasped and rasped a moan as the two continued their pace.

“We haven’t cum yet dear, it would be unfair for you to only have fun.” Pantalone cooed as he grunted. Your senses were so overstimulated you couldn’t help but throw your head back on Pantalone’s shoulder. You just let the two men have their way, letting them chase their high. Feeling their dicks piston in and out of your greedy holes, sucking them whole. Omega moans started to get louder and louder as he reached his high, he gave his hips one final snap as he unloaded his cum all into your greedy pussy. You moan by the weird sensation that filled you, Omega’s cum wasn’t like true come but felt more like fake cum. Your thoughts quickly snap as you feel Pantalone groan as grinded his hips against yours allowing your ass to milk his cum dry. Pantalone gave a content sigh as he dropped his head on your shoulder. You panted as you let your body relax into Pantalone’s chest. Omega gave a small chuckle as he leaned over and gave a tender kiss on your neck.

“You did so good my dear.” Omega whispered. A loud ripping sound snapped your thoughts over to the source. You looked up spotting Dottore towering over you guys. His crimson eyes glaring down at Omega who just smiled pulling out and stuffing his dick back inside his pants.

“Out.” Is all prime said as Omega took his sweet time walking out of the lab.

“If you need me darling, you know where I’ll be.” Omega smiled at you as he dodged a knife that was thrown at his head by Prime. You looked up at Prime who had such lust filled eyes.

“I believe your punishment was suficay.” Pantalone smiled as he got up from the couch. Prime just grumbled as he tried to kiss you but you were quickly pulled up and into Pantalone’s arm, bridal style.

“Ah ah, our dear is tired and doesn’t have the energy to fulfill your needs.” Pantalone gave him a shit eating grin as he started to carry you out of the lab.

“She’s our darling if you have forgot.” Prime practically growls. Pantalone hummed as he grabbed one of Dottore’s lab coats draping it over your exposed body.

“Yes but she’s clearly tired, so good day doctor.” Pantalone chuckled as he left Dottore alone in his lab hot and bothered. Dottore felt his jaw crack as he grabbed the nearest beaker and threw against the ground. He’s going to get back at Pantalone, he knows just how to do so.

#gensin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #il dottore #il dottore x reader #dottore x reader #female reader #pantalone #pantalone x reader #fatui harbingers

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shibaraki · 1 year ago

Text

SO THIS IS LOVE ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO

synopsis: you’ve been dating your close friend and roommate, todoroki shouto, for almost a month. it’s new, and scary, and easier than you ever expected.

tags: GN reader, friends to lovers, newly established relationship, living together (+they were roommates), support engineer reader, pro hero shouto, fluffy fluff, implied class differences, casual affection (plenty of kisses etc), first date!!!, feeding each other, they’re in love your honor

wc: 4K

a/n: this takes place after my other fic ‘to build a home’ however!! fear not! it can also be read as a standalone ^_^ enjoy!

The vanity is littered with pieces of your life. Work you’ve brought home, tissue discarded after wiping down your dirtied hands, old draft sketches drawn haphazardly and set aside for sentimentality’s sake. Hero merch has been hung around the mirror frame. Small things. Keychains, magnets and bookmarks. A chibi shouto hangs on a ring, fist high and enveloped in ice.

Colour hems your peripheral vision, stems cut from a meadow and displayed in your room. Pink, green, purple and red. Shouto gave you a flower bouquet, roses and carnations and others that you cannot name without a guide; one he loaned expressly to learn the language of flowers for you.

The balmy, summer fragrance lingers, drawing a subconscious grin. You see it in your reflection, and you don’t look away. Not that you were unhappy before—but lately you can’t stop smiling. It is ever present, in your tone, in your disposition, in the pleased glow your coworkers liked to point out. Undeniably, things have been good.

Almost too good.

Dating Shouto changed everything and nothing. It was a uniquely embarrassing experience to reconcile just how obvious you had been throughout the years. You had prepared for wobbling baby steps. However, in many ways, it was as if you’d completely skipped the awkwardness all together, and Shouto became more emboldened than ever.

Exhaling, you push the thought aside. Your reflection relaxes once more as the tension bleeds from your shoulders. You’re all done up; donning your best clothes, an almost unrecognisable version of yourself compared to the oil-stained, work-swept appearance you usually took.

Tonight would be your first official date. Despite having been together for a few weeks now, your misaligned schedules and general lack of free time made it difficult to take that next step. You initially suggested setting up dinner at home. Candlelight and wine. Good food and good company is all you needed. As tempting as it was, Shouto insisted on treating you to somewhere proper—

His own words. ‘Proper’ was not your department. You didn’t know what to expect.

But the memory resurfaces, and at the vision of his soft pout, you ease. Things would be fine regardless of where the night took you.

Echoing through the hallway, Shouto’s bedroom door quietly clicks shut. You watch his silhouette appear beneath the crack of your own. He shifts his weight. The knock you anticipate never comes. Instead your phone lights up where it sits on the end of your bed. You stretch to grab it. The screen unlocks, opening onto your messaging app. Shouto’s name sits unread at the very top.

shouto : just now

Here to pick you up :)

“He’s trying to kill me,” you breathe, biting back an affectionate laugh and smoothing your thumb over the text. Filled with a sudden urgency to see him, you get to your feet. You pat down either side of your hips, ironing out the creases and give a last look to the mirror—pleased, beautiful.

Behind the door, Shouto anxiously waits. Fingers combed through his hair, the bicoloured strands have mixed into one another, brushed over to one side. The light glints. Gold studs sit in either ear, warming his complexion. He’s wearing a light sweater and dark trousers cinched with a belt. The sleeves are rolled midway along his forearm, casting light on a thin gold chain that hangs delicately around his wrist below the watch his older sister bought him for his birthday.

“You look really good,” you murmur, moving into his space. What would make an otherwise clumsy first encounter for any other came naturally to you both. Eyes drag over the length of your body. Shouto licks his lower lip, gaze heavier, and he pulls you in by the hips. A warm musk fills your senses. Pleasant notes of sandalwood and cinnamon. Your hands come to rest on his chest as you kiss his cheek.

“And you look beautiful,” he says. “Are you ready to leave?”

“I’m ready,” you concur, voice steeped in contagious excitement, “we’re going on a date”.

Shouto sways on his feet, your body moving with him, and his fingers dig into your hips as though restraining himself. “We are. Our first date,” stepping away, he gestures for you to take his arm. You coil around his bicep. Quiet, he continues, “I’m sorry it took so long to organise”.

You swat at his shoulder, falling in line with him as you make your way through the apartment. “Your needless apology is not accepted. I’ve told you it’s completely fine”.

Shouto hums a small, gratified sound, and then bends to take his shoes from the rack. You move to do the same. As you straighten he is pulling on a dark brown leather jacket, the collar flicking up when he shucks it around his chest.

A clink echoes out. He hooks his car keys through his forefinger and slowly looks you over without intent. “Bring a coat. The nights have been getting colder,” he tells you. You concede, endeared by his concern.

The car journey is mostly spent in a comfortable silence, feelings of anticipation tainting the air. You don’t ride with Shouto often, usually opting to take the subway, thus reclining into the plush padded leather is still relatively new. Shouto presses a button and a gradual heat gathers beneath your thighs. Your gaze drags to the gear stick, where his fingers are flexing. After some hesitation he shifts gears and rests his hand above your knee.

You stroke his forearm. His thumb moves in idle shapes. The traffic thins out when he takes an unexpected left onto an unassuming street and regretfully releases you. Car parked alongside a few others, strikingly expensive, Shouto cuts the ignition and you step out.

A clandestine entrance comes into view. Through double glass doors awaits a polished, minimalist lobby, leading to a flight of winding stairs. Upon reaching the top you realise the building houses a pair of adjacent restaurants. Traditional and Western, respectively.

Shouto encourages you toward the more traditional archway, and intermittently squeezes your hand. Your palms kiss, his skin a little clammy. The thought of him being nervous charms you. He glances over as you stroke your finger across his knuckles and his temperature seems to cool.

“Welcome”.

You startle. A server had approached at some point during the intimate moment, stoic and lingering; dressed in a pale kimono, not a thread out of place. With your attention she bends into a perfect bow. “It’s a pleasure to have you this evening. Will it be a table for two?”

“There should be a reservation under the name Todoroki,” Shouto replies with silvery cadence. Expression waning in recognition, the server nods.

“Right this way sir”.

You trail through the restaurant. The architecture is luxurious and calming, woodsy tones and warm accents. Thick sticks of bamboo hang over the ceiling, and pale structures formed to resemble cherry blossoms overhang the chef’s bar. Most notable is the fish tank behind it, pulsing gently as the filter whirls.

The server maintains a strict posture as she guides you to your table. Positioned in an intimate corner next to the window wall, overlooking a blushing cityscape, streaks of sunlight threading between buildings.

You take your seat and sink into the curved back. An illuminated centrepiece gently breathes, coming to life and casting a glow across the tablecloth. Cutlery of which you’ve never seen before is set out before you. “I will return to take your order in a moment…” you hear from your left.

Shouto voices his gratitude. His focus turns to you as the server retreats. “Everything okay?” he asks, too perceptive for his own good, somehow managing to make it feel as though he is still holding your hand through all this, even with the distance.

You hum, not trusting yourself to immediately speak. The menu is thick and glossy and heavy in your grasp. “…All good, handsome,” your eyes skim over the eclectic dishes. You squint at the small font, mind unspooling at the assortment of food—most you hardly recognised. “What do you think you’ll order?

With the tilt of his head, Shouto’s focus returns to his menu. While he reads through you wonder if it’s obvious that you’re out of place here. That you came home hours earlier and scraped the grease from your nail beds after tinkering with Ingenium’s suit for most of the afternoon.

“Their signature dish, maybe. I’ve heard the meat is good. They make it with an iron griddle,” Shouto’s thumb plucks restlessly at the corner of the card. Voice pitched lower, he adds, “And it’s the only thing I find appetising on here”.

Your brows raise at his admittance. Partly relieved by the shared uncertainty, though more surprised he felt it at all. “You’ve never been to a place like this?”

Shouto gives a plaintive blink. “No, I have. Years ago when I first debuted my father would drag me to places like this to network,” he says, setting down the menu. Sheepishness colours his features, “But I’ve never been here specifically. Momo recommended it”.

“Momo did?” you echo, subconsciously leaning onto the table. Shouto nods and shifts in his seat. “Cool. Has she ever brought Kyouka here?”

A wayward curl of crimson falls over his forehead as Shouto tilts. He brushes the stray hair back. “No, not that I’m aware. She mentioned that her parents often spent date nights here and they loved it”.

You smile helplessly, restless with the urge to pinch and pull at him. It was obvious that he’d put effort into organising this—maybe a little much. He had overthought things in true Shouto fashion.

“Why do you think that is?” you muse, hoping he’ll see your sincerity and hear you out. “It’s because Kyouka doesn’t like… extravagance. It makes her uncomfortable”.

Shouto considers this. “…Do you want to go somewhere else?”

“That’s not it, baby. I told you I’m happy to go wherever with you,” Shouto’s gaze momentarily drops, the corner of his mouth curling up. “Thank you for bringing me here. It’s just—don’t always feel obligated to go to these lengths. Or spend this much. We can save all the fancy stuff for our anniversaries”.

You sit in a brief, comfortable silence, skin warming at the realisation of what you’ve said and the weight it carried. As he studies you carefully in the low light you hear the far off sound of food popping on the hot stove-top and smell a sweet, buttery aroma.

“I understand,” he exhales, resting his chin in the cup of his hand. A smirk teases his lips. “I guess I’ll need to find some other way to spoil you”.

“Shouto. You do more than enough—”

The server is approaching from the corner of your eye. You lightly kick his leg beneath the table to alert him, and he catches your foot between his ankles. There’s a small notepad and pen in her hand. She gestures to the menu.

“Excuse the interruption. Are you ready to order?”

Shouto recites his choice and you choose the same, trusting his palate. “Could we have a pitcher of water for the table?”

“Of course, sir”.

Your eyes linger on his jawline, the flex of his throat. Shadows dance across his face. The live music flows supple and amorous through the room. You want to lean into it; find yourself in Shouto’s arms and move as the rhythm dictates.

“Did you have a good day at work?”

The normalcy of the question catches you off guard in such a setting, and you blow air into your cheeks, embarrassed to be caught staring. He sits with arms folded atop the table to lean closer, unabashedly staring right back. “Work is work,” you reply, giving the routine answer. “What about you? Anything interesting?”

At that Shouto reaches to rest his hand over yours. Broad palm and paling bruised knuckles. He’s cool to the touch. Your heartbeat picks up as he begins to play with your fingers. “I caught a man trying to flash his genitals at an all girls school,” he says, attention drifting as he recalls what, for him, is a monotonous day. “Stopped a train from derailing—ah. One of the students we saved had an interesting quirk. I thought Izuku was going to ask her for an autograph…”

The evening unfolds. Darkness envelops the city and one by one people switch on their lights. It comes to life. You share laughter. You rub his calf and wisps of steam flutter around him. You talk, settling into a natural conversation, a complimentary rhythm, as you would’ve at home. Your once friendship hung lightly between you, an ephemeral thing, lacking weight or gravity. Any other first date experience paled in comparison; this didn’t feel like a first date at all.

Sitting there, now with an empty plate and your glass half full of liquor, a different spirit seems to sift inside you. Uninhibited contentment. The dressed up, high class onlookers fall away. Shouto looks at you over the lip of his mocktail as if you are the only thing he can see.

“A little weird, isn’t it?”

Shouto raises a brow and hums, “What do you mean?”

“Well, this is the part where people learn about each other,” you say. “We already know almost everything”.

“Not everything,” he stops to think. “Sometimes I swallow my gum instead of taking it out”.

“You—” startled, breathy laughter overshadows your reply. You cover your mouth and shake your head. “That’s gross. You’re ridiculous”.

A dazed smile teases Shouto’s lips, “You wanted to know”. The ice in his glass remains, cradled in his right hand, while condensation gathers around your fingers. “…We knew each other as good friends. That’s different”.

You take a quick sip, “Think so?”

“I know so,” he murmurs, his leg sliding between your own. “Now I get to learn about you all over again, in a new way”.

The thin hair on your arms prickles. Warmth and desire seeps through you, soaked into adipose tissue, tenderising thought and thew. “What a charmer,” you say, voice a little thick, seeing the night with new clarity. “You’re right. We just started a few steps ahead”.

Pleased at that, Shouto��s attention falls to the empty plates. “Should we get dessert?”

You consider the idea. It pulls you away from the moment, and everything sharpens in your periphery. Coalesced voices, the clink of cutlery, dulcet piano notes flowing beneath it all. “Not here,” you decide, an excited grin unfolding. “Let’s go get ice cream”.

Despite your protests Shouto pays the bill. You allow it, begrudgingly, since he had organised the date. In passing you bow your head toward the chef working behind the bar, and he gives an effusive ‘thank you’.

“Thank you very much,” another server calls politely, delicate hand raised to wave from behind his drink tray. “Please come again”.

Already too late into the evening, any ice cream parlour would be closed. Even so you clasp Shouto’s hand, bracing against the warmth, and direct him to a corner store on the far end of the road.

The cashier—reclined in a fold up chair, feet propped on the counter and cigarette in hand—staggers, almost tumbling to the floor as he registers Shouto’s identity. Though few, other customers stop to stare.

That feeling of unease returns once more. Amidst the bliss, and mellow, alcohol induced haze, you had completely forgotten about his status as a public figure and the scrutiny that might befall your new relationship as a result. You’ve been linked to various heroes before for business but never romantically.

Shouto is oblivious to it. Rather, you suppose he is used to the scrutiny. You recoil from their staring, and subsequently from his side, your anxious mind assuming some distance might cause them to think twice. In that instant an arm wraps firm around your lower back. Anchoring your hip, Shouto keeps you tucked against him, searching your face for objection.

You chew the inside of your cheek and relent, because you feel better when you’re close to him. The apprehensive and moderately starstruck atmosphere barely tickles him as he rummages through the large freezer. Ice creams and pops of every shape and colour. With a quiet, pleased sound, he plucks out a packet of bite sized matcha ice cream.

The cashier has steadied his hands by the time you’re ready to pay. Shouto deliberately frowns at the cigarette butts on the counter, discarded in an Endeavor themed ashtray. Not on account of any suspicion or disapproval, just simple pettiness. You know that but the poor young man does not, as he continues to nervously explain that his manager is ‘pretty lax about that kinda thing’.

“That’s nice,” Shouto tells him, passing his phone over the card machine. You press your lips thin to keep from laughing. A ping echoes out and the money goes through. “Thank you. Have a good night”.

Confused, the man gives a tremulous smile and nods, “Thank you for everything you do, Shouto, sir!”

Stepping into the tepid night air brings a wave of relief. Shouto releases your waist to pass you your cold treat. Falling into a lazy pace you start back toward the restaurant.

You’ve chosen an ice cream bar on a stick. Teeth sink into it like warm butter, the first bite melting on your tongue. Shouto is eating his delicately with a small pick and at your satisfied moan, he freezes, the next piece halfway to his open mouth.

“I haven’t had ice cream in forever,” you effused, licking the remnants from the corner of your lips. “Do you like yours?”

“Yes,” he replies, strained. You watch him from the corner of your eye. There’s a blush high on his cheeks. Drifting into the car park, he catches your gaze, slowing beneath a stream of light coming from the street lamp above. Cast in a syrupy, honey toned veil, he holds out the pick to you. “Would you like to try some?”

You smile at this, and then wordlessly part your lips. Shouto visibly swallows as he feeds it to you. Sweet earthy flavours harmonised with a hint of bitterness flood across your palate. Chewing, you hold up your mostly eaten ice cream bar and gesture for him to finish it.

Like you, Shouto opens up in a silent request to be fed. You turn the tacky stick between your fingers so he can get to both sides. “Thank you,” he mumbles, gently brushing his thumb at your mouth to wipe away a smear of cream. “For the ice cream and for tonight”.

“What’re you thanking me for?” you smile, besotted. His arms rise to welcome you into his chest. “You’re the one that did everything”.

Shouto squints in obvious disagreement and dips to give you a kiss. His lips are careful, still sweet with vanilla. You feel the soft tickle of his breath to your cheek, fingers carding through his hair as you breathe each other in.

“Let’s go home,” he murmurs.

Arriving at the apartment together is somewhat odd. The air is charged. Where you’d bid any other date goodbye, Shouto crowds into the genkan behind you and locks the door. You shrug off your coat and the thin hair on your nape tingles as he places hands on your hips, guiding you to the side and slipping past you.

Shouto lingers and you wonder if he’s having the same thoughts. “Are you following me?” you tease lightly, giddy at his presence so close to your heels.

“I’m walking you to your door,” he says.

“What a gentleman,” you laugh under your breath. Turning to lean against the frame, fingers wrap around the handle behind your back. Head cocked, you add, “Gonna come in for coffee, too?”

Hearing the innuendo, his expression settles into fond amusement. He cups your cheek. You lean into the shallow of his palm and draw him closer with your eyes. He inclines his face, nudges his nose against yours, and your mouths come together, already soft and open. You kiss for a while, before his lip curls and you both devolve into quiet laughter.

Breathless when he pulls away, you say, “Goodnight, Shouto. Thank you. I really enjoyed myself”.

“Sleep well,” he returns. “I’ll see you in the morning”.

Upon entering the solace of your bedroom, you’re overcome by an urgent giddiness. The energy has you bouncing on the spot, a squeal building in your chest that you don’t release until your face is buried deep in a pillow.

Sleep finds you in the early hours, creeping in amongst your tumultuous thoughts, mentally listing the options of what to do for the second date.

It’s as though you blink and morning shutters in. You stretch, limbs caught in the covers, and shy away from the light bleeding through your curtains. As senses sharpen and your body wakes, the distant sound of pots and cutlery draws your focus.

Your feet drag on the cool floorboards, dazedly wandering towards the tantalising smell pouring out from the kitchen. Shouto stands at the sink in a wrinkled shirt, the hem falling over his red boxers. There’s a slight bounce to his step as he moves, and his expression visibly brightens as he notices you.

“You’re perky this morning,” you mumble, still one foot in sleep, rubbing at the corner of your eye. “What, did you have a hot date or something?”

Hearing the affection in your voice, Shouto flashes a small grin. He slumps against the counter, leaning to check on the rice cooker. Steam curls up into the air. “A really hot date,” he affirms. A smile pulls at your lips.

You notice the two bowls already set out and turn to the coffee machine to pull out a second mug. “Sure there’s enough water in that?”

“Yes,” his puffy eyes narrowed. “I remembered this time”.

You hum, satisfied. Shouto drapes himself around your shoulders and you turn to press a soft kiss to his bare collar, exposed by the loose material of his sleep shirt. The roommate act falls away. “When do you need to leave?”

A warm breath brushes your temple as he sighs, “About twenty minutes”.

“You should go ahead and get ready, then. I’ll plate this up”.

Shouto nods with some reluctance. While he’s gone you fill his bowl and break an egg into it. Adding a little soy sauce and a dash of salt, you whip the rice with a pair of chopsticks until the egg is golden, turning foamy and giving the rice a tender texture. After repeating the steps you sprinkle mixed seasoning over both meals.

You set his coffee down on a coaster as he jogs out into the living room, hair lazily styled and his hero suit zipped to his midsection. “Thank you for the meal,” he says, slightly faster than usual, before proceeding to shovel the rice into his mouth.

“Don’t choke,” you pluck a sticky grain of rice from Shouto’s cheek and eat it. He blinks at you as he chews. “At least give me a few years first”.

The crinkles by his eyes deepen, scar tissue pulling taut. You swallow a hot mouthful of coffee to distract yourself from the way he visibly brightens. “I can give you more than a few,” he replies.

Heat prickles beneath your skin, “No romancing me at breakfast”.

Shouto laughs warmly. And with that you finish your meal together. He departs for work in a hurry, kissing the top of your head and calling out as he goes,

“Have a good day, love. I’ll see you at home”.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader

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corpsebasil · 1 year ago

Text

wait think about knight Nikolai instead of him being a prince. wait— AND CHECK MY MASTERLIST BECAUSE I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS

like—

It would start slow at first, you know? Since he’s your personal guard and you’re the princess of Ravka. But then, two years in, his eyes would start to linger.

Nothing too obvious, no, because he’s too smart for that. Too focused on honor and your own reputation. But maybe one day your shoe fell off while you were doing a wild folk dance with your ladies. Maybe he’d kneel to put it back on your foot. Maybe his hand would linger a little too long on your bare leg, a little too high under your skirt.

But you’re reading into it, surely.

But THEN ONE NIGHT. BUT THEN. And the tension has been high for weeks, and everything unsaid between you two feels like a pile of blankets on top of your head.

So you allow him in your room. You’re only asking for him to take your necklace off—completely innocent. Sure. But when his hands linger, when your eyes close and you tilt your head you feel the softest brush of his mouth against your neck before he sighs, warm air rushing over your skin.

You shiver and his fingers tighten, his voice low.

“My lady.” He murmurs and you twist in his grasp, peering up at him with doe eyes. He looks like he’s in pain. “We—this isn’t..”

But you only shake your head and rise on tiptoes, gratified when he makes no move to step away.

The both of you just sigh into each other when you finally, finally kiss, and his mouth is the softest and warmest place that you never want to be away from.

Okay but then….

Like, two days later you invite him to breakfast and excuse your maids. So when he enters the room and shuts the door behind him, you immediately feel flushed by the laser-focused look on his face. He takes a step forward, you take a step back, and so on until your thighs knock against the small table where food is spread out.

“What are we having, princess?” He asks, moving even closer to glance at the table behind you. Only a glance. He doesn’t even look at it long enough to answer his own question.

“Bread and jam.” You mumble, feeling the brush of his trousers against your dress.

“And?”

“And tea.” More breathless now.

“And?”

“And—” you start but are cut off when one of his arms loops around your waist, one hand into your hair, and the kiss he presses against you—honestly ravishes you with—makes you just. MOAN. INTO HIM.

And if the maids hear the clatter of dishes being swept off a table from outside, if they linger for a moment to eavesdrop—those damn gossips—if they hear you cry out and then your noises become muffled, you know they’re going to cover their mouths and gasp in shock.

#shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #wattpad #nikolai x reader #shadow and bone imagine #fluff #six of crows #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov smut #nikolai lantsov angst

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crazyunsexycool · 1 year ago

Text

My little love

Chapter 26

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x enhanced!Reader

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: just fluff, implied smut at the end,

A/N: here’s some good old fluffiness for our favorite family. A little bit of Fury and Lottie interaction.

Series masterlist

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s beefing.” Lottie says as she takes a seat at the table. She smiles at Fury who stares at her from his place at the front of the room.

“Beefing?”

“She means briefing.” Henry says as he walks in right behind Charlotte. “She can’t say her ‘Rs’ and ‘Ls’ sometimes.”

“Hm. And where are your parents?”

“Mama will be here in a minute.”

“Good, you know kids shouldn’t be in briefings right? There is a lot of information that can’t be talked about outside of the meeting.” Fury says.

“Yup, you talk about secrets.”

“What secwet?” Lottie looks over at Henry curiously.

“It’s like a surprise, you can’t say anything about it.”

“Oh, no say suwpwise. Am good.”

“You still can’t be in here.”

Lottie pouts and crosses her arms while Henry giggles at her antics. You walk in a minute later with a few agents in tow.

“Your dad is waiting for you two down the hall. He said he had something fun planned.” You lean down and kiss Henry and then Lottie before she hops off the chair.

Once the kids are gone and the door is closed Fury begins his briefing.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright doll, let me make sure you’re strapped in correctly.” Bucky says as he looks over the seatbelt on the car seat. He tugs on the straps and when he’s satisfied that everything is in place he closes the door and walks around to Henry and makes sure his seatbelt is on properly.

Steve slides into the passenger seat as Bucky starts the car. He turns back and smiles at the kids.

“Ready to have a fun morning?”

“Yeah.” They both say at the same time.

“What did Y/N say when you told her you were taking them into town?”

Bucky looks at Steve out of the corner of his eye and gives a little shrug. The SUV is already in motion and heading toward the main gates of the compound.

“You didn’t tell her? Are you insane?” Steve is slightly panicking and the kids giggle in the back seat as his voice goes up in pitch. “We are so dead.”

“I’m sorry what’s the issue? You know why we’re going out and I want the kids to be involved in it. They’re with us, plus Nat and Wanda are meeting us there.”

“I’m too young to die. There’s so much I haven’t experienced yet.”

“You’re being so dramatic. Everything will be fine.”

****

Wanda pushes off the car she’s leaning against once Bucky parks behind her. Steve gets Charlotte out of her car seat and Bucky helps Henry. Both of them run to Wanda and hug her as if they haven’t seen her in years.

“Where’s Nat?” Bucky asks as both men walk up to her.

“In the store she’s checking the security.”

Nat walks out to meet everyone.

“Everyone has already signed NDAs and all of the security is good.” She tells Bucky before explaining the emergency exit routes.

While they were only a few minutes away from the compound this was the first time the kids had been outside of it. Anyone and everyone they’ve ever interacted with were agents. They were very surprised as they kept looking down the street. Bucky takes a knee in front of them.

“Ok, do you remember what I said?”

“Stay close.” Henry says.

“No wunning away.”

“What else?” Bucky asks.

“Listen to you.”

“Or Steve, Nat and Wanda. And don't touch anything.”

“Kay.” Lottie says as she takes Henry’s hand. They walk side by side as they follow the adults inside.

“Sergeant Barnes, my name is Victor and it is an honor to be able to help you today.” An older man no taller than five feet with a big belly and balding head greets Bucky as soon as they walk in. He smiles and holds his hand out which Bucky shakes. “Before we get started I would like to thank you and Captain Rogers, you saved my father during the war. If it hadn’t been for you and the commandos who knows what would have happened to him.”

Steve offers Victor a smile before he ushers everyone further into the store. Other than two other employees the store is empty and closed so that Bucky could shop in peace. One of the other employees walks up to Bucky and the kids and leans down to their eye level.

“Hello little ones, would you like a hot chocolate?” She asks.

Henry and Lottie both look at their dad for permission. He gives them a nod but Henry is way too shy to speak up.

“Yes pwease. Bubba habe one too.” Lottie answers for him. The employee smiles and excuses herself.

“Sergeant Barnes, why don’t we sit over here and we can talk about what you’re looking for.”

“Well it’s simple. I’m looking for a ring.”

****

They had been there for about 45 minutes. None of the rings Bucky had been shone felt right. He had even asked everyone’s opinions on the rings and they didn’t really like them for you either. Fortunately the kids were entertained by some crayons and coloring pages so they weren’t fussy.

Bucky was about to give up when he felt Lottie pat his arm.

“Are you ok doll?” He asked as he looked at her.

“Found it dada.”

“What did you find?”

“Wook it.” She said as she pulled his arm toward a display case at the front of the jewelry store. “This one dada. Mama wikes it.”

Victor immediately opens the back of the display and starts pulling out one ring but Lottie stops him. This happens until finally he grabs the set she was talking about.

The ring was beautiful. It was gold and had an art deco style to it. It would have been something he would have picked back in the 40s for sure.

“Are you sure, doll?” Bucky picks Lottie up so that she can see better.

By now Steve had joined him and was holding Henry so that he could also look at the ring. Nat and Wanda were also looking and gushing over the choice.

“See it dada.” Lottie says as she touches her head. Victor looks completely confused by what Lottie’s saying but no one seems to notice.

“Ok, I’ll take it.”

“Do you know what her ring size is?”

“It doesn’t matter, she can adjust it.”

“Are you sure about that? I wouldn’t want her to lose it.”

“She works with metal.” Bucky says and it dawns on Victor who he’s referring too.

“I will box this up for you right now.”

Victor walks away while Steve, Nat and Wanda talk about the wedding and proposal. Lottie wiggles her way out of Bucky’s grasp and looks around at all the beautiful jewelry. After a few minutes she pulls Bucky toward a display with necklaces and bracelets and points at one specific item.

~~~~~~~~

Bucky and the kids walk into the apartment a few minutes after you did. It was a good thing Bucky had asked Nat to keep the ring hidden.

“Woah did you guys go shopping without me?” You joked as you watched the trio walk in with bags in their hands.

“Yeah.” Henry says happily as he sets his bags on the couch.

“Habe fun mama.”

“Wait,” you looked up at Bucky. “You really went out? Did you take the kids?”

“Yeah.”

“Mama, habe suwpwise.”

“Just a minute sweet Angel.” You say as you take Bucky’s hand and pull him toward the kitchen. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Steve, Nat and Wanda were with me. We were out for maybe an hour and a half.”

“But hydra is still looking for them. What if they have people placed in the town? What if someone would have taken them?” You ask worriedly.

“Hey,” Bucky cups your face so that you look at him. “I wouldn’t have taken them if it wasn’t safe for them to go. We didn’t go far and it was only a few stores. Besides, Lottie saw the trip and she knew it wouldn’t be bad.”

“Ok. You’re right I’m sorry it’s just I worry about them.”

“It’s because you’re a good mom. You have all the right to worry about them.” Bucky smiles and leans in to give you a few kisses.

“Mama, can I show you what we got?”

“Of course, sweet boy.”

“I think the only problem we do have is that they’re little shopaholics.” Bucky murmurs as you walk back into the living room.

You laugh as you take a seat on the couch and let Henry and Lottie show you everything they got. It went from something simple like some shoes to a video game console that Nat insisted Henry needed. A few video games and extra controllers so that you could all play together. He even went so far as to get a few toys and treats for Alpine.

Charlotte got a few more bows and extra nail polish for her ever growing collection as well as extra kid friendly makeup. It also seemed that she went by an art store because she had all kinds of painting and drawing supplies. Thanks to Steve you were sure. But what caught your eyes was the little plastic bead kit she had.

“I used to have something just like this to make bracelets with.”

“Can make together, mama.” Lottie says as she holds up the kit.

“Of course we can.”

After that she showed you one or two more pairs of sunglasses as well as a pretty new dress and a purse. Finally she grabbed the last bag which had the name of a jewelry store on it.

“Mama, habe suwpwise.” She pulls out a long velvet box and hands it to you.

“For me?”

“Yeah mama.”

You open it to find a locket in it.

“Oh sweet Angel, it's beautiful. Did you pick it out?”

“Yeah mama, wook it.” She says as she pulls on a chain around her own neck and she reveals the same locket.

“We have matching lockets. I love it.”

“Open mama.” Lottie says as she struggles to open her own.

Once she does though she shows you what’s inside. She looks up at you and smiles as she displays its contents. On one side there’s a picture of Henry and on the other it’s a picture of you and Bucky. She points at yours and you open it. Inside there’s a picture of Bucky on one side and a picture of the kids on the other.

“Oh this is perfect. I love it so much, thank you.”

You bring her up to your lap and give her a hug.

“I got you something too.” Henry says as he gives you a bag.

When you open it you find a lovely summer dress inside.

“Henry, this is beautiful, did you pick this out all by yourself?”

“Yeah, daddy just helped with the size.”

You bring him in for a hug. “It’s perfect and I love it, thank you.”

“How about we have a family date.” Bucky says as he gets up and starts cleaning up.

“A family date? That sounds fun.”

“It will be, Sugar. Meet me on the roof in an hour and a half. I’ll have everything ready.”

“Alright kids you heard your dad, let’s go get ready.”

~~~~~~~~~~

When you and the kids get up to the roof of the compound you’re surprised again. A picnic has been laid out as well as a projector and a screen. There are also a few board games set to the side for you to play together.

“This is amazing.” You say as you step up to Bucky and wrap your arms around his waist.

“I’m glad you like it. Now everyone, go get comfortable.”

Henry and Lottie run over to the laid out blanket and pillows and pick their preferred spot. Bucky offers you his hand and you sit down. Then he starts fiddling with his cellphone until the projector is running a movie. It’s more for background noise than anything else.

After everyone is done eating you move on to some board games. You teach the kids, and Bucky, how to play candyland as well as chutes and ladders. Once the board games are done Bucky shows you that Henry’s new game console is also connected to the projector.

After showing Bucky how the racing game works you all get ready to play. While you and Lottie are happy to just play together Henry and Bucky get very competitive. They push each other or cover each other's eyes. It’s very childish but entertaining to watch. It gets to the point where they completely forget they’re playing a video game and start to play-fight.

“Yay mama!” Lottie exclaims from your lap.

Immediately Henry and Bucky stop their play fighting to look at the screen and realize that you in fact were in first place.

“That’s not fair.” They both say at the same time and you laugh.

“Well if you would have focused on the game instead of trying to cheat you would have won.”

“Wook mama.”

“Look at that Lottie you came in 8th place. Good job.” You say with a chuckle because Henry and Bucky still hadn’t crossed the finish line.

They scramble to get their controllers and at least beat each other but they come dead last. You and Charlotte laugh at their matching pouts.

“Let’s play again. I’ll beat all of you this time.” Henry says as he starts to reset the game.

“How about you two play and Lottie and I will be over here making bracelets?”

“Fine but I wanna play against you too.”

“That’s fine by me. I know you can beat your dad because he’s an old man and he doesn’t know what he’s doing but it’s going to be harder to beat me.”

Bucky holds a hand over his heart. “Me old? You wound me Sugar.”

“And grumpy.”

“No, don’t say that.” He fake cries and Lottie runs to Bucky and hugs him.

“Mama, no say that. Not nice.”

“That’s right, it's not nice.” Bucky gives you a wicked grin while he lets Lottie hug him for a bit longer.

“I’m sorry. Could you ever forgive me? I’d do just about anything.”

“I’ll think about it.”

You roll your eyes as Lottie pulls away and gives Bucky a kiss on his cheek. He murmurs sweet little loving words just for her to hear which make her preen under the attention. By the time she finally sits back down on your lap you have what you need to start showing Lottie how to make bracelets.

“Ok the first thing we have to do is pick out some colors. What do you want to start with?”

Lottie examines the colors before picking three.

“Make fo Steebie.” She says as she starts to grab some red, white and blue beads.

“He’s going to love it.”

You teach her what she needs to do and she picks up on it rather quickly. After about three bracelets are made and a few rounds of video games you call it a night. Bucky sends you back down to the apartment while he cleans up.

****

The kids had fallen asleep rather quickly in Henry’s room. You didn’t even get to read more than three pages of the book they had chosen. But they had a big day so you couldn’t blame them.

The extra time did give you a chance to change into something more revealing. You could hear Bucky walking down the hall and then checking in on the kids before making his way into your shared bedroom.

“Sugar? I’ve been thinking a lot about forgiving you.” He says playfully. “And I’ve been thinking about what you could do.”

“Would this help?” You open the door to the en suite bathroom and step out in the lingerie set you’d chosen.

“Fuck Sugar, you could give an old man a heart attack dressed like that.”

“Good thing you’re not old.” You quip as you stop right in front of him.

Bucky picks you up and tosses you toward the bed. The sudden movement causes you to yelp and Bucky is on top of you before you realize what’s happening.

“You gotta keep quiet Sugar,” he says between pressing kisses up your neck. “Or else you’ll wake up the kids and I want to have a seepover with just you tonight.”

You giggle as your lips meet his. And you both get what you want, a seepover with just the two of you. Once you're asleep on his chest Bucky can’t help but picture when he asks you to marry him. He has it all planned out and he can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with you.

Ch 27

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fadingdaggerr · 2 years ago

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Hey my lovely wondering if I could request a Melissa x teacher reader fic where maybe the reader is at dinner with Melissa’s mum. And the reader and Mel have been together for a long ish time and mels mum asks if they have Any plans for marriage and before the reader can say anything Mel says “probably not ,I’ve done it before” and then that night maybe the reader brings up the fact she’s never been married unlike Melissa and maybe it resorts in a fight and the reader calling Mel selfish anf she storms out and then the next day Mel and reader go to work and Mel pulls the reader outside and appologises and maybe they say they will do a small wedding. Tysm ❤️

picking petals

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: based on the request above! i made very slight changes mostly in wording but i tried by best to stay true to the prompt :)

warnings: insecurity/self-doubt (both mel and r), verbal fighting

translations: mio bambino (my child), qual è il suo nome (what is her name), è una sorpresa (it’s a surprise), tesoro (treasure/darling)

note: this was my first ever request which was super cool <3 very honored to be trusted with y’all’s brainrot. i hope i did this justice and thank u so much for asking

giorgia schemmenti was a tough nut to crack. the first two years you were with melissa, you were close to panic before every family dinner, sure your girlfriend’s mother hated you. melissa had probably spent a collective hundred hours convincing you her mother didn’t hate you, she’s just italian baby. it wasn’t until giorgia schemmenti herself gave you first pick at the famous homemade cannolis over cousin vinny did you know you were part of the schemmenti family. five years and countless family dinners later, and she was still hovering the tray in front of you first. the greatest change? that was when she started greeting you at the door with a mio bambino! and kisses to each cheek, the same way she did for melissa and kristin marie.

and this dinner was just the same, except for the extra kiss on the cheek for bringing the ‘good chianti.’ carmine, tony, and vinny left early to catch the end of a soccer game. kristin marie left promptly dessert, as she always did. it was always down to you and melissa, always staying to clean the dishes and kitchen together. giorgia would discuss the latest gossip about people at the church melissa went to as a child.

“oh! melissa you won’t believe this, that girl… qual è il suo nome… the one who used to have that awful nose ring?” giorgia blurts out, then glares at the both of you for giggling at her nose ring comment.

“elena mancini?” melissa answers through a laugh.

“yes, yes, elena. she just got married last week, isn’t that wonderful?” melissa just nods and hums in agreement, letting her mother continue, “they’re leaving for their honeymoon and he apparently won’t tell her where they’re going, è una sorpresa!”

“that’s sweet,” you say as you wipe down the counter.

melissa weighs in, “sounds a little serial killer-y to me. mystery vacation? hell no.” you laugh at her comment, giorgia on the other hand, does not. instead, she turns in her chair to directly face melissa, staring at her intently.

“you don’t get to make fun of other people’s honeymoons until you finally marry this one,” giorgia points a well manicured finger at you, “and go on your own.”

“ma!” melissa rolls her eyes and mutters, “like i’d ever do that again. worked out real well the first time.”

you can hear your heart shatter inside your rib cage at her words. melissa didn’t want to marry you. she’d said so many things over the last five years that made you so sure she wanted forever with you, the same you wanted with her. but apparently, you were wrong. fine.

you decide to not react as much as you can. you place the last of the dishes in the cupboard while melissa and her mother bicker, but you’re hardly listening. it all sounded like white noise, buzzing behind the high pitch heart break you felt.

for the first time, you were glad to be leaving giorgia’s home. you numbly pressed a kiss to her cheek with a ciao, before walking out the door to the car, not waiting for melissa. when melissa had gotten in the car, she grabbed your hand as she always does. she frowns when you don’t immediately bring it to your lips and kiss her knuckles a few times. the car ride home is silent. the only noise is the low volume of the radio and wind passing the car.

—

you slip your shoes off at the door and hang your jacket before wordlessly walking upstairs. you head to the bathroom to wash your face, hoping the cold water would soothe your pain. walking into the bedroom, you see melissa sitting on the bed with an indifferent look on her face. you just walk to the closet and pull out sleep shorts and a long sleeve, changing facing away from her still.

“tesoro?” melissa breaks the silence. you only hum in response. “are you okay? you’re being very quiet.”

“i’m fine, melissa,” you answer.

she stands up, “bull. you never call me melissa, unless we’re at work. what’s going through your head right now?”

you feel her arms wrap around your middle, her chin sitting on your shoulder. it’s so gentle, so loving. she’s so soft with you, it’s a side of no one else gets or sees. it’s so loving in fact, it makes you realize she didn’t know her words hurt you, that they were dissecting your heart while hers beat steadily against your back.

pulling out from her touch, you turn and look at her now frowning face, “do you even want this?” you gesture between the two of you.

her eyebrows turned upwards, “what do you mean baby?”

“what you said at your mothers,” she looks a little lost, “like you’d ever do that again? cause it worked so well the first time? that’s what you have to say about the very thought of marrying me?”

melissa’s face drops from a concerned frown, to a defensive, stern look. she crosses her arms as she starts, “i didn’t say it was about marrying you.”

your brow tenses, “who else would you marry, melissa? if you’ve had an expiration date of our relationship in mind, you coulda fucking shared it!”

she steps closer to you, “there is no expiration date! all i said was i didn’t want to get god damn married, that’s all!”

you pinch the bridge of your nose, “i’m not demanding marriage! but is the idea of us being married so off putting?”

“you know i love you, you know that,” she needs you to know.

“that’s not an answer, melissa,” your eyes were welling with tears, and it was taking all your strength to not let them fall.

“it wasn’t about marrying you,” she repeats, you can tell she wants to say more, but she doesn’t.

“melissa, your mother was specifically talking about you marrying me,” you’re exasperated at this point. melissa’s face dropped. she ran the conversation with her mother over in her head. giorgia had said until you finally marry this one and pointed straight at your perfect face. and melissa said that.

she watches you walk past her, the second she registers you’ve left the room, she immediately follows. a oversized grey zip up is already covering you, your shorts just barely peaking out the bottom. you’re angrily shoving your feet into your sneakers, not taking the time to tie them. the jingling of your keys masks her heart beating rapidly.

“i love you, melissa. with every cell in my body, down to the last atom. i don’t need a legal document or a big wedding to prove that,” you can nearly look at her, not with the big tears welling in her eyes, “take some time to think about how i might also have thoughts about our relationship, not just you. i’m going to gregory’s, i’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

with that, you’re out the front door and walking to your car. she watches your pull out of your driveway. melissa stands there for a while before moving to on the couch. she stares at the black screen of the tv in hopes she’ll eventually falls asleep.

you arrive at gregory’s apartment building, and sit in the parking lot before texting him that you’re about to come up and you’ll explain later. grabbing your bag of spare work clothes from the trunk, you head in. when the elevator opens, gregory is already there, ready and waiting to give you a tight hug.

—

barbara howard is a very smart woman. so when she sees your car in the parking lot, and not just melissa’s, she knows something this wrong. in the break room, barbara is greeted by gregory while you stay quiet next to him, stirring your coffee with a blank look on your face. gregory only gives her a small shake of the head, deterring her from asking you about your mood.

your eyes move to the clock above the door, melissa would be here soon. you usually drove and walked in together, hand in hand. with a deep breath, you get up and walk to your classroom to prep in solitude. barbara noticed the time and your actions, and may the good lord have mercy on melissa when she finally gets her hands on her.

except when melissa arrived, she was in a similar state to you, withdrawn and quiet. everyone keeps an extra few inches of distance between them and the red head, nearly sighing in relief when she leaves to her own classroom with fast steps and no goodbye.

when melissa’s kids are off at gym, she stops outside your classroom. she watches you interact with the kids, helping them with the science project posters. you had pieces of tape hanging from your fingers and a frog sticker on your cheek, it made melissa’s heart ache. you’d been so excited to teach the fourth graders about adaptions in animals, practically skipping to the art store for poster board and glitter glue. now your smile wasn’t even reaching your eyes. melissa knew she was to blame.

melissa turns to leave and is immediately greeted with the gregory staring her down in the hall. he mouths talk before backing into janine’s classroom. she was at least glad that gregory wouldn’t spread this information like beads on linoleum, it would already be on the news if were janine.

at lunch, she’s dragged by the elbow by none other than barbara howard. “what did you do?” barbara asks as she shuts the door to her classroom.

“who said i did anything?” melissa says too quickly.

“your face! the fact that your little admirer can’t even look at you! what happened, melissa ann? i want the truth,” business barbara was in session.

melissa sighs and admits defeat, “i fucked up so bad, barb. ma was talking about this chick’s surprise honeymoon, i said it sounded like a death wish and ma told i can’t make fun until the two of us got married and went on our own.”

barbara can already feel what’s coming, “and what did you say, melissa?”

“might’ve said ‘like i’d ever do that again, didn’t work the last time.’ somethin’ like that,” melissa looks at her hands the entire time she speaks, not able to meet barbara’s eyes.

good thing too, because barbara howard was in what can only be known as utter disappointment. she knew melissa wanted nothing more than a life with you, but she also knew why she had restraints. but in the decades she’d known her best friend, barbara had never seen her happier than when she was with you. melissa’s words shocked barbara to the core.

“i know you’re scared and hurt from your marriage with joe, melissa. but do you honestly think that little sweetheart down the hall doesn’t know that either?”

melissa keeps playing with her hands, “no…”

“or that maybe, just maybe, you want that future just as much and that’s what’s scaring you?” barbara asks, despite knowing that’s exactly what’s going on, even if melissa didn’t know it yet.

melissa blinks rapidly as she takes in barbara’s words. marrying you didn’t sound all that bad. the idea of being introduced as your wife made butterflies dance in her stomach. to have matching rings and to see one on your hand, knowing she placed it there with a promise to love you until the last star burned out. she wanted that, she knew that now.

“fuck…” melissa sighs, her hands covering her face with shame. barbara says nothing else, just wraps melissa in a comforting hug.

—

by the end of the school day, your ability to keep a pleasant facade was deteriorating. you were stone faced while sweeping your classroom in silence, a ridiculous amount of glitter and strips of paper littered the floor. if you’d been wearing your earbuds like you usually do, you wouldn’t have heard footsteps approaching your classroom. but you did, and you knew who it was. your classroom door shut and you turned to melissa.

“can we talk?” she says, unsure.

leaning the broom then yourself again one of the tables, you nod and gesture for her to continue.

“i’m so sorry, tesoro. i shouldn’t have said what i did, i wasn’t thinking of your feelings about it, only my own,” she started, hoping you’d let her in.

you purse your lips, “and your feelings are…?”

she steps towards you, placing shaking hands on your shoulders, “i’m terrified. last time it was so incredibly painful and i’m scared of that happening again,” her hands cup your face, “but i’m not scared that it would happen with you. god, forever with you sounds like heaven.”

your hands come up to her wrists, resting them there, “i don’t want to rush you, melissa. and i don’t need a crazy ass wedding. hell, i’d go to city hall in sweatpants and a grateful dead shirt if that’s what you wanted.”

“what if… what if down the road you realize this was a mistake? that you want someone else?” melissa’s voice is so small it almost hurts.

you grip on her arm tightens slightly, “there’s never been anyone else i’ve wanted as much as you, and there will never be anyone else. you’re it for me schemmenti, capiche?”

your eyes looking into hers, your voice, the grip on her arms, it’s all too much for melissa to handle. she pulls you forward, kissing you with all the love she has in her. your hands drop from her arms to her hips, holding onto her for dear life. when her tongue moves to trace your bottom lip, you reluctantly pull away, realizing you’re still in the school.

“i love you,” melissa says quietly, “and i want nothing more than to marry you.”

melissa watches your face turn into a big, goofy smile. her heart jumps, having barely seen as a raised brow from you all day. your grip on her hips tightens as you pull her a little closer, “yeah?”

she smiles, “yeah. but no sweats in city hall though, and no big, fat wedding that’ll blow our eardrums with the combined power of my family and yours.”

it’s your turn to press a kiss to her lips, quick and sweet. “as long as you’re the one saying ‘i do,’ i couldn’t care less where we are or who’s there,” another kiss to her lips, a bit longer this time.

her thumbs stroke the apples of your cheeks gently. god, she loved you. and by some miracle, you loved her just as much. even when she was bullheaded and stuck in her own head, you loved her so much you wanted to marry her. it had taken this whole ordeal to realize the two of you were married in every way except literally. anniversaries, flowers on random days, split bills, kisses good morning, kisses good night, ‘our house,’ ‘my mel.’ she should’ve seen it earlier, but she saw it now.

as if you can sense her thoughts, you press a kiss to her temple, “let’s go home.”

the night ended with an empty bottle of wine and melissa asleep on top of you on the couch. one of your rings on her left hand and one of her on yours, acting as make shift engagement rings, promising your heart to hers and hers to yours.

as always, feedback is appreciated and i hope y’all liked this. love ya

title comes from the ‘they love me, they love me not’ thing where you pick off flower petals, in case anyone was curious

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary

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riitah · 2 years ago

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[to be a sorcerer] - geto suguru x gn!reader

WARNINGS: hidden inventory arc spoilers, mentions of death, blood, guns, fighting, and implied starvation, a little cursing SYNOPSIS: ever since the day suguru and satoru came back from their mission to retrieve the girl who was to merge with tengen, suguru has been kind of…off. so tonight, you decide to go visit him in the middle of the night in hopes of getting some answers, or, at least, bringing him some comfort. WORD COUNT: 1.1k HONORABLE MENTION: tysm beta reader “henry rumpelstiltskin III of the nuclear sock kingdom”!! AUTHOR’S NOTE: guys i’m so sorry i haven’t updated in so long writer’s block has been ERYGIUHOJWQEHRUR i hope you guys enjoy this AND OH YEAH THE NEW S2 TRAILER CAME OUT I’M LIKE SO HYPED FOR IT i literally had a whole pre-written s2 first trailer (a/n) i wanted to post but that was way too long ago but anyways here’s a geto x reader story i have sm more BUT IDK HOW TO WRITE THEM including crying scenes FUCK yk i feel like geto’s the type of guy who’d comfort people when they’re crying but never let anyone see him cry but when he cries it’s just really messy and emotionfull you get what i’m saying?? like he holds in his feelings for so long it just comes out all at once and ok i’ll stop now sorry if this feels a little too ooc

You stood in front of Suguru’s door in your pajamas, wondering if this was a good idea.

Is he already asleep…?

You turned to go back to your own room, but upon remembering the few bites he had taken of his lunch the past week, you decided against it. Hesitantly, you knocked, the sound of your knuckles against the wood echoing through the hallways. “Suguru? Can I come in?”

A beat of silence. “One second.” The sound of a bed creaking followed his voice, and just a few moments later, the door opened with a small creak.

Unfortunately, the sight of your boyfriend didn’t make you feel any more relieved. His hair framed his face messily, but they didn’t cover up the dark circles or hide the hollowness of his cheeks. The corners of his lips curved upwards when he saw you, but the smile never reached his eyes.

“(Y/N).” He stepped aside to let you in. “Staying up so late isn’t good for you, you know?”

“I could say the same about you.” You stepped into his dorm and he closed the door behind him. “It’s 2AM, and you have to go on a mission in a few hours.”

“I didn’t feel too sleepy.” He offered you his hand, and you took it, your eyebrows knitting together when you realized just how bony it felt. “And the rain wasn’t helping much. But now that you’re here, it’s a different story.” He led you to his bed and lied down, pulling you onto his chest in the process.

“Suguru! Warn me before you do that next time.”

“There won’t be a next time, because I‘m not letting go of you.” He rolled over so that the two of you were lying on your sides, wrapping his arms around you. “Ever.”

“I think you’re hanging around Satoru too much. You’re speaking and acting like him.” You laughed when he made a face at that statement.

“Don’t compare me to that guy.”

“Just ‘that guy’? He’d be so hurt if he heard you say that.”

“You know what I mean.” He pinched your cheek and gently rested his forehead against yours. “So, did you need something?”

“What, I can’t come visit my own boyfriend without a reason anymore?”

“Not when it’s two in the morning. But I might reconsider if you’re planning to stay the night.”

“Will that make you feel better?”

“Definitely. Though I feel just fine.”

“You don’t look fine…”

“I’m fine,” he repeated, pulling you closer to him and planting a brief kiss on your nose. “Really.”

“You don’t have to lie to me. You haven’t been getting much sleep, have you?”

He stared at you for a few moments, and the pitter-patter of the rain filled in the silence that had fallen over the conversation.

“...”

“Suguru…”

He then let out a tired sigh, his arms tightening around your waist just slightly. “You’re right. I haven’t.”

You brushed a few strands of hair out of his face, patiently waiting for him to continue.

“I just…can’t. Whenever I close my eyes, I see her.”

You took note of his heartbeat, which was rapidly speeding up. "Riko?"

He nodded and paused, trying to regain his composure before opening his mouth to speak again. “It's all still so vivid in my head. I can still hear the gun going off and–"

"You don't have to talk about it if it's painful, Suguru," you whispered softly.

He shook his head, giving you a weak smile. "No, I think it's better this way. I feel like I'm being suffocated." There was a slight tremble to his voice as he spoke, his sentences laced with nothing but regret. "When I do fall asleep, I always dream about the same thing. She dies, he tells me that he killed Satoru too, these people laughing at all of this as if it’s some sick sit-com–” He clutched at the hem of your top, his voice cracking. "Sometimes I can't help but think, what if I had just killed all of them off like Satoru said? Would I still be feeling this remorseful?"

You bit your lip at these words, not knowing what to say. Is there even a correct answer here?

Seeing the expression on your face, the muscles in his jaw tensed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you–"

"No, no, you didn't," you quickly reassured him. The rain had stopped, and the sound of raindrops hitting the glass was replaced with the sound of trees swaying in the wind. "And honestly, I don't blame you for thinking that way. People can be so cruel sometimes."

He swallowed. "Fuck, I'm sorry, I–" His voice cracked a little.

"It's okay to cry, Suguru." You cupped his face in your hands, placing a kiss on both of his cheeks. "I hate it when you hold it in."

He leaned into your touch, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“She had friends, family, she wanted to live–" he said quietly. "And they were clapping, cheering–" He broke into a sob. "(Y/N), I–I was supposed to protect her but I couldn’t–I couldn’t even do that right–"

It was the first time you had seen him break down like this, and your chest ached. You wiped away his tears with your thumb and ran your left hand through his long hair, desperately trying to come up with something to say to calm him down as he tried to talk.

“I feel so damn useless, even now I’m just–do you see this?” He looked up at you and placed a hand on top of your right hand, his thin fingers wrapping around it as if he was scared to lose you, too. “All I'm doing – all I can do – is replaying the events over and over.” He shook his head, his wet cheeks glistening in the soft moonlight. "I'm a jujutsu sorcerer, yet – yet I couldn't save her. I watched her die."

“It wasn’t your fault, Suguru. None of it was, I promise." You could barely hear yourself speak, but you hoped that your words could help somewhat. "I'm sure that she appreciated all that you've done for her."

You didn’t know how much time had passed when his choked sobs finally slowed down to hiccups, or how long you had been tracing circles on his hand with your thumb, but by the time the sun peeked from the trees in the distance, Suguru’s eyes were closed, his long lashes brushing against his damp cheek whenever his eyelids slightly fluttered.

"I'm sorry..."

You sighed at his sleeptalking, making a mental note to talk to him later about his tendencies to feel guilty about showing his feelings. "It's okay, Suguru. You shouldn't have to apologize for anything." You kissed his forehead and murmured a soft “I love you,” giggling a little when you saw a smile form on his delicate features.

Must be a nice dream, huh.

You closed your eyes, letting the familiar warmth lull you into a deep sleep.

#geto suguru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen geto #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk imagines #geto suguru x yn #oneshot #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gn reader #jjk angst #x reader #hidden inventory arc #i'm sorry guys i'm working on crying scenes

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coltermorning · 1 year ago

Text

Since it’s Halloween, my favorite holiday, I’m giving you a little treat (not a trick!). This is a modern Arthur fic that I finished forever ago and will probably post someday if you want to see the full thing. Anyway here is a spicy little scene from it that takes place on Halloween night in reader’s office at the library when they’re the only two left in the building 😉

Tags: 18+, Arthur Morgan x female reader, high honor Arthur Morgan, smut, semi-rough sex

👻🕷️🕸️🎃

“Hello?” a man’s voice rang out, and you nearly jumped out of your skin before realizing it was Arthur.

You checked yourself in the mirror one more time before leaving the bathroom, grinning like crazy as you went out to meet him. He had wandered toward the back office and had his back to you, and as excited as you were to show off your costume to him, you took a beat to admire him from behind, your eyes raking down his back. Lower. He must have been dressed as a cowboy with the black hat he wore and the boots and spurs, but your eyes were too busy with the wranglers he wore, how perfectly they fit his ass.

He whirled on you. “Jesus, don’t sneak up on a…man.” He cleared his throat, his eyes scaling your body as yours had done to him. “On Halloween.”

“What do you think?” you asked, posing, batting your eyes.

“You’re- it’s…uh,” he mumbled, his voice low enough for you to know exactly what he thought. “Shit, I need to come see you here more often.”

You laughed, the sound echoing through the tall building. “Don’t get used to it, cowboy,” you said with a wink at his costume. “It’s not the regular uniform, I’m afraid. Come on, come see my desk.” You took his hand and led him into the back office crammed with two desks, yours and your coworker’s.

“It’s not much,” you admitted, picking your bag up off the floor, stuffing your clothes from earlier into it. “But it-”

You felt Arthur’s hands tug on your hips, making you forget all thought as he pulled you into him. He was hard beneath those jeans, his arousal pushing against you.

“They got cameras in here?” he whispered, his voice rough in your ear. You felt your knees go weak.

“No, not cameras, but…” You pointed at the two windows, at their lack of blinds.

He let out a solitary chuckle before you felt him move, the pressure of him behind you gone. You turned to see what he had in mind, your thoughts reeling with your own feelings on the matter, when he hit the light switch. It plunged you both into darkness as he shut the door, the only light remaining the moonlight streaming in through the windows, how it reflected in his hungry eyes.

He stalked back over like a wolf, his gaze never leaving your body. “Can’t be dressing like that in front of me, darlin’.”

It took everything in you to speak as he pinned you down with that stare. “Or what?”

He didn’t respond, closing the gap between you and kissing you greedily, hungrily, his hands roaming everywhere they could find skin.

In seconds, he parted from you and stepped around you, pushing back books and stacks of paper and whatever else he could before he lifted you, setting you down on the desk. Then his lips were on yours again as his body pushed against you, forcing your legs around his waist. You gladly let him, wrapping your legs around him so you could feel his hardness again, the lack of space between you making you needy.

His hands found your vest, its buttons, as he began to undo them with a fervor that would tear them all off if he wasn’t careful.

“Easy,” you said into his mouth, on his tongue.

This only seemed to spur him on, as his hands worked faster, his mouth briefly leaving yours so he could see what he was doing. “Too many goddamn buttons,” he mumbled before he finally pulled the last free and ripped the vest from your shoulders. Your shirt followed soon after, and his hands kneaded against your bra as he kissed you again, wound tight as a coil.

You plucked the hat from his head and dropped it on yours, noting that it didn’t feel light enough to be made from cheap foam like most costume hats were. It was leather. It was real.

He continued to kiss you as best as he could with what little focus he had as he he hiked your skirt up your thighs. You fumbled with the button on his pants, needing him so badly it hurt. He yanked your underwear down just as you got his jeans undone, just as you pushed them and his boxers down enough to free his cock. He was hard as steel in your hand, but he didn’t give you a second to pleasure him before he leaned over you, lining himself up with you.

You leaned back and caught yourself with your hands, papers crushing beneath your grip. He pushed into you without restraint, making you moan into his mouth. He split you wide before he seated himself fully, starting a pace so brutal and full of desire he would tear you apart with it. He was sinfully long, something that pleasantly surprised you every time, but this was different. This was harsh, unbridled need. And as he rocked his hips into you, you had to fight the need to cry out at how deep he drove, how painfully good it felt.

His kiss got sloppy, so you broke it. “You got a thing for librarians then?” you teased. He didn’t respond, buried beneath his pleasure. You loved watching him let go of his restraint for once, taking instead of giving. It turned you on so bad that you were suddenly willing to forfeit any pleasure of your own just to watch him come apart.

You smiled as you thought of what to say to drive him over the edge. “You like fucking me over my desk, Arthur?” you asked lowly, right into his ear. He grunted and pulled your hips impossibly closer, his pace speeding up and pounding into you so hard you moaned for him.

“Saw this little outfit and couldn’t take it?” you muttered. “Had to be inside me so bad you couldn’t wait, had to take me right here?”

His pace faltered, just barely. “Fuck,” he mumbled, his voice so shot through with pleasure you felt yourself tighten around him.

With this he leaned you back. He lowered you onto the desk before he straightened, setting a brutal pace and an even more brutal angle that had your mouth open wide with pleasure. He gripped your hips so hard it hurt and slammed into you, and as close as you could tell the man was, you were suddenly fighting back your own high, wanting this to be about him. But you couldn’t help it—he was hitting a spot so perfectly deep within you that you would be reaching your end in seconds.

“Arthur,” you whined, reaching for him, clinging to his arms. His breathing grew labored and rattled through him with that word, and when you were close enough to be straining every muscle in your body, you felt his thumb come down on your clit. You cried out from the sharp pressure and came, clenching down on him as he fucked you through it.

Within seconds, he lost it, coming inside of you with a deep groan of his own. You could only lay there and attempt to breathe—think—again, watching him. He was so goddamn attractive like that, prone and spent. All yours.

His chest heaved with each breath, and he finally met your eyes, smirking when he saw his hat on your head. He leaned over you and kissed you sweetly, lifting you back up as he pulled out of you.

👻🕷️🕸️🎃

Sorry it ends a little abruptly but there’s more to the story that I don’t wanna spoil just yet. Hope you liked it and Happy Halloween! 🧡🖤

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #high honor arthur morgan #rdr2 arthur morgan #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #fanfic #writing #nsft #lemon fanfic

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chicgeekgirl89 · 7 months ago

Text

Chapter 10 is up now! Just in time for your Tarlos anniversary reading!

This is the best night of his life.

If you’d told him a year ago that the best night of his life would look like this, hanging with his friends and a hot guy at a honky-tonk, followed by a little bathroom fooling around with the same hot guy, he’s not sure he would have believed you. It’s a far cry from his last relationship. Alex never would have wanted to hang out with his friends instead of alone. And it would have been dinner at some swanky place with tiny portions, not nachos at a honky-tonk.

The bathroom stuff might still have happened, but it wouldn’t have been nearly as fun. T.K.’s entire body is still tingling with the feeling of pressing up against Carlos. Carlos who is driving through the Austin night with only one hand on the wheel, which is hot as fuck.

“So your team is cool,” Carlos says.

“They’re great,” T.K. tells him. “Coming here to Austin was really hard. They made it easier. I never have to worry whether or not they’ve got my back. They always do.”

“That’s amazing,” Carlos says. “I’m glad you have them.”

“Me too.” God is he so grateful. This year has changed his life. And sitting here in this car…it feels like he’s been given a gift. A second chance. An opportunity to keep himself on the right track once and for all.

He’s never been so determined not to fuck something up.

They pull up to Carlos’ condo and Carlos cuts the engine. “Any sisters or moms hiding in there this time?” T.K. asks.

“They’d better not be,” Carlos says with a laugh as they get out of the car.

“You sure? They’re always here when I come by. I thought maybe they just came standard with the place like the shower and the kitchen sink.”

“If they’re here I’ll kick them out and lock the door behind them,” Carlos says.

“They don’t have keys?”

Carlos pauses with his hand on the doorknob. “Okay, that could be a problem.”

T.K. hooks a finger through Carlos’ belt loop. “I’m willing to risk it if you are.”

He presses a kiss to Carlos’ lips and he means it to be quick, just a reassuring peck, but Carlos immediately melts against him, sliding a hand into the small of his back to pull him close and mold their bodies together.

Okay, yes, he’d told his therapist that this thing with Carlos wasn’t just about sex. That he wasn’t going into the date expecting it. But they’re two consenting adults. If it happens organically…there’s nothing wrong with that, right? And really Carlos was the one who suggested they leave the honky-tonk. T.K. is just along for the ride.

“If this is what I get for ten minutes in a bathroom, I can’t wait to see what happens next,” T.K. mumbles against his lips.

“Me neither,” Carlos says. He pulls back a bit, caressing T.K.’s cheek and shoving his fingers into his hair. “Come on.”

He opens the door and they move inside, slightly awkwardly as T.K. is still attached to Carlos’ belt loop and not super interested in letting go. As soon as the door is closed Carlos turns around and crowds him up against it. He stares intensely at T.K.’s face. “What are you doing to me T.K. Strand?” he asks, so softly T.K. wonders if he even meant to say it out loud. “I have never in my life let a man put his hand down my pants in a dirty bathroom.”

“I’m honored to be your first,” T.K. teases. “It’s kind of a right of passage.”

Those dark eyes study him again and T.K. wants to drown inside them, to find out all of Carlos’ secrets, to open him up, and make him feel things he’s never felt before. He wants to know what every quirk of his lips and every flicker of his eyelashes mean. He wants to take this kind, calm, collected man and find out what he’s like when he loses control.

And he really, really wants to see what’s under all those clothes.

“Mmm,” Carlos hums and strokes a thumb across his cheek, sending a thrill down T.K.’s spine. “As great as that was, I think we can probably do a little better here.”

“Oh definitely,” T.K. agrees and then they’re kissing again and god, why does it feel like his body already knows Carlos’? This is not the awkward kissing of practical strangers. It’s warm and inviting and intense, like they’ve been doing this all their lives.

“My bed is upstairs,” Carlos says when they pause for a breath.

“Are we going to make it that far?” T.K. asks, rocking his hips forward a little so they rut against Carlos’. That move got him exactly what he wanted earlier and he grins as Carlos instinctively leans into the motion.

“Um,” Carlos looks like he’s struggling to think clearly through what T.K.’s doing to him. “My sister was right. My couch actually isn’t that comfortable.”

T.K. snorts. “Bed it is then.”

Carlos takes his hand and tows him up the stairs, past the masks hanging on the wall that T.K. has a lot of questions about. He bites his tongue. He wants Carlos’ body now. There will be time to ask him about his decor choices later.

Carlos’ bedroom is decorated in the same dark, monochromatic colors as the rest of the condo. He turns on the light and then stands nervously in the center of the room. “So,” Carlos says. “This is it. Bathroom is through that door if you need it. Do you want something to drink? I should have asked while we were downstairs—“

“Carlos?”

“Yeah.”

“Stop being so polite.” T.K. takes two steps toward him and grabs his face in both hands, kissing him to shut him up.

Carlos responds the same way he has all the other times, opening his mouth and inviting T.K. inside the second their lips meet. God damn. Carlos wasn’t bluffing in those initial texts he sent. He is a fucking amazing kisser.

Carlos works the buttons on T.K.’s shirt as he backs him toward the bed, while T.K. busies his own hands with Carlos’ belt, whipping it off with now practiced ease. As soon as he drops it to the floor he yanks Carlos’ shirt free of his pants and shoves his hands underneath, fingertips gliding over Carlos’ stomach and back.

The back of his knees hit the edge of the bed and they break apart for a second to start pulling off clothes. T.K. tosses his shirt into the unknown corners of Carlos’ bedroom and then fumbles to get his jeans undone and down his hips.

As soon as he’s down to his boxer briefs he watches Carlos work on his own clothes. A delighted smile touches his lips as Carlos does a little wiggle to remove his jeans. It’s freaking adorable and as they slide down his legs T.K. takes a moment to look and admire, to discover where his fantasies end and reality begins. Turns out, nothing in T.K.’s fantasies prepared him for seeing Carlos’ body in real life.

The dim light of the bedroom seems to sharpen the lines of his pecs and stomach. Everything about him is gorgeous, smooth brown skin and muscle, like he’s been sculpted by a great European artists. T.K. can’t wait to touch every part of him and learn what he feels like between his hands.

He doesn’t even track on the fact that Carlos has been looking back at him with equal intensity until he speaks. “God, you’re really beautiful,” he says and it sends an oddly sharp pang of something through T.K.’s heart.

No one has ever called him beautiful before.

They’ve told him he’s good, that they want him, he’s so hot, perfect, to keep going, to never stop. All the things you say to someone in the throes of passion to ensure it doesn’t end. But no one has ever looked at his body the way Carlos is; like it’s something to be treasured.

It makes him feel oddly uncertain and shy.

Carlos’ gaze drops to the spot directly over T.K.’s heart and he knows Carlos is looking at the scar from the bullet that nearly ended his life a year ago. He nods toward it. “Is that…?”

T.K. glances down, a little self conscious. “Yeah. That’s where the bullet went in.”

Carlos looks up and meets his eyes. “Can I?”

T.K. nods, his heart doing an anxious fluttery thing as Carlos’ fingers brush gently over the puckered skin. His hand splays over T.K.’s heart, his thumb rubbing slowly back and forth over the scar. “I could have lost you before I even met you,” he says.

T.K. has never felt this kind of pull toward another human being before, and it’s a little terrifying. Like if they take this step, he’s not sure he’ll ever be the same. “That would have been a tragedy,” he says, instinctively trying to lighten the heaviness of this moment. “You haven’t even seen my ass yet. It’s spectacular.”

Carlos snorts. “Well we should probably do something about that.” His free hand wraps around T.K.’s right bicep in a possessive, but not uncomfortable grip.

“Yes, we should officer,” T.K. teases.

Carlos’ body seems to instinctively rock into his at those words and T.K. smiles in delight. “Oh officer?” he says again. “Is that what does it for you? Is that what turns you on?”

“Not usually,” Carlos says, his voice a little strained. “But uh, for some reason when you say it, it’s really working for me.”

“Good to know,” T.K. says, filing that away to use as a weapon in the future.

Carlos nudges him backward and T.K. sinks down onto the bed, sliding back a little as Carlos follows him and straddles his hips. He reaches out, cradling the back of Carlos’ neck to pull him close, letting the kiss be soft and slow. He’s such a fan of hard and hot and fast, but this moment has been so long in the making that he wants to savor it.

He lets his hands roam, tracing his fingers over miles of smooth skin and firm muscle, a contrast to the softness of Carlos’ tongue as it slides against his own. The noise Carlos made in the bathroom flits through T.K.’s brain and he becomes determined to draw it out of him again, so he grabs Carlos’ ass and Carlos groans into him, the sound vibrating down T.K.’s throat, into his lungs, until it resonates through his whole body.

Where T.K.’s hands can’t seem to stop their exploration, Carlos’ are steady, one gripping into T.K.’s hip, keeping him anchored, while the other slides its way through his hair. He tightens it, just enough that it drives T.K. a little crazy, and then grinds his hips down and now T.K. is the one letting out a grunt of pleasure as a shower of sparks shoots through his groin.

He breaks the kiss sharply. “Do that again,” he demands and Carlos obliges, the sparks intensifying as the weight of Carlos’ body presses into him. “God you feel amazing,” T.K. murmurs as Carlos moves his lips to T.K.’s neck, teeth scraping over his pulse point.

“Tell me what you want,” Carlos breathes.

“I want,” T.K. sucks in a breath, his mind going fuzzy as Carlos nips into his skin, “ah, god, Carlos. I want your hands. Your mouth. Just, god, don’t stop.”

“You want me to make you feel good?” Carlos mumbles the words into the softness of his shoulder, no longer kissing really, just sliding his lips inch by inch across T.K.’s chest like he did in the honky-tonk bathroom.

T.K.’s back arches as Carlos licks over his nipple “Yes,” he squeaks out.

Carlos sits up, his eyes raking down T.K.’s body and T.K. finds himself holding his breath in anticipation as his gaze travels lower and lower and finally lands on T.K.’s boxer clad groin. He smirks. “I think you’re already feeling pretty good.”

“Carlos.” T.K. grinds it out, squirming a little, desperate for Carlos to touch some part of him again.

Carlos bites his lip, his index finger tracing a path between the band of T.K.’s underwear and his bellybutton. His touch is featherlight and T.K. can hardly breathe because of it. “I bet we can make you feel even better though.”

He makes very, very good on that statement over the next hour. And T.K. does his best to return the favor in equally spectacular fashion.

“You’re really good at that,” Carlos says when they’ve both finished, his body soft and pliant underneath where T.K. is laying across his chest.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” T.K. says. He pushes up onto his elbow and sloppily mouths his way along the pink line of still healing tissue that runs jaggedly across Carlos’ rib cage. “I should probably get going.”

“You can stay,” Carlos says, readjusting himself a little bit to get more comfortable. “I’d like it if you stayed.”

T.K. closes his eyes and lets those words settle on his heart. He’s never had a guy ask him to stay over on the first night. It all feels like a little too much. In a good way. But a way he needs time to process.

“I promised my dad I’d be home,” he says. “But thanks for asking.”

“Maybe next time?”

T.K. props himself up and grins lazily at Carlos. “Next time? We’ve barely even finished this time and you’re asking for a next time?”

“You have to ask for what you want, right?” Carlos says, matching his grin. “That was amazing and you know it. It deserves a repeat performance.”

T.K. laughs. “Okay. Maybe next time.”

It takes a lot of effort to get up and dressed. It also takes a long time because they both keep stopping to kiss and touch just a little more. It’s so tempting to say fuck it and fall back into bed, but T.K. knows he could use the space.

Having sex is one thing. Making himself at home here is entirely another. He is definitely not ready for that yet. He needs some time to think about what just happened and the incredibly intense feelings that came along with it or he’s going to freak out.

And he really doesn’t want to freak out about this.

“Let me drive you,” Carlos says for the third time as they head downstairs.

“Carlos, I already called an Uber,” T.K. tells him. “It’s fine.”

“It’s late,” Carlos argues. “What if the Uber driver is sketchy?”

T.K. turns around and taps his chest. “Then investigate my murder with all your cop powers and don’t stop until you’ve solved it.”

Carlos looks unconvinced and T.K. chuckles. “If you knew how many sketchy cab drivers I survived in New York you wouldn’t be the least bit worried. I can get myself home. I promise.”

Carlos sighs. “Fine. Okay. Text me when you get there though.”

“Will do.”

He checks his phone and sees the Uber pulling up outside. “My ride’s here.”

He kisses Carlos one last time and then turns to go.

“Wait.” Carlos catches his hand. “This um…this wasn’t a one time thing, right? You’re not going to leave here and ghost me?”

T.K. gives him a soft smile. “Three months of trying to get to tonight? You’re going to have to work really hard to get rid of me.”

Carlos echoes the smile with his own. “Good.”

It’s after one am by the time T.K. slides tiredly out of his Uber and opens the front door of his dad’s house. He slips off his shoes and tiptoes quietly into the kitchen, stepping carefully over Buttercup’s sleeping form on the floor.

“Evening son.”

“Holy fuck!” T.K. drops the water bottle he’d just grabbed from the fridge and claps a hand over his heart. “Dad! Jesus!”

Owen Strand is standing on the other side of the island looking far too put together for one in the morning.

“Oh my god, never do that again,” T.K. says, massaging his chest in an attempt to slow down his panicking heart.

“What? Greet my son when he sneaks in after midnight looking like he’s just had quite the roll in the hay?” Owen asks.

He glares at his dad in the soft glow of the under cabinet lighting. “Were you waiting up for me? I’m not a teenager with a curfew anymore Dad.”

“I wasn’t waiting up,” Owen says. “Well. Not intentionally. You’ll understand someday when you have a kid. I take it the date went well?”

“Yeah, it was great actually,” T.K. says, popping the cap off the bottle and taking a long drink. “Carlos is…he’s everything I thought he was. More actually.”

“Mhm, glad to hear it,” Owen says. “I assume you were safe? Don’t need any little T.K. juniors running around Austin anytime soon.” He smiles at his stupid joke, clearly pleased with himself.

T.K. rolls his eyes. “At the risk of sounding like a petulant teenager, that’s none of your business. But yes, of course we were careful.”

“Great!” Owen says with a smile. “I look forward to hearing all about it in the morning. Now get to bed. You need your beauty rest or that hot cop isn’t going to want to kiss you anymore.”

“Dad!”

#Tarlos #911 Lone Star #911lsfic #Tarlos Fic #Thirst Trap Thursday

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lottiecrabie · 2 years ago

Note

Pfms Matty getting into a fight over girlies honor (maybe someone called her a prude for not putting out for them or smth) and he’s all bloody and she’s just *heart eyes*

no bc they’ve had their secret love affair but it’s ended somewhat terribly and heartbroken. now she’s seeing this guy that’s on paper perfect for her— some popular jock guy with a colgate smile. and matty is fine with that! whatever! if she’s happy with little ken then that’s all good to him!

they’re at the same party and no it Doesn’t hurt to see her nurse some sparkling wine and fade into the background, knowing full well that her first party, her first time getting drunk, her first sip of wine outside of church was with Him. and that when they were together — he uses it in the broadest terms, of course, because they never really were together — she would dance and laugh and chat. she’d thrown her head back with a giggle, snort into her solo cup, maybe even steal a puff or two of his cigarette and blow it in his face cheekily. take his hand and drag him to the upstairs bathroom and kiss his face off. whatever. he doesn’t care.

but he’s watching her and he’s starting to notice that dickhead’s hand around her waist and how he keeps Tugging her into him even when she slides away, keeps pressing his fingers into her ribs. notices the crisp smile she gives to his worshiping crowd gathering around him like he’s some sort of god. the way she flinches.

matty gets closer to them just to see. he waits around even when everyone else has left them alone, suffers through the disgusting wet sounds they make when they kiss. at least he’s safe in the knowledge that she doesn’t moan for that loser like she did for him. from the side glances he torturously allows himself, she barely even touches him except for a perfunctory hand on his shoulder, practically leaning away from him as he crowds her.

then he hears it. ‘i want you’ and ‘baby i need you’ and ‘you look so fucking pretty’. matty gags. but he keeps going ‘it’s painful’ and ‘i can’t wait’ and ‘cmon babe, at least your mouth’. matty sees red. his fingers dig around his beer. she says ‘no, tom. you know i’m not ready yet’. there’s some shitty side of him that’s elated to hear the words— she hasn’t been with anyone since him. isn’t ready for tom, but was so fucking ready to ride matty in his dirty car parked behind the school.

but then that asshole gets mad, like the fucking shit he is. ‘when will you be ready, huh?’ and ‘it’s been forever’ and ‘a guy has needs’ and ‘this is why you don’t date virgins’ and ‘you’re just such a fucking prude’.

matty’s pushing him away from her before he’s even aware he’s moved. ‘don’t fucking talk to her like that,’ he says, which tom obviously snorts at. ‘what’s your fucking problem? this is between us’. matty rises his eyebrows, ‘yeah?’ and punches him.

now, tom is taller and more athletic than matty. but he’s never been in a real fight, and matty doesn’t fight fair. he’s got him down on the floor, groaning in pain. matty stands up from him, his own ribs surely bruises, lip bleeding, a black eye coming on the way.

he turns to her, half in apology for involving himself like this, for being a reckless guy she can’t depend on. for being him. he expects some sort of horror, or anger, or plain disgust. instead, she gives him the same look she used to give him. the one when he knew she was about to find a ridiculous lie no one would ever contest because good church girl had said it, all to sneak him into some closet and jump his bones. thrill runs up his spine.

‘this has to stop,’ she said, crying. ‘we can’t— i can’t—‘ she shook her head, sniffling. ‘i’m sorry.’

it’s not a good idea. matty turns away, eyes fleeing her like he’s been burned. he steps over tom, walking to the door, rustling his jacket for a pack of cigarettes. he hopes the smell won’t remind him of her. hopes she’ll stop haunting him.

the door closes behind her. muted awful pop music follows him down the street.

#i used to suck at blurbs but why is this one kinda slay🕺#pray for my soul #ask #blurb

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vynssweater · 2 years ago

Text

An Evening Dance

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“ 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 . . “

♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

⌣ ‿ ‿ ‿ ‿ ‿ ‿ ⌣

┆ ┆ ┆ ┆⋆

┆ ┆ ┆જ ✾

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

┆彡

It had been a long week of nonstop work. You were busy at the law firm with cases, with both the special ones and the regular ones mixed in. Your boyfriend, Vyn, was also busy at his mental health research center all week. You were both exhausted. It was now a Friday night with you staying at his home. You were in his room after changing into some pajamas in the bathroom, which was now occupied by him doing the same. His bedroom’s green walls were familiar as well as all the landscape paintings decorating it. Walking to his shelves decorated with a variety of books, you stand to the shelf next to his phonograph that was filled with old vinyl records he’s steadily collected.

Your fingers delicately flipped through each one, noticing many of them were classical music instrumentals or some albums from the 70s. It wasn’t all that surprising to you considering many things of Vyn’s had an antique and elegant aura to it. It was a very unique taste in a place like Stellis.

You only look away from the collection when you hear the bathroom door open and see your boyfriend come out of it dressed in his night attire. He looked ready for bed, but he noticed what you were looking at and smiled. “Did any peak your interest?” He asked while walking over to where you were.

“I don’t recognize a lot of these.. They’re older than we are.” You giggled, earning one from him in return as he nodded and pulled out one of the records. He soon spoke up. “We both had a long week of work, so how about we unwind a little?” He suggested while slipping the record from its cover.

You tilted your head in curiosity as Vyn delicately placed the large black disk on the phonograph, raising the arm and allowing the needle to rest in the grooves that played the music when spun. Soon the soft melodies of an orchestra filled the room, fitting its atmosphere perfectly. He turned to you afterward and offered a hand toward you with a soft smile. “Would you give me the honor of sharing a dance?”

Your face blossomed with warmth as he took your hand and pulled you close. Your hands stayed connected while his other went to your waist and your other free hand rested on his bicep. In slow movements, you moved in a circle between the white piano and the phonograph. It really did feel like you were at a ball with him. You were lost in his starry gold eyes as it continued.

Vyn was quite good at this, despite you not sure when he would be able to learn to dance this way. You were a bit clumsy, but he held you. He didn’t mind your trip ups and mishaps, just smiling in soft amusement instead. You don’t know how long you danced or how long that side of the record was. Time seemed to slow for you both to find a moment to enjoy each other’s company. The music faded more as all your focus stayed on him and his gorgeous features. You only remembered reality when the needle found the end of the disk and played a soft static in response.

Vyn gently placed a kiss on your lips, slowly releasing you now that it was done. “Thank you for the dance, my love.” He smiled affectionately before he retrieved the record and delicately placed it back in its cover. You walked up behind him, hugging him and feeling his pajamas slowly with your face buried into his back.

“Can you show me another one tomorrow night?”

“I can show you as many as your heart desires to hear with me.”

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

One of my favorite things about Vyn is the fact he collects vinyl records, cause I do it. I just imagine a huge shelf full of them in his room. I’m so jealous-

I had to write SOMETHING about it. I need it to exist somewhere. I just really liked the thought of dancing in pajamas to a record. After this I’m about to go put one of mine on cause I just really liked this little scene in my head- hope you enjoyed it too!

ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ

#tears of themis #fanfic #fanfiction #vyn x reader #vyn ritcher x reader #vyn richter #tears of themis vyn #i am so in love #tot vyn

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swan-of-sunrise · 2 years ago

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A Spellbinding Wedding (Spellbinding-Verse Interlude)

Summary: (Y/N) and Loki’s big day has finally arrived, but will mischief and superhero shenanigans succeed in derailing the happiest day of their lives?

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Word Count: 10.9k

Warnings/Disclaimers: Almost 11k words of pure, tooth-rotting fluff lol

A/N: We’ve finally arrived at the wedding of Loki and the Cosmic Sorceress! If you haven't already, I recommend checking out the Spellbinding Playlist; I added a bunch of wedding/romantic songs I imagine they'd choose for their special day and they're all great, so go ahead and give it a listen!Thank you all so much for reading and for waiting like six months for this thing lol, and I hope that you enjoy!

A Spellbinding Wedding October 8th, 2016 Stark Mansion New York City, New York (Previous One-Shot)

“So, (Y/L/N), in just a few short hours you’re gonna be officially – pause for dramatic effect – off the market! Can you tell us what exactly’s going through the beautiful bride’s head right now?”

(Y/N) briefly paused her mascara application and pretended to ponder Clint’s overly-exaggerated question. “Whether or not it would be rude of me to drop that camcorder through a portal to Muspelheim and lock you in the basement until after the ceremony.”

The archer snickered before jumping up to sit on the dresser behind her and turning the camcorder around to directly address the camera. “As you can see, your mom gets a little cranky when she has to wake up early. Not sure if that’ll go away in the future or just get worse, so…either way, good luck with that, kiddos!”

“When you volunteered to film the ceremony and parts of the reception for us, I really should’ve questioned it more.” (Y/N) resumed applying her mascara while fighting back a smile. “At least any future children of ours will watch this, see just how ridiculous their Uncle Clint is and know that we weren’t exaggerating. Oh! Speaking of children, are Peter’s friends here yet? Tony was supposed to send Happy into Queens to pick them up an hour ago, but I haven’t heard anything about them since.”

“Yeah, they’re all hanging out in the old lab downstairs and Tony’s helping ‘em prep their sound equipment as we speak; you and Loki do know that there’s literally thousands of professional DJ’s living in New York you could’ve hired to run your wedding reception that aren’t sixteen and can actually drive themselves to their venues, right?”

“Says the friend of ours who practically begged to be the videographer even though he’s a professional archer by trade…” She mumbled under her breath, twisting the mascara wand back into its tube just as someone knocked on her suite’s door. “Come in!”

The door opened and Natasha popped her head into the room, her long red hair still wrapped in curlers, a clipboard in her hands and a comm link secured in her ear. The spy was taking her many duties as Matron of Honor very seriously, treating the day’s celebration as if it were a highly-classified mission and not a mid-sized wedding located at Tony’s family mansion; each of their teammates had been assigned specific duties and responsibilities and throughout the morning, Natasha regularly checked in with them to ensure that their tasks were going smoothly, which explained why she was shooting Clint the trademark glare she normally reserved for Hydra agents and invading aliens. “Last I checked, Barton, you’re supposed to be overseeing the florists in the garden and not raising the bride’s blood pressure right before the wedding.”

Clint jumped down from the dresser and raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, no need to go all Black Widow on me, Tasha.” He crossed the room and pressed a chaste kiss onto (Y/N)’s cheek before winking at her through the vanity’s mirror. “I’ll see you at the altar, (Y/L/N)!”

Natasha gave the archer one final glare as he hurried out of the suite while whistling ‘Chapel of Love’ and shook her head when the door closed behind him. “I swear, I’m gonna have to start using my Widow Bites on these people if they don’t start being more helpful…” The spy turned her attention to (Y/N) and her concentrated frown morphed into a smile. “Aw (Y/N), you look stunning and you haven’t even put on your dress yet! I’m serious, it’s like you’re glowing or-” She cut herself off and held a hand up to her ear to listen to a voice in her comm. “Wait a sec, Bruce says that the caterers just arrived. Did you want me to get you anything before I check in on them?”

“Is it too early in the day for a glass of champagne?”

“Not if there’s a splash of orange juice in it,” Natasha answered with a mischievous grin. “I’ll be back before you know it!”

The door closed behind the spy and for the first time that morning, the room fell silent. (Y/N) sat back in her seat and let out a sigh of relief; she loved her friends and teammates dearly, of course, but all she wanted to do was prepare for the wedding in peace and with as little stress as possible. The wedding was slightly larger than they’d originally anticipated, with over a hundred guests from Midgard, Asgard and Alfheim all gathered together at one of Tony Stark’s family mansions in the heart of New York City, and with the ink still drying on the three realms’ fledgling peace treaties, handling the guests and ensuring that they remain peaceful would be a difficult task to carry out on a day already filled to the brim with difficult tasks. So far, her friends were doing an excellent job with ensuring that everything was running smoothly but after living the life of a superhero for over a year, she knew just how quickly a situation could shift from calm to catastrophic.

“I wonder of Loki’s feeling just as anxious about all this as I am,” (Y/N) murmured to herself, giving the photograph of her soon-to-be husband she’d tucked into the edge of her vanity’s mirror a smile before setting her sights on her un-styled hair, hoping that the intricate task would serve to distract her from the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Brother, what exactly is this gloopy green substance?”

“It’s an avocado and green tea mud mask.”

“…And why have we applied it to our faces?”

“It removes impurities from the skin while unclogging pores and absorbing excess oil.” Before Thor had a chance to ask another question, Loki brusquely continued. “Yes, it’s meant to relax you and no, you cannot eat it.”

Instead of becoming annoyed by Loki’s shortness, his brother chuckled. “In that case, these mud masks must be defective because you’re anything but relaxed, brother.” With a defeated sigh, Loki removed the cucumber slices resting on his eyelids and sat up, tossing the slices into the nearby trashcan and making his way into the suite’s bathroom to wash the half-dried mud mask off; he was halfway done when Thor entered and leaned against the door-frame, a look of concern visible even beneath his own thick mud mask. “Loki, are you all right? You haven’t been yourself all morning, and it’s beginning to worry me. You’re not having second thoughts about the wedding, are you?”

“No! No, of course not,” Loki emphatically shook his head. “I’ve been waiting for this day for quite a long time, believe me, but I…well, it’s an awfully significant life change, isn’t it? I know that what I’m feeling is only a natural reaction to such a change, of course, but a part of me can’t help but wonder if I’m even deserving of this life I’m about to embark on with (Y/N).”

His brother nodded in understanding. “I believe that Wilson refers to them as intrusive thoughts; unwelcome, involuntary thoughts with no basis in truth or fact that can manifest as a result of several forms of trauma.” When Loki raised his brows in surprise, Thor sighed and rolled his eyes in mild exasperation. “Believe it or not, brother, I do listen to what others say when they’re around me. The important point to be made is that they’re wrong; as your designated Best Man, it’s my duty to ease these irrational worries of yours and I believe that I have just the thing!”

Thor disappeared into the bedroom and quickly returned with an ornate bottle and two glasses, and Loki’s jaw nearly dropped at the sight of the familiar flagon. “That’s one of Asgard’s last remaining bottles of the great Hoder’s spiced mead. It’s to be drunk on the most special of occasions and only with the Allfather’s express permission…”

“I took a page out of your book and simply borrowed a bottle on my way out of the palace.” The older man grinned proudly at his uncharacteristic act of subterfuge and Loki couldn’t help but chuckle. “The Allfather might not agree, but my brother’s wedding and all the happiness it will surely bring him is a special occasion.”

As Loki’s throat burned and he fought back the sudden tears brought on by his brother’s support, he watched as Thor poured the amber-colored liquid out into the two glasses and pressed one into his hand, the corner of his mouth curving upwards while he raised the glass. “Well then, to happiness.”

“To happiness,” Thor echoed, and the two brothers clinked their glasses together before downing the spiced mead in one go. “Another!”

There was a gentle knock on the suite’s door and Frigga’s voice called out, “Loki? Thor?”

“Oh, Hel!”

Both men scrambled to hide the evidence of their treasonous transgression, shoving the spiced mead and glasses unceremoniously under the sink and rushing out of the bathroom to open the door for their mother; the Queen of Asgard was dressed spectacularly in a pale turquoise dress and matching wide-brimmed hat, looking just as elegant in Midgardian clothing as she always did on Asgard. Frigga was beaming as she stepped into the suite and reached up to hold Loki’s face between her hands. “Oh, I can hardly believe that my darling little one is getting married today, and to such a wonderful young woman as well! How are you feeling, Loki? Have you eaten anything at all?”

“I’m fine, Mother, just a little anxious.” Loki matched her infectious smile with one of his own. “After all, it’s not every day that three realms of the cosmos come together to celebrate a wedding.”

“You don’t have anything to worry about, because your brother and your friends are doing such an excellent job at keeping everything running smoothly.” Frigga gave them both a knowing look. “Perhaps another glass of Hoder’s spiced mead will soothe your nerves? Now, be a dear and make mine a double, please.”

Loki and Thor exchanged a wide-eyed look of surprise as their mother crossed the suite and began brushing the stray pieces of lint off their suit jackets hanging near the window, humming a cheerful tune to herself as she did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pulling back to admire her handiwork, (Y/N) smiled brightly and twirled Cassie’s chair around to face her vanity’s mirror. “There, all finished! What do you think, Cassie?”

Their flower girl-slash-ring bearer squealed in joy and turned to her with the widest smile on her glittering face. “It’s so pretty! I love it!” She threw her arms around her middle and tightly hugged her. “Do I look like a fairy from Alf…Alf…?”

“Alfheim? I’m not sure, actually, I’ve never seen a fairy there before.” Shrugging, (Y/N) glanced over at Elora, who was preoccupied with unzipping the large garment bag containing her wedding dress. “Elora has, though! Haven’t you, Elora?”

The General of the Alfheimian Army looked up from her task with a small shudder. “Unfortunately. The little beasts possess needle-sharp teeth and use their woodland magic to mask their presence right before viciously attacking any who dare trespass into their domain.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in alarm but before she could chastise the Alfheimian for her bluntness, Cassie clapped her hands together and let out a delighted laugh. “That is so cool!”

A knock on her suite’s door drew (Y/N) away from Elora and Cassie’s animated discussion of the various magical beasts that lived on Alfheim, and she opened the door to reveal Sam and Bucky; both men were already dressed in their suits, minus their floral boutonnieres, but her calm demeanor vanished when she caught sight of the panicked expressions they were desperately trying to mask. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong, doll-”

“Yeah, everything’s goin’ according to plan, (Y/L/N), promise-”

“Nat had us come up here to…um…”

“To see if you needed any help with…anything.”

She arched an unimpressed brow that almost instantly silenced both men. “Do I really have to ask you two again?”

“…Scott lost the wedding rings!” (Y/N)’s jaw dropped and Bucky let out an indignant noise as Sam raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry, Buck, but she’s got the same death glare my mom used to give me! Yeah, Scott put the rings down and now he can’t find them anywhere, and he can’t even use the ants to help ‘cause he didn’t bring his suit along.”

The super soldier hastily added, “Nat’s trying her best to jog his memory, but…well, you know Nat. I think she might end up making the poor guy faint before finding out where he might’ve lost the rings.”

“Okay, okay…” Rubbing her temples in an attempt to quell the rapidly-growing headache, (Y/N) took a steadying breath and forced herself to remain calm as she began formulating a plan. “All right, my hair and makeup’s already done, so let me find some slippers and we’ll go find Nat and Scott. I might be able to use my Alf Seidr to try and find them-” Both Sam and Bucky breathed a sigh of relief. “-But not a word of this to Loki, okay? The last thing he needs today is any added stress…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arching a curious brow, Loki examined the items laid out on the coffee table before glancing up at his teammates. “This is a Midgardian tradition? It seems a little silly that these random objects can determine the outcome of a marriage.”

“Yeah, it’s a good luck thing here on Earth, Lokes, like that old Saints jersey Sam wears during every football season.” Clint held up the camcorder and pointed the lens at Loki as he continued. “Your dad’s a pretty smart guy, kiddos, but don’t let that fool you; he once thought your mom was dying when she was only having a little brain freeze. Remember, Lokes?”

“Children, if you’ve ever wondered why your mother once attempted to hit your dear Uncle Clint over the head with a coffee-table book, then now you know,” Loki snickered as the archer flushed pink and rolled his eyes.

A reluctant smile played on Steve’s lips while he finished fastening his cuff-links across the suite. “I hate to say it, but Barton’s right about it being good luck here. ‘Something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue.’ Your mother gifted you a set of cloak clasps for today so that’s your ‘something old,’ your tuxedo counts as your ‘something new,’ Tony’s lending you one of his nicer Rolex watches for your ‘something borrowed,’ and your ‘something blue’ are the navy blue suspenders you’re wearing.”

Loki hummed in interest. “I suppose that a little extra luck wouldn’t go amiss…”

Just as he slipped the borrowed Rolex onto his wrist, a visibly panicked Thor burst into the suite and made a bee-line to Steve. “Captain Rogers, there’s an urgent matter that I must speak to you about!”

“If it’s that Tony wrote a borderline explicit speech to read at the reception, then we all know and Nat already took care of-”

“No, no, it’s not that, but we really should discuss this matter out in the hall-”

“What is it, Thor?” Loki asked, tilting his head in confusion as he took in his brother’s unusually pale face and arching a disapproving brow when he proceeded to badly explain away his concern. “Brother, surely you haven’t forgotten that I’m the God of Lies? Whatever it is, I’m sure that we’ll be able to handle it before the ceremony begins.”

Thor swallowed and anxiously bit his lip before blurting out, “A wizard is currently battling a space worm out on the lawn.”

“What?!” Loki, Steve and Clint all exclaimed in unison.

“It just appeared out of nowhere and started wreaking havoc across the grounds, but then a wizard stepped out of a portal and started fighting it! Stark and Rhodes are already on their way to help but it seems that the beast is indestructible!”

With his jaw clenched tight in mounting agitation, Loki stood from his seat and summoned his emerald-green magic. “Not if I have anything to say about it.” A shimmer of light enveloped his body and in the blink of an eye, his wedding attire morphed into his Asgardian battle armor and daggers appeared in his grasp. “The beast and this so-called wizard will soon regret the very moment they dared to step foot on this property.”

Steve shrugged off his tuxedo jacket and reached for the red, white and blue shield propped up beside one of the suite’s armchair. “Barton, keep the caterers and florists away from the lawn, and make sure the guests stay inside and away from the windows.”

“On it.”

“And not a word of this to (Y/N), all right?” All three men nodded in agreement and Loki’s grip tightened around the hilts of his daggers. “The last thing she needs today is any added stress…”

As the trio of men hurried outside, a part of Loki wondered if he’d been tricked into believing that a cosmic monster was in the process of battling a sorcerer and that it was all some sort of elaborate prank concocted by his brother and friends to ease his pre-wedding jitters. However, that spark of hope was quickly extinguished when Steve threw the back door open and was forced to jump back to avoid being struck by Rhodes’ flailing body falling from the sky.

“Oh, I’m definitely gonna feel that one for a couple of days,” Rhodes groaned in pain and allowed Steve to hoist his armor-clad body to his feet. “Either of you guys wanna tell me what an ugly-ass space worm is doing here in New York? ‘Cause it’s definitely not here to wish the bride and groom its best!”

The familiar sound of repulsor blasts intermingled with the booming roars caused all four men to turn and watch as Tony darted around the tentacles of an enormous pink creature and a dark-haired man wearing a burgundy cape conjured orange-hued magic to counter its vicious attacks. “Earth has second-rate sorcerers now, how delightful…” Loki rolled his eyes and turned to the others. “It’s an Abilisk, a cosmic creature that feeds off significantly-sized energy sources, and it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if that cheap magician down there summoned it here out of pure incompetency.”

“Let’s deal with the Abilisk first, brother, and then we’ll confront the wizard later!” With a burst of lightning, Thor flew off towards the enraged creature and attempted to slam Mjolnir against its skull, but he was quickly swatted aside by one of its flailing tentacles.

Loki and Steve exchanged a look with Rhodes before joining the battle; the Air Force colonel attempted to shoot it with one of his suit’s many guns but was unsuccessful due to the creature’s impenetrable hide and no matter how twisted its own tentacles became due to the super soldier’s impressive athleticism, the beast remained standing and overwhelmingly angry. After throwing a handful of emerald-green magic at a tentacle to stop it from slamming into Steve’s back, Loki looked over to see the bearded sorcerer performing a spell nearby. “Care to introduce yourself and explain why you’ve brought an Abilisk to my wedding?” He yelled over the creature’s deafening roars.

“My name’s Doctor Stephen Strange, I’m a Master of the Mystic Arts, the guardian of the New York Sanctum in Greenwich Village and I most certainly did not summon an Abilisk here!” The sorcerer shouted back as he threw two semi-circular protective shields at the Abilisk’s face, where they exploded on impact and disoriented the enraged creature further. “Someone here at this mansion opened an inter-dimensional portal and let this creature come through, and as soon I arrived to send it back, my sling-ring was stolen from me by an unchecked summoning spell!”

“Sling-ring?”

“Yes, it’s what allows me to channel the magic needed to open inter-dimensional portals between any two points within the universe and without it, I can’t send the Abilisk back to where it came from!”

Loki was quickly filled with a sneaking suspicion about the whereabouts of the sorcerer’s sling-ring, but he prayed to the Norns that he was wrong as he called out to the others, “Does anyone here have access to Romanoff’s comm link? I think she may be able to shed some much-needed light on the situation!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The air around (Y/N) crackled and hummed with magical energy as she used her Alf Seidr to sense her surroundings and a familiar tugging sensation in her stomach preceded a strange weight in her outstretched left hand. She opened her eyes and her excitement instantly turned to annoyance when she was met with the sight of yet another unfamiliar ring; the one resting on her open palm looked different from the rest, almost reminding her of a pair of brass knuckles but with strange etchings across its bronzed surface. “Well, this definitely isn’t what I’m seeking…” She tossed the object into the basket of other rings she’d inadvertently summoned while searching for the lost wedding rings and sighed. “Do any of you have any bright ideas?”

Scott, Natasha, Sam and Bucky all shook their heads from their spots across the laboratory, and the ex-convict was the first to speak. “I-I’m really, really sorry about this, (Y/N), I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay, Scott, I know you didn’t mean to lose the rings…” (Y/N) rubbed her temple in an effort to quell her raging stress-induced headache as she considered what to do next. “I’ll just have to try the spell again, then maybe it will-”

“Tony?” They all looked over to see a frowning Natasha listening to her comm link. “Okay, slow down, I can’t hear what you’re…wait, what wizard ring? Yeah, Scott lost the rings and (Y/N)’s been using her magic to try and find ‘em, but…” The spy’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped at whatever the billionaire was saying through the comm. “Oh shit.”

(Y/N) frowned. “What is it, Nat?”

Before Natasha could answer, the wall nearest to (Y/N) suddenly exploded and she had just enough time to summon a protective bubble of magic to encase them as chunks of stone and debris began raining down. The dust was beginning to settle when she flicked her wrists to remove the shield, her brows rising in surprise as she recognized her future brother-in-law extricating himself from the rubble. Thor’s blue eyes widened comically when he spotted her standing before him and he swallowed nervously before giving her a small wave. “H-Hello, Lady (Y/N). Shouldn’t you be off preparing for the ceremony?”

“What’s going on, Thor?”

“Nothing, nothing, just an intense arm-wrestling match with your delightful Alfheimian friends; for one so small, Myriani has quite the arm!”

“Thor.”

Natasha stepped forward and gestured towards the comm link in her ear. “According to Tony, there’s a giant space worm wreaking havoc on the lawn that you unintentionally summoned here with your Alf Seidr, and the only person who can get rid of it is a wizard-doctor who lives in Greenwich Village but you accidentally stole his magic ring.”

“God, just put me back in the damn ice…” Bucky groaned as he dropped his head into his vibranium hand.

Sam reached into the basket of rings and withdrew the odd-looking shape made of engraved brass. “I’m no expert on wizards, (Y/L/N), but this kinda looks like it could be magical to me.”

(Y/N) took the ring from Sam and with a wave of her hand, she transformed her silk robe and slippers into her Cosmic Sorceress uniform and marched through the hole in the laboratory wall. There was indeed a towering pink-skinned creature flailing its many tentacles as her friends and teammates fought their hardest against it; Tony and Rhodey were firing their suit’s repulsors and dodging its tentacles in the air while Steve, Loki and an odd-looking man wearing a red cloak tried all they could to draw the creature’s attention away from the mansion. Ignoring the guilt beginning to eat away at her, (Y/N) strode across the lawn and called out over the deafening roars, “Doctor, catch!”

The wizard-doctor looked over and raised his hand just in time to catch his ring, quickly slipping it into his fingers and rotating his hands in a circular motion to create a sparking orange portal directly beneath the creature; it released a final roar as it dropped down into the portal and disappeared, leaving the grounds of Stark Mansion silent. The stranger closed the portal he’d opened and breathed a sigh of relief before setting his sights on an embarrassed (Y/N). “Your royal highness, would you care to explain what’s going on and why you took my sling ring?”

(Y/N) fidgeted with her finger-less gloves and attempted to smile, but it appeared as more of a grimace. “First of all, I’m very sorry for all the trouble this has caused you, Doctor…”

“Strange. Doctor Stephen Strange, Master of the Mystic Arts and the guardian of the New York Sanctum.” They shook hands and she silently took note of the unique magical energy radiating from him. “You’re (Y/N) (Y/L/N), former trainee librarian turned Cosmic Sorceress, the Crown Princess of Alfheim, daughter of the Alfheimian Layeia Tilasdottir and the very-human David (Y/L/N), descendant of the esteemed Lady Astrid, designated representative between the Light Elves and the Nine Realms of the cosmos, and the Defender of the Realm of Alfheim.”

Taking a step back, (Y/N) arched a questioning brow and fought the sudden urge to summon her magic or even her sword. “For someone I’ve never met, you certainly know an awful lot about me.”

Doctor Strange shrugged. “I make it my business to keep an eye on beings that pose the largest threats to this world and I have to say, you’re quite high on my list.”

“Well, like I was saying, Doctor, all of this has a very simple if not embarrassing explanation-”

“(Y/N)!” They both turned to see Loki and their friends hurrying towards them; their tuxedos were covered in grass stains and an odd multicolored slime, and her fiancé’s emerald-green eyes were filled with worry as he gently held her shoulders and leaned down to meet her gaze. “Darling, are you all right? What happened?”

As the rest of their friends and even some of their guests began making their way across the lawn, (Y/N)’s embarrassment grew and she brought a hand up to partially hide her face. “Scott misplaced the rings and I thought I could use my magic to find them, but my anxiety must’ve led to me opening a portal and then the strength of my spell accidentally took Doctor Strange’s sling ring, and…well, you know the rest. I still have no idea why I wasn’t able to summon our rings; it’s almost as if something was blocking my magic…” Loki paled at her words and it was (Y/N)’s turn to be concerned. “Loki?”

“This situation, um…it may not entirely be your fault, darling.” Her fiancé chuckled awkwardly and rubbed his neck as he glanced over at where Scott, his girlfriend Hope Van Dyne and Cassie were all standing near Elora. “You see, I assumed that Lang might misplace the rings so before I started getting ready, I placed an enchantment on them and as an added precaution, I instructed Barton to give Lang an empty ring box and give the real ones to-”

“Hey, guys! Cassie had the rings the whole time!" Scott shouted and gave a giggling Cassie a celebratory fist-bump. “Either my little peanut’s becoming a better thief than her old man, or someone didn’t trust me with ‘em in the first place. Probably the second one, huh?”

With an incredulous laugh, (Y/N) allowed a chuckling Loki to pull her into his arms and shook her head in disbelief. “Does that mean we ruined our own wedding?”

“My dear, you both haven’t ruined a single thing,” Frigga reassured her as she walked up to them and gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Your friends and guests are still here, all of them safe and unharmed, and the sun is shining brightly in the sky. Why shouldn’t your wedding continue as planned?”

A stern-looking Doctor Strange raised a hand and answered, “Because Miss (Y/L/N) here nearly caused the destruction of New York with her unchecked magic and a mass hysteria the likes of which hasn’t been seen since his invasion. Such an act, even one as accidental as you claim this one to be, cannot go unexamined and unpunished.”

(Y/N) bit her lip while Loki rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to counter his words, but his mother’s hand on his arm silenced him as she turned to Doctor Strange with a brilliant smile. “It’s very nice to meet you, Doctor Stephen Strange of Midgard; I am Frigga, the Queen of Asgard and mother to Loki and Thor. My dear future daughter-in-law has recently obtained an extraordinary amount of Alf Seidr that she’s still training to control and seeing as today’s her long-awaited wedding day, it’s quite understandable that her focus was shaken.” Frigga sympathetically rubbed (Y/N)’s back and took a moment to adjust her uniform’s purple-hued tiara before returning her attention to the sorcerer. “Now, I’m sure that a highly-skilled Master of the Mystic Arts such as yourself would be honored to utilize the Time Stone hanging around your neck and repair the damage caused by the creature, so as to ease Lady (Y/N)’s frazzled nerves and prevent any other unfortunate accidents from occurring.”

Doctor Strange blinked in surprise. “Um…”

“For your valiant defense of this realm, Asgard recognizes you as one of its trusted allies and speaking as the mother of the groom, I would personally be honored if you joined us for today’s celebration of Loki and Lady (Y/N)’s nuptials.”

“That’s, um…thank you, Queen Frigga, for extending an invitation to me…I-I’d be honored to attend…” The sorcerer’s cheeks flushed pink and he tried his hardest to avoid making eye-contact with the beautiful goddess in front of him. “I’ll start on the repairs right away…”

While a flushed Doctor Strange started using the power of the Time Stone to reverse the damages to their friends’ tuxedos first, (Y/N) turned to look between Frigga and Loki as her stunned expression morphed into a grin. “You really did inherit your Silvertongue from your mother, didn’t you?”

“So it would seem,” Loki replied and leaned down to press a kiss onto his mother’s cheek. “Thank you for intervening on our behalf, Mother.”

Frigga’s blue eyes twinkled with some mischief of her own as she gave them a conspiratorial wink. “Of course, little one. I was raised by witches who taught me many invaluable lessons, among which was that diplomacy and deceit are two sides of the very same coin.”

After the Queen of Asgard went to supervise the sorcerer as he repaired the lawn and floral arrangements surrounding the white gazebo that they’d soon exchange their vows within, (Y/N) spotted Clint filming the aftermath of the battle and giggled. “This’ll be a fun memory to share with our future children: How Mom and Dad’s magical shenanigans nearly wrecked their own wedding.”

Loki laughed. “After listening to Stark read me an online article chronicling several common wedding day horrors, ours was relatively tame by comparison.” He gave her forehead a lingering kiss before meeting her gaze with a tender smile. “Are you ready to get married, my love?”

“More than ready, sweetheart.” (Y/N) slipped her hand into her fiancé’s and swung their arms as they made their way into the mansion to finish getting ready for their wedding ceremony.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour and over a dozen magical repairs later, Loki and Thor stood outside on the mansion’s veranda with Cassie Lang, keeping the flower girl-slash-ring bearer entertained and patiently waiting for (Y/N) and Natasha to finish their last-minute preparations so the ceremony could begin.

The guests were all seated and talking amongst themselves while they enjoyed the late afternoon sunlight breaking through the fluffy white clouds; the only people not seated in the rows of benches were General Elora – who would be officiating the ceremony, as it mainly drew from ancient Alfheimian customs – and Peter, MJ and Ned; the young woman graciously volunteered to play the guitar while they walked down the aisle, and her two best friends were keeping her company as she perched herself on a wooden stool beside the gazebo’s steps. Floral arrangements comprised of green and lavender Dahlias and branches of fern lined the aisle and hung gracefully off the ends of the sculpted wooden benches, while vines of green ivy and lilacs wrapped around the gazebo’s posts and railing. The interior of the gazebo was illuminated with dozens of twinkling fairy lights that were set to brighten as the sun started to set, and lanterns of battery-powered candles hung from each nearby bush and tree.

Embracing a mixture of Asgardian and Midgardian traditions, Loki was dressed in a tailored black tuxedo with an emerald-green cloak fastened to his jacket by the engraved golden clasps his mother gifted him, and he wore a floral crown of blooming laurels and leaves. On Asgard, one’s future spouse chose the flowers that best represented their intended and after much deliberation, (Y/N) picked the laurel for its many symbolic meanings; the laurel symbolized nobility, intelligence and an acknowledgement of the new phase he was entering by marrying her. Quite a flattering choice on her part, he thought with a reserved smile as he conjured another tiny burst of fireworks for Cassie’s amusement.

“Perhaps one day, young Cassie, my brother will show you how he can transform into any animal one could imagine,” Thor remarked to Cassie as he took a moment to readjust his green pocket-square.

The little girl’s eyes widened in amazement and she quickly turned to face Loki. “Can you turn into an ant?!”

Loki blinked in surprise as Thor stifled a chuckle behind his hand. “Um, well…now that you mention it, I haven’t actually tried.”

“Oh. I like ants. The ones that my daddy works with are really nice!”

Watching Cassie suddenly switch from talking about ants to twirling around in her soft green dress, a part of Loki hoped that his and (Y/N)’s future children shared the little girl’s quirky enthusiasm and unapologetic sense of wonder. The sound of the veranda’s glass door opening caused Loki to turn around and when he did, he was met with the jaw-dropping sight of his fiancée. (Y/N)’s off-white wedding dress – impeccably designed for her by Luke Jacobson – was relatively simplistic, with a fitted bust that cinched at the waist and flared out into a flowing skirt that reached the floor, but what elevated the entire look from simplistic to enchanting were its unique details; a lace overlay of hand-sewn floral designs was fastened onto the bust, branching out into fluttering sleeves that hung down to her biceps, and the only jewelry she wore besides her engagement ring was a delicate pair of pearl earrings she inherited from her late aunt. Her hair was arranged into one of her favorite styles and on the top of her head, she wore a floral crown comprised of white Camellia blooms; he’d picked them for her because they symbolized admiration, respect and everlasting love and devotion. A veil of lace-trimmed white chiffon was attached to the back of the floral crown, hanging gracefully down her back and barely brushing the floor. The finishing touch was the bouquet she was clutching in her hands; it was comprised of laurel, white Camellia blooms, lavender and lilac-colored roses and dusty green foliage.

“Darling…” Loki approached her almost reverently and stood before her with a dazed smile on his face. “I truly am the luckiest man in all the Nine Realms, to find myself marrying such an ethereal goddess as you.”

(Y/N) shyly ducked her head before reaching a hand up to straighten one of his cloak clasps. “You must be a mind-reader, then, because I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

His lips chastely caressed her knuckles as Natasha stepped onto the veranda with a small basket of multicolored flower petals and a small bouquet of her own; the Matron of Honor was dressed in a simple lilac-colored gown, with her long red curls pinned up in an elegant style by a single white Dahlia and glittering silver heels on her feet. “Save the kissing for later, lovebirds, we’ve got a wedding ceremony to begin.” Mindful of her gown, the spy bent down and held the basket out for Cassie to take. “Okay, Lang, just like we practiced.”

“I’m on it,” Cassie replied, toothily grinning and giving Natasha a thumbs-up before taking the basket from her and allowing the spy to quickly adjust (Y/N)’s veil.

“Are you two ready?” After Loki and (Y/N) nodded, Natasha held a hand up to her comm link and spoke lowly into it, “All right, kid, let’s do this thing.”

Across the way, MJ nodded and gestured for her friends to take their seats, spending a moment adjusting her guitar’s shoulder strap before beginning to softly play. The guests’ conversations started to dim down and with a nod of confirmation from the spy, Cassie walked across the lawn and started to slowly make her way down the aisle, scattering flower petals along the way while her father beamed with pride from his seat.

Thor leaned down to give (Y/N)’s forehead a chaste kiss and clapped a hand on Loki’s shoulder, his blue eyes sparkling with happiness as he allowed Natasha to loop her arm around his. “See you in a minute.”

Natasha winked at them and with that, the Best Man and the Matron of Honor began their walk down the aisle; when they ascended the gazebo’s steps and took their respective places, (Y/N) slipped her hand into Loki’s and he squeezed it tight as they crossed the lawn to stand at the end of the aisle. Once the guests all stood and turned to face them, Loki and (Y/N) exchanged a smile before starting down the aisle hand-in-hand; long before they knew it was Alfheimian tradition that the bride and groom walk themselves down the aisle on their wedding day, (Y/N) pointed out that since they’d both be entering into marriage with one another, it only made sense that they’d choose to walk down the aisle together.

While they slowly walked down the aisle as MJ played a gentle love ballad on her guitar, Loki looked out at their friends, teammates and colleagues standing amongst the guests to distract himself from the butterflies beginning to flutter around his stomach. Nick Fury, Maria Hill, Everett Ross and Doctor Helen Cho stood alongside everyone they invited from S.H.I.E.L.D., the director giving them both an approving nod as they passed by; Steven Grant – the quirky man they’d met while on vacation in Egypt and to whom (Y/N) was a devoted pen-pal – stood beside Layla El-Fouley, his alter Marc Spector’s stunning wife, and for the briefest moment, Loki could even see the skeletal figure of Khonshu lingering by one of the distant trees; their new and reluctant friend Doctor Stephen Strange, now dressed in a simple black tuxedo instead of his sorcerer’s robes, stood beside his fellow sorcerer Wong and attempted to not look as uncomfortable as he presumably felt amongst so many superheroes; Peter Parker and Ned Leeds were trying their hardest not to seem too excited to be sharing a row with Doctor Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis, and Loki could hear (Y/N) stifle a giggle when the eccentric woman winked and fired finger-guns at them; Scott Lang and Hope Van Dyne’s attention was caught between watching Loki and (Y/N) make their way down the aisle and keeping an eye on Cassie standing on the gazebo beside Thor, while Bucky and Sam both smiled widely at them as they passed; Bruce stood beside his cousin Jennifer Walters, who was already flirtatiously eyeing an embarrassed Rhodey standing across the aisle, while Pepper elbowed a snickering Tony; Steve and Clint stood at one of the front rows, the super soldier beaming with happiness and the archer filming their procession with his camcorder.

At the front of Loki’s side of the aisle stood their Asgardian and Alfheimian friends and family. Fandral winked at him and Sif grinned widely as Volstagg toasted them with the chocolate bar he was snacking on and even the ever-stoic Hogun gave them an atypical smile. Queen Amirah of Alfheim stood beside her guards, Hagen and Myriani, and the afternoon sunlight make her blue opal tiara sparkle almost as much as her smile, and at the end of the row stood Frigga, who was dabbing at her tear-filled eyes with a handkerchief as they walked past and ascended the gazebo’s steps.

Elora patiently waited for all the guests to take their seats to begin. “We are gathered here to witness the union of Crown Princess (Y/N) Layeiadottir (Y/L/N) of Alfheim and Midgard and Prince Loki of Asgard, two halves of the same shining soul, in blessed matrimony. Do both parties stand here of your own free will to acknowledge the eternal bond shared by the both of you?”

“We do,” Loki and (Y/N) replied in unison.

“Then you may face one another, join hands and recite your written vows.”

After (Y/N) handed her bouquet over to Natasha and placed her hands in Loki’s, she took a steadying breath before smiling up at him. “Loki. Through all the tears and all the struggles we’ve overcome together, a part of me always knew that we were destined to make it here. My heart was yours the moment I first looked into your beautiful eyes and as I look into them now, I can see every ounce of the passion and devotion I feel for you reflected in them. Sweetheart, you’re my greatest love and the brightest light in my life, and I promise to love and cherish you from here to eternity as your wife.”

Loki swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself not to cry as he started speaking his own vows. “(Y/N). Not a day goes by where I don’t count myself the luckiest man in all the Nine Realms to have the love of someone as utterly magnificent as you. In the beginning of our romance, I feared that you were too good to be true, that I couldn’t possibly be deserving of someone so pure and loving as you are. But here we stand, surrounded by our friends and family, and I feel proud and incredibly blessed to become your husband. My darling, you’re my lover, my best friend and my eternal soulmate. All I am is yours, and here before our friends, our family and the Norns themselves, I vow to be until the end of time.”

(Y/N)’s eyes were filled with unshed tears and although Loki’s gaze never left hers, he could hear the sniffles and rustling of Kleenex packages amongst their guests. “(Y/N), do you take Loki to be your husband, to cherish in love and in friendship, in strength and in weakness, in success and disappointment, to love him faithfully today, tomorrow and forever?”

“I do,” (Y/N) vowed and smiled widely up at him.

“Loki, do you take (Y/N) to be your wife, to cherish in love and in friendship, in strength and in weakness, in success and disappointment, to love her faithfully today, tomorrow and forever?”

Loki solemnly nodded as he vowed, “I do.”

“And now, for the rings.”

Cassie nodded, handing one ring to Natasha and the other to Thor before giving her father an excited wave, causing a ripple of giggles through the rows of guests; the spy handed (Y/N) the ring and her eyes flicked between his and the thin band she held as she recited the ceremony’s next words. “I present to you this ring as a symbol of my devotion.” She slipped the band onto his ring finger to rest above his gold engagement ring. “My body, my soul and my everlasting love I share with you always and forever.”

Accepting the ring that his brother handed him, Loki gave (Y/N) another smile before reciting, “I present to you this ring as a symbol of my devotion.” He slipped the band onto her finger above her sparkling engagement ring. “My body, my soul and my everlasting love I share with you always and forever.”

“May these symbols of your devotion serve to always remind you of your everlasting bond.” Elora’s golden-colored eyes were slowly misting over as she spoke, no doubt wishing that (Y/N)’s late mother and father could be there to witness their only child be married. “And now, by the power vested in me by my rank as General of the Alfheimian Army, it is my honor to declare you both married. Go forth and live each day of your lives together to the fullest. You may seal this declaration with a kiss.”

Beaming with happiness, (Y/N) stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against Loki’s in a brief but passionate kiss that he was quick to reciprocate. For one singular blissful moment, everything and everyone around them faded away and they stood alone on the gazebo, sharing a sweet and loving kiss that symbolized their long-awaited unification as husband and wife. The cheering and applause from their guests brought Loki back to reality sooner than he would’ve liked but after reminding himself that they’d have plenty of time to be alone later, he ended their kiss and gave his wife a mischievous smile before scooping her up in his arms and spinning around while she burst into joyous laughter.

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To say that the wedding reception was one of the liveliest parties (Y/N) had ever attended would be an understatement. From the moment they were declared husband and wife, she felt as through she’d been whisked straight into a dream that seemingly had no end to it; once they finished having their wedding photographs taken, they spent a half an hour by themselves in one of Stark Mansion’s many living rooms, enjoying several slices of pizza (and lots of kisses, of course) and taking time to relax for the first time that day while the guests filtered into the ballroom for the reception.

After (Y/N) and Loki snuck into the beautifully-decorated ballroom and made their rounds around the tables to greet their guests as they enjoyed their dinner, the trio of teenagers they’d allowed to be their DJ’s took their places behind their equipment and announced the bride and groom’s first dance as husband and wife; they both had fun watching their guests’ reactions when, instead of some sort of romantic waltz or ballad, they danced along to the fast-paced disco hit ‘You’re The First, The Last, My Everything,’ spinning and twirling so much around the dance floor that (Y/N) was thankful she’d removed her floral crown and veil and that Loki had dressed down to just his black tuxedo.

The guests took to the dance floor once dinner was cleared away and while Loki danced with Frigga, Thor asked (Y/N) for a dance. From there, (Y/N) danced with every member of the Avengers and their off-realm guests to a wide variety of music; she requested Big Band tunes for Steve and Bucky and slower songs for Bruce and the Warrior’s Three, while Tony, Clint and Sam happily danced along with her to some faster pop numbers. Natasha pulled her into a ladies-only group dance with Jane, Darcy, Helen and Maria, and after a brief dance with Everett Ross, (Y/N) had their trio of DJ’s pause the music so she could reveal her surprise for Loki.

“I’d like to start out by thanking you all for being here with us today,” (Y/N) began as she stood before the crowded ballroom. “As I’m sure some of you know, I had a difficult road to recovery after the Battle of Boston. Sam suggested that I take up playing the piano again as a form of musical therapy, but I was hesitant at first; you see, my aunt taught me to play when I was a child and I stopped when she died because I couldn’t enjoy the music without her. Loki…” Her voice momentarily caught in her throat at the unexpected emotions welling up within her, but spotting her husband standing amongst the crowd helped her to steady herself and keep going. “Loki stayed with me every single time I sat myself at the piano. With him by my side, I found the strength to enjoy the music again and slowly but surely, I started to heal. Loki’s always been there for me when I needed him the most, which is why I’d like to dedicate this next song to my new husband.”

Peter and MJ plugged in the last chord as (Y/N) sat down at the electric keyboard they’d set up for her, both teenagers ducking out of the way with a whispered “break a leg!” while she adjusted the microphone and straightened her posture; seeing the curious expression on Loki’s face and the eager anticipation filling his emerald-green eyes, (Y/N) gave him a smile and a little wink before she began to play.

“Sweet, wonderful you, you make me happy with the things you do. Oh, can it be so, this feeling follows me wherever I go. I never did believe in miracles, but I’ve a feeling it’s time to try…I never did believe in the ways of magic, but I’m beginning to wonder why…” A widening grin played on (Y/N)’s lips as the guests took to the dance floor and started to dance to the spirited Fleetwood Mac tune while she sang. “I never did believe in miracles, but I’ve a feeling it’s time to try…I never did believe in the ways of magic, but I’m beginning to wonder why…” While the guests continued to dance, Loki approached the electric keyboard she was seated at and watched her fingers fly across the keys with an unreadable expression on his face. “Don’t, don’t break the spell, it would be different and you know it will. You, you make loving fun, and I don’t have to tell you but you’re the only one. You, you make loving fun, it’s all I want to do…you, you make loving fun, it’s all I want to do…you, you make loving fun, it’s all I want to do…you, you make loving fun, it’s all I want to do…”

When the song finally came to an end, the crowd burst into applause and their three DJ’s were quick to select another pop song that kept everyone out on the dance floor. (Y/N) thanked the teenagers for their help and crossed the makeshift stage to where Loki stood but before she could say anything, his arms were around her and he was dipping her low as his lips captured hers in a reverent kiss; when they were finally forced to separate for air, her husband straightened them both up but kept his arms wound around her waist and gave her a tender grin. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you sing, darling, and you sang that beautiful song just for me. Rest assured, I’ll treasure that moment for the rest of my days.”

“Thanks to our archer-turned-videographer, you’ll be able to watch it over and over until you get sick of it,” (Y/N) chuckled as she glanced past Loki to see Clint filming Natasha and Thor reenacting the famous lift from Dirty Dancing to the amazement of the dancers nearest to them.

Loki’s fingers gently took hold of her chin and guided her to look at him, and his love-struck gaze remained trained on hers as he slowly shook his head. “Never, my love. Now, how about a slice of cake and some Asgardian mead?”

Everyone gathered to watch (Y/N) and Loki cut their three-tiered wedding cake with one of his intricate daggers and after they’d indulged in their dessert, four of their grinning and slightly-inebriated teammates took to the makeshift stage; Natasha and Clint’s cheeks were tinged red, Sam’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his bow-tie was missing, and Tony couldn’t contain his giggles as he stepped up to one of the microphones.

“Hey, guys! Great party, huh?” The crowd cheered and Tony nodded in agreement. “Well, you better hold onto your hats ‘cause it’s about to get even greater!”

(Y/N), who was standing beside Loki and catching up with both Pepper and Helen, looked over at her husband with eyes widened in horror. “He’s not about to give a speech, is he?”

“Not if he doesn’t wanna spend tonight sleeping on the couch,” The CEO replied before taking another sip of her champagne. “Trust me, he and I already had a lengthy discussion about what constitutes as appropriate wedding reception behavior.”

“In my experience, Mr. Stark tends not to retain information told to him in less than three sentences or in any tone other than pleasant.” The world-renowned geneticist let out a long-suffering sigh and watched the four Avengers setting up several more microphone stands. “Hence why he’s permanently banned from my laboratory.”

While Pepper gave Helen an understanding nod, Loki wrapped an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders and gave her a comforting squeeze. “I’m sure that whatever they’re planning will be very touching…also, Romanoff stole Stark’s intended speech and vaguely threatened bodily harm if he attempted to improvise one; he may be an impulsive Midgardian, but he knows better than to find himself at the mercy of the Black Widow.”

(Y/N) chuckled as the lighting dimmed and all of a sudden, a spotlight landed on the two of them. “You see, the four of us up here got together and decided we wanted to do somethin’ special for our two good friends here. Like (Y/L/N) here mentioned earlier, she used music to help her out during her recovery and she’d play for all of us in the tower; so, we got together and figured that it was time we were the ones to play something for her…or rather, sing something for her. Hit it, adolescent DJ’s!”

The teenagers began to play an instrumental track of Frankie Valli and the Four Season’s ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You,’ and Loki offered her his hand. “Shall we?”

With a smile on her face, (Y/N) nodded and allowed her husband to lead her to the empty center of the dance floor, slow-dancing along to the song’s pleasant introduction and biting her lip to keep from giggling when Tony and Sam started singing and Natasha and Clint provided their back-up vocals. “You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you. You’d be like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much. At long last love has arrived, and I thank God I’m alive. You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you…”

“Did you tell them that I like this song?” (Y/N) suddenly asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion as she examined Loki’s overly-cheerful face. “Because I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned to any of them that I like this song.”

Loki merely arched a brow and his emerald-green eyes sparkled with mischief. “Now, why would I do such an odd thing as that?”

“Pardon the way that I stare, there’s nothin’ else to compare. The sight of you leaves me weak, there are no words left to speak. But if you feel like I feel, please let me know that it’s real. You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you…”

As the small instrumental revved up for the chorus, (Y/N) was twirled around in tight circles and before she could question her husband further, his voice suddenly echoed throughout the ballroom and sang, “I love you, baby!” (Y/N) gasped in disbelief when she looked over at the makeshift stage to see Loki standing at one of the microphones, and she laughed when she realized that her dance partner was a clone created from Loki’s magic. “And if it’s quite alright I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night, I love you, baby, trust in me when I say…” Loki was grinning widely as he sang and when his eyes found (Y/N)’s, he gave her a sly wink. “Oh, pretty baby! Now that I’ve found you, stay, and let me love you, baby, let me love you!”

“You really are a trickster,” (Y/N) remarked to Loki’s smirking clone, who merely shrugged and continued to sway them across the dance floor.

“When our friendship first began, my darling (Y/N) took it upon herself to introduce me to all of Midgard’s greatest literary creations and being the dedicated bibliophile that she is, she more than succeeded.” The real Loki onstage smiled as he held onto the microphone. “Each and every novel and play she recommended provided me insight into her beautiful mind but when it came to watching the filmed adaptations of her favorite literary works, I was able to observe just how they affected her…which is how I know that (Y/N) adores the scene in a certain modern Shakespearean adaptation when the handsome lead surprises the heroine with a public show of affection.”

(Y/N) felt her face warm and a reluctant grin spread across her face as she glanced back at the clone she was dancing with. “10 Things I Hate About You was the first movie we watched together when I joined the Avengers. I…I can’t believe you remembered that…”

The clone leaned down and pressed a kiss onto her forehead while the real Loki onstage continued to sing. “I love you, baby! And if it’s quite alright I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night, I love you, baby, trust in me when I say…Oh, pretty baby! Don’t bring me down, I pray, oh pretty baby, now that I’ve found you, stay, oh pretty baby, trust in me when I say…”

When the song came to an end, the clone vanished in a shimmer of green magic and as the crowd clapped and cheered, an impressed-looking Darcy leaned towards (Y/N) and yelled over the din, “Geez, is there anything that guy can’t do?”

“If there is, then I’ve certainly never seen it!” (Y/N) chuckled and when Loki finally made his way through the crowd, she looped her arms around his waist and smiled up at him. “That was beautiful, sweetheart!”

“It was a challenge to keep our rehearsals a secret and I might’ve downed a shot or two of liquid courage beforehand, but I’m glad that you enjoyed it.” He pressed a kiss onto the tip of her nose and grinned when she laughed at the ticklish sensation. “You surprised me with a beautifully-performed song, and I surprised you with a slightly-less conventional performance; I suppose that great minds really do think alike.”

“Okay, here’s another oldie for all you oldies out there!” Ned Leeds’ amplified voice announced and the opening notes of The Village People’s ‘Y.M.C.A.’ filled the ballroom, causing the guests to eagerly take to the dance floor.

Nearby, Jane frowned and turned to Darcy standing beside her. “Wait, did that kid just call us old?”

“Join the club,” Both Steve and Bucky quipped as Natasha and Jennifer Walters dragged them past towards the center of the dance floor.

“Oh, I love this song!” (Y/N) grabbed Loki’s hands and started to sway along to the catchy beat. “It was in The Office, remember? It’s the song that plays towards the end of the Café Disco episode!”

“You’re right, but I’m still confused as to why a song about a worldwide youth organization inspires such a visceral reaction in Midgardians.” Loki studied the dancers around them in curious amusement. “And what about it has anything to do with weddings?”

She ducked under his arms and spun so that her back was pressed against his front, craning her neck so that she could meet his gaze with a grin. “It’s a catchy, cheesy song that has the easiest dance moves in the world to perform. Doesn’t that make it the perfect party song?”

Loki shrugged and spun her back out to face him. “Only if one has the perfect dance partner to go along with it.”

“Then I suppose we’re in luck,” (Y/N) quipped, pressing a kiss onto her husband’s knuckles before manipulating his arms along to the song’s iconic chorus and dissolving into a fit of giggles at the absurdity of the God of Mischief dancing along to ‘Y.M.C.A..’

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When the moon was high in the star-filled sky and the reception inside Stark Mansion was beginning to wind down, Loki and (Y/N) snuck off to the gazebo they were married in and swayed to the slow music playing in the distance, surrounded only by the beautiful flowers and twinkling fairy lights that decorated the structure. (Y/N)’s head rested on Loki’s shoulder and his eyes were closed as one of his hands held hers against his chest, directly over his heart.

“Do you think that we’ll see Doctor Strange again?”

Loki thoughtfully hummed and nodded. “I’m sure we will, but not for a long while; I believe that the superhero lifestyle unnerved the poor fellow and I doubt he wants to incite the anger of any of our friends. As long as you continue to train and master your abilities, there won’t be a reason for that second-rate sorcerer to bother you again.”

(Y/N) lifted her head so that she could meet his gaze, a single brow arched as her (Y/E/C) eyes sparkled with delight. “So, are you finally going to tell me where we’re going on our honeymoon?”

“And ruin the surprise I’ve spent two months meticulously planning? Where’s the fun in that?”

“Loki, I have to know what sort of clothes to pack!”

“Darling, I don’t imagine we’ll be wearing any for the majority of the honeymoon.” Loki’s teasing snickers quickly transitioned to laughter when (Y/N)’s fingers mercilessly tickled his neck in retaliation. “All right, all right, I surrender! On Monday, you and I will travel the Bifrost to Karapiro, New Zealand and spend ten days at Lakeview Lodge; we’ll have the opportunity to visit Rotorua, the Waitomo Caves and even take a tour of-”

“Hobbiton,” (Y/N) gasped and Loki’s grin widened as her face lit up with excitement. “We’re going to see where they filmed The Lord of the Rings movies?!” When he nodded, she flung her arms around his neck and nearly tackled him to the floor with the force of her embrace, but he was quick to catch her and hold her up against him while she laughed in delight. “I have the absolute best husband in the world!”

Loki’s heart leapt in his chest when she called him her husband and when she moved her hands to cradle his face, he tenderly smiled up at her and replied, “Well, the best wife in the world deserves everything I can offer her and more, does she not?”

(Y/N)’s expression softened into a look of loving adoration, and the feather-light touch of her thumbs caressing his cheekbones nearly made his eyes flutter closed in bliss. “You know, I think about that day we first met in the library from time to time. I replay the entire scene my mind – how I stumbled and how you were by my side in an instant to catch me, how our eyes locked and my breath was nearly taken away by the way you looked at me, how my heartbeat sped up when I realized how much I enjoyed having your arms around me – and when I do, I thank the universe for sending a mischievous and misunderstood trickster to steal my heart that day.”

“When I think of that fateful day, I find myself thanking the Norns for sending a kind and passionate lost princess to spellbind me, body and soul,” Loki huskily replied as his eyes stung with the prickling of tears. “And I pray that she’ll never set me free.”

(Y/N), her eyes sparkling with unshed tears of joy, gently shook her head and leaned forward to ghost her lips over his. “As long as the trickster holds her heart, she never ever will. So…” She held her hand up and stuck her little finger into the air with the hint of a playful grin on her face. “Pinky-Promise?”

Loki laughed and adjusted his hold on her so that he could wrap his little finger around hers. “Pinky-Promise.”

Their lips finally met in a passionate and unhurried kiss and Loki sighed at the heavenly sensation of (Y/N)’s fingers carding through his hair, holding his beautiful wife in a tight embrace and smiling through the love-filled kisses they exchanged beneath the gazebo’s twinkling lights.

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A/N: I honestly loved writing this and indulging in some of my own personal wedding dreams lol if anyone would like to see the different reference pics I used while designing the wedding, just shoot me a message and I’ll send ‘em to you! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2wx8TZwpDN0l33tES3W3Nk?si=5fcb3ef04de544e7

Three’s Company (A Spellbinding-Verse Interlude)

“Spellbinding” Masterlist

Tagging: @nexiva @ravenclawbitch426 @cminr @confusedfandomwriter @momc95 @nickkie99 @austynparksandpizza @brooke0297 @a-laufeyson @outoftheregular @itscomplicatedx @0-artemis @vivloki @crowleysqueenofhell @groovy-lady @mostclevermiss

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