#why is there an apple in my dressing gown

[sunshine-and-hatred]

y’all it took me so many tries to read this correctly

[lokisgoodgirl]

Be Mine [Loki x Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: A morning meeting has an unexpected twist. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Language. Smutty. Avenger!Loki x Female Reader. Questionable flirting techniques. (w/c 2.8k)

The muscle at the side of Loki’s jaw flexed. He swallowed; an achingly glacial bob of his Adam’s apple making you want to claw your eyes out.

For some inexplicable reason he had opted to wear full leathers to today’s briefing.

It was seven nineteen in the AM. Thor was sporting a muscle vest boasting not one but three stains of varying complexity and a pair of shorts which left little to the imagination. Scott was wearing his dressing gown.

The rest of the team hung off chairs and flopped on the table in various states of undress. Steve stood at the head of the room as usual; prim and fresh in a crisp button-down and perfectly creased chinos.

“So what we’re seeing here,” Steve said, turning to the group from the Powerpoint, “is an up-tick in biological experiments-”

His eyes narrowed while they roamed over the doodling, distracted and hungover band sprawled around the table. “Lang.” he snapped. “Close your legs; there are ladies present.’

Scott shuffled up his seat, drawing the dressing gown down over his knees while mumbling apologies. A low rumble of mirth circled the room, but Loki’s gaze never left the Captain’s.

The curve of his dark lashes swept upward, features set in performative rapture. Loki's facial expression hadn’t changed as the scene unfolded, but for a miniscule twitch of his lip. Usually the two of you would exchange a few eye rolls; a few knowing smiles during a particularly turgid monologue about shoe storage post-mission...but not today. Today he hadn't even looked at you.

Steve sighed. He extended a finger and pushed his retractable pointer down to a stub. Pacing to the table, he dropped his head, laying his palms flat. When he looked up, disappointed-dad energy was thick in his eyes. “Folks, this just won’t do.” he said.

Natasha’s sunglasses slid down her nose. Scott crossed his legs making the swivel chair knock into Wilson and waking him up. The Falcon’s arms flew wide on instinct, whacking Tony in the chest. “Jesus Christmas-” Tony snorted, blinking wildly. “It was a party.” Natasha drawled, pushing the sunglasses back in place with disdain. “Maybe if you’d stayed after the cake you’d have those tight panties of yours in less of a spick, Rogers.”

“That’s Captain Rogers.” he snapped. “We’re on the clock.” “Calm down, Rogers.” Tony said, cresting his fingers. He was remarkably chipper for a man with whipped cream crusted in his hairline. “You’re all sitting on my clock. Remember that.”

Steve flushed scarlet. His eyes narrowed as Tony’s smirk grew.

“All I’m saying is it’s a sorry day when Laufeyson is the star pupil. Look at him!” Steve said, gesturing incredulously at Loki who remained in position; back straight, chin up. But now, one eyebrow arched. “All of you lot in your skivvies and Laufeyson’s in full dress?” Steve shook his head. “I fail to see the humour, Rogers.” Loki said. “Why is it so surprising that I come to our daily summons dressed thus? Certainly I have never presented myself in a tragic towelling monstrosity like Lang here.” “There was that one time with the silk nightie.” Sam whispered to Scott. Scott covered his mouth.

“A silk robe.” Loki snapped.

“Usually you only bring out the Asgardian shit when you’re brown-nosing. Or when you’ve done something shifty.” Natasha said, propping her chin up with a fist. You bet her eyes are closed. Wanda nodded behind her Starbucks.

“Or trying to impress someone,” the witch said. Natasha waved a finger in agreement. “Sexually.” Wanda added.

Loki released a scandalised snort. “How dare you.” he said. Leather creaked against his biceps as he folded his arms.

Beneath the table, your thighs squeezed together. The only thing hotter than Loki in leather, was an indignant Loki in leather. You suddenly became very aware of your quickened breaths making the buttons of your blouse strain. The god’s eyes darted to the side, meeting yours. “What?” he snarled. “Nothing.” you squeaked, swallowing. An awkward silence hung in the room. The scent of stale vodka suddenly seemed very strong. Steve sighed.

“Let’s call it for this morning-” he said, immediately met with muted hisses of celebration around the table. He patted down the air. “Rescheduled for this afternoon. Thirteen-hundred sharp. Wear clothes.” Approval turned to whines and hushed curses as chairs were swivelled and aching bodies shifted. “Unbelievable.” Loki snarled under his breath.

You watched out the corner of your eye as he stood; the flat of his iron stomach inches from your face. The scent of rich leather filled your nostrils while Loki’s fingers nipped beneath the hem of his tunic, tugging it down. He flipped the length of his cape with a sniff. You saw it swirl around his boots briefly as he stepped towards the window, clasping his hands behind his back.

Taking your time, you picked up each piece of carefully laid stationary at your seat. One by one, the rest of the team left the room. Steve was last, his hand hovering on the door handle while he shot you a wary look. As a parting gift, he opened the door wider. “You didn’t stay late?” Loki’s voice was a thick hum in the growing silence. His tone, inscrutable. “Huh?” “At the party.” he said. “You didn’t stay late.”

This time it wasn’t a question. “I usually head off when Thor starts making passes at everyone. I didn’t see you. Were you there?” “He did that?” Loki bristled. “To you?” There was a pause. “To everyone.” you repeated quietly. Loki’s shoulders stiffened. His fingers twitched, thumb digging into one exposed palm behind his back. He was still staring out the window.

“I’ll see you later.” you said, nerves fluttering in your belly. The god’s hair shortened as his chin dipped. You wondered how it would feel to wind those dark strands through your fingers as you rode him. Wondered how the grunts and signs and pretty curses from his lips would sound wet in your ear.

“No.” Loki said. “Excuse me?” “No,” he repeated.

You steadied against the table-top with the pads of your fingertips. Small stars began to burst in your field of vision. “I think the leather looks goo-good,” you stammered. And you didn’t know why.

The thought of him barring the exit of enemies in far flung realms using only that voice barged through the doors of your imagination with the force of a horny caveman. If that was the last sarcastic quip they heard, by god, you imagined they may just have died happy. And hard.

“It looks good.” you repeated, no more than a whisper. Loki turned his head. The sharp profile came into view at a glacial pace. First the peaked tip of his chin, then the slant of his regal nose, then the harsh peak of his cheekbone, then his eyes. Your ass met the table-top with a stumble. There was a small crease between his eyebrows. “Bold of you to make another jest without your compatriots around you, Agent.” he said. Across the short distance between you, venom dripped from his tongue; his hackles raised. “I wasn’t joking,” you said quietly as his gaze fell to your feet with a sneer. The quick breaths that made your buttons strain were back. Loki’s rising stare lingered on your breasts, a small smile tweaking at the corner of his mouth. Words tripped from your lips, forcing their way from behind your teeth. “I like it.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed. He turned fully with a ceremonial flourish, the hands clasped behind his back moving to the front and rippling his leather and silken cloak. It fluttered.

“Is that so?” he purred darkly. He didn’t believe you.

You imagined how this is how a rabbit felt in the eyeline of a fox. To look away was to admit weakness, vulnerability. It meant death. And yet – it was the only chance to escape. But did you want to escape? Not really. You wanted to feel the sharp of his teeth fasten to your neck as he sucked and bit and made violent love to every inch of you.

You nodded, not breaking eye-contact. Loki inhaled sharply, chin tilting up as he did so.

His eyes wandered over grim foam tiles as though an enemy lurked beyond the suspended ceiling. They narrowed, darting back and forth. With a thundering heart, you noted one of his heavy boots rise from the floor. He paced forwards slowly, ceremonially, stopping inches from you. Your fingers curled tight around the table’s edge, the messy in your panties beneath the skirt becoming intolerable. Loki cleared his throat. “Am I to understand, contrary to common rhetoric, that you find my Asgardian leathers enticing; Agent?” “I think ‘enticing’ is a little grandiose, is it not?” you laughed, cringing at the way you so easily mirrored his speech. Loki noticed it too. He tilted his head. “I am nothing if not grandiose, Agent.” Loki said. “Am I not impressive? Am I not imposing?”

He trailed a long finger down your bicep, his touch light as a feather. “So often, you mortals use such words as insult.” he mused.

“It is merely a reflection on your own feelings of inferiority. This morning is a perfect example. An attempt at ridicule to deflect from their own pathetic presentation. Each one more bedraggled and an abject embarrassment to their purpose than the last.” Heat began to rise in your cheeks as his finger drifted along your collarbone. There was a pause, his eyes dropping to your lips before the finger brushed the skin at the hollow of your neck. It graced upwards, tracing the curve and stopping beneath the tip of your chin. “But not you.” he said.

The god’s eyes snapped to yours. His cheekbones hollowed under fluorescent lights, mischief glowing from the depths of his irises and painted in every light wrinkle on his brow.

“What else do you like, Agent?” he goaded softly. “Do you like the idea of what lies beneath these leathers?” You swallowed thickly. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Loki-” you said, glancing towards the open door. He followed your eyes, rolling his own. With a flick of his hand the door slammed shut. “I want you,” he breathed, leaning closer so that the heat of his cheek warmed your own, “to tell me what else you like.”

You bit your lip, watching his beautiful face come back into view. With a prang, the thought occurred that perhaps you were not the rabbit after all. Perhaps you were the fox. Loki’s gaze lingered on your face, searching it.

Emboldened, you found the words. “Why should I?”

His brows peaked softly. He released a muted sigh, pursing his lips. “As much as I am loathe to admit it, Romanoff was right.” he said. The hand tilting your chin upwards returned to its mate, clasped against the leather tunic. “I was trying to impress someone, but not that insufferable Rogers.”

He raised his eyebrows.

Excitement blossomed deep in your belly; rising like shaken soda and fizzing around your chest. Loki bit his bottom lip.

“You see, Agent, I like you very much. And I’m afraid that now it has reached the juncture where I must know if you like anything about me...beyond my exquisite taste in battle armour.”

The change in his demeanour was so dramatic that you could only gape. But when it came to Loki, could you expect anything less? Without thinking you reached forward and grasped the belt slung over his chest, pulling him forward.

Loki’s mouth clashed with yours, the heat of his lips giving way to the thrust of his tongue. Your hands slid over his metal epaulettes, tangling in ebony waves that cascaded around his shoulders. He tasted like heaven, the scent of him deep and dangerously delicious in a way you’d never known. A scent a girl could lose herself in forever; gladly.

In seconds your back was flat against the table, its cool wood harsh against the heat of your skin through the blouse. Loki’s ravenous kiss consumed you, licking and dancing inside your mouth like a man possessed. His shallow moans ricocheted between slurps of his lips, wetness coating them.

“Tell me, you infuriating woman,” he panted as a thick forearm landed on the wood beside your head. The metal vambrace clanged against cheap wood. Saliva hung between your mouths as he stared deep into your soul; blue eyes darkening. “Tell me what you like.”

“About you?” you panted. Loki didn’t nod, only lowered his chin.

His nose nudged at your lips, dragging upwards, tongue tracing around the bottom one. He had begun to smile. One of his legs nudged your thighs wider. The god straightened and you felt a thrill run from your scalp to the tips of your dangling toes. He towered above like a monolith, leather tight to his rectangular body. Hair fell around his jaw, perfectly imperfectly wolfish curls flirting against his skin. His cape brushed against your bare calves as he shifted his stance, palms sliding up your thighs and pushing your skirt higher. “Yes; I like the idea of what’s beneath all this,” you whined as you pawed at his leather-clad stomach. It was so hard. Loki smirked, watching beneath half-lidded eyes. “I think about fucking you in the showers after training,” you whispered bashfully as your hips thrust up against your will. Loki raised an eyebrow. “More...” he rumbled. “I think about you all the time. All the awful things I want to do to you, y-you do to me- Loki, uhh-”

His hands crept higher as you spoke, fingers hooking around the hips of your panties. “If I pull these down, darling” he said with an air of reprimand, “will they be wet?” You let out a gasping moan, back arching against the table.

“Excellent.” Loki snickered, pulling the panties down the length of your legs before stepping back between them.

A hand flew to your mouth as you watched one long finger dip between your thighs, running lightly between your folds. He brought it to his lips, sucking gently. His cheekbones hollowed, finger slipping out. He swallowed with a groan of appreciation.

Loki settled himself between your legs, pushing them wider. The height of the table pressed your dripping centre against his crotch. You thought you might explode. His palms slid up your waist, exploring the curves of your body while your legs wrapped around his hips. The god’s cock pressed eagerly against the leather, strong and thick up the centre. His forearms came down at either side of your head, metal wrist-guards clinking.

“I will show you what it is to be mine,” he murmured in your ear.

Loki’s cock settled against your sex, rubbing in perfect gyration. “Oh...god,” you gasped as the weight of his body pressed against your own.

Fingers combed up from the base of his neck, tangling in his hair. The next moment, they grasped around his back, pulling him closer, catching in the folds of his cloak which draped across your bodies. The god grunted filthy praises in your ear as his bound manhood sent electric currents of pleasure deeper than you’d ever known. His searching lips found their way to your neck, your jaw. Every utterance from his throat more disgustingly sensual than the last. Hot leather filled your nostrils, the scent of him strong and intoxicating. Mounting orgasm bubbled in waves, a dream-like trance broken only with whispered groans of pleasure from your throats. Loki Laufeyson was about to make you cum. The thought was unbelievable. And yet, your pussy being tugged and massaged and owned by his leather-bound cock into the throes of heaven knew it to be true. Dry-humped like a teenager in the back of a pick-up.

“Be mine...” Loki mumbled breathlessly, a strangled choke gasping from deep in his chest. He immediately dove for a perishing kiss, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and releasing it with a wet suck. He smouldered down.

Against the bright lights, his dark halo shone; tendrils curling against your cheek and brushing with every calculated roll of his hips. Every muscle in your body tensed. Your legs tightened against his hips.

“Be mine,” he echoed. His face was twisted, and you suddenly wondered how close he was to cumming in those beautiful leather pants. “Loki-” you gasped, clutching at his cape. Back arching, the last thing you heard as climax stormed your brain were the matching pants of the god. The last thing you saw were his peaked brows above dilated pupils so deep you could drown in them.

In the afterglow, all you could manage were garbled phrases as your forearm draped over your eyes. “That was...unexpected.” you panted when the god’s weight lifted from your chest. “Perhaps for you.” Loki winked. “It was very carefully calculated on my part,” You watched in dazed disbelief as Loki sank to his knees, leather creaking, and hoisted your hips higher. He lapped at your soaking pussy, muffled moans seeping from his throat as he buried himself in your fresh pleasure. The flat of his tongue licked a thick stripe from the base to your swollen clit, placing a gentle suck on the tip. His eyes flickered up, meeting yours.

“Immaculate, as expected.” he breathed. His chin glistened.

You groaned as he withdrew; grasping at the air as he went. That small caress of him against your sex was everything you could ever have dreamed. Loki let you reluctantly arrange yourself before offering his hand for the short hop off the table. “Not exactly how I imagined our first time,” you said with a sheepish smile. Loki scanned your face.

“Agent don’t be insulting. That was merely a sample,” he scoffed. “It barely counts.” He stepped forward, pulling you flush against him with a flat palm at the base of your spine. “We must ensure you have eaten something before more intimate activities are indulged in; lest you faint. Or worse.” “Or worse?” “You are only mortal, after all.” Loki smiled slyly. “And this,” he gestured to his cock; hard and straining against the leather, “can be rather a handful. As well can his Master.” You slapped him on the shoulder. Loki smirked. Remembering the unexpected schedule change, you frowned. “You think we have time before the meeting later?”

Loki snorted. “We’re not attending. The two of us fulfilled our obligations, unlike the more cretinous members of our party.” You raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to get me in trouble, I can tell.” Loki’s fingers danced up your back, a light thrust of his hips making your body keen. His dirty exhale flooded your ear, the warm scent of him overloading your senses.

“Oh Agent,” he purred against the skin; his eyes darting covertly to the pair of panties discarded on the floor. “As if you expected anything less.”

Taglist (continued in comments)

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

[tradgedyinwaves]

his heaven on earth

I'm sorry I haven't been around much lately. Here's a random bit that implanted in my brain this morning.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader

tw: fatshaming behavior

something about Price's frumpy, round assistant, but the one who's really interested is Ghost.

Sure they all think you're gorgeous, but Ghost...Ghost has never seen someone so soft. From the roundness of your cheeks to the thick of your calves, he just wants to sink his fingers into the squishy parts of your body. And not even in a sexual way. (Well, not only in a sexual way.)

Everything about you screams peace and sanctuary and what he wouldn't give to press his face to the roundness of your tummy just to know what Heaven is like.

But despite his desires, the most you've ever received from him was a grunt when he turned in some reports for you to give to his captain. You had nodded up at him with wide eyes and the smallest smile, chirping out a 'thank you'.

When a military ball comes around and Price insists that you go, you immediately decline with the excuse that you don't have anything to wear. He tells you not to worry about it and that he'll take care of it. After fighting with him on it for twenty minutes, you conceded. Throwing up your arms as you headed back to your desk.

Did Price actually pay for the exquisite gown that now hung on the back of your door? Absolutely not. Ghost would rather set himself on fire before he let anyone else doing anything for you. Some people said he had a tendency to be possessive. He called it protective.

The military ball finally arrives and it requires a couple glasses of wine before you slide the gown on. It fits perfectly, tailored to your body shape and size and the color compliments your skin so nicely. The only information you'd provided to Price were your measurements (given only after you made him swear on his cigars that he wouldn't comment on the numbers - not that he would ever dare) and that you looked better in certain types of colors.

Your friend from base comes by to do your hair and makeup, keeping it light and fresh as you know you have a tendency to sweat in these situations.

And when you finally walk through the doors of the ballroom, Ghost is pretty sure his heart has never beat so hard. Not when he's laying in his sniper's nest about to pull the trigger on the head of a sex ring trafficker. Not when his team finally took out the leader of a terrorist group. Not even when he had a hook through his ribs.

You immediately fade into the background, grabbing a glass of champagne and standing against the wall. Price approaches you with that smile of his, the one that crinkles the corners of his eyes as he looks over you appreciatively.

"You look lovely, my dear. The dress fits you perfectly." You thank him as the apples of your cheeks turn pink before he tells you not to thank him - thank Ghost. That only darkens your blush as you duck your head when the captain leaves.

You don't go searching for Ghost to thank him and ask why he'd gotten you the dress because you're stopped by a gentleman you don't recognize. But you do recognize the smirk on his face and the sound of laughter coming from a group of his buddies.

As adults, one would think people would be mature enough not to poke fun at the big girl. But that didn't seem to be the case as the man struggled to ask you to dance through his laughter, eventually giving up and going back to his friends when he couldn't manage the sentence.

You wanted to leave after that, but that meant letting them win and you refused to give them that satisfaction.

So when Ghost finally found the courage to come and approach you, you thought it was another joke.

"Would you like to-" "Please, don't. Just...go away."

Ghost was not used to being interrupted and it showed in the way his black Balaklava twitched around his mouth.

"What's wrong, luv?" "Just...don't, Ghost. I'm not in the mood." "I just wanted to dance with you." "No, you didn't. You're just here to make fun of me like everyone else."

Ghost was stunned before it turned to anger. Who had hurt you like this?

"M'not. Just wanted to dance with you, promise."

You glanced up at him, meeting those dark orbs - the only part of Ghost you'd ever seen. They didn't crinkle at the corners like he was laughing at you and the way the fabric of his mask didn't move meant he wasn't holding back his laughter.

"You want to dance with me?" It was unbelievable to you that anyone would want to be seen with you, even if the dress you had on was gorgeous.

"O'course, yer stunning. Why wouldn't I?" Ghost had never been one to compliment women. His team got compliments all the time from him. "Well done, Gaz." "Good job, Johnny." "Nice shot, Cap." Those were easy.

With you, he was terrified he'd say the wrong thing and upset you. And that...he couldn't stand that. Watching those beautiful eyes of yours fill with tears because of him and his stupid mouth. It should be easy. Beautiful, gorgeous, ethereal, stunning. All words he felt described you and yet they didn't hold enough weight.

In the end, you agreed to dance with him. Just one, of course. But that went out the window as another bad joke of his pulled a giggle from you. He found he quite liked the tinkling sound of your laugh and the way your nose scrunched when he complimented you again.

And that night, he found out what it was like to watch his thick fingers dimple the roundness of your ass, to worship between your plush thighs as he deemed you a goddess. His grip left pretty bruises all over your body while his lips left his mark across your collarbone.

In the light of the morning, he leaned over your sleeping form as the suns rays gently shone on your face. There in that moment, you embodied peace and beauty, radiant even as drool slid from the corner of your parted lips.

His Heaven on Earth.

[ameliathornromance]

It’s your wedding day, bells are a ringing, the sky is clear and perfect, yet there’s one problem.

Your Orc best friend is in love with you.

And he’s not the groom.

The wedding dress hung on a hanger by the hotel door, wrapped in it’s protective plastic cover. He liked it the best, his favourite out of all the ones you’d tried on at the Wedding dress shop.

It’s not too much like a Princess gown, but it’s not too skin tight to the point it looks like club attire. A perfect balance, fit for a perfect woman like you.

His eyes misted as he thought about you approaching him in that dress, and how now, that will never happen.

You give your Orc best friend a toothy grin as you looked at him in the mirror, the hired makeup artist brushing blusher onto the apples of your cheeks. “You alright? You look like you’re going to cry.”

He really felt like he might as he tugged at the collar around his neck, trying to loosen the tie that seemed to grow tighter and tighter.

“Me? Nah,” He managed at your doubtful look. “You’re just imagining things.”

How had things turned out this way? You two had known each other since preschool, and he’d been in love with you for as long as he could remember.

So why hadn’t he told you how he felt about you? Was it that you always had eyes for other people? Or was it that whenever someone brought up the idea of you two seeing each other, you’d fake gagged and said, “like that would ever happen! He’s more like my brother!”

And for a while, your Orc was happy like that. Anything to keep the two of you together, as thick as thieves. He realises now, that he didn’t want to lose the connection the two of you had.

That’s why he hadn’t said anything.

But that’s when your partner had come in to your life. He was everything that your Orc wished he could be. Chill, easy-going and friendly.

Your best friend hated that he too, took a liking to the guy.

When you two had gotten together, your Orc assumed that this would just be another hiccup in the swell of your many other boyfriends you’d had in the past.

As much as you didn’t like to hear it, your best friend constantly teased you about not being able to keep a boyfriend for more than a year.

It was always so adorable the way you blushed and told him to be quiet, nudging him in the ribs and earning a bark of laughter from him.

But as the months went by, your best friend watched as you slowly fell more and more in love with this new lover of yours.

He had to constantly fight the urge to sabotage your relationship, knowing that it wasn’t a healthy way to feel towards you. In order to combat this, he distanced himself.

It ripped him apart to do it, rejecting your calls, ignoring your texts and dismissing you if you ran into each other in public.

The last thing he wanted was to make you unhappy. You deserved all the happiness in the world and more, he couldn’t just take that away from you.

It wasn’t until you spam called him one night in tears that he picked up. You begged to know what you’d done wrong, if there was a way to fix it. Your teary sobs could be heard down the phone, adding another dagger to his heart.

He realised that there was nothing he could do. He’d tried to squash his feelings, push you away, but it was no use.

You needed each other like you needed air to breath.

On the call that night, he’d reassured you that there was nothing wrong, life had just gotten in the way and that he was sorry he’d been treating you so poorly.

He cried too, at the hopelessness of the situation.

Your Orc wanted to be angry with you, to snap at you and demand to know why you have to make him suffer by forcing him to watch you be happy with another man.

But it’s not like he was in any position to do that. What right did he have? When he couldn’t even muster up the courage to tell you how he felt?

He didn’t have the energy for fury. Not that there would be any point to it in the first place.

And just like that, your friendship resumed as if nothing had ever happened.

The day you had called him to show off your engagement, a part of him died inside.

He congratulated you, told you he’d be there on your wedding day, be your best man and then went on a drive. Phone turned off, he sped at furious speeds trying to shake off the utter despair that consumed him until he found a place to pull over.

His hands shook as he gripped the steering wheel, before he pulled his head into his hands and sobbed.

The year of wedding preparations passed agonisingly slow, spending your time looking at wedding dresses, wedding favours, venues and bridesmaids dresses. But the moment the date was set, it seemed to fly by.

The dreaded wedding day had come, your Orc best friend in his suit, stood at the alter beside your bridesmaids, looking completely out of place amongst them.

While they all chatted excitedly, he stood in resolute silence.

Your groom stood opposite him, straightening his jacket and fiddling with his cufflinks as they waited for your grand entrance.

When your makeup was done, he had been ordered out of the room. “It’s a surprise!” You had told him.

Your best friend managed a smile, “you know that I’ve already seen you in it-” but his words were cut off, by the door being slammed in his face by your mother.

The Orc felt as though the man you were marrying, was way too relaxed. Your best friend almost wanted to grab the man and shake him, while he snaps that he should be anxious as he’s marrying the most amazing person in the world.

But he resists. The one day of your life where you are marrying the man of your dreams, would not be ruined by him.

The time for you to appear came and went, with no sign of you.

Happy chattering had died out, exchanged for nervous glances and anxious looks at the entrance to the hall.

Even your fiance got frustrated. “Where is she?” He muttered. “Catering was expensive, she knows this.”

At that, your best friend couldn’t stand by any longer. “I’ll talk to her.” He muttered to the groom. “Stay here, I’ll come back if somethings wrong.”

Arriving at the room he’d been kicked out of before, your father stood outside, knocking on the door. “Honey, it’s going to be okay.” He was saying. “Everyone feels like this, I nearly… um…” Your father gave an anxious look to your best friend as he stopped beside him. “Your Orc friend is here honey, if you’ll talk to him.”

After a moment, the door latch clicked and your father gave a helpless look to the Orc.

Your Orc nodded at him and entered the room.

If you had been perfect on the fitting day, then it was nothing compared to how you looked now.

Even as you were curled up on the floor, knees hugged to your chest, veil crowned on top of your head, you still looked amazing.

“What’s gotten you in a tizzy?” Your best friend sighed, kneeling down in front of you. “You can’t cry now, you look too pretty.”

Sniffling, you said, “thank you… I’m not making a mistake, am I?”

Your friend froze. That, was the last question he expected you to ask. “Why do you think you would make be making a mistake?”

“I dunno,” you ran a finger under your eye, “my friends are all saying I’m doing the right thing, but… what if I just got too caught up in it all? The candle lit dinners, the boxes of chocolate, the romance of it all.”

Your best friend nodded as you gave another sniff. “What if when the rose tinted glasses come off, he’s not all I thought he was? And then I’m going to have to get a divorce and-”

“Hey.” Your Orc cut you off. He envisioned a hand gripping his heart, squeezing it tightly. “You’re catastrophising, what was it that your therapist said to do when you feel that way?”

“Think the opposite of the bad stuff.”

The hand in your Orcs head twisted at his heart, pulled at the aorters that kept it in place.

“So, what does that look like?”

You dried your eyes and leaned forward. “Well… We buy a house together,”

“Yeah?” He could see it now. You and your groom in front of white picket fence, clear, sunny skies above.

“And we get a dog,”

Your Orc smiled, “a golden retriever?”

You nodded, a teary smile adorning your face. “Yeah, one we get as a puppy that grows big way too quick and had got so used to sleeping on our bed that he doesn’t know what personal space is.”

An excitable pup bounds into the image he created in his head, frisbee in mouth, drool dripping out it’s mouth.

“And then after a year, we have a baby.”

With one, hard tug, the Orcs heart comes free. He suppresses the tears by standing and holding a hand out to you. “What’d you want to name the baby?” He asked, his voice hoarse.

You take his hand and stand up, the smile now broad, “I’m not sure. Lily if it’s a girl, Jonah if it’s a boy.”

Your best friend gave a bark of laughter, “and I’m guessing I’d be uncle, right?”

“Duh,” you snorted. The two of you locked eyes for a moment. In that second, he could have sworn he saw something behind your eyes, something like… regret? Or was it disappointment?

“You ready?” He asked you.

And with one, dreadful nod, you sucked in a deep breath and headed for the door to your room.

“Your dads outside, he’s worried about you.”

Your hands only remained connected for a second, but it felt like an eternity. And once your soft skin had left his, your best friend lowered his head and let out a shaky breath.

How he wished he could have been the groom to your bride and have that picket fence dream.

Hi! Thank you so much for reading my story! If you like this kind of content, you should check out my Patreon! There, I post stories twice a week and earlier than I post on Tumblr. I also post exclusive stories there too where you won’t be able to find anywhere else.

If you’re not sure about signing up, I have a 7 day free trial enabled so you can see if you like my work written there!

Taglist <3

@sunndust @greenie-c

[mytheoristavenue]

MHA Commoner!Eijiro Kirishima x Princess!Reader - So This is Love? - I

Summary: You, the princess, surprise a poor village boy with an invitation to the royal ball.

Warnings: Reverse harem, fluff, angst, quirkless!au, royal!au, love at first sight, social class difference, princess x commoner trope

The carriage came to a sudden halt, making your body rock forward in your seat. Patiently, you awaited the footman to open the door and help you out. When you were standing, you couldn't hide the eager grin on your powdered face.

"Is this the correct place, m'lady?" the footman asked, glancing around with a haughty expression. "Looks a tad...dingy."

"Nonsense," you laugh him off, stepping forward, expensive heels digging into the mud. "I'm sure this is the correct address."

Noticing the way your heels sink, he promptly offers his arm, helping you to the door of the humble cobbler's shop. Stepping into the threshold, you smile fondly, finding a short, plump woman sitting at a desk in the corner. "Afternoon!" She calls, focused on her task. "What can we do ye for?" When she finally turns to face you, her smile drops and her already fair skintone becomes all the more pale.

"Y-Your Majesty!" She bows nervously. "T-To what do we owe the pleasure?"

You smile warmly, stepping closer, bowing to her as well. "I was hoping to have a word with a man I'm told works here," you answer, presenting a letter with a red wax seal. "I've come to deliver him an invitation. Eijiro Kirishima, is he here, ma'am?"

"My son?" The woman asks, tilting her head before nodding and turning to enter another room of the shop, dipping under half curtain that served as a divider. Moment's later, a young man with bright red hair and matching eyes peers out, scanning the room curiously.

His back straightens instantly when his eyes fall on you, standing in the front room of his family's shop, clad in an elegant day gown, eyes peeking over an equally ornate handfan. "Y-Your Highness!" He gasp, eyes blown wide as he stands up straight, akwardly hitting his head on the doorframe.

With a hiss a rub to the crown of his head, he steps out, kneeling in front of you. "W-What are you doing down in the village?" He asks, clearly flustered.

You simply giggle behind your fan, extending a hand down to him to kiss. His Adam's Apple bobs when his eyes fall on your perfectly manicured nails and blushed knuckles. Hestitantly, his calloused hands cradle yours, which has never known labor. With a sharp exhale, he brings your hand up to his lips, eyes flickering to yours as he plants a ghostly kiss on your knuckles. His gentle nature puts a glow in your cheeks as you giggle at his bashfulness.

"I can to visit you, good sir," you finally reveal, a sweet mystique in your tone.

"M-Me?" he repeats in disbeleif. "F-For what reason?"

You offer him the envelope, fingers brushing against his as he takes it from you. "I would like to cordially invite you to the royal ball this evening," you explain, collapsing your fan and resting it against your chest, batting your lashes at him. "As my personal guest."

"I-I'm speechless, You Highness..." He pauses, deicately opening the letter and reading over the cursive words within. "W-Why me?"

"Say you'll attend," you insists with a warm smile.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," he mutters timidly, folding the letter very carefully back into the envelope. "I have nothing but the clothes on my back, I haven't the proper dress to attend a royal gathering."

"I worried as much." You admitted sadly before smiling again. "Which is why I took the liberty of having the royal seamstress tailor a custom suit for the occassion."

"J-Just for me...?" Kirishima gasp, eyes glossy at your gesture. You nod, confirming his assumptions.

"Please accompany me, it would mean the world to me..." you beg one last time, leaning in slightly.

"I-I'd be honored, Your Majesty..." He finally relents, still in disbelief before a childish grin cracks across his face. "Yes, of course I'll go!"

"Oh, that's fantastic news!" you exclaim with delight, reaching out and capturing his hands, holding them to his hands. "I'm overjoyed." You beam, letting him go, preparing to take your leave. "A carriage will send for you an hour before sunset, no need to make ready ahead of time. You'll have a warm bath and a private room awaiting you at the castle."

Kirishima once again finds himself silenced by your generousity, only uttering a small: "T-Thanky you, Princess..." as he watches you leave the shop, waving with fan in hand.

[readychilledwine]

Cleavage/Collarbones Headcanons

Warnings - as someone who recovered from an eating disorder, I know collarbones can be a very triggering topic. Please proceed with caution.

A/n - 4 of our main girlies to start.. Let me know if we want a part 2 and who should be on it

✨️Acotar Body Headcanons Masterlist✨️

Feyre

Due to Feyre being an archer, I headcanon she has very defined skeletal-muscular build through her chest and shoulders, including her collarbones

Momma has built shoulders and strong arms. It's possibly the strongest muscle grouping in Feyre's body aside from that human heart of hers.

I imagine it's one of her features Rhysand is secretly madly in love with. They're like the perfect framework for any necklaces he gives her.

Something about Feyre's collarbones in my mind screams they'd be elegant on top of everything, but I see Feyre growing into more of a class sex appeal VS male gaze sex appeal outside of the CoN now that she is a mother.

Breasts change a lot with motherhood as well, so I imagine that's motivation for her to continue working her upper body.

I see deep plunging necklines being replaced with sweetheart cuts that dip a bit more in the center, highlighting her.. What was it Rhysie said? Ripe apple-like breasts coming.

Listen, becoming a mom doesn't mean you can't still be sexy (at least lie to me and echo chamber that for me, please) but I think it would change Feyre's cleavage style significantly.

I honestly would find her dressing like this so powerful. She's gone through her spring phase, her high lords play toy phase, let her have a "this is the only preview you get," phase with a new, fuller, hot mom bod, SJM. Please, your mother readers are begging for it.

Mor

Mor is an engima to me. I don't know why.

I don't imagine her with collarbones that capture your attention, but I think that's because I see Mor with a very regal neck, if that makes sense?

Her neckline creates that flow to her very soft collarbones. They're definitely visible, but not that way I believe other females are.

Mor has her fashion set to follow the flow of her body lines, hence the cutout gowns.

I think with Mor, underboob and inside boob cleavage is more popular than traditional top cleavage.

I may be picturing her dresses wrong, but I always picture those dresses girls bought in like early like... 2010s to be Greek goddesses for Halloween. Some of you will know exactly what I'm talking about. Others are about to find out.

Mor strikes me as too confident to worry about modesty and I don't hate her for that.

I mean, if I was a female general and had a body like Mor does, I too would show off my underboobs as a way to show my abs.

Nesta

Ness has collarbones you dream of sipping red wine from. I was going to make that all this section says. I was told that was unfair.

There's something about Nesta that screams collarbone. I don't think she's an unhealthy weight by any means, I just picture her with that built there they are deep and pronounced.

Nesta, I see, as very modest despite fanart depicting her otherwise. I do not think you get to see Ness and her collarbones as often as you may like, and when you do it is a treat.

I imagine Nesta in a lot of square neck lines that maybe have an illusion netting to show a bit of cleavage, but I do not see her in the deep dipping dresses she is sometimes shown in. I know they may have been canon, but, it's canon that feels un-Nesta to me.

Elain

Big girls, where we at?

It's no secret I picture Elain as a plus size girly, and while it is possible for plus sized women to have very visible collarbone built (it's as much about skeletal structure as it is the fluff), I do not picture this for Elain.

In general, I see Elain much softer than her sisters both on the inside and in physical appearance, and those who've gotten to know me best know I think Elain is easily the most attractive of the 3.

Elain has the collarbones that are noticeable when her head is angled just right.

She's thought about making a bargain, hoping the mark would high light them more. That was met with a soft smile from Rhysand, his hand gently touching her face, "That's not how that works, Elain." Rhysand would then introduce her to glimmery cosmetics called highlighters she uses to add some sparkle to her collarbones.

Elain is my off the shoulder moment sister and due to that, I imagine her necklines being similar to Feyre's: Sweethearts, but make it cutesy sexy

I think Elain is a little more bold than Nesta cleavage wise, but not as bold as Feyre may be.

Elain is more willing to show some upper chest and I love her for it.

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

I'll come pick it up after pt.4

John Egan X Female! Reader

Sumarry: The morning of the mission, Bucky becomes overprotective of HIS nurse.

Warning: Historical inaccuracies/ Swearing/ insults/ blood/ violence/ use of Y/n/ crying/

Word count: 1,8k

When they both went to sleep that night, they kept thinking about what just happened in the woman’s office. They almost had sex, in her office. Bucky was thinking about her hand on his crotch, and his hand on her breast. And he kept thinking about the fact that she put his hand there. His jacket had her scent, it drove him mad. Buck was apologizing for interrupting them, he felt bad. ‘’Buck, I told you many times, it’s okay. You’re right, I have to sleep. I’m not mad at you, and I don’t think Y/n’s mad either’’ he said to his friend. ‘’So, Elodie, uh, what did you say to her?’’ they talked about the young nurse, how Buck was nervous to talk to her, but he went anyway.

Y/n was tossing and turning, she couldn’t sleep. Egan’s touch was still in her mind, she couldn’t get him off her mind. So, she got up, she was dress in her night gown. She put a vest on top of it, so if she got cold, she could have something to warm her up. She made her way to the kitchen, to take an apple and something non alcoholic to drink. When she entered the kitchen, there was a light on. Curious, she made her way to the light, cautiously she announced herself. ‘’Hello?’’ a voice responded. She entered the kitchen to find Harry Crosby. ‘’Oh, Harry, it’s you.’’ She said relived. ‘’Didn’t mean to scare you, what are you doing up at this time?’’ he asked. ‘’Can’t sleep, you?’’ ‘’Same thing’’ they both smiled at each other. ‘’I saw you, at the party, but you were busy with Egan, I didn’t want to interrupt’’ he starts. ‘’How are you adapting to the base?’’ he asks. ‘’It’s fine, the girls are amazing, and the soldiers are, welcoming.’’ She smiled at the last word she pronounced. ‘’I heard that you got the eyes of Egan. Is that why you were with him all night’’ Y/n chuckles and blush a little. Crosby’s eyes went on the necklace she was wearing. ‘’And why you’re wearing his necklace, what’s going on between the two of you?’’ She looked at her friend. ‘’Honestly, Croz, I have no idea. I just know that there’s a tension between us and yeah.’’ She spoke. For the record, she had no idea what her relationship with Bucky was. ‘’Just be careful, he’s a lady’s men’’ he warned her. ‘’Trust me, I know that, but thank you for caring.’’ She was thankful for Harry Crosby. When he came in her office for the first time, it was because he kept vomiting when he was in the air. After that, he came back to tell her that the medicine she gave him, worked. They kept talking, but they were great friends, since he was married, Y/n didn’t have to worry about him making a move on her.

Y/n woke up at 4:30 am, she and her nurse had to make breakfast for the soldiers. She put on her blue uniform, her hair was still in the braid crown from yesterday, so she kept it that way. When the nurses came in the kitchen, they were surprised to see Gale Cleven already there. Elodie smiled at him, Meatball, as usual, went to see Y/n. ‘’Hi doggie! How are you!’’ she petted the animal, while his owner came towards her. ‘’Good morning, Y/n, can I speak with you?’’ he asked. ‘’Sure, just give me one minute, I need to tell the girls the menu’’ she instructed the girls what to do and went to speak to Buck. They seated at an empty table. ‘’What are you doing up, this early?’’ ‘’I want to apologize for yesterday, for interrupting you and Bucky. What you guys were doing is none of my business, and I just wanted to apologize’’ The girl smiled, the men in front of her looked nervous. ‘’Thank you for apologizing, but don’t worry, Bucky is a soldier, he must have a good night of sleep before a mission. I’m not mad at you’’ she reassured Buck. He looked relived. ‘’Can you look after Meatball when we’re not here? And I promise to look after Bucky’’ he extended his hand, to make it official. She smiled and shook his hand.

The boys were starting to come in to get their breakfast. Y/n was supervising her girls, making sure everything was okay, that none of the soldiers were mean to them. ‘’I told you, my food is cold, bitch!’’ a soldier yelled at one of the nurses. Y/n quickly came at the scene. ‘’What’s going on, private?’’ She said to the soldier, behind her counter. ‘’God can any of those cunts hear me! MY FOOD IS COLD’’ He yelled, getting everyone’s attention in the cafeteria. ‘’Go help Daisy, I got this Mary’’ she told the nurse that was getting yelled at. She took a deep breath and than, looked at the men straight in the eyes. ‘’First of all, don’t ever disrespect my girls like that, we volunteered, just like you. Geeting yelled at by pricks like you wasn’t in the contract.’’ The men tried to talk, but Y/n shushed him. ‘’Second of all, we serve dozens of men, the portions are already made, you just got one that we made early this morning. If you ask nicely, maybe I can personally warm it up for you.’’ She tried to be nice, but he was getting on his nerves.

The men yelling caught the attention of every soldier. Including John Egan’s attention. His back was facing the scene, so he didn’t see that it was Y/n getting yelled at. ‘’I won’t ask nicely, isn’t it in your contract to serve warm food, bitch’’ He was speaking loudly, but since the room went quiet, everyone could hear the altercation. ‘’Isn’t it basic manners to speak nicely at a woman.’’ Y/n responded quietly. ‘’God this nurse doesn’t let him be mean to her’’ Bucky whispered to his friends. ‘’Isn’t it your nurse?’’ Curt stated, pointing at the nurse. Bucky turned around to see HIS nurse, getting yelled at by the men. He was about to get up, but Buck put a hand on his shoulder, to stop him from getting up he didn't want his friend to get in trouble. Plus Y/n looked like she handled the men by herself. Every man in the room was watching the scene. ‘’What did you say to me, skank’’ The angry men spat in the face of the chief nurse. ‘’Do you want your warm meal, or not?’’ The men took his plate and threw it at Y/n, the plate broke on the glass, but a piece went at her, cutting her on the cheek. Egan wanted to rip his head off, he hurt his nurse. ‘’Congratulation, you lost your meal, and you’re gonna get arrested for assault. Have a good day sir’’ she said as the military police arrested the men. ‘’Everyone goes back to your plates!’’ one of the Corporal said. Egan quickly got up and went to the medic center, which was next door, to see if she was okay.

Y/n was holding a tissue to her cheek, to stop the bleeding. She was still in shook of what just happened. How could’ve stayed so calm? Her head was down, she was just feeling so many emotions at the time. She heard the door open. ‘’I’ll give you my statement after I clean my wound’’ she said to the military police. ‘’I don’t need your statement, darling, I was there’’ Bucky said as she raised her head to look at him. He approached her, getting closer to her, he could see the food on her skirt, the blood on her shirt and her eyes, full of tears. ‘’I’m okay, really, it was nothing’’ she said, her voice breaking down. ‘’Let’s go in your office, it’ll be quieter’’ he proposed. She nodded, following him to her office. Where they were last night, but there wasn’t any tension in the air now. Bucky was angry, this dick had hurt his girl. As soon as the door was closed, she started crying. ‘’I don’t even know why I’m crying. He got arrested and I only have a small cut. I’m okay, really’’ she said with a lump in her throat, she didn’t want to appear vulnerable in front of him. ‘’Let me look, darling’’ ‘’Bucky, I’m okay, go back to your friends’’ she tries to push him away. ‘’Not until you’re okay. Do you need a hug?’’ She nodded and he opened his arms, Y/n came closer to him. She cried in his arms as he reassured her, telling her that everything was going to be okay, that she was safe with him. When she felt better, she took the tissue off her wound, Bucky didn’t know anything about medicine, but he got her what she said she needed and help her, the best he could. ‘’Now, can you give me a smile, darling’’ she smiled to him, it wasn’t a forced smile, she was happy that he was here. ‘’I’m leaving for my mission soon, but when I come back, I’m going to get my necklace back, keep it safe from pirates’’ Bucky joked. Again, she laughed. ‘’Don’t ask anyone to punch you in the face this time’’ she adds, this time, Egan’s laughing. ‘’Be careful out there, come back in one piece’’ she seriously said. He nodded and kissed the top of her head. ‘’Kiss me, before you leave, please’’ He did as she asked and kissed her. There weren’t any sexual tensions, they were kissing because she asked him to do so, because even if they don’t want to admit it to each other, this might be the last time they see each other. ‘’I’m serious, Major, come back to me’’ she said as he left the room. ‘’Promise’’ he said before going back to his friends.

It was the time for him to leave, she went to the runway with other nurses. Crosby ran to her, she had to give him medicine, but he wanted to know if she was okay. ‘’Oh, my lord, Y/n are you oaky?’’ he hugged her. As he broke the hug, he looked at her face. ‘’Nothing I can’t fix, here’s your medicine Croz, be careful’’ She handed him the pills. Harry took the pills and left. Bucky and Buck walked towards her. ‘’Are you alright?’’ Buck asked. She nodded. ‘’More scared than hurt’’ she said. ‘’Meatball’s coming, hold on I’ll get him’’ Buck says as he leaves. ‘’No sad stuff. Just think about the cross around my neck’’ she said. ‘’I will darling, I’ll come back, and we can continue where we left off last night.’’ She blushed and chuckled. She gently hit his shoulder, indicating him to go in his plane. Bucky winked at you before getting inside. Buck gave you Meatball. ‘’Don’t forget your part of the deal’’ she said, getting a nod from Buck. He swore to protect his best friend, that’s what he was going to do, until Bucky was back in her arms.

Part 5⬇️

[winwintea]

yours for the night - jay park

PAIRING ▸ park jong-seong x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ fluff, romance, idk theres a ball, time period doesn't really matter i guess, jay is gentleman as always, relationship not really defined, just date already. also happy birthday jay <33

WORD COUNT ▸ 1.5K (not proofread)

One sunny afternoon, you went to visit Jay by himself.

“Come in, have a seat.” Jay gestured for you to sit down across from him. It’s unusual for you to come visit him. Was something on your mind? He felt a bit concerned as he noticed the hesitant way you looked at him. “There was something you wished to talk to me about?”

“Yes… what kinds of things do you like, Jay? Do you have any hobbies, or-”

“Hm? This is awfully out of the blue, isn’t it?” 

A flustered look passed over your face as you hastily continued. “I’m sorry, I know it seems sudden. I’m just curious though. I’ve never had the chance to sit down and talk with you alone like this before.”

Ah. Now he understood. Jay felt relieved that it wasn’t something more serious. “...hobbies or things that I like… Hm…” He paused, before looking up at you smirking, “So you’ve taken an interest in me, have you?” he teased you a bit, your face immediately flushing.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that!” You had such an adorable reaction. Jay couldn’t help but smile when he saw how nervous you were.

“I know that. I was only teasing. Would I be correct in assuming that you’re trying to think of a birthday present for me?” busted.

Your eyes grew wide as he continued, “I saw you and Jake talking this morning in the foyer, and I heard my name. So I had a hunch that’s what you two were talking about.”

“I’m sorry… I should have tried a more indirect way of asking.”

“Not at all. I appreciate the thought, truly.”

“And I appreciate everything you have done for me, Jay. That’s why I’d really love to get you a present.” That was very sweet, Jay felt his face flush a little, but he brushed it off quickly.

“...Shall I make a special request, then?”

Your eyes sparkled with happiness, making him smile even more, “Of course!”

“Spend some time with me the night of my birthday”

“Pardon?” you cocked a brow, looking at him confused.

“You’re not going to back out now, are you?” Your bewilderment only made him want to tease her more. But you quickly agreed and left the room, ears red as apples.

He would need to prepare a bit. He’d need to contact the tailor, first thing. Then he would have a brand new gown made for you in no time.

It was the night of Jay’s birthday. He had brought you to a high-society party, and you looked absolutely stunning in your new dress. Your eyes were wide as you looked around the ballroom with wonder.

“This is what you wanted for your birthday present?” You turned and looked at him, the light from the chandeliers dancing in your eyes.

“That’s right. You don’t like it?” Jay gauged your reaction tentatively. He had only given you the dress and told you where they were going shortly before they had left.

“Oh, no! That’s not it at all… I’m honored to accompany you, Jay. It’s only that… This seems more like it’s a present to me! You gave me this beautiful gown after all…” Your cheeks were the color of delicate pink roses. You looked more beautiful than Jay had ever seen you before, in the new dress and sparkling jewels he had given you.

“You are mistaken, though. This is most definitely a present for myself.” He was about to continue, but someone had interrupted him.

“Well, well! I am so very glad to see you, Jay!” A man strode over to Jay with a warm smile. 

“Ah, Viscount Lee. Thank you so much for your invitation tonight.” “But of course! Your presence honors me, Jay. And who is this lovely lady?” The Viscount’s eyes trailed over towards your direction.

“Allow me to introduce her. This is y/n, and I have the honor of hosting her at my manor for the time being.” You bent into a slight curtsey from beside Jay.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“The pleasure is all mine, I am sure. I hope you will enjoy yourself this evening. Have you been out to the balcony yet?” The Viscount eagerly looked at Jay again.

“No, is there something there?” “Only a view of the night sky that would shame any other! I highly recommend it to the lady.” His face lit up as he looked between you and Jay once more, “I’ve opened it up tonight as a place where couples can be alone and talk, if you get my meaning…” 

Well it seems as though he’s got the wrong idea. “Thank you. We shall have to go take a look later.” Jay answered with a very wry grin, and now someone else came to greet him.

“Why Jay! I wasn’t expecting you to be here tonight! How have you been!” And then another approached him, “My, what a lovely partner you have with you tonight!” Your big eyes grew even wider as a small group surrounded him. It seemed as though Jay would have to mingle for a while before you two could be alone.

At last, Jay had greeted all the nobles and you were free to enjoy yourselves. He took you out to the balcony to give you a break from the stimulation of the party, which he knew you weren’t quite used to. 

“Wow, it really is stunning!” “It is.” Countless stars were strewn across the sky, glittering like sand in the moonlight. You gazed up at them and then turned towards him, but suddenly your face twisted with pain. “y/n?”

“I-I’m fine.” You hastily put a smile on your face and continued, “Happy Birthday, Jay.”

“Thank you.” “You seem to know a lot of people?” You looked at him, changing the subject again.

“I think you’re hiding something from me, y/n.” His expression remained firm.

You looked up at him in surprise, “...Whatever do you mean, Jay?”

“You said it yourself, I seem to know a lot of people. I’m a very observant person, and careful with the words I use. It’s not easy to hide things from me.” He’d considered pretending that he didn’t know. But he couldn’t bear seeing you in pain any longer.

And so he lifted you into his arms without any further hesitation.

“J-Jay?!” You blushed furiously in his grasp,  yelping with surprise.

“You have a blister and you are pushing through the pain.”

“I-It’s really nothing, so…” 

“No.” He looked at you sternly, “We must take care of it immediately. I shall go get something to bandage you up. Until then, I want you to sit here.”

“...I’m sorry to cause you trouble like this on your birthday, Jay.” He was actually enjoying himself so much that it made him sad she was apologizing. 

Jay smiled at her, then whispered softly in her ear, “If you want to make it up to me… Let me kiss you, right here and now.” “W-What?” 

He brought his lips close to your skin, so tender and fragrant. And you squeezed your eyes shut. But it seemed as if your reaction was purely out of surprise, than rejection. And so he planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

“It’s almost as if you crossed time itself to come into my life, y/n. You’re a miracle. I can think of no greater present than spending a night alone with you. Also… time is something that we only have so much of, so it is truly a priceless thing.” Jay smiled at you, staring deeper into your eyes, “So you see, spending time with you, my beauty, means more to me than any object you could ever give.”

You frowned sadly at him, and looked into his eyes with firm resolve, “Please don’t say that Jay.”

“Y/N?” “Time may pass. But… You and I are sharing this moment right now, aren’t we? It belongs to us and no one else.” Jay just stared at you unable to find the words to respond, “Giving you my time as a present isn’t enough for me. Please… Tell me what you want. Tell me anything at all, and I shall give it to you if I can. All I want is to give you something in return.”

He wasn’t expecting that. You were so passionate and gentle that he couldn’t help but chuckle. Why were you so adorable?

“Jay? What is it?” “It’s nothing.” You gave him a puzzled look, but he shook his head. “Perhaps I shall take you up on your offer.”

“Please do.”

Jay pressed his lips on your forehead again and whispered, “...Stay in my arms tonight, just a little longer. Will you do that?” He wasn’t sure if it was because you wanted to or because you were merely being shy, but you relaxed against him then. 

He didn’t regret telling you what he truly wanted; but he realized he was consumed with appreciation for your warmth pressing against him. Was this affection for you? Or was it a different kind of attraction…?

Someday, you would overstay your experience as a guest in his house and leave, and he would have to bid you farewell with a smile. Yet, there was a part of him that wished this sweet, tender moment could go on forever.

But he would have to keep that a secret from you.

[bullet-prooflove]

4000 Follower Celebration: Finish What I Started - Dean Archer x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989@helsinkibaby @hufflepuffgirl @mimi-8793

There are so many things that Dean hates about his illness. The hours he spends attached to dialysis machine, the exhaustion, the constant pain and discomfort.

None of that compares to his inability to physically express his love for you.

He tries, oh Lord he does but his dick, it just won’t cooperate.

“It’s ok.” You tell him as you straddle his hips, your fingertips tracing over his grizzled cheek. “It’s just a side effect of the dialysis.”

It’s the first time you’ve tried being intimate since he started this course of treatment and Dean had never envisioned it would have this effect on him. He knows it happens to other people but he never thought it would happen to him.

You can see he’s shutting down. The shame it flushes up his features as he raises to his feet, tugging on his underwear.

“Dean…��� You murmur.

He doesn’t say anything, he simply pads into the bathroom and closes the door behind him. You understand that he needs space, it’s not easy accepting the limitations you body puts on you, especially for a man like Dean.

You give him ten minutes, anything more and you know he’s going to end up trapped in his own head. You rap your knuckles lightly on the door.

“We should talk about it.” You say softly and Dean, he doesn’t respond.

Instead he sits on the other side of the door, his head resting against the wood with his elbows on his knees. He can’t explain how impotent he feels in this moment. This illness, it’s eating away at him, it’s taking everything.

He knows if he lets it, it will take you too.

Shit like this, it erodes a marriage, it grinds it into the ground and he doesn’t want that for the two of you.

It takes him a minute to find the courage to leave the bathroom, to gather up his strength to confront the issue. It isn’t just about him, he remembers, it’s about you too. It’s about reminding his loving, passionate wife that he’s still attracted to her, that he wants her as much as she wants him.

You’re still lingering by the door when he opens it, clad in his charcoal grey dressing gown. He leans against the frame as he cups your face, his thumb chasing over the apple of you cheek.

“It’s not you.” He whispers. “You’re beautiful, sexy, any man would…”

“Let’s not go there.” You say gently, your hand coming to rest upon his, cradling it to your face. “Let’s not talk about other men, not when the one I want is standing here in front of me.”

“I hate not being able to love you.” He tells you, his forehead coming to rest upon yours. “Not being able to bring you pleasure…”

“Dean,” You whisper against his lips. “There are other ways to make me forget anything but your name, there are things we try, medications.”

“I know sweetheart, I know.” He murmurs, his fingers coming to rest on the knot that cinches your robe closed. He loosens it and the fabric falls open revealing your bareness. “We can look into that later, right now though, right now I really just wanna finish what I started.”

Love Dean? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[litnerdwrites]

IDGAF that Elain's Feminine

"You hate on Elain because she's traditionally feminine,"

No bitch, I hate Elain because she's a self serving, ungrateful hypocrite, as I've explained in many previous posts. I hate her for how she abandoned Nesta, pushes her boundaries and never once returned the love Nesta gave her. Nesta coddling her the way she did was wrong, admittedly, but could've been solved with a basic conversation about boundaries. Many characters could benefit from one, and a lot of problems would solve themselves if they just respected boundaries.

Perhaps there are a few who don't like feminine characters, but there are just as many, if not more, who are simply indifferent since we know little about her or her opinions/thoughts. Others don't like her for the reasons I mentioned above. So saying she's hated for being feminine is a bit extreme.

Especially since my favourite characters in many forms of media are the traditionally feminine ones. Evangeline Fox is my favourite FMC, and don't really think I'll be able to move on from her when I finish A curse for true love. She's my fictional role model, from her aesthetic to her bravery to her determination.

I also adore Tohru Honda from Fruits basket, Anne Halford from Sugar Apple Fairytale, Adora, Bow, and Glimmer from She-Ra, and the Sailor Scouts (Sailor Moon).

I grew up on the muted, pastel hues of Care Bares G1, My Little pony (G1) with a hint of action from Transformers and Avengers. So as much as I love a kick ass heroine, riding off into battle or saving the world, I love the ones who want to spend all day dressing up in pretty gowns. baking and petting cute animals just as much, if not more.

So, no. I don't hate Elaine for 'being too feminine'. I would've actually loved Elain, if not for the way she treated Nesta. If nothing else, I there's a chance Elain is only doing it to avoid being nest on the IC's chopping block, in which case, I'll understand why, view her as a victim, while insisting she needs to make some serious apologies, and advocate for her to receive some serious apologies too. But until we find out what's going through her head, we can only have the version of her we see through the eyes and experiences of other characters.

(P.S if you have any recs for books/shows with feminine fmcs or that might generally fit my vibe, feel free to let me know)

[morri-draws]

Gwaine x Reader - 'The Threads That Bind Us' - Chapter 15

Story Summary:

You, a humble dressmaker from Camelot’s lower town, are commissioned to make a new gown for Queen Guinevere. Impressed by your skills, she offers you the position of Royal Clothier. During your time in the castle, you catch the eye of one of the knights of King Arthur’s inner circle, Sir Gwaine. What starts as a sweet courtship is turned upside down when misfortune strikes and you must deal with the aftermath, as well as an unwelcome visit from Gwaine’s unpleasant sister.

Rating: Mature

Tags: Female Reader/Gwaine, set between seasons 4 and 5, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

Words: 3,084

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 13 | Chapter 14

Read on Ao3

[this chapter is explicit]

You awaken the next morning with a pounding headache, tossing and turning for an hour or two before finally accepting the fact that you’re not going to fall back to sleep.

You haul yourself out of bed, head spinning and stomach gurgling unpleasantly. Pulling on your robe, you step out of the bedroom, the sunlight pouring through the main chamber’s windows offensive to your squinting eyes.

Thinking back on the events of last night, you recall Gwaine kissing you, the memory sending a pleasant jolt through your body. Having no appetite for breakfast just now, you decide to see how Gwaine is fairing. Returning to your bedroom, you splash your face with water from the basin, get dressed and run the brush through your hair, which is still holding some curl from last night, so you leave it uncovered.

You knock upon arrival at Gwaine’s chamber door, hearing a shuffling from within before he answers, wearing just a loose shirt and trousers, his feet bare and hair slightly dishevelled.

“I didn’t think I’d see you so soon,” He steps aside so you may enter.

“I feel terrible. My head…” You sigh as you step inside, pressing your fingers against your temples. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright, just tired really. These days it takes a lot for me to get a hangover,” He grins.

You shuffle to the table and take a seat, Gwaine following your lead and sitting opposite you.

“Have you had anything to eat?” He asks.

You shake your head. “I don’t have much of an appetite,”

“It may not feel like it now, but eating can actually help you feel better. I’ll fetch us something from the kitchens,”

“You don’t have to do that,” You protest.

“Well, I don’t really feel like cooking, do you?”

You shake your head with a smile.

“And besides,” Gwaine continues. “I’m getting hungry. See you soon,”

You stay seated at the table for the first few minutes, but soon grow uncomfortable on the hard chair, so you cross the room to Gwaine’s bed. Your body aches, presumably from the dancing last night, so you lie down, just until Gwaine returns.

You wake up, confused at first as to where you are, until you turn your head to see Gwaine looking at you from the table. You quickly sit up, embarrassed.

“Sorry, I was just trying to get comfortable until you got back. I didn’t plan on falling asleep,” You notice the empty plate in front of him, and the full plate across the table. “How long ago did you return?”

“About half an hour ago,”

You groan as you stand up and head for the table, sitting across from Gwaine and pulling your plate towards you.

“Why didn’t you wake me? Surely the food’s gone cold,” You poke at the rashers of bacon before taking a bite of buttered toast.

“You clearly needed the rest, and besides,” Gwaine smirks. “I liked the way you looked in my bed,”

You cease chewing and look at him, feeling the hot flush coming over your cheeks. He stares back, expression blank apart from a twinkle in his eyes, before breaking into a grin. You shake your head with a smile, taking a bite from a crispy slice of apple.

“Cheeky,” You mutter.

“Only because I like to make you blush,”

“It’s not fair to tease me today, I’m an invalid,” You take another bite of toast.

“Very well, I’ll save it for tomorrow,”

You look up. “What’s tomorrow?”

“I want to take you on another picnic, to the other spot I showed you last time,”

“By the stream?”

“That’s the one. What do you think?”

“Sounds perfect,”

~

After breakfast the next morning, you visit the market to restock on groceries. Once returning to your chambers and putting your shopping away, it isn’t long before Gwaine arrives. You go with him to the stables, where there are three horses ready and waiting, just like last time. He helps you to mount, mounts his own horse and you’re on your way.

Once out of the city walls, you ride along a path that skirts the woods. Since it’s the same path you took on your last outing with Gwaine, you should feel at ease, but you can’t shake the tense weight that has formed in your chest, finding yourself gripping the reins extra tight, your knuckles white. Any rustle or crack from the direction of the woods has you frantically scanning the tree line, searching for any figures, any danger. Your mouth dries up, jaw clenches, and you urge yourself to calm down, to enjoy the day, but your heart thrums in your chest.

A dark shape darts through the trees and you let out a frightened shout, startling your horse, who rears its head and frets. It’s happening again. Your stomach twists as you wait for rough hands to grab you, and you squeeze your eyelids shut, breathing rapidly.

“What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

You hear Gwaine’s concerned voice and open your eyes. He’s turned his horse to face you, his brow furrowed as he looks you over. Your heart thumps so hard, you’re surprised he can’t hear it, and you feel as if you can’t get enough air in your lungs.

“I can’t,” You pant. “I can’t do this,”

You feel too high up, too exposed. You fumble in the saddle, swinging a leg over to dismount clumsily. Gwaine dismounts from his horse, his movement much more practiced, and rushes toward you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong? Talk to me,”

You glance to the tree line, but stay silent.

“(Y/N),” Gwaine cups your cheek and presses his forehead against yours. “Please tell me what’s wrong,”

You try to steady your breathing, but your voice remains shaky. “Some… someone could be hiding in the trees. I thought I saw… I don’t know… I don’t know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Gwaine,”

Your voice cracks and Gwaine envelops you in his arms, your face buried in the crook of his shoulder as he strokes your back gently.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t think,”

You hold him tight, just letting your tears soak into his shirt for a few moments, before he pulls back, holding your face in his hands as he looks you in the eye.

“I promise you, there are no bandits in these woods. They wouldn’t dare come this close to Camelot. In all my patrols, I’ve never seen any bandits hiding out around here. The only things moving about in there are animals. Birds, squirrels… no one is going to hurt you,”

He embraces you again, a hand stroking your hair gently.

“I’m sorry, Gwaine,” You whisper.

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for,”

He holds you until your breathing slows and your grip on him loosens, when he pulls back and takes your hands in his.

“Do you want to turn back?” He asks.

You shake your head. “I want to keep going,”

“I don’t want you to just say what you think I want to hear. I don’t mind if we turn around. I won’t be disappointed of anything like that. So, what do you want to do?”

“I don’t want this to spoil our day out. I want to ride on, just…” Your eyes dart to the tree line.

“Would it help if you rode with me?”

“I… I think perhaps it would,”

“Alright,” He takes your horses reins, tying them to his, as he did with the pack horse. He leads you to his horse and gives you a leg-up. Once you’re settled in the saddle, he climbs on in front of you. Slipping your arms around his waist, you rest your cheek against his back and he urges the horse forward.

Riding with Gwaine makes you feel much less vulnerable, proving a comfort to have him so close. While your gaze still wanders to the edge of the woods, his words repeat in your mind: They wouldn’t dare come this close to Camelot.

After a while of gentle riding, you arrive at the clearing by the stream, the area even more beautiful than the last time you saw it due to the changing colours of the leaves. Gwaine brings the horse to a halt and dismounts, offering his hand to aid you in doing the same. You help him to remove the saddlebags from the pack horse and lay out the blankets, Gwaine setting out the plates and food. You notice some of the same items as last time, along with some new additions, such as fruit and custard buns, and the same pies you brought to the indoor picnic in Gwaine’s chambers.

“This looks lovely,” You say as you sit on the corner of one of the blankets, legs tucked under you.

He sits down beside you. “You may have noticed that it isn’t all from the palace kitchens this time,”

“I did notice,” You reach for one of the fruit and custard buns. “From our first meal together,” You hold up the bun with a smile.

“Yes, I think that fact has made me even more fond of them now,”

You think back to your first picnic, and how you quashed the urge to kiss him then. Swallowing your last mouthful of the bun, you lean toward Gwaine, pressing your lips gently onto his.

“You know,” You say as you pull away. “I wanted to do that the first time you brought me out,”

“Really?” Gwaine quirks a brow in astonishment.

“Yes, really,” You chuckle, loading up your plate with a bit of everything.

Once you’ve both had your fill, you put your plate aside and lie back on the blanket, looking through the forest’s canopy to the cloudy sky above. Gwaine shortly joins you, arms folded behind his head.

“It’s so peaceful here,” You remark, taking note of the gentle breeze through the leaves, some of which fall from their branches and slowly flutter to the forest floor.

You shuffle closer to Gwaine, your body pressed against his side, and rest your head on his chest, wrapping an arm around him.

You sigh. “This is much better without your armour on,”

He slips an arm behind your shoulders and kisses the top of your head. You feel complete bliss, as if you’ve never been so comfortable in your life and could stay like this forever. Gwaine lightly traces circles with his finger on the bare skin of your shoulder, just above the neckline of your blouse, your skin sensitive to his touch. The only skin-on-skin contact you’ve had with him, apart from recent kisses, has been your hands in one another’s. His gentle touches now have you wanting more.

You shuffle up, propping yourself on one elbow, your face now level with Gwaine’s, and kiss him, tenderly but passionately. You pull back and look him over, giving him a sly smile, before kissing him again, on his neck, swiftly sweeping your tongue over the skin, as you slip a hand underneath the neckline of his shirt, against the skin of his bare chest. He nudges you onto your back, taking one of your hands and bringing it to his mouth, kissing the skin of your inner wrist. You watch intently as he plants delicate kisses up your arm, making you wish your sleeves weren’t a barrier between your skin and his lips, until at last he reaches your shoulder, past the neckline of your blouse, and kisses the bare skin along your collarbone. He moves up your neck, every kiss like a pleasurable little spark.

He kisses the curve of your jaw, just under your ear, and you turn your head as he pulls back, lips parted. He lowers again, his lips meeting yours, softly at first, but then deepening the kiss, flicking his tongue over your bottom lip. You reach out, combing your fingers through his hair, as he strokes his fingers down to the hollow of your neck, gliding down until reaching your bodice lacing. He breaks the kiss, pulling back, searching your face for permission. You reach for your bodice, untying the knot and unlacing the first few eyelets. Gwaine takes over, hooking a finger under each crossed lace and pulling it through until reaching the bottom. As he removes the last section of lacing, your bodice falls open, revealing the shape of your breasts under your blouse. Gwaine casts the lacing aside and puts a hand around your waist, feeling the curve of it through the fabric, before moving up and cupping your breasts. You reach for the top of your blouse and untie the drawstring, the neckline loosening around your shoulders and chest. Gwaine hooks his fingers around the edge of the fabric and pulls it down, exposing your breasts. He stops to admire them, his eyes dark with arousal, before taking one in his mouth, flicking his tongue over the sensitive nipple while gently squeezing with his hands. He moves to the other and does the same, before shifting his position and sliding a hand under your skirt and up your leg, his body pressed against your other thigh, where you can feel his hardness against you. A warmth pools between your folds, his evident desire for you fanning the flames of your own.

His fingers brush against the soft skin of your inner thigh, creeping their way up until brushing along the crease where your leg meets your body. He pulls his head back to look at you, his pupils large with desire.

“With your permission, my lady?” His mouth is set in a devilish smile, though he has become completely still, awaiting your response.

You nod. He moves his fingers over your core, feeling the shape of you, then slips a finger between your folds, your slickness immediately evident. He looks up, brows raised.

“Don’t act so surprised,” You laugh. “When you’ve taken your time threatening to make love to me,”

He grins and moves up to kiss you, his hand staying between your legs as he starts to rub small circles over your sensitive bud. He sucks on your bottom lip and slightly pulls back, allowing your sigh of pleasure to escape, before kissing you again, nipping your lip with his teeth. He gives a mischievous smile as he moves back, hitching your skirt up over your knees and lowering his head down between your legs, his hot tongue flicking across your clit. You prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him.

“You don’t have to do that,”

He looks up. “Do you not want me to?”

“No, I mean, I like it, just… what about you? Don’t you want anything?”

He chuckles. “This here is exactly what I want,”

You feel your face become hot.

“There are those rosy cheeks I love so much,” He grins, before ducking his head down and continuing, tongue flicking and swirling.

In your building pleasure, you tip your head back, losing yourself in the sky. He teases around your entrance with a finger before slipping it inside you, your breath hitching as he slowly pumps in and out, stroking the place inside which teases the bliss to come.

He works for a time with one finger, while his tongue continues pleasuring you, before adding a second finger, gradually getting faster, his tongue working to keep up. Pleasure builds in your core, and you can feel yourself nearing your crescendo. Propping yourself up again, you watch Gwaine as he works, his dark hair curtaining his face.

He hooks his arms around your thighs, grasping them firmly. Reaching down, you run your hands through his hair, tilting your hips upwards, desperate for release as the sight of him pleasuring you magnifies your sensations. Sensing the crescendo approaching, you hold your breath and brace your body, fist clenched around his dark locks, your core tightening around his fingers until you reach your climax, your entire body releasing, panting moans bursting from you as your core pulses.

Gwaine shifts up and kisses you, the taste of you still on his lips, his fingers still inside you as your pleasure pools around them. Wrapping your arms around him, you hold him close as you ride out the remainder of your pleasure, chest heaving, until at last it calms, your breathing slowing, though your heart still hammers within your chest.

Gwaine gently removes his fingers and rolls over to lie next to you. You nuzzle into his shoulder, resting a palm on his chest.

“Any good?” He asks.

You look up to see him smirking at you.

“What if I said no?”

“I’d say that judging by those sounds you were making, you’d be lying,”

“Then don’t ask silly questions,” You grin.

Slowly tracing down his body with your fingertips, you reach under the hem of his shirt, rubbing your palm along his bare skin, slipping your hand under the waistband of his trousers.

“Your turn now?”

He sighs. “I’m afraid not,” He takes your hand in his, planting a kiss on your fingers as he turns on his side to face you. “I need to head back for training,”

“Training? Should you really be doing that yet?”

“Gaius gave me the all-clear, so long as I slowly work up to things,”

“Might you… skip it, just this once?”

He grins. “I would love to, but I figure, if I don’t show up to training, Arthur will punish me, and he’ll have me polishing boots or scrubbing floors in my free time. But if I just go to training, like the well-behaved knight that I am,” He gives you a sly look. “Then I’ll have the rest of my time free to do whatever I please,”

“That is sound reasoning,” You reply. “So, what about after training?”

Gwaine chuckles, but shakes his head. “I said I’d have dinner with Merlin. I wanted to thank him for all his help these last few weeks. He’s been a good friend,”

Your disappointed must be evident on your face, as Gwaine strokes your cheek with the back of his finger.

“But perhaps I could put it off?”

“No, I don’t want you to put me before your friends,” You reply. “And I’m sure Merlin has been looking forward to spending time with you,”

He smiles and kisses your forehead.

“Since you’re having dinner with Merlin tonight, perhaps you would like to have dinner with me tomorrow? Just me and you, in my chambers?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,”

[liminalpebble]

Stray: Part 10 and Epilogue

Masterlist link

Stray: Part 10

Loki and Frigga sat across from each other in her private parlor. The younger prince was tapping his foot and fiddling with his hair nervously as he asked, “Are you sure she'll be okay? This must all be so overwhelming for her.”

Frigga smiled placidly and reached out her hand to hold her son's, stilling his restless movements. “She'll be more than fine. They'll take very good care of her. You have my word.”

Frigga let the silence settle for a moment before she said. “I'm glad to meet her. Surprised, but glad nonetheless. I can see why you are so taken with her. She has a good heart...a grateful heart.”

Loki sighed, trying to hide the depth of his feelings in front of the one person whom he could never fool. “You've met many of the men and women I'd grown fond of over the years. Is this so different for you?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant as he eased back into his chair, crossing his long legs, and stroking a finger pensively over his lips.

Frigga nodded, “For you, yes. It's very different. Or rather, you are very different. It's never been anything...real...before, has it? I've never really seen you in love before.”

“What makes you think I'm in love?”

“Love...real love...makes us all spill open a little, and I can see it. She has melted some of that ice around your heart. I didn't think it possible.”

“So you've been watching me, Mother?” he said with a smirk, which Frigga mirrored.

“Perhaps, a bit. I thought it best to let things unfold naturally. But I think the time has come to involved myself. Come with me.”

He followed her to a corner of her study, to a golden chest, where she reached in to lift out a glowing golden apple. “Do you love her, my son? Do you want a lifetime with her? Our lifetime...surpassing her own.”

He took a deep fortifying breath. “I do. So much...so much that it feels like a sort of insanity, a madness. Now that I've known her care and companionship, I can't imagine the remainder of my life without her.”

Frigga grinned and her eyes welled slightly, “Then offer her this. Help her become one of us. Help her learn and explore everything your curious minds crave. Have your adventures with your beloved for eons to come.”

Loki smiled, but just as quickly, it faded and he looked down, eyebrows furrowed with worry. “But Mother, what if she says 'no'? What if she refuses me...now or centuries from now? What if I don't deserve her? What if...”

Frigga put a finger to his mouth to silence him, “Loki, that is how love works. You risk, and you trust and you doubt and you fear, for the sake of another person. It's not a tournament to be won. It's a leap of faith.”

Without any further words, but with tears in both of their eyes, they embraced each other tightly as the prince whispered to his mother, “thank you.”

------

Loki found his human in lavish chambers, adorned in a fine Asgardian gown, and charming half a dozen ladies in waiting with your disarming demeanor. You were twirling around in the voluminous dress with a big smile, like a little girl. You were startled and blushed a little when you realized he was standing there.

“Whew! You scared me! I didn't hear you coming.”

He chuckled, offering his widest, most charming smile. His heart was bursting out of his chest at the mere sight you. “Apologies, darling. No one ever does. You look absolutely ravishing, my lovely princess,” he declared as he spun you around in his arms. He set you down lightly then held both of your hands in his.

You gave him a worried look. “What...what's wrong. Have you been crying?” you asked gently, holding your warm palm to his cheek.

“Yes. Yes I have, but they are tears of the greatest joy. I have to ask you something very important.”

He gestured the ladies away, leaving the two of you alone. You nodded, and felt the breath stop in your throat. The world came to a stand still as you wondered what he was about to say. Loki's hand gleamed green then a radiant flawless golden apple appeared in his hands. “I want to offer you a bite of this apple. If you eat of it, you will have a life as long as mine, become a goddess by my side for ages as we traverse the universe. I can't imagine a life without you...without your love and kindness and cleverness and care and your laugh and the look of joy and gratitude in your eyes when you I've pleased you. I love you...so much. Will you do me the honor of spending eternity with me?”

Giddy excitement shot up like a rocket within you, making your cheeks piping hot and bringing tears to your eyes as you met his intense ones of aquamarine. “I...I don't deserve this.” was the first thought that escaped your lips.

“Darling...you deserve all of this and more,” Loki said, pulling you close to kiss you warmly and softly, holding your face in his careful elegant hands. “Please, be my princess.”

“Yes...yes....yes! I love you, too. Yes,” was all you could say, breathing out the words over and over again as you nodded vehemently. Loki interrupted this stream of affirmation by meeting your lips again, taking his time to taste you. It would be your last kiss with him as a mere mortal.

When you finally took a bite of that otherworldly golden apple, it was the sweetest fruit you had ever tasted; almost as sweet and divine as the destiny ahead of you, almost as sweet and divine as the god holding you.

----

Epilogue

It was a gleaming bright white December morning in Seattle. Rather than rain, ice had dominated every inch of the terrain and snow glistened off the buildings. It was so cold, you thought, but at least it was sunny for a change. As you stood on the balcony of the most luxurious hotel the city had to offer, you were grateful to have this as your final memory of your city (at least for awhile). The sun was shining on you, as bright and fresh as your new life.

In another part of town, a small apartment stood clean and empty, ready for the stories of someone else's life to fill it. A polite letter and the final month's rent were dropped quietly into the landlord's mailbox. All your beloved books, records, and anything else you wanted to hang onto was tucked away, safe and sound, in what Loki called his “pocket universe”. You considered just letting go of everything you owned, pondered the appeal of a blank slate, but Loki dissuaded you. He begged you to keep your records. He wanted to dance with you to the soundtrack of your love's origin story over and over again. He could be sentimental that way.

It felt good to tie up loose ends. You made sure a gracious letter of resignation made its way to Mr. Mullen. Although Loki insisted it was far more polite than what that worm deserved, you were determined to take the high road, and he loved you all the more for that.

The last loose end was your favorite to tie up, and you did so with a big golden ribbon. Janet found a gift and an envelope tucked under the cash register that morning; her name gracing the front in elegant calligraphy. The note was a simple one.

Janet, you are always worthy. You are so young, and I know you're afraid and uncertain, but you will grow and do great things. I know it. I've run off with my prince charming. I hope to see you again someday. All my love. P.S. The gift is something to keep you warm.

Janet read it with tears in her eyes, then she opened the package to find a soft blue scarf. She held it tightly against herself. She was a little startled when her first customer of the day asked her a question, and hurried to dry her eyes.

“Oh! Sir, I'm so sorry! How can I help you?”

She looked up to see the largest man she had ever seen smiling brightly at her as his stunning blue eyes met hers. “I'm so sorry, dear lady. I hope you're not in distress. I wonder if you might aide me in selecting a 'tie'.”

He nodded his head of long blonde hair and took her hand to kiss it.

Janet's eyes went as wide as they could go in shock, and then she giggled uncontrollably, thinking, Jeez, maybe Henry does have a brother after all.

----

Loki stepped lightly over to you as he adjusted his tie and smoothed out the crisp lines of his black suit. “Almost ready, darling?” he asked in his dulcet baritone, as he came up behind you to kiss your bejeweled neck.

“Almost. Can you help me with this zipper?” You asked, giving up your struggle with the very smartly tailored traveling dress. It was a dream of soft royal purple that hugged all of your curves well (which delighted your prince). You'd swear he helped you pick out the ones with zippers in the back just so he had an excuse to do this.

Loki came up close behind you and kissed your cheek. As he deftly slid the pull all the way up he said, “Of course, but you know I enjoy sliding you out of this oh so much more.”

You both let out a mischievous chuckle then kissed sweetly, sighing with satisfaction. He helped you into your pea coat, hat and gloves, before donning his own. Opening the hotel room door for you to exit ahead of him, he said with his biggest dimpled grin, “Ready?”.

You nodded and took his offered arm. “Yes, but where are we going?”

As your polished dress shoes clicked down the hallway side by side, Loki slid his other hand in his pocket, holding tightly to a tattered green loop of leather with his name written on it. He felt his heart warm as he said, meeting your eyes, “Wherever you'd like. The sky's the limit, my love.”

@averagetmblrusser @primrosesposts @fruityfucker @arunabrak @mischief2sarawr @ladyofthestayingpower @acidcasualties @unlucky-number-13 @goblingirlsarah @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokihiddleston @chokeanddagger @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @marcotheflychair @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @littlespaceyelf @little-wormwood @loopsisloops @joyful-enchantress @eleniblue @loz-3 @the-haven-of-fiction @sweetsigyn @muddyorbs @icytrickster17 @holdmytesseract @thenerdyoldersister @thedistractedagglomeration @sailorholly @coldnique @peaches1958 @infinitystoner @peachyjinx @mischiefmaker615 @jennyggggrrr @tripleyeeet @itsybitchylittlewitchy @mochie85 @huntress-artemiss @madi0987 @buttercupcookies-blog @annoyingsweetsstranger @anukulee @aesonmae @angelofasgard16 @salempoe @n3rdybirdee

End Note: My dear sweet readers, I can't thank you enough for all of the love and comments and sharing and feedback. And a big thank you to @mischief2sarawr for the idea request. I fell into this story because I really really needed some softness and love and fluff right now. I hope those of you who read this in need of the same thing have found that comfort too. Sending you all of my love and gratitude, Peb.

[woodelf68]

The Ravens Are Easy (Heimdall Takes More Work)

For the @sifkiweek 2024 day 2 prompt "Bribe." Sif and Loki's relationship is still new when a certain raven spies them in bed. Pre-canon, rated T, 1071 words. AO3 link

*****

A ray of morning sun fell across Sif's face and she stirred, stretching comfortably and feeling the pleasant reminders of last night's activities. She opened her eyes lazily, a soft ruffling of feathers drawing her gaze to the nearby open window and the large black bird perched there, its bright, beady eyes fixed on her.

"Loki," she said.

"Hm?"

The body at her back did not stir.

"There's a raven on your windowsill. It's looking at me."

"Mm?"

She felt him nuzzle into her, apparently unconcerned.

"Loki," she said more urgently. "What if it's one of your father's birds?"

The kisses that he'd started to trail down her shoulderblade stopped.

Loki raised his head, peering over her shoulder. "Hugin?" The raven was silent. He tried again. "Munin?"

"Kraa!," the raven croaked cheerfully.

"Is there something you want?"

"Allfather want to see you."

"When?" asked Loki. "And do you know why?"

"Breakfast?" suggested the raven, and then shrugged. "Allfather not tell me anything. I tell him. Everything I see. Sometimes." A pregnant pause followed.

"Ah," said Loki, sitting up properly, Sif grabbing at the sheet to keep it from sliding down her body. "What will you tell him when you return?"

"Loki sleeping. Woke. Delivered message."

"Anything else? Will you tell him who else was in my bed?"

"Is it important?" The raven cocked his head, an intelligent gleam in his eye.

"Not to him," said Loki, choosing his words with care.

"To you?" Munin queried.

"Yes," said Loki. "it's important to me. And it's private. Where a lady chooses to sleep should be her business and no one else's. Do you understand?"

"Munin be quiet," the raven promised. "Munin be quiet for a treat."

"He wants a bribe?" Sif exclaimed, sitting up as well, keeping the sheet pulled up against her chest.

"Pretty lady give Munin treat?" coaxed Munin winningly. He hopped from the windowsill to the headboard of the bed. "Nut? Berries? Egg?"

Loki snickered, and Sif shoved at him, without heat. "What are you laughing it? We're being blackmailed by a bird! And this is your bedroom, not mine -- do you have anything to give him?"

Grinning, Loki rolled out of bed, giving Sif a tantalising glance of long legs and the taut curve of his buttocks before he pulled on a dressing gown hanging on a post at the foot of the bed.

"All right, you beggar. A treat for your silence."

Munin flapped over to the footboard, shifting from foot to foot in anticipation. Sif tried to fight back a smile and lost; the raven was rather endearing. She watched Loki take an apple out of a basket of fruit on top of a side table and cut a slice out of it, which he fed to the happy raven. A second slice followed, then Loki divided the rest of the apple and passed half to Sif while taking a bite from his half. Sif crunched down on hers, finding this shared breakfast oddly cosy.

Loki eyed Munin as the raven finished his apple and looked like he was about to settle down for a nap. "Munin. Don't you think you'd better return to the Allfather and let him know you've delivered his message before he wonders what happened to you?"

"Work, work, work," Munin grumbled. "Never get to have a little rest. Never get to visit with friends."

"You and Hugin roost all night in the Allfather's chamber," Loki said bluntly. "Surely you are rested."

Munin gave him such a baleful look that Sif snorted with laughter. "Perhaps he had a bad night? she suggested.

"How does a raven have a bad night?" asked Loki in exasperation. "Was he worrying over tax reports? Crop yields? His brother dragging him along on some stupid adventure?"

"Maybe the Allparents kept him up." Sif gave Loki a truly mischievous smile.

"What do you mean by that," he said flatly.

"Why you don't have a whole flock of siblings I don't know," observed Munin, puzzled. "They certainly try."

"I did not need to hear that," said Loki, grimacing. "Go on, now, back to Father. Shoo!" He waved his hands at Munin and the raven launched himself into the air, heading towards the open window. "And remember our deal!" Not that Loki was worried; Munin was very good at keeping secrets when it benefited him. He turned to watch as Sif rolled out of bed and began getting dressed.

"Must you go already?" he asked.

"I should. You're expected at breakfast with your parents; I don't want to make you late."

Loki made a face, but Sif was right. He'd need to bathe if he didn't want to appear at breakfast smelling of sex. "I'll see you again, though? I mean privately, like last night."

"You want me to come to your rooms again tonight?" This thing between them was still so new she had to ask. Last night had been the first time she had slept in his bed, and she had to admit she had liked it.

"If you would so honour me," said Loki, coming to stand before her, and lifting her hands to his lips to press a kiss against her knuckles, first the right one, then the left.

"What time?" Sif felt breathless, thinking of another night like the last.

"Anytime after supper. If I don't find you, come find me." He gave her a lopsided smile. "Does that sound too overeager?"

"I like eager," Sif assured him. "You make me feel like my blood is fizzing in my veins." She pulled him into a long kiss, neither of them breaking apart until they needed air, Sif reconsidering the merit of pushing Loki back down onto the bed and untying the belt holding his robe together. But she didn't want to feel rushed, she wanted to take her time making love to him. Reluctantly she pulled back, and felt the equal reluctance with which he let her go. She cast about for something to say before she left.

"So," she said conversationally, "If I ever need to bribe a raven -- fruit, nuts, or eggs?"

Loki laughed. "Yes, if what you ask of them doesn't directly go against one of Father's orders and they like you. And if they don't like you, start with an egg and they will after that."

"Good to know." Sif filed this information away in her mind.

"Now Heimdall," said Loki. "Heimdall takes more work."

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

Episode ten - paper

Jack Dawkins x fem reader.

Jack's eyes opened slowly, the room around him was dark. He was on the ground and pain clamped at his chest.

"What's going on?" He asks into the darkness. Footsteps tapping against the damp stone floor.

"Oh weren't sure if you'd wake up, you're losing a lot of blood. My lad hasn't quite learnt how to stab and not kill just yet." The voice felt familiar to Jack.

"Bill?" He says. The man laughs. The rope around Jack's wrist tugs and begins to lift him until jack's feet barely touch the floor.

"No, no my brother is well and truly dead, that Oliver Twist really got him good. Still, little toff is in prison himself now. Sweet justice." He laughed again.

"What?" Jack was finding it hard to keep up.

"Oh, I'm just here getting a little payback. You're collateral damage as they say." He laughed again. Jack felt him come too close, the stink of his breath assaulting his nostrils.

"I never did anything to Bill or you!" Jack strains against the pain from his knife wound.

"Oh I ain't got problems with you, but you dying sure as hell will hurt the people I hate." The man laughed again, slamming his fist into Jack's stomach.

*_*_*_*

"lady y/n, what on earth do you think you are doing?" Sneed questions entering your room.

"I have to help Fagin find Jack" you say, pulling your dressing gown on over your nightdress.

"Find Jack, he only just got back, what happened to him?"

"He was kidnapped, last night. It looks like he was hurt. We have to find him." You say taking your sister's arm.

"And you were just going to let her run off? Y/n has just had heart surgery!" He asked Belle. She tilted her head in a shrug.

"Do you think we could stop her?" She shot back at him.

"At least put on some clothing. If you insist on charging around Port Victory your corset will help keep you together." Sneed sighed. You held his hand.

"thank you, thank you Rainsford."

Belle helps you into a simple white cotton dress, forgoing the hooped crinolines. The corset felt foreign after being in bed for so long. Though you had to admit it was making your chest feel a little easier. You don't bother to put up your hair, choosing instead to simply tie back the front.

When ready you make your way down to the morgue where Fagin waited for you. Aputi, Flashbang, Tim and Red are with him.

"Do we know anything yet?" You ask.

Fagin shakes his head.

"We've heard nothing. Not a dot." He admits.

"That isn't true." You spin heating your father's voice behind you.

"Father?" You take his outstretched hand.

"It appears this is all my fault." He says, leaving a folded slip of paper in the air. You snatch the paper from his hand.

"Governor Fox, you may recall Lord Branwell. You have debt with him and I have come to collect. Arthur Sikes." You read aloud.

"Sikes?" Fagin turns white, "Oh that family is like a bad smell, they always come back."

"Father what did you do?"

Edmund sighs, "Many years ago during my military days I had command of Lord Branwell's son. A fine chap really if not a little wild. Branwell always blamed me for his death"

You put your hand on his shoulder.

"It's alright father, we will deal with this. Surely he will want money and we have plenty." You say.

"No, if I know the Sikes this isn't about money."

*_*_*_*

Jack pulls against the rope holding him up. His fingertips were already beginning to turn blue.

"If killing me is the point why not just do it?" He coughs out.

"Well no need to be boring. We all like to have a little fun in our work. Plus seeing old Fagin's face when he sees your mutilated body will be fun." Arthur bit into an apple as he talked.

"So it is a little about him then?" Jack says between heavy breaths.

Arthur kicks his foot, knocking the tied rope. It uncurls and skids until Jack hits the floor, face first. Blood quickly starts dripping from his forehead. Joining the wounds that now littered his body. Stomping across the room Arthur grabbed Jack's shirt and shoved him onto his back. Crouching over him.

"You know, it isn't really you that I want, I just know having you will bring one Fox's kids here. Then he'll learn what it is to lose a son."

"Fox doesn't have a son." Jack says.

"a daughter then. I hear one of them is quite taken with you." He laughs again. "now how about we choose something to send to them? A finger? The whole hand? And ear? A foot? Hmm? What about your baby maker?" He laughs again, showing his rotten teeth and twirling a knife between his fingers.

"No, please" Jack began to beg.

"a toe then, we'll start small." Arthur pulled Jack's shoe from his foot, sliding the blade between his toes.

"No."

A door opened somewhere behind Jack and a voice called to Arthur. He grabbed Jack's face around the jaw.

"I guess this will have to wait. See you soon, Jacky boy." He shoved Jack's face before rushing away.

"What is it?" He growls at the smaller man.

"the whole town is looking for him. We're done for."

*_*_*_*

"Where has she gone?" Edmund bellowed through the hospital.

"We don't know. She was looking at the paper and then she just took off!" One of the recoats explained.

You had slipped from the hospital and we're making your way through the streets of the town. The dirt scratching against your bare feet. Your sister knew very much about the body, Jack was impressively good at surgery but you, you knew about paper. Seemingly dull to many but upon arriving in Port Victory you had familiarised yourself with each type of paper available to you. Only one was made within the town limits. A basic sheet, thicker than that shipped from England. It had little wooden flecks throughout it, picked up from the sawdust that littered the factory floor. This had to be where they were keeping Jack and you knew exactly where to go.

The cut on your chest pulled at your skin as you walked. You had to ignore it and find him. If you told anyone else your theory they would send an army to the door and that ran the risk of Jack being killed.

You hear a bell being rung and know they have discovered your absence, leaving you little time.

The factory was not a large one, and was connected to a boarding house. You knew it would be stupid to walk in through the front door. Looking around you see a window on the upper floor. You climb the wooden steps on the boarding to balcony and climb onto the railings. You slip, catching your dress underfoot. Grumbling you unclasp it and let the garment fall to the ground, leaving you in just your bloomers, corset and short chemise. Able to move more freely you climb back up and throw yourself across to the small ledge under the window. The bump catches your breath and you're sure you feel something catch below your corset. You pull yourself up and slip into the window, there is an old wooden platform that you stand on. It is filled with old boxes. You hide behind them, doing your best to move quietly. You see Jack lying in the ground and your heat breaks.

A fast sweep of the room tells you he is alone so you slowly make your way down the steps and across the floor.

"Jack?" You touch his face, then check his body. The wound on his chest looked angry.

"Jack, Jack come on you have to wake up." You whisper to him, tapping his face to rouse him. When his eyes finally open he looks up at you. Fear crossed his eyes.

"No, Y/n you shouldn't be here! You have to go. Now!"

You ignore him and u tie his hands.

"can you stand?" You ask. He nods and the two of get up.

"Wait, y/n you have blood on you." He says pressing his hand to your chest.

"Perhaps it's yours." You say, once again ignoring the sting of pain below the corset, "come on we have to go quickly." You pull his arm around your shoulders and start to direct him towards the doors.

"This was silly, you should not have come here." Jack chastised you.

"No she definitely should not have." Arthur's foot kicks into the back of your knees sending both you and Jack to the ground. He drags you backwards by your ankles. No matter how you claw at the floor you cannot stop him. Jack struggles to move as two other men grab at him.

"Here you go my Lord. Just in time for you to watch it." Arthur grabs you by the hair and yanks you back. You meet eyes with a pompously large man who laughs, pouring a glass of wine.

Episode eleven

@fandomfan-102 @darasloves @afalls14universe

[kryptid-writes]

Chapter 9 - Cat's Out

The secret is out and the tension reaches a boiling point.

(2.6k)

The beautiful symphony of music plays, unlike anything I've heard before. It’s soft but powerful, the notes harmonizing and blending together in the most exquisite way, filling me with a sense of peace. 

I find myself dressed in a beautiful flowing white gown, adorned with tiny diamonds that sparkle under the bright light shining from the crystal chandelier that hangs above us in the empty ballroom. 

The elegant ballroom is filled with exquisite architecture that’s reminiscent of a fairytale. The marbled walls are lined with twisting golden engravings creating elegant designs. The white and gray columns tower over us, unique shapes and symbols carved into the stone. But perhaps the most stunning part of it all is the dynamic renaissance painting across the ceiling. Pastel depictions of angels and the peaceful grace of Heaven clashing against the dark armies of demons and black hounds of Hell. Among all the chaos is the battle of Micheal and Lucifer, the story I study like gospel.

Lucifer wears a matching three piece suit in a pristine white color that brings out the deep red of his eyes. His hair neatly brushed back and the usual blood that splatters his body is scrubbed completely clean.

I must admit, for a man that’s never seemed to care about his appearance before, he sure cleans up nice.

With my hand intertwined in his, we sway together, the click of shoes against the old polished wood echoing around. His extravagant wings flow to the melody and hold me close as we spin in coordinated circles. Our bodies press together, that wonderful electric feeling humming between us, pulling us ever closer. I press my face against his chest, breathing in his enticing smell. 

He rests his head on the top of mine and hums along to the music, occasionally singing a quiet word of Enochian. His hand rests on the small of my back and moves up to caress the feathers of my petite wings.

I suck in a breath of air as he reaches the cusp of my injured wing, wisps of pain surging through me.

With a touch of his fingers, a white light shines through and the wound is instantly healed, the pain fading rapidly and leaving a cool sensation behind.

“What happened my beloved?” He asks, placing a tender kiss on the top of my hair.

Lucifer always seems to know more about me then he lets on, but I play along with his little game regardless.

 “Did Dean do something to you?” He tilts my head to meet his gaze. “I swear to dad, I will make him wish he was never born!” His eyes burn with passion.

“No!” I blurt out. I rest my hand on his chest, trying to calm his sudden temper.

“Are you sure? Because I was really looking forward to finally smiting that petulant bug.” His lips twist into a mischievous smile at the thought.

“Dean didn’t do anything,” My eyes fall to the chestnut wooden floor, avoiding his eye contact. “I did this to myself,” my voice tapers off to a hushed whisper.

“Why?” He asks, his voice dripping with hurt, despite knowing the answer already.

“Because I don’t want to be an angel, Lucifer! I want to be me!” Hot tears brim my eyes, threatening to spill at any second.

“Oh, Darling.” He cups my face in his hands, wrapping his large white wings around us, shielding me from the light that has suddenly become all too bright. “This is your true form. This is who you were always meant to be.” He tenderly kisses my forehead.

I shake my head, utterly conflicted by the rush of emotions. I meet his gaze with wide eyes. The tears break free, racing down my cheeks.

“You are my fathers finest creation.” He wipes my tears away with his thumbs. “I didn’t think it possible that you could be any more beautiful, yet here you are my love,” he coos, running his eyes over every inch of me, admiring me as if I were the forbidden apple in the garden of eden. He pulls me into his warm embrace, the magnetic feeling courses through me, I feel as if I'm floating on a cloud.

“Oh, Luce,” I sigh into his chest.

“We’ll be reunited very soon and you’ll see why it must be this way,” he promises, running his fingers through my delicate feathers.

I close my eyes at the feeling and find myself fading from the realm of dreams.

------------------------------------------------------------

The soft murmurs of voices down the hall pulls me out of my peaceful dream that my mind scrambles to hold on to, desperate to return. 

After a minute of resistance, I stretch my arms far above my head and yawn, feeling refreshed after a good night of sleep. Yesterday's events must have really taken a lot out of me. Looking to my left, I notice the messy nest of sheets and pillows where Dean Winchester once slept, holding me in his arms. The memory leaves a soft smile on my face.

I throw the silk sheets off of me and stand from the bed, leaving my comfortable paradise. I grab a flannel off the floor and attempt to put it on, but it gets stuck above my wings, leaving me still completely exposed. I huff and tear at the threads in the back, carelessly ripping open two uneven holes. I constrict my wings into uncomfortable angles and force them through the mangled shirt. This angel business is bound to affect my life in many unforeseen ways.

I step out of my room and tiptoe down the hallway that leads to the library. As I grow nearer, the three familiar voices become more clear. I stop and press my body against the cold tile wall, hiding just out of sight and listen intently to their conversation.

“I’m telling you man, something is seriously wrong,” Dean warns in a hushed volume.

 I can hear him nervously pacing back and forth, his hurried footsteps giving him away.

“You should’ve seen what she was doing to herself! I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“So, what? You think it’s some sort of depression or dysmorphia?” Sam asks in confusion.

“Could be. It’s quite a drastic change,” Dean pauses for a second, “I mean you remember what it felt like losing your angel mojo and becoming human, right?” 

“Yes, it was certainly distressing,” Castiel replies in his usual monotone voice.

“I’m… fine,” I say weakly, interrupting their conversation and stepping into the light. I clutch my hands together, nervously picking at the cuticles of my nails. I try to fold my wings behind my back in a pitiful attempt to hide them, but at this point they’re too large to disguise. I can’t help but feel self conscious as their undivided attention is directed towards me.

“Y/N,” Deans gasps, eyes wide and mouth agape, resembling a deer caught in headlights.

“Um, good morning,” Sam says, his face painted in surprise. His eyes scan over my form, unable to look away from my wilted wings, particularly the mutilated one wrapped in bandages.

“Look, I had to tell them,” Dean admits in shame, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m just worried about you, is all,” his voice drops to a softer, concerned tone. 

“It’s okay Dean,” I assure him, swallowing the betrayal I felt deep down. “But really, I'm fine,” I emphasize the last two words, being sure to get my point across. My eyes flick over to the other men, they look back at me with doubt.

“You should let Sammy take a look at the wound, he’s always been better at this kinda thing than me.” Dean walks to my side, putting a comforting hand on my shoulder and guiding me to sit at the table.

I sink into the chair but sulk away from his touch. As much as I've grown to care for Dean, I can’t help but feel a twinge of resentment. It saddens me that someone I thought I could trust would rat me out so quickly. But I suppose all I was doing is delaying the inevitable, they would have found out one way or another.

Dean pulls his hand back, receiving the message loud and clear.

“Right,” Sam says and stands from his seat. His eyes still locked on my wings, undoubtedly having a difficult time peeling his eyes away. Without another word, he dashes out of the library.

The room goes uncomfortably silent, the awkward tension hanging in the air. 

Dean leans back against the table, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, clearly feeling a sense of guilt. 

I shift uncomfortably in my chair, my arms crossed and mind racing.

Castiel on the other hand, stands attentively on the other side of the table, his stare in my direction unrelenting.

Sam quickly returns with a bottle of whiskey and a small white towel. He pulls a chair out, the obnoxious scrape of wood breaking the silence. He sits across from me and clears his throat.

I frill out my injured wing, stretching it so that Sam may remove the bandage and inspect the wound.

He furrows his brows and carefully unwraps the damaged area. His eyes narrow and the bloody bandage falls to the ground. “It’s… healed?” His face scrunches up in confusion. His soft brown eyes shifting from my wings, back to Dean and Castiel. 

“No, it was right there, I stitched it up myself!” Dean huffs, stepping forward. He hovers over me to get a closer look at the wing, running a finger over the area that was previously mutilated. His expression is a mix of surprise and confusion.

I close my eyes at his touch, doing my best to suppress the blissful feeling that burns in my body. “Hm,” I respond, looking at the perfectly restored wing. I shift it back and forth, the pain completely gone.

Dean throws his hands up, bewildered at my response.

“Hm? That’s all you have to say?” He shouts at me and runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

I shoot a spiteful glare at him, annoyed by his temper.

“It’s possible that her newly found angel grace may have healed the injury overnight,” Castiel chimes in. He steps closer and leans over the table intently, placing his calloused hands on the worn wood.

“It’s not my grace,” I say quietly, my gaze falling to the floor. 

“What the Hell is that supposed to mean?” Dean barks, clearly fed up with the lack of answers.

“Lucifer… he healed me last night in my dream,” I admit, mentally preparing myself for the backlash I have deliberately been avoiding.

“He’s still communicating with you through your dreams?” Sam questions, his tone soft, much more understanding than his brothers. There’s no question that he’s the more compassionate of the two.

“Great! Well that’s just fantastic!” He roars, his voice a mix of sarcasm and anger. He bounds out of the chair and hastily throws a book that was sitting upon the table, in anger. It hits the wall with a crack and falls to the floor, ripped pages fluttering to the ground, landing in a messy pile. “Were you planning on telling us this anytime soon?” His face flushes red in rage and clenches his fists into tight balls.

I shrug, not paying mind to his childish outburst. 

“So, what? You’re buddy buddy with the devil now?!” He yells, taking several steps towards me with no regard for my personal space.

“I NEVER SAID THAT!” I bolt up from my chair. It tips backwards and hits the floor with a loud bang. I look up at him, his face just inches from mine. Our eyes lock in an intense staring contest, waiting for the other to break.

“Alright!” Sam intervenes, stepping between us. “Take a walk!” He snaps at Dean, giving him a light push to the chest.

Dean furrows his brows at Sam and gives me one final resentful glare before turning on his heels and storming out of the room, grumbling angrily to himself on the way out.

I let out a breath that I didn’t realize I was holding in. I close my eyes, getting my emotions under control, something Dean seems incapable of.

Sam takes a seat and runs his hand down his face, stopping to pinch the bridge of his nose, the stress evidently getting to him.

Castiel straightens up and stands still like a statue, looking unphased as usual. The scruffy angel resigns to silence.

“Look,” Sam says, gesturing for me to take the seat next to him. “We’re just a little frustrated you’ve been hiding this stuff from us,” his voice is calm and collected. 

It takes the edge off of my anger and I relax into the back of the chair, the wood digging into my back. “I’m sorry Sam,” I sigh. “I’m just ashamed that he has this hold on me that I just can’t seem to shake. I didn’t want to concern you.”

He nods his head in understanding. “He’s the devil, a master manipulator, and he’s a natural at getting inside people's heads. Trust me, I know,” he chuckles like it’s some sort of inside joke. Sam silently shakes his head, looking as if he’s recalling some distant memories.

“But these things,” I resentfully gesture to my wings. “I’m a full blown freak!”

“You’re not a freak,” Sam states in a stern voice. “I know why you feel that way, but it’s far from the truth Y/N.” He places his large hand on mine that rests upon the table in a friendly gesture.

“Look at me Sam! These things are an abomination,” I retort, hanging my head in shame.

“Your wings are nothing to be ashamed of,” Castiel interjects, breaking his stoic silence.

I lift my head and look in his direction, suddenly reminded of his presence. He had been so quiet and still that I completely forgot he was here at all.

“They’re a sign of beauty and grace,” he assures, his pensive blue eyes meeting mine. “You are beautiful,” he says in full seriousness, his face softening just a little.

I’m seriously taken aback by his words. A compliment is the last thing I'd expect from Castiel, even Sam looks shocked. “Thank you Castiel.” I’m unable to conceal the blush that creeps upon my face.

“Hey Cas,” Sam asks, changing the direction of the conversation. “How come we’re able to see her wings but not yours?” 

“I’m not entirely sure, but it likely has something to do with the fact that Y/N is partially human. Perhaps she is unable to conceal them the same way a natural angel can.”

“Wow, my luck just keeps getting better,” I reply sarcastically.

Castiel tilts his head in confusion. It seems that to some angels, sarcasm is a foreign concept.

“That’s probably why they look like this,” I say bitterly. “Short and stubby. Even my feathers are a rugged mess.”

Castiel frowns at this and Sam gives my hand a light squeeze.

“I mean compared to Lucifer's big majestic wings, these puny things are nothing,” I sigh.

Castiel’s head shoots up, his brows furrowed and face an unreadable expression. “You can see Lucifer’s wings?” He asks, seemingly caught off guard by this.

“Um… yeah?”

He straightens his posture, suddenly looking stiff and worried. His brows furrow and eyes flit back and forth, lost in thought.

“Cas?” Sam questions suspiciously.

“I believe I have a lead.” The sound of ruffling feathers echoes off the walls as he promptly disappears. 

His reaction leaves me with more questions than answers, an uneasy feeling settling in my stomach.

Sam and I look at eachother, exchanging worried glances.

Whether he admits it or not, Castiel is hiding something.

Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist

[mistresslrigtar]

Excerpt:

Medli. 

Her strapless indigo blue velvet gown is dotted with silver gemstones that glitter like stars, as if she’s torn a piece out of the evening sky to wrap around herself. The dress accentuates her hourglass figure and showcases shapely legs that appear through a slit up to her hips, when she lands center stage. 

In person, it’s clear to see why she’s a mega star. With one simple gesture, raising a delicate finger to sparkling ruby lips dusted with glitter, she silences the audience. Hazel eyes rimmed with long black eyelashes, most women would kill for, rove over the disarray littering the stage before locking with Link’s stunned blue eyes. He steps aside when she moves to stand in front of the mic.

“Well, I want to thank you all for treating my new friends with such unabandoned enthusiasm.” Her mouth curves into a smile that’s as sweet as apple pie. Zelda feels more than a small twinge of jealousy when Medli places a hand lightly on Link’s bare upper arm, and briefly admires the winding, intricate design of the Farosh full sleeve tattoo before turning her attention back to the audience. “I guess you know by now Link and I are collaborating. Would you like to hear the duet he wrote for me?”

When the crowd roars Link takes that as his cue to replace Sidon at the keyboard. He cracks his knuckles when he sits on a piano bench the young Goron roadie had brought onstage while Medli was speaking. 

Duet? He hadn’t told Zelda it was a duet.