aikeia

[aikeia]

Honeybee.

*bodyguard!Billy, canon typical violence, blood, sexual fantasy (reader), implied female masturbation, forbidden romance, fem!reader*

18+ only. Minors, DNI.

368 words.

Soaked in sin, baptized by your kiss, and now I’m born again.

You smell his cologne and old spice as he yells, “Get down!” as he throws you behind him, both of you sliding on the marble floor. He pulls a gun out, teeth bared, shooting several men proving his prowess with firearms. Scout sniper specialist.

You grip his dark coat from behind him, the material soft, expensive. You press your thighs together at his display of violence, his bloody visage. That he was protecting you.

He pulls out his ka-bar, ramming it into the guy in front of you, spraying Billy blood as he stabs him once, twice, five times. The wet, squishy sound of the knife hitting organs.

The man drops, and Billy turns to you, wiping his knife off casually, as though he hadn’t just killed five men. His eyes raise to yours, dark, like chips of onyx. “You okay, honeybee?”

And then you wake up in a sweat that morning, the sun peeking through, still smelling old spice and vanilla, aching between your thighs at the memory of his violence, instead of being afraid.

“Ruined for me, and I haven’t even touched you, yet,” you imagine his voice taunting you, warm like honey. “All you gotta do is ask. You know I’ll take care of you.” His head tilted, a smile playing on his face.

“Honeybee?” You remember asking.

“Just know you’re sweet like honey.” He’d said into your ear, guiding you down the stairs from your father’s public office, and the implications weren’t lost on you as you shivered pleasantly from the feel of his lips against your ear.

And then you lose yourself to thoughts of him, a rough and wild thing between your thighs, and you can’t help but whine, fingers pressed to your soft bud.

And you only feel a little shame when he knocks on your bedroom door, “Mornin’, honeybee.” He husks, leaning against the doorframe, a cup of coffee in his hand. A smile played on his lips.

You swallow, and his eyes flick down briefly between your thighs. He looks back up, taking another sip of coffee, looking amused.

Your bodyguard wasn’t God, he was the devil.

x

Tagging; @terry2227 @kayhi808 @e-dubbc11 @firequeensposts @aoi-targaryen @oops89 @thejanecampaign @snowkestrel @cant-help-simping @bookloverfilmoholic @zz-kennedy @fictional-hooman @ittybxttykxttytxtty @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @littleblackcatinwonderland

[aikeia]

James Potter x fem!girlfriend!reader

Summary: When your long-term boyfriend is slipped a love potion—he loses his memory of you.

Genre: Angsty Fluff (happy ending)

Warnings: intense swearing, violence, being drugged/spiking someone's drink, mentions of blood, vomiting, crying, a suggestive joke, James kinda has light trauma

~ again—to the kind anon that had this idea—thank you! ~

Everyone knew it was you and James. It has always been you and James. Ever since the third term of your second year when he'd stolen you an absurd amount of chocolates and candies from Honeydukes because you had failed an exam and were sobbing in your dorm, you knew he had you hooked around his pinky. Luckily, you had him wrapped around yours just as well.

He was yours as you were his. 

It didn't worry you that you hadn't seen your boyfriend all day because N.E.W.T's were coming up and as much as he pretends not to study or care, you've never met someone more desperate for success.

James had even left you a little note signed "only yours" telling you he'd be in the library today, so you used this time to spent the day with the girls instead. 

However, you didn't expect to see what you did when you walked into the Great Hall that evening.

Remus, Sirius, and Peter look just as dumbfounded as you when James stands from his usual seat, his arms outstretching towards another girl.

Your smile falters and you freeze up, your stomach sinking as his hands find the girl's waist and he spins her around.

"What the fuck?" Marlene mutters from next to you, her arms crossed. 

"Who is that?" Mary asks, unhooking her arm from Lily's as she sympathetically touches your shoulder. You blink, unable to look away from whatever nightmare is happening.

James would never cheat on you—especially in public like this.

Never.

"Amerie something, she's in my Potions class," Marlene whispers but her gaze is hard.

James's grin is wide and the girl—Amerie apparently—holds him closer. She's beaming as her manicured hands finds his cheeks and your entire world shatters when she presses her lips to his. James leans into her kiss, one hand at her waist while the other runs in her dark curls. 

Marlene breaks at the same time as Sirius does and they march up to the couple. You're stunned, your eyes watering as you replay how your beloved boyfriend kissed another girl in front of everyone. Including you. 

James would never cheat on you—right?

Lily takes your hand and guides you towards where everyone had gathered. Marlene is being held back by Mary, but she's furious as she screams at James and Amerie. Sirius stands next to James, his arms crossed as he stares at his best friend.

When his gaze flickers to you all calm crumbles. "James," Sirius says, interrupting Marlene's shrieks, as he sounds unusually serious, "This is wrong. What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

James has never looked this confused in his life. "What are you talking about, Pads?" he asks innocently, his eyes scanning all his friends and their upset expressions.

They skim over you as if you were nothing to him— as if he hadn't held you close to his heart just yesterday and whispered how much he loved you into your hair. 

Amerie leans into James, her hand on his chest, and even Remus scoffs.

"You can't be serious, James?" Remus says. He stands and puts his hand on your other shoulder as Lily holds your other arm. He stands tall and looks stern, clearly unamused by whatever sick joke he thinks his best friend is playing. 

James's eyes widen but even Peter squeaks, "You have a girlfriend," as if to remind James.

"I know!!" James exclaims and turns to Amerie as he smiles like a love-sick fool. You feel like you're going to vomit all over your uniform. "Aren't I allowed to kiss my lovely girlfriend?" 

 Chaos ensues as Amerie holds James closer, her icy-blue eyes staring into yours with venom and malice as Marlene lunges for the two of them.

Marlene is pulled away by Mary and Lily and Sirius and Remus speak up with confusion as they jumble out accusations and disbelief.

You stand there, frozen, as your boyfriend looks right through you.

"She is your girlfriend, you dimwit!" Lily shouts and points to you. "Not this minger," Marlene adds with a hiss at Amerie, eyes dark. 

James finally looks at you and your breath hitches when you see the look in his eyes. There is no remorse or shame, just a blank expression as he looks you over.

"Who?" he asks as he turns to his friends with a genuine look of confusion on his face. His question brings silence to the group and you feel warm tears brim in your eyes.

Some part of you screams at you that the confusion is real. You know James and you know how he lies. But his voice rings in your ears as pain caves in your chest and you turn, breaking into an embarrassing jog as you run away. 

James would never cheat on you—right?

Lies. 

* * *

A few hours later, when Lily comes into the dorm with news that James is in the Hospital Wing, you don't want to care but you do. Just the mention of James in pain hurts you and Lily doesn't even have to convince you to come see him. 

You walk into the room and your eyes instantly widen. Dumbledore and Amerie stand in one corner. Amerie's eyes are bloodshot and she's pleading with Dumbledore—who looks absolutely furious.

Lily pulls you to the main dilemma and you see James sitting up in a bed, a bowl in his lap as he's encouraged to vomit. He's surrounded by Sirius, Remus, Peter, and Madame Pomfrey. 

Remus sees you and Lily and he walks up to you. 

"Is he okay?" you ask, your voice small and hoarse from your crying.

"Love potion," Remus doesn't waste time as he glances at Amerie in the corner, his jaw clenched, "she slipped it in his drink when we went to lunch. I lost him this afternoon after that but I thought he'd gone to find you. It's strong, well made, but Madame Pomfrey is convinced she can reverse the spell it has on him."

You let out a shaky breath, shoulders relaxing as you take in his words. A love potion? It had all been fake.

You turn to look at Amerie and anger swims through you. She'd drugged your boyfriend and taken him from you. You clench your fist.

If she wasn't with Dumbledore, you'd punch her. 

"But Y/n," Remus interrupts your violent fantasies and Lily takes your hand. Lily clearly knows the news Remus is about to break and it doesn't sound good. "The reason he didn't remember you is that the potions—well he was already in love with you so the potion messed up that chemistry and it was so strong it reversed all those emotions to Amerie. Erased any memory of you completely."

You feel like you can't breathe. 

"Madame Pomfrey doesn't think she can fully reverse his memory loss," Lily whispers and tightens her grip on your hand, "Obviously, he won't be in love with Amerie anymore but—we don't think he'll remember you either." 

You can barely hear her. Your eyes water as your eyes glaze over and you look behind Remus at James. Your James, who is puking his guts out and who doesn't have a clue who you are. He has no more memories of you. No more midnight secrets or scandalous touches. No more sweet confessions or fleeting arguments. Nothing.

And it's all her fault. 

You storm up to Amerie, ignoring the Headmaster's presence, as you see red. You grab her by the shoulder and punch her in the nose.

The sound resounds around the room as she falls back, a broken cry leaving her mouth as she holds her nose. Blood runs down her mouth and chin, her tears mixing with the crimson liquid as nurses rush to her. 

Your voice is unemotional when you snarl, "Stay away from him, you psycho cunt."

* * *

You sit in the common room, bandaging your bruised knuckles, as you let your tears fall freely. Your heart feels broken and crushed into absolutely nothing.

You don't even care about the detention Dumbledore was basically forced to assign you. "Violence, no matter how deserved, is never the answer," he had said and perhaps he had a point because breaking Amerie's nose didn't really make you feel any better.

She'd still taken your heart away from you. 

All you want is to reverse time and prevent James from leaving so early in the morning and slipping through your fingers. You hate yourself for not finding him in the library that afternoon. You should have studied with him—maybe then you could have prevented this. 

You unclench your fist and stare at James's crumbled note from a few hours earlier. 

Early morning for Quidditch then I'll be in the library studying. You can always join me, lovie, or go to Hogsmeade with the girls, I know they miss you. I can't always be selfish and have you all to myself, can I? 

I love you, my darling. 

Only yours,  

J

You choke on another sob and you resist the need to scream. 

"Hi," a familiar voice suddenly whispers from above you and you look up. Color has returned to James's cheeks and he's standing in front of you. He's so familiar and so different.

He doesn't look at you the same and you want to cry harder. He looks down at the note in your hand and holds out his hand when he sees a glimpse of his own chicken scratch. 

You hand it to him without a word, leaning back on the couch as you wipe your tears with your palms. You shut your eyes, feeling the cushions dip as James sits next to you and you can feel the tension in the air. You peek at him as he shakes the note and says, "So, this is real, hm? It's not some messed up nightmare? I- I don't even remember writing this. I remember this morning but—you aren't in the memory," his voice sounds shaky. 

"It's okay," you whisper, unable to say much more or you'll cry. 

James turns to you and shakes his head. "No. It isn't okay. I want to remember you," he whispers and takes your hand.

Your head snaps up, eyes widening at the sudden warmth of his touch. James puts the paper in your palm and closes it, squeezing your hand, "I obviously loved you a lot, and I think you loved me too—"

"Love," you whisper, looking him in the eyes, "I haven't stopped."

James makes a pained grimace and his hand loosens around yours. "I'm so sorry. I wish I could remember. I wish this never happened. I know I don't know you anymore or well, my brain doesn't know you but I still can't stand you being hurt because of this," he sighs, "Sirius told me everything. I have so many pictures of us in my room—my sheets smell like your perfume—I– I wish I could remember," he sounds so lost and your heart breaks.

You can't help yourself. You cup his cheek and lean your forehead onto his like you'd a thousand times over the last years. James doesn't pull away. Instead he leans into you, as if your touch sparked a distant muscle memory.

"It's okay. It's not your fault. I-" you pause and then say, "I can help you remember, if you want?"

James doesn't hesitate and he nods, his breath unsteady, "I do. I don't understand why but my heart, well it misses you. I want to understand why." 

Your heart flutters at his words and you smile. You pull away and smile at him. His smile is weak and you know him all too well to let that slide. "What's wrong, James?" you ask and when his eyes shift, you can tell he's feeling guilty. 

"I'm sorry you lost your boyfriend. You didn't deserve that."

You sigh, "It's not your fault, okay?" you look him in the eyes and wait until he nods solemnly. "If we're meant to be, we'll figure this out, yeah?"

"Yeah," James whispers in agreement. 

* * * Six Months Later * * *

The snow falls around you as you and your friend return from The Three Broomsticks one Sunday evening. Sirius and Remus walk much faster than you and James as Sirius rambles wildly about this new muggle band Remus helped him discover, and Peter loiters behind you all as he hurries to finish reading his Transfiguration book due Monday morning—he seems quite discouraged considering the snow keeps ruining his pages. 

You are snuggled up against James, his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he adjusts your scarf and presses a kiss to your head. You sigh, continuing your conversation about how very clearly chocolate is the superior ice cream flavor, and James just listens even though he has no clue why you're talking about ice cream in the dead of winter. 

Suddenly, your voice dies down and you tense when you see who's walking towards you. She's with three of her best friends—snotty Ravenclaws with egos larger than their brains—and you feel sick as all those horrible feelings come bubbling up again.

Amerie had been suspended for six months after what she had done to James and while you and your friends insisted she be expelled, your outburst of violence had inevitably lightened her sentence.

Dumbledore didn't want a scandal on his hands and Amerie's parents were well off—surprisingly more so than the Potters. 

James senses your tension and he looks up too, his stomach sinking. Amerie is staring at you both and her friends are whispering. You look between her and James, sensing how uncomfortable he is with her presence and anger boils inside you. 

Six months. Six months of peace and time you had to rebuild your relationship with him. Six months you spent taking him to all your favorite places, reminding him of all those secrets he had already earned, and telling him stories he should remember.

Six months to catch up on six years, all because of her. 

You feel James's gloved hand find yours and he squeezes it, pressing his lips into your hair near your ear and he murmurs, "Ignore her, my love." His voice sounds a little strained and you look at him, the warmth of his hazel eyes calming you. 

You nod and press a kiss to his lips. You can feel Amerie's eyes on you as you pass but you just walk faster. Once she and her friends are behind you, you squeeze James's hand too. "Are you okay?" you whisper. 

James had been very open with you about how much what had happened scared him and still does. There were times he remembered snippets of you from before, but mostly nothing, and that scares him. I never want to lose you again, he had said three months into the six and you knew he meant it. 

When James Potter loved, he loved hard, and it became very obvious his feelings for you had returned even stronger than they had been. 

"Yeah," he whispers, his voice small. 

You pause, turning around and taking his cheeks in your hands, encouraging him to look at you. "Baby, it's okay if it made you feel uncomfortable to see her. It's normal," you say, kissing his forehead and leaning against it. 

James holds you close and kisses the crook of your neck, which causes you to giggle. 

"I love you," he mumbles and you grin.

"I love you," you say and kiss his lips again.

James runs a hand in your hair and sighs, lifting his head and watching Amerie and her friends disappear down the road. "As much as I hate her for what she did, I am sort of grateful," he whispers. 

"Oh?" I ask, caressing his cheek lovingly. 

"Mmhm—it was an absolute pleasure falling in love with you all over again," James says sincerely and your heart flutters at his words. 

You laugh and ruffle his messy hair. "You're such a dork," you chuckle. 

James laughs now too, "It's true!" 

Suddenly, you shriek lightly when you feel cold snow glide down your neck from inside your scarf. You and James spin around at the same time, catching Sirius as he makes another snowball and barks out a laugh, "Ooops."

Sirius smirks and as if on cue, James bends over and pats down his own snowball to throw at Sirius in your defense. 

"Keep your grubby snowballs away from my girl, Pads," James shouts in between his laughter as he runs after his best friend. You hear Sirius mumble something that sounds like, "Ooh, kinky," before James shoves snow into his mouth. 

You just smile, your heart feeling completely full.

[aikeia]

𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓭𝓲𝓮

A fluffy fic inspired from this old drawing I did🍃

English is not my first language and I hate writing so don’t expect too much. It’s just a small scene where Sebastian realises he’s in love with my MC, you can imagine yours there too of course! I ain’t stopping you🫡 enjoy I guess?

Sebastian yawned softly as he kept silently reading his history of magic notes while sitting on the carpet and resting his back on the couch, Eleonora was next to him laying fully on it while reading the chapter trying really hard to not fall asleep.

“Ugh I swear I’m failing this time”

She mumbled while flipping pages. Sebastian rolled his eyes and spoke back with annoyance.

“You literally have the highest grades of all the students in our class, shut up-”

Eleonora huffed and gave him a soft nudge with her knee in response.

“Just because the competition prefers wandering in the restricted section more than studying actual subjects. You know- instead of  forbidden ones”

Sebastian groaned and rested his head on the couch seat cushion to look at her better.

“You are a pain in the ass.” He breathed out glancing back at his notes pretending to ignore her.

“The feeling is mutual”

She ruffled his brown curls gaining a soft laugh from him , the boy rested one cheek on the  cushion and gazed at her while his notes ended up spread around the intricated embodied carpet of Russel  living room. Sebastian  glanced at the book and got an idea.

“I can read it for you, if you want, so we both learn something at least”

His proposal sounded quite nice to Eleonora, she gave him the book and set herself comfortable as he cleared his throat. He started reading and he could almost feel her gaze caressing his skin, Sebastian didn’t know how he managed to say the words correctly without fumbling while having that lovely pair of blue eyes staring at him, the warmth of her presence, her sweet scent of lavender and soap pervading his nostrils…Merlin help him!

On the other side Eleonora’s eyes were looking at his freckles, she always thought they looked like a starry sky , sometimes she would find full constellations in them while stealing glances at her friend’s features. She  glanced  at his lashes, was it even legal to have them so long and soft? The way they fluttered while he was  reading, the way the sun was making them shine with a warm orange shade. She was mesmerised. That’s for sure. The words sounded like a sweet lullaby rather than an actual lecture on how their ancestors channeled magic trough the years, her eyes felt heavy and her body a little too relaxed. 

Maybe if she closed her eyes just for a second…yeah that should do it.

Sebastian was reading the last paragraph when he heard  soft snoring coming from his right side ,he turned his head a little to check on Eleonora and a warm smile formed on his lips as he realised she had fallen asleep. He closed the book putting it away before adjusting himself leaning closer to the sleeping girl. He rested his elbow on the couch cushion careful to not disturb her rest, as usual Eleonora needed her afternoon nap.

Memories of their third year flashed in his mind, rainy afternoons spent napping all together on the same couch down in the undercroft between a mess of books and unfinished candies. Anne was still…well Anne. No curse, no pain just Anne, sleeping peacefully while her tiny head would rest on Ominis shoulder as he was  nestled up almost like a cat. Eleonora’s long blonde hair would tickle his nose as he often found himself using her soft curls as a pillow. They always smelled so good it wasn’t his fault they felt so comfy.

Instinctively Sebastian brushed off some of her blonde strands that were framing her face, very carefully as if she was made of porcelain. Her long blonde curls that once were left wild and free were now tied up in that blue ribbon he gifted her almost two years ago.

“You keep wearing it all the time mh?”

He mumbled softly more to himself than to her. The soft blue satin fabric was a bit smudged near the knot after years of wearing it every day, that’s what happens with the things you love most isn’t it? They change. 

Sebastian always questioned why she would refuse to buy another one, a prettier one maybe made from the most expensive silk with embodied details but she always said that one was just perfect. She loved it.

And he loved how beautiful she looked with it. He loved the way it always made her eyes stand out matching their colour, he loved how it swayed like a swallowtail when she would rush around the hallways late for classes trying to not trip on other students. Swallows are a sign of hope and freedom, he was certain that if she had to be an animal she would be one of them. She was always there trying to see the good side of everything, which in his darker days was both infuriating and yet comforting. It was reassuring  having her slapping some sense in his thick skull sometimes, he couldn’t deny it.

He also loved that, her scolding tone, her stubbornness and resolution whenever he was acting like a complete ass. He loved the way she would ruffle his hair to annoy him, he loved how her soft hands were making him feel butterflies flying around his stomach every damn time…

Sebastian’s chocolate brown eyes were fixed on Eleonora’s delicate face as the sudden realisation hit him like a whole bombarda in his chest.

He was falling in love. No. He was in love. Utterly. Undeniably in love. 

He didn’t realise his face was few centimetres away from hers till now, his lips dangerously close to hers. Before doing something stupid and reckless he pulled away slightly and took a moment to gain his composure, his eyes wandered around the luxurious living room of her family’s manor, the paintings of the Russels were almost staring at him, judging him with their cold gaze.

Who was he trying to fool? He was nobody compared to her family, an orphan living in a cottage with his grumpy uncle, it would never be fair to her. Knowing her parents Eleonora had probably her life planned since day one, as her older sister Ofelia once told him they lived in a golden cage with all comforts but still a cage. It was all doomed from the start so- for now it was better to suppress those feelings. To pretend they never had been there.

For now having her friendship was more than he could hope for, Sebastian looked at the big wood carved clock and checked the time, it was getting pretty late, he sighed and with a soft spoken tone called for her.

“Hey…Birdie”

The world would never want them together, that’s what he was telling himself, yet when he saw those blue eyes and that warm sleepy smile greeting him Sebastian thought that the world could burn or destroy itself in that exact moment.

The world would know Lady Eleonora Russel but Birdie. Birdie was just for him and that was all he needed.

“Birdie? What am I a chicken?”

Eleonora said with a snort while sitting up and stretching a bit letting a yawn escape her lips.

“No more like a goose.”

Sebastian retorted with a cheeky grin. She had no idea of what passed by his mind all the short time she was asleep.

“Ouch- did I snore loud?”

“Terribly. I mistaken you for a troll or something at some point.”

Eleonora laughed at  the statement and crossed her arms in a proud stance. 

“Was I annoying you?”

“Terribly.” Sebastian said faking an exasperated sigh.

“Good. I can consider my mission accomplished then”

She added with a chuckle while they both got up to walk towards the kitchen for stealing a snack or two. Luckily her parents wouldn’t be back till next early morning considering their habit to attend balls and ceremonies  maintaining their high social status connections. That was a relief for the two of them but also for the servitude. The house elves were quite fond of Eleonora, a true ray of sunshine in that toxic household.

The afternoon passed by with their usual playful bantering like any other. It was better pretending nothing happened for Sebastian, it was for the best really.

Was it? Only time would tell. For now they were just fifteen, sitting on the kitchen counter munching a stolen slice of lemon tart while yapping about how they were both convinced Professor Garlick was hiding “special plants” somewhere in the greenhouse. 

It was a normal  spring afternoon during the end of the 19th century.

Flowers were blooming , birds were chirping and the air smelled like clean laundry and soap.

Winter was just a distant thought, none of them could ever imagine how everything  would irreversibly change in few months.

Moments like these would be soon turned into distant faded happy memories but for now…it was all that mattered.

[aikeia]

i come barring a request for a poly!marauders🫡📃

idk you ever do this with ur cat but when mine meows at me i respond back and pretend we’re having a full conversation, and now imagine reader this with her cat and she’s roommates with lily so she’s used to but then the boys see they’re all thrown off and slightly worried.

now i bid you good day my lady 🫡

I've had this blurb like half finished for a while, but since we were all talking about our fur babies today, I thought it'd be perfect to finish and post! thanks for this cute request - hope it's what you were looking for

poly!marauders x fem!reader who talks to her cat

Remus felt sort of bad for Lily at the way the boys all deflated when it had been her who opened the door to your shared flat instead of you. Thankfully, the red-head just laughed and invited them all in.

“Sorry to disappoint boys.” She jested as they all made themselves at home on your couch.

“Oh, we’re always happy to see you, Lily.” James said at the same time as Sirius grumbled “you should be”, earning him a pinch in the ribs by Remus.

“Hey!” Lily called down the hall. “The boys are here!”

Remus winced at a painful sounding thump and a muffled. “Okay thanks! I’m almost ready!”

The boys were very excited, if James’ knee bouncing and Sirius’ impish smirk wasn’t obvious enough. Lily had been gushing about how sweet her new roommate was and how she thought you’d get along really well with the group of friends, and she’d been right. You came to two pub nights and the boys were hooked; constantly asking Lily for updates and if you’d be at the next one.

Lily had grown so tired of playing messenger that she asked you if she could give them your phone number, to which you had agreed.

The four of you had been in a group chat for nearly a month and a half before they felt brave enough to ask you out on an official date.

“Where are you guys going tonight?” Lily asked as she sat in an armchair in the living area where the boys were waiting.

“We’re going to the pub on 42nd.” James answered readily. 

“The one with the board games and vintage video games?” Lily clarified. 

“Yup. That way there’s something for us to do if conversation lulls, and something for James to do with his hands.” Sirius explained teasingly, causing James to blush and lean into his side as if he were trying to hide inside of Sirius’ smaller frame.

“Don’t tease the lad.” Lily admonished playfully. “He’s already likely nervous enough. I don’t think you lot have to worry about tonight though; conversation never lulls with her around.”

Remus tilted his head in bemusement at Lily’s comment but never got to ask for clarification before he heard some muttering.

“Would you stop that?” He could hear you mutter quietly; barely any ire detected in your tone.

“Please don’t do this, I’m already late.” You begged before a big crash took place. “For fuck’s sa- why.” 

“You’re not allowed to get ready with me anymore.” You declared to your bedroom. Remus shared a look with Sirius and James before turning towards Lily who only shook her head and brought her finger to her lips. 

“Don’t look at me like that!” You carried on. “If you want to be here to see me off, you need to behave yourself.”

It was quiet for a few moments. “No, knocking over my jewelry stand is not behaving.”

They listened to you shuffling around before you let out a big sigh. “I love you too, but you are stressing me out. Do you want to watch shows with Lily tonight while I’m gone? Hm? Let’s go ask.”

Finally, you exited your room and made your way down the hall, entering the living area before pausing to take in the fact that the four occupants of your flat were all staring at you with varying levels of bemusement and amusement. 

And trotting happily behind you was a small cat seemingly none the wiser to the fact that it just made its mistress look like a fool in front of her dates.

You chuckled awkwardly. “How much did you hear?”

Lily snorted and pat her legs as an invitation for your feline friend, who happily agreed, hopping and curling up on the red-head’s lap. 

“Enough to know that knocking over your jewelry stand is not behaving.” Sirius teased salaciously. 

You groaned and moved to cover your face with your hands, but James was having none of that and quickly made for you.

“Don’t hide that beautiful face from us; it’d be a shame if the only one who got to appreciate your date night look was your cat.” He commented as he gently pulled your hands away from your face.

You still looked awfully embarrassed but acquiesced. “A bad cat, at that.” You spat to the ball of fur currently sitting with your roommate without any real malice. 

“Oi!” Lily defended quickly, brushing broad strokes over the cat like the villain from Austin Powers. “Don’t speak ill of Princess Bernadette the Third.”

“Princess Bernadette?” Sirius asked bewilderedly at the same time as James murmured “the Third?”

“Birdie, Lily. My cat’s name is Birdie.” You corrected, not at all amused. 

Lily raised her nose in the air. “When we stay home to watch Bridgerton without you lot, she’s Princess Bernadette the Third. Now off with you, we have Ball’s to attend, and you have gentlemen to court.” 

Remus watched with a loving smile as you flushed furiously at that, laughing when it only deepened as Sirius suddenly stood and made his way for you, bowing with a flourish and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Shall we, m’lady?”

You gave him an eye roll but Remus could tell it was mostly for show as you bore a sickeningly sweet smile and accepted James’ elbow as you made your way to the door.

“Have fun you guys!” Lily called towards the door as Remus bent down to scritch Birdie on the chin.

“You too, Princess Bernadette, Princess Lillith.” He offered with his most posh accent and a quick bow before joining his two boyfriends and their date at the door.

[aikeia]

Set In Stone

Part Two

Pairing: Darklina x Fem!Reader

Summary: As the sun sets, your new life as a statue begins and you struggle to find your place in this strange and unfamiliar world. The more you learn, the less you understand, and the feelings you’re experiencing regarding Aleksander and Alina only adds to your confusion.

Warnings [18+]: smut, dub con, fingering, nudity, somnophilia, discussions of sex, mild violence towards the reader (physical and magical choking), angst, references to emotional manipulation with magic, object insertion, human to statue transformation, consumption of magical potions, very brief mentions of pregnancy, Aleksander and Alina have been alive for centuries and they don’t know how to have normal relationships

My Masterlist • Part One

As sleep fades from your mind, you turn your head and end up face to face with Alina. Her pale hair casts a soft halo over her features, the bright strands ruffled erratically by her slumber. A heart stopping smile spreads across her lips when her eyes meet yours.

“Good evening,” she whispers.

After scouring your surroundings, the plush pillows and soft sheets, you blink at her shyly.

“How did I end up in your bed?”

She brushes a strand of hair from your face, her fingertips grazing over your cheek to trace along your jawline.

“You were fast asleep when you turned human again. I couldn’t bear the thought of waking you. Aleksander carried you to bed.”

“Oh. Thank you.” She beams at you, her hand snaking its way down your body before it settles on your bare mound. Heat spreads over your cheeks as you ask nervously, “Are you checking for stone?”

She shakes her head, her fingers slipping between your folds. Each stroke is casual and languid, as if she’s simply enjoying the feeling of your arousal building beneath her touch.

“You’ve been so good,” she coos dotingly with a rather adoring smile. “I think you deserve a reward. Don’t you agree, Sasha?”

Aleksander’s hand smoothes over your hip as he presses a kiss to your collarbone. The smile that touches his lips is softer, more tentative, yet he agrees immediately.

“I do.” His answer is low and raspy, his voice thick from sleep and it makes your stomach flip.

Alina’s thumb encircles your clit and you whimper at the sudden burst of pleasure thrumming beneath your skin. It spreads through your muscles, soaking deep into your bones until you’re shaking with the need for more.

Their voices are low as they murmur encouragements and praises that make your cheeks burn, heat diving down to where your pulse is pounding. After the last two days of being edged and toyed with, your nerves are fraught.

The pressure of Alina’s thumb remains steadfast, confident circles that make you writhe between them both. In a direct contrast, Aleksander’s fingertips are deceptively light as they dance over your bare body. They leave you aching for more and less at the same time, which has you approaching your climax at a frightening rate.

Even after you’ve come undone over her fingers, the shaking doesn’t stop and your heart continues to pound as you attempt to catch your breath. Overwhelmed, you close your eyes and press your head back into the pillow beneath you. Before you even realise it, you’re thinking of Alina wrapping her arms around you while Aleksander strokes your sides.

Emotion blooms heavily in your throat as you realise how much you want to be held by them both. The urge makes your chest ache, but the thought of asking your captors for cuddles makes you feel ridiculous. Zoya’s words immediately spring to mind. You’re too soft for them. Much to your dismay, hot tears begin to slide down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle, wiping your face with the back of your hand to quickly hide your tears and prevent any further embarrassment. Alina curls her fingers around your wrist, halting your movement, which allows your tears to fall in earnest.

“Whatever for?”

For a brief moment, you want to admit how much you want them both to care for you, and tell her about the doubts Zoya had placed in your mind. But you bite your tongue.

Zoya might not have given you the warmest welcome, but you don’t want her to get into trouble. Not to mention that you feel insane for feeling so much for them in such a small space of time. You shouldn’t feel anything for them besides anger and hatred for what they’ve done to you.

“Nothing,” you concede weakly. “It’s nothing.”

Alina tightens her grip on you.

“Don’t lie to us.”

Her voice isn’t overly stern, yet her eyes are your downfall and you relent quickly at the sight of them so fixated on your tears.

“Zoya said I’m too soft for you, and I’m scared she’s right.”

To hide from their reaction, you close your eyes. Until Aleksander says,

“Alina used to cry after sex.”

Shocked, you look up at Alina. Her head turns quickly to direct an accusatory look at her husband.

“Aleksander!” Each syllable is drawn out with mock fury and she swats at his bicep in retaliation. He ducks his head, attempting to make himself a smaller target.

“You did,” he protests with a playful smile which softens as he adds, “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

She clasps her hands in her lap, appearing shy for the first time since you met. Her gaze moves up to you from the ring on her finger - a polished piece of black onyx simmering in the candlelight.

“Aleksander was my first,” she admits.

Her eyes flicker up to look at him, a fond smile spreading over her lips when their eyes meet. It must have been centuries since they first met, yet in this moment you can see how they must have been when they first fell for each other. It warms your heart, yet there’s an ache of longing there once again.

Alina ducks her head down, capturing your lips with hers which catches you completely unawares. A small sound of surprise hums in your the throat, which soon dissolves into a quiet moan of pleasure as the ache in your chest eases. She cups your cheeks, her hands a soothing balm to the distress that had been burrowing its way into you.

She settles on top of you, pushing you firmly onto the bed, and you grind your hips upwards mindlessly in search of some friction. She breathes out a soft laugh, her smile widening which she sees your lips chasing hers.

A shocked little “oh!” escapes you when she slips a finger inside you which she mimics teasingly.

“I think you can give me another one. Can’t you, my little statue?”

Halfway through shaking your head, your body tenses with the force of nearing another climax. Each muscle in your legs quivers and you dig your heels into the plush mattress as you lose control over your body. The pleasure makes you shake even more than before, your chest heaving rapidly.

“You really are a work of art,” Alina murmurs appraisingly, her fingers dancing up your bare body. Unable to acknowledge her words, you keep your eyes closed as Aleksander tilts your head backwards, revealing your neck for him to kiss. His teeth drag over your pulse point and you moan softly.

Then Alina slips her arms around your waist, pulling you against her chest - away from Aleksander’s lips.

“Don’t damage her, Sasha.”

He grips onto your hips, tugging gently in an attempt at dislodging you from Alina’s hold as he argues,

“She’s my statue.”

“But I made her.”

An aroused little gasp slips from your lips, which draws their attention back onto you. They both grin. Alina strokes your cheek fondly.

“Do you like it when we fight over you?”

“A little,” you admit shyly.

They both laugh, appearing to settle on a compromise as they both begin to kiss you lazily. When Alina claims your mouth, her husband nibbles along your pulse point. Then they trade places. Aleksander sucks on your lower lip, while his wife digs her teeth into the sensitive spot beneath your ear.

There is barely a moment between each kiss for you to recover. It leaves you breathless.

“What kind of Grisha do you think you are?” Aleksander murmurs against your lips. That makes you withdraw slightly, though they don’t let you go far.

“I- I told you, I’m not Grisha,” you insist. “I’m not powerful like the two of you, or beautiful like the other statues.”

Alina sighs heavily but Aleksander smiles at his wife.

“Now you know how I felt about you.”

“I wasn’t this bad.”

“You were worse.”

Their discussion of you - and your non existent power - has nerves settling in your stomach and you gnaw on your lower lip in agitation. What will they do when they figure out that you’re nothing special? They won’t want you anymore. Aleksander draws you into his lap.

“Don’t worry yourself, my gem. Alina has always had a shorter temper than myself.” That makes her scoff lightly, rolling her eyes in fond exasperation at her husband. “Even after a few hundred years, she struggles with the art of patience. But I can wait. Reveal yourself whenever you are ready.”

Alina gives you a soft smile. It’s clear she agrees with Aleksander’s sentiments, but that doesn’t fully ease your anxiety. After all, you don’t understand what they want from you. Surely, if you had some sort of power it would have revealed itself already.

The covers slip from Alina’s body as she stretches, yawning rather adorably. Then you notice the scar on her left shoulder. It’s small, but gnarly, stained black from some sort of dark magic.

Hesitantly, you brush the knuckle of your index finger against the ridge of roughly healed skin. She smiles softly, before explaining in a low voice,

“A gift from the Darkling.”

The sound of Aleksander’s former title makes you glance at him quickly. A wicked smile spreads across his lips as he leans over to kiss his wife, which has your stomach flipping with surprise. You had thought neither of them would want to be reminded of when they were enemies - though it seems to be quite the opposite.

They both grin into the kiss, Alina’s teeth nipping at his lower lip during a brief interlude when they part for air. In response, Aleksander curls his fingers around her throat, squeezing the vulnerable area against his large palm.

A rather dreamy sigh escapes you, as you stare in admiration of them both looking so breathtakingly beautiful. The sound attracts their attention and they turn to look at you. Alina leans over to you, kissing you softly before she slips from her husband’s grasp.

Aleksander props himself up against the headboard, his bicep flexing as he curls his arm behind his head. The two of you watch Alina as she moves towards the wardrobe at the side of the room. The dimples at her hips crease as she shifts her weight from side to side, considering the clothing hanging in front of her.

She turns with a white lace robe draped over her arm and heads back towards the bed. She places it over your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“I’ll call for Genya to keep you company today.”

Self conscious, you fidget with the hem of the robe, drawing it closer to yourself as you lower your gaze.

“You don’t need to bother her. I’d be alright by myself.”

Aleksander reaches for you now, fingers grazing the side of your neck before they curl around the nape. He kisses you leisurely, his lips moving slowly as he steals each second of precious air from your lungs. When he finally withdraws, your chest aches as you gasp in a series of shuddering breaths.

“You aren’t a bother,” he insists. Then he kisses you again.

Hands curled into weak fists, you press them against his chest, unable to figure out if you want to push him away so that you can breathe or bring him closer to drown yourself in him. Bright sparks dance beneath your eyelids as he pulls away and your head spins as oxygen floods your system.

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Genya grins widely when she sees you standing outside Aleksander and Alina’s door.

“I take it you’ve had a good night so far?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks and you duck your head bashfully to escape her gaze as she loops her arm around yours. The two of you walk side by side through the corridors, moonbeams and flickering candles lighting your way.

Genya pauses when you reach a set of double doors. She pushes them open and immediately a rush of humidity hits your face. A shudder rolls through your body, as the lingering cold inside you flees from the heat. There’s a light sheen of sweat glossing over your skin as you enter the room, squinting in the bright moonlight that spills from the large window carved into the ceiling.

In the centre of the room, there’s a pool which seems to be the main source of heat. Steam curls over the surface of the water and you look at the people lounging around the room.

“Most of the statues spend their nights here,” Genya tells you.

“Doing what?”

“Whatever you want. Relaxing. Sleeping. Pampering one another.”

The sight of one particular group catches your attention immediately. Three women and one man. They are seated amongst a mound of velvet cushions and plush fabrics. All four of them are in varying stages of undress. The woman in the middle is wearing a sheer red robe, her bare body openly on display. Her eyes lock on yours and recognition dawns on you.

“Is that Zoya?”

Genya nods.

“Beside her are Nadia and Marie.”

The two women are fawning over Zoya, their hands wandering over her body. The man is draped between her thighs, his head ducked down as he licks leisurely at her cunt. It makes your core tighten.

“And…?”

Genya scoffs lightly in amusement when she sees where your gaze has stopped.

“The one between her legs is Nikolai.”

She takes your hand in hers, tugging you towards the side of the room.

“Here,” she says. “Let’s clean you up a little.”

The two of you find a quiet corner where you can sit undisturbed. There’s a number of smaller pools, that remind you of rock pools, where water bubbles cheerfully.

Genya finds a seat, settling down on a velvet bench that sits low to the ground. She scoops up a handful of water, splashing it over her face. Her fingers smooth across her cheeks, droplets clinging to her eyebrows and lashes. When she sees you watching her, a smile spreads across her face.

She dips her hands back into the water, shaking them lightly before she removes them and sweeps her wet hands over your face. The moisture makes your nose crinkle and Genya laughs softly.

“This water is enchanted.” You hum questioningly and Genya explains, “Being turned into stone so often takes a toll on our bodies. The water helps our muscles and joints stay healthy.”

She tilts her head, eyes tracing down your body while you consider this information.

“Should we clean off your legs?”

Looking down at your thighs, heat rushes through your body as you realise that the mess of your arousal has dried on your skin.

“I can do it, thank you.”

“Sit at the edge of the pool,” she suggests. A frown creases at your brows and she smirks with mischief in her eyes. “Zoya will be able to see you properly there.”

The temptation is too much to resist. It’s hard not to be aware of the eyes on you, as you sit down at the edge of the pool. But, after spending the beginning of the night with Aleksander and Alina, you feel a little thrill of pride as you lower your calves into the warm water, scooping up handfuls to clean your thighs.

The water is soothing against your skin, a comforting caress that clears away the evidence of your earlier climax.

At the far end of the room, a door opens and Alina steps inside. Almost everyone turns to look at her, as her eyes scour over the sea of faces until she lands on you. Unable to stop yourself, you smile and glance down at your bare toes, splashing them in the water beneath you.

She walks casually around the pool, her eyes rarely straying from you. When she reaches where you’re sitting, you tilt your head back to look up at her.

Alina sits down beside you, taking hold of your chin so that she can press a chaste kiss to your lips in greeting. A shy smile quirks at the corner of your mouth.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence, your legs hanging down in the water as you watch the other statues lounging beside the pool. Then she turns to ask you,

“Has Genya told you why I make my statues?” With a frown, you shake your head. “Aleksander and I aren’t complete together. There’s a missing piece - another person to balance us.” She glances around the room, gesturing to all the people relaxing in the heat. “Every one of my statues is someone who I hoped might have been the one.”

“What do you mean?”

“Aleksander’s mother was a prophet. She told him that our future partner will be a powerful Grisha. Someone capable of breaking my statue spell.”

Immediately, you think of the book you found in the library and attempt to remember how the spell could be broken. Before you make any progress in your recollection, you’re distracted by thoughts of how Aleksander had pressed you against the bookcase, leaving the hint of a kiss on your lips.

A flustered heat spreads over your cheeks and you look down shyly at your knees, hoping she can’t tell you’re thinking such thoughts about her husband. She traces her fingertips over your shoulder, drawing little patterns on your skin.

“The spell I placed on you is exceptionally hard to break. Do you know why?” You shake your head. She smiles. “Because you love me - and you like being my statue.”

Caught off guard, you’re painfully aware of your heart pounding in your chest, hot blood rushing to your cheeks and down your neck in response to her words. The feelings you have for her are still difficult to decipher and you’re mortified at her brazen acknowledgement of them.

She looks down at her knees, her feet swaying lightly in the water.

“All my statues love me - I created them - they can’t help it. That’s why you haven’t ever considered hurting me, even after what I’ve done to you. But the love you feel for me now… it isn’t real.”

Stunned by her words, you can only stare with parted lips. Something sharp twists in your chest. Strangely enough, it feels a lot like betrayal. The blossom of your feelings has been plucked, its petals tattered by the storm of emotion currently threatening to choke you.

She smiles sadly, reaching out to stroke your cheek. The ache inside you deepens at her touch. A tear spills down from your eye and you shake your head which causes her to drop her hand.

“No.” The word wavers on its way out. She tilts her head, frowning slightly as she tries to read your current emotions. It takes a moment for you to settle on one in particular - anger. “You don’t get to take my entire body away from me and then tell me what I can and can’t feel for you.” She leans closer, her hands reaching to comfort you and you recoil backwards. “Don't touch me.”

Alina freezes and for a brief moment you think she looks hurt. Guilt stings at your chest. Then her brows furrow together, her features darkening.

“I don’t appreciate that tone.”

Usually, you would be terrified of angering her, but in this moment you’re too upset to care. Tears blur your vision as you pull your legs from the water.

“Well, I don’t appreciate being a plaything to amuse you until someone better comes along.”

Her eyes widen, her expression dropping as you stand. Her voice is a near whisper that you barely hear as you hurry away.

“That’s not-”

The idea of your feelings towards them being artificial, something created by Alina’s magic, has you feeling foolish and eager to get away. They haven’t allowed you a moment alone since your second transformation into a statue and the heat that had initially been comforting is now strangling you.

A shiver runs over your wet skin as you walk through the corridors mindlessly by yourself, with no destination planned. Genya’s tour yesterday hadn’t been extensive and you soon find yourself in an unfamiliar area that looks like an entry hall.

As you walk towards the large oak door, your heart rate quickens in anticipation. There isn’t much hope in your thoughts when you reach for the handle, twisting it cautiously.

The door opens.

Stunned, you look back into the house, almost expecting someone to appear and stop you from leaving. But there’s no one there. From where you’re standing the house is silent, aside from the frantic beat of your heart.

For a moment, you hesitate. Your feet are bare. You’re only wearing a thin robe. But you aren’t escaping. A short walk in the gardens might help you clear your head.

The paths are winding, the route concealed by the tall bushes that line each side of the walkway. It’s almost like a maze. The thought of wandering until sunrise makes you worry. Would Aleksander and Alina look for you?

The sight of someone in the corner of your vision makes you halt in your tracks, stepping back behind a bush out of sight.

“You’re new,” she says.

Her accent isn’t the refined Old Ravkan that you’ve grown accustomed to hearing in the house. Rather naively, you stay still in the hopes of losing her attention.

“I can see you, little miss.” She laughs bluntly. “Not to mention that I can hear your heartbeat.”

Stepping forwards, you move away from your hiding spot.

“You’re a heartrender.”

She tilts her head, studying you for a long moment with her pale blue eyes before she nods.

“What’s your name?”

Genya had told you that only the statues that fall out of favour with Aleksander and Alina end up in the gardens. Even with your feelings hurt, you don’t want either of them to be upset with you. As a result, associating with someone in the gardens might not be the best idea. After some hesitation, you give her your name. She nods in acknowledgement.

“I’m Nina.”

“Why are you out here?”

She grins.

“I could ask you the same thing, little miss.” There’s a teasing spark in her eyes and you lower your gaze bashfully. When you don’t speak, continuing to wait for an answer, she sighs and explains,

“I fell in love. Aleksander didn’t approve.”

“What happened?”

She turns her head and you follow her gaze as it lands on a rather weathered statue in the centre of the neatly cropped lawn. The man is sitting on the ground, his expression fond as he looks at no one. Then it dawns on you.

“You’re one of Alina’s statues.”

She nods.

“As my punishment, Aleksander turned Matthias into stone. When one of us is a statue, the other is human.”

You can’t imagine how upsetting it must be, being separated from the person you love like this. Never able to talk to them, or hold them again. Yet so close. From what Genya has told you, Aleksander and Alina seem to care for their statues. But Alina’s admission has made you wary of your thought regarding them.

“I’d get back to the house if I were you,” Nina advises you. “Before they realise you’re missing. You don’t seem like the type to misbehave.”

Immediately, you shake your head at the thought of getting into trouble with Aleksander and Alina.

“I don’t know the way back.”

Nina raises a brow at you. For a moment, you feel like a lost little lamb. Helpless. Then she points down a pathway.

“Keep following that path until you reach the fountain. Walk through the rose garden, then you should be able to see the house from there.”

“Thank you.”

She shrugs.

“Don’t mention it.”

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Lost in thought, you wander aimlessly through the house. As you’re turning a corner, Aleksander appears out of nowhere, pinning you to the wall. His hand curls around your throat.

“You’ve upset my wife.” His words are cold and calm which sends a shiver down your spine.

“She upset me,” you protest, gasping in his hold as tears fill your eyes. “But neither of you care about that. You don’t care about me.”

“We don’t care?” he repeats slowly, as if testing the sound of the words on his tongue. Panic claws at you when you realise the skin beneath his palm is turning to stone. “You think we allow any of the others into our bed?”

Unable to stop yourself, you remark,

“What about Zoya?”

His anger sharpens, his grip tightening as he tilts his head aside to watch intently while your airway becomes restricted by marble.

“I have known Zoya for centuries. She helped me stave off the loneliness until I met my Alina.” With each word, his magic creeps over your skin, hardening your throat into marble. Dots swim over your vision, as breathing becomes even more difficult. “I don’t care which one of you started this petty rivalry but it ends now. You want to take Zoya’s place? Earn it. Is that understood?”

Only once you’ve nodded weakly does he finally release you. Without the pressure of his hand to keep you upright, you collapse. Instantly, you place a hand to your throat, rubbing the tender skin there as you heave in a flurry of shaky breaths. Teary-eyed, you stare up at him. If he regrets his actions, you don’t see it in his expression.

He strokes your cheek, ignoring how you flinch.

“I expect an apology before sunrise.”

There’s a hoarseness to your throat when you attempt to speak.

“I’m sorry,” you state shakily.

He grips your chin, tilting your head back to meet his darkened eyes.

“Not to me.”

A faint nod is all you’re capable of, but it seems to satisfy him and he strides away down the corridor.

Hot tears roll down your cheeks as you stumble back to your room. The only emotion you’re capable of feeling is utterly distraught, the shattered pieces of your heart digging into your lungs.

Once you reach the safety of your room, you close the door, slumping weakly against it as you tuck your thighs against your chest so that you can hide your face between your knees.

Then there’s a knock at the door.

It’s Genya. She smiles gently.

“Aleksander sent me. Are you alright?”

Immediately, you crumble in on yourself, bursting into tears. She wraps her arms around you, drawing you close as she steps into your room.

“I know,” she murmurs sympathetically as she strokes your hair. “He scared you - didn’t he?”

Genya guides you over towards the bed, setting the two of you down as you continue to cling onto her. She lets you sob, only stepping in occasionally when you forget to breathe. In this moment, you are so upset that you forget how self-conscious her beauty makes you, even when she wipes your runny nose until the skin is raw.

It isn’t long before you’re exhausted by your emotions.

She lowers your head onto her lap, so that she can smooth over your hair soothingly. The tears fall slower now, sliding heavily down your face. The two of you remain silent for a long time, the only sound being your tearful sniffles as you slowly begin to calm yourself.

“Genya?” She hums softly, encouraging you to continue. “How old are you?”

There’s a pause.

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?”

“We don’t really keep track of the days here,” she says lightly. “I used to count the summers, but gave up after so long. It doesn’t really matter to us.” Fresh tears bloom in your eyes, as you realise you are trapped here forever. Nothing can take you away from them, not even old age.

After a discrete sniffle, you ask,

“Were you one of the first ones?”

Her hand halts in its petting.

“What makes you think that?”

“They trust you.”

She pauses, before admitting,

“I was Aleksander’s first statue.”

At the mention of his name, you sit up to face her.

“Aleksander’s?”

She nods, stroking your cheek gently as she sweeps the tear-soaked hair from your face. You frown.

“But, doesn’t that mean you should be a statue now - at night?”

She shakes her head.

“As a wedding gift for Alina, he removed his magic from me, so that Alina could have me as hers. He did the same to Zoya.”

“Zoya?”

Saying her name, even in a whisper, makes you feel as though Aleksander and Alina are about to descend upon you for a scolding.

“Alina and I were friends almost instantly when she arrived here. Zoya has always been possessive - I think she and Alina are too alike - they bickered and fought from the moment they met. Belonging to Alina is a gift for me, but it’s a punishment for Zoya.”

Genya shuffles across the bed, until her feet are touching the ground. Then she tilts her head, studying your face.

“It’s almost time for dinner. Why don’t we freshen you up and head downstairs?”

The thought of sitting at the dinner table, in front of Aleksander and Alina and all the other statues, makes you want to hide in the wardrobe or under the bed.

“I’m not hungry.”

A light frown crinkles at her brows.

“They won’t be happy if you skip a meal,” she warns you. Something must shift in your expression, because she softens her tone as she adds, “After dinner, you could speak to Alina about what happened between you.”

“I don’t want to, Genya,” you protest pitifully, your voice wavering as you wipe at your tearstained cheeks with agitation. “They hate me.”

“They don’t.”

Staring down at your hands, you admit rather brokenly,

“I think they do.”

She places a hand over yours, cupping your cheek with her other hand to guide your eyes upwards so that they meet hers.

“Neither of them are truly angry with you - maybe displeased but not angry. Trust me. If they were, we wouldn’t be talking like this.”

“I’d be out in the garden.”

She hums quietly, not an outright agreement but you know you’re right.

“Come on, let me clean you up. How did your feet end up so dirty?”

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Aleksander’s expression is sombre as he enters the dining room. His eyes scan over each person at the table, and you avert your gaze when he gets to you. He sits down at the head of the table, the same seat as the other morning when you had eaten breakfast in his lap.

Everyone seems to be waiting for him to speak.

He adjusts the position of his cutlery, straightening the knife closest to his plate. Then he looks up directly at you.

“Alina won’t be joining us for dinner this evening.”

You feel sick to your stomach.

Unable to focus on anything but the storm of emotions swarming in your chest, you push your chair backwards, uncaring towards the scraping sound that attracts everyone’s attention.

Genya murmurs your name quietly, a comfort or a warning - you don’t know. Her hand tugs lightly on your dress, but you pull away easily, shaking your head to dismiss her sympathy. You don’t deserve it.

The weight of Aleksander’s eyes presses on you all the way to the doorway. You still feel watched, as you walk through the winding corridors towards their wing of the house.

Once you reach their door, nerves twist at your stomach but you force yourself to knock. The silence afterwards has you wringing your hands together. The sound of Alina’s voice makes your heart skip.

“Leave me be, Sasha.”

Drawing together your courage, you call out,

“Alina? Can I come in?”

There’s a pause. Then the door unlocks with a quiet click. The handle creaks lightly, before it glides open.

She’s sitting on their bed, wearing one of Aleksander’s shirts. Her arms are wrapped tightly around a velvet cushion and there’s twist in your chest when you realise it’s the same cushion she placed beneath your head when you were in your statue form.

Her eyes are lined with red, and guilt stirs in your stomach. She uncrosses her arms as you approach the bed. Some of the tension in your body eases when she pats the spot beside her rather amicably. Relief softens the frown creasing between your brows. She doesn’t seem displeased to see you.

When you sit down cautiously, she strokes her hand over your cheek.

“You look like you’ve been crying yourself sick,” she observes, her lips puckered into a sympathetic pout. Her concern makes your tears return.

“Alina,” you whisper brokenly. “I’m so sorry.”

She regards you solemnly, her expression unreadable.

“Did Aleksander tell you to come apologise?”

Her question catches you off guard.

“I-” The thought of lying to her makes your throat tighten. The memory of Aleksander’s hand squeezing there causes a phantom ache. “He did, but I really am sorry. I don’t know why I acted like that.”

“You got upset.”

“Yes. I did,” you whisper shamefully, lowering your head to avoid her gaze.

She hooks a finger beneath your chin, tilting your head backwards so that she can meet your eyes.

“I understand,” she concedes. “I’m sorry too.”

You blink at her, confused.

“Aleksander was the first person to want me,” she says quietly, her thumb circling your lower lip. “It’s been such a long time, I will admit, I forgot how much it hurt thinking I was unwanted. But I saw it in your eyes, and it… surprised me.”

She tilts her head, considering her next words.

“Most of my statues don’t care that their feelings were created by my magic.” She traces over your cheek with her fingertips, stroking along your hairline tenderly. “You’ve fallen a lot harder than the rest of them.”

Embarrassment warms your cheeks. It’s ridiculous, falling for her so quickly, especially after everything she’s done to you.

“I’m sorry.”

She smiles and your stomach flips at how painfully beautiful she looks with mirth glistening in her eyes.

“Don’t be.”

There’s a small pause.

“Genya said that belonging to you is a gift,” you state. Alina hums in confirmation. Her eyes flicker between yours as she acknowledges your unspoken question.

“Aleksander made Genya his statue to keep her safe from her parents. Even though she loves him like a brother, being tied to such a powerful man always made her somewhat uncomfortable. Becoming mine freed her.”

That makes you pause, titling your head as you think. Their displays of affection might be unconventional, but Aleksander and Alina do seem to care for their statues.

“I should have listened to what you were trying to tell me.”

She shakes her head.

“I’ve explained it so many times - to almost all the newest statues - I don’t know why I got it wrong this time.”

“How can I make it up to you?” you ask shyly. “I’ll do anything.”

She blinks hopefully at you.

“Anything?” There’s only a brief moment of hesitation, before you nod. “Take your dress off.”

Her request doesn’t surprise you, though you still feel shy as you slip the straps of your dress down your shoulders, pushing the fabric over your hips before you drop it to the floor. She smiles widely, playing with a strand of your hair before sweeping it behind your ear.

“I’ve been thinking of a place for you, in the house.”

The thought of being moved out of their bedroom so quickly makes your stomach twist. Nervously, you fidget with your fingers.

“You have?”

She nods, tilting her head to gesture towards the centre of the room.

“Do you see that table?”

Hope enters your heart.

“Yes,” you whisper.

She places her hands on your hips, steering you backwards until your lower back hits the edge of the table. Slowly, she slides her hands beneath the crook of each of your knees, lifting you up onto the furniture. The surface is cold against your bare skin and a shudder rolls through you.

“Stay here,” she commands softly, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

She moves over to the side of the room, stooping down to open a cabinet and retrieve a bottle of dark liquid. After lifting the stopper, she pours a glassful and brings it over to you. With unsteady hands, you hold onto the glass, staring down at the contents.

“Drink it all.”

Not wanting to be seen as disobedient, you take a plentiful gulp before asking your question.

“What is it?”

She waits until you’ve swallowed another mouthful. The sharp fruit flavour quickly softens as it slides down your throat and the tension leaves your shoulders as you lick over your lips.

“It should help relax your muscles.” She smirks deviously. “So, I can push you into whatever position I want.”

The sweet taste lingers heavily on your tongue.

“What position are you thinking of?”

She takes the glass from you, licking the rim at the spot where your mouth had been. Arousal burns in your core. Her eyes flicker down to your lips, drinking in the sight of you growing so flustered and she grins.

She pushes you back further, your feet swinging off the floor, and your stomach flips at the sudden sense of vulnerability. Then she keeps pushing, lowering you down onto your back so that you’re lying in the centre of the table. A shiver runs over your skin when the cool surface meets your bare body.

Alina hooks her hands beneath your legs, lifting them up onto the table. She bends them, until your knees are pressed up on either side of your head, your cunt bared to the crystal chandelier directly above you.

“Can you hold your legs like this?”

Surprised at your own flexibility, you turn your head to study each of your legs.

“Yes.”

She beams at you.

“That’s my girl.”

Every inch of you burns delightfully. Hers.

She lowers her head between your legs. Her tongue slips through your folds, licking a stripe over your open cunt. A squeal and a moan converge in your throat at the sudden sensation and your face burns with embarrassment at the sound.

Alina lifts her head, a grin tugging at her lips.

“Stay just like this.”

She moves over to the side of the room, standing on tiptoe to reach for the decorative light fixture attached to the wall. The flame flutters as she grips the base, loosening it from the attachment that keeps it fixed there.

Her fingers are curled around the base, which acts as a slim handle as she carries it over to you.

She traces a fingertip lightly over the curve of your buttocks, a contemplative expression dancing in her eyes.

“I’d like to slot this inside you.”

Utterly taken aback, your mouth drops open.

“The candle?”

She laughs.

“No, silly girl.” She tilts the candle holder, gesturing to the handle. “This end here. Do you think you can hold it for me?”

“I-” You falter.

“It would make me very happy.”

Slumping your head back, you stare up at the ceiling, eyes wandering over the sharply cut gems as they reflect the low light of the chandelier.

“You’re coercing me,” you mumble in protest.

She grins, amused and proud.

“Yes.”

Closing your eyes, you push your embarrassment aside.

“Will you go slowly?”

Her expression softens.

“Of course.” She offers you the candle holder which you take with an unsteady hand. “Wait a moment.”

She moves over to her dressing table, opening a drawer which she searches through with a small frown on her face. With Alina busy, you take a moment to study the candle holder. The material is smooth in your hand. There’s a substantial weight to the metal and your core tightens at the thought of having the handle pushed inside you.

Alina returns with a small tub of cream which she scoops up with her fingers on one hand. Then she takes the candle holder from you, and you watch as she smears the cream over the handle.

She then slips her hand between your legs, tracing a firm circle over your sensitive cunt. The cream is cold and you twitch at the change in temperature. Her fingers delve inside you, curling as they search for the spot that makes your hips buck upwards with a startled gasp.

A deep moan catches in your throat as she begins to push the handle inside you. In your hand, the metal had felt almost room temperature but it’s like ice as it meets your red-hot cunt.

“There we go. Good girl. Take it all for me.”

She slides it further into you, so that the wick of the candle is pointing upwards towards the chandelier above you.

“With some practice, you might be able to hold onto a more weighty candlestick, one with several arms.” It’s hard to concentrate on anything while she’s twisting the base inside you. “A pretty little candelabra,” she teases.

A familiar stiffness enters your body, and you inhale sharply when you realise the sun must be rising. Alina strokes your thigh soothingly with a smile.

“It’s okay. Remember, you just need to relax.”

The idea of turning into a statue doesn’t scare you as much as it did the first time, but you still aren’t comfortable as the heavy sensation fills your body. Suddenly, you realise that she intends on keeping the candle holder inside you during your transformation - that during the day she will be able to use your body as a light fixture.

“Alina?”

She stills and you wonder if this is the first time you’ve spoken her name aloud in front of her. Her dark eyes fix onto yours.

“Yes?”

“What would happen if…” Embarassment makes you pause, as you struggle to gather your words. “…if I reached my climax the moment I turn back into a statue?”

She grins widely.

“Then you will stay in that blissful state for the entire day.”

“The entire day?”

She nods.

“It is a rather intense experience. The pleasure could break you.” She tilts her head, her eyes locked onto your soaked cunt as she continues to twist the handle inside you. The urge to squirm coils inside you, but with your body transforming all you can manage is a shiver.

“If I continue like this, you will stay on edge for the entire day.” She blinks at you. “Which would you prefer?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, your throat growing hoarse and dry as the skin of your neck turns to stone.

She hums, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“You handled a day of edging rather well last time. I think we will stick to that until you’re better trained to withstand pleasure.”

Thoughts of how she might train your body to endure such pleasure has anticipation prickling up your spine. She smiles, releasing her hold on the candle holder so that she can lean over and press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Pure bliss warms your body as you wake, a pleasurable fullness in your core that tempts you into sinking back into slumber. But the sound of voices keeps you somewhat awake.

“She thinks far too much.” A familiar voice. Aleksander. A firm hand strokes down your bare back.

“Well, I know how to remedy that.”

“And what do you suggest, my darling wife?”

“We spend the entire night in bed, passing her between one another. She can’t think if she’s drunk on pleasure.”

After blinking some of the sleep from your eyes, you shift your body slightly and realise you’re lying on someone’s bare chest - Aleksander.

His dark eyes are hooded as he looks down at you, a lazy smirk pulling at his lips, and your heart pounds violently as you attempt to remove yourself from him. Involuntarily, your cunt tightens around his cock - as if protesting the mere thought of your sudden exit. He settles both his hands on your waist, holding you firmly in place.

“Easy, little gem. I’m not mad at you.”

You blink at him.

“You’re not?”

He shakes his head, breathing out a soft,

“No. I’m not.” He rolls his hips upwards, drawing a low moan from you. “Alina told me you apologised.” His hips grind against yours, the head of his cock nudging the sweet spot inside that makes your skin tingle. “Therefore, you’re forgiven.”

“Thank you,” you gasp.

He breathes out a laugh.

His cock is so big inside you. It stretches you open with each thrust, nudging at your most sensitive areas which has your toes curling with pleasure.

Alina rests her hand against your stomach, stroking the skin there as she presses the area where her husband’s cock is. Her name is slurred as it tumbles from your lips. She laughs.

“Yesterday was a long day for you, little statue. You must be tired still. Get some more sleep.”

She kisses your temple and a fuzziness fills your head as her magic creeps into your mind. A delirious moan slips from your lips as you succumb to her spell.

Despite being asleep, you can still feel everything happening to your unconscious body, while your mind wanders through a medley of fantasies featuring Aleksander and Alina - which blur with reality until you don’t know what is actually happening.

Grinding your naked body into Alina’s, her hands grasping at your most sensitive areas. She slips her fingers inside you, prying your cunt open.

Kneeling between Aleksander’s thighs with Alina by your side. The two of you trade wet, open mouthed kisses. She takes Aleksander’s cock into her mouth, pretty pink lips stretched. The next time she kisses you, the taste of her husband clings to her tongue.

The head of Aleksander’s cock gliding over your dripping cunt.

Alina’s teeth grazing your nipple.

Her tongue licking up the length of your inner thigh.

The pad of his finger, rubbing your clit.

The sticky softness of Alina’s cunt against your tongue.

Distantly, you hear Aleksander curse in an ancient language you’ve only ever read on yellowed pages. His fingers dig into the soft plush of your cheeks as he grips your face while fucking into you relentlessly.

“Alya. Where do you want me to-” He groans sharply.

“Inside, Sasha,” she insists with a breathy sigh. The sound of her slick coated fingers, playing with her cunt makes your core tense. Her back arches as she whines softly. “Finish inside her.”

With a stifled gasp, Aleksander presses his forehead against your collarbone, as he nears his climax. His teeth dig violently into the hollow of your throat, the pain causing you to tighten around him, your cunt now strangling his cock.

The two of you moan in unison, grasping tightly onto one another as you both reach the peak of your pleasure, your bodies writhing in the throes of a violent, synchronised orgasm. Aleksander’s grip on your hips is tight, squeezing you as he groans.

Alina isn’t far behind, her frantic movements and moans registering distantly through the clouds of bliss fogging up your head. It takes quite some time for you to catch your breath. Even when Aleksander eventually pulls out from inside you, there’s a disconnect between your mind and your body.

Their magic hazes over your thoughts, dulling your awareness while she plays with Aleksander’s spend as it leaks out of you. The wet sound of her fingers and your unsteady breathing fills the room. She smears the creamy mess over your thighs, before ducking her head down to lap up the streaks with her tongue.

The three of you remain in bed, lying side by side. Unable to stop yourself, you look down at your hand, watching your thumb move slowly over your abdomen.

“You won’t end up with child,” Alina says quietly.

Startled, you look over at her with widened eyes.

“I won’t?”

She shakes her head.

“My magic stops your natural cycle.”

“Oh.”

Her eyes wander slowly down your body, settling on where your hand remains on your stomach.

“Besides, Aleksander and I can’t…” Her voice trails off into nothing and sadness traces its way over her features.

“Alina, I’m so sorry.”

She attempts a casual shrug.

“It’s probably for the best.”

Placing your hand over hers, you squeeze it softly.

“I’m still sorry.”

She slips an arm around your waist, pulling you close until your hips are pressed flush against hers, your legs tangled together. Her nose brushes against yours before she kisses you softly. Aleksander’s arm curls around the two of you, drawing you both closer to him.

He leaves a kiss on your shoulder, resting his forehead in the crook of your neck as he inhales a deep sigh. Another kiss is pressed against your pulse point as he murmurs in a voice so quiet you scarcely hear it.

“Thank you.”

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

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[aikeia]

the sleepy remus drabble was everything but what about sleepy james x reader just cuddling on the couch with remus and sirius teasing them omfgg

Thanks for requesting lovely! I realized halfway through writing this that I wasn't sure if you meant rem and sirius were there platonically or not, but I hope this is alright <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 870 words

Even when you hear the voices, you pretend you don’t, too comfortable on the plush cushion of James’ hoodie. Opening your eyes isn’t worth the effort. 

“Is this what they do when we’re not home?” Sirius’ voice is low and ripe with faux outrage.

James hushes him, so he’s awake apparently. His thumb moves over your tummy, big hand tucked into the warmth between your sweatshirt and your bare skin. “You’ll wake her,” he says, voice still sticky with sleep.

“She ought to be awake, it’s five in the afternoon!” 

Remus’ voice is softer, skeptical. “I don’t see how either of you expect to sleep through the night if you nap like this during the day.”

“We manage,” James yawns. 

You hear Sirius huff. If the muscles in your face were more active you think you’d smile. “I thought we were going to Marlene’s thing tonight,” he complains. 

“Still planning on it.” James’ palm splays over your middle, warm and safe. “We’re resting up.” 

“This is how you prepare for Friday nights now? Fuck, we must be getting old.” 

You whine at his volume, nuzzling your face into James’ chest. 

“Oh, so she is awake. What, sweet thing, you don’t feel like saying hi?” 

This time James coos at your protesting sound. His hand slips from beneath your sweatshirt to wrap around your shoulders, shielding you from your pestering boyfriend. 

“Oh, let’s have a bit of sympathy,” Remus says, sounding amused, “she’s had a long, hard day of napping. She deserves a bit of rest.” 

You want to remind him it’s your day off, but speaking feels like giving into wakefulness, and that is something you are not inclined to do. Instead, you try to wriggle beneath the blanket halfway up James’ torso, curling in on yourself like a roly poly. He helps you out, pulling it up to cover your head and draping an arm over your balled-up form. 

“It’s her day off,” he says, your hero. “Why shouldn’t she get to rest?” 

“That’s fair enough,” Remus allows, “but why were you sleeping?”

James hesitates. “Well, I didn’t have anything to do after training and she…she lured me in.” 

It’s true. James after rugby training is like Remus after he spends all day reading; he’s all worn out and pliable, and you’d practically only had to open your arms for him to fall right into them and then a cuddle on the couch had turned into a two-hour nap. Terribly unfortunate. Certainly not your plan all along. 

You decide it’s your turn to protect James from the others, wriggling up on his chest and covering his head with the blanket. You see his smile through half-lidded eyes, and outside of your little cave, Remus chuckles. 

“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” 

“I think we should get in bed and have a cuddle they’re not invited to,” says Sirius. “See how they like it.” 

“I’m not sure we can leave them in good conscience.” The sound of Remus' smile makes you smile, your cheek smushing into James’ chest. “She’s just taken Jamie. If we let her go on like this, she’ll have them both sleeping ‘til tomorrow.” 

That actually sounds rather appealing. 

“They’re jealous of us,” James whispers. You hum your agreement, and he kisses the crown of your head. 

“We could go to all their favorite things,” Sirius proposes. “Make them remember the benefits of leaving the couch.” 

“Like what? Watch sports?” 

“And eat pastries. She loves a sweet.” 

“Mm, yeah. I could fancy a sweet.” 

“From the shop on sixth? They should still be open, yeah?” 

“Stay strong, angel,” James whispers. “Don’t let them break you.” 

“They ought to be. Oh, and the pub down that way will be showing the Manchester match tonight. We could stop and see that.” 

“Sick and twisted!” James throws the blanket off, uncovering you in the process. “You never watch football with me.” 

“I have,” Remus hedges, “that one time.” 

“Last year! And you were reading your book on the other side of the pillow!” 

He turns sheepish. “Didn’t realize you’d noticed that.” 

“But now you’re going to watch it just to spite me?” 

“No,” Sirius admits. “We were never going to watch football, Jamie, sorry.” James deflates, and you squeeze him tight around the middle in a show of solidarity. 

“But we can go by the bakery on our way to Marlene’s thing,” Remus says, adding when you perk up, “if we leave soon enough. They make those danishes you like on Fridays, don’t they?” 

“Seriously?” you ask, your voice croaky and hopeful. 

“That’s me, babe,” Sirius teases, “and I’m down to stop by, but only if I get what I’m owed.” At your blank look, he raises a dark brow. “My welcome home kiss?” 

Oh. “You’re gonna have to come down here,” you mumble. He makes a show of rolling his eyes, but obliges you, bending at the waist to take your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours firmly. He does the same to James once you’re done, straightening with a satisfied look on his face. 

“Appeased?” Remus asks placidly. 

“Yes,” Sirius answers, “the evening may now continue. Up, you two. We’ve got places to be.” 

[aikeia]

four (4) lockscreens of jacob and evie frye from assassin's creed syndicate.

reblog / ♡ if you like

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[aikeia]

I maintain that JtR aged Jacob still manages to be scruffy most of the time

[aikeia]

[aikeia]

Do not wrong Crows

They protect the ones they love

Tho they don't love many

[aikeia]

saw a great tweet earlier and had to redraw

https://x.com/kamsspice/status/1782135475622265270?s=46&t=ROWnmMctY73xk0hPbwGs8g

[aikeia]

It's absolutely insane how he could...

Hold big, poofy, bright pink cotton candy while wearing the silliest, goofiest smile on his face, shining more than the sun itself...

To being a scary, vicious, menacing, badass, bloody monster...

To a little ball of trauma and tragedy on the floor, desperately clutching his gloves and visibly shuddering.

I still haven't figured out how he does it. I'm still dazed.

[aikeia]

Fixated

Established relationship, teasing, fluff, implied spicy times, fem!reader.

@terry2227 @kayhi808 @e-dubbc11 @snowkestrel @aoi-targaryen @firequeensposts @oops89 @thejanecampaign @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @vaguekayla @danzer8705 @firexfate @rosaleenablack @idaofinfinity @littleblackcatinwonderland @zz-kennedy @fictional-hooman

You’ve been sitting in Billy’s penthouse living room, trying to get some work done; you were behind as it was. You might be slightly fixated on him, and have been slacking as a result.

Billy doesn’t make it easy, either. He doesn’t like being ignored. His fingers are in your hair, a seemingly innocent thing. His nails scratch your scalp, and he pulls on it a little, tilting your head back.

But he knows how pulling your hair gets you going. You try to ignore it, pulling from his hand and swatting at him, making him laugh. His fingers trail down your neck, squeezing around your throat, and god if that doesn’t do something to you.

You can almost see the devious smile behind you, as though he knows it. You still ignore him.

You squirm when his hands tease your collarbones, blunt nails into your skin, and you know tomorrow the girls at work will see his marks. It thrills you. You stop typing on your laptop.

“Billy, I’m working.”

“I was last night too, but who decided to tease me, huh, princess?” He waits and then you start typing again, while you grumble under your breath as he leans down to leave a hickey on your neck. “That’s what I thought,” he whispers into your skin, making goosebumps appear.

You whine softly, feeling his teeth sink into your skin, leaving a mark, and then the asshole pulls away, kissing the top of your head.

“Billyyy.” You say, glaring at him, “You’re a menace.”

He laughs, “Aren’t you cute? A kitten threatening a panther.”

“Why the hell did you stop?” You ask, annoyed.

He shrugs slyly, picking up a book, pretending to be interested in it, licking his finger and turning the page.

You sit there for a minute, before saying. “Ah, this is for the birds.” You slam your laptop closed and climb into his lap.

He smiles into your neck as you throw his book across the room, kissing him.

Got you.

[aikeia]

the spider - l.m.

Liam Mairi x reader When you find an uninvited guest in your room, you find yourself knocking on Liam's door to ask him for help. words: 861 🏷: no book spoilers at all, just fluff! mentions of spiders but nothing too detailed (mild arachnophobe here) and Liam handles it for you 🥰 reader is referred to as a girl once, but no pronouns used. this was originally going to be for someone else, but I realized I haven't fed the Liam lovers in a while, so here you go!

“I need you,” you blurt as soon as Liam opens his door.

He blinks, thoroughly confused. “What?”

You take a breath and try again. “There is a ginormous spider in my room and I need you to do something about it. Please.”

“And I was the first person you thought of?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. He has a point — you hardly know each other. 

“You’re my neighbor, so yeah, you were,” you answer, your cheeks warming. “Please, Liam?”

He doesn’t think you’ve called him by his first name, ever. To hear you whining it as you blink up at him, pleading… 

“Before it crawls into my bed or something,” you add urgently, shuddering at the thought. 

“Well, we can’t have that,” he says with a soft laugh. “Lead the way.”

He knows where your room is, knows you’re right across the hall, but he still trails a few paces behind as you make the incredibly short walk over.

You unlock the door and usher him inside, remaining out in the hallway.

He steps forward, taking it in; he’s caught glimpses over your shoulder, but never set foot inside.

It looks… lived in. There’s a pile of boots by the door, tonight’s homework and yesterday’s notes spread over the desk, and he could swear that’s a romance novel on your nightstand — you’re almost finished with it, judging by the location of the scrap of colorful parchment you’re using as a bookmark.

The bed is unmade, blankets pulled back as if you’d just gotten out of it. A small stuffed dragon sits on your pillow, a soft green thing that looks remarkably like Blythe.

And everything about this room smells like you, soft and sweet — he’s never figured out how you manage to do that, to smell so good when everyone in this entire school uses plain unscented soap.

His eyes finally catch on the intruder. It’s an ugly little fucker, but nothing to write home about, just a harmless garden variety.

“You know, it’s probably more afraid of you than you are of it,” he says with a glance over his shoulder.

“I highly doubt that,” you huff. “There is no reason why anything on Amari’s green earth should have that many legs. It’s damn creepy. Can you just smush it, please?”

“That’s a fair point. But it’s too big, if I smush it you’re gonna have spider juice on your wall.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Ew, okay, fine, um. There’s paper on the desk, and an empty cup.”

“See, you have the tools,” he begins, grabbing the aforementioned supplies, “you just need to take the leap and follow through with it.”

“No, thank you,” you reply from the corner of the room you’ve pressed yourself into, as far away from the thing as you can get. “I’ve faced enough of my fears this year already. This one is gonna have to wait.”

“Understandable,” he acknowledges, trapping it inside the cup and sliding the paper overtop it.

You give him plenty of space as he walks out the door, not leaving the corner until he returns a few minutes later. 

He holds up the paper silently, showing you the front and back, and flips the cup upside down, shaking it to prove that the spider is, in fact, gone.

“Where did you put it?” you ask, still paranoid.

“In the bushes, as far from your room as possible. Clear across the courtyard.”

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

He sets the paper and mug back on the desk where he found them, looking back at you. 

You pull him into a loose hug, wrapping him in that lovely scent — orange blossoms and vanilla, he decides. It’s intoxicating.

“Thank you,“ you say quietly. “For dealing with it, and for not thinking it’s dumb or making fun of me.”

He falters for a moment, but quickly brings a hand up to rest on your back. “I’d never make fun of you. And it’s no problem, really.”

You realize you’ve never so much as shaken his hand before. You pull away quickly, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, that was… forward of me,” you manage.

He laughs softly. “It’s okay. Come get me if any of its friends show up. I’ll give them a talking to.”

You can’t help but smile. “Thank you, Liam.”

There you go again, saying his name and making him feel things.

He offers you a soft smile that nearly brings you to your knees. “Goodnight, pretty girl.”

“Goodnight,” you breathe, shutting the door after he’s back in his own room.

“He thinks I’m pretty,” you whisper aloud, smiling.

“Of course he does,” Blythe says, amused.

You jump. “What have I told you about eavesdropping?” 

She sounds like she’s rolling her eyes. “And what have I told you about broadcasting your every thought to me?”

You sigh, conceding. “I’m still working on that. I’m sorry.”

“All in good time, soft one. All in good time.”

You kick off your boots, flopping down onto your bed with a sigh and picking up your book again, but you’ve lost interest. Knights in shining armor be damned; all you can think about right now is Liam.

[aikeia]

The inheritance games incorrect quotes

Grayson: This is such a bad idea. Jameson: Then why are you coming along? Grayson: One of us needs to be able to talk the cops out of arresting us when this inevitably goes wrong.

Avery: I really like this whole ‘good guy, bad guy’ thing you guys have going on. Jameson: It’s not an act, it’s just that I’m nice and Grayson isn’t

Jameson, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him  Grayson: You did WHAT–  Xander : William Snakepeare

Avery: I prevented a murder today. Alisa: Really? How’d you do that? Avery: self control.

Avery: Fuck. Libby: We've got to work on your cursing. Avery: Why? I'm pretty good at cursing already.

Avery, talking to Jameson on the phone: Did you preheat the oven like I told you to? Jameson: You bet! Avery: At what temperature? Jameson: 535. Avery: That's the clock. Jameson: Avery: Jameson: 536.

Jameson: Well, well, well... if it isn’t my old friend: the dawning realization that I fucked up bad.

Nash, about Avery: Apparently we’re getting someone new in the house. Jameson : Are we stealing them? Xander: New or used? Nash: Wonderful responses, both of you.

Jameson: Must be hard not being able to laugh Grayson: I do have a sense of humor you know Jameson: I’ve never heard you laugh before Grayson: I’ve never heard you say anything funny

Thea: I was born for politics. I have great hair and I love lying.

Avery: So what’s for dinner?  Libby, staring at the food they just burnt: Regret.

Grayson: So apparently the 'bad vibes' I’ve been feeling are actually severe psychological distress

[aikeia]

Sebastian: I have a crush... on MC.

Garreth: Same.

Sebastian: What?!

Ominis: Get with the times, Sebastian. We all have a crush on MC.

[aikeia]

Him in black is just...chefs kiss.