#I miss it every day...my beautiful emerald sweater....

[lou-struck]

They Said No... Part 2

Obey Me! x MC!

Featuring: Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor

Part 1 HERE

Part 3 HERE

~We all get asked to do things sometimes that we do not want to do. And it's okay to say no, but sometimes you need a little extra help to get the point across.

Warnings: Pushy Demons, talk of pact control, Threats, Betrayal

Satan:

The Avatar of Wrath has a bit of cat fur on his usually pristine uniform but has never been happier, RAD is hosting an animal adoption event, and he has spent most of his morning with the adoptable cats having the time of his life. The only thing he is missing is you.

You would love every minute of the event, and so Satan has made it his mission of the day to find you and bring you to the feline-filled classroom.

Stepping into the nearly empty corridor, he sees you sitting on one of the ancient stone benches, mindlessly scrolling through your DDD with one hand and toying with a button on your uniform with the other.

"Mc, there you are." a voice interjects before he can even open his mouth; you lift your head and look towards the owner of the shrill and unfamiliar voice. A Demon Satan doesn't care enough to recognize steps towards you. "I've been looking for you everywhere."

"Oh, hi." You don't meet their gaze, opting instead to stare at the ground in a way that tells Satan you would rather be anywhere else than talking to them. It irks him greatly, but he can't just interrupt yet.

"The brothers aren't here, so you can speak freely now. Did you see my messages?" they ask, taking another step towards you. "You know I've liked you for a while now, but I don't understand why you won't go out with me."

You look up at them apologetically but take a step further away from your not-so-secret admirer. "I'm so sorry, but my feelings are not the same; I've told you before that I am not interested, so can you please leave me alone.

"NO," the lesser Demons shouts, "you don't understand. I like you, which means you are Mine."

That is all Satan needs to hear, and his legs move forward on their own. His anger at this lesser Demon threatens to bubble to the surface as he approaches. Stepping between the two of you protectively.  

The Demon flinches but doesn't back down entirely. They open their pathetic little mouth to babble out some delusional retort, only to have their words die on their tongue.

"MC said they were not interested in the likes of you," he growls, his emerald eyes aglow as he stares down your harasser. "I suggest you leave before you manage to make me even angrier than you already have."

The Demon leaves satisfyingly quickly, leaving Satan with you. He notices that you look a bit shaken up but utterly relieved to be rid of that Demon. The wrath he felt earlier disappears as you throw yourself into the safety of his embrace. 

The cat can wait, but for now, he just needs to make sure you are okay.

Asmodeus:

Asmodeus is feeling particularly radiant today; the only thing that he thinks he can attribute this glow to other than the universe recognizing his beauty is that his elation to be going on this special little outing with you is showing for all the Devildom to see. 

How lucky are they?

He feels light on his feet as he walks down the cobbled streets of Majolish to the little bistro you promised to meet him at for your Devilgrammable date.

His Peach-colored gaze scans the plaza until it finds you sitting at one of the adorably small tables on the patio, your figure clad in the sweater he bought for you a few weeks ago. You just look so cute. He feels his heart flutter in a way that doesn't quite fit the Lust for which he has been known.

But you are not alone; standing over you is a demon he has seen you frequently talking to at RAD.

A friend of yours? 

Maybe?

But something feels off about the way you are looking up at them as if they are making you uncomfortable. As pretty and kind as you are, Asmo knows that you are trying very hard to keep your emotions undetectable. He has to know why.

Focusing on your conversation, he is able to hear what the other Demon is trying to talk to you about.

"Mc, y-you said we were f-friends," they whine in an exasperated voice. "Why won't y-you help me?" large tear drops run down their pearl-colored skin and onto the pavement below. 

"What you are asking me to do is wrong," you say calmly. "I would never do that to Asmo or anyone else for that matter."

"All you have to do is tell Lord Asmodeus to love me as I love him." they huff. "But you wouldn't even do that for me. I love him, and I deserve to have him for my own."

"I wouldn't be telling him you want me to order him to do it," you say. "I don't think I can be friends with you anymore."

The Demon waves your words off as if they were nothing of consequence, an action that makes Asmo narrow his eyes as he starts to approach. "I never wanted to be friends with some ugly human in the first place, I only wanted Asmodeus, and you were a means to an end. But it seems that you just want to keep all the Brothers for yourself."

"Even if Mc did want to keep us for themselves, they deserve to," Asmo interjects at last, hugging you from behind and placing his head on your shoulder. "I mean, just look at them; they are soooo cute."

The earlier cruelty that had been on the Pearl demon's face vanished in an instant as their cheeks flushed heavily. "L-lord Asmodeus," they breathe. "I didn't mean it like that; the two of us were just having a bit of a friendly disagreement, that's all."

All of the annoyance and irritation that Asmo had been feeling comes forward, and he exudes a threatening aura as he stares down the Demon, not caring enough to charm them into submission. "Yeah, no, I heard more than enough to know that you need to stay away from Mc." he sighs, lowering his voice enough to send a shiver down the other Demon's spine, and they rush away.

Now alone, Asmo turns his attention to you and smiles brightly as if nothing had happened. "Sorry I'm late, Hon; let's go and order our drinks; I think after that, we both need a little extra love."

Beelzebub:

Beel feels like he's going to die of hunger. Whenever RAD does schoolwide exams, he is not allowed to eat in the classroom. It seems like ages since he has last eaten. The test took him a lot longer than he thought it would take. But before he leaves to go to Hell's kitchen, he wants to find you and bring you along with him. He doesn't quite understand why, but food always tastes better when you are with him.

He hears your voice from down the hall, a happy smile resting on his face as he follows the sound. He says you sat at one of the long study tables in the common room, a mountain of books at your side, and one of your classmates standing over you.

"I'm sorry," you say softly. "But I told you before. But I have too much on my plate right now. You'll have to do that part of the assignment yourself. " 

Your classmate sighs, shaking their head in disapproval. "And I thought you were a nice MC, the kind of human who wouldn't hesitate to help out someone who needs it. You obviously don't have anything better to do, so just do my portion of the project. I'll pay you for your work."

What? 

Why is this Demon being so mean to you? 

Beelzebub truly doesn't understand why your classmate is treating you this way; you were very nice in turning them down. And he wouldn't want to do someone's project, either.

You clear your throat, "It's not about the Grimm; I just don't have time to do someone else's work. If you're struggling, I suggest you ask a professor to give you an extension." 

Your classmate is hovering over you now, trying to intimidate you with their size. "You don't seem to know your place, Human; when a demon asks you to do something, I expect you to bow your head and do it obediently."

The Scene before him is too much for poor Beel; angrily, he steps forward, placing a large hand on the other Demon's shoulder. "That's close enough, Mc said they did not want to do anything for you."

The Demon flinches as he turns towards Beel in shock. "B-Beelzebub, I'm sorry, but I needed to remind this human that we demons are superior.

Beel's hunger and anger have fused into one, and he looks down at the Demon with disdain. "Mc is and always will be more important than you; if anything, you should be doing their work."

"no, they don't; I just need them to do their own work." You interject

"R-right, thank you." They mutter, picking their bag off the floor and running away.

"Are you alright, Mc?" he asks, looking at you with a violet gaze of adoration. "That must've been pretty scary."

You nod and take his hand, "I'm okay now, Beel, thank you for stepping in. Can I buy you lunch as a thank you?"

"Could we go to Hell's Kitchen?"

"Absolutely," you smile, "anything for my hero."

Hero? He likes the sound of that for some reason; he smiles happily, picking up your books as the two of you walk side by side out the doors of RAD.

Belphegor:

It's the stiffness in his neck that wakes Belpheghor from his nap. Maybe taking a nap on top of all of these decorative pillows wasn't that good of an idea after all. He sits up slowly, rubbing out the knot in his neck, feeling quite annoyed at the situation.

"Oh Belphie, you're awake." you smile, poking your head into the doorway, "I just placed an order for food. It should be here soon if you're hungry."

Just like that, all of his annoyance has vanished. "Thank you, Mc." he grins boyishly; moments like these make him happy to be awake. 

"No problem, I think they are getting close; I'll wait by the door until it arrives," you say before disappearing down the hallway. 

It's then he realizes that you probably had to order a lot of food since Beel is getting home from the gym soon and will need help carrying it all to the dining room once it gets here.

Belphie gets up from his seat and heads over to the front door where you must be waiting.

"You sure ordered a lot of food. Do you need any help bringing it in?" a voice asks. The delivery driver must be here already. 

"Yeah, I guess I did go overboard," you say good-humoredly. "But It will all get eaten, I promise you that."

"You're pretty cute, aren't ya?" The delivery man cooed, pulling back the bag playfully. "How about you give me your number, and then you get your food?"

You laugh nervously at his words. "I'm sorry, but I can't do that."

"and why not?" They laugh cockily. "Are you feeling a little shy? Because that's cute too."

Belphie's jaw clenches as he wonders what is with this guy. How dare he try and take you away from him.

"I'm taken," you respond, the irritation slipping through your voice as you meet his gaze.

They scoff, tossing the bag of food on the ground roughly. "Aren't you just a fricken tease then? All I ask for is your number, so how about you be a good human and give it to me?"

Belphegor knows you could have handled this guy, but he was honestly so irritated he had to step in. "Ugh, you're so annoying. Mc already paid, so you can go on your way."

Your harasser is arrogant, not stupid. He knows that he has no chance against one of the seven avatars of sin. He shuts his annoying mouth and stomps down the steps of the House of Lamination.

You watch him leave with a relieved smile on your face, "are you okay, Mc?" he asks, grabbing your hand.

"I am now," you smile "Thank you for helping me, Belphie."

#obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #obey me scenarios #obey me x reader #obey me #obey me headcanons #belphegor x reader #belphegor fluff #obey me beelzebub #obey me satan #omswd x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #asmo x reader #beelzebub x reader #beel x reader

[liesonthefloordramatically]

While going through my sketchbook I found a couple of old (circa 2017) queer futurity memes that I apparently never uploaded so here they are.

#I deposit these gently on the ground for aceadmiral and then vanish once more into the ether #you can tell that these are from 2017 because the sweater in the first one is now deceased :') #I miss it every day...my beautiful emerald sweater.... #back when UNIQLO made clothes in jewel tones instead of just pastels and beige :')))))) #Queenie actually says something on this blog #queer futurity #wow there are probably people following this blog who have never seen a queer futurity meme? welcome

[amxriyaa]

sweater weather.

pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem Reader  black reader imagined, but anyone can read

summary: Steve comes home after being away for a bit. He’s missed you. Based off “Sweater Weather” by The NBH

word count: 2,568

warnings / tags: 18+, Smut, Mild Exhibitionism, Sleepy Sex, Face Fucking (with a hand), Creampie, Dirty Talk, Biting, Desperation, Kinda Fluffy. this is basically just porn. 

Please do not interact with this post unless you are 18+!!

A/N: i’ve never posted anything here before, so let’s pray i actually did this right. anyways, i hope you enjoy this!

Steve’s never said it out loud before - only because he’s never been prompted - but the transition from fall into winter is his favorite time of year. Losing his family so young proves for harsh memories, but when Thanksgiving turns into a small event spent watching heist movies - he’s really grown a liking for Ocean’s Eleven and Tower Heist - and preparing mac n cheese and stuffing with you in his arms, he can only see the upsides. You. His girl.

It’s probably your favorite, too, if you’re honest… Something about the cold weather in New York seems to discourage criminals. You can’t complain. Wouldn’t even dare, because it means more time spent with him.

He came home around seven last night with a new VHS tape (something he learned about and just won’t let go) and two bottles of Chateau Montelena - pronounced ‘Sha-Too Mon-Tell-A-Nuh’ as a terrible, terrible joke he won’t let go - in which you, with a smile on your face, caught the implications of the ruby liquid he clutched for dear life:

“Red wine is slutty, Steven.”

“Color me slutty, then.”

It was the first time you’d had your hands on him in a month, and now that you’re watching him sleep, mesmerized by the little sounds he makes - those soft, tiny noises akin to those of a cat’s purrs - and the way he bunches up the blankets when he flips over those few times throughout the night, burying himself like an adorable little groundhog - you think, ‘I wish I could have you to myself all the time.’

(It’s selfish, but whatever.)

You wrap your arms around him, pull him in close to feel his warmth. He always smells good, even when he’s just come home all sweaty, you’ve found, and you still don’t know how it’s possible for someone to smell like comfort. Warmth.

Cinnamon and bonfires. Cinnamon from the soap he’s fallen in love with, and bonfires from… somethin’. You don’t know, and neither does he.

You run your nails over his scalp, smelling his shampoo, desperate to have your hands all over. Fingertips meet carved marble - his pecs, abs - and you rake, rubbing your thumbs in slow circles to wake him easy. Maybe it’s selfish again - he’s probably tired, but you can’t resist. Refuse to, even, with the way the moonlight makes him glow, pale skin brought to life with glimmering, bluish light. Blue’s always been his color.

He groans, still sleepy before he rolls over to face you, nudging your hip to flip you over. “Hey, doll.” His words, groggy, rumble against the back of your neck, arm sliding down to clutch the space just under your breasts. He hooks, possessive. “Time is it?”

“Three A.M.”

You rut your ass back into his hips, his cock, already half-hard, and he gets the memo, knows you’re wanting. He hums, and the sound sends chills up your spine as he slips a hand to the space just below your ear and strokes gently, moving any errant hairs out of the way with a hazy, rough whisper of, “Needy baby.”

Kisses to that spot right below your earlobe make you tremble, your body lighting up with that familiar feeling he never fails to provide, his hands heavy and warm, his touches electricity. He guides your hand back to his boxers before pulling down your panties just enough for access. “You want it slow, doll?” he says, reclaiming his cock with his own hand, sluicing up the tip with the slick gushing from your pussy.

A weak nod is all he needs before he maneuvers your legs and slides inside, slow, so, so slow, lowly moaning in your ear with every inch engulfed. He sighs when buried, stroking your hip before another languid stroke, admiring your perfect body - all his - in the dreary moonlight.

Soft whines, gentle moans, broken whispers of his name… He likes you like this - all… fragile from his touch, that slight rocking of your hips into his when he hits a spot that makes your toes curl - right there, Stevie - and that way you turn to pieces with every movement, every word. “You smell so good… Just like me…”

And then there’s a lazy rhythm, the occasional smack of his thighs against your ass, wet kisses pressed to your back, all while he tells you just how much he adores you, how much he missed you, with his hand nestled loosely underneath your chin, almost as if to say, Mine.

All mine again.

✾  ✾  ✾

A new day.

The midday sun creeps through the windows, illuminating tangled bodies and depleted wine bottles, crimson red morphed into emerald green. The yellow and orange rays swirl into a symphony, adorn his cut body, make him look so pretty.

Golden God. Beautiful.

You unwrap yourself from him after brief adoration, your mind already set on other tasks.

On the ottoman at the end of the bed, already unwrapped, lies the brand new sweater you just purchased, pre-distressed because you thought it’d be cute on him… but more importantly, you thought it’d be cute on you, too.

You slip it on, despite it being way too big for you - but that’s kind of the point - and head out onto the balcony that overlooks the backyard, adorned with a lemon and orange tree, both covered in a thin layer of frost from last night’s harsher weather. Today, though, it’s a cool fifty degrees, perfect for sitting and scrolling Instagram while in his sweater and sweats.

The door creaks as he slides out in a pair of plaid pajama pants, lifting his arm over his head to scratch his bicep, eyes squinted, still looking sleepy. You peer up at him over your phone with a smile, free hand reaching out to grasp for his, which he takes gently before pulling you out of your seat.

It’s almost instinctual, the way he guides you to the edge of the balcony and settles behind you, arms tucked under yours and wrapped around your stomach. The lemon tree is where he sets his sights, chin finding the nook of your shoulder and neck, the warmth from his chest pressing against your back. He hums, the vibrations ripple down your spine. “I love that tree.”

“I prefer the orange. She’s cuter.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he pauses to press a kiss into your jaw, “yeah…” Warmth meets your collarbones, his lips travelling your upper body as he strokes your hips, depriving you of the much appreciated heat across your stomach. You make a noise, a sort of… delighted disappointment - happy with the attention, missing his warmth - but then his hips drag forward, and that’s when you feel his cock, a hard line against his thin pants, rubbing deliciously against the globe of your ass -

Your stomach jumps when he does it again and nestles his body up to yours.

“Stevie…” you whisper, chills cascading down your back as he nudges your head to the side, carves out a place for his lips to land against the column of your throat. He bites lightly, and you immediately know what he’s feeling: lust, desire, need -

He wants to fuck. Now.

The thought gets lost in the press of his hand between your thighs, and any remaining sense packs up and leaves, no warning, no hesitation. He murmurs your name, and there’s some sort of… yearning about it, almost like he didn’t see you last night… “You should wear my stuff more often.” Your breath hitches when his hand slips beneath your waistband, fingers rolling over your clit in slow, hypnotic circles… “Looks good on you… Me.”

“Please.”

It’s intoxicating - him, his desperation, and it makes the synapses in your brain fizzle out, send electric shocks down to your toes and right back up to the tip of your head, and, yeah, it’s a different kind of heat, but one that burns in the same way, and then you realize - “Wait - We’re… It’s…”

You’re still outside.

“Hmm?” he says, slipping both waistbands off your actual waist, shimmying them below the curve of your ass before fondling with little groans, and, God, you’d kill to hear that sound more often, to hear his sounds more often -

You’re still outside.

“It’s cold.”

“What a shitty reason.”

Maybe it is.  

(It is.)

There’s a bit more maneuvering - your hips are pulled back to fit against his better, his pajama pants are shimmied down below his cock, and he’s rubbing the tip, dripping with precum, against your holes, which is making it so much fucking harder to focus on the fact that -

You’re still outside, and Steve fucking Rogers should not be trying to fuck you on your patio in the middle of fucking autumn because someone might fucking see - “But… you…” you take a deep breath, “…you don’t have a shirt on.” Another shitty reason. A prod at your entrance makes your legs weak, a little shake that clearly betrays how wrong you know this is -

“I’ll hold my hands in the holes of your sweater.”

“Oh, God - ” you sigh, all concerns temporarily fleeting when you feel him press past, slowly eating away at your resolve, warm, calloused hands rubbing at your skin.

“Good, baby?” he mutters, inhaling deeply when he brings his nose to the crook of your neck, letting your scent warm his chest. He wiggles his hips ever so slightly, lets you adjust to those few inches as he waits for a response, imprinting kisses into your throat, hands pawing your breasts through the soft material of the sweater.

You nod, get a few muffled words out, your grip tightening on the railing as he buries himself to the hilt, stretching tender skin taut, still slow, still holding you steady, so fucking deep. “What if someone sees?” you breathe, words getting caught in the back of your throat - God, you’re so full - as you peer over your shoulder at him, noticing his frosty eyes have been completely devoured by the onyx of his pupils, lids hooded, hair mussed. He’s hungry.

An open-mouthed kiss finds your neck. “Don’t care. Want you here,” he whispers.

Dirty boy.

You nod again, too… blissed out to do anything else but let him have you here - of all places, here - and you’d be a liar if you didn’t admit the faint thought of someone seeing makes your body thrum something awful. He rocks, just a bit, humming in your ear when your walls flutter around him, then again, and again, until he starts up a lusty rhythm, hips rolling into your ass, eyes fixed on the way your mouth stutters open every time he nudges that sweet spot inside. “Still my babydoll, aren’t ya?”

He leans down, hunches over you, hand sliding up your chest. It settles beneath your chin, strong, large, and two fingers slip under your tongue as he fucks. “Missed it. Missed you.” An errant bead of sweat catches between his teeth, licked from your neck, and his warmth sends little pricks through your skin. Knuckles turn white when he grazes your shoulder in a bite, sinking his teeth, and there will likely be a mark tomorrow, but the thought sends you reeling. “Tell me you missed me, baby.” His desperate tone is decorated with a shaky breath.

You whine, manage to get a few words out, muffled by his fingers thrusting gently, hand holding a loose grip on your jaw - his.

“Gonna make you sloppy, huh?” Tender, bruises on your insides, you feel him pounding, gripping, pawing, hand hooked in your mouth in greed, in possession, claiming you and embedding himself. He wants it all. “Gonna fuck you open, right here for everyone to see, sweetheart… see how much I missed ya…” He wraps himself around you, possesses you, makes you feel him everywhere, in every nerve, and your body thrums with excitement, head lolling back onto his shoulder, mouth drenching his fingers in spit.

How does he do it?

He slips a hand through one of the holes in the sweater, clutching your stomach, nails clawing your sensitive skin, begging to be everywhere at once, begging to feel himself everywhere at once - You’re mine, baby. -

The sounds keep getting caught in your throat as that sinful, obscene noise of his skin slapping against yours makes your stomach do flips, your sweetness swimming in the air from the wetness between your legs. His fingers dip down between your thighs, spreading your wetness around your clit in frantic, taunting circles, pressing, and rubbing, and rolling, and the coil in your stomach can’t stop tightening with the dirty words mumbled into your shoulder - Squeezin’ me good, yeah… Yeah, what if someone sees, doll? Sees you takin’ my cock so good? -

You moan, a wretched sound that pulls a little laugh from him when he discovers that, yeah, you actually like this, like the faint chance someone might see how needy Steve Rogers gets for you after he’s been away for too long, too depraved to even think straight without making sure his cock still fits the way he remembers, that you still feel the way he remembers, the way he dreams about when he has to spend nights at the Avengers compound. Like a glove one size too small - tight, and snug, and so, so perfect -

“My baby likes it, huh? Gonna leave you a mess for everyone to see, doll… You want that?”

“Please, Stevie - ”

“Come on,” he pants, fingers smearing your drool across your chin before turning your head over your shoulder. “Need my best girl to come for me - Make my cock filthy with it sweetheart - ”

His teeth graze your shoulder just as he bites one more time, and you fall apart, moaning his name like a bitch in heat, all sensations from the cold muted as you jerk your hips back into his, your pussy like a vise around his cock as he keeps slamming into that sweet spot -

“Gonna give it to you, baby… Gonna give it all to you - Been too long, y’know? Can’t - Can’t keep my fuckin’ hands offa you - Gonna fill you nice ‘n full, doll - ”

And with a strangled groan, he buries himself deep, hips rutting and painting your bruised insides with thick ribbons of white, the remainder of his thrusts absolutely deranged, grunts broken up by stuttering pulses, hands forcing your hips back into his with a bruising grip.

The two of you sit there for a while, you desperately trying to catch your breath, collar wicked with sweat, him panting and whispering nonsense into your ear - You’re so good to me - and decorating your cheek and neck with sloppy, wet kisses. He pulls out after you feel like you can stand, and feels his chest tighten at the way his seed looks spilling out of you, adorning the insides of your thighs with his mark. Wrong for Captain America to be turned on by that, isn’t it?

Oh, God, how he’s missed you.

He pets the inside of your thighs with a few fingers before gathering the juices, then bringing slickened fingertips up to your lips.

You whine at the taste, sending the vibrations through his hand as you clean him with a smile on your face, licking your lips, He growls before kissing you hard, gripping the back of your head harshly, craning your neck backward to have you the way he wants you, until he sighs into your mouth. 

“S’little bit cold, isn’t it?”

divider from the lovely @stargazingfangirl18​​! thank you so much!

A/N: okay, so, first post down, hopefully many more to come. i still have a lot of things to figure out!! likes, comments, reblogs are appreciated! <333

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #fanfiction #smut #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x black reader #steve rogers x female reader #captain america fanfiction

[missdawnandherdusk]

Just A Kiss

Draco X Reader

Drabble Request: @gryffindors-weasley​: a first kiss with Draco

A/n: this is so cute, my lord. I don’t know where it came from but get ready for fluff and cuteness and ugggghhh. I’m also pretty sure that this is gender neutral but don't hold me to it if it isn’t.  I love you all! Let me know what you think!

“This is stupid,” Draco muttered as I dragged him up to the Astrology tower in the dead on the night.

“No, it’s not,” I argued, grinning. “It’s not every day that Jupiter and Saturn align like this! And on Christmas no less!” I couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled through my lips.

“Don’t see why that’s my problem,” He sulked as we entered the moonlit tower.

“Will you at least pretend to enjoy it?” A small pout fell on my lips as I took his hands, glancing up through my eyelashes.

“Fine, fine, let’s go see your Christmas star,” He dragged me to the nearest railing without my prompting, knowing exactly where it was in the sky. I caught the smile that played on his lips as we looked up at the stars.

“You’re excited about this as I am!” I accused, poking his side, eliciting a laugh from him.

“Am not!” He refuted, trying not to laugh further. “It’s late and cold and I’d rather be in bed right now dreaming of sugar plums,” He failed at scowling, the light in his eyes playing with the stars.

“I’m sure,” I rolled my eyes, standing at the railing again to watch the stars.

He came up behind me, wrapping me in his arms, his head atop of mine. I sought his warmth and leaned back into him, intertwining my gloved hands with his.

“Happy Christmas, darling” He murmured, warming me for another reason, from the inside. 

“Happy Christmas,” I turned, looking up at him.

His closeness caused my heart to patter in my chest, and my cheeks to flush red. Maybe he missed it from the cold that chilled our noses, or perhaps it was the same reason that he was flushed. I could see something in his eyes. Some sort of plan, a calculation. His eyes darted to mine, then to my lips and I had a good idea of what he was thinking.

We had been on this edge for a while. So close to a first kiss then one of us would back out, both too shy to act on it. But this was suddenly different. In the cold, not so white Christmas, under a planetary conjunction that only happened once every 800 years, it had to be different.

My tongue darted between my lips, pulling my bottom one back to catch between my teeth. Draco watched the entire action, his parted lips fanning my face with the warmth of his breath. Butterflies fluttered anxiously in my chest. The moment was suspended in forever.

“Are you gonna kiss me or not?” I blurted out, to both of our surprises. My eyes widened. “I—I only mean that—” I started to stammer out but not for long, because Draco found a pretty solid way to shut me up.

His lips pressed against mine, his hands cradling my face. I relaxed under his touch and the softness of his lips. I felt the chill of his nose against my cheek as we stood there under the Christmas star figuring out how to kiss. It was slow and languid. There was a pleasant twisting in my chest that begged for more. For warmth and him consuming every one of my senses. Pressed against him as one of his hands came to my waist holding me there, warmth spread through me from my toes to my fingertips.

We parted softly, just millimeters apart.

“Took you long enough,” I muttered playfully.

He laughed, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“I had to make sure it was perfect,” He noted, his gloved thumb stroking my cheek. “It’s not every day you get to do your first kiss,”

“So, you did want to see this star,” I grinned victoriously. “And you whined the entire way up here,”

“It wasn’t all about the star, love,” He mused. “But I knew you in the moonlight, pressed against me because it was cold, eyes shining like a kid on Christmas... it would be a moment I wouldn’t forget. A moment that I couldn’t say no to.”

“Sap,” I accused, nuzzling my nose to his.

“But it works,” His smile influenced mine.

“It does,”

“Now, as much as I’d love to spend all night up here with you under the stars, it is cold, and Christmas eve, so why don’t we head back inside?”

“Can’t handle a little cold Malfoy?” I smirked.

“You’re shivering, darling,” He raised an eyebrow at me.

“Just have to be right, don’t you?” I muttered, causing him to chuckle and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

Draco really must have planned the entire evening out, because in the common room a warm fire was in the hearth and there were two mugs of tea on the coffee table by the loveseat that was draped in blankets. The entire thing was lit by the crackling fire and the fairy lights that lit up the tree and garland about the room.

I paused, taking in the beauty of the room, my chill momentarily forgotten as Draco helped me out of my cloak.

“Are you coming?” Draco rose his eyebrow at me, offering my hand. 

“You... did all of this for me?” I was awestruck.

His gaze fell to the floor, as he smiled, embarrassed. “Might have been plan b,” He admitted. “If I lost my nerve in the tower...”

“Draco,” A soft laugh fell from my lips as I wrapped my arms around him. His hands reflexively went to my waist. “It’s perfect. Plan b or not, it’s still the nicest thing that anyone has done for me,”

“You deserve the world,” His earnest words made me melt. “I just want to give it to you. And I know it’s not much, and someone else could give you more but—”

It had worked earlier to shut up my doubting voice, and now with my lips pressed against his, Draco had no room to doubt himself. My fingers curled into the ends of his hair now that they were freed from gloves. The warmth that cradled me from the room met the fire that grew inside, wanting nothing more than to prove to Draco that I didn’t want anyone else and what he did was more than enough for me.

Our second kiss was just as memorable as our first one, but now that we were inside and there was no reason to stop, we didn’t. We were allowed to chase that feeling of want and warmth with soft purrs and gentle sounds. I ended up on top of Draco on one of the sofas, my senses now completely dominated by thoughts of him.

“Love,” He called, pulling away begrudgingly.

I hummed a response, my eyes staying closed, nuzzling my nose to his. Butterflies still fluttered happily in my chest.

“People will be down in a few hours for Christmas morning,” He sounded as disappointed as I felt. I must have made a face because he laughed. “Another time, I promise.” He tucked my hair behind my ear, “There’s no rush, I’m not going anywhere for a long time,”

I smiled at his words. “Thank you... for plan a and plan b. It was more than I could have asked for,”

“Not too overdone?” Doubt still seeded in his voice.

“It was perfect,” I affirmed. “You’re perfect,” I settled onto his chest, tracing abstract lines onto his cashmere sweater. Draco reached for a blanket and pulled it around my shoulders, covering us both.

“Goodnight my love,” He murmured softly.

“Night Dray,���

Draco had mentioned earlier of dreaming of sugar plum fairies, and now they led me into sleep. The security of his arms kept me warm. Thousands of stars danced in my dreams, and Draco led

the dance, pulling me into his arms, and deeper into the dream. A smile and kiss promised on his lips.

I was gently jostled, pulling me from the dream as my eyes barely fluttered open, somewhere between dream and reality.

“Shhh,” Draco hushed softly. “Just heading to bed, you’re alright,”

I smiled and closed my eyes, only clinging to consciousness long enough to curl into Draco’s arms as he tucked us into the comfort of his bed. I faintly felt a kiss pressed to my forehead before I slipped under again.

It was easy to say that Draco and I slept in longer than most that Christmas morning, already having the perfect Christmas the night before.

.

masterlist

.

more like this: 

stars above

beautiful ghosts

.

@coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18@whygz@crazywritingbug @bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog@savingdraco  @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse​ @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise @katsukink​ @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things​ @tmnt-queen@hxneybgb @belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms​   @cocochanelthepupper @ninacotte @braelynn-johnston     @jiggllyy @darcypotter-blog  @thiccheerioss@lottie289 @beautiful-pegasus@tceedlmao @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @dragonsandbread @the-queen-of-hell-things @alienmotel  @oh-itsnothing @sunflowerxsadnessw @fattycooter @fanficsigottaread​ @gweaslvy @strawberriesonsummer @gaysludge @ray-of-sunrise @artist-bby @shadowsingeraxolotl @quillsareforwriting @wollymalfoy @lilpieceoftoast @paper-cats @floweryjh @hufflautia @livize75 @annie-mcl @riathearora @live-like-luna @justathoughtfulangel @coconutdawn @skteaiy @naughtygranger @dragonsandbread @abundantxadorations​ @moony-artnstuff @and-then-a-girl-with-luv @1-800-luvsick @pandas-rice-field @in-slytherin-we-trust @emmaa-t​ @introvertedrae @infinity1o1 @echpr@dekulover @marshmallowtraver @cereuselle @lonely-skywalker @sleepysnapesnake​ @hoeforthefictional @coldlilheart @helen-paris @rosie-starlit-sky​ @vulture-withafile @hogstupefy @eveft @iraniq @groovyfluxie​ @cool-weirdo-wannabee-author @rosegold-thorns @criminaly-supernatural @ghostofdolans @mxl-foyrecs @ginger-haired-queen @bex4whovian @kellyrose193 @unlikelygalaxygiver @marvel-trash-was-taken @one-edgy-bitch@supersouthy @garbagejay@rejectedlonelyasianchild  @lucymxwell @coldlilheart @elia-the-bibliophile @biggalaxydreamland @fuckbuckyyy @hopem1218​ @youareinllve @tyrusparker @3rdofkingdomtrees​ @i-mmunity @zero-nightshade @graym01​ @fandomtrash88 @snakey-drakey @ceeellewrites​ @thatguppienamedbae @pinkleopardss @angel-blogging @xhoney-bee-x @jovialthings @samanthahaigwood @minigigglybabi @clumsy-writing-rdb @lahoete @yourenotafailureoverall @m-winchester-67 @shiningstar-byulxx@clumsy-writing-rdb @dracosathenaeum @dracofeltonmalfoy   @harryslouis​ @iilovemusic12us​ @itsbebeyyy @dumspirospero-1​ @kaye-lantern @anerroroccurrrrred @franbow29​ @big-galaxy-chaos @itsbebeyyy @gryffindors-weasley @ornella0910​ @ultrabuzzlightyear​ @phantomface1983 @emmalee12 @kuyrukludenizkizi @aubreylovesthegames @deafeninglandpersonempath @ackermanbitch @oingo233​ @drismultiverse-blog​ @majicbamana​ @harrypotter289​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @cupidpoison​ @brownwheatrice @introvertedrae @gryffindors-weasley​ @frecklesandfirecrackers​ @bitchinbadgers​ @mkstover​ @dracomalfoyreader​ @mortallythoughtfulgurl @sakumorubywy​ @smileycount​ @ceeellewrites​ @is-it-really-a-secret​ @blogforharrypotter​ @spencerreidisbootiful​ @lam-ila​ @justawilddreamerchild​ @heavenlyrainyparis​ @trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room​ @dracomalfoyreader​ @spellbinding10​ @justawilddreamerchild​ @queen-of-the-coven​ @potterpasties​ @trudabest​ @theonlystoriesiliketoread​ @daltonacademia​ @jemmakates @dannighost​ @imagines-andshizz​ @unstableye​ @hahee154hq​

#draco #draco x hufflepuff!reader #draco x reader #draco x you #draco x y/n #draco x #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #Draco Malfoy x OC #draco malfoy x #Draco Malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco redemption #draco malfoy redemption #redeem draco malfoy #redeem slytherin #Harry Potter #harry potter blog #harry potter fanart #Harry Potter rewrite #harry potter request #draco reader insert #draco request #draco malfoy request #ravenclaw #draco x ravenclaw!reader #draco malfoy x ravenclaw!reader #ravenclaw x slytherin #Gryffindor #Slytherin x Gryffindor

[imaslutforremusandsirius]

Soft

Hi, i was sad all day so i wrote this to cheer myself up lmao, please enjoy people :) This is really soft lol, don‘t expect hardcore shit

Warning: 18+

Right, lets go

---

It‘s been about two weeks since you and Remus have had a moment for yourselves. Everytime you decided to make time for each other something came up or he wasn‘t feeling well because of the moon. Both of you were angry and stressed and moody, because you wanted each other so bad, but the universe just seemed to be against the idea.

„I don‘t want to fight with you right now!“, Remus let out, voice loud, proving that he in fact did want to fight.

„Why are you yelling then?“ Your tone matched his, your mood quickly turning sour.

„I‘m not bloody yellin, you‘re jus‘ being a sensitive wuss. Fuckin‘ hell.“ He whispered the last part as fingers pressed against his closed eyes. He had fucked up.

Your jaw dropped, a disbelieving laugh escaping you. „A wuss!? You must be bloody joking right now! You utter ass, Remus Lupin!“

He groaned with annoyance, aggressively packing his bag as he made his way out of the common room. Stopping midway he turned around sharply and said in an overly cheery voice, „Whenever you decide to stop being a snotty brat, come find me!“ Bowing he gave you a mocking smile, not staying long enough to witness you giving him the finger. He did have an idea what you did though, hearing the others gasp as they watched the whole ordeal.

„What a prat“, Mary said, plopping down on your side as Lily took your other.

Lily rubbed your arm soothingly. „Hey, don‘t worry. Every couple fights and with the amount of stress weighting on us it was bound to happen...“

You let out a breath and leaned back against the couch. „I know he didn‘t mean it, but god-“ Your voice cut off, choking slightly as you tried to calm yourself. „I miss him and he‘s acting like I‘m being clingy. We haven‘t kissed in three days!“

Mary let out a sympathetic sigh, taking your hand. „I‘m sorry, I know it sucks. But I‘m sure that he misses you just as much. This is Remus we‘re talking about, the bloke never shows his emotions.“

„I agree“, Lily joined in, „besides James has been telling me that Remus has been shitty to them as well. It‘s not your fault, he just doesn‘t cope in a healthy way.“

Now you felt bad for riling him up. Remus must have been feeling really down lately for him to react like he did minutes ago. Of course he misses you goddamn it, the boy can‘t sleep through a single night if your aren‘t there.

„Merlin girls I feel so bad now. I need to make it alright again. I never even asked him how he‘s feeling..“

Mary smirked suddenly, giving you a pointed glance. „I mean...You did say that you needed some alone time..“

You smirked back, albeit blushing a little, and told her to continue.

„There is this muggle clothing brand Lily told me about...“

„Victorias Secret“ Lily offered, now smiling as well.

„Exactly! We should check it out. Besides our dorm will be empty tonight, we‘re planning to sneak out and stay with the girls from Ravenclaw.“

„I love where this is going“, you beamed, „Let‘s get going, I need sexy lingerie.“

---

The girls were bickering about what color suited your skin best, when you zoned put a little, remembering a conversation you had with Remus before youe started dating.

„I really like your sweater. Where‘d you get it?“

You smiled at Remus, thanking him. „Got it from a second hand shop in London. I just couldn‘t resist the color.“

Remus smiled back. „Yeah, emerald green is my favorite color. I‘d kill to have something in that color“, he joked.

You giggled, giving him a shy smile. „Well, maybe you will.“

Beaming you swirled around, grabbing their shoulders to get their attention. With a handful of underwear in their hands they turned around, raising their brows simultaneously.

„Girls, I remember his favorite color! It‘s emerald!“

It took you another hour to finally find the shade of emerald you were looking for and when you did you squealed with joy.

„It‘s perfect!“, you gasped. „Oh my god, he‘s going to love it! It looks just like my sweater!“

The girls grinned at your happiness, immediately pushing you towards the cash desk.

God, Remus is gonna love it.

---

You let out a breath, finally sitting down.

Lily emerged from the bathroom. „Alright, lets check. Bed clean?“

„Check.“

„Shower and lotion?“

„Check.“

„Washed the underwear?“

„Check.“

„Good. That should be all then. Mary and I are leaving now, if you want any snacks there are some in my trunk. Just take whatever.“

You hugged them gratefully. „Thank you girls, I love you.“

„We love you too. Have fun!“

Mary peaked her head through and laughingly let out a „Don‘t break the bed like last time!“ before Lily pulled her away.

You fondly shook your head and glanced at your bed where the pieces were laid out. It was a beautiful emerald lacy set, with a bra and panties with attached garter belts. James and Sirius had promised to send Remus up, so now it was time to wait. Putting the underwear on you lit some candles, fluffing your bed. Just as you slipped one of Remus‘ old shirts over your head the door opened, revealing your boyfriend. He shuffled inside, simply dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants and a black sweater, closing the door. Neither of you said anything for a few seconds, stranglely nervous.

„I‘m sorry-“

„I shouldn‘t have-“

You cut each other off trying to speak at the same time. You flushed as Remus chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

Remus finally walked towards you to pull you in, his hands gripping your waist tight. You put your face in his neck to breathe in his familiar scent. Books and chocolate and safe and warm. He smelled like eveything you love.

„I‘m sorry I never asked how you‘re doing. You never let it show and I forgot that even if you‘re my rock, you‘re human. You have the right to be overwhelmed Remus...“

He pressed a kiss on your crown, muttering in a soft tone. „I know, I‘m working on the communication part. I‘m sorry too, love.“

You pulled back, your chin resting ln his chest amd you gave him a coy smile. He raised his brow, smirking.

„I have something for you“, you drawled, pushing him on your bed to stand between his legs, „but you need to unpack it.“

Remus tilted his head to look at you, his gaze questioning.

„Take my shirt off.“

His lips parted and you could see the anticipation in his eyes. Slowly he glided his hands up your bare legs to grip the shirt, holding your intense gaze he pulled it up, groaning softly when he saw the garter belt peaking out. You let him pull the material over your head, your hair falling onto your shoulders.

He let out a breathless laugh.

„You look stunning.“

A kiss on your sternum.

„The most beautiful person in the world.“

A kiss on your belly.

„So fucking perfect.“

A kiss on the hem of your panties. Another on your hipbones. The last ones on the tops of your thighs.

You tugged at his hair to make him look at you. Bending down at the knees you kissed his mouth. He looked up at you with pure adoration, as if he was looking at a goddess.

„Remus“, you called his name softly, „Will you let me fuck you tonighg?“

He closed his eyes groaning. „Anything“, he breathed.

You smiled softly. „Take of your clothes and lay on the bed.“

He complied immediately, taking his clothes off and rested on the bed. You straddled his waist, his hands coming up to rest on your thighs, his fingers playing with the garter belts. Remus is usually very dominant in bed, throwing you around and making you take him. But in times like this, where he lets you take the wheel, you know that you have to treat him very gently.

You leaned down, brushing your lips against his. He parted his mouth with a single breath and you connected your lips. Moaning, his arms snaked around your waist to pull you closer and he kissed you deeper. Your tongue licked at his bottom lip and he opened his mouth to let you in. Dominating the kiss, you bit his lip teasingly.

„Love, please I need you.“

You shushed him, kissing his jaw and chin, sucking on his neck. Your lips brushed against his chest, lips locking around his nipples, licking and bruising them. Moving further down his body, you sucked at his hipbones, your nose brushing against his happy trail. He bucked his hips moaning your name.

You wrapped your lips around the tip and massaged him with your tongue, tasting the precum. You hummed softly and he hissed, hands stroking your hair and he parted his legs a little. Your hand tugged on his heavy balls, your mouth taking him deeper.

„Fuck baby, yes!“

You sucked hard and he whimpered, hand tightening in your hair. Your tongue played with the vein on the side of his cock, making him twitch inside of your mouth.

„If you ah don‘t stop-“

He choked on his words and you pulled off, wanting him inside of you when he came.

„How do you want me?“, you whispered softly as you moved to take off your panties.

„On your back, wanna see your face...“

You laid down and he sat there for a second, admiring your beauty. The way your hair sprawled around you, the swell of your breasts in the emerald bra, your soft skin and parted lips.

He placed himself between your legs, hands on either side of your face. Remus‘ cock brushed against your slit, slowly sliding in and you let out a breath against his lips.

He groaned, holding your gaze and pushed inside, a vulnerable glint in his usually guarded eyes. You pulled him closer, his chest brushing yours and looped your legs around the back of his hamstrings. He was going in deep and slow strokes, just wanting to feel close to you. Hitting the spot inside of you, you let out a broken whine, pushing youe hips up to meet his thrusts. He went faster, still a tender look in his eyes and his other hand rubbed your clit.

You gasped at the contact and whimpered. Tightening around him, you mewled „Remus m‘gonna cum-“

„Cum love, fuck“

You came at the same time, looking at each other lovingly as he kissed you. His hot seed spilled deep inside of you and you smiled breathless.

„I love you so much“, Remus whispered, kissing all over your face.

„I love you too.“

#remus x you #remus lupin smut #remus lupin

[bisexualdaemon]

something missing | feysand oneshot

a/n: oh hello! idk this just kind of....happened? it came upon me unexpectedly. I’m rereading ACOFAS and it’s snowing outside so...here’s some sugar-coated fluff laced with filth for this sinday :)

warnings: 3.3k of fluffy smut and smutty fluff

Hmmm. Feyre worried the paint brush stuck between her lips with her teeth. There was something missing from the painting. Frost and Starlight, she had called it in her mind walking through the Palace of Thread and Jewels that day before Solstice. Now, weeks later, she clung to the buzz of the early chill of winter, wanted to remember the bustling life that had turned scarce in the city. 

It was now bitterly cold—according to Mor, colder than it had been in Velaris in decades. The streets were mostly empty, quiet except for the bundled shuffling of people coming and going but rarely standing for too long. Feyre could hear the wind beating at the locked gallery door, could feel the cold pushing against the magic of her floating flames. The only thing keeping her from freezing to death in the dimming light of the Rainbow. 

Even the Rainbow had been less alive lately, artists only leaving their studios for occasional supplies. The musicians had taken to giving little salon concerts. Only the most desperate had remained busking outside. Feyre had persuaded Rhys into magicking some coins into their open instrument cases, enough to keep them out of the cold for awhile.

She shook her head and refocused on the swirls of color in front of her, the painting that might have been finished if she weren’t so set on the details of it. What’s missing?

I don’t know, but I know what I’m missing. Feyre smiled involuntarily, his purr down the bond snaking its way down her spine. 

Incorrigible. Where have you been? If you went someplace warm without me, I’m staying at the gallery and you can sleep alone in our cold bed with none of what you’ve been missing. 

Rhys chuckled. On the contrary, my love. I was in the Steppes with Az, settling a few more of the descenters down. I’ve been freezing my balls off all day. 

Feyre shivered just thinking about how cold the war camps must be, the rows of tents barely standing up to the winds. But she couldn’t resist the door he’d left open. Poor Illyrian baby, so afraid of losing something important to a little cold spell.

He sent a rude gesture down the bond and Feyre smirked, taking the paint brush from her mouth to shove into the messy bun on top of her head. She paused halfway when her mating ring caught one of the faelights behind her, setting the brilliant sapphire glittering. Ah, that’s what’s missing. 

She dipped her brush in a tiny bit of white paint and leaned into the canvas, dabbing little specks here and there, in every window in her frozen Palace. When she sat back, the effect set her eyes sparkling. The blues and reds and greens of her scene turned into glittering sapphires and rubies and emeralds. The jewels the Palace was famous for leaped off the canvas and twinkled behind the glass, worthy of the astonishment she had painted in the faces walking past.

Beautiful, he breathed, seeing the painting through her eyes. Lately, she had been leaving her mind open to him when she painted. He didn’t pry often, but she found she wanted to share a little of her process with him. Even if she couldn’t talk about some of her feelings, some of the things they left in the darkness, she could show him here in the quiet of the gallery at night. 

Feyre felt him before even the shadows could react to his winnowing. Rhys grazed the skin at the edge of her sweater, just below her neck. Shivers ran down her spine again, but not because of the cold. Her nipples hardened in response to his touch, a kindling warming low in her abdomen. 

“Hello, Feyre darling.” 

His solid presence relaxed her, the warmth of him radiating into her back. She exhaled and leaned into him as his hands left her neck to wander down her front, skillfully avoiding the hardened peaks that reached for him. Even with the stool, he still towered over her, giving him enough room to rest his chin on top of that messy bun. 

“Gods, I missed you,” he inhaled, breathing her scent, now eternally mixed with paint, “the Illyrians are such bastards when they’re being obstinate.” 

“What did you and Az have to do?” Feyre ran soothing fingers up and down his arms still covered in Illyrian leathers. 

“Nothing too taxing, just some strong words and a demonstration.” She could feel him tense up, even as his wandering hands caressed her sides, trying to find the hem of her sweater. 

“Did you kill anyone?” Such a casual question, but even with the veil of sarcasm he knew she would want a serious answer. 

“No, but let’s just say a couple of their captains won’t be flying anytime soon.” He let some of the tension he always carried after bad days melt away as he curved into her, moving to pepper her neck with sloppy kisses. 

“Rhys,” she moaned, combing her fingers through his hair that was still damp from the Illyrian snow. “Let me clean up and then you can ravish me at home all you like.”

His teeth grazed her earlobe and she bent her head sideways giving him more room. Just as his fingers finally found that hem of her sweater. Snow-cold fingers tickled the skin just above her leggings. Feyre yelped and twisted on her stool, finally turning to face him fully. His eyes were pure violet fire, taking in every inch of her, from her wild hair to her booted feet. His chest raised and lowered quicker with each passing second, the bulge in his pants evidence of his mirrored desire. She bit her lip. And he snapped. 

Fuck the house, he purred down the bond. His mouth collided with hers as strong hands lifted her from the stool. She wrapped her legs around his waist, careful to avoid his sensitive wings. His pouty lips devoured hers, a wild moan escaping him as he tugged at her bottom lip. Feyre could sense him reaching with his magic, trying to find some place to put her down so he could properly have his way with her. Out here it would be the wall between the hung paintings or the cold floor. She knew he was weighing those two options. 

There’s a table in the back room, she panted, clawing at his mental walls with the promise of what was to come. If she was honest, she wouldn’t have minded the wall, but the paintings were precious and she knew they wouldn’t be hanging for very long. He carried her, his mouth still firmly pressed against hers. She shifted her head and opened fully for him, inviting him into her mouth with a flick of her tongue against his. He tasted like citrus kissed with the bitter tang of whiskey, left over from the drink he’d had to take the edge off the demonstration earlier. 

When he kicked open the back room door, Feyre’s floating firelight followed them, immediately stoking and warming the space. 

You’re getting better at that. His praise was like gasoline on that kindling inside of her, kicking up a blazing fire that sang through her blood, through her bones. He deposited her on the worktable, only taking a second to notice the sharp scent of paint and the supplies that littered the space behind her. His lips curled, this reminds me of the cabin. Remember how messy it was?

“It was our mating,” she answered out loud, “I remember every second of that day.” I can still feel it here, Feyre took his hand and guided it under her sweater to press against her panting heart. He stepped closer to rest his brow against hers, dragging a finger down her cheek. It was a second before his soft smile went devilish, another second before she felt the wet streak where his finger had been. 

He wiggled a cerulean-tipped finger at her. 

“Rhysand!” 

He tipped his head back and roared with laughter as she slapped at his leather-clad chest. The closest jar to her was a cotton candy pink. She snapped her fingers and his leathers disappeared, leaving a perfectly sculpted tan chest for her to draw a big heart on with her fingers. 

Hmpf. Turnabout is fair play. The playful gleam in his eye sparkled as he snapped his fingers and her clothes just...disappeared. She quirked an eyebrow, I hope you’re giving those back before we leave. A low growl rumbled beneath her fingers still toying with his chest. 

I’ll take it under advisement. You might have to beg me. A wry smile formed on his lips as he dipped that same cerulean finger into the pink paint and swirled it between her breasts, a trail of purple from her throat to her belly button. Feyre exhaled heavily and leaned back on her hands, scattering some charcoal pencils. They echoed in the cold space when they clattered to the floor but she didn’t care. She was naked and Rhys was not. Her legs spread a little wider against the edge of the table, putting herself on display for him. 

“Wicked, beautiful creature.” His hot breath ricocheted off her chest where his paint marks were quickly drying. It was a struggle to keep from moaning at the touch of his fingers toying with the inside of her spread thighs, dangerously close to the liquid fire pooling between her legs. He grinned at her restraint, the muscles dancing beneath her skin. “What do you wish of me, High Lady?” 

“I wish…” she tilted her head back in a slow roll, “I wish…” When her eyes met his again, their intensity burned anew. “I wish for you to take me like you did that first time,” snapping her fingers to rid him of the last of his clothes, “no holding back.”

His knees shook like a newborn foal at the command in her words. He kneeled before her on those tattoos he’d had as a reminder for centuries. I will bow before no one and nothing but my crown. The crown he shared with her. He bowed now, as he had before, as he would many, many more times before they were through with this life. The most powerful High Lord in history sent to his knees by his Queen. 

He forced her thighs even wider to accommodate his broad shoulders between her knees. His Fae eyesight didn’t miss the way her stomach muscles clenched as he played with the sensitive skin at her hips, his fingers making a slow path to her spread thighs. He cupped the back of her knees and quickly pulled her closer to his waiting mouth. 

Her yelp turned to a deep moan when he finally tasted her. Fingers immediately weaved into his hair as her back arched off the table. Gods, you taste like honey. You’re so wet for me, Feyre. 

She didn’t have any coherent words to send back to him, just waves of pleasure licking down the mental bridge between them. He suckled at her folds, drank from her, his holy font atop his only sacred altar. She writhed beneath his fingers moving over her warmed skin, let out a groan so deep he felt it vibrate against his face when he found her peaked nipples swollen and screaming for him. He felt her toes curl against his back, stroking his wings in places that made him moan into her. 

It was the last swirl of his tongue, a figure-eight pattern from her entrance to that bundle of nerves at the apex of her folds that finally sent her chanting his name over the edge. She wasn’t sure if it was out loud, but she knew he heard her either way. His wings flared proudly, knocking over a row of easels propped against the side wall, but he couldn’t hear the noise over her heartbeat pounding across the bond. 

The force of her climax pushed her into a sitting position, her fingers still curled in his hair holding his head against her as he stroked his tongue with every wave of pleasure. Even when she was spent, her thighs trembling over his shoulders, she couldn’t neglect him. Her fingers combed through his hair and snaked down his back, busying themselves with the grooves of his wings as he sucked a mark into the inside of her thigh. She made to release him, allow him off his knees, but he growled. 

Don’t stop.

The corners of her mouth curled upward. Is it truly like stroking you...elsewhere?

Well, Feyre darling, how do you feel when I stroke that one spot near the base of your left wing?

She clenched her thighs around his head at the thought. Point taken. 

He stretched his wing in encouragement. She followed his lead, splaying her hands across the membranous skin, tracing his scars. The feeling was, well he couldn’t quite think straight. Pleasure was too tame a word to describe the white-hot fire that licked his wings every time she ran her fingers over the spines, the scars, the muscles that purred and loosened for her. She pressed in at the space between the primary spine and the muscles in his back. He moaned so loud the paint jars rippled. 

Mother above, stop. 

It’s poor form to blaspheme in such a compromising position. Feyre grinned like a cat about to pounce on its prey. This was what she had been waiting for.

Feyre Cauldron-Blessed would know. He sucked in a breath. Her hands hadn’t moved. If you don’t stop, I’m going to spill a different kind of paint on this floor and ruin all our fun. 

Such a messy Illyrian brute. But she let him go, let him rise from between her thighs and stand. He was at full attention, wings spread wide to prolong the feeling of her fingers on the sensitive skin. Even now, after almost a year with him, she still marveled that this thing between them was real. That she was his and he was hers. My mate. 

She reached for him again, low. It was his turn to chant her name. 

Rhys caught her wrists, turning her hands over. He pressed a kiss to each palm. I’m plenty primed, my love. 

Feyre wrapped her legs around his waist, forcing him closer, so close to where she wanted him. She knew he liked this position, liked to watch her respond to him. He gripped her hips and positioned himself right at the precipice, took a breath. And pushed in to the hilt. 

Their collective moans shook the little back room, shadows gathering against the walls. Rhys’s eyes were fathomless pools of violet, boring into her very soul. He opened his mind fully to her and saw herself through his eyes, felt the love and the unending desire for her, tasted herself on his tongue. 

I love you. His voice clanged through her, flipping that light switch that lived deep inside of her, that little piece of Day linked to moments of pure joy. Her skin began to glow, only growing brighter when he moved within her. Slow strokes at first, deep inside. Shadows began to lick at her light, snaking against her responsive skin, the contrast only making her shine brighter. 

His thrusts quickened, control flickering with his hips. The hands that gripped her were little more than wisps of darkness, but she could feel his claws lengthening. Feyre reached back to grip the table, but instead knocked over a full jar of paint, splashing green into her hair, onto her skin. 

She laughed, tightening around him. The snarl he released shook her very center, pummeling the dam that he was determined to break for a second time tonight. She sent paint flying through the air on a breeze, landing squarely on his chest like a bullseye on a dart board. Her giggle sent his shadows skittering. 

Laughing at a male in the throes of pleasure is unbecoming of a High Lady, he panted down the bond. 

And how would you know? There’s never been a High Lady before me. Her eyes threatened another laugh until he hauled her leg off the table and shifted his hips. Her eyes rolled back. The floating fire around them surged with her answering moans, sweat beading on both of their brows. 

His hips stuttered. He was close. Feyre reached out and ran a hand down the open gates of his mind. Rhysand, she purred. 

He looked at her, his pupils narrowing, that beast of his barely concealed in this place between pleasure and chaos. His thoughts were a rush, his senses too open to hold on to any particular thought for long. The only thing she could make out other than pure sensation in his mind was one repeated word. 

Feyre, Feyre, Feyre—

Her name. Over and over again. His tether to this world, to the light. 

Rhys. She brushed at the claws on her hips, catching his attention. Come with me. 

The roar was deafening. Anyone else would have been terrified, but all Feyre could do was launch herself over the cliff with him as he finally plunged headfirst into his own pleasure. Blazing light flashed. Her light. Her joy, covering Rhys’s darkness with her own body as he collapsed into her, panting heavily against her shoulder. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, calming the tremors that rolled through him. 

For a few moments the only sounds in the room were the crackling of Feyre’s dying fire lights and their ragged breathing. When Rhys could finally lift himself onto his hands, he just looked at her for a long moment. 

Thought for a thought? she wiped at the sweat dripping from his temples. 

He smirked at her, I was thinking that if I didn’t already know what it feels like to die, I would think you were trying to fuck me to death. 

Her answering laugh shook her whole body, down to the place where he was still sheathed inside her. Rhys hissed, slowly withdrawing. He watched her glow dim. It always did when they parted, a fact that made him equal parts proud and melancholy. She sat up and stretched, cocking her head as he snapped his fingers to clean them off enough to get to the bath at home, leaving only the paint behind. He always liked to scrub that off of her himself.

“I’m going to have to come in early to clean up,” she worried at her lip, surveying all the spilled paint. The room was a bit of a wreck. Tumbled easels, green and blue paint dripping from the table onto the floor, scattered pieces of drawing paper with distinct details from his mate’s naked body outlined in pink and purple. Rhys scoffed and snapped again, setting everything right. 

Feyre grumbled, “you still need to teach me how you do that.” 

“I promise I will, but I’m still waiting for my thought,” he said, as he snapped a third time. Her clothes reappeared in a neat pile. They both dressed as she formed the words in her mind. Words to convey the way her pulse ticked up every morning in the shade of his wing, the way her cheeks pinked with the faintest touch of his fingers on her skin. 

“Will it be like this always? Will I still want to rip the leathers off of you in a thousand years?” He walked over and took her hands, the movement of his sleek black sweater and trousers the only sound in the room. Warmth passed between them, through their clasped hands and the look he gave her. Like a thousand years was only the beginning of their forever. 

“I hope so, Feyre. I really hope so.” He pressed a kiss to her temple and winnowed them both home. 

fin.

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acofas #sarah j maas #sjm #feysand #feyre archeron #rhysand #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar smut #my writing #acomaf #acowar #acosf

[jadedxrealityw]

-Courage- Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

    ♡~🐍~♡

   Request:  hello there 😃 can i request a draco x gryffindor! reader where draco is kind of secretly in love with her and he finally takes the courage to ask her out on a hogsmeade date?? just draco being super cute and a gentleman and maybe he gives her his coat because it's cold??? just something super cute (the kind of rotting teeth lol). an e ways, i love your work and i hope you are doing well ❤❤

   Kody- yeah fluff! 

   Warning: A little bit of cursing, nervous Draco and the fluff overload.

   House: Gryffindor

   ♡~🐍~♡

   the Slytherin boy hushed his fellow housemates as he spots your H/C hair as you turn into the hallway him and his friends were standing in. His eyes study each step you take as you walk. You were casually chatting with Hermione Granger, a conversation that he couldn’t hear.

    as you past by him, you turn your head to face the Slytherin boy. He feels his body freeze as his grey eyes meet your E/C ones. You smile at him and wave politely. His body couldn’t function properly as he saw your beautiful smile. The tall Slytherin Blaise looks at his lovestruck friend and lifts Draco’s arm.

   he moves the pale boys arm side to side, to simulate a wave. You giggle and feel Hermione nudge your shoulder, she gave you a knowing look and you rolled your eyes before the both of you left the hallway. Blaise let go of his arm and sighed “You are pathetic”

   Draco groans in annoyance and crosses his arms “Shove off. I’ve never done the emotions thing okay? It’s-” “Different” Blaise finishes. The young Malfoy nods slowly. It was strange really. A gryffindor girl had stolen the heart of the cold boy who people feared because of his wealth and status.

   but you weren’t intimidated by him in the slightest, you treated him like every other person and chatted with him whenever he was around. When no one was around, you knew him as the soft Draco who talked about how much he liked Alchemy and Quidditch. 

   while others knew him as the bully who picked on anyone who got in his way. God forbid he was in a bad mood and someone accidently bumped into him. It wasn’t a pretty sight to say the least. He tried his hardest to be good around you, the way he would switch up attitudes when you walked by was comical.

   even when your fellow Gryffindors told you about Draco’s bully, you would always say “Well we don’t know what happens in his home life, it could just be the way he was raised or how he deals with his emotions. We have no room to judge”

   it was inevitable the way he fell for you.

      ♡~🐍~♡

   “Okay, now remember what we practiced” Blaise spoke as he patted the pale boys back. Draco was sweating bullets as his hands gripped the white roses in his hand. “How in the hell did you convince me to do this?” Draco sputters out as he runs a hand through his platinum blond locks. 

   Blaise shrugged “Simple actually, i called you a pussy” Draco narrowed his eyes “Right” he grumbles and feels Blaise nudge his shoulder. He points to a group of two Gryffindors and one Ravenclaw. You, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood. 

   as soon as Draco saw you, his little to no confidence drained from his body completely “I can’t do it” he goes to turn around, but Blaise grabs his by the hood of his robe “Not going to happen. Now man up and go ask her out. Who are you? I thought you were Draco Malfoy? Not some wuss”

   Draco rolled his eyes “i am not a wuss” he snaps. “Oh really? Then go ask her out” Blaise grins and gestures to your little group. Draco takes a deep breath and shakes his hands a bit ‘Don’t screw this up’ he thought and began to make his way over to you.

   when he was a couple feet away, you looked up from Luna’s book and see your other platinum blond friend and feel your heart skip a couple beats. “Hey Draco” you say with a polite smile. You could tell he was anxious by his demeanour, you just didn’t know why he was. ‘was he holding something behind him

   he smiles nervously and points in the direction behind you. “Can i talk to you in private?” he asked. You didn’t mull over your answer much and nodded, breaking away from your group of friends. The Slytherin boy leads you to the other end of the courtyard.

   when he stops, he turns and face you, holding a single white rose. Your eyebrows furrow slightly in confusion “Um- So the Hogsmeade trip is this saturday and i- well. I wanted to know if you wanted to go with me?” he sputters out. It was quite amusing to see how much he spiraled.

   your lips turn up in a amused grin “Are you asking me out, Draco Malfoy?” he seems to study for your face for any signs of disgust or resentment before answering “Yes. Yes i am” he says a bit more confidently. Your heart rate picks up a bit and you nod slowly “I’d love to” you spoke.

   his grey eyes lit up a bit at the world love and he coughed a bit, trying to keep up that confidence. “I’ll see you Saturday, in front of The Three Broomsticks” he speaks, his signature smirk gracing his pale features. You nod once and take a step forward, closer to him.

   he seemed a bit shocked and his body tensed up again. Holding in your laughter, you grab the rose from his hands and smell it, the sweet fragrance filling your nose. A calm feeling spread through you and you look up at him, giving him a smile. “Thank you, Draco” 

   you lean up and plant a quick kiss on his cheek. You could very easily see the dark blush against his pale skin and pull away “Goodbye” you spoke and turn away, holding the rose between your thumb and index finger, leaving Draco stunned in your wake. He let out a deep sigh and crouched down

   “Merlin i am pathetic” he mumbles.

   ♡~🐍~♡

   “I can not believe your going on a date with Draco Malfoy. I can’t believe he asked out a Gryffindor half-blood as well.” Hermione exclaimed from beside you. You laugh as you continue walking along the path of Hogsmeade adjusting your outfit hear and there. “You’ve said that three time now since we left the train ‘Mione. Now i have to get going”

   you point to The Three Broomsticks and give her a polite smile before walking into the establishment. You gaze around until your eyes land on the familiar Slytherin sitting down at a table. You walk over, saying excuse me to people who were in your way. When you got to the table, you sat down abruptly.

   Draco looks up at you and gives you a nervous smile “Hey” he breathes out. Immediately regretting his choice of introduction. “Hi” you reply back with a small chuckle. “Um i ordered two butterbeers for us, they should be here any minute” he says and you nod slowly.

   ‘This is so awkward’ you both thought.

   soon enough, like Draco said the butterbeers came and the waiter place both glasses on the table. You both reach for the same glass, your fingertips graze against each other and Draco pulls back instantly and goes for the other glass. You chuckle lightly and pick up the butterbeer, bringing it up to your mouth.

   he does the same and takes a sip before placing it back down at the table “You are so tense” you say, making his grey eyes widened to the size of saucers. “I am aren’t i?” he says, a nervous smile playing at his lips. You nod “You are never this nervous when we talk before. Is it because it’s a date?”

   he didn’t like how well you read him, but at the same time he loved it. He was conflicted at the moment actually. “Yeah” he spoke. You smile kindly “Then don’t think of it as a date and think of it as us casually hanging out like we always do." Draco smiles and nods his head “Okay”

   “Now if you see me with hair dye on Monday, you didn’t. Me and the twins are turning Snape’s hair pink” You grin and watch as the boys face turns into one of astonishment “Your such a troublemaker” he laughs and you raise a brow “Would you expect any less?”

   ♡~🐍~♡

   with your advice. Draco became less tense around you, just enjoying your presence. After ‘The Three Broomsticks’ you both went to a couple other places. Now it was late in the evening and the both of you missed the train back to school and were walking along the path.

   “I can’t believe we missed the train” you laugh before taking another lick of your sugar quill. He laughs along with you, popping another flavor bean into his mouth. “Good thing were almost there” he spoke and you nodded. The wind started to pick up and a harsh breeze blew against you.

   goosebumps dotted all over the exposed skin on your arms and a bit of your stomach. You shivered and wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to sheild yourself from the wind. Draco turns his head and looks at you, noticing your shivering body.

   without hesitation he starts to take off his black jacket. He goes over and drapes it over your shoulders. You look at him and go to take it off “I don’t want you to be cold-” “-nonsense. I have a sweater on anyway.” he shrugs, gesturing to his emerald green Quidditch sweater.

   you smile lightly and put your arms through the sleeves and zip it up. It was definitely too big for you, but was indeed warm. Draco looked at you and felt his heart race. In his eyes you looked absolutely adorable in his jacket and his heart melted at the sight.

   you catch his gaze and tilt you head “Is there something on my face?” you ask and he shakes his head rapidly “No. Of course not, you just look good in my jacket” he says, regretting his words a bit. A cheeky grin decorated your face ‘did he just compliment me?’ “Thanks” you nod and both go back to walking.

   ♡~🐍~♡

   you both had just walked into Hogwarts and were walking down the halls. Your hands were at your side as you made your way through the halls and during your stroll you felt a hand graze yours. Draco wanted to hold your hand, but was too much of a wuss to ask. 

   after doing that a couple more times with no response, he went to pull his hand away and was shocked to feel your fingers interlocking with his. A stupid grin was plastered on his face as you both now walked hand in hand. Soon enough you made it to the Gryffindor common room.

   “Well thank you for the lovely day Draco. I had a lot of fun” you spoke and he nods in reply “I did too” he says and feels you let go off his hand and open your arms out for a hug. Draco wraps his arms around your waist and embraces you. The smell of green apples fills your nose as you dig your head into his neck.

   his scent calms you in a way and you smile. He smiles as well, trying to ignore his increasing heart rate. After a minute or two, you pull away slightly and observe as Draco’s grey eyes flicker to your lips and back to your eyes. You could tell that he wanted to kiss you. Hell, you wanted to kiss him.

   you could see the conflict flicker in his eyes. Weighing his options you presume. You felt his grip on your waist loosen “Draco Malfoy, if you don’t kiss me right now” you narrow your eyes a bit. Draco sighs in relief and smashes his lips onto yours.

   you respond by kissing him back and smile into the kiss. He does as well, using one hand to cup to your face while the other traveled to the small of your back to pull you flush against his chest. A kiss did get a little sloppy towards the end, but you both couldn’t control yourselfs. 

   something called oxygen interrupted your kiss and you both pulled away. Heavy breathing was heard between the both of you. “I- wow” Draco breathed out, a laugh following. “yeah wow” You repeat and the both of you let go of each other. “I’m really glad you said yes to the date”

   “Me too. Considering your hopelessly in love with me right?” you say, quoting a conversation you heard earlier in the day. His eyes widened before he looks down in shame “Oh merlin, you heard that” he sighs and you chuckle. “Good thing i’m also in love with you too right?”

   he looked up quickly when he heard that, hope filling his eyes again “yeah. It’s great actually” he spoke a little loudly and you laugh, hushing him “Sorry” he mutters with a sheepish smile and you give him a reassuring smile. “Well it’s late. I’ll see you tomorrow right?” 

   he nods and you turn to whisper the password to the fat lady “You still have my jacket” you heard him say as the portrait opens. You take a step in and turn around giving him a cheeky smile “Oh i’ll give it back. On our second date of course.”

   before he could say anything the portrait closed and he smiled “I’m going to marry her”

   ♡~🐍~♡

   Kody- This is hella fluff. Just a shit ton of fluff dude. Anyways, peace.

#draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco x you #draco x y/n #draco x gryffindor!reader #x reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #imagine #one shot #one shots #oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #hp #harry potter #potterhead

[hsbeloved]

night drive

hihi! just a short little (y/n) friends to lovers thing (minus the lovers part. sorry, no smut this time) kinda hate how this one ended, felt a little rushed to me but in my defense i wrote this at like 3am in about 40 minutes. messages with input are always appreciated! <3

warnings: none

word count: 3.1k 

I had been mindlessly bingeing some new netflix show when I'd felt my phone vibrate on the bed next to me. I was almost tempted to ignore it. Scared it was my best friend with yet another invite to some trashy party her new boyfriend was throwing at his frat house. I had never once accepted and yet that never stopped her from trying to get me to join her. I knew deep down she was just trying to be a good friend. I almost felt bad. Almost.

When it turned from incessant thumping to a high pitched tone indicating an incoming call, I decided it had to be important. No one ever called me unless it was. When I picked it up from beside me, I squinted at the screen that was slightly blurry from my eyes not yet adjusting to the brightness. Instead of trying to read the name, I blindly swiped to answer.

"Hello?" I croaked out, my voice cracking a little from not using it for a while.

"'Hey y/n! Whas'up? Too busy sleeping to text me back, huh?"

Gasping a little, I sat up a bit straighter. Goosebumps immediately etched themselves upon every inch of my skin. It was Harry.

"Uh hey Har. No, not sleeping. Just busy doing uh-" I searched my eyes around my room looking for an excuse that wasn't me being a loser and watching tv by myself on a friday night. "Cleaning. I was cleaning. Everything okay?" I rushed out.

He was silent for a moment before I heard a slight chuckle. "You? Cleaning? Thas' funny, love. Can't remember ever seein' yah tidy up anything before"

I couldn't help but giggle a little at this. He was right, of course. I hated cleaning and he knew that. "Hey! I clean. I'm a very cleanly person, okay?"

"Alrigh' alrigh', calm down. Was jus' teasin'. Was actually callin' to see if yah wanted to come for a drive with me. Need to clear my head a bit and could use some company" I couldn't be sure, but he sounded dejected.

"Har. Is everything okay?" I was barely talking above a whisper. Nervous that if I spoke too loud he wouldn't express how he was feeling to me.

I heard a sigh and then some rustling in the background, like he was moving around on his bed. "Jus' had a pretty rough argument with Rachel. Kinda need a friend to hang with to get my mind off of it. Plus I jus' miss yah. Haven't seen yah in forever, bubs."

I couldn't help but perk up at the nickname despite the sourness I felt at him mentioning his girlfriend. It wasn't like I wasn't happy for him. Rachel seemed like she was a nice enough girl. She just so happened to be dating the person i've been secretly and ridiculously in love with since I met him a year ago at university.

"Sorry to hear that, Harry. Do you wanna talk about it?" I wanted to be a good friend and offer my advice if I could, but mostly I just wanted to hear him talk more. His voice was a sickly sweet song that my heart almost always craved to hear.

"Nah, really jus' wanna pick yah up and head somewhere for a while. That okay?" I could hear him already getting up from wherever he was sitting and gathering his things. The tell tale clink of his car keys a reminder that I needed to get dressed and at least a little presentable.

Picking at a loose string on the hem of my worn out t-shirt, I sighed and replied a little slowly. "Yeah, 'course it's okay. Just text me when you're here. Drive safe, alright?"

He let out a soft chuckle before breathing out a short reply of "Always do." and hanging up.

When all I heard was silence on the other end, I threw my phone to the side and got up to head to the mirror hanging across from my bed. Examining myself, I figured I didn't want to try too hard or he'd know something was up. I threw a black knit sweater over my shoulders and replaced my sweatpants with a pair of leggings, tugging my hair back into a loose ponytail on top of my head.

After another fifteen minutes filled with me brushing my teeth and washing my face, I felt my phone go off in the pocket of my sweater. I pulled it out and saw that Harry had messaged to let me know he was in my driveway. Grabbing my purse, I headed toward the door to give myself one last look in the mirror before opening it and locking it behind me.

When I turned to see him sitting in his idling car, my breath caught in my throat and my heart skipped a literal beat. Like, an actual hitch in my heartbeat. The light from his phone flashing across his dazzling eyes in the darkness of his car made him look angelic. There was a small crease in his brow and his lips were slightly downturned, and yet he was still magnetic. It never got easier to look at him.

As soon as I reached for the door handle of the passenger seat, I heard a click and the sounds of laughter from inside. My hand reacted before my mind could catch on and when I attempted to pull the door open, I was met with resistance. Of course he had locked it.

"C'mon Har, not funny. Open up." My plea went unanswered, though. His smirk the only acknowledgment I received.

I put on my best pleading face, pouting with my bottom lip jutted out above my top and my eyebrows scrunching together in playful sadness.

"Pleeeeeease open the door, Harry?" I clasped my hands together in front of me and gave him the biggest doe eyes I could muster before I heard another click.

Taking the opportunity before he could change his mind, I yanked the door open a little too harshly and threw myself into the seat with a grin.

"Knew you couldn't say no to me. You never can." I muttered before placing my bag by my feet and strapping myself into the car.

When I looked up at him across from me, he was staring at me with a strange look I'd never seen on his face before. It looked like he was deep in thought but also like he was in pain. I wasn't sure what to say so I just slapped my hands down against my thighs and let out a deep sigh before speaking.

"So! Where to, Mr. Styles?"

Still looking at me, he shook his head in confusion as if he forgot where he was. Once he collected himself, he plugged his phone into the aux, handing it to me with a nod to pick some music.

"Figured we could jus' see where the night takes us, love. Hang out for a while. That still alrigh' with yah?"

He seemed almost nervous when he spoke, which was an unrecognizable emotion on him. He was always so sure of himself. He carried himself with confidence and a bit of cockiness to be honest, but not in an overwhelming way. He was just aware of himself and his affect on others. All I could do was stare at the side of his face that now was looking out at the road ahead of him. His jaw was clenched and his grip on the wheel looked like it could break it if he really tried hard enough.

"Of course that's okay, Har. Why wouldn't it be?" I questioned.

He exhaled a breath before letting one of his arms bend and fold onto the center console to rest between us, his hand dangling slightly off of the edge.

He turned to look at me and then quickly whipped his eyes back toward the road before muttering out "Jus' didn't wanna waste your friday night s'all. Know you could be doing somethin' a little bit more fun, ya know?"

I was quick to shake my head and grab at his free hand, bringing it onto my lap to hold in-between my own.

"Where is this coming from, Harry? You know I don't care what we do. I just like spending time with you."

He looked down at where our hands were joined, my fingers absentmindedly twisting one of his rings while I stared at the perplexed expression gracing his beautiful features. He's never acted like this with me. Every time we hang out, it's filled with his newly acquired joke of the day and an eventual headache from how hard he makes me laugh. Tonight though, he was so closed off. It was starting to worry me.

Just as he's about to speak, he suddenly freezes and breathes out a laugh so small I think I imagine it.

He brings his hand that's still connected with mine up toward the screen on his dash and points to the song that had just started playing, before letting it fall back into my lap.

"This song was playin' the first time we met, ya know." He looks over at me expectantly. I look at the screen and then back at his face, a smile gracing my lips.

"There's no way you remember the song that was playing, Harry." I reply dryly with a laugh of my own before continuing my assault on his ring. I loved playing with them, and he knew it. He would act like it bothered him. Tried to feign offense at how cold my hands always were against his intensely feverish skin, but we both knew he enjoyed it as much as I did.

He scoffed. A look of annoyance dancing around his emerald eyes as he took his hand from mine to point a finger at me.

"I absolutely do! Got a mind like a whip, I'll 'ave you know." He swiveled his head back toward the windshield, putting his hand back on the wheel. "I remember everything when it comes to you, love" He uttered in a hushed tone. Like he was afraid of even saying the words.

My mouth hung open the smallest bit before I could stop it. Sure, Harry was affectionate with me. A little more than was friendly sometimes, but never so outwardly sweet with his words. He was more of a cuddle and hug type of friend. Even an occasional kiss on the forehead if I was lucky and he was tired enough.

I reached out to him and grabbed his hand once again, rubbing my thumb in circles against his heated skin.

I wanted to tell him I loved him. Wanted nothing more than to grab his face and kiss him, let him know just how much I adored him. But I was scared and he was in a relationship. So all I could muster the confidence to say was "That's really sweet, Har."

He sighed and gave me a lopsided grin while muttering out "Yup, tha's me. Sweet ol' Harry."

I could tell he wanted to say something else by the tone of his voice, but didn't want to push it. Instead deciding to point out all of the constellations I knew by heart out of the window.

Harry did his best to follow along and listen intently, but with his eyes needing to focus on driving, he was more so just nodding along to make me happy.

In the middle of my explanation about how older stars start to turn red as they run out of hydrogen to burn, I notice the car slowing down to a stop against a patch of grass on the side of the road.

"Wait why are we stopping? Everything okay?" I question with concern laced in my voice.

Harry puts the car in park, unbuckles himself, and immediately turns his whole body to face mine. His hand is still enclosed in my own, so he takes it back and places it against his thigh before running his other through his already messy hair.

Sighing deeply, he lifts his eyes to mine and opens his mouth to speak but doesn't actually say anything.

"Harry, you're kind of scaring me. Please tell me what's wrong. You can talk to me" I start to reach my hand out to stroke his arm but he holds up his own to stop me and I physically feel my heart stop for a second.

"Did I- did I do something?" My voice comes out so small I don't even recognize it.

He scoffs for the second time since I got into the car. The hand on his thigh joining his other in the mess of curls on top of his head, pulling at the roots before dropping them into his lap and staring at me once more.

"'Course not, bubs. I did."

"I don't. I don't understand. I-" Is all I'm able to get past my lips before he's rushing out words so fast it's hard to keep up.

"I broke up with Rachel. Well, she technically broke up with me. Said somethin' 'bout how she can't be with someone who isn't able to commit." He was getting flushed from how upset he was. I could see it even in the dark. A splotchy patch of red was making it's way up his neck and I wanted to reach out and hug him. Comfort him. But he wasn't finished, so I sat on my hands to control myself and let him talk.

"Thought it was a load'a bullshit at first but she said somethin' that really stuck with me, and I can't seem to stop thinkin' 'bout it." He narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing.

"Need yah to help me figure somethin' out. Promise I won't be mad if yah don't wanna. Just need'a try. Jus' once." He was whispering. His usual boisterous and lively energy was nowhere to be found. He was looking at me with such a serious expression on his face that it made me shrink back a little and avert my gaze to the side of the dashboard to compose myself.

When I chanced a glance back toward him, his face was so close it made me gasp and jump back.

"What are-"

I couldn't even finish my sentence. He was inching closer and closer, my breathing getting more shallow with every second that ticked by.

"Tell me to stop. Push me away if yah don' wanna do this. I won't be mad, bubs. I promise." His angelic voice was so quiet I had to will my heart to stop beating so violently against my ears so that I could hear him properly.

I exhaled the breath I was holding, but couldn't find it in myself to move. I'd thought of this moment every single day for a year, and it was finally happening. I wanted this more than anything, the anticipation was making my chest ache in such an intense way that all I could think to say back was "No."

Harry stilled immediately. His face scrunched up in hurt as he started to move himself back into his seat. Before he could get too far, I yanked a hand out from under myself and used it to pull him back toward me by his chin.

When I saw the confused expression on his face, I realized what I had said and tried to explain the best that I could with my brain suddenly a pile of goo from inhaling his musky scent just seconds before.

"I meant. No. I don't want you to stop. I just-" I sighed heavily and shook my head while closing my eyes briefly to control my fluttering eyelashes.

Opening them, I was met with his own that were now wet with substantial emotion, making the green of them so vibrant it made me lose my breath for a second.

"I want-" another sigh. "I want you to kiss me."

He audibly gulped, his adams apple bobbing up and down as he stared at my lips. "Yah sure?" he probed with a glance up at my eyes.

"I'm sure, Harry." My head was now the one leaning toward his own. The hand that was placed on his chin moving to the back of his head to pull him in closer. My eyes closing once again as I felt his top lip brush against my bottom one so softly it almost felt like I imagined it.

Just the smallest touch from him and I was already buzzing. My stomach tied up in knots and the butterflies in my ribcage fluttering like crazy. My blood was boiling. I felt cold and way too hot all at once.

I heard his light gasp before I felt his plush lips press against mine with a little more pressure and confidence. He slowly slid his hand onto my cheek, taking his time to explore this new sensation. I kiss him back lazily, reveling in the softness of him. We exchange a few more pert kisses before it suddenly becomes more heated, the atmosphere shifting from tentative and cautious to more concrete in its intensity.

He grips onto my shoulder for purchase, bringing me even closer to his chest. He kisses me harshly, each kiss he breaks is released with a soft, smacking sound that grows sharper each time. I move my hands to fist the soft material of his shirt behind his back, my brow creasing in pleasure while I sigh into his mouth. He swallows every noise I make, groaning out a few of his own before a breathy whimper escapes my mouth as his tongue slides along my bottom lip.

When he hears the noise this time, he breaks apart from me and moves his forehead onto my shoulder, our collective breathing heavy and loud in the quiet of the car. My lips tingle, already missing the fullness of his against them.

"Wasn't expectin' tha'." He pants into the skin of my neck, gently holding onto my arms. "Guess Rachel was right after all."

"About what?" I ask, trying and failing to catch my breath.

He lifts his head slightly away from my body to look into my eyes as he softly says "I really am in love with my best friend."

At his confession, my breath gets caught in my throat and my lungs shrivel up. My eyes suddenly get weepy and I'm unable to stop the stray tear that falls onto my cheek. Harry takes his thumb and swipes it away before asking me what's wrong with gentle eyes.

"Just never thought you'd feel the same way." I whisper.

He gasps, smiling so bright and large that his dimples become a deep pool inside of his cheeks. "C'mere" he wheezes out before crashing his lips back against mine. His teeth clash against mine a bit from how much he's grinning, but it doesn't matter. It's still without a doubt the best kiss I've ever had.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry #styles #harry styles fic rec #hs #fanfic #hs fic #writing

[jjmaybanksblog]

Heather pt 2.

Word count- 1,449 words

Warnings: none

Y/n/n your Nick name

Y/b/s your birth stone

Y/l/n your last name

Tagged: @butterfliesinthenightsky @emerald-xcd

3 weeks after JJ and Heather became a 'thing' you fought with yourself, trying to figure out if you should just avoid JJ or just be around him and act like everything is fine.

At first, you avoided him. Your dodged his texts and calls, you picked up extra shifts at The Wreck, even said your mother needed your help to redecorate your house. Of course there were times where you had no other choice than to see him. Tonight was Christmas Eve, which sadly was one of those nights.

The group decided to throw a holiday 'party' inside of the Chateau to celebrate Christmas. Kie thought it would be a good idea to have a Secret Santa, despise everybody else's protests. You picked a name out of a hat, glad that you were given John B.

After everyone was given a week to pick out a gift for their person. You had gotten John B a necklace with a silver seaboard. You also went on an aquarium website and adopted a sea turtle for him, named it Crush and printed out an adoption certificate.

Everyone gathered around in a circle on the living room floor. You took your spot next to Kie and Pope, holding back an eye roll as JJ and Heather sat in front of you. You couldn't help but notice how he didnt have an arm around her like usual. Pope wrapped his arm around your shoulder, "let me know if you need to leave." He whispered in your ear, knowing everything that went down after that night.

JJ shot a weird look at him, eyeing just how close he pulled you towards him. "Thank you." You smiled at him, thankful to have these amazing friends who cared about you.

"Alright! Let's get started, anyone wanna go first?" Kie clapped her hands together.

John b had Kie, he had gotten her a temporary tattoo of ocean designs for her. Kie had Heather, who made the girl a puka shell necklace. Following the circle, Heather had Pope who got him a $250 gift card to Barnes and Nobles. Pope had JJ, he got him a customized rolling tray for his weed, along with a matching grinder.

It was finally your turn. You grabbed the envelope behind your back and handed it to John B, his smile growing wider. "What'd you get me y/n/n?" He asked, ripping the envelope open.

The necklace dropped into his lap, he picked it up as his mouth formed an 'O' shape. "Y/n this is beautiful oh my god." He moved his head as he put the piece of jewelry on, his fingers fiddling with the charm.

"Look at the paper." You grinned, pulling your knees up to your chest. He quickly unwrapped the paper, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head. "You got me a sea turtle?!" He shouted, everyone reaching forward to read the paper.

"Technically adopted it! But his name is Crush, and if you visit the aquarium with that certificate you can swim around with him." You grinned brightly, giggling as John B tackled you in a hug.

"I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you." He mumbled, finally releasing you. JJ watched your smile grow as you hugged John B, his jaw slightly clenching.

"John B you almost suffocated her." Kie laughed, pointing out the red mark on her neck. "Oh holy shit I'm sorry!"

The laughter died down as JJ held out a small present in front of you. Your eyes refused to look at him as you shyly took the gift from his hand. Unwrapping it, it reveled a long, black velvet box. Your hands shook as you opened it to reveal a beautiful necklace with y/b/s as a charm.

"JJ..." you trailed off, your mouth falling open. Your fingers skimmed the chain, only imagining how much this cost him. You looked up at him, tears stinging your eyes. "It's beautiful JJ. Thank you." You grinned, clipping the chain around your neck.

You never realized but Heather got up at some point, only to come up with a tray full of hot coco for everyone. You thanked her, taking a sip of the hot liquid. Everyone broke away from the circle. Lifting your head up from the mug, JJ laughed at you. "What?" You questioned.

"You got a little bit of a whip cream mustache," JJ pointed out with his index finger, "here." JJ leaned forward, holding your chin with his index finger, he ran his thumb across your top lip. "There you go..." he trailed off, noticing how close you two were.

Your eyes flickered down to the soft grin that was on his lips. It took everything in you not to lean forward and kiss him right there. You took a deep breath, leaning back and thanking him. You jumped up from your spot and quickly left him alone, missing him mumble a "you're welcome."

Moments went by until you ran to the window to see small snowflakes scattering through the air. You quickly ran out into the backyard, huddling yourself into your sweater. Tilting your head up, you stuck your tongue out.

You giggled to yourself as you caught stray snowflakes on your tongue. "The last time I saw you like that it was 5th grade. We were on the playground during recess and while you were eating snowflakes, I was on the slide that had ice on it. I flew down it and accidentally tackled you to the ground." JJ's voice spoke up from behind you, his voice spooking you.

"You sent me to the nurse with a bloody nose and you with a cut on your head." You chuckled at the memory.

He sat himself on the stairs, patting the spot next to him. You hesitated for a moment before joining him, watching the ground slowly get covered by the snow.

You two sat in silence for a moment before he broke it, "Heather and I broke up." You nearly choked on air at his words. "Oh... I'm sorry." You apologized. You knew in your heart that there was a feeling of relief, however you knew JJ was never one for dating so this must have been serious for him.

"I'm not." He admitted, holding his hands out as the snow melted once it touched his warm skin. "Why? I-I mean only if you're comfortable talking about it, it's none of my buisness." You rambled, picking at the ends of your sleeve.

"Because she's not you."

Your head snapped towards him, furrowing your eyebrows. "What?"

"I mean yeah, she was a great girl. But I hated you avoiding me. I hated not talking with you every night. I hated how if I joked about something she didn't like she would get all uppity about it. I mean she said whatever and that we'd still be friends but I know for a fact she's gonna ignore me after tonight. She doesn't have her own opinion, if I say something she'll agree with it. But with you, it's always a challenge. If I call you a rude name you call me one that's worse. Hell, remember when we argued for 3 days straight about if curly fries were better than smiley face fries." Now JJ was the one spewing out words, remembering all the memories they've made.

"And back in middle school when we had to do a debate on global warming, you killed me in it. You have a voice and you're not afraid to use it. And God, this is gonna sound like a shitty romance movie, but when I tell you I think you're the most beautiful girl in the world, I mean it. It killed me to see you hate yourself-" in a swift movement you cupped the side of his face and connected your lips.

He reached his hand over and held  on tightly to your waist. He grinned into the passionate kiss, his heartbeat loud enough for her to hear it. You pulled back, resting your forehead on his.

"You should definitely cut me off more often." He mumbled, his lips softly brushing yours as he spoke. "Will do." You rubbed your lips together, JJ wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

His eyes fell down to the necklace you wore, "I'm really glad you like that." He said, his fingers skimming your neck. "JJ, how much did this cost you?" You questioned, resting your head on his shoulder, enjoying the warmth from his body that you've been so desperately missing.

"I saved up for about 2 years. Total cost was about $400." Your jaw dropped.

"JJ Maybank you spent $400 on me?" You asked in disbelief.

"And it was worth every penny." He looked down at you and grinned. Pulling out his phone, he checked the clock to read '12:27 a.m.'

"Merry Christmas y/l/n." He pressed his lips to your forehead.

"Merry Christmas Maybank."

#jj obx #rudy pankow #sarah cameron #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank smut #pope heyward #outer banks #kiara carrera #john b routledge #jj outer banks #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow imagine #rudy pankow x reader #john booker routledge #john b imagine #john b obx

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXXIV (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I’m really anxious about this one -Danny

Words: 4,934

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Twenty-Two: Sickness.

"You're right," Erick sat on the couch next to her. "Emily and Sirius are undeniably together."

"But they're hiding something," Mel pointed with the rubber wand she was holding. "Every time I hint I want to know more about their relationship, they panic—"

"So that's where you learned it from?" Fred smirked.

Mel slapped the back of his head and he moved away from between her knees, facing his brother from the other side of the rug instead.

Things had gone swiftly after Erick's rescue. Sirius was in a jolly mood on the daily, surrounded by good company and decorating the house with everyone's help. Mel would spend most of her days with the twins and Flint, who surprisingly seemed to have taken a liking to Fred and George, or maybe it was that Ron and Harry kept on treating him like he was Malfoy's long lost cousin.

Erick's attitude towards her did change a bit after the first night. She'd expected him to keep on teasing her and acting as if she were a little girl. However, he would follow her around the house like a very polite shadow, and he was usually eager to be of use for her.

Maybe it was his way of showing how grateful he was about being there, and Mel could tell the twins wanted to tease him, but given the recent misfortune the boy had gone through they were keeping everything to themselves.

Either way, after a few awkward mornings in which Mel had attempted to catch her mother and Sirius off guard only to get really vague answers or watch them walk away from the conversation, she decided to involve the boys. After all, if there was a group of people who were experts at finding out secrets, it was this trio.

"You know," Erick sighed as he picked up a book he'd been reading, "maybe you should tell them you're okay with it and let them do the rest of the talking if they want..."

"They already know I'm okay with it," Mel huffed. "I don't know why are they acting so weird now, it's like they think I'll murder them if I catch them snogging..."

"Maybe you should tell them you and Fred are dating," The Slytherin replied with a smirk. "See if you get a reaction out of them."

"You know what, maybe I will," Mel said resolutely. "I'll do it right now, while everyone's scattered around the house..."

"I was joking," Erick's smile evaporated and he added in a whisper. "Don't do that! You're not even dating for real!"

"Well no, but no one apart from you knows that!" She replied quietly. "It might catch them off guard..."

"I'll never understand why you take his advice right away but when it's me you refuse to listen," Fred grumbled.

"Because your advice is always to 'let things be' or 'maybe a few kisses will make you forget it'," Mel frowned. "Your advice sucks."

"You didn't think I was so terrible the other nigh—"

"I swear on my Grandad's grave," Erick warned him. "If you finish that sentence I'll leave George twinless."

"Sorry," Fred turned back to his game of exploding snap, "forgot we have to watch our mouth now that you're around, grandpa..."

Erick threw a cushion at Fred, but he was looking livelier than ever before. From time to time, he would loosen up and act like an actual teenager, which looked quite nice on him. Mel could feel him healing , and the best part was that she could feel herself healing too.

She knew everyone was keeping Harry at a proper distance from her as well, her friends had listened to their argument, but the funny thing was that if anyone would've tried to ask her about Harry now, she would've answered with no hesitation.

Telling Erick was liberating, especially after her last fight with Harry where she realized that -unfortunate, but expected- her feelings for him had diminished to the point where they were nothing but a memory.

She didn't hate him anymore, didn't resent him either. That helped both of them coexist in the same house without imploding. Harry was treating her like a real person and not a damsel he needed to save, and Mel was finally able to talk to him without being afraid of hurting his feelings. She could be honest because she didn't have anything to lose by doing so.

Mel walked through the house when she heard Sirius arguing with her mother in the kitchen. Curious to know what was the fight about, Mel sneaked in as silently as she could, and she hid behind the railing so the adults couldn't see her in the dim light.

"I'm telling you it's nothing!" Emily was saying. "It's normal, the first few months the nausea is always like that, you're losing your mind over nonsense!"

Mel's stomach dropped. Nausea?

"It's been a hard couple of weeks," Sirius replied, "I shouldn't have let you leave the house after Fred and George said they'd go get Erick, you're in no condition—"

"I will ask you," Emily said impatiently, "to stop talking about me like I'm dying. Don't be ridiculous, I've gone through it before, I know my limits!"

Her mum! It was her mum the one who was sick!

It was enough they'd hidden her uncle's sickness from her all those years ago, it was not going to happen again.

"What's wrong with my mum?"

Sirius and Emily stopped their bickering, both adults turning to see the girl with wide eyes.

"Mel..."  

"Nothing's wrong with your mum, little Em," Sirius was quick to reply. "We were just... we were..."

"Don't lie to me," Mel frowned. "I heard you, you said my mum was sick..."

"No, love, you misunderstood–"

"We were talking about your mother's morning sickness," Sirius said pointedly.

Emily hit the man's arm, but Mel didn't react.

"What's that?"

Sirius looked positively confused.

"What do you... you don't know?" He looked at the woman next to him and whispered something. Emily turned bright red.

"Of course she knows how babies are born, Sirius!"

"Then why is she—"

"Because we never went into those specific details," Emily replied. "Fine! I've avoided this conversation long enough, and you're bound to found out in the end. Sit down, Mel."

Mel obeyed.

"Well..." Her mother started. "I guess by now you're aware that Sirius and I..."

"Yes, much like everyone else in this house," Mel pushed it aside. "What does that have to do with your sickness?"

"Because my sickness," Emily's voice faltered. "My... er..."

"Morning sickness is a symptom, Mel," Sirius continued. "But it doesn't come from a disease."

Mel's frown deepened. "What is it, then?"

"I'm pregnant."

"What?" The girl blinked. "How— Are you sure?"

"Yes," Sirius scratched the back of his head. "For the last two months..."

"TWO MONTHS?" Mel stood up, her hands going up to cover her mouth. The rest of the sentence came out muffled. "You've been pregnant for two months?!"

"Don't be vexed," Emily winced. "I tried to send a letter, but it felt like such a cold way to let you know... then you came home but trouble just kept coming..."

"That's the reason you were fighting when we arrived!" Mel said in realization. "You didn't want my mum to hurt herself!"

"Which is stupid, really," Emily huffed, glaring at the man standing behind her. "I'm not that far yet, I can do stuff."

"Oh my god," Mel covered her mouth again. "The baby's yours!" She exclaimed, pointing to Sirius.

The man cackled in that barking laughter of his.

"Yeah, the baby's mine too."

Mel let out a short squeal.

"I'm going to have a sibling!"

"You're not angry?" Emily asked.

"Angry?" Mel frowned, a smile still playing on her lips. "Why would I be angry about having a family?"

"I told you she would understand, Mily," Sirius said proudly.

"I'm so happy!" Mel beamed, pulling in both adults for a hug.

"That's great," Emily chuckled nervously. "You can't tell the others though, we're waiting..."

"Waiting for what?"

"We want to give the news during Christmas," Sirius said, completely elated. "It just seems like the right moment to do it."

On Christmas morning the girl woke up to the usual pile of gifts at the foot of her bed, but for the first time, she ignored them and walked out of her room, already looking for her mother.

Fred and George stopped her at the top of the stairs and shook their heads grimly.

"Don't go in, Lady. Mum's just gotten Percy's jumper. He didn't even try to ask about dad."

"Go back to bed," George shook his head. "Trust us."

"Oh," Mel frowned. "Okay..."

She returned to her bed and grabbed the first present. It was from Lupin, a book on defense against the dark arts and another of magizoology, both with beautiful front covers and illustrations.

The second was from Hermione's, a quill that was magically fixed so its users couldn't make mistakes. Mr and Mrs Weasley gave her a new jumper -a nice cream colour with an 'M' in the middle- the first she was getting with her initial, and as she moved through the pile she realized three people were missing: Her mother, Sirius, and Harry.

The last one was not a surprise, but she wondered why her mother hadn't given her a present that year.

'Maybe the baby is my present,' she thought with excitement.

When she left her room, she ran into Erick.

"Merry Christmas!" She said happily.

"Merry Christmas," He yawned. "Hey... can you believe I got presents?"

"Well, yeah," Mel grinned. "What were you expecting?"

"Joseph and Gran were the only ones to give me things apart from my family," He said, still a bit unused to his situation. "But here I got presents from everyone and they don't even know me..."

"Did you like mine?" She looked down for a moment and gasped. "Is that... is that a Weasley sweater?"

Erick stared down at the emerald green fabric and smiled.

"Yeah, look," He pointed to the snake in the middle. "Slytherin themed and all... it was nice of them."

"That's so sweet," Mel beamed. "What else did you got?"

"A few sweets from Fred and George— don't worry, normal sweets, not their creations... a planner from Hermione, which I think will be very useful, if I'm honest... Lupin gave me a book on muggle history that looks really interesting— Oh, your Mum gave me this er... disk-man?"

"Discman," Mel laughed. "Those are for muggle music, I believe you'll like it a lot..."

"Hang on," Erick eyed her up, finally noticing her outfit. "Is that— wow— is that your sweater?"

"Yeah," She looked down. "Why?"

Erick's smiled widened.

"You'll love this..." He walked to the twins' room and looked inside. "Oi! Fred! Come here..."

He walked back to her with Fred beside him, when Mel noticed his sweater, she gasped.

"No!"

Fred's jumper was cream-coloured as well, with an F in the middle.

"What colour does George have?" Mel asked in worry.

"Blue," Fred made a face. "Oh no..."

"Did you tell your mother?" She asked hurriedly. "Frederick, did you tell your—?"

"Of course not!"

"It may have slipped from my mouth," George walked out of his room looking amused and just a little guilty. "I didn't think she would do something like this, though... I asked her not to tell..."

"Bloody brilliant," Mel groaned, flushed and embarrassed.

"Well, this surely will be a surprise for your mother," Erick said casually, walking towards the stairs. "Let's go have breakfast..."

After lunch, the kids, Moody, Mrs Weasley, Emily, and Lupin got ready to visit Mr Weasley back in St. Mungo's. Erick joined, he was eager to see what kind of things the healers had to deal with on the daily.

As they left Sirius with Tonks, Mel realized it'd been a while since she'd seen Kreacher. Actually, she hadn't seen him since the first day of their break. When she mentioned this to the girls, Ginny's expression darkened.

"We said the same to Sirius. You know how he told Kreacher 'out' when we arrived, and we didn't see him afterwards... well, Sirius doesn't mind, but we think that maybe..."

"Maybe he went out-out?" Mel glared. "I mean... he could if he wanted to..."

"That's what Harry said," Hermione sighed. "But maybe Sirius is right and Kreacher is just hidden somewhere in the house, with all the noise he's probably disoriented..."

Mel pushed away the uneasy feeling as soon as they got to the hospital. There were a few people there looking angry, apparently victims of some nasty family arguments. Erick stared at the poor witch in front of them and drowned a chuckle.

"I would love to stick a walnut up my father's—"

"You're going to love our dad, Erick!" George tackled him and pulled him in for a rough hug. Even though they were roughly the same height, Erick was thinner and easier to move around than the twins. "He's crazy about muggles!"

"I'm not crazy about muggles," Erick protested. "I just find them interesting..."

"Same thing," Fred put an arm around her shoulders. "You'll love what dad's got to say about that Discman you got..."

"Watch your hands, boy," Emily warned him as she walked past. "You better keep them where I can see..."

"Mum!"

"Don't worry,  Em, you know I'm a proper gentleman," Fred grinned, pulling Mel closer. "At least in public I am— Ouch!"

"Don't be a pig, Weasley..." Erick replied walking away so Fred couldn't hit him back.

When they arrived at Mr Weasley's room, he was looking livelier and was finally gaining colour. He was propped up on the pillow and received Erick like he'd known him for years. Mel suspected that Mrs Weasley had told him about Erick's liking for the muggle world since he was incredibly eager to start talking about it.

Once Erick's interrogation was finally over -the poor boy was extremely anxious about all the attention he was getting from the Weasleys- Mr Weasley finally addressed his wife.

"You — er — haven't seen Healer Smethwyck, have you?"

"No," said Mrs Weasley dubiously, "why?"

"Nothing, nothing... Well, everyone had a good day? What did you all get for Christmas? Oh, Harry — this is absolutely wonderful —"

Harry had given the man fuse-wire and screwdrivers. When the man leaned over to shake his hand, Mrs Weasley tensed.

"Arthur— you've had your bandages changed. Why have you had your bandages changed a day early, Arthur? They told me they wouldn't need doing until tomorrow."

"What? No, no — it's nothing — it's — I — Well — now don't get upset, Molly, but Augustus Pye had an idea... He's the Trainee Healer, you know, lovely young chap and very interested in... um... complementary medicine... I mean, some of these old Muggle remedies... well, they're called stitches, Molly, and they work very well on — on Muggle wounds —"

Mel covered her mouth to hide her smirk.

"Oh, Merlin..."

"What?" Ginny looked at her. "What are stitches?"

In the brief second that passed, Lupin managed to move away towards the werewolf's bed, who clearly wasn't having a good day. Bill got up and mumbled something about tea, the twins quickly followed, both with the same knowing grins.

"Do you mean to tell me," Mrs Weasley spoke before they had the chance to run away, "that you have been messing about with Muggle remedies?"

"Not messing about, Molly, dear... It was just — just something Pye and I thought we'd try — only, most unfortunately — well, with these particular kinds of wounds — it doesn't seem to work as well as we'd hoped —"

"Meaning?"

"Well... well, I don't know whether you know what — what stitches are?"

"It sounds as though you've been trying to sew your skin back together," Mrs Weasley said tensely, then let out a rough laugh, "but even you, Arthur, wouldn't be that stupid —"

"I fancy a cup of tea too," Harry stood up abruptly.

The remaining group of teenagers all followed him, by the time they reached the door, Mrs Weasley was screaming:

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THAT'S THE GENERAL IDEA?"

"Typical Dad," said Ginny. "Stitches... I ask you..."

"Well, you know, they do work well on non-magical wounds," said Hermione. "I suppose something in that snake's venom dissolves them or something... I wonder where the tearoom is?"

"Fifth floor," said Harry.

"You mean to tell me," Erick was horrorstruck. "That muggles sew their skin back together?"

"Sometimes," Mel smiled. "Tough people those muggles, aren't they?"

"That's... that's barbaric," He winced. "Merlin..."

"Don't be so whiny," Ron rolled his eyes. "It's not a big deal, is it, guys?"

"Not really," Harry shrugged. "Muggles get stitches all the time. They don't sew the skin just like that, they give you anesthetics so you don't feel pain while they do it..."

They kept talking about muggles remedies until they reached a hall with several portraits trying to diagnose them with oddly specific diseases. They got distracted by one particular stubborn healer that kept insisting Ron had a bad case of spattergroit.

"And what's that supposed to be?" Ron asked in outrage as the healer ran through the portraits to keep up with them.

" 'Tis a most grievous affliction of the skin, young master, that will leave you pockmarked and more gruesome even than you are now —"

"Watch who you're calling gruesome!"

"The only remedy is to take the liver of a toad, bind it tight about your throat, stand naked by the full moon in a barrel of eels' eyes —"

Mel burst into laughter.

"I have not got spattergroit!"

"But the unsightly blemishes upon your visage, young master —"

"They're freckles! Now get back in your own picture and leave me alone!"

Ron turned to look at the others, who were doing a great job keeping straight faces. Mel was failing remarkably though, she kept laughing until they reached the next floor, at this point Ron wasn't even acknowledging her existence.

"What floor's this?"

"I think it's the fifth," said Hermione.

"Nah, it's the fourth," said Harry, "one more —"

He stopped, his eyes fixed on the door ahead of them. Mel looked ahead curiously, the door had a small window and a man was standing there, staring back. Hermione gasped behind her.

"Blimey!" Ron exclaimed.

"Oh my goodness, Professor Lockhart!" Hermione pointed out.

"Don't think he's much of a Professor now," Mel murmured with amusement.

"Well, hello there!" Lockhart walked out of the room. "I expect you'd like my autograph, would you?"

Harry muttered something to Ginny that caused her to laugh, Mel was divided between annoyance at the sight of the man and slight pity. He wasn't as tall as she remembered him, but she'd grown a bit the last three years, so it was understandable.

"Er — how are you, Professor?" said Ron.

"I'm very well indeed, thank you!" said Lockhart, pulling an old peacock-feather quill from his pocket. "Now, how many autographs would you like? I can do joined-up writing now, you know!"

"Brilliant," Mel said, trying not to giggle.

"Er — we don't want any at the moment, thanks," said Ron.

"Professor, should you be wandering around the corridors? Shouldn't you be in a ward?" Harry questioned.

"I insist, I don't think we should call him professor," Mel said.

The man looked at Mel intently, his smiled fading a bit, then he stared at Harry.

"Haven't we met?"

"Er... yeah, we have," said Harry. "You used to teach us at Hogwarts, remember?"

"That was hardly teaching," Mel grumbled, but Erick nudged her side to shut her up.

"Teach?" Lockhart blinked. "Me? Did I?"

His smile came back abruptly.

"Taught you everything you know, I expect, did I? Well, how about those autographs, then? Shall we say a round dozen, you can give them to all your little friends then and nobody will be left out!"

Mel opened her mouth to argue but Hermione gave her a pleading look as if saying 'give him a break', so she took pity.

"Gilderoy, you naughty boy, where have you wandered off to?" A Healer walked out of the room and realized Lockhart wasn't alone. "Oh Gilderoy, you've got visitors! How lovely, and on Christmas Day too! Do you know, he never gets visitors, poor lamb, and I can't think why, he's such a sweetie, aren't you?"

"We're doing autographs!" The man exclaimed. "They want loads of them, won't take no for an answer! I just hope we've got enough photographs!"

"Listen to him," said the Healer. "He was rather well known a few years ago; we very much hope that this liking for giving autographs is a sign that his memory might be coming back a little bit."

Mel shivered, thinking that fewer things were worse than a fully recovered Lockhart trying to scam more people.

"Will you step this way? He's in a closed ward, you know, he must have slipped out while I was bringing in the Christmas presents, the door's usually kept locked... not that he's dangerous! But bit of a danger to himself, bless him... Doesn't know who he is, you see, wanders off and can't remember how to get back... It is nice of you to have come to see him —"

"Er, actually, we were just — er —" Ron gestured vaguely.

Something about Lockhart washed her over with nostalgia, he reminded her of a time when things were simpler, and she felt terribly sad at the confirmation that not even someone as silly as him had come out clean out of their mess. She felt guilty and looked imploringly at the group.

"Just for a bit?" Mel asked softly, following the healer inside.

"Five seconds ago you wanted to hit him and now you want to stay?" Erick frowned.

"I got... sentimental," She admitted. "Felt bad about him, what am I supposed to do?"

"You could've ignored him," Harry offered coldly. "You're getting quite good at that..."

"Let's not stay long," Ron interrupted before Mel could answer, pulling her into the ward.

"This is our long-term resident ward," The healer explained as the group walked in. "For permanent spell damage, you know. Of course, with intensive remedial potions and charms and a bit of luck, we can produce some improvement... Gilderoy does seem to be getting back some sense of himself, and we've seen a real improvement in Mr Bode, he seems to be regaining the power of speech very well, though he isn't speaking any language we recognize yet... Well, I must finish giving out the Christmas presents, I'll leave you all to chat..."

Lockhart immediately started to sign pictures as soon as he sat down, continuing his senseless chatter.

"You can put them in envelopes, I am not forgotten, you know, no, I still receive a very great deal of fan mail... Gladys Gudgeon writes weekly... I just wish I knew why..." He paused, his hand dropping a photo on Ginny's lap absently. Then his smile came back again. "I suspect it is simply my good looks..."

"...And look, Broderick, you've been sent a potted plant and a lovely calendar with a different fancy hippogriff for each month, they'll brighten things up, won't they?" said the Healer, bustling along to the mumbling man, setting a rather ugly plant with long, swaying tentacles on the bedside cabinet and fixing the calendar to the wall with her wand. "And — oh, Mrs Longbottom, are you leaving already?"

[...] A formidable-looking old witch wearing a long green dress, a moth-eaten fox fur, and a pointed hat decorated with what was unmistakably a stuffed vulture and, trailing behind her looking thoroughly depressed — Neville.

Harry locked eyes with her, both of them froze unable to find a way to distract the others, and it was too late anyway, Ron had noticed.

"Neville! It's us, Neville!" He said excitedly. "Have you seen? Lockhart's here! Who've you been visiting?"

"Ron, stop yelling!" Mel scolded him.

"Friends of yours, Neville, dear?" Neville's grandmother asked calmly.

Neville was always quiet, but now he looked like he wanted to be swallowed by the earth.

"Ah, yes... Yes, yes, I know who you are, of course. Neville speaks most highly of you," She said, holding out a hand and shaking Harry's.

"Er — thanks," Harry replied.

"I'm afraid I don't recognize this boy," The old woman said, staring intently at Erick.

"Erick Flint," He said, tentatively reaching out to shake her hand. "I— er... I'm spending Christmas with the Weasleys."

"Flint, huh?" The woman said, her eyes narrowing a little. "Yes, I see that... I'm sorry about Eliot, he was a fine man."

"He was," Erick nodded, awkwardly glancing at Neville.

Neville was too embarrassed to even notice him.

"And you two are clearly Weasleys," Mrs Longbottom said appreciatively. "Yes, I know your parents — not well, of course — but fine people, fine people... and you must be Hermione Granger? Yes, Neville's told me all about you..."

Her eyes landed on Mel and she smiled.

"Most delighted to meet you, Miss Dumbledore," She shook her hand firmly. "Yes, I would recognize that gaze anywhere... have you been told that before? I'm sure you have... that sharp mind of yours, I'm sure it never misses a thing."

Mel smiled tightly, not knowing how to reply.

"You and Miss Granger have helped my grandson out of a few sticky spots, haven't you? He's a good boy, but he hasn't got his father's talent, I'm afraid to say..."

"What? Is that your dad down the end, Neville?" Ron asked in shock.

"What's this?" The woman asked sharply. "Haven't you told your friends about your parents, Neville?"

Neville stared up at the ceiling and shook his head a bit. Mel felt something pressing on her chest, but she still couldn't find the words. She realized that whenever she needed it the most her voice would simply vanish.

"Well, it's nothing to be ashamed of!" Mrs Longbottom exclaimed. "You should be proud, Neville, proud! They didn't give their health and their sanity so their only son would be ashamed of them, you know!"

"I'm not ashamed," said Neville quietly.

Ron was trying to look closer towards Neville's parents, but Mel pulled him down roughly.

"Well, you've got a funny way of showing it! My son and his wife," Mrs Longbottom turned to explain, "were tortured into insanity by You-Know-Who's followers."

Hermione and Ginny covered their mouths in shock. Ron paled and Erick went terribly stiff next to her. Harry and Mel were doing their best to control the situation.

"They were Aurors, you know, and very well respected within the Wizarding community," Mrs Longbottom stared at her. "Your father was a good friend of them, dear girl. Matthew was a fine man. Highly gifted, the three of them. And are you ashamed of your father, girl?"

The question took Mel by surprise.

"No, of course I'm not."

"See, Neville?" Mrs Longbottom said harshly, Mel wished she could've asked the woman not to use her against him. "I — yes, Alice dear, what is it?"

Neville's mother had come edging down the ward in her nightdress. She no longer had the plump, happy-looking face Harry had seen in Moody's old photograph of the original Order of the Phoenix. Her face was thin and worn now, her eyes seemed overlarge, and her hair, which had turned white, was wispy and dead-looking. She did not seem to want to speak, or perhaps she was not able to, but she made timid motions toward Neville, holding something in her outstretched hand.

"Again?" said Mrs Longbottom, sounding slightly weary. "Very well, Alice dear, very well — Neville, take it, whatever it is..."

But Neville had already stretched out his hand, into which his mother dropped an empty Droobles Blowing Gum wrapper.

"Very nice, dear," said Neville's grandmother in a falsely cheery voice, patting his mother on the shoulder.

"Thanks Mum," Neville muttered.

Mel looked down, feeling caged in the situation and desperately wanting to help her friend without being able to. When she looked up Neville had a hard stare on them as if ready to fight them in case they wanted to make any fun comments, but Mel knew none of them was thinking of such thing.

"Well, we'd better get back," Mrs Longbottom. "Very nice to have met you all. Neville, put that wrapper in the bin, she must have given you enough of them to paper your bedroom by now..."

Neville, however, made sure to put the wrapper into his pocket. Once gone, her friends started to speak.

"I never knew," Hermione said with tears in her eyes.

"Nor did I," Ron was looking at the door still, his voice dry.

"Nor me," Ginny said weakly.

Erick said nothing, but he looked as affected as the rest. The group turned in time to Harry and Mel. They shared a grim look, but Mel couldn't speak, so Harry started.

"We did. Dumbledore told us but we promised we wouldn't mention it... that's what Bellatrix Lestrange got sent to Azkaban for, using the Cruciatus Curse on Neville's parents until they lost their minds."

"Bellatrix Lestrange did that? That woman Kreacher's got a photo of in his den?" Hermione asked in shock.

"I think it's time we go back," said Mel, tightly holding onto Ron's arm. "The rest must be looking for us..."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world​ @just-here-to-escape-from-reality​ @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

[lailannajacobs]

What in the Seven Hells is a Junabee? | GIBP III

Pairing: Fey!Loki x fem!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Loki take a trip to the seamstress. 

Warnings: fluff! 

Word Count: 5.3k 

A/N: OKay so I love this chapter for a whole bunch of reasons I won’t get into, but I also know it’s a set up for all the fake dating (and other events) you’ll get in the next chapter (and the rest of the fic) so don’t worry, my fav trope ever is coming!! I hope you enjoy, and as always, it makes my day to hear what your thoughts! <3 

The seamstress was in a beautiful house, which overlooked the river down below. It reminded you of the type of houses in the book of fairy tales you and Nat used to have; tall and spindly, and reminiscent of a pine tree. It was the same luscious green as the surrounding flora and had over a dozen tiny stained-glass windows that glowed like emeralds in the sun. You’d never seen anything like and it, and you couldn’t help but stare a little too long.

Loki knocked on the door and took a step back, hands clasped behind him as you waited. The black, double doors were much bigger than the one at the restaurant, and you were pretty sure that meant a Dwarf wouldn’t be greeting you this time. You couldn’t help but feel a little curious, a lot of dread and somewhat excited to see who would greet you.

A strong, broad shouldered Fey woman opened the door, a cat-like grin spreading across her face as she took in the king. Her chestnut hair was braided back and out of her face, but the rest was loose around her shoulders in tight curls. She was dressed in black from head to toe, pants tucked into knee high boots, paired with an intricate top that looked more like armour. Had you passed this woman on the street you would have assumed she was a warrior and not a seamstress. Even standing before her now, you weren’t sure you were at the right place.

Loki took her hand in his and pressed a kiss to the back of it, an equally wicked smirk on his lips.

“Valkyrie, I’m so glad you could make room for us on such short notice,” he practically purred, “we appreciate it.”

“You were just lucky someone canceled at the last minute,” she said with a wink, “I don’t make exceptions for anyone, least of all you, Loki.”

He let a breathy little laugh, the two of them obviously good friends, if not something more. If there was, it wasn’t like you didn’t get it. She was beautiful. Honestly, they both were.

Her gaze slid toward me and her grin morphed into something a little less playful and much softer, “and you must be the mysterious future queen I’ve heard about,” she dipped her head, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you said through a tight smile.

This was the first time someone other than Loki had mentioned the actual consequences to this deal and you weren’t sure you liked it. Queen… You weren’t meant to be queen. Ever. How in Cerdwen’s were you supposed to be queen? You shoved the thought to the back of your mind. There was no point thinking about it and freaking yourself out more. You just needed to keep pretending like you could actually do this.

Anyways, she was a seamstress, not a council member whose opinion could change everything. You had to assume that Loki must have brought you into the city to practice your act around people who’s opinions didn’t affect your fates, but even if he hadn’t, you were glad for the excuse to learn how to play the role.

“I’ve heard so many great things about your talent, Miss Valkryie,” you lied, settling into the part as best you could, “I can’t imagine having gone to anyone else. It’s just so nice to have finally met you.”

“You’re too kind,” she waved away the compliment, but her eyes narrowed slightly. You held your breath, afraid she could see right through you until she motioned for you to follow her in, “but I do have some pieces I’m sure you’ll like.”

The walls on one side of the hallway were painted navy while the other side was painted a dark green, all trimmed with gold mouldings and decorated with paintings of men and women in extravagant clothes. There were rooms branching off to either sides. The layout of the house was far bigger than you’d assumed from the outside. You couldn’t help but wonder who this woman was exactly. The riches of this home were beyond ordinary…weren’t they? You clenched your jaw in an attempt to hide your anger. If these people had homes like these then they had the means to help any one of the other realms who were still rebuilding. Yet they hid on their island like the rest of us didn’t matter. Odin was a monster, stroking the embers of hatred that sizzled in his realm, mounting them to a burning fire that destroy the seven others. But these people — the Fey — they could do something about it. Instead, they just sat in their riches and their magic, doing nothing. You were thankful neither of them could see your face.

You entered a room that might not have seemed small if it hadn’t been stacked with books from floor to wall on every side except for the one you’d entered through. There was large wooden desk in the corner, cluttered with papers and scraps of fabrics and in the centre, a pedestal with two small poof seats in the opposite corner.

“Remind me again what you’re looking for, Loki,” she motioned for the two of you to take a seat.

You stayed standing keeping an eye on her and door. Loki shrugged and gracefully eased onto the cushion, legs sprawled out in front of his as if he was in his own home. You glanced between the two of them, trying to figure out what exactly their relationship was, but both of their faces were impossible to read. The only thing you knew for sure was that these two had known each other for hundreds of years.

“Other than a few formal gowns, I would suggest you ask Ms. YLN,” his gaze slid over to you, eyes lit up with mischief, “the choice is hers.”

You barely restrained from scoffing. Like you had any choices in the deal.

Valkyrie turned to face you, surprising you with a genuine looking smile on her face, “Come then. I think I’ve got ideas you might like. Do you want your future king to join us?”

Valkyrie probably had no idea that she’d just asked the best question possible. Or maybe, judging by the sly grin on her face, she had. You didn’t know if that immediately made you want to trust her or the exact opposite.

“Actually, I was hoping it could be a surprise,” you chirped, “he really doesn’t need to stay.”

Loki let his head loll back, looking at you through hooded eyes with a slight, knowing grin on his lips, “of course. Enjoy yourselves. I’ll be back soon, sweetheart.”

He stood with efficiency and speed unmatched by most of the other races. When his back was to Valkyrie, he shot you a pointed look. You narrowed your eyes but quickly made sure to smooth out your features before Valkyrie could get wind of what was going on.

When he was out of sight and the door had closed behind him, you felt a shimmer of magic and wondered if Valkyrie felt it too. If she did, she didn’t say anything. You had a feeling that whatever it was, it was a precaution to make sure you wouldn’t sneak off again.

“I see you like to dress to move around,” was the first thing she said.

You couldn’t help but look down at the plain black pants and dirt brown sweater as if you’d forgotten you’d been wearing borrowed clothes all morning.

“I need to be able to move,” you answered gruffly.

She nodded, “I get it. This world hasn’t been easy, especially to humans.”

“And what would you know about the world being unkind?” you snapped, the riches of her home mocking you.

“This realm was at war like every other hundreds of years ago,” her voice was barely louder than a whisper, but there was nothing soft in her voice, “just because we haven’t had it the hardest doesn’t mean we don’t know hardship.”

Something about the haunted look on her face made you feel stupid about your outburst and you cursed yourself again for not being able to keep your emotions in check. Valkyrie barely looked older than you did, but she spoke like she’d lived through the war — seven hells, judging by the way she wore her clothes like armour,  she might have even fought in it. You wanted to ask her about it, but doubted you could get through even an inkling of the conversation with your emotions in check. You weren’t about to expose yourself by asking questions to which you already knew the outcome. Still, it didn’t mean she deserved your judgement.

“I’m sorry,” you maintained eye contact as you spoke, hoping she knew that you meant the words, “you’re right.”

She ignored the apology with a wave of her hand, and you sighed, glad she didn’t seem to think anything was amiss.

“I see why he likes you. That fight in you…it’ll remind him of his,” she continued, almost to herself, “he’s been going through the motions for far too long now.”

You paused, wondering why she was so open, sharing about her king like that until you remembered, that as his future queen, this wouldn’t be inappropriate, especially that she was complimenting you. Still, it was hard to ignore the fact that she thought Loki was only going through the motions. They Fey you’d met looked nothing like that.

“I’m flattered you think so,” you said with a smile, hoping you could rely on pleasantries to get by, “you’ve certainly known him longer than I have.”

“We’ve been,” she paused with a huff and a little shake of her head, “it feels like we’ve known each other for an eternity. I’m glad he’s finally found someone who makes him happy.”

“Well, he makes me happy,” you almost gagged on the words, but the way her smile grew made you think that you’d said the right thing.

Valkyrie lifted her hand and a book high on the shelf flew off and into her hand. You pretended to inspect your nails, trying not to show how much her little display of magic amazed you. It seemed so simple and you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe it was something you’d be able to do if someone took the time to show you.

“I was thinking we’d start with something like this for formalwear,” she pointed to a gown that looked equally gorgeous and terrifying, “and then we move on depending on what you like or don’t like. Yeah?”

You shot her what you hoped was an enthusiastic smile, the moment bittersweet. Nat would have loved sitting here with you, thoughtfully pouring over all the designs and teasing you into trying something outside of your comfort zone. But she wasn’t here. Your hand fluttered to place on your chest where the pendant lay under your shirt. She was being held hostage and you were here. It didn’t matter than you were now in similar situations, yours was so much easier and you couldn’t help but feel guilty about being here. This whole thing seemed frivolous and pointless. The Hand was the only thing keeping you from walking out.

Valkyrie cocked her head to get a better look at you, “you sure?”

“Absolutely,” you picked up the design she’d just shown you, thankful your hands weren’t trembling, “ready as if my life depended on it.”

Loki had reappeared as you were nearing the end of Valkyrie’s many suggestions and had taken a seat in the far corning, looking on in calculated silence. It was hard to focus with him back in the room and you weren’t sure if you should change the way you were behaving around Valkyrie. She’d been so carefree and thoughtful about the dishes she’d had to offer that you’d almost forgotten what you were doing here. She wasn’t the council so you knew you didn’t have to impress her but a part of you still felt like you should remind her that the two of you were in love. Or at least maybe act a little differently?

After glancing over at Loki for what felt like the millionth time, he raised a brow. You glared at him. For someone who was so worried about the two of you being seen together this morning, he wasn’t doing a spectacular job at faking it right now. He shrugged lazily as if to say what do you want me to do and stayed silent.

“I’m glad you told him to go because you clearly can’t take your eyes off of him,” Valkyrie remarked, her eyes fixed on the design she was altering based off of your comments.

You quickly turned back around, thankful that she had read your confusion as romance and impressed that she was so aware of her surroundings. Maybe if people expected to see love, they wouldn’t look so hard to think it wasn’t there. You mentally rolled your eyes. Kidding yourself was a waste of time.

You weren’t sure what to say to her comment, so you stayed silent, pasting on an awkward little smile and hoping it was the right thing to do. She lifted up the modified design and you could only nod, speechless, your smile becoming genuine this time.

“So that covers your daily garments. I do have dresses for…” the words fell from her mouth and she pursed her lips, eyes flickering to the ground before she came back up with a smile. You looked between her and Loki to try and see what you missed, but Loki’s face looked nothing other than bored. She continued quickly before you could get a better read on the situation, “dresses for every day use if you want. Clothes are like armour. Whatever you need, I can get it done.”

There was a seriousness to her voice that made you think that she didn’t just mean that figuratively, but the ominous tone stopped you from asking outright what she meant by it. There was something they weren’t telling you, but you doubted either of them would tell you what it was if you asked.

You jumped at the movement by your side, not having heard Loki get up.

Loki took her hand in his, “thank you, Valkyrie. Truly.”

Her brows furrowed but she smoothed it over quickly with a laugh, “you are paying me, remember?”

“True,” he murmured, shooting her a look you couldn’t decipher.

“Go,” she shooed him away with a laugh, “I’m tired of seeing your face.”

He put a hand on his heart in mock offence, the playful king back as quickly as he’d vanished, “you barely saw me today.”

“And bring you future queen around more often,” she continued as if he didn’t have a point, “I like her.”

He grinned mischievously, “as do I.”

And in that moment, he looked so convincing that you could see why she believed him. Loki didn’t appear to be a stranger to lying, even to someone who he’d apparently known forever. Although it meant that your chances of convincing the council were better off because of it, you didn’t like what that meant for your end of the deal.

“You know, Valkyrie,” he began.

“Don’t bother,” she cut him off with a stern half smile, “I’m good where I am.”

He dipped his head low, “I know…not unless the realms are sinking into the seven hells. I remember.”

She nodded curtly but shot you a wink as if you knew what in Ceridwen’s name they were talking about. You smiled back, your brain already going through the possible things a king could have repeatedly asked a seamstress for. Nothing that made any sense came up and Loki was already waiting in the doorframe, ready to go, so you added it to the ever-growing list of things you didn’t understand but somehow knew were important.

After your goodbyes, you left the house the way you came, heading back up the mountain to the palace.

“The meeting with the council is in a few hours,” he said, that casual joking tone he’d used with Valkyrie gone from his voice, “I suggest you wear something nice.”

“A gown,” you clarified.

He shrugged, “as long as it’s nice.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I wore pants?” you demanded incredulously. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen Nat in anything other than the constricting gowns Odin trapped her in.

“I thought you were gorgeous wearing the tattered clothes you broke into the palace with,” he strolled on without looking at you, “if we didn’t need the council’s approval I wouldn’t have said a thing.”

Stunned, you grabbed his arm and spun him to a stop, wondering what in the seven hells was going on. His lips curled into a wicked grin and he stepped closer, dipping his head so your eyes were practically at level with his glowing ones, “don’t worry, sweatheart,” he crooned, “I’m simply getting a little practice in.”

You grunted and pushed past him, muttering asshole under your breath even though you knew his Fey hearing would catch it. You had a good idea where you were headed so you stomped forward, letting him stroll a few paces behind you. It didn’t matter that he could easily catch up to you if he wanted. The false sense of privacy made you feel better. It gave me the space to breathe.

You took in your surroundings enjoying the streets of Natalos. You stopped your stomping, taking your time getting back, not sure if you’d be stuck in the palace or allowed to roam wherever you wanted. You were hoping the latter, not only because you hated the confines of the palace but because there was a chance the Hand was in the city and you didn’t need the extra obstacle of trying to sneak out.

You weren’t sure if you would be stuck in the palace or if you’d be allowed to wander wherever you wanted. You hoped it was the latter not only because you hated being stuck in the palace but because there was a chance the Hand was in the city and you didn’t need the extra obstacle of trying to sneak out of the palace.

The sun had gotten much stronger, hanging overhead now. The kiss of the heat on your skin felt like it was finally melting away the cold of Niflheim. You sighed, closing your eyes for a fraction of a second as you walked, basking in the feel. You and Nat would feel the sun again. You would escape. You had to.

“Watch out for the fruit,” Loki interrupted your thoughts, much closer than he was before.

“What out for the what?” you echoed, stumbling to the side in surprise and trying to figure out what he was talking about.

His eyes widened and he reached out for you. You backed out of his grasp instinctively,  grabbing onto the nearest tree to keep from tripping over. Then something cracked down on your head and it started pouring rain. Your whole body straightened in shock as the water poured down your face and neck, and down your spine. And then the stench hit you. You gagged. Wiping the liquid from your eyes, you noticed it had a slightly pink hue and was more like goo. Loki was completely dry. It couldn’t be rain. So what was it? He motioned for you to come closer, his lips tight as he tried to suppress a smile.

“What in the seven hells was that?” you practically shouted.

He pointed above, still not saying a word as he tried to keep himself together. The tree was massive and dark blue, sprawling across half the street with its thick branches and fan-like leaves. Hundreds of pink fruit about the size of your head hung precariously, swaying gently in the breeze.

“That’s not an explanation,” you growled, wiping more of the foul goo off you.

He swallowed and pointed to a sign that read, Beware, falling Junabees. This time, you actually looked around. If you hadn’t been so distracted, you probably would have noticed the pink-stained cobblestones littered with Junabee carcasses — that and the blatant warning. You took another step back toward the other side of the street just to be safe and glared at him.

“I wouldn’t walk too close to the edge next time,” he chuckled, though the wide grin on his face told you that he was enjoying this far more than you were.

“Why in Ceridwen’s name would you people keep this here?” you demanded, “it’s disgusting.”

He paused at your reference to the old gods and shrugged, motioning for you to come a little closer. You took a wary step forward, only following his request because you weren’t sure the Junabees were done with their attack. Tentatively, he raised a hand. You flinched back and he paused waiting for your nod. He brushed some of the goo off your cheek with his thumb, the motion slow and gentle. You stood still as a statue, not sure how to react. His eyes were bright and focused, the corner of his mouth quirked upward in the ghost of a smile. All you could do was stare at him, barely breathing.

“They’re surprisingly difficult to grow and the berries can be quite delicious when prepared properly,” he murmured, taking more of the goo out of your hair, “so we let them grow wherever they chose to pop up. No one’s allowed to cut them down.”

The thought of eating one made you gag, “and how do you prepare them?”

His lips pulled into a sly grin, “wine.”

You scoffed and pushed past him, trying to clean out the goo out of your ear on the way. You were tempted to grab a Junabee and throw it at him, but you were too worried that it would burst in your hand if you tried. That wasn’t a risk you were willing to take, even to put him in the same situation as you.

He caught up quickly and kept stealing glances at you that were impossible to ignore.

“What?” you snapped.

“When we walk into the council room, you might want to wipe the murderous look from your face,” he mentioned with a grin, enjoying this far more than he should.

You looked around, trying to find something to take your mind off the fact that you wanted to punch him, “give me what I want, and you won’t have to worry about me meeting your council,” you said through clenched teeth.

A slight chuckle was all you got in response and he led you down a street you didn’t recognize. You couldn’t tell if he was showing you more of the city or making sure that you couldn’t find your way around it. You sighed. This was going to be impossible.

You were dragging your feet when you walked into the palace later that evening, your thighs burning from climbing the steep streets. You couldn’t help but think that all of this would have been easier if you weren’t human. There was nothing you could do about it now, but it didn’t change the fact that you hated it. Though now that you were stuck, all you wanted was a nice dinner and a warm bath, both of which were things you could actually get here and not in Niflheim — that was if you could get through this stupid council meeting or party or whatever it was.

“Valkyrie has already sent over a few options for you,” he said when you came to a stop in front of your door, “I would recommend you wash up before you meet the council. I can’t have them thinking you live in the pig sty.”

Although your heart soared at the idea of warm water, you were far too grumpy to be thankful, “and so what if I showed up like this?”

You tried your hardest not to wince as the pathetic retort came out. You were fed up and sore and not your best on an empty stomach. It probably would have been better to ignore him, but the words were out now.

He smirked, “take a bath or don’t. If you repel the council with your stench, I can’t say that I’ll be disappointed.”

“You know,” you huffed, “the only reason I smell this bad is because you didn’t warn me about the stupid Junabees in the first place.”

“I told you to be careful,” he countered, leaning lazily on the doorframe.

You nodded like he actually had a good point before snorting, “sure. I doubt you could have been any more vague about it if you tried.

He grinned and pulled a little more goo out of your hair.

“Ugh,” you stormed past his still grinning face and into you room.

“I’ll be back in an hour,” he called before you slammed the door in his face.

“We’ll have to make this quick,” Loki said, walking into the kitchen, “I left YN alone to wash up and get changed before the council meeting and told her I’d be back in an hour.”

“So we’ve got forty-five then,” Bucky said with a smirk, propping his feet up on the table.

Loki shook his head, “let’s make it thirty.”

That only made his grin spread even wider, “I see you’ve got your hands full with our future queen.”

“That may be so, but at least she’s not boring,” at Bucky’s raised brow he said, “she discovered the Junabees today.”

“So a solid thirty minutes then,” he chuckled, both of them fully aware of how hard it was to to wash that goo out of hair.

“Let’s get back to business,” Nebula snapped from the head of the table, cutting them off before they could say anything else.

Loki nodded, knowing he’d been putting it off. With his assassin back so soon, it could only mean that there was nothing good to report. He didn’t want to ruin his surprisingly good mood with the same answers Bucky had been coming to him with for the past two moons, but he had to get it done and over with.

“Right. Bucky. You found…” Loki drifted off, unable to ask the question he already knew the answer to.

Bucky shook his head, “nothing. If Hella’s working with someone else, then she’s hiding it extremely well.”

“There someone else,” Nebula affirmed, shooting Bucky a fierce look, “I’m sure of it.”

Bucky turned and gave her his full attention. They said nothing, but Loki knew that the Angel and Dark Elf could practically read each other’s minds. They had only ever told him bits and pieces of what had happened all those years ago before they had found him, but he knew they wouldn’t be sitting in his kitchen if they hadn’t found each other first.

Bucky nodded, “okay. I’ll find whoever it is.”

“And what about that future queen of yours?” Nebula snapped, whirling around to him. From her place at the counter, Wanda looked over her shoulder, but didn’t say anything. Nebula drove on, all business, “who’s she working for? You said she wants the Hand but I don’t believe for a second that a human who knows nothing about magic wants the Hand for herself.”

Loki shrugged, “herself, someone else, it doesn’t matter. Either way, she’s not getting it. The Hand stays locked up, right now more than ever. If anyone else gets their hands on it…”

They shuddered, still haunted from the last time the book had fallen into the wrong hands.

“What did Gamora have to say about it?” Bucky asked, offering Nebula half of his bread roll. She looked at it with hatred, but Bucky shoved it her way until she took it.

“She hasn’t spoken to me since YN’s arrival,” Loki looked over at Wanda, “any luck on that end?”

“I think so,” Wanda slid the potatoes she’d been chopping into the large pot and came their way, “Gamora says that she can’t remember who cursed her but I believe that’s the key to breaking it.”

Loki stared at Wanda, intrigued and a little impressed Wanda could get Gamora to divulge anything personal about herself, “go on.”

“Right, so we haven’t gotten anywhere because we haven’t been able to identify the magic that was used to curse her, correct?”

“It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen” Bucky said, leaning back in his chair to look over at Nebula who shook her head.

Despite all of his training, Loki also had to agree, “it’s beyond anything I’ve ever seen. And the Witches are still being silent, but I doubt that even if they agreed to help, they’d know what it was any more than we did.”

“Right,” Wanda went back to the pot and stirred a few times, thinking, “which is why I doubt any of us can figure out what it is. I think Gamora is the only person who could identify the magic, so what if we knew who cursed her?”

Bucky grinned, “then she would know what kind of magic was used to bind the curse.”

“We don’t actually have that information,” Nebula pointed out gruffly.

“Then we’d need a remembering spell,” Loki suggested, knowing that just because they now had a new theory didn’t mean they were any closer to breaking Gamora’s curse.

Wanda winced and tilted her head from side to side. He sighed. There was no doubt in his mind that he wasn’t going to like what she was about to say next.

“Or we’d need someone to get in her head.”

“No,” Loki answered immediately, “no. She’ll never let me in and trying might kill me. Her power might only be a tenth of what it used to be but that’s still more than I’m willing to bargain with. If I managed to unlock the memory and I’m still in there…”

“Then we’ve fried the king,” Bucky added helpfully.

Loki shot him a looked that earned him a cheeky grin in return.

“Wanda’s option might be the only one,” Nebula countered, glaring at Bucky, “memory spells are hard to come by and even harder to execute effectively — even for Loki.”

“It’ll be her decision,” Wanda affirmed though her voice was no louder than a whisper. They all snapped to attention knowing she was right, “if she thinks it’s safe, then it’s her decision whether to go through with it or not.”

Loki nodded solemnly, “agreed.”

Wanda walked back over to her pot, stirring and humming softly as if they hadn’t been discussing Gamora’s fate, “I’ll keep looking for a spell, but you should talk to Gamora.”

“You don’t want to do it?” Loki asked with a smirk.

She offered him a small smile, “I know you’re going to see her later. The honour is yours.”

“How kind,” he said with a laugh before heading back out to get ready for his meeting with YN and the council.

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x you #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki x y/n #fan fiction #fanfic #fake dating #marvel #marvel au

[draco-and-tom]

Draco- I thought I was so Deserving

Summary- You and Draco were dating, till he died in the battle of hogwarts. It takes you weeks to go and look through his old stuff, and when you do you find several old letters addressed to you, but never owled. You decide to open it and find something that makes you cry.

☆WARNINGS: veryyyyyyy sad, death., depression, lots of crying, (i cried while writing this so you better like it lol)

It had been weeks since you even looked at the manor, which was basically left to you after draco died, due to the fact that his family fled for no apparent reason. You’ve tried to come back…. Really. It’s just the fact that every time you do try you start to cry. Just looking at the house floods your mind with memories of what it was like to be wrapped in his arms. You miss the feeling of his affection. Draco was never big on showing how much he actually loved you in public, sure he would wrap his arm around you if another boy was staring, or give them a death stare when they would check you out, but NEVER did he once whisper in your ear how much he loved you, the way you laughed, the way you cried, the way you would look at him and he knew you loved him just as much as he did you in public. The way he felt about you was personal, not everyone needed to know just how crazy he was about you. He used to tell you how he used to think so highly of himself till he met you. He would say “I always thought I was so deserving till I met someone who took my breath away and made everything okay for everyone.” Everytime you two were alone together he poured his heart into his words and you knew it was true. Draco’s eyes have always shown his true emotion. Happiness, sadness, love……. They showed you everyone. Everytime he would tell you those things you couldn’t form words, and when you could it was always just an “I love you”. Your feelings for him were so much more than an I love you. That’s the thing you regret the most, not telling him how on more than one occasion you cried at how you loved him so much it almost hurt, at the thought of losing him, how it broke your heart just to see him sad. You longed to tell him that you fucked up in every way possible by not telling him everything you loved about him -inside and out- because you knew how often he doubted himself, by not showering him with kisses every time you saw him, by not kissing him that day like it was the last one you’d ever get, because it was. But most of all you fucked up by trying to help the others and leaving him there to fight for himself.You didn’ t get a chance to comfort him or kiss him, or even tell him how much you cared. You didn’t know trying to help one person would risk two people's lives. Because with every day that passes you realize that Draco was your life. He was your happiness, your grief, your confusion. He was what made you who you are, who you were. 

You sob in your car as your mind is flooded with memories of the time you spent together. It hurts to see them, but it hurts worse to ignore them...if only he could be with you, give you one last chance.

You open your car door after you managed to keep yourself from crying. You made your way up the steps of the house and turned the doorknob with a shaky hand. Once you open your lip quivers. You looked at the stairs that led up to his room, making your eyes water. When you both were alone together at the house he seemed so much more care free. He would chase you all the way down the stairs, it was one of your favorite recurring things he did. You were positive there were other rooms up there but they weren't important to you, especially not right now. You blink back your tears as well as you can. You got to the first floor and felt something underneath your shoe. You lift your foot and a pained sound comes from your mouth as you see his ring… just sitting there. Your knees buckled and you sobbed into your hands. After a few minutes you got up, putting his ring on your middle finger since his hands were bigger than yours, and there was no way in hell you were ever losing that ring. Your face was tear stained and flushed. You were positive you looked like a wreck, you know that if Draco saw you he would wonder what the hell happened. He always said you were the most beautiful and happy person he’d ever met. But again, he was your happiness and now that's gone. God you were crazy for him, and how you feel is the proof. You snap out of your thoughts as you walk down the hall to his bedroom. A chill runs down your spine as you place your hand on the door knob. It was always slightly cold in the manor, but you knew it wasn’t that. You were scared to go in. You felt almost as if you touching anything or even stepping a foot in there was going to mess something up, change how he left it. You block your thoughts out as you open the door anyways, the metal on your finger tapping against the cold door knob. You look in and notice everything is still how he liked it, clean and kept. The only difference was that there was a black box sitting on his bed and an envelope laying beside it. Draco’s room had dark brown wooden floors and emerald green walls. On his walls were Quidditch pictures, a light in the shape of a snake, and….pictures of him and you together. You and Draco had been friends since you were 10, so the pictures went farther back than your relationship. There was a picture of him carrying you bridle style, his face buried in your neck as his laughed, making you smile. You watched that picture replay over and over again, just to see him in motion. You sadly smile as you watch him laugh and put his face into the crook of your neck, you kissing his head after he does so softly. A slow tear drips down your cheek as the flash of the camera that took the photo goes off, before you wipe it away quickly. You pick up the photo and place a small kiss onto it, letting a couple more tears escape from your eyes. You grabbed the picture and took it with you over to the bed, and sat down. You wiped your face with the sleeve of your quidditch sweater, hating the stickiness that the now drying tears had made. You looked at the envelope laying on the bed. The ivory color envelope, as well as the box lay against the green, silky sheets that Draco had left on his bed. He told you the reason he liked silk sheets so much was that when he was little he would get really hot in the summer and laying in them would give his body a relieving chill, the sheets were just associated with good memories and comfort especially after the two of you became each other's friends.

 You and Draco had sleepovers, both of you laying under those sheets. You remembered that the first sleepover happened when you were both at the manor during yalls first week at hogwarts. After eating dinner with him, and taking showers you both laid down in his silk sheets that always felt so cool and relaxing. You didn’t notice anything was wrong until you look over at the 11 year old and see him lying stiffly under the blanket and staring at the ceiling. You furrowed your eyebrows and say “something wrong malfoy?” He shakes his head and after a moment of thought says “it's just….w-is it not weird to you that you're going to sleep in here with me?” you tilt your head and ask “Is it weird to you Malfoy?” when he shakes his head “Then why would it be weird to me?”. Draco bites his lip and shrugs “dunno… just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me..”. As soon as he said that you scooted closer to him and wrapped your arms around his body, as if that wasn’t enough to freak him out you slung your leg over his waist as well. You snuggled into Draco’s tense body. “Do I look uncomfy Malfoy?” you asked after you rested your face in the crook of his neck. You could feel the first year release tension in his body and smiled as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you as close to him as possible. Draco felt your smile on his neck and laughed. “Like this do you?” you hummed and said “Honestly dont think ive had anything more enjoyable Malfoy”. You nuzzled closer to his embrace before you heard him say “hey sunshine”as he peppers kisses on you, making your cheeks flush even more, he had never called you that before “could you call me Draco instead? You’ve made me realize that there is a 1% worthy enough to have my name come from their mouth” you chuckled and nodded “I better be worthy Draco”. 

Once you notice the same words repeating in your ear you stop staring at the envelope and decide to read who it's for. 

                                                                           Sunshine ♡ 

You take a deep breath and open the envelope, careful not to cause any damage to something so dear to you. Once you open it the smell of parchment immediately floods your nose. You pull out the paper and unfold it. The parchment was clearly high quality, it seems as though he put a lot of thought into the letter. You do your best to smooth the creases of the paper as you tiredly lay back on the bed and begin to read:

Dear Y/N, You have no idea how many times i've tried to write a letter about all of this, There is a whole box full somewhere, just look. I know I don't seem like the type (and I know you already know this but) God sunshine, you have no idea how much you mean to me. It's just the fact that sometimes i get shy… but I feel like I don't tell you stuff like this often enough. I love your smile… it likes up any room. I know that you don't think I am, but I am extremely jealous of anyone who so much resembles the way I look at you, that loving look. I know I shouldn't be. I mean bloody hell Y/N I'm the one who gets to wrap you in my arms and pepper you with kisses. I just can't help the thought of you ever leaving me, especially if it’s to be with one of those prats. I love you so much Y/N. More than you could ever know. Although all of this rubbish with The Dark Lord is happening you’ve managed to make it actually bearable. God I was so relieved when you believed me when I told you that I didn’t want to. I'm so glad you let me cry into your shoulder that night, I don't do it often but I did need it. You don't know that i could tell, but I knew that you were crying with me… you shake when you cry, I could feel your lip quivering against my cheek as you kissed me and assured me that it was all going to be okay, I believe you Sunshine, I promise i do, You will always be what keeps me going. You're the only person that's even thought about looking through all my smirks and teasing… you're the only one that was able to tell I was broken and the only one to care. You're the one thing about my shit show of a life, but I have one question. How do you love me as much as you do? I believe you do, you can't lie when you look at me like that. Your whole expression softens when you say those three words and look into my eyes. How do you love me when you could have someone that isnt this much of a fucking wreak? I wish you knew how much i care, 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Tell me if you want me to make this a series or a prequel.

#Draco #Draco Malfoy #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfiction #sad #angst #angst fanfic #story #Harry Potter #hogwarts #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter masterlist

[shadowsfascination]

Shadamy Swordland | ch. 5 | Lead the Way!

It was still early and therefore dark on a cold February morning when a caped Shadow and a cloaked Amy silently prowled around the academy grounds. Crossing the main square once again to get to the outskirts of the district, a blanket of fresh snow softly crackled under their shoes. The snow covered the herringbone-laid brick on the streets and the lack of daylight gave the snow a blueish glow. It sure has something enchanting-, Amy though to herself.

Treading lightly in attempt to make as little noise as possible, Amy exhaled in her already cold hands. The warm vapor of her breath felt nice on them for a brief moment, but they quickly grew even colder than before. She always wore gloves, but the her usual ones were thin and she forgot to put on her winter gloves this morning. Even when she’d placed them on the table next to the door, that was.

Shadow wasn’t much affected  by the cold. He’d wrapped his scarf around her neck and provided her one of his sweaters as well before they’d hit the road. It wasn’t hard to captivate his scent like this and it reminded Amy of the time she had had a secret crush on her trainer. Before every training session she used to ‘accidentally’ put her coat over his on the coat rack. It provided her coat with his masculine scent and she would secretly dwell in it afterwards. Back in the days it’d felt bittersweet to her because he wasn’t interested in her and she believed of them to have neither future or potential together.

While walking in silence through the cold morning Amy wondered why they were walking in the first place. Now that she’d learnt about his special ‘chaos’ skills, he didn’t need to hide them any longer- from her that was. Shadow explained to her that using his special skills, like warping, cost a high amount of energy. With the gemstone Shadow liked to refer to as a ‘Chaos emerald’, believed to be far away from South Island, there already was little energy to begin with. The thought of wasting the precious energy for every little thing was to be unheard of to him and so they trothed onwards through the snow.

The pink hedgehog researched every bit of information available about the tale yesterday. With the help of her dear friend Miles she collected a remarkable amount of notes on the subject when she left the library. Amy felt inspired and was eager to start this adventure, especially when the actual hero of the story was involved right here, right now. Still, she felt a little uneasy because she felt like some of her notes were missing. A couple of lines got stuck in her head and she couldn’t remember whether they were something she read or written down. Her mind drifted off and she went through yesterday’s events one more time:

__________________________________________________________

“Plagues, Miles, loosen up!”

'Miles', which was Tails’ his actual name, handed his friend a paper towel to wipe her hands before diving into the historic tales together. According to Amy he took his duty of keeping the books in his library in the best condition possible way too serious. The fox had, uncharacteristic as it was, assertively told her: ‘my library, my rules’.

Amy did as she was asked and grasped a notebook from her bag. In a zealous way she penned down everything that seemed important for their search, making sure the lay-out of her notes looked like a summary for a test. She dug through the pile of books Tails had picked out for her. She chuckled when she saw the many small, coloured pieces of paper sticking out of their pages. She was lucky to have a friend like him, even when there actually was no test to prepare for.

Amy lost herself in the exciting facts she came to know. Tails busied himself with other things like speaking to visitors and organizing the books on the countless shelves. Aqueous sunlight shone through the tall, stained-glass windows, drawing long shadows every time someone passed by. The colours of the glass-paintings broke the light into more subtle beams. After an hour or so, Amy’s eyes grew tired from the pleasant warmth of the sun through the windows, slowing down her pace. She yawned and decided it was time for a break. Tails went out to the kitchen to make them some tea.

Amy wavered through the things she wrote down and contemplated about where to start searching for the gemstone. She fell back in her seat and fixed her gaze on the ceiling and was surprised to find wood-carved illustrations on some of the beams.

The guardians of the jewel are echidnas… she quietly muttered.

Amy walked up to a bookcase and started looking for the letter ‘E’ until she found an informative book about Echidnas. She grabbed the book rushed through its’ pages. A map of their planet, portrayed on the next page showed the various locations of well-known echidna populations throughout the planet. She read out loud:

“‘Echidnas can live anywhere from mountainous peaks to deserts… They are able to cope with extreme weather…’”

Suddenly the door was swung open and a blue tornado-like wind whirled through the library, swirling up loose pieces of paper to spread them all over the place. A thumping of footfalls on the wooden floor accompanied this outburst of chaos before coming to a stop and bumping into the table because ‘it’ reduced its’ speed too late. Amy’s quills were blown into her face and she hurried back to the table. Her notes fluttered around and a well-known blue hedgehog laid clumsily spread across the table; Sonic the Hedgehog.

Sonic was a student like her, training to become a knight within the high order of knights like Shadow. He was Blaze’s student, who was a close friend of hers. It was a shame the cat had so little time to hang out, Amy thought when thinking about her friend. Sonic and Amy got along fine, but didn’t talk that often.

“Whoops… Hi Amy!”

“My notes! Sonic… look at the mess you’ve made!”

She impatiently tapped her foot at him, her hands planted on her sides.

“What are you waiting for? Go help me gather them!”

He jumped up and hastily grasped some notes. Amy collected some as well and snatched the untidy pile of the now crinkled pages out of Sonic’s hands.

___________________________________________________________

Amy swallowed. Either Sonic or Tails could have found her missing pages.

Well, can’t do much about it now, so I gotta let it go.

She shrugged the thought off and stepped forward into much more white than she expected and gasped when ice cold snow dripped into her boots.

“Right on time.”

Rouge waved at the two she could barely believe got together. Shadow’s breastplate reflected the fierce light from the now upcoming sun. Rouge squinted her eyes and covered them with her hands. She was clothed in a thick robe, matching gloves and boots and a purple, turtleneck-like scarf was wrapped around her neck.

“Tone it down, will ya? I’m already not too fond of being out in the sunlight.”

“Tough luck. Now, shall we?”

He pointed to the east from where they were standing, to an entrance of a cave. The females nodded and the three of them footed their way to the foot of the mountain. Leaving the countless fir trees and the snow behind when entering the cave, Rouge couldn’t be more pleased. The climate in the cave was damp and warm, noticeably less cold than the outside air, much to her satisfaction. Amy used an easy sacred art spell to light the torch they brought and she stepped forward to lead the way.

“I’m not complaining or anything, but why are we in this place?”

“The tale says that the stone is guarded by the designated echidna family. Echidnas like to dig.”

Rouge was already halfway through the breath she’d drawn to protest when she sensed something that cut off her opposition. Even though Amy’s starting point was built on a hasty conclusion, she might be right, Rouge thought to herself. Casting a spell under her breath, Rouge attempted to draw out chaos affected spores in the air. They showed her the amount of present chaos energy in her surroundings. Even when there were none to be found yet, Shadow caught on to the increasing activity of her sacred arts.

“Trust me. I’ve done plenty of research and I’ve got a real good feeling about this.”

“It’s a little too early to trust you already, hun.”

“For starters: don’t call me that.”

In the blink of an eye Amy drew her rapier and with a swift, yet threatening move she swung it towards Rouge, forcing her to a stop. The bat blinked before lowering her eyelids. Amy found it hard to name that expression. All she knew was she didn’t care for it. She felt mocked in a way. A grin spread across Shadow’s muzzle, a hint of that mocking expression Rouge had playing his eyes.

“You don’t wanna mess with her, Rouge. Especially when she’s angry.”

“Second: I don’t think you have much of a choice but to trust us.” Amy said.

“Geez! Fine, I’ll drop the nickname if you insist.”

“I do. By the way, I’ve been wondering: how’d you two meet?”

Amy hid her rapier in its’ sheathe again. Shadow and Rouge shared a glance, the flickering light of the torch casting a warm glow on their skin.

“Go ahead, tell her. I couldn’t care less.”

“Rouge used to be a member of the high order of knights. We worked together for a period of time. She was fired though because of a rather unfortunate incident.”

“Hmph! Coward! ‘Unfortunate incident’?! You don’t even dare to call me a thief, do ya?”

“Trust me, when it comes to being blunt, you’re outmatched, but unlike you I don’t enjoy putting someone on the spot and talk trash.”

“Anyway…!”- Rouge snorted, ignored Shadow and increased the volume in her voice. “I endeavoured  to steal some beautiful regal gems, got caught and have been an outcast ever since.”

“Why did you do that?” Amy asked her.

“I was pregnant and in need of money.”

“You had your loan, right? That should’ve been more than enough.” Shadow said in a crude way.

Without anyone being aware of it they had stopped walking. Rouge turned towards Shadow with crossed arms.

“You’re such an oblivious fool, Shadow! No knight in the high order can have kids while serving. They would’ve fired me either way. I was about to become a mother without a job and a roof above my head. Desperate times call for desperate measures! And on top of that: those jewels were absolutely gorgeous! It’s a shame I didn’t get my hands on them.”

Shadow’s ears fell back, gaze fixed on the ground by now. Even when she didn’t see his eyes, she read his shock from his posture.

“You … didn’t know?”

“Correct. The board clearly left out the pregnancy part when they explained your departure. How despicable.”

“That doesn’t surprise me at all. Let’s forget about it already.”

“That’s no way to treat a lady!” Amy hissed.

“I never even noticed you were pregnant at the time.”

“Again: not surprised. The Shadow I knew was never the least bit interested in women or anything even slightly related to romance, sex or intimacy. That sure changed.” Rouge shifted her eyes to Amy, who smiled an awkward smile.

“I told you before: don’t interfere.”

“I’m not. Just saying it as it is.”

“And what’s that?”

“You’re in a relationship, for crying out loud! Believe you me, I’ve never had an interest in you like that. Though I couldn’t help but wonder who on the planet could ever manage to break down those sky high walls you’ve put up over the years. I haven’t seen you in ages, Shadow. To see this cute pink hedgehog beside you… I’m just surprised you know…”

Amy was unsure whether this was a compliment or if Rouge was belittling her, which was sure to be a mistake. She locked eyes with her lover, who simply shrugged and told her Rouge wasn’t wrong about her being cute.

“I have to admit I’m impressed, Amy. You even got him to defile his oath and break the rules he’s so hang up on to follow.”

“Let’s drop the subject and just keep walking, okay?” Shadow sneered.

While continuing their search, Amy asked about Rouge’s kids. Rouge unravelled they were twins; a boy and a girl who were at the age of 4 now. The bat seemed fine with her questions and so Amy asked everything she liked to know and didn’t hold back. The pregnancy had surprised the now mother of two at the time. Somehow the guy who knocked her up wasn’t around anymore and it was just her and her two little troublemakers, as she called them.

Gradually the atmosphere between the trio got a friendly note to it. Rouge even teased Shadow, setting him on edge by saying he didn’t need to worry about the kids being his. With aggravated frown and deadpanned expression he stated it was an unnecessary thing to say. He could feel her eyes bore into the back of his head and pictured the kind of grimace that surely curled her lips.

They hit a bifurcation from where the tunnel divided into two separate corridors. Rouge drew out the chaos spores in the air to determine which way to go. They looked like a turquoise equivalent of fireflies. They swirled around in the air for a moment and then concentrated on the left corridor. It was the first time Amy witnessed a visible form of chaos energy and she was mesmerised by it.

A self-complacent smile curved the full lips of the bat-woman when she passed by Amy, her curved hips swaying as she did so. She lead the way while following the swarm-like chaos spores. With every step they made into the corridor its’ amount increased like a silent promise they were on the right track. The trio, now filled with curiosity and excitement, picked up the pace and Rouge peeked around the corner. She abruptly came to a stop and gave a muffled cry.

“A dead end?!”

Rouge cursed out loud, addressing the spores like they were a person who’d betrayed her. The three looked up to the bolt of energy whizzing above their heads. Shadow tapped at his cheek with his index finger, clearly brooding over the possibilities.

“Maybe not.”

Shadow stretched out his arms and absorbed the chaos energy from the spores to grasp the hands of the others next. At their touch a blue-greenish luminary flash gushed through them, increasing both their transparency and transcendence. He briefly informed them about his plan to jump through the ceiling, letting their chaos-affected bodily forms break the molecular structure of the rocks apart. The two women strongly disagreed with his plan. Feeling rather confident about this, he decided not to care about their opinions. He simply grabbed one of their arms and jumped up.

“This should work!”

_________________________________________

Summary: Shadow, Amy and Rouge begin their search for the gemstone after Amy thoroughly prepares their adventure with the help of her dear friend Tails. While on the road, Rouge opens up about surprising events from her past. ______________________________ Pffft, this felt more like a puzzle than a story to me. Never have I dragged so many alineas up and down the page to fit everything into place. I also struggled with translations of figure of speach here. One of the downsides of writing in English for me... Even so, when I translated a small part of ch 1 into my native language, it felt both off and odd to me. Also: sorry about the lenght!   - Like always: share your thoughts if you will and send me a not for annoying typo's or grammar mishaps. I'd really appreciate it! <3 - I uploaded this and some other stories/oneshots on AO3 recently. Username's the same as always

@shadamyheadcanons : promised to keep you updated 

#shadamy #shadamy fanfic #shadamy fanfiction #amadow #shadow the hedgehog #shadow x amy #shadamy romance #shadamy story #shadamy swordland au #shadamy swordcraft au #Amy Rose #Amy Rose the Hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #sth #sonic au #sonic fanfic #Miles Tails Prower #tails the librarian #Shadow the knight #rouge the bat #blaze the cat #romance #shadowsfascination #my story #adventure #magic #chaos energy #swordland au

[themilky-way]

kinship {loki odinson}

gif credit: go-fandom-imagines

pairing: loki odinson x female! reader

summary: loki never thought that he’d defend, let alone protect, a midgardian. but after seeing you, in your most vulnerable states, he made it his mission to look after you. loosely based on this song. 

warnings: some hints of violence (nothing too graphic), blood, and like one bad word. also when the characters say “kid” to you, it’s nothing age wise it’s just something i feel they’d call you yk.

notes: i’m in my loki feels ya’ll know the drill i just miss this man. also ik some of u ladies don’t have long hair i’m sorry! i’m having a little trouble making the words fit and stuff so please give me tips on how to improve!

the first time it happened was when you were sleeping. he never meant to walk in on your frail body, curled up in a ball in the over sized armchair tony had installed in the common room. your feet were tucked in neatly beneath you, with one hand splayed out across your stomach while the other held a book, your thumb keeping it partially open. your head had lolled down so it could rest on the arm rest, and while at first it had been rather uncomfortable, you let your eyes naturally droop so they could rest. 

it had been the middle of the night, roughly around two in the morning, when loki decided to walk around the tower. he did this every so often, finding some sort of comfort from the peace and quiet the darkness held, but he had never encountered anybody else. he walked down the hall and past every avenger’s room, until he reached the living room. originally, his plan was to stand at the wide glass window the room displayed and simply watch the city lights glitter in all sorts of patterns. after that, he would go to the terrace for a bit, just enough for the sun to come up and the sky to change to warmer colors. but he didn’t do that tonight. why? well, he didn’t really know the answer to that himself. 

when he entered the room, he came across your sleeping form. he noticed the way in which you nestled your body further down the fur of the cushion and curled yourself into your body just a little more to stop goosebumps from forming. you were cold, your body heat not enough to cover the sharp temperatures that reached you. loki, taking note of this, took off his cardigan, and walked over to where you were sleeping. he straightened the delicate fabric before he laid the emerald green sweater over your frame. he tucked it in where he felt it might fall over with a random movement, careful to not dig his fingers in too deeply so it would hurt or startle you. next, he took the liberty to carefully retract the open book from your hand to place it on the coffee table, and then grabbed more of his cardigan so it covered your relaxed hand and tummy. he drew back a few steps, to examine his work. he felt it was mediocre, not as good as it might’ve been if steve or wanda had done it, but it was enough for you to rest. 

loki was not a man who grasped the concept of emotional connections very well. he was someone who didn’t have a feel for intimacy, who despised physical touch, who didn’t know anything about feelings other than hatred or malice. but here he was, peering down at your frail body, in one of its most fragile states that could possibly exist, and felt something. he didn’t know what it was, and he knew he didn’t want to find out, but it would reach him. the feeling, along with the desire, to get to know you in more intricate ways. 

he walked over to the couch a couple of feet to the right of where you were and took a seat, folding his left leg onto the soft, plush seat while the other one remained planted on the marbled floor. he had a view of the window, like he originally planned to study, but he found his attention drifting to another sight. he observed how quietly you breathed, the soft exhales that your nose released every few seconds. after a while, he noticed how your lips parted slightly and began to exhale with it instead. the soft breaths turned louder, and your snores were now evident to him. they weren’t loud, barely even there, and only lasted a minute or two before they returned to regular breathing. 

he also noticed how the hair on top of your head was beginning to disperse from its neat place. the soft, baby hairs that adorned the sides of your forehead lost their place and decided to scavenge for another, and the more you adjusted your head, the more they ruffled. he also saw the way your body slightly trembled from the sudden gusts of wind the air conditioner would send, and how you finally embraced his clothing. it sent a thrill through loki, the thought, the image of you breathing in his scent that lingered on his sweater, how you seemed to like it and do it so mindlessly. it empowered him. and so he stayed there until dawn. 

the next time loki encountered you in a similar state was two weeks later. tony had sent him to fetch you for a mission that was risky, and he had felt bad to include you since you had put in some vacation hours. loki, although he would never openly admit to anyone nor himself, had conducted some research on you since he first saw you. he knew you were stressed, deeply longing some time off to unwind and focus on yourself, and he seemed almost hesitant to follow through with stark’s request. nevertheless, he started his way up to your room, following the route to the elevator, and cutting some sharp corners to finally reach your corridor. as he was strolling down it, however, he caught the hints of different patternized beats and melodies coming from the end of it. he kept his ears perked in case he heard someone else, brows furrowed in confusion, but as he kept his pace and finally reached the outside of your door, he discovered the music was comingfrom you. he felt weird, intruding into your personal space like this, but in his defense, stark had sent him. just before he could reach up and properly knock, he noticed the door was slightly ajar. not sufficient enough for you to see him but enough for him to see you. he watched your body, a little too intently for his liking, flow to the rythmn of the upbeat song. your hands reaching up to run them through your hair while your hips swayed from side to side. your right foot would step out and then you’d bring your left one in, and then did the opposite. 

all in all, it was an innocent dance, you were releasing tension that you were holding in for a while, and you were happy. loki saw that, in your face to be more exact. his eyes first reached your own, which were closed and nowhere near recognizing his broad figure in your doorway. he scanned your nose, how your nostrils would flare harder than usual whenever you released a longer breath. he compared it to when he first saw you sleeping in the common room, and he couldn’t decide which event he liked better. he finally reached your lips, and he had to physically fight his newfound urges and stop himself from busting in and connecting them to his own. they were delicate, soft, and slightly chapped. it was evident that you picked at the skin on your bottom one because he noticed a small red patch on one side of your bottom lip. he couldn’t look away, and he felt awful, thinking of you in such intimate ways while you were unbeknownst of his presence. but what made him almost completely lose his mind was the moment in which you tucked that very same lip, the red, almost raw, portion of it between your teeth. he let his eyes run over the action, and felt an all too familiar emotion grow in the pit of his stomach, one that he never imagined you’d be the one to elicit.

he’d had enough. he’d seen enough. without thinking twice on it, loki barged into your bedroom, steel door hitting the wall with a strong bang, and spoke with authority. 

“stark needs you for a mission. he wants you onboard in ten.” you spun around to face him, a sharp gasp escaping your throat and shocked expression washing over your features. he had to mask his worry and regret of scaring you like this with indifference. he needed to do it like this. he couldn’t risk you turning too far and opening your oh so beautiful eyes only to find him creepily concentrating on you. 

“loki, what the hell,” you breathed. “you fucking scared me!” 

he tried to not let the way you had voiced that get to him. you were startled, frightened, and that mixed with the energy you were dancing with was sure to leave you gasping. but loki had seen you, twice now, in some of your purest forms. so the way you softly huffed his name, even for different reasons, made his mind run wild and his heart jump hurdles. he managed to keep his face stilled, though, and rolled his eyes and told you not to be such a wuss and to shut your music off. you walked over and turned the knob of your stereo down, complying. it took almost every cell in his body to keep from muttering out incoherent apologies, pulling you in close and stroking your ruffled hair. but he didn’t do that. 

“yeah yeah. whatever. can you tell tony that i can’t go? i’m taking some days off and i-”

“he made it clear to me that you’re presence is crucial to the outcome of this mission,” he interrupted, his voice low. you rolled your eyes and started to frantically assemble your go bag, thanking loki for the message. he wanted to stay and watch you do this too, but all he did was let out a hum of acceptance and walk out your door. as he walked through the corridors and seemingly endless turns to leave your dormitory, he replayed everything he saw, and a small smile curved its way onto his own lips. and for the entirety of the next week that you were gone, he kept doing it. 

you, with much reluctance, had hopped on the plane with steve, bucky, tony, and natasha. it was a hard mission, but you had been trained by one of the fiercest assassins that the world ever saw. so, alongside natasha, you fought almost effortlessly. but regardless of how effective you and your team performed, the enemy was also calculated. he managed to trick you into believing he was alone, that he was finishing this fight by himself. but when bucky was holding the sinister man down, he got hit with a strong blow to his shoulder. the metal of the bullet would have clashed against the metal of his own arm, but this bullet, according to the dying words of the man, was made especially for bucky. he was wounded, and tony flew to get him off the field as quickly as he could. natasha took hold of the man and held him down one last time, and as more of his soldiers appeared all around you, you and steve attacked them. you gave your everything, landing nasty blows in every direction. steve threw his shield to pin an adversary to the side of a car as he pinned you down on the ground, and you reached over to take it out of the man and shifted so you were able to see behind you. as soon as you did, you connected the blue and red colored metal to the face of another enemy. the last one. the team, from wherever they were standing, relaxed a little and looked around at all the casualties. tony and natasha had managed to take care of the leader, and steve looked over at you from his protective stance and grinned proudly. but his smile abruptly disappeared when he saw you fall back down. he noticed a small pool of blood collecting around your torso and rushed to your aid. 

“tony, (y/n)’s wounded too! get the jet and get her inside. i’ll get bucky,” steve said hurriedly. tony landed shortly after and told friday to bring the jet down to your coordinates. steve looked down at you and let his hand caress the top of your head lightly before speaking again. “hang in there, kid, we’ll take care of you.” 

you tried to make out his figure leave, and eventually run, to where bucky was lying to bring him aboard. you couldn’t really see him, though, because your vision was beginning to blur and your ears had started to ring. you attempted to keep your eyes open to see tony press a tech device to your wound and you winced, eyes squeezing shut tightly. all at once, you stopped hearing tony’s scrambled words, muscles around your face and body going completely numb. then, you succumbed into full darkness and so did everyone and everything around you.

the next time you opened your eyes, it was to a dimly lit operating room. your visual acuity quickly adjusted as your eyes kept bouncing around the different light bulbs, and then you turned your head to the right. you saw bucky peacefully sleeping, a patch adorning the top of his shoulder and an iv scaling up to the actual bag containing the medicine. you then raised your head a little to see that your clothes had been changed to some medical shorts and an oversized t-shirt. you knew then that it had been wanda who had helped, seeing as the band displayed on the shirt was her favorite. next, you turned to the left, and this time, you saw the back of a male figure. after careful study and concentration, you realized it was bruce. 

“bruce?” you voice came out in a hoarse and cracked whisper. but it was loud enough for bruce to turn around and gleam at you. 

“(y/n)! i see you’re awake, can i get you anything?” he took off his glasses and set them down next to some documents and walked over to you. you nodded weakly and shakily asked for some water, making an effort to get up from the bed but stopped after you felt a sharp pain take over the left side of your abdomen. you winced and let out a painful groan, and bruce instantly took a hold of your arm as his other hand reached around your back to steady you.

“careful, you’re hurt.”

“what happened, exactly?” you wondered, voice starting to come back to normal. by now, you were properly seated along the edge of the bed with your feet unsteadily planted on the ground. once bruce saw that you were stable enough to not fall, he allowed himself to pour water from a pitcher into a glass that had both been on your side table. you took the glass into your shaky hands and brought the rim up to your lips, relishing the hydration it brought to your dry mouth. you swigged it rather quickly, and bruce took it back and set it down before answering your question. 

“well, you were on a mission, from what steve tells me. they brought you and bucky to me as soon as they could. you were stabbed, kiddo. i patched you up and took out your iv about an hour ago.”

your lips parted and let your jaw open a little in a surprised motion. you had a knife, at one point in your fight, plunged into you? you didn’t even feel anything. your head started to throb now that you were fully awake, and you could feel the pain more clearly. 

“you’re strong, you know,” his voice brought you back to him. it was reassuring, gentle, just like you knew bruce was. “all of you guys are.” 

you smiled at him and reached out to touch his hand, and squeezing it lightly. he pulled you into a hug, and you accepted it kindly, acknowledging the help and most importantly the presence of one of your best friends. when you pulled back, he saw you grimace as another shot of pain spread across your abdomen. he asked you if you desired to go to your room, and after you said yes, he was quick in his efforts to completely stand you up and off the bed. his hand was holding one of yours, and the other was on your back like before, but just as you were beginning to walk, another voice spoke. 

“i can take you. if you allow me.” 

your eyes diverted in the direction of the voice it came from, and you landed on a pair of sharp blue orbs. stopping dead in your tracks, you found your mouth becoming dry again. his eyes pierced into your own, and you couldn’t find any word combination that would possibly make sense. you looked at bruce, as did he, and you found yourself nodding. you turned back to see loki all stood up and heading over to where you were standing. since bruce was holding you from the right, loki let his hand slip around your waist on the other side, a few goosebumps forming around your body at the contact. the other hand, reached to take yours in his and held it strongly. you started walking again, at first slowly, but once you got the hang of your own legs again, it became much easier for the both of you.

the walk to your room was silent, but not awkward. he grip on your waist was sturdy, but gentle and whenever you let out huffs of pain, he would stop and allow you to rest for a while. eventually, you reached your door, and he let go of your hand to open it. 

“may i?” loki inquired. you simply nodded again, and he led you in. when you saw the arrangement of pillows and blankets that awaited your arrival, it took you aback. you looked at him before asking, “did you do this?”

he stared at you for a few seconds, enough time for you to feel butterflies crawling around, and nodded.

during your entire stay at the tower, you couldn’t really deny the way you saw loki. it wasn’t anything deep, just a simple, growing attraction towards him. when you first arrived, loki was being detained after literally destroying the entire city, so his attitude towards you was hostile. but you found him handsome, despite his rude behavior, and his snappy comments and witty banter made the emotion within you much stronger. over time, you tried your best to be nice to him, to really get to know him unlike the majority of your team. no matter how many times loki shut you out of his life, you didn’t take it personal and continued to be your happy and cheery self when you saw him. 

over time, loki stopped fighting to keep you out, and he switched from being rude to acting annoyed. you viewed this as a win and didn’t delve too much into far more personal problems to keep him from shutting you out again. despite you promptly sticking to this ideology, you couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t speak to you as often as he did these past few weeks. it was strange, but then again, it’s loki, you thought.

god, but now, he does this? watches you for who knows how long while you’re in the middle of a drug-induced trance? offers to take you to your room, which apparently he’s arranged to fit your commodity, and holds you so perfectly? it’s all too much for you, the way he makes you feel, but even though you try to push the thought away, it bombards once more. 

one of your legs gives out, and you almost, almost fall to the ground. his free hand reached over to grab the other side of your hip to hold you, tightly squeezing the soft muscle that was there. he stilled, watching you intently to see if you were alright and looking for any signs of severe pain. you felt his gaze on you, but you didn’t look up, fully knowing that if you did, you’d give out again. instead, you looked down at your oversized clothes and focused on the design.

“let me get you to bed, so you can rest. can i do that?” his tone was caring, nursing even. his voice was silky, intoxicating your senses more than you liked. you wanted him to talk forever and listen to him rant about endless topics that were running through his mind. but right now your well being prevented you from doing that so you simply muttered, “please.”

he moved so he was behind you, his hands moving along the fabric of your clothes so they didn’t separate from your waist. he pushed you gently and guided you to your side of the bed, eventually letting his hands slide off gradually from your sides as you sat. you missed his touch as soon as it left. and he missed touching you.

as you scooted up so your head could lay on the soft, cushioned pillow, loki removed some other ones that he deemed unnecessary to your comfort. then, he grabbed the folded blanket he placed at the foot of the bed and unfolded it over you. immediately you nuzzled into it and took in the scent that it gave off, and you could’ve sworn that you recognized it. loki noticed it, and he let his mind wander to the night he took care of you sleeping, how you’d done the same exact thing to the smell of his cardigan. it sent him into a frenzy, stomach erupting into fluttering butterflies, hands turning clammy, and pinkish heat coloring his cheeks. how was it possible, he thought, that you made him feel like this. he didn’t notice how long he had observed you for, his eyes raking up your body and wishing nothing more than to embrace it once and for all. to feel the warmth of your hugs, and to ease your pain, even if it would be for a brief moment. his eyes continued traveling up towards you face, and when he finally reached your eyes, he found yours already looking at him. 

“you can take a seat over there if you’d like?” you questioned him. you nudged with your head at a sofa that was behind him, and he furrowed his eyebrows as he looked back to look at it. he turned back around and asked, “you want me to stay?”

“yeah, i kinda do. you don’t have to obviously,” you stopped mid sentence as a new wave of pain rushed through, grimacing. as it passed, you continued, “but it’d be nice.”

of course he was going to stay. he knew he didn’t have to, but he wanted to. he wanted to take care of you, nurse you in every possible way he could so you could dance animatedly again. so you could fall asleep in the common room, reading your favorite novel and cuddle his sweater. and he wanted you. so without much hesitation this time, he offered you a warm, kind smile and made his way to the sofa and settled in. you, on the other hand, adjusted so your legs were folded but your back was still on the bed to avoid hurting yourself. it was an uncomfortable position, but you weren’t one to complain. you stayed there looking at the ceiling and counted the little glow in the dark stars that tony had glued for you. all the while you could feel a strong gaze look at you, but you were too afraid to say something or even look over. about ten minutes passed with utter silence, the sounds of breaths being exhaled exempt. 

“you could’ve died.” 

“we all could’ve.”

“yes, but you could’ve died.” he regretted enhancing the word as soon as he spoke it. had he said too much? gone too far? he saw you shift your focus from the stars to his face, confusion written all over it. he didn’t look away, though, as embarrassing as it was for him.

“i thought you didn’t like me,” you remarked. loki scoffed and rolled his eyes before returning them toward you. “this has nothing to do with liking you, human.”

you chuckled at this, the rumbling of your chest sending another low shot of pain. “then what does it have to do with?”

he turned away and focused on your tiny bookshelf in the corner of your dorm instead. “taking care of you,” he answered faintly. at this, you’re features relaxed. the smallest smile began to tug at your lips, eyes beginning to sparkle with some sort of affection towards the god.

“ah, so you like me.” 

loki laughed lightly at your reply, but mostly to hide the nervousness his voice might convey if he spoke. he found it stunning; how you effortlessly made him feel worthy of kinship. another, shorter, ripple of silence took over, but you were the one to break it this time. 

“can you take care of me?” the words hit him like a punch in the stomach, and almost instantly his mind started running wild once more. every phrase that appeared to be coherent was not anymore. he looked at you, thinking about how innocently you had voiced your words, how genuine you felt them. 

“loki?”

“hm?” he pretended not to have heard you, pretended to be lost in some other thought that wasn’t you. 

“can you stay here tonight?” 

never in his life did loki imagine he’d be watching over an injured midgardian. he also never imagined for them to be you. “of course, i don’t mind,” he swiftly responded. he mentally scolded himself for answering so fast and at how needy he probably sounded. nevertheless, any thought of embarrassment disappeared from his mind when you wholeheartedly smiled at him. you thanked him, and let your eyes close naturally. your head had relaxed completely against the pillow and your arms were entangled in the fuzzy blanket. you spoke, for one last time that night, and groggily whimpered, “g’night, loki.”

for the third time, loki was studying yet another one of your most vulnerable forms. it left him at ease knowing that nothing could ever harm you as long as he was there. and he was starting to realize in much greater depth, that there was nothing in this broken world that he wouldn’t do for you. to make you happy; to keep you safe. when he finally replied, it was mainly for him to hear it only.

“g’night, (y/n).”

#loki odinson x reader #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki of asgard #marvel #mcu #tom hiddleston #loki fanfiction #loki odinson fanfiction #loki fluff #marvel imagines #loki imagine #loki layfeyson x reader #loki x y/n #loki #loki odinson x you #loki odinson x y/n #loki laufeyson x reader

[mikkomacko]

Dear Daisy 3

“So this is the palace, huh?”

Daisy rolls her eyes at Summer’s teasing, the two of them giggling as they climb the steps to the house. Harry’s car isn’t sitting in the driveway as it was his ride to work this morning, and she smiles a tiny bit at the reminder that she gets the house to just her and Summer.

“S'not a palace,” she defends, sticking her key in the lock and throwing the door open. “it’s big, much bigger than my house, but still.”

Summer follows her in, eyes widening as she takes in the living and dining room. Daisy’s taken it upon herself to start opening the blinds and french doors in the mornings to allow some light in, giving the house a much homier look.

“Technically, this is your house Daisy.” Summer breathes, running her fingers over the polished wood table her and Harry eat dinner at. “Now give me a tour!”

Although Summer’s words made her a bit anxious because this is definitely not her house in her heart, she still leads her to the kitchen. It’s pretty much visible from the dining room, only separated by a large counter top, but she supposes Summer would still want a good look. After fawning over the shiny white cabinets, Summer follows Daisy up the staircase.

“Don’t come up here much,” Daisy admits as she steps onto the landing. “but I think I know where everything is at.”

Summer doesn’t question her about not exploring the second floor of the house and Daisy is thankful. She doesn’t know why she doesn’t come up here. Maybe because she knows Harry sleeps up here, and after him very rudely telling her not to sleep by him she just feels uncomfortable up here. That’s why, after showing her the three guest bedrooms and bathroom to the left, they’re upon Harry’s room and the forbidden room.

“Harry sleeps in there,” Daisy says quietly, as if Harry might pop out from behind the door to scold her for stepping too close to his room. Summer hums teasingly, reaching around y/n for the doorknob.

“Summer no!” Daisy squeals, smacking her friend’s hand away. “We can’t go in there! He’ll find out and be even more pressed than usual!”

Summer rolls her eyes at Daisy’s dramatics, but nevertheless releases the brass knob. She nods towards the other closed door. “What’s in there?”

Daisy shrugs, chewing her bottom lip. “He told me to stay away from there,” she admits embarrassed, eyes widening as Summer leaps towards the door and throws it open before Daisy can even think to stop her. She gasps, reaching forward to grab Summer before she can step too far into the room but the sight makes her freeze.

It’s empty. The room is 100% empty. Nothing but a huge three-pane window with a windowsill daybed covered by a white sheet, and dusty wood floors. Elegant sconces sit on the far wall, the perfect width to frame a bed. The room is truly beautiful, and Daisy’s a little upset that Harry wouldn’t let her take this room. The daybed is the perfect spot to read and she’s sure it’s got a wonderful view of the backyard.

“This is nothing Daisy,” Summer says, clearly unimpressed, “it’s an empty room. It tells us nothing about Harry.”

“W-why wouldn’t he want me to come in here?”

Summer shrugs, running her fingers over the light pink walls. “Maybe it’s haunted!”

“I don’t think so,” Daisy immediate assures, “otherwise we’d hear weird noises at night and it’s always silent up here.”

Summer frowns. “Harry doesn’t make noise?”

Daisy shakes her head.

“Never?”

Another shake. “Only when he’s mad.”

Summer looks Daisy up and down, thumbing at her bottom lip and jutting her hip out, deep in thought. Daisy, feeling like a pig on a spit, stays frozen like a Popsicle. She doesn’t know what loony thought is running through her best friend’s head, and she positive she doesn’t want to know.

“Do you think he’s loud in bed?”

Daisy makes a noise sounding like “gwualp”, eyes widening in horror. She’s right, she really didn’t want to know.

~

“You could plant big beautiful sunflowers right here!” Summer exclaims, throwing her arms open wide, “That way they’ll bloom in front of your window!”

Daisy purses her lips, looking over the small patch of dirt that she’s hoping to make a garden out of. Harry’s got flowers in the front yard so she didn’t think he’d mind if she added some to the back. Plus, she’d like to have pretty flowers outside her window.

“That’d be awfully pretty, but I still have to ask Harry-”

“Ask me what?”

She practically jumps out of her skin at the sound of his voice, head snapping to the right to find him only a couple feet away from her. His hair is messy on his head, curls flattened but sticking up in waves that lead her to believe he’s been running his fingers through them. His shirt is buttoned to his neck under the dark brown sweater vest he’s wearing, but he’s rolled up the sleeves to his elbows. And his eyes look tired and dull under the pinched eyebrows that perfectly top off his frown.

“Was thinking of planting some flowers,” Daisy mumbles, looking at Summer with apprehension. She didn’t think Harry would be home this early, and she doesn’t really know how he feels about having strangers in his house, aside from her of course. “if that’s okay?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, frown deepening as he looks at her, and the apology on the tip of her tongue goes unsaid. “S'your house too now. Don’t have to ask me.”

She has clench her jaw to keep it from flopping open. He’s giving her permission to change the house as if they’re a happy engaged couple that actually love each other? And he doesn’t seem too upset about having to say it, so she’d like to believe it wasn’t forced out of courtesy.

“Oh, okay.”

Harry nods, looking her over, and she nervously fidgets. Last time he saw her in this dress, they’d run into each other in town. He’d told her the dress was too plain to catch the attention she’s obviously desperate for. She wonders if he remembers, but by the way he breezily turns his gaze to Summer makes her think he doesn’t.

“Hello Summer.”

“Hi Harry, good day at work?”

Harry grunts, shrugging his shoulders. He turns back to Daisy. “Dinner’s at seven.” Before she can say anything, he saunters back up the porch steps and into the house. The backyard is silent for a moment, until Summer huffs.

“You may hate him, Daisy, but that smolder is…” Summer trails off, fanning herself. Daisy rolls her eyes, cheeks turning pink, but she can’t exactly deny it. Harry is handsome, really handsome. He’s proper aces, and if the term ‘boat’ weren’t such a sensitive topic with her, she’d probably call him a dream boat. She decides to ignore Summer’s comment.

“Are you staying for dinner or not?”

~

No music plays through the radio in the corner tonight, the buffer between Harry and Daisy unnecessary with Summer at the table to fill the silence. Harry made roast for dinner, and though she’d never say it out loud, she thinks it tastes even better than the roast her mother makes. And she loves Meredith’s roast.

But of course, Daisy’s thoughts can never be kept quiet when Summer’s around considering she can practically read Daisy’s mind. And she loves to voice every thought her best friend has.

“You’re a great cook Harry,” Summer compliments, pointing her fork down at her plate, “this roast is even better than Daisy’s mother’s.”

Harry hums, elbows sat on his table as he finishes chewing his bite. “M'sure it’s not, but thank you Summer.”

“No really, ask Daisy. She loves roast!”

Daisy thinks she might have a heart attack when Harry looks up at her, raising a prodding eyebrow. She can feel Summer grinning proudly next to her but she’s trapped under Harry’s strong gaze like a deer in headlights. She swallows the bite in her mouth. “I-its good. But it’s been so long since I had my mother’s I can’t really compare them.”

Harry’s eyes suddenly gleam with amusement, and Daisy knows he can see right through her. She blushes, knocking her foot angrily into Summer’s under the table. Summer giggles, clearing her throat when Harry glances at her.

“You should go visit more,” Summer changes the subject, “Kitty misses you so much. I believe she’s taken over your old bedroom.”

Daisy’s chest feels hollow at the thought of Kitty missing her so much she’s changed rooms, and she can’t help but think that her family is probably sitting around their table now, unfazed by her empty chair. Or maybe it’s been filled by Stella.

“We could pop by tomorrow,” Harry offers, finally leaning back in his chair and removing his elbows from the table. “Haven’t seen them since the party last week.”

The offer is sweet, but Daisy doesn’t think she wants Harry visiting with her. The two of them going to her parents house like that, as if they’re a normal couple, would just further solidify that Daisy is no longer a part of their faces, but Harry’s now. She doesn’t want to admit that in a few weeks she’ll be Daisy Styles.

“You don’t have work tomorrow?” She asks with false hope. She knows how work goes for him. He goes in if he has to, but most of the time he stays home with her. Being the co-owner of a company gives him lots of freedom.

Harry squints at her, obviously trying to figure out why she’s playing dumb. “No, I don’t. Even if I did I think I’d take off. Get to know the in-laws.”

“They like you well enough,” Daisy says, tone harsher than she meant it to be. Harry looks at her unimpressed, and she winces, sinking in her chair.

“Kitty loves him,” Summer pipes up, ever joyous.

That catches Harry’s interest, head tilting in curiousness and Daisy feels wobbly at the way his eyes seem to twinkle with elation. “Really?”

Summer nods vigorously, and Daisy abandons her dinner in favor of crossing her arms over her chest. “She thinks you’re lovely. Asked me if she could maybe dance with you at the engagement party but I told her she was mine for the night.”

If possible, Harry’s emerald eyes grow even brighter and two innocent dimples sink into his cheeks. “I would’ve danced with her,” Harry responds, actually sounding kind for once. He couldn’t even speak to Daisy like that when she was having a panic attack under the pier. Of course Kitty can turn him into a gentleman. Of course Summer can actually make him converse.

“Perhaps next time when you don’t have a cat afraid of water attached to you.” Summer giggles, and Harry chuckles, and Daisy’s heart drops to her stomach. Why is so hard for her to interact with Harry? Why does everything she do piss him off? And why in God’s name did he hate her enough to push her in the pool? She has done nothing’s wrong!

Daisy’s so utterly disappointed and peeved she doesn’t realize she’s being stared at until Summer elbows her. “Stop that, you’ll get frown lines.” Harry teases, mocking smirk on his face. She suddenly feels like crying again.

“God forbid the fake wife of Harry Styles be unhappy in a prison.”

The fire in her tone doesn’t go unnoticed, especially by Summer, who gawks. Daisy doesn’t get angry, and if she does, it’s never expressed. But Harry just has a gift for making her a terrible person.

“Prison?” Harry scoffs, “S'better than the rat’s nest you were living in before!”

“At least the people in the ‘rat’s nest’ didn’t make me feel like the world’s worst burden!”

She’s so angry she doesn’t care that her best friend is sitting there and it’s rude to leave her with Harry, so she jumps up from her seat, leaving her dishes at the table and storms off towards her bedroom, eyes brimmed with tears. Even with the burning rush of blood in her ears she hears Harry’s next words.

“Sometimes a burden’s a gift.”

She ignores the way it pushes the tears over her waterline.

~

Harry’s sat on the couch, brows furrowed as he reads his book. Daisy doesn’t know what book it is, and she doesn’t ask. Peeking around the corner into the living room, heart pounding nervously, she clears her throat quietly.

“Harry?”

Her voice comes out so small she’s shocked when Harry actually hears her, looking up at her with a confused tilt to his head.

“Why are ya hiding in the hallway?”

Daisy blushes, lowering her eyes as she fully steps into the living room, hands fiddling with her night gown. “C-can I ask you something?”

Harry let’s out a low puff of air, closing his book and placing it on his knee. He nods towards the cushion next to him, but Daisy stays still. Harry sighs again, but doesn’t push her. “Wha’s on your mind?”

She takes a deep breath, spitting out her question before she can chicken out. “What’s in the room upstairs?”

Harry stills, shoulders tensing and he stays silent, unreadable eyes locked on hers. “The one by your room,” she adds quietly, “why can’t I go in there?”

He looks shocked by her question, as if he never expected her to ask such a thing. “S'just private. Ya don’t see my pottering around your bedroom, do ya?”

Daisy shrugs, skin feel itchy and hot. There’s something soothing about thinking of Harry going into her room simply. because he wants to. She feels like she’s been through a tornado after how upset she was at dinner, and how alone she felt on the drive to Summer’s house, and now she feels like Harry is the human embodiment of a knitted sweater straight off the clothes line.

“But it’s not your bedroom.”

Harry purses his lips. “No, it’s not,” he says after a moment, “but the office isn’t your bedroom either, and yet I don’t go in there anymore.”

Daisy tries to sort through his words, the way he’s explaining the oddly beautiful but empty room upstairs, but it still doesn’t make sense. Why does he love that empty room so much?

“If it’s my room, why can’t I look in the desk drawers?”

Harry chuckles as if he’d been expecting the rebuttal. “Room’s yours, not the furniture.” He moves to pick up his book, and Daisy takes that as the end of the conversation. She turns, heading back towards the hallway when Harry stops her with a soft call of her name. She turns back to him. He’s risen from the couch, book tucked into the pocket of his trousers.

“Lily Iris,” he murmurs thoughtfully, “should plant some in your garden.”

Daisy stares, dumbfounded. Harry’s smirk curls his lips, but this time it’s almost longingly, and his eyes drop to his shoes.

“Symbolizes Florence,” he says simply, as if that could explain everything.

“Florence? The city?”

“Visited Italy a few times, Florence was my favorite.” He peers up at her through his eyelashes, lips still smiling beautifully. “Fell in love with her.”

The veins under her skin burn, and her neck prickles at how utterly taken he seems to be with Florence. It’s almost as if the city were a person, a beautiful girl with flowing hair and red lips and freckled cheeks, that managed to dig out Harry’s heart and capture him. Maybe something about that city is a part of him. She thinks of him speaking of her like that, saying her name as if it’s the holiest of prayers to the strongest God.

Harry eyes her curiously, and she thinks he may be onto her train of thought. Without so much as a goodnight, she flees back down the hallway, leaving a grinning Harry in their living room.

~

Unable to sleep without hearing Harry’s voice echoing in her ears, his soft sentiment of “I fell in love with her” flowing through her entire being, she tip toes back towards the living room. She’s not sure what she’s looking for, but it doesn’t matter. She just needs to get out of her room, her room that is so devastatingly bare of Harry. At least his room has her presence, has felt her bare feet on the flooring, and her fingertips on his bedding from all the times she’s fetched his laundry. Her room has nothing.

She freezes in the living room when she realizes the yellow lamp in the corner is on, and Harry’s sprawled out across the couch, book thrown carelessly on his chest. He’s wearing blue and white striped pajamas, and she imagines his eyes look a soft baby blue next to the color. She’s never seen him sleep before. He looks younger, no scowl on his face, even though that famous furrow is still present between his eyebrows. He doesn’t snore, but his lips are parted with deep, audible breaths.

Moving silently, Daisy takes the blanket draped over the back of the rocking chair and gently spreads it out over him. His bare feet stick out the bottom, and she worries they might get cold so she quietly scurries to laundry room and finds a clean pair of his socks, leaving them on the coffee table next to him. She takes the book from his chest, careful to not disturb him, and lays it on the coffee table as well. Deciding that that’s enough affection for Harry, she turns off the lamp, waiting a moment to listen to his soothing breaths, and then returns to her room. This time she sleeps easily, dreaming of an unknown city, with streets lined with Lily Iris’, and a thick knit sweater over her shoulders, straight off the clothes line

#Dear Daisy #harry styles #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #harry styles imagine #one direction #harry imagine #harry styles au #ww2 harry #soldier harry #angst #1930s harry #arranged marriage au

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Hobbit Soulmate Pt 37

“You’re doing it again,” Tracy said once in the set with you for your next scene post lunch you’d mostly read through while Lee continued to bask in the hype of the news of how his film was doing numbers wise. Head turned your eyes fell on her and she said, “You are sulking. Are you sleeping?”

“Ya,”

Inching closer she asked in a try to be playful tone to ease out a smile from you, “Your teddy bear miss a phone call?”

“No, Richard called and messaged twice yesterday.” Her brows arched up through a smirk and you sighed, “He hid something in the closet. Spent weeks making sure I didn’t ‘know’ anything was there under his clothes and he left and now the cubby is empty.”

Her hand planted on your arm, “Oh, like a second phone? Or something?”

“Lee said he saw him at a jewelers in town while I was in New York for my table reads.”

“Oh,” she said with tone perking up.

“And I don’t even expect gifts, but he’s gone for months away from me and he left me a sweater and I’m trying not to pout at not getting the gift he’s so terrible at hiding that he has for me, but,” after a quick sigh you said, “A gift would have been nice.”

That had Tracy giving you a hug, an action luring Lee’s gaze from across the set to you and your moment of allowing your sunken expression read across your face, “Honey bunny, maybe it’s a welcome home to England present for when you see him again. I knew he was up to something, he is terrible at hiding things from you, even my sharing I was taking you for a manicure he was ready to explode for our weekend out while he was off on those night shoots.”

“I’ll be fine, and I’ll stop sulking.” She chuckled again and rubbed your back walking with you across the fake bar for your first marks and where she could find her drink covered tray prepped and ready to go.

“If my teddy bear left the country with the chance of more than a sweater I’d be sulking too. Don’t you feel bad, besides, I don’t think I’ve seen you with more than those studs in your ears since I’ve known you. You need some bling girl.”

“I really do,” you said twisting the ring on your left ring finger of metal flowers for this role feeling the necklace cold against your skin shifting under the collar of your furry collard coat once again.

.

All over the news the footage of the Oscars was being replayed, namely the clip from Adrien’s award for Lead male when he forced a kiss upon Halle Berry making you bury your face in your hands. “Didn’t even ask,” Lee muttered at your shift to plop your covered face on his thigh.

On your other side Tracy said, “And you have to work with that asshole. I look forward to the press of you bashing his face in.”

Lee said, “You and me both,” rubbing your back.

Tracy, “I still don’t like him, and you have to kiss him? I wouldn’t kiss him.”

Turning your head you looked to the replay and sighed, “Certainly don’t want to, but it’s just the one scene if I can’t talk Peter out of it.”

The press certainly didn’t help and while given the equivalent of a wag of the finger Adrien celebrated the win as the youngest male to ever receive it for Lead Male. Three days after his ride of that press wave and interview circuit the truth came crashing down to news of who was hired to play Ann Darrow. One sigh was his response to the question from a photographer on his path out and about for what he thought of the news only doubling down the urge to break down the actor’s resolve to loathe your being part of the franchise at his side.

 *

“Fifteen bucks, you are telling me you bought those for fifteen bucks?!” Chris all but shouted when his brother displayed the rings upon their arrival at his home from the airport.

Richard just had to show someone and figured Chris would be the best ally in this as he had helped him patch things up with you every time he flubbed things. “I bought the cabinet I found them in, and,”

“Oh I heard that part. Still don’t get how the pair of you can luck into that. These are incredible, I mean she certainly deserves this ring. Just leaving the question,”

“Don’t ask me when, Joe loves the ring and knows I have it, I just have no bloody clue when I could possibly hand it over. And I’ve had it for weeks with her out in Canada and the only time I could actually get it on her finger was when she was asleep. How the hell am I supposed to find some mysterious ‘perfect’ way to ask her when she’s conscious to marry me?! You know me!”

Chris nodded and said, “You got a point,” turning his head, “I idea list, that’s what we can do!” Crossing the room to fetch a notepad and pen.

.

Five episodes on Ultimate Force to the infidelity casual Cold Feet role the slump of one kiss after another not feeling right or orders to strip and redress again and again for those not you only deepened for Richard while growing ready for his next role. A tv mini series called Between the Sheets, another unfaithful role and one with the biggest drama and to his impression depth to the character also doubled for his most sexual. From a faked blow job to his several love scenes with the lead female to whom his character was married worry seemed to bubble up concerning what impressions would be once it aired. All the way from his parents to you and friends who might think it was the wrong choice of roles. Calls to you however seemed to bolster his hopes you might like it and not be jealous or upset of his behavior with another.

“Today was odd,” he sighed through the line on his phone call to you.

“Oh I think whatever it was it will be amazing.” You teased back mid swipe of your sponge over the dish you were cleaning with phone pressed to your shoulder.

“My co-star raked her nails across my butt cheeks, at least the sex scenes and my arrest are over with, now I just have my breakdown scene where I reveal my infidelity.”

“I’m beginning to think there’s a pattern growing in your roles, dying and dirty deeds.”

Lowly he chuckled, “Well I do play a good villain.”

“Oh psh, you wouldn’t hurt a paper swan.” Making his smile creep wider imagining your smile and what you might be wearing, “I am glad you will have tons of work coming out so we can have some more parties for you. I do love celebrating you Richy Bear.”

“I love you,” he hummed smile locked wider at the nickname knowing the smirk you always had when you said it. “Can’t wait for you to be back here. How’s the show?”

“Uh, tad bit insensitive and a touch racist but it’s certainly unique for a resume. Spring scenes should be better, even have that kid from Disney, Spenser something, has a spot on the show. I get to pin him to a wall.”

“Sounds like fun, I know it will be fantastic with you in it.”

“Either way I just can’t wait for it to be out already. It’s the waiting that will end me, ’05 is when it’s coming out, same as Kong but a few months earlier, over a year, Lee waited nearly three for his film.”

“We’ll just have to keep you distracted then won’t we?”

“Oh really now? And just how will you do that?” You asked drying your hands at the end of the dishes heading to your couch to lounge for the rest of the call feeling his smirk through the line.

 *

Another month hadn’t seemed to help things on that front with questions still lingering on how you could morph from one lead role to the next. Re-using your playful purple low dipping dress alone on Valentines Day you sat in the town car sent for you with hands interlocked on your lap waiting for this film to just be over. Eyes shut you forced yourself to relax in this communication lull of a supposed to be romantic holiday where you still had no bling to show off.

Brad and JLo fresh off their engagement alongside Jennifer Garner with a hopeful relationship on the horizon only made things worse on your painfully throbbing heart. Colin Farrell however seemed to save the day for you latching onto your bare side for the whole of the carpet at your reaching his location and even in the flash of the $1 Million triple pink diamond engagement ring on JLo’s finger made you grateful for the instant carpet buddy eager to catch up with you and hear about what you were up to in Canada after having seen your film twice now. Alone however your seat was bumped back to the row of extras who shared your curiosity on how little you would be fleeting across the screen of this film. Loud and boisterous at the club they had chosen for the after party the crowd helped in your slip out of the venue to hail a cab home to yet another empty apartment. Stretched out across your bed to wait for the time to leave and catch your flight to England where a late romantic morning bagel might help to make up for how you feel right now.

.

Right off your feet into a tight hug you were lifted. Still in your dress with Richard’s sweater and your coat over the dress hinting that you had to leave the party to make your flight in a rush down to the tall heels you had to take off for most of the day long flight. Already outside the cameras snapped away ready to spread that assumption when, post loving kiss, Richard took hold of your suitcase and duffel bag murmuring sweetly, “You bought a second bag.”

“Yes, seems I have picked up more clothes recently, and the shoes I got with the Jens didn’t help either.”

“I am just glad you have more things, I wasn’t fond of all your things fitting in one bag alone.” Leaning in he pressed another kiss to your forehead, “Let’s get you home, got a nice breakfast planned for you and day of relaxing before our table read tomorrow.”

Waiting on the set table a stuffed rhino sat beside a candle holder, around its head in a crown of sorts rested a silver bracelet with five round emeralds. “Happy late Valentines, they were out of roses,” he hummed lifting the bracelet that around the wrist he raised to lovingly secure it. Awkwardly a grin split across your face in the press of his lips to your palm and knuckles afterwards.

“It’s really beautiful, perfect gift, thank you, and I love the rhino too.” Spreading his own smile as you added, “My dad tell you I love emeralds?”

“Might have mentioned it,” he hummed back, “Sadly it was that one or some large joined bangle type design a bit too flashy I think for subway wearing for you to feel safe.”

“You would be right in that, bangles drive me a bit crazy too, have to wear some for the show. Thank you, really,” you said crashing into his chest for a tight hug he melted into holding you close to your murmur of, “Don’t know how you managed to keep this a secret so long.”

To himself he chuckled easing his arms more across your back, “Nearly killed me. I hate secrets from you.” His smile easing out more at your shift closer to his chest unaware of the much bigger jeweled secret hidden in his house Chris had aided in finding the least conspicuous place to put the rings. Time apart was shared in the joint task of fixing up a breakfast cuddled through and after. Lunch again was alone however supper happened to be part of a potluck ambush from the Armitage brood here to welcome you back again and plan out more time together.

.

Back in sweaters, boots and jeans you and Richard were off for the day. Hand in hand through the building you were directed to you arrived at the desk outside the appointed room where a smiling aid showed you both inside the lounge filled with couches and armchairs facing inwards towards the rug coated area in the center clearly for acting out the scenes if need be with named binders on each cushion. Tucked in one of the loveseats you and Richard were assigned your spots nearest to the director and with her darting off to fetch you some tea the binders were lifted to allow you to settle in. With a bashful grin between you at being the only ones here so far. “I think we might be a bit too early.”

“No such thing,” he hummed smiling at you then to the door as it opened again.

Through it Anna Martin, playing Bessy Higgins came through the door with a relieved sigh, “Not too late then, got stuck in that roundabout, vans wouldn’t let me over, Anna,” she said crossing the room with hand extended shaking Richard’s hand first in his quicker pop up then yours.

“Richard,”

“Jaqi, hi.” Releasing her hand to say, “Bessie, right?”

“Yes, I could have sworn you were British, but I must have seen you with several accents in your work.”

Richard chuckled, “Halfway at least by our math.”

“I do spend a good bit of the year here had tons of time to pick up the accents.”

Kay Lyon was next beside Brendan Coyle, playing Mary and Nicholas Higgins with the latter muttering about the same roundabout then joined in on the introductions. Brian Protheroe was next for Mr Bell followed by the two Thorntons finishing up Richard’s on screen family, Sinéad Cusack and Joy Joyner. Tim Pigott-Smith, Pauline Quirke, Lesley Manville, Rupert Evans filled in your family, Richard, Dixon, Maria and Frederick for the Hale household. For the Lennox brood Travis Oliver, John Light and Emma Ferguson were to be the captain, Henry and Edith. Jane Booker for Mrs Shaw led in the Boucher brood played by William Houston, Caroline Pegg and Spencer Wild. Seats filled one by one and with tea handed out the Director smiled taking their seat beginning their welcoming speech to open the first scene when the work was to get going.

One week this room was your daily stop with the floors below used to help each of you with your first fittings for your outfits through the show. Hair and makeup tests were next and surprised by the stretch of your curls a lovely few choices to pick from the team loved with ample spots for your unruliest of curls to slip out and dangle around your head gracefully helping with the scenes you would be playing exhaustion. Playful twists at Richard’s side fluffed and twirled your skirts luring the blushing grin from the top hat wearing brooder formerly scowling in focus while apart from you. Clearly the brooding surly side to John he had down, for everyone else it was how Richard looked at you adoringly between speaking to others that melted doubts on how convincing the blossoming love would show on screen.

.

Broken hearts came first, amid the drama of the brewing strike ready to bubble over courting another woman and pained glares came from Richard. Curt interactions and gruff inquiries and responses out of John to Margaret while he meant to uncover why she was not choosing to share her troubles with him. This was post betrayal when he deemed her to have been free with showing affections to some mystery man you’d yet to film yet, starting right in the pain of it all to bubble out to both the beginning and end while the country turned greener again when Spring came back around. Some might have imagined it to be rough to split from that harsh contrast, those who did not notice each teasing smile or face from you tearing a chuckle filled smile from Richard between the blush inducing pecks you stole on toe top pecks on his nose with each hushed argument.

The darkest of scowls came on the day the strike would break and if you hadn’t stayed close to show how much of a teddy bear Richard was the other men, especially Boucher who ‘threw’ the stone to knock Margaret unconscious in front of the mob in her try to save John from the harm’s way she pushed him into. Five takes of the brewing stress came with ease after the first try to see Richard not jump the rail and rush to throttle the actor. A rubber stone by a staff member above on a camera platform who lined up the toss to hit the spot a hidden makeup artist would sneak out once you’d done the collapse take enough times to play out the sprawled position for the streak of blood along your hairline. A task filled with hushed giggles from you until action was called again for Richard to lift you up and carry you inside again.

From this the next week would be scenes apart to meet up at the wardrobe building on the way to supper. The depression of the winter months and hardships of the funeral scenes bubbled to just one. In the midst of filming the scenes of the Hales arrival to Milton giggles slipped out between jokes traded between you and the female cast members who had been buried and still showed up to work still. Hints of green on the first flowering bushes outside had Richard smiling knowing that the romantic ending was coming up along with that devastating refusal or marriage for John he hoped to be the only time he would get a refusal to a proposal from you. He never had the thought pop into his head before, there wasn’t a reason for you to refuse to marry him. True it’d just been a slightly teasing glimmer in the distance with close friends and relatives but forever was his goal and to his own mind he had made that apparent. Now the question had bubbled up again of how.

Brendan smirking in your latest break between sets inched over in the gentle blow you gave to the steaming tea helping to warm you up on the nippy end to winter. “You are actually adorable you know.” Having caught Richard’s stolen kiss on his way to head to his office for more scenes post street interaction with you.

Smiling up at him you said mid giggle, “Thank you, you are quite adorable yourself.”

Deeply he chuckled to himself and said, “I have to admit I was a bit intrigued to see how things would go between the pair of you with all that press around you and that brunette out in Canada.”

“Oh,” you said lowering your mug to let it cool accepting help from one of the aids taking your shawl to shake the fake cotton off the back of it, “That’s Lee, my best friend from Drama School, out in Canada we’re on a show together picking back up in the end of Spring.”

Anna who’d snuck up said, “That’s good to hear, you do make a perfect couple. Some guys I know would be up in arms over a flub like that.”

That had you giggle after another blow on your tea, “Well he knows Lee, we’re all good friends so I think that’s part of it. Plus he is a tad amused that he’s been called my Boy Toy,” making the pair chuckle as you giggled again, “We’ve gotten used to long distance and I suppose it really comes down to trust issues for guys, hell even one of the women on set, another of my former classmates who I’m rumored with. All just fluff, even they get giggles out of it.”

Brendan asked, “Boy Toy? They really looked at him and picked that?”

“Exactly his amusement. At least he didn’t take it as a demotion from Partner, just let them make up their own stories.”

On his own the title had been used by Brendan between takes with his scenes with Richard luring a blushing laugh from the lanky man meant to be towering over him helping to ease the tension from their scene, one of many of their battles of wills. By far helping to improve a friendship of sorts with one of his scene partners he spent the longest with aside from his fake family.

.

It was a Monday, like any other, but the big day had come, the day John’s heart and trust would shatter in Margaret and be seen with another man at night un-chaperoned in a loving embrace. The start of a trio of night shifts on the set had come and let Richard sneak in his plan. “Be right at the car, forgot my notepad.”

“Ok,” you said stepping out of the front door with his keys in hand, “I’ll start the car,” wiping your eyes still half asleep nothing seemed to be off in Richard’s double back to grab something, just what he needed. Post peek out the curtain on the window by the door he turned shifting the coat tucked in his arm hurrying to the spare bed. Off the top shelf high above where you could reach he pulled the two now wrapped ring boxes with notes on them. The one with the note for you he left in the center of the table with the second he settled in the cupboard above the fridge you wouldn’t bump into. Off the counter he grabbed the notepad tucking that under his arm to go and join your no doubt napping self already waiting for him in the car.

.

Betrayal was swiftly followed by refusal, in the brighter gray of the morning once the proposal turned argument with him storming right out of the set was the beginning and end of your shift. Ready to be out of your corset tears were close coming to blurring your vision for how emotional these scenes were and what you had to draw from to get to the reactions required. Out from the men’s wardrobe room eyes had shifted over Richard at his own anxious shuffling his way through getting dressed again and out to the hall to meet up to head home.

Awkward silence seemed to fall over the car between stops to pick up lunch from a fancier eatery than you frequented paired with a bottle of wine from there to go with the dinner. All the scents of the meal had you glancing over at Richard who glanced back with a flash of a wide smile then looked away again. “I think it went well today.” You squeaked out and he looked back with another smile.

“Everyone loved it. Yes, I think we really did the argument and the suspicion behind Frederick fleeing justice. Now we just have to do the hiding period where John can’t come inside only heightening things before the trips away to film the whole convention portion.”

“Ya, then we just have to kill off Mr Hale and do the whole Southern scenes before the big reunion scene at the station. Then I think it’s just more meddling from Mr Bell, right?”

“Yes, and your face off with John’s mother at the empty mill after my goodbye from Nicholas.” Again he looked you over asking, “You are enjoying this film?”

“Oh ya, no question about it. I mean I do miss the actual mental play by play from the book, especially John’s,” making him smirk at your hand tapping his arm, “You do impeccable with subtle things it’s just, I love the words it makes him so much more adorably soppy compared to his rough shell.”

“I get that,” he hummed back patting his hand on your knee not ready to take your hand to give away his thundering pulse. “I do love Margaret’s words over her own swooning. Plus I do miss the private moment where he clings to her after being struck in the head.”

A twinge more of the awkward was gone at his hand moving from the shifter to stroke his fingertips across your knee drawing shapes to distract himself ready to no longer have to live without the weight of that ring on his finger. This would be bold, insisting on wearing his ring as well for his own engagement ring and most likely could explode on the news when the press would catch onto the matching rings and assume that you had already run off and eloped. Which could be more likely in the next slew of auditions and the magazine spread you were to film that Peter had set up to your schedule for the cast of King Kong with another for you and Richard around the Beast of Bards film and its progress so far in theaters. But that all came after his having to ask the question.

You did as you always did, taking the bag of food while he grabbed the wine, sturdier hands when it came to glass he followed you inside. With a smirk he failed to hold back right across his face hidden by his turn to lock the door saying practically in a hum, “If you’ll set out the food I’ll pop the wine.”

Behind you he crept smiling wider on your path to the table, inside the kitchen he set the wine bag down leaving his coat beside it to sneak the cupboard open to grab the wrapped box he palmed. His eyes fixed on your back for full view of the pause you took eyeing the box on the center of the table beside the candleholder you didn’t notice he’d put out the night before along with the special table setting. Carefully the bag was set down and to the box you moved lifting the indigo ribbon wrapped box with white paper coated in blue floral outlines and a note. ‘Give me to Richy Bear.’ A heart was drawn beside the words and lifting the box that adorable puzzled smirk he loved spread across your face.

Nice and confused into the kitchen you walked finding him looking you over, smile split free as you held out the box, “This is for you?”

“Thank you, trade you, my Dearest Love.” He said accepting his box for the one in his hand identically wrapped. ‘I pick the wine, you chose the spoons, My Dearest Love.’

Watching him your eyes narrowed with hold of the puzzling box while he eased the ribbon off his to pull the side of the paper off. His smile wide in his glance up to say, “Don’t wait for me,” back to the box in your hands your eyes dropped and with your free hand the end of the ribbon was undone to set aside with the note left on the counter. Out of the side of the folded paper you eyed the box inside keeping the lid side upright unwrapping the rest of the paper set aside too.

Upon opening his wrapping paper Richard blinked eyeing the message that was meant to be on your box alone Chris must have written across both. ‘Marry Me?’ Lifting the lid he flashed your way he hummed out in a means to pretend this was planned, “Of course I’ll marry you!” Instantly your eyes shot up and the distance was closed while you read the lid he was holding. Eyes eased shut for a lingering kiss that in the thunder of your heart almost had your knees give out.

In the pull back his eyes dropped to your box reading the same message that your free hand moved to take the lid off in his silent hint, the smile inducing rock inside found you gently reaching in with your fingers to ease it out. A task taken slower in noticing the top lifting up while he dangled his pouch from around his thumb. Richard smiled taking the box away to let you hold the geode box you eased open revealing a velvet pouch.

You must have skipped a second because in the view of the box Richard appeared in your view now on his knee with hands tenderly folded around your wrist making shapes in your skin asking, “Will you go on this adventure with me?”

“I love adventures,” you wisped out making his smile split wider.

“Well then open the pouch.” He hummed with eyes following your hand in his timid rise hoping he was doing this all perfect for you to look back on for years to come in claiming the geode box when you lifted the pouch.

Wide eyed you gawked at the ring, “You did not buy this!”

Your eyes met his and he shook his head, “Nope, you did.”

“Oh really? And how did I do that?” You asked with an instant playful challenging smirk to his deepening smile.

“I didn’t hunt down the old owner of that cabinet over some pens and a music box.” He drew out his ring showing you that one while sharing, “Hercule thought he lost these rings in that house fire. The geode box was inside that cabinet and that contract I told you about was about these rings. They were scuffed up and I took them to get cleaned and appraised.”

“Rich, how much is this ring?”

“No less than you deserve.” Your lips parted and he smiled saying, “They both have spoon engraved inside.” Again your smile split awkwardly out across your face.

“That’s why you wrote that note on mine, like their story.”

“Exactly,” he wet his lips and reached for the ring on your palm along with your left hand, purring, “You don’t want to wear it?”

“Rich you didn’t have to buy me a ring.”

“Yes I did, I wanted a ring! Be rude not to get you one to match.”

“Will it even fit? It’s huge.”

“It fits, you nearly didn’t give it back when I tried it on your finger.” He said easing it back onto your finger with eyes shining brightly as he did to your gasp.

“Where was I when that happened?”

“Sleeping,” he chuckled leaning in to kiss you again, just melting around you at the loop of your arms around his neck for the celebratory embrace lasting even after the kiss had ended, for a close eyed hug to cling to one another.

“I would have woken up if you put this on me.”

That made him chuckle into your shoulder, “You almost did, rolled over burying your hand into the pillow. You like it?” He murmured inching back to see your face.

“I love it, it’s still huge though.” In front of you he dangled his pouch that you smirked in accepting, “This is your ring?”

He nodded and said, “Which I plan on wearing.”

“Today?” You asked with a smile and he nodded.

“Right here, right now and every day from here out. You bought it for me and I intend on boasting endlessly.” Once out of the pouch this ring widened your eyes as well and he lifted his hand saying, “They’re absurdly big compared to what I could have afforded until Bard is out of theaters. But you have to admit, fifteen bucks for these second hand suits us.” Up his finger the ring slid and came to rest and he said, “If you must know, both are 24 karat white gold. My center emerald is seven carats and the onyx and diamonds are a half a carat each. While your emerald is eight carats and the diamonds and smaller emeralds are one carat each. That’s all I’m telling you about them, other than the jewelers I went to said when you want we could go there to design your wedding band, on which I was clueless.” He looked you over in your moment of pause, “What are you thinking for bands?”

“Well, my cousin we went to her wedding,” which he nodded at remembering the ceremony at the courthouse and party on the family land while you were filming Elektra before her husband shipped out so he could leave her charge of his property that wouldn’t go to his family. “She picked one of those eternity bands with hearts, I did like that design.”

His grin eased out again, “That sounds beautiful.”

“Though hers was nearly three grand,”

“Don’t you worry about the price. I have money saved up, money is not an issue.” His hands eased on your hips to draw you closer to his chest, “I know getting through school was so difficult, I’ve been scraping by too for a decade before I had even met you finding what I loved. I will always do my best to ensure that we have a solid financial footing, and I do know you are getting paid crazy amounts of money for your roles. Even if I never get another check like off of Bards, I will be here, and I will never use that as any sort of,” he sighed and said after wetting his lips. “I am so proud of you, and where some men may feel they have to be the bread winner even if you out earn me I will never let that get between us. And I will do all I can to make you not feel like you can’t depend on me to help fund our lives.”

“I never thought that. I would never.”

“I know, but it may come up for others, I couldn’t afford this ring on my own if not for having found it, but I do hope one day comfortably I might be able to afford one half as much as this without worry on bills around it once this Bard money is gone. So you pick the band you want and we’ll get it for you. If it helps your dad loves the rings.”

“How did you show him?”

“Sent him a picture when I got them cleaned. And I bet you he’s shown them around.”

“No wonder his voice has been squeaking, you made him wait months! And where the hell did you get that geode box?”

He chuckled again, “They were both in the geode box, they were scuffed up from it when I found it, so that’s why I left yours in the pouch. I’m gonna open the wine.”

“Right,” you said breaking your smile up at him, “Food,” you said turning back to setting the table for the start of the rest of the romantic evening until it was bedtime. Calls to family put a lot of people out of their joint misery and kicking the plans into a slow grind for what and when you might want a ceremony to be. And in cleaning up came the start of an adorable habit where you would tap his side or arm to say with a smile, “We’re getting married,” or “Fiancé,” always splitting a massive smile across his face in his move to scoop you up for a loving kiss and tons of cuddles.

That evening for another shoot however you stood looking at your ring through cooking before heading out, “We wear them to work, right? I mean we have those lockers, they seem pretty sturdy with cameras.”

“Other actors wear jewelry to work, we will be safe wearing them.”

The fact proven to be true from the sight of the new rings security took mental notes to mark you among the cast working with jewelry to have that locker room under surveillance ensuring that it remained off limits to those not assigned there. Cameras stationed outside the studio however with view of the parking garage on the way in and out honed in on the new sparkle on your finger mirrored by his in a wave to them upped the shadows on the path out the morning after.

Pt 38

Hobbit – Soulmate - @evyiione​​, @deepestfirefun, @rhaenaatargaryen, @anastasialovers

X all Rich. A - @abiwim​, @deepestfirefun​, @thestorybookmistress

X Lee P - @tigereyesf​

All –

@himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess​​, @aspiringtranslator​​, @thegreyberet​​, @patanghill17​​, @jesgisborne​​, @curvestrology​​, @alishlieb​​, @jogregor​​, @armitageadoration​​, @fizzyxcustard​​, @lilith15000​​, @marvels-ghost​​, @catthefearless​​, @imjusthereforthereads​​, @c-s-stars​​, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​​, @mariannetora​​, @shes-a-killer-kween​, @ggbbhehe4455

#Pouting #Premier #Time Apart #Sharing of Plans #North and South Filming #Time in England #Living Together Again #The Proposal #Richard Armitage x Reader OC