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jilytho · 3 years

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strangers in a bar

Happy Jilytober!!!! "speaking of mothers, fancy becoming one?" cocky James meets Lily in a bar

Read below or on AO3

Longest day of work. Followed by the longest train ride. Followed by pushing through a throng of thousands of people seemingly with all the time in the world when she was already twenty five minutes late to meet Mary for a drink. All topped off with a venmo and message from Mary right as she was finally sitting down on a barstool ordering her wine.

Sorry love, just got a massive order, going to be here all night. Have a glass of vino on me!

Lily rejected the venmo immediately, of course. Mary’s bakery had just got off the ground and Lily knew how important orders were for her at that stage and there was no need to take her money. She’d drink her wine and get home in time for Bake Off reruns, not a bad day all in all. She signaled the bartender to close out her tab afterall and opened up Bumble. If she was going to sit here alone, might as well swipe on some potential matches.

“He’s a loser.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“He’s a loser.” the man repeated, shifting fully to face her, leaning his side against the bar. She hadn’t noticed him before but he must have been sitting somewhere along the bar.

“Who is?”

His glass was empty and even as his body was turned towards hers, his eyes remained focused on the bartender, signaling towards his glass and nodding towards her near empty one as well. It wasn’t until the bartender had nodded back to him and begun to grab bottles that he turned to look into her eyes. Dark hazel, thick tortoise frames, tousled hair, beautifully chiseled jaw.

“Whatever sorry tosser left you sitting here on a barstool all by your lonesome.”

“What exactly makes you think I’m here because of a boy? Can’t a girl just go get a drink by herself?” she wrapped her fingers around the newly filled wine glass and avoided eye contact, taking a sip.

“I’ll make you forget his name”

She spluttered into her drink and looked at him incredulously but he held her gaze steadfast, unwaveringly confident.

“You’re pretty presumptuous, aren’t you?”

“I prefer the term confident.”

“Mmmm a narcissist's favorite excuse.”

“You know what they say about narcissists,”

“That they’ll never love another more than they love themselves?”

He scoffed, “Sure, or that it typically doesn’t come unearned.”

“Not only is that literally not a saying but what I have heard is that lying to yourself can be even worse than narcissism. Causes premature wrinkles.”

“Please, look at us. Barely a wrinkle between the pair.”

“That’s because I’m honest. Never told a lie.”

“Now is that so?”

“Yep.” She punctuated the p sharply, smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as she leaned back in her chair.

“So now if I were to ask if you were attracted to me, you’d have no choice but to tell me the truth,” he leaned in closer, eyes sparkling down at her.

“Now see, I don’t lie,” she dropped her voice to a whisper and leaned in closer, “but my mother also taught me that if I don’t have anything nice to say, I shouldn’t say anything at all. So perhaps it’s better if I bite my tongue on that one.”

He laughed earnestly, warmly, head thrown back in a way that filled her with immediate satisfaction, warmth spreading across her chest.

“Wow. Beautiful, clever, and cruel. You really were made for me, weren’t you? C’mon now, loosen that quick tongue for just a second. Tell me what you really think.”

She leaned back in her chair and made a show of looking him up and down, eyes slowly trailing his entire figure. He practically loomed over her as he remained standing, leaning closer and closer down over her seated figure. And damn if he wasn’t ridiculously fit. And exactly her type. Dark blue button down tight across his shoulders, sleeves sinfully rolled up to his elbows, seamlessly pressed grey trousers.

“Well, if I were to speak purely objectively,” he leaned in closer and nodded.

“You’re pretty fit.” His entire face lit up, pleased and smug, whole body shifting slightly closer to her as she leaned in closer. “Shame about the personality, though. Really ruins the whole vibe.”

He threw his hands over his heart and winced, “You wound me, deeply.”

“You asked! Don’t ask for the truth if you can’t take it, another lesson from my mother.”

“Well you can blame my mother for my inability to take criticism. While yours taught you sensible things like to only say the nicest and most truthful and deeply hurtful things, mine taught me that I had invented and then hung the moon and therefore the rest of the world existed because and for me.”

“Poor woman, she must have been deluded early on. A face only a mother could love and what not.”

“Prefer to think it’s the ‘what not’ part of it all. Speaking of mothers, fancy becoming one?”

She choked on her drink. He patted halfheartedly in between her shoulders - and no she did not notice how his hand was so big it spanned practically completely across her shoulders and why is that even attractive? - and passed her a napkin.

“I don’t mean tonight, of course, if that’s what you’ve stopped breathing over,” his pats turned to a light rub along her back. “I just thought maybe you’d like some additional practice.”

Her eyes narrowed as she regained control over her breathing and she twisted in her chair, forcing his hand to drop off her back, immediately missing the contact.

“I don’t go home with presumptuous and cocky boys.” Her words were biting, although traitorous butterflies were still running rampant in her stomach from their brief point of contact.

“Well, do you go to dinner with them?” His tone turned polite, mild even, as if they were discussing the weather and he hadn’t just offered to father a child with her. “Or maybe lunch or coffee? Coffee might be more the cocky guy from the bar date but really I’m partial to dinner.”

“Are you pleased with this turn of conversation?” she spat through gritted teeth, “Seriously, are you happy with how you’ve handled this?”

“I’m talking to you so I’m happy. And I’m happy I said whatever I said that gave you this lovely flush you have now,” his finger traced up from her neck to brush her cheek lightly as if tracing the blush, sending tingles shooting down her spine.

He caught her eye and her mouth went dry. Deep hazel, flickered with gold, filled with something that looked eerily close to hunger.

“I’m James, by the way. I feel like we might be on a first name basis now that I’ve asked you to join me for essentially every kind of meal.”

“Charmed, really,” she waved two fingers towards the bartender until he nodded in acknowledgement and moved to pour her another drink and ignored the traitorous conscience in the back of her brain screaming that she was only meant to be here for one.

“This is usually when you’d tell me your name, if you’re new to this,” he had leaned down to whisper the words in her ears, hot breath on her ear, one inch closer and his lips would be on her.

She chewed on her lip momentarily, hearing Mary’s voice screaming louder and louder in her head about letting loose as it spoke over the whispering voice of her mother reminding her that this was a strange man.

“Evans. Lily Evans,” she spoke into her drink and took a deep swig.

“Evans. I like it.”

She scoffed at him, eyes narrowing in on him instantly, “so glad you approve.”

“I do, really. Lily Evans. Rolls off the tongue, truly. But you know what might sound even better?”

He sat down on the barstool next to her now - finally, a voice in her head whispered as they were now perfectly aligned eye to eye - and tugged it closer to sit closer to her own. She tilted her head slightly, silently requesting he continue.

“Potter. Lily Potter.”

Her eyes narrowed instantly, “and I suppose Potter is what, the name of a good friend of yours?”

“I do consider my father a good friend so yes, I suppose in a way.”

“Dinner, a child, marriage. You’re really willing to commit to living a full life with a random girl in a bar. For all you know I could be a murderer. A serial killer. A lying, nefarious, arsonist with a family in three different counties wreaking havoc and crime along the countryside.” His eyes never wavered from hers as she ranted, crinkling in the corners, drinking her in and practically sparkling.

“What can I say, Miss. Evans, I trust my gut. And my gut says that if you truly are a lying, nefarious, philandering woman with likely multiple warrants out for her arrest, well then I guess I’ll be the Clyde to your Bonnie.”

Their heads were barely two inches apart, she could feel the warmth of his breath as his hand ghosted along to cover her own that rested on the bartop.

“Alright then, Clyde.” The words came out as a faint whisper, “You’ll probably be needing my number then. To organize our crime spree and what not.”

His grin overtook his face, eyes somehow turning more beautiful as they sparkled at her, “and what not, yes I think that’s for the best.”

She turned away from him and reached into her purse fishing out a pen, not allowing herself to think through her actions or words for another second, lest she hesitate. She scribbled her number on a paper coaster and stood up before turning to look at him, just barely taller than him for the first time that night. He sat there, perfectly patient, quieter than he had been all night.

She passed the coaster to him wordlessly, a fresh blush flaming up the back of her neck as his hand brushed hers to take the coaster and held her hand, not letting her pull back just yet. “It’s been a pleasure, Bonnie.”

“Likewise, Clyde.”

She squeezed his hand once before slipping away and out the door without another look, knowing that just seeing his face again would make her go back and go home with him that night instead of waiting for his call.

She had walked two doors down from the bar when her phone began to vibrate in her purse. She fished it out and pressed it against her ear while hailing a cab, assuming it was Mary checking in.

“Hello?”

“Go to dinner with me tomorrow night, Bonnie.” She almost dropped her phone in surprise at the deep voice that was decidedly not Mary.

“Don’t know,” She croaked out, “I thought coffee was the more appropriate meal for a cocky stranger in a bar.”

He chuckled lightly, “Maybe. But we’re not really strangers anymore are we? I even know your name now.”

“Alright then,” she breathed out as a cab pulled up, “dinner it is. It’s a date.”

She hung up without hearing his reply, swinging herself into the cab. She looked down at her phone’s call log, considering saving his contact when a Bumble alert came through with a match.

She didn’t hesitate, without looking at the match she deleted the app entirely.

#jily #jily au #jilytho #mywriting #james potter #lily evans #james is a cocky pos #happy jilytober #jilytober

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mokuhchi-manuscripts · 3 years

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Spring troupe (separately) finding notes in their pockets from their s/o reminding them to take care of themselves and that they love them?

A/N: I wrote this as if it was an event that happened regularly! Hope that’s what you meant :) Also I loved writing this so much! This request was so cute, thank you so much anon ;^; Also Masumi has abandonment issues bc I said so and it makes a lot of sense with his character. And apologies Citron’s is the shortest, I’m still working on figuring out his character tbh

CW(s): slight mention of abandonment issues for Masumi

❀ Sakuya Sakuma

He’d be beyond himself when he found the first one

He blushes really hard whenever he reads them you’ve almost pavloved him into blushing every time he feels a piece of paper in his pocket

After a couple times of finding a note, he’ll definitely look forward to days where he finds them

He doesn’t do anything like run to his hoodie and check all his clothes everyday but when he happens to find one it always brings a smile to his face

He’d definitely text you to say thank you and respond with his own small message

He especially needs the reminders to take care of himself during spring though, as theatre takes up so much of his mind and he can get easily preoccupied

Sakuya sat outside in the courtyard, reviewing his script for the nth time. A cool breeze passed through and tousled his hair. He placed a hand in his hoodie pocket, not wanting to get cold; as soon as he reached in he felt a scrap of paper scrape against his hand. Sakuya immediately began to blush and quickly pulled out the paper.

"Reminder to eat today! Hope you have a great day and good luck with rehearsals <3"

He couldn’t help but let a giant grin spread across his face. Then the realization that he hadn’t eaten yet hit him. Omi had just been out not too long ago, or so he thought, to remind him dinner was ready. Sakuya had responded that he’d be there momentarily, but got distracted by the new script.

He quickly got up and began to make his way to the kitchen and dining room. There at the table he saw a handful of the Mankai Company members, including Omi.

“There you are! I was about to go remind you again dinner was ready.”

“Sorry, I got distracted. What did you cook today?”

Omi shook his head. “I didn’t. Izumi did.” Sakuya nodded in acknowledgement, knowing exactly what that meant,

“It’s alright. Now sit down and eat!” Sakuya grabbed a plate and served himself some curry and found a place at an empty seat. He pulled the note out from his pocket again, reading and rereading it again and again just like he did with every note.

After he ate dinner he made sure to text you a thank you.

❀ Tsuzuru Minagi

The first time he found a note he was shocked; he didn’t really have enough time to process it as he was on his way to one of his part-time jobs but during his shift he continued to fumble as he couldn’t get it off his mind

Tsuzuru reached into his pocket for a pen, fingers crossed he didn’t forget one to his server job. He quickly found the writing utensil, but next to it he could feel a scrap of paper. He figured it must have been a reminder he wrote for himself that he forgot about. He pulled the small piece out of his pocket and froze in his tracks once he read it. It wasn’t a note he had written for himself, instead it was a note you had written for him.

"Remember that I care about you and don't forget to take care of yourself today!"

He could barely register the words as he read them, but the immediate emotion he felt was absolute love for you.

He most likely finds any note on his way to a college class or while working one of his part-time jobs

If he finds one while he’s with a member of the Mankai company he probably won’t read it as he prefers to read them when he’s alone since they’re personal and special to him

He tries to keep them but sometimes he just gets disorganized so he may accidentally throw them away; he still has at least half though

He tries his best to follow the notes when they’re reminders (e.g. eating when you remind him to eat) as he doesn’t want to somehow accidentally disappoint you

He definitely needs the reminders when he’s writing scripts as he will not step away from his computer once it comes time for another play; if you leave him a note to eat or drink water there’s a higher chance he’ll at least eat something small or take some sips of water

Since he’s someone who tends to look out for other people, knowing someone is looking after him just makes him incredibly happy

❀ Masumi Usui

He froze as soon as he opened the first note he received as he could barely think; his thoughts were too full of his love for you and he didn’t want it any other way

He probably immediately texted you as soon as he reads it to tell you he loves you and has continued to text you a thank you or ‘ily’ every time he gets a note and decides to check on you in the same message

He loves checking his jackets after he sees you to see if you’ve left a note; and once Tsuzuru told you he checks you started leaving them after every time you went over

He keeps all the notes in a jar on his desk; just seeing them all collected in one place brings a smile to his face

Whenever he feels lonely, or his abandonment issues act up, he brings the jar up to his bed and reads them one by one

Masumi sat in his desk chair, exasperated. He had messaged you a couple times throughout the day and you hadn’t responded despite looking at his messages and he was growing concerned. His mind was beginning to race and he began to assume and fear the worst. Then the jar on his desk caught his eye. He carefully grabbed it, tucked it under one arm, and climbed up to his bed. There he unscrewed the lid and one by one pulled out and read each and every note he had ever gotten from you.

“Reminder that I love you!’

“Remember to eat and drink water <3”

“(ღ˘⌣˘)♥ love you!”

“This song made me think of my feelings for you- Stupid for You by Waterparks <3”

“Good luck with rehearsal today! (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)"

Tears began to well in his eyes and he made sure to wipe them away with the back of his hand, lest he ruin one of the precious notes with his tears. Never had he felt so loved before you, and he mentally noted to tell you how much he appreciated you the next time he saw you.

After having dealt with his parents not being there and growing up with no friends, he values you and your reminders an immense amount

He may try to leave you notes as well, but he’d much rather express his love for you in person

❀ Itaru Chigasaki

The first time he found one of your notes, he was overwhelmed with love for you; he could practically see the ‘+10’ affection points above his head as he read it

Itaru probably finds the notes once he’s at work if you put them in his jacket

His morning is much too hectic to be able to read it while at the dorms, so he tends to read it every time he drains his LP (yes, every time; your notes brighten his day)

Itaru stepped away from his desk. He had been watching the clock as his lunch hour ticked closer and closer, and once the time was reached, he made his way out of the office. Once he got to his car and began to drain his LP, he reached into his pocket to pull out the note you had left in his pocket that morning.

"Don’t forget to refill your stats! Remember to eat something and drink water, and keep in mind that ily <3"

He couldn't help but smile at the note, unlocking his phone to both drain his LP and to message you a quick thank you in response to your nerdy reminder.

If you use gamer lingo or nerdy references in the notes he will be positively enamored

He tends to just put them somewhere in a designated desk drawer, sometimes taping his favorites down to the top of the desk to make sure they don’t get lost and to see them while he games

If he’s streaming and he sees one of the notes on his desk out of the corner of his eye, he always ends up smiling and tends to have a habit of taking a drink of water when he sees one

If you leave a note in his gaming sweatshirt, it may take a bit for him to find it but when he does he’s very grateful -even though he has a smaller chance of actually listening to it-

At times when he’s very preoccupied, he may forget that you leave him notes at all so it’s like a new surprise all over again

❀ Citron

He was incredibly happy when he received his first note from you

After the first note he received, he began leaving notes for you as well

Sometimes the notes can be hard to decipher due to him forgetting and switching up words but it’s the thought that counts

You had left a note on Citron’s desk the night before, and when you arrived at the dorm the next day he thanked you for it and gave you a tight hug. While you were there he was telling stories of his home country. He spoke of the food, the towns, and his pet Juliano.

Eventually it began to get dark and you had to bid your boyfriend a farewell. He gave you a kiss on your cheek as you departed, and offered a smile and wave as you exited out the door.

Once outside the bitter winds nipped at your skin, so you placed your hands in your pockets in an attempt to keep them warm. But once you did so, you could feel a scrap of paper scratch against your fingertips. You quickly pulled it out, wondering what it could be. You unfolded it and there in familiar handwriting you found the following note:

"Remember that I am loving you always! Have a safe trip home and do not forget to crink water!!"

You could assume he meant ‘drink’ instead of ‘crink’. His struggle with language definitely found its way into the notes he gave you, but if anything it made him that much more endearing. On your way home, you made sure to buy a bottle of water.

His notes may sometimes come off as nonsensical due to his issues with language

If you really need help translating it, just ask another troupe member and they should be able to help

He doesn’t check his pockets for notes since he loves the surprise of finding them

❀ Utsuki Chikage

The first time he found a note in his pocket he felt so happy and appreciated it more than anything, although you wouldn’t have been able to tell if you were there due to his amazing poker face

Chikage has guilt and baggage and the fact that you stay with him amazes him, but he’s so grateful

After reading them he does throw the notes away, not because he doesn’t like them, but because they feel so special to him he doesn’t want anyone else to have the opportunity to read the words you wrote especially for him

Because of this, he does his best to memorize them

It was originally difficult to know if he was even finding the notes since he’d never let you know or anything of that such

You had been leaving notes in your boyfriend’s pockets for months now. They were simple notes, things such as, ‘Don’t forget to eat today!’ or ‘Remember I care about you and like you no matter your past’. It shouldn't have made you so nervous that you couldn’t tell if Chikage had actually found them, or if he found them annoying, but knots of anxiety were developing in your stomach. So you decided to call him.

He picked up on the fourth ring, “Chikage Utsuki speaking.”

“Hey, Chikage.”

“Oh, hello. To what may I offer the pleasure of this call?”

“Um,” you paused, collecting your thoughts, “so, I’ve been leaving these little..notes? In your pockets? And I was just curious if you had gotten them or if you found them annoying because if you do I can stop-” a laugh on the other side cut you off. “What? What’s so funny?”

Chikage continued to chuckle, “No, I’ve found them.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, like he didn’t want anyone else but you to hear, “I really appreciate them. Thank you.”

“Oh! Well I’m glad.” you were almost positive Chikage could hear your smile through the phone.

“Was that all?”

“Yeah, sorry. I’ll see you later. Bye!”

“Goodbye.” the click of the end call button rang in your ears, but you couldn’t help but continue to smile.

After a while, it’s easier to tell when he has recently read a note as he may come off as somewhat more affectionate but whether he does it on purpose or not you can’t completely tell

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bjy-on-ao3 · 3 years

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(1/2) Heyy, thanks for your reply, and sorry it took me a while to put my request together but here it is: Reader is a shy naiad/nymph who often attends Dionysus' parties, one day he throws a party for Ares, perhaps post-victory celebration. Ares is still in war mode (when is he not lol) and his mood is affecting the other party-goers, so much so that it starts disrupting the party (fights breaking out and what not). Dio wants people to start having fun again so he coaxes reader into helping ares uhhhh 'destress', maybe makes her drink a little ambrosia/wine to loosen up(two birds one stone y'know, he gets reader out of their shell as well). Of course *Dio* joins in the 'festivities' too bc can't be letting ares have all the fun dkkd.

(As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)

I’ve wanted to attempt this request for a while now, but I needed some study into certain parts of it I wasn’t familiar with. I hope y’all enjoy the fic nonetheless and my bits of inexperience in certain portions don’t show overmuch!

(Note: There is no Ares/Dionysus in this fic & this is featuring the characters from the Hades game, if that weren't clear already.)

Summary

During a post-war celebration, the God of War gets a bit out of control, making tempers run hot. With Ares’ bloodlust infecting the party and threatening to ruin it by becoming a brawl, Dionysus enlists Reader’s aid to help his brother wind down. Though he isn’t one to be left out of the fun either.

Tags/Warnings

Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal S*x, Biting, Blood, Creampie, Double Penetration, Drunk S*x, Hand Jobs, Nymph Reader, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Rough S*x, Shameless Smut, Slight Breathplay, Stomach Bulge, Threesome, Vaginal S*x, Voyeurism

Party Foul (Ares/F! Reader/Dionysus)

The sound of raised voices and angry snarls sent you fleeing from the area most folks had gathered to celebrate. Though it was a fete held by a local town in honor of some glorious conquest of war, the atmosphere had been light and jovial to start. However, it hadn’t been long until several of the Olympian gods deigned to grace the celebration with their presence, many with small groups of followers of their own. Mostly, the gods only added to the cheerful mood, the victorious soldiers feeling even more invigorated and honored by their presence. Yet the presence of one god stoked a fire in the blood of many present, whether soldier or laborer or homemaker. Already high on the chaos and strife from previous battles laid to rest, Ares, god of war, brought with him a mood that was electric and infectious. His revel in the bloodshed had boosted his mood, working him into something close to a frenzy. A frenzy that seeped out among the crowd, even after he had left the immediate area. It made them quibble and quarrel amongst one another, escalating until those unaffected began to cautiously distance themselves, lest they be caught up in an impromptu fistfight or worse. Arriving in tow with one of the attending gods, as was common among your fellow nymphs, you had been reluctant, but still secretly excited to enjoy the celebration. You were more than willing to enjoy the captivating atmosphere of good humor and greater cheer, even if you weren’t quite so unphased as your brethren. But as the mood of the hour had grown sour and bitter, voices raised, several men had started physical fights. You had quickly balked and ran. Your flight had taken you to one of the small surrounding buildings, breathing a deep sigh of relief once the angry voices and shouts faded to something far more faint. Stopping, listening for a time, you willed your stammering heart to slow, at least until the sound of sandals drew your attention. You cast a wary glance over your shoulder, ready to run again before recognizing the broad figure behind you. Turning to face the god whom you had accompanied to the party, you opened your mouth to speak, only for him to cut you off. “Ah, perfect timing!” Dionysus’ smooth voice boomed. “C’mere, babe, I could use a little help.” “I-What is it, my Lord?” you asked, thrown off by how laid back he sounded, despite the faint ruckus not far off. You hadn’t spoken to him too much personally, his attention often taken by those more willing to vie for it. “You’re having a good time, yeah? I mean, before all… that,” he trailed off with a lazy gesture of his hand, showing his distaste for the brutish behaviour that had stirred up. “Oh, yes! Before that, absolutely,” you answered, nodding. “Fantastic! What do you say to livening things up a little then?” You couldn’t hold back the furrow of your brow. “Ah, it seems like the city folk have taken it upon themselves to do just that already… Not that I mean to say no, my Lord!” you added quickly. Dionysus grimaced at the reminder of the ongoing brawl growing nearby. “That’s.. Not quite the mood I’m looking for. That’s why I need a little help to cool things down,” he continued, the sour look quickly swept away. “Follow me babe; I promise it’ll be a good time.” “Alright,” you agreed with another acknowledging nod, thinking you would rather be further away from the fighting anyhow. “Great, this way then,” Dionysus gestured once more, this time the gesture more welcoming, an insistence for you to follow him. You followed quietly, giving a few idle glances around the building as he led you through it, down a long hall and to a secluded room. It seemed to be some kind of lavishly decorated bedroom or lounge, littered with chaises and sturdy chairs. Several sconces peppered the wall, giving it a warm, golden glow and leaving nary a corner of the room cast into darkness. On several tables sat platters of breads and cheese, eggs, fruit, and even one of various meats, flanked with several chalices and vessels of what you assumed wine and other spirits. Dionysus stopped at the

door, giving you a gentle push into the room while he waited before the doorway. “Wait here for a minute, babe, I’ll be right back,” he assured you with a grin. Uncertain exactly what it was Dionysus required of you - given who you were dealing with, you had ideas, of course, but one could never be completely sure - you did as you were told. You settled yourself on the edge of one chaise, eyeing one of the more impressive looking vessels on the tables. You decided against having a taste from it, deeming it better to just wait until Dionysus returned. After a few minutes that dragged on, the sound of footsteps drew near once more - this time more than just one set, the additional footsteps heavier than the first. Dionysus reappeared in the doorway, stepping into the room, followed by another man who could only be another god, judging by the broad breadth of his shoulders and chest and the fearsome, bloody red eyes that fell on you. You recognized him instantly - the god of chaos and war was hard to forget, after all - and most you knew gave him a wide berth. It wasn’t so much that he was unpredictable that concerned most people, rather that his fondness for war and violence was exceptionally predictable. You suppressed the urge to rise from your seat and make some hasty excuse to retreat, not fond of the wild-eyed excitement painted on the new god’s face that seemed barely held under control, or the nearly tangible aura around him that made your skin prickle. Despite being dressed in less warlike attire than the armor he often wore and was well known for, Ares was still large and imposing. The addition of several blades remaining strapped or tied here and there did little to dull that impression. You looked to Dionysus, seeking distraction from Ares’ entrance, wondering what business he had that involved you and also required Ares. “What was it you needed my help for again, Lord Dionysus?” you piped up as you watched him coax Ares into reposing on another chaise some distance away. Walking back to you, Dionysus eyed you for a second, and then his eyes flickered back to his brother, who seemed a bit more mild, though still impatient and worked up. “You saw the scuffle outside, yeah, babe?” he asked easily, seeming hardly put off by Ares’ frightening aura. You nodded silently, feeling as if he wasn’t quite done speaking. “Old Ares over there got a bit overexcited, and it’s really killing the mood,” Dionysus complained, tone dipping slightly in annoyance at the idea of a ruined mood, heaving a small sigh. “He could stand to… wind down, if you catch my meaning.” You weren’t dull, and catch his meaning you did quickly, looking to Ares. “Oh,” you said quietly, feeling more apprehension rise. Ares was appealing enough, you couldn’t deny that, but he was also nearly as frightful. “What do you say, babe? Think you can convince him to relax?” As carefree as Dionysus sounded, he still seemed aware of your worry, too. “If you’re feelin’ nervous, I’ve got a little something that might just help you out.” He reached for one of the more ornate vessels on the table before pouring some of the liquid into a goblet. The liquid was a rich, royal purple, some kind of wine that seemed to smoke faintly, though the scent that wafted from it was heady and sweet. “I promised it’d be a good time, right? Just drink this and trust me, babe.” Fickle though most gods were, from your experience Dionysus was trustworthy enough for his words to be reassuring. The wine in the cup would no doubt deal away with any lingering uncertainties as well. You considered the cup for a moment more, giving a second half-nod and reaching to take it from Dionysus’ hold. You drained it quickly, far quicker than you might have under normal circumstances. Now was not the time to sip and recline. You needed whatever aid that wine might offer. For several passing, heavy moments, your nerves remained. But a warm, gentle buzz crept up, drowning your concerns out until they were naught but an indistinct drone in the back of your head. A warmth starting in your

cheeks spread down your neck and chest, leaving you suddenly less stiff, less concerned by Ares’ menace. The prospect of helping him ‘relax’, as Dionysus had so casually suggested, became less frightening by the second. As if he could tell how quickly his special wine had taken effect - you guessed it was more likely he knew how potent it was - Dionysus grinned. He extended a hand to help you to your feet, and you took it without a second thought. In the past, you had heard alcohol referred to as ‘liquid courage’, though you imagined that was regarding mortal drink. You didn’t think any mortal wine could have so put you at ease quite so speedily as what you had just drank. Yet, despite the potency of the alcohol, you were easily able to remain steady on your feet, even without Dionysus’ help. “Well, go on, babe,” Dionysus urged you nonchalantly. “Don’t want this party to go downhill anymore, do we?” With a gentle shake of your head, you released Dionysus’ hand, and swept past him, towards Ares from where he watched with vague interest. The warmth and confidence granted to you spread further, growing strong, whisking away the last tatters of your nerves and leaving a need to please behind. You noted that even though Ares showed some interest, he seemed restless, as if he would much rather be out among the ruckus he had unintentionally - you assumed - incited. “I’ve been told you're in need of some relaxation, my Lord,” you said in a tone you hoped was alluring. Ares scrutinized you for a silent moment from his seat, sipping something from a goblet of his own. Though the scent that drifted from his was far more potent and acrid. “Is that so?” Ares’ speech was much more calm and composed than you had expected, a striking contrast to the roiling expression in his eyes. His sharp gaze flicked to Dionysus where you had left him. He had settled onto another of the many chaises, indulging in his own drink already and looking as if he wasn’t paying you any further mind. “Very well,” Cutting red eyes turned back to you, and a shiver of anxiety you had thought drowned in wine shot through you. But you pushed the feeling away, calling on the courage bestowed on you by that same drink. “But first, off with those,” Ares demanded, gesturing with a nod of his head to your clothing. Quick to obey, your fingers flashed to your belt, undoing it and tossing it aside. Your fingers shook a little, yet you didn’t feel as if fear or worry were the cause now. Next came your tunic, pulled over your head as gracefully as you could manage, left to join your belt. At last, only your breast band remained, and you doubted it was exempt from Ares’ command. So if came off, too, leaving you stark nude in front of him. Were it not for the potency of the draught Dionysus had given you, you were sure your stripping would have been a clumsy mess, but even with your trembling touch, it had felt easy. “Now, come here, then,” the tone of Ares’ voice hardly changed, remaining thunderous and even, as if you had little effect on him. You moved until you were within reach, and Ares closed the rest of the distance between you, grabbing you by the wrist and thigh and pulling you onto his lap. Even in your pleasant haze, the sudden, unsettled motion struck you, and you sat still for a few seconds, trying not to blink owlishly at him. A ghost of a grin curled Ares’ lips, and he waited expectantly. Large, hard hands lingered on your skin. They shifted, and you flinched reflexively, and Ares’ smile showed a slight flash of teeth, as if he was enjoying the tension, however brief. “Don’t keep the man waiting, babe,” drifted Dionysus’ voice from his chaise. Apparently, he was paying more attention it had initially appeared. Shaking yourself out of your surprised stupor, you licked your lips and tried to relax again. You bent forward, planting your hands firmly on the front of Ares’ tunic and crushing your lip to his. The taste of whatever sharp, potent liquid he had been drinking met you head on, mingling with something pleasantly earthy and overwhelming the

lingering sweetness from the wine Dionysus had plied you with. There was a soft clunk as he set down his drink somewhere nearby, and his reaction was swift, pushing roughly back into the kiss and nipping harshly at your lower lip. One hand tangled in your hair, his grip stinging, preventing you from retreating. The other wasn’t to be left idle, sweeping over your form, grabbing rough handfuls of your ass or thighs or chest as it wandered. A cruel, full bite to your lip made you hiss and gasp, opening the seal of your lips well wide enough for Ares to thrust his tongue between them. When it twined itself with yours, it was as fierce as his kiss, waging a battle rather than taking part in what was for many a sensual dance. The hand roaming your body shifted to the small of your back, pushing your hips down into his, ensuring you felt the fruits of your effort to entice him, already straining beneath his clothes, hard and hot even through them. Ares pulled away, allowing you to catch your breath and taste blood as it trickled from your savaged bottom lip. Your tongue slipped out once more, re-wetting your lips and gathering the stray beads of blood. Something like amusement had overtaken Ares’ wild-eyed gaze. “What an obedient little nymph you have brought, brother,” he said smoothly, clearly addressing Dionysus, though his attention remained fixed on you, taking a more thorough measure of your form spread across his lap. Something you couldn’t quite place flashed through the cutting red for an instant before he spoke again, and you couldn’t contain another shiver. “How much can such a fragile creature handle, I wonder,” he mused, the hand that had captured your head sliding down and lightly skimming over your neck briefly. Another shudder wracked you, less noticeable this time, and your breath caught in your chest. “Come now, nymph, let us see.” Quickly, Ares was on you again, leaning forward in his seat, pressing you more insistently into his lap before the same hand dug into your hair again, pulling and directing until you were bent back at his mercy. As before, Ares didn’t try to be soft or considerate, nipping at your lips again and wrestling your tongue into writhing submission. The warm, encouraging strength of the brew Dionysus had supplied made the lines between arousal and fear bubbling beneath the surface warp and twist, and you weren’t sure which was surging from the less than gentle treatment. Small moans and gasps previously smothered by Ares’ mouth and tongue broke free when he moved away again, licking his lips. He didn’t waste time, though, moving down your throat just as aggressively as he had kissed you. Sharp bites and soon-to-be bruises left a burning path across your jaw and throat. A deep, satisfied hum rolled through Ares when he was met with hisses and groans in response. Though his actions were careless and painful, there was pleasure in them, too, stoking a growing heat in you as if each touch of his lips and teeth and tongue infused you with the excited heat of bloodlust that filled the war god. You rolled your body toward his harsh attentions, bare core grinding against the eager hardness tucked beneath his clothes. A dark laugh tickled your skin, and you cracked your eyes open to spy an amused expression gracing Ares’ face. They snapped shut again to absorb the myriad mix of pain and pleasure as he assaulted your skin all over again. Somehow, his mouth on your skin felt so hot, even though you were sure your entire body was already aflame. So caught up in Ares’ attentions, you paid no mind to what had become of Dionysus. He lay eyeing the entire spectacle while he reclined languidly on his own chaise. Had you realized, it would have come as no surprise that the hedonistic god was fond of watching. And for a time, Dionysus was content to do just that - watch - his eyes glued to your reactions from his brother’s touch. But it wasn’t long before looking alone wasn’t enough, and his hand drifted to his lap, palming an erection of his own and stroking it through the fabric. Ares withdrew

again, allowing another short reprieve from his onslaught of mouth and hand. You followed him, moving your hands from his chest to his lap. A tiny part of you urged you to trace the outline of his erection beneath his clothes, to take your time. Yet another, far louder, more sensible part suggested that Ares wouldn’t likely take too kindly to a light and teasing touch. You abandoned the notion, ignoring the dull sting of the marks Ares had bit and sucked into your skin. You pushed his lappets away instead, and his cock stood free and stiff before you, almost as imposing as its owner. Rather than taking the time to admire him, you wrapped a hand around his thick cock, rewarded with a deep, primal sound. Ares’ head tilted back for a moment, basking in your hand slipping up and down his length. You squeezed a little harder as you stroked him, and Ares groaned; a husky, growling noise that went straight to your cunt. You didn’t hear the footsteps approaching closer and closer behind you, nor did you catch the motion sweeping toward you. You only realized Dionysus’ suddenly much closer present when Ares tipped his head forward and cast his eyes past you. A brief glimpse of annoyance flitted across his face, quickly erased as you continued to fondle his cock. “Inviting yourself to join in, brother?” Ares asked, and part of you was almost disappointed to hear how collected and smooth his tone sounded, as if you weren’t touching him at all, nor as if he had set upon you like a wild beast before that. Your pace slowed, but didn’t stop as you twisted as far as you could to look back over your shoulder. You found Dionysus standing in front of Ares’ chaise, his own excitement easily noticeable beneath his flowing tunic. “Can’t very well resist a show like this,” Dionysus excused shamelessly with a shrug. Something told you this was hardly the first time he had intruded on someone else’s carnal moments. Or perhaps his eternally relaxed attitude only gave off that sense. “You’ll just have to learn to share.” Your glance flicked from one to the other, expecting Ares to look more irritated at Dionysus’ casual decree, but he seemed to brush it off with a short, dismissive hum. His focus returned to you, deciding you more worthy of his time. He swiped your hand away from his cock, shifting you in his lap with both hands. You barely registered the sound of rustling of cloth behind you, completely distracted as Ares positioned you properly over him. He didn’t bother taking his time easing himself inside, jerking your hips down and bucking his upward. You stiffened immediately, biting your abused lip at the sudden stretching, aching sting as he filled you completely. You clawed at the fabric of the chaise, taking a deep, quivering breath. Fortunately, the wine and, somehow, Ares’ rough handling had left you limber and wet enough that the stretch of Ares’ cock wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. Yet still, you couldn’t restrain a pained whimper and a shorter, gasping breath when he shifted, lifting you up and forcing you back down. “Aah, Lord Ares, it- I-I can’t--” Your words were cut short by a whine, and your eyes shot down, avoiding Ares’ cruel crimson ones, again attempting to relax, focusing on the pleasure beneath the pain. You swallowed hard, and your cunt constricted, despite the burning ache, at the sight of the bulge in your lower belly. You hadn’t missed Ares’ considerable endowment when you had been touching him beforehand, but the sight of him so noticeably buried in you was a little frightening, and somehow even more arousing. “What troubles you so, nymph?” you tore your gaze away from the lewd sight it was fixed on to meet Ares’ eyes when he spoke. The cut of his voice was derisive, almost cruel, and a leer adorned his lips. “Surely you can handle this,” he added. He lifted and lowered you again, harder, and his smirk grew just a little when you winced and a gasping ‘ah’ burst from your lips. Somehow it was no shock a god entangled in violence and war would enjoy some pain, even in play. Dionysus’ familiar voice

floated to you before you could answer, smooth as honey, and almost soothing. “Easy, babe, you’re doing great.” His words were an intimate whisper, and if Ares could hear, he didn’t care to acknowledge them, only spearing you on his cock all over again, settling into a slow, rough pace. “Gotta relax, let it all go,” Dionysus urged you, and the tickle of his breath sent a pleasant chill down your spine, making your cunt squeeze down on Ares’ length again. Dionysus’ hands splayed across the bare skin of your back, feeling almost cold on your overheated skin. He smoothed around your torso until a breast filled each large palm, his thumbs rubbing lightly over your nipples. The sensation was a welcome contrast to the sting of Ares’ brutal fucking. Though the pain didn’t seem as bad as it had been - whether you were becoming used to it, or the pleasure Dionysus added muted it, you weren’t sure. Ares’ hands, meanwhile, remained steadfast on your hips, content to hold them in a grip tight enough to surely bruise. Each new time you sank down on his dick, your breath escaped in a gasp or breathless groan. The sounds you made morphed into something steadily more erotic, breathier and wanton. Ares’ voice drifted out, too, though in rumbling grunt when he buried himself completely inside you. Coming down on his length again, another hardness met you, from your backside this time, your ass sliding against it as Ares continued to fuck you. A fleeting glance back told you was Dionysus, proudly nude having decided completely discarding his long tunic was the best course of action. Your lapse in attention earned you more punishment from Ares, though, and he took the chance to lean forward and bite down on your neck sharply. Your hands flexed again, digging into whatever it was they had settled on now - you weren’t concerned with what, be it cloth or flesh or anything else. Your head snapped around, meeting entertained, self-satisfied red. Dionysus’ erection drew back and one hand lifted away. After several more thrusts, something hard, but smaller and more pliant prodded at your ass. Coated in something tacky and slick, what you assumed was one of Dionysus’ fingers searched briefly before finding your asshole and rubbing against it in small, gentle circles. An extra hard thrust from Ares made you tense and whimper, though your body clenched around him again. Still near your throat, Ares’ mouth closed over your skin again, biting and sucking greedily. Dionysus’ finger abandoned the lazy circles, pressing lightly against your puckered hole, steadily forward, careful despite Ares’ jarring pace. When the digit finally slipped through the ring of muscle, you hissed, a new discomfort striking you for an instant, in combination with Ares’ harshness. But whatever coated Dionysus’ finger had made the penetration only uncomfortable for a brief moment, and when he eased his finger in and out, the discomfort shifted to the back of your mind, replaced by the increased sense of fullness. Alongside it, a bubbling tension was awakening in your core, spurred on by the treatment of both gods, boiling low and tightening further ever-so-slowly. A second thick finger joined the first, and you became more used to the newest intrusion, taking in the swell of sensations enveloping you. Dionysus’ pace shifted to match Ares’ in speed, but it remained careful and otherwise languid. The hand he had left on your tits though became notably rougher, though, from excitement, rather than pleasure in pain. Ares’ grip on your hips wavered, no longer needing to so forcefully direct you. The ministrations from both had worked you into a wild heat that encouraged you to rock and grind against him and back onto Dionysus’ fingers. You couldn’t decide which your body craved more. All you knew was you needed both. Any remaining tension had been completely sapped away, along with all coherency you had possessed. An unbidden whine broke free when Dionysus withdrew his fingers, turning halfway into a gasp and then a moan when Ares paired a hard thrust with an even harder

bite on the junction of your neck and shoulder. You had little time to protest or miss any of the sensations before the hotter, harder touch of Dionysus’ cock returned, coated in the same thick, slick substance as his fingers. He aligned himself with your ass, as smooth and relaxed as before. “Better take a deep breath, babe,” Dionysus purred in your ear, both of his hands shifting to cut your rear. He pushed forward as you impaled yourself on Ares once more, his entrance mindful and slow; the opposite of his brother’s entirely. You drew a sharp breath, not from Dionysus’ warning, but simply from the way each inch added more and more to what you had already believed to be a fullness that threatened to split you wide. By the time Dionysus, too, was sheathed inside of you, the fullness bordered on overwhelming, and your breathing faltered again, your mind so completely scrambled. Your head fell back and your lips opened in an ‘oh’ of pleasure, dull pain, and a plethora of other intense, mixed feelings. You tried to rock into them both, to meet each thrust, though when their paces aligned, you could do little but writhe and moan, as if all sense had been wrung from you. Dionysus mouthed at your ear playfully, tongue curling across the shell. “Mm, you’re doing great, babe,” he praised in a husky whisper you almost didn’t catch, so caught up in everything. But catch them you did, and they sent another shudder coursing through you, your body squeezing both gods desperately and drawing more erotic sounds from them both. Another growling, low moan from Ares. A breathy, hedonistic groan from Dionysus. They only added to the mounting maelstrom of arousal and heat. Your heart quickened when one of Ares’ hands abandoned your hips and splayed around your throat loosely. His lips brushed your ear, and as he spoke, he squeezed, just enough to make your heart beat even faster and your breath come a bit more shallow. “Enjoying yourself, are you, nymph?” he growled cheekily. “I might have expected as much from one of my dear brother’s little harlots.” Had you been more sober, clear minded, Ares’ words, sounding nearly a slight, might have made you flush hot with humiliation. Instead, they worked only to heighten your desire, flowing into everything else. You had no mind left for embarrassment. All that remained were the mind-numbing sensations surrounding you and filling you. Ares’ voice dropped away, his pace picking up, his hips bucking harder into yours. Even Dionysus behind you thrust a little faster, harder, his own peaking arousal just as plain as Ares’. You weren’t immune to the welling up of pleasure, either, your belly churning and tight with a winding heat that was nigh unbearable. It grew and grew each time you were filled, and you wanted to scream instead of moan, cry instead of gasp. The thick intrusions, the wandering and groping and squeezing hands, and the greedy, hot tongues and teeth. It all came together in the perfect storm of mindless, primal passion. You came before either of them, giving into whatever wanton shout or cry wanted to escape, your muscles clenching frantically. When first the tense coil of heat burst, you were set awash with that heat, searing and intense, as if lightning struck. Your orgasm rose and fell, only to be dragged out by Ares’ and Dionysus’ unceasing pace, thrusting into your heat unrelentingly. The end of one orgasm blended into the beginning of another, and hot, overwhelmed tears brimmed in your eyes before breaking away. On either side of your face, each god lingered. Dionysus whispered more sultry words of praise and encouragement, placing sloppy kisses on your temple and cheek. Ares nipped your jaw and licked at the salty trail of your tears, as it was an exquisite taste that delighted him. Ares’ hips rolled into you harder than ever before, pace becoming wild and erratic. With a final sharp thrust, Ares’ release filled your cunt, hot and thick, accompanied by a savage bite to your neck that left the warm, sticky feeling of blood in its wake. When he pulled back, a bit of

blood smeared on his lips and teeth, he looked even more warlike and intimidating than to start. But something in his expression seemed sated, calm almost - or at least as calm as a god of such chaos could be. Dionysus, despite joining in later, took little longer to reach his own climax, and with a grinding thrust, he, too, coated your insides with his cum. A drawn-out, erotic moan followed in the wake of his orgasm, and he lay his head on your shoulder, his hair sticking to your overheated, sweat-slicked skin. After a moment of silence, Ares reclined back more comfortably, though didn’t bother to lift you off his length. Dionysus pulled away, withdrawing leisurely with a sound of contentment. Feeling exhausted and sore, you chanced collapsing against Ares’ chest, and to your surprise, the war god allowed it. You ignored the warm, wet feeling seeping down your thighs, too tired to truly care. “There. Don’t we all feel better now?” asked Dionysus cheerily, hardly sounded tired or winded at all. He paused to listen in silence, searching for the previous ruckus. “Certainly sounds a bit quieter out there now.” “Perhaps,” Ares drawled, and he didn’t sound very taxed either. It seemed you were the only one so tired. “I may yet have more use for your nymph before the night is done,” Ares decided, and you jumped reflexively when his fingers curled in your hair and massaged absently, in a gesture that could almost be confused for affectionate. Dionysus hummed acknowledgement. “Well, I’ll be back in a bit then. Try not to have too much more fun while I’m gone.” You heard rather than saw Dionysus redress and depart, too tired to bother looking. Your mind wandered to what other uses Ares might have for you, as he had stated. Did Dionysus have similar intentions in mind for the evening, too? Whatever the case, this wouldn’t be a night you would soon forget.

#ares #dionysus #hades game #ao3 #writing #fanfiction #nsft #n/s/f/w #fic friday #finally another fic upload #tw: alcohol #tw: blood

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marmosa · 3 years

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Can i request a fred x reader where theyre friends and then one day freds like, yeah she’s cute...holy shit i like her. Or something along those lines?? Your writing is the best!

thank you so much for the compliment and for the support! i’m a sucker for the friends to lovers trope so this request got me super excited skhfbskfj. hope you like it, love <3!

word count: 1.4k

***

“You know, for someone who’s the life of the party, you are terrible at showing up on time to parties,” [y/n] scolded Fred, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him down next to her on the couch.

“First off, the life of the party is always fashionably late, it’s written in the rulebook. Secondly, you’ve got to be more careful or I would’ve spilled my drink all over you,” Fred replied, rolling his eyes and elbowing her in the side playfully.

“Rulebook? What rulebook? The rulebook for morons?” she lulled, sticking out her tongue, jerking to the side to avoid another elbow to her side, “Fine! Whatever you say certified party animal, it doesn’t matter you didn’t really miss anything anyway.”

“I know I didn’t, because the party never truly starts until George and I have showed up,” He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows as she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, whatever, that’s only because you haven’t managed to spike the punch yet,” she scoffed, swirling her plastic cup in his face.

“Me? Spike the punch? How dare you accuse me of something so inappropriate! I’m frankly offended you’d think of me so lowly, [y/l/n],” He scoffed in offense, throwing his hand over his head in mock hurt.

“Oh yes, because you are the epitome of rule following, Percy would get a kick out of hearing that,” she snickered, taking a sip of her drink to avoid Fred’s disgruntled look.

“You’ve been fraternizing with the enemy now? I ‘ought to cut you off completely. Honestly woman you’re playing a dangerous game here,” Fred scolded her, shaking his head.

“It bothers you that much? Wonder how you’d take it if I told you he asked me on a date,” she hummed, biting back a smile when Fred’s face fell faster then a quidditch player off their broom.

“You’re bluffing. [y/n] so help me god if you’re serious I will never speak to you again,” He replied flat out, his voice void of any humor.

[y/n] started giggling then broke out into full laughter though it was impossible to tell in the crowded and noisy room. She had to lean over and clutch her stomach as Fred continued staring her down, refusing to back down on his front until he received a clear answer.

“I’m serious [y/n], take it back or I will never speak to you again,” He repeated, his deadpan expression turning into a frown.

“Alright! Alright, goodness, he’s a git not the devil, Fred. But don’t go getting your wand in a twist, he’s hasn’t done anything of the sort,” she chuckled, still heaving from her fit of laughter.

“Good. I’d kill him if he did,” Fred replied simply, standing up and stretching his limbs, “anyway, we’re here to party, care to join me on the dance floor?”

He motioned to the small crowd of people in the center of the common room that had been cleared out for more space, setting down his drink and offering her his hand. She smiled back at him and nodded, taking his hand and quickly setting her drink down as he dragged her behind him to the dance floor.

They started vibing to the music, jumping and swaying to the beat of the music rolling off the record player. No one was sure how they kept coming up with the latest tunes on vinyl, however everyone had dropped any sort of interest in figuring it out in fear of losing their new music privilege's.

“You’re a rubbish dancer,” Fred called over the music, receiving a confused look from [y/n].

He rolled his eyes and grabbed her sleeve pulling her into him and steadying her with a firm hand on her waist, “I said you’re a rubbish dancer, let me show you how it’s done.”

Before [y/n] could get out a defensive remark in she was being spun in a circle by Fred, a surprised yelp leaving her lips before he pulled her back in and continued swaying with her side to side. She couldn’t help but smile at his antics, letting herself indulge in the moment, slinging her arms around his neck as he continued his theatrics, mouthing the words to the song.

They continued like that until [y/n]’s friend weaved her way into the crowd and pulled her away for a moment to talk, leaving Fred to his own devices. He took the opportunity to take a break himself, heading back to the concessions table for a new drink as he knew there was no chance of finding his old one.

He leaned against the entrance to the boys dormitory, scanning the room for anyone familiar, his eyes landing on [y/n] giggling with her friends about something. His heart started to flutter in his chest as he watched her hide her face in her hands as her friends all agreed on something that seemingly embarrassed her.

Wait. Fred stopped staring at her and cast his gaze down to his drink. Why was his heart beating in his chest so fast? He looked back up and saw [y/n] glance over at him with a small smile, passing him a wave before turning back to her friends who were now hotly debating something. He blew air out from between his lips and quickly rushed up to his dormitory to go sit by a window, feeling his face heat up more than he’d like it to in that sweltering hot room.

He dodged a few stragglers on the stairs, his heart still racing as his mind replayed their shared dance, her laughter, her smile, her. He shoved his hands in his pockets before bursting into his room, thanking god it was empty so he could be spared of any embarrassment at his emotional epiphany.

She’s so pretty, he thought to himself, sitting down next to the nearest window and pushing it open, sighing in relief as the cool air rushed over his hot skin. Has she always been this pretty? With a groan his head hit the back of the wall with a thud, his fingers fiddling with the fraying ends of his jeans. She definitely has.

“Well, don’t you look lonely, Mr. life of the party.”

Fred’s head snapped to the side as his heart picked up pace once more, cursing at the most untimely appearance of the last person he needed to see right now, “I’m not lonely, it’s just hotter than hell down there and I need some fresh air.”

“Going to be honest, same here. But you look,” she shrugged, shuffling over and plopping down in front of him, “flustered. What’s up?”

Fred cursed again, wanting to shove his face into the wall and scream, that’s what he gets for catching feelings for one of his best friends, “Nothing’s up. I’m a ginger lest you forget. I could turn red just because the sun blinked at me.”

“Good point,” she hummed, tapping the tips of her shoes against his, “I know you though and I know that’s a pile of rubbish. But I don’t want to ruin your fun so I won’t dig, but I’ll get my answer eventually.”

“Whatever, that’s what you always say,” He rolled his eyes, staring out the window to ignore her drilling stare and raised eyebrow.

“You enjoy the attention, don’t lie,” she stuck out tongue, blowing a raspberry at him.

“You’re a smartass you know that,” he mumbled, bumping her in the shin with his heel.

“Your smartass,” she retorted, not noticing the way Fred’s eyes widened at the implication, “But enough of me pestering you, George was looking for you, said something about a plan and fireworks, didn’t stick around long enough to explain the rest, so you should probably head back downstairs.”

Fred sighed and visibly relaxed, his pranking expertise now rushing to the forefront of his mind as he pushed down his feelings to deal with later, “Will do, but only if you come with me, I don’t think we’ve done enough dancing for one night.”

“Agreed! Onward then,” She cheered, pushing herself up and offering Fred a hand, a cheery grin plastered on her face.

“Can do,” He replied, taking her hand as she pulled him along.

He smiled to himself softly, squeezing her hand gently as she started to ramble on about how she wanted in on whatever he and George were planning, though he was hardly paying attention to the subject matter and more to the lilt in her voice.

He was in for a wild night.

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x [y/n]#[y/n]#mar writes #asks #hogwarts #harry potter

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crowtrinkets · 3 years

Text

Your Weary Widow Marches

A Gender Neutral MCxFelix fic in which our dear barista educates their teacher and shows him some music from their home.

I’ve never really written fanfiction before but I thought Id give it a shot. The formatting looks weird on my end so if it looks weird after posting I apologize I couldn’t figure it out. Hope you enjoy!

—-

The crackling fire and pages being turned were the only sounds heard for the past few hours. Felix and I sat on either side of a couch placed in Anisa’s office silently reading our respective books. I’ve been in Astraea for nearly a week and had I known that Felix’s teaching method would be done via reading books the size of an encyclopedia I probably would have chosen Sage or Anisa instead... probably

I glance up at Felix, he’s sitting with legs crossed slouching on the arm rest of the couch, glasses on and enthralled in his book. I'm leaning with my back against the arm rest facing Felix, peering at him from behind my knees. I watch as his eyes scan the pages, partially hiding behind my book so he doesn’t notice me stare. I rub my eyes, dry from the endless reading of Astraean history. I know plenty of history and lore from this world thanks to countless hours of playing Last Legacy and stalking forums, but I don’t think I could’ve convinced Felix of that without having to explain what video games are let alone the internet. He thought if I were to learn magic I should at least know part of its history and it’s contribution to their society.

Despite spending some time with Felix I'm still amazed at the attention span he has for reading. I scan the room trying not to move too much lest I be scolded by the warden. I glance over at the high back chair across the room. The one Anisa sat me in after my jaunt through Felix’s portal and painfully onto Anisa's desk. My mind begins to wander.

I’ve only been here a short time but I feel like I’ve adjusted well. I wonder what's happening on Earth. Does time pass the same at home like how it does in this realm? World? Alternate universe? I still don’t exactly know how to explain my predicament. Has anyone noticed I'm gone yet? I wonder if I’m on the missing persons list, someone at work will have noticed I didn’t show up for my shifts. I cringe slightly at that last thought, my open book now resting on my chest. Ah damn it, I’m definitely fired aren’t I. How am I gonna pay my bills.... and my home, I miss my bed....my plants. SHIT MY PLANTS. I bring my hand to my face and cringe, my beloved house plants they’re going to wither away in my absence. Fate is such a cruel mistress.

“Bored of reading are we?” I slightly jump at Felix’s comment. I bring my hand down and look at him. Staring at me through his glasses a smirk on his lips. I flush slightly and close my book.

“No I just, got to thinking about Earth, and my life, I guess I’m just a little home sick,” I mumble out those last words. I want to be honest with Felix but I don’t want him beating himself up for my situation. I mean yes he is the reason I’m stuck here but I don't hate him for it. Felix frowns and closes his own book.

“Ah... I am sorry about that, I-“ I sit up interrupting him.

“No no no, I'm not mad at you, I’m actually quite enjoying my time here. I mean I don’t have to make drinks for annoying customers everyday here,” I force a laugh but it comes out awkwardly. Felix gives me a quizzical look. I then realize, with the amount of times he calls “dear barista” I just assumed he knew what it meant. “Yknow, my job? A barista?” Felix flushes and avoids looking at me.

“I must admit.. I do not actually know what that is,” I cant help but chuckle, the great necromancer Felix, is embarrassed to not know something.

“Well my dear teacher," I emphasize the word teacher mimicking the way he calls me, "allow me to educate you on some Earth information,” I sit cross legged and scoot closer to him book in my lap. Felix adjusts to face me properly and removes his glasses. I clear my throat and smile at him. “My part time occupation of being a Barista, requires me to make drinks for customers and sell them, more often I make coffee but sometimes people order tea. We sell pastries as well,” Felix gives me yet another confused look.

“All you do is prepare drinks and flakey confectioneries?” I nod in response with a smile, I can only imagine what he assumed a Barista was. Felix chuckles and runs a hand through his hair, “All this time I thought it was something more complicated, you described your customers as being annoying? I am assuming you do not like this particular job?”

“Well, I don't hate it but the customers can get a little rude and for the dumbest reasons too. One time a woman threw her drink at me claiming I added 3 1/2 shots of espresso and rather than 3,” I laugh to my self looking back at the memory, chuckling more when I see Felix’s horrified expression.

“A woman... threw a drink at you? Because she deemed it made incorrectly? I did not except Earth customs to be so. . . Barbaric,” Felix looks at me astonished and confused but all I can do is laugh. “And why are you laughing? Are you alright did she hit your head when she assaulted you with a beverage?” Felix is now standing while I clutch my stomach in pain, the combination of the story and Felix’s confusion is too much to bare. After a minute I manage to calm down enough to speak.

“No no, she did not hit me in the head, I’m just laughing cause it was funny, well at the time it wasn’t but my co workers took pictures and I looked ridiculous. I can laugh about it now,” I wipe a stray tear from my eye as I recount the experience. Thank god her drink was iced.

“Picture?” Felix chimes in. I try to think of how to explain how photography works but I come up with an idea.

“Why don’t I show you?” I stand handing Felix my book and I jaunt over to Anisa’s desk. I let her peruse my backpack because she seemed so interested in my “Earthly items” as she called them. I walked back over and sit on the floor, patting the ground next to me so Felix can join.

“You known there is a perfectly good sofa right next to you, I don’t understand why you wish to sit on the ground like we are mere children,” but despite his protests Felix sits next to me still clutching our books. I rummage through my back tossing the other items to the side. My wallet, a flyer, a jacket, that granola bar which has definitely crumbled to pieces in its package. Until I finally find it, my phone. My first night here I instinctively tried to use it, forgetting I am now stuck in a world without wifi or cell towers. In an effort to hopefully conserve its battery I hard shut off my phone I did not think I would need it but now is an opportunity for me to educate Felix about my world rather than his and tell him a little about myself. Really I just want a reason to prolong my time from reading anymore history. I hold the power button and silently pray. Please have some battery left, please please. Felix is leaning towards me, his face inching closer to mine, I glance at him studying his expression. He looks confused, and curious at the same time, there's a slight scrunch in his brow like he’s trying to seem like he understands what I’m doing, but I know he doesn’t. In that moment his eyes meet mine, I turn my head to fully face him, a blush creeps up his face and I can feel mine begin to warm as well. “Felix-“

BING

We both jump at the sound of my phone turning on. Damn phone, well I guess I kinda asked for that. Felix sits back and clears his throat.

“Um, what, what is that?” His voice wavers slightly but I choose to ignore it to save him some dignity.

“Its my phone, on Earth nearly everyone has one of these. You can use it to communicate with other people, take pictures, look things up, and listen to music.” I begin to unlock it and open my photo album.

“You can communicate with other people? On this... this flat brick?” Felix points accusatory at my phone the scrunch in his eyebrows have intensified creating deep crevices on his forehead. I nod while I scroll through trying to find the photo.

“Yup and take pictures, such as this one,” I turn my phone to face Felix revealing the image documenting the after affects of being assaulted with coffee. He leans over to get a better look. In the picture I'm standing by the cash register, soaked through my clothes in an extra large coffee's amount of liquid. The brown liquid stains my apron and the parts on my white shirt poking out from underneath. There's smeared whipped cream going across my shoulder up my neck and partially along my jaw, and the scowl on my face could kill a man. The instant I show the picture to Felix he plants a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. He turns away in an attempt to hide his amusement but I know he wont last.

“Im-I must apologize I did not mean to laugh but, but the look on your face is hilarious,” Felix faces me again trying to hide his smile with the back of his hand. I start to chuckle, I turn the phone back to me and swipe to the next picture. Its a similar picture but in this one my co worker put whipped cream on top of my head, something about it “completing the look”. When I show this picture to Felix it breaks his terrible attempt of remaining poise. He laughs loudly, and it’s extremely contagious. I laugh along with him reminiscing in his beautiful laugh. Every once in a while we calm down until we look at the picture and we start up again. After a bit I’m able to calm down enough to speak.

“Don’t feel bad for laughing, at the time I was pissed but my co workers cheered me up and now I have these memories to laugh at,” I start to look through my album again as Felix calms down from his laughing high. I find more pictures to show him. Some are of me at work with my co workers, one picture of me laughing as I held a dog that jumped through the drive through window. I show him more pictures, some are of earth sunsets which Felix claimed to look like they belong in a painting. I also show him a picture of some Geese I saw while on a walk, and then a picture of said Geese chasing me. This gets Felix to laugh again but not as hard.

“You lead an interesting life on Earth, it seems similar to Sage you are also prone to provoke others into attacking you,” I roll my eyes at Felix’s joke and give him a friendly shoulder bump. Its at this moment I realize how close he’s sitting. Our books set aside and Felix is leaning on one arm politely looking over my shoulder at my phone, I can tell he doesn’t really understand how it works but it seems he’s enjoying this moment to much to ask. In an attempt to keep the sweet moment I change the subject.

“Hey do you want to listen to some Earth music?” With a nod from Felix I close the app and instinctively go to press my streaming app. Damn no Internet. I think for a second and remember I have some music I bought in times before streaming apps existed. I find the app and open it. Dear god my taste was cringey. I scroll through the songs until I stumble across a less than embarrassing song. “This is a classic where I come from, everyone has heard this song at least once. I lay back onto the floor so I can properly listen to the music. Felix looks at me and awkwardly lays down as well, I click on the song allowing it to play.

Just a small town girl

Livin' in a lonely world

She took the midnight train goin' anywhere

Just a city boy

Born and raised in South Detroit

He took the midnight train goin' anywhere

Felix gives me a puzzled look but I just shrug and look up at the ceiling. I close my eyes and take in the song as it plays. If I concentrate hard enough I can imagine my self back on Earth. Sitting in my room listening to 80s music while I do laundry or cook my dinner. I start to feel nostalgic again but I try not let my emotions take over. The song ends and I pause it before it plays the next song. I roll onto my side and rest my head on my hand.

“So what’d you think?” I beam at Felix, I genuinely want to know what he thinks of Earth music, and more specifically a song that I am quite fond of. Felix is laying flat on his back, he ankles crossed and his hands laying on his chest. He looks nervous to be laying on the ground next to me but has made no attempts to leave.

“I thought it was... interesting to say the least. It had quite a captivating story although I was confused when the subject changed multiple times, and what exactly are they trying to “not stop believing” in” Felix does air quotes and seems genuinely enthralled in the “story” of the song. I smile and start to look for another song.

“How about you choose the next one?” I tilt my phone towards him. Felix sits up at my question.

“I dont feel very well versed in Earth music though,” He mumbles. I shrug at his comment.

“Just pick one with a name that sounds interesting to you” I show Felix how to use the phone and hand it to him laying back down. I peek at Felix, he’s holding the phone in one hand and is scrolling with the other, he’s holding it like an old man. I watch his face, he’s thoroughly looking at every single song title and determining whether they are interesting or not. I find it... cute, his concentration face is cute. Oh if he caught me staring I know he would become a blubbering blushing mess, I mean I would be too. I close my eyes again as I wait for him to pick.

“This one seems interesting,” I hum in response, but when Felix says the title out-loud and panic seizes through me. I sit up and shout WAIT but I'm too late. He already pressed it. And then I hear it.

That dreaded, infamous G note. Felix turns towards me surprised and hastily hands the phone to me, I pause it before another note can play.

“Hells MC what will that song make my head explode or something??? You nearly made my heart stop.” Felix takes a deep breath with his hand on his chest.

“I'm sorry, that song its kind of embarrassing actually,” I can feel myself flushing, I look away in embarrassment at the fact that I had that song downloaded and the fact that I nearly sent my teacher into cardiac arrest.

“Embarrassing how?” Felix looks at me puzzled. I open my mouth to speak but then stop. Hold on a second, Felix doesn’t know this band, let alone what an emo phase is. Well judging by his raven skull necklace he does but not in the way I do. I guess it wouldn’t be so bad if we listened to it. I do still like their music. But god did it HAVE to be this song. I clear my throat and look back at Felix.

“Nothing, it’s nothing I was just being dramatic,” I stifle a laugh. “We can listen to it, I actually quite like this band,” Felix nods and turns to face my direction, were now both sitting cross legged and I press play on the song. I smile a little as the song plays and close my eyes again. I cant even remember the last time I listened to this song. My mind begins to wander again, to my younger years when I first heard this song.

I was such a try hard back then, wanting so badly to “be different” but also to mend the emotional pain I was going through, and this band really helped me through it. This song is a little more narrative than the last one so I hope Felix would like it. I can’t believe I freaked out like I did god he must think I'm crazy, or maybe that lady really did hit my head when she threw that drink at me. As the song plays I silently hum to it, quiet enough so that Felix might not hear. I drink in the lyrics and instruments and it feels like I'm listening to it again for the first time.

The song ends and I open my eyes again to pause the music before it plays another one.

“So what did you think of tha-“ before I can continue I'm stopped by the sight of Felix’s face. His eyes are misty and his nose is colored pink. Was he... was he crying? Felix looks at me and his eyes go wide. He quickly turns away and rubs at his face.

“There-there is quite a lot of dust on this floor, honestly you would think Annie would have any sense to clean in here every once in a while,” I cant help but smile, wow he really is a goth child.

“It’s ok Felix, this song makes me cry sometimes too,” Felix side eyes me and sniffles.

“I-I was not crying, yes I admit the song was... moving to say the least…. But, but I will not be mocked by you for my emotions,” Felix turns to face me again refusing to meet my eyes, his voice turning accusatory. I scoot closer to Felix and place a hand on his shoulder. He looks at me astonished and slightly flushed, either from the contact or the crying, I mean dust, I will never know.

“Congratulations” I say with a smile. Felix’s puzzled look twists even more.

“What ever are you talking about,” Felix questions.

“You’re emo now,”

#fictif games #fictif #fictif last legacy #last legacy fictif #last legacy #fictif felix #felix iskandar escellun #felix escellun #fictif sage #fictif anisa #crow writes

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wordsablaze · 3 years

Text

13~ masked by my pride

tell me your problems (i’ll chase them away) Internal scars can be difficult to deal with but Eskel vows to heal any that Jaskier is weighed down by if it’s the last thing he does…

A/N: sorry it’s been a month but guess which dorks tried to borrow the braincell from scorpion ??

@random-nerd-3 @betaray-jones @w-s-kibela @in-love-with-writing002 @screaming-flapjacks @havenoffandoms @lasaga666 @mayastormborn @alllthequeenshorses

previous chapter

“You’re Jaskier the bard, aren’t you?” someone asks as soon as they get to Piana.

Jaskier doesn’t miss a beat before he nods, smiling politely. “That would be me, yes, lucky for you. Who’s asking?”

Eskel moves to go stable Scorpion but even as the stranger starts talking, Jaskier squeezes and tugs on Eskel’s hand just enough to stop him from going anywhere. He could easily pull out of the bard’s hold but he finds that he doesn’t want to so he just waits, biting back his smile lest he scares the stranger off.

There is no logical reason - or any other kind of reason, for that matter - as to why he’s become addicted to the feel of the bard’s fingers interlaced with his own and yet, he’s already resigned himself to that fate. And he’s not complaining.

“-nd should I report back a confirmation?” the man asks.

“Of course, it would be rude of me to refuse such a gracious offer,” Jaskier replies smoothly, and Eskel wishes he hadn’t zoned out of the conversation.

It’s not until they’re seated in the corner of a tavern that Jaskier relaxes, leaning into Eskel’s shoulder and slumping in his seat.

“Is something wrong?” Eskel asks, now trying to hold himself as still as possible so he doesn’t jostle Jaskier; he’s used to blending into the background but this feels different, like something precious.

“Of course not,” Jaskier replies immediately and, much to Eskel’s dismay, straightens up and pulls himself to his feet.

Eskel definitely does not sound at all forlorn as he asks, “Where are you going?”

Jaskier cocks his head to the right and holds his lute up with a small smirk. “We’re in a tavern, darling, and I’m a bard. The situation speaks for itself, I think.”

He’s bounding towards the man who looks like he’s in charge before Eskel can point out that he should probably take care of his own stomach before everyone else’s ears, but he’s not sure if that’s specifically a Jaskier thing or a general bard thing so he lets it go for the moment.

Obviously, he regrets it when Jaskier starts singing about Eskel heroically saving the continent from sirens, but he thinks even that’s growing on him already. And either way, watching Jaskier move through a room is a rewarding experience in itself, not that he’s incapable of taking his eyes off the bard, what an absurd situation that would be.

“Sing the other one! With the other witcher!”

Jaskier pauses, having just finished a song about pirates or something, and his eyes flicker to Eskel before he nods, launching into toss a coin with an easy smile. Eskel tries not to dwell on wanting to punch the man who’d requested the song - it has benefited them all, after all - and instead wonders how long it’ll take for Lambert to complain he’s being left out.

The second time Jaskier leans into Eskel’s shoulder is almost equally as precious. “How long before you need to set off again?” he asks as he tucks his lute back into its case.

Eskel frowns, pushing one of the two drinks that’d been set down on their table towards him. “We’ve been travelling all day, Jaskier.”

Jaskier nods but doesn’t move, clearing his throat after taking several large gulps and wincing. “You said you had somewhere to be.”

“There’s no hurry,” Eskel says, and he’s not even lying just to be polite; his path is generally north towards the keep but there’s still far too much time before winter sets in to be hurrying. Besides, he has little motivation for cold treks when he can feel Jaskier’s warm breath brushing against him.

“Well, in that case: fish.”

It takes Eskel a moment to realise that’s not some sort of cursing and instead a reference to food, which Jaskier immediately goes to find, leaving Eskel clutching a lute. It’s quite frankly just ridiculous how many times Jaskier gets away with slipping off somewhere in such a short space of time.

“Smells nice,” Eskel says honestly as Jaskier returns with two plates.

The bard smirks at him. “What, me or the fish?”

That takes Eskel a second to recover from. He shrugs. “Good point, could be either.”

Jaskier elbows him in faux offence as he settles yet again, but neither of them say anything more until their plates are empty. Not even two seconds pass before Jaskier yawns so hard that his eyes water.

Eskel laughs quietly. “We should head to the inn.”

“Oh but that would require moving,” Jaskier complains.

It was probably meant to be a humorous comment but Eskel can’t help frowning, wondering why Jaskier hadn’t asked for another break or something during their journey if he’d been getting so tired, not to mention why he’d decided performing was a good idea if he was ready to fall asleep.

“Stop that or I’ll actually write a ballad about the frowning witcher’s adventures,” Jaskier grumbles, poking his arm.

Eskel’s frown fades naturally as he smiles. “I thought you said the metaphors would be too hard?”

At that, Jaskier sits up and squints at him for a moment. “So you were listening after all, then. Is that a challenge, darling?”

“Maybe when your eyes aren’t drooping,” Eskel suggests, very much hoping Jaskier forgets about the whole conversation by tomorrow.

“My eyes are not drooping!” Jaskier argues, but the fact that he’s slumped against Eskel again doesn’t seem to do him any favours.

Eskel hums. “As you say, bardling.”

Jaskier pulls himself upright to prove his point, his hands on his hips as he raises an eyebrow. “See?”

Grabbing Jaskier’s lute as he stands, Eskel nods. “I see. Shall we head to the inn then?”

Jaskier’s mouth drops open as he glances between their now empty seats and Eskel. “You- Did you just- Did you just trick me into…?”

Eskel snorts, neither denying nor confirming the accusation. Thankfully, the inn isn’t far and they manage to get there with no problems, though that’s possibly because their hands are linked so even if Jaskier had started to wobble, nothing major could have happened anyway.

“We humbly request one of your fine rooms, if you will!” Jaskier beams at the innkeeper, a woman who looks a little sceptical at first but quickly softens as she looks over them properly.

“Just the one?” She asks.

Jaskier nods emphatically. “Just the one! No need to wear out the bedrolls, right?” he asks, more for Eskel’s benefit than the innkeeper’s, really.

“Right... Up the stairs, third door on the right,” the innkeeper says, handing him the key and nodding at Eskel with a hint of a smile, to which he nods back gratefully.

Jaskier pulls him along and yawns loudly as they find their room, finally letting go of his hand and flopping back onto the bed with his arms spread out. He’s only managed another quieter yawn by the time Eskel gets himself out of his armour and somehow, that’s equally as sad as it is endearing.

“Jaskier, you need to take your boots off at least,” Eskel whispers, trying his best not to laugh.

Jaskier looks up at him as if he’s just declared that lutes are outlawed. “Are you sure?”

Praying that he doesn’t take it the wrong way, Eskel sighs and goes to tug Jaskier’s boots off himself. He tenses up initially but when he realises what’s happening, he just laughs and awkwardly shrugs his doublet off to contribute.

“If you wanted to take my clothes off, you could’ve just asked,” he drawls, but then promptly yawns again.

“Unfortunately, I don’t speak yawn,” Eskel replies, and this time he does laugh, nudging Jaskier so they can both settle properly.

Jaskier vaguely kicks at him in response - assaulting only the air, of course - before Eskel feels arms around him. It takes a moment to relax his muscles and by the time he’s comfortable with the idea of Jaskier once again acting as a very strange but far from unpleasant blanket of sorts, said bard has already drifted off. Surprisingly, he finds himself doing the same.

“Eskel?”

He jolts awake immediately, his grip instinctively tightening on his weapon. Except it’s not a weapon he’s holding, it’s someone’s waist. Jaskier gasps sharply and Eskel all but flings himself out of the bed, leaning heavily on the closest wall as he clenches his fists and breathes slowly.

“Alright so perhaps waking you up with your name isn’t such a good idea,” Jaskier says eventually.

“I’m usually a light sleeper,” Eskel replies, beyond relieved that Jaskier seems to be amused rather than scared - he’s not sure what he’d do if Jaskier were to be scared of him.

Jaskier nods. “Right. Except you weren’t just then. Well, no matter, but if I don’t get to the privy in the next two minutes, we definitely will have a matter.”

Eskel doesn’t realise he’s kind of laughing until their room door swings shut. And even though Jaskier had taken absolutely no offence, he can’t help but feel embarrassed. So much so that he makes sure to slip out of their room just as Jaskier returns, freshening up before heading to the stables instead of opting for breakfast.

“Hey, girl,” he mumbles to Scorpion, who all but huffs impatiently when she finds his hands to be empty. “Sorry, I was in a rush,” he adds.

He opens his mouth to explain but she seems to be having none of it, stomping on his feet hard enough for it to hurt. He’s only just able to sidestep to avoid her doing the same thing twice, cursing under his breath. “You don’t need to break my toes to stop us from leaving,” he mutters angrily.

“You were leaving?”

Oh no.

Eskel turns on the spot even as the air fills with smoke and ash. Not literally of course, but it may as well be with how horribly strong the scent of distress is.

“Jaskier, I was just-” Eskel starts.

Jaskier shakes his head, exhaling slowly. “I don’t want to- Could you just answer the question? Please? Were you leaving?”

“No,” Eskel replies immediately. “No, of course not. I wouldn’t do that. And nor would Scorpion, it seems.”

Warm, fresh bread dilutes the smoky distress in the air and Eskel sighs with relief; apparently Jaskier believes him.

“Is everything okay?” Jaskier asks eventually, as if the answer to that doesn’t depend on his own emotions rather than whatever Eskel is thinking.

“I didn’t mean to worry you,” Eskel says honestly, “I just needed a minute.”

Jaskier nods. “I can give you a whole day, actually. How does meeting back at the inn tonight sound? Yes? Great, see you then!”

For all the good that enhanced senses do, Eskel wishes they came with enhanced processing because he’s getting tired of being too slow to register the bard’s words before it’s almost too late. Almost.

“Jaskier, wait!”

He’s not fast enough to stop Jaskier leaving the stables but thankfully the bard doesn’t disappear down some alley this time and he manages to end up in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. When Jaskier doesn’t say anything, biting his lip, Eskel sighs. “I don’t know what you’re thinking but it’s probably wrong. I simply… felt bad.”

“For what?” Jaskier asks softly, frowning.

Eskel clears his throat. “For this morning.”

Jaskier’s frown deepens. “What happened this morning? Did you break something or-” he gasps, “-did you hurt my lute?”

Eskel shakes his head, thoroughly confused. “Of course not! I- Why would I do that?”

With a shrug, Jaskier pinches the bridge of his nose. “What are you all guilty about then? We’ve not even been awake for an hour yet, what else could you possibly have done?”

“When you woke me up, I- I thought I might’ve hurt you?”

Jaskier blinks. And blinks again. He opens his mouth to say something only to close it again, then laughs. “Seriously? Oh, darling, that was nothing! It felt like getting hugged by an over-enthusiastic child, far from painful and definitely not something to fret your handsome self over!”

Eskel sighs, inwardly cursing himself for somehow having acted strangely enough to be compared to an over-enthusiastic child, and in an attempt to stop himself from genuinely attempting to flee, focuses back on something else that had bothered him.

“What did you mean by being able to give me a day?” he asks.

Jaskier offers him a sheepish smile. “That man yesterday? Well, I may have promised the Alderman I’d play for him again and then uh, forgotten? Turns out he didn’t forget and he’s ever so nicely offering to overlook the fact that it’s been several years if I perform today. Nothing important but it happens to be someone or the other’s name day and I usually attend those alone so…”

Oh. Of course very few people would want a witcher at their name day and even if they did, they wouldn’t want him; it’s not like scaring the children is ever part of the event.

“Well, I would hate to interfere,” he says after a pause.

Jaskier frowns again, seemingly considering something but only nodding in response. “Yes, there’s really no need. I’ll be done with it all by dinner and if you wouldn’t mind staying another night, we can set off tomorrow?”

Eskel smiles. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

“Marvellous! Until then, my dear witcher!” Jaskier smiles brightly and this time, does slip past him, fleetingly squeezing his hand as he goes.

Never has he had such a bewildering conversation before breakfast. He thinks he can maybe understand why Geralt had initially seemed averse to travelling with a bard but no, he still cannot comprehend how all the warmth and kindness wouldn’t be seen as worth any amount of confusion.

He appears to have been blindsided by said warmth and kindness though, because it takes him a stupidly long time to remember that he’s capable of spending the day doing something other than just waiting for Jaskier. Capable and very much required to, in fact.

It seems he’s spending his day with the local drowner then.

i'm beginning to suspect this fic is merely a myriad of clichés hiding in a trenchcoat but we're too far in to question it,,, my utmost appreciation to anyone who's somehow still sticking around <333

thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher sideblog: @itsjaskier | next chapter

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okaywitheverything · 4 years

Note

Can I request a Kakashi x reader where Kakashi and the reader have a unspoken thing between them, like they both know how they feel about each other even through when going through different relationships but it’s just not something they’ve acted on because of ✨ninja life✨ and ✨trauma✨then one of the readers relationships starts moving too fast so kakashi finally confesses. I love your writing btw sorry I went off on a ramble it’s like 4am and I’ve had a lot of energy drinks

A/N: Thank you so much honey! I had a kakashi kick so i decided to write this, Hope you enjoy! Please show it love and I’ll be more than willing to write a second part!

“I had a fun time too.” You lied straight through your teeth, with a smile on your face to make your statement look more convincing.

You had just returned from your sixth date with Genma, and you were the most cruel human possible for leading him on like this. Given, he was a player back in the academy and broke many hearts but he had now redeemed himself and parted with the playboy ways. Your intuition told you he was genuinely falling for you but you couldn’t reciprocate, constantly giving yourself the excuse of just one more date.

But how to give your heart to him when it already belonged to another?

He pecked your lips lightly and gazed into your eyes, then stepped back and continued, “So I was wondering if you would come back to my place for dinner next Friday?

He looked like a golden retriever yearning for its favourite toy, you didn’t know how to say no to him.

Of course, you weren’t dumb. You knew what he was hinting at. The next level of your relationship was physical intimacy. You were sure this was the longest Genma might have dated someone without indulging in uhh, lovemaking.

You knew he was trying to be patient with you, because you had never gone that far with any of

your previous relationships, third base was foreign territory to you. You knew this was a well known fact among your colleagues but you were over the initial embarrassment now.

But the question was,

Were you ready for that?

He was one of the most sought after bachelors in Konoha, alongside Izumo, Kotetsu, Kakashi-

Kakashi of course.

Kakashi was coolness personified and you were not even kidding. Almost every one wanted to either be him or be with him. Both applied to all possible genders. Even as a kid, he was a once in a millennium prodigy, the pride of ANBU during his youth, famous in every Ninja village across the world. He was a celebrity for goodness sake! He had his own horde of fangirls and fanboys alike. Kakashi had single digit failed missions in an entire record of few hundreds at least. It was almost an insult to give that skilled shinobi a mission below A rank. You both started alongside ay the academy and you were nowhere near his match. Both as an opponent and a partner. That too in both senses, as a team as well as a couple.

You were sure you were one of the many girls pining after him. Sometimes, you gave yourself false hope that even though you weren’t in the same circle at academy, he might have noticed you, crushed on you, felt the same adoration for you.

But who were you kidding? With a exquisite range of beauties lining up at his doorstep to create his progeny, where would you even stand?

“(Y/N) babe? You alright?” Genma asked snapping you out of your thoughts and you almost forgot he was standing in front of you, actually paying you some of his wanted attention and your younger self might have almost felt giddy about it, but you felt nothing but horrible. Horrible because you couldn’t return the enthusiasm and love Genma was offering to you with a pure heart. Horrible because you couldn’t find it in yourself to be brave enough and confess to someone you wanted to be with so much. Horrible because you knew, somewhere deep inside, that your favourite fantasies of love would never come true. But Genma didn’t deserve this either, he didn’t deserve to be treated this way, and the sooner you told him that, the more heartbreak you would be saving both of you from.

“Genma I have mission on Thursday, which might extend up to weeks. I’m sorry-” That was the truth. It might buy you some time as well to figure out what to say to him.

“Hey, it’s okay, not your fault doll. We’ll reschedule after maybe? That sound good?” He gave you a cheeky smile that you loved. Before any of this, you had been friends and he was a gem of a friend. Loyal, true and charismatic. You nodded a genuine smile up at him and suddenly hugged him, he was a good friend after all and you knew nothing would come in the way of that ever.

“Thank you.” You murmured in his chest and he kissed your forehead.

“Anytime.” He replied and left with a smile.

He knew you needed a friend at the moment and that was all he was being then, a good friend.

It was two nights before your mission when Genma suddenly asked you to meet him at the bar. ‘A casual hangout’ he said. But you knew that was obviously not the case.

You had dressed in a simple attire, a top and jeans, the basic only. You had thought it over the previous nights and finally reached the conclusion, you were going to tell Genma the truth. The exact conversation hadn’t played out in your head but you knew what lines to go along.

You would even tell everyone he dumped you and it would be okay if he never wanted to speak to you again cause you didn’t deserve even his friendship for being so ruthless and downright nasty.

But how would you survive without one of your true companions?

Well that was certainly your problem now, not his. Genma was immaculately kind and genuine and you were a cold bitch.

“This is clearly not working (Y/N).”

Well that wasn’t what you were expecting. You knew what he was getting at but juts so you were on the same page you dumbly asked, “What?”

He sighed and looked in your eyes, giving you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“It’s getting kinda obvious. You do know I can read you quite well and I see there’s something you’re trying to hide, something that so clearly shows. I could tell you were moving on, well trying to at least. You gave your heart to him when we were just kids, while I gave mine to you. Funny how fate works?”

Neither of you laughed.

“But I guess this is some sort of karma. And it’s going to hurt me for a bit of time. But I’ll be okay. I can’t see you like anymore though. I really hope he appreciates all the love you have for him. And comes around soon. But stay in my life nevertheless.”

You didn’t realise when you started crying, but your face had heated up and you streams of tears tried to cool it down.

With a shaking sob, you replied, “I don’t deserve you Genma. But I Know you’ll find another and be just fine. For your sake, I really hope you do. And Thank you.” You wrapped your arms around him while tears landed on both your shoulders.

It must have been so incredibly hard for him to do this yet he never failed to amaze you. You were proud to be a part of his life. You tilted back and looked in his glazed eyes, stood on your toes and pressed your lips to his, one last pasting kiss. There was so much emotion in it, from both sides that you knew you’d never forget this moment ever.

Genma really knew like the back of his hand, you never even said his name but both knew who you were talking about.

Kakashi always sat at the back of the bar, where he could drink his beer without the prying eyes of others trying to see his face. He rarely drank, lest he was with his friends but his heart was aching right now. He had messed up his mission yesterday because he couldn’t think straight after he saw (Y/N) looking as gorgeous as ever With her sleek (f/c) dress and cherry red lips. He might have drooled, he did actually, but gained his senses when he saw Genma accompanying her. He quickly hid, masking his chakra and looked at the happy couple. It was his fault, if anything for never acting on his feelings.

What good are your worldwide achievements if you don’t have a family to share them with?

Both his parents were taken away from him at a very young age and he had no relatives. Studying too hard, over exerting himself and being bratty became his coping mechanisms. Since his early childhood, Kakashi was very independent and self-confident, at times even appearing arrogant and condescending. Despite that, Kakashi was very perceptive and intuitive, quickly realising the situation for what it was. After his father's death, Kakashi became more stern, aloof and cold toward others, dating was never something he considered important, it didn’t even cross his mind. The only people he ever let into his life were a handful of classmates like Gai, Asuma, maybe even Kurenai to some extent but romance was out of his story, At least he thought it was.

Only know you've been high when you're feeling low Only hate the road when you're missing home Only know you love her when you let her go And you let her go

He first realised his love at some festival being celebrated in Konoha, when his bored eyes saw you all dressed up, beside your group of friends. You were laughing so wholeheartedly that even tears pooled there. He was thankful for whatever had you wheezing so hard. Sure, he always thought you were attractive, he knew how to appreciate beauty, but for some reason that laugh created a domestic picture in his head and he knew wouldn’t mind listening to it again.

That night he thought about you, like really thought about you. Reminiscing about every encounter you both had ever had, and he fell harder for you the same night. He remembered how you approached him after his father’s passing, the only person whose eyes held true sadness apart from his real friends’ circle.

He knew a lot of his admirers left him gifts at his house, expensive chocolates, cards, bouquets but he knew their intentions were never genuine. But he also remembered that among the lot, were homemade cookies and chocolates. They never had a name but he connected the dots when he found out your distant aunt had some sort of bakery. It was conformed when he saw you travelling through Konoha with several baskets in your hands, Your teen self trying to figure the addresses. He might or not have followed you. Some were your aunt’s deliveries while you brought some of them to your friends’ house and one last basket which you left at his doorstep.

You never approached him after to take credit, or with some other purpose. You didn’t even contact him in academy the next day.

He found himself wishing way too often that you did.

As much of a genius as Kakashi was, it took him way too much time, more than he’d like to admit, several years exactly, to realise the extent of his feelings. It happened when you started to date someone. It never crossed his mind why you never dated before but he wished it could go back to that. He caught you with your date kissing in a park and he swore he heard his heart break. Like really, really break. Then the intellectual finally figured out his Love.

And he knew he screwed up.

You see her when you close your eyes Maybe one day you'll understand why Everything you touch surely dies.

After that realization, you plagued his thoughts. He thought he would confess if your relationship ended but he was a coward. And he hated himself for it. He knew how shit his reason of losing you if he confessed was, but it was effective. The amount of close people he had lost just amplified his fear. He couldn’t afford to lose you, even if it pained his heart to admire you just from afar.

He was an exceptional ninja and his alert senses identifies your chakra as soon as you entered. Even in casual clothes, you were the prettiest thing he had ever laid eyes on. His gaze followed your short walk to the bar countertop where he found Genma and his mood turned sour. He was once again reminded of all he couldn’t have.

He observed the couple from a few feet behind his crush, and he saw you both hug suddenly. His heart broke all over again when he saw a tear roll down Genma’s cheek and you pulling Genma in a hot, steamy kiss. Though you both weren’t aware, you made quite a scene in the bar and everyone was gazing right at you both. Kakashi quickly paid for his tab and ran out, breathing heavily.

What if Genma proposed? That was a bizarre thought because he knew you’ve been dating for just over a month but Kakashi didn’t know how relationships progressed. That night found him lying awake in his bed and he came to a conclusion.

That he’d be damned if he let you get away without even trying.

A/N: Thanks for making it till the end. I hoped you liked it. Requests are open and if you don’t have any prompt, just comment which character you’d like to see more of and I’ll consider requests of that character. Please reblog and like. I’ll love you if you do.

Until next time.

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hornsandthings · 4 years

Text

headcanons: jasper with a newly-turned s/o

you had never asked for this. perhaps you’d thought about it – fleeting fantasies about being forever young and matching jasper’s sharp, fanged grin – but you’d never really considered it. although he was so obviously otherworldly, so clearly something more than a mere man, jasper sometimes made it so easy to forget that; forget that he was a blood-drinker, a night-feeder, a dead man walking. so you’d seldom ever thought about those things, about the whole reality of it. now, however, having been divorced from humanity yourself, you too were a creature – a vampire – who had to learn how to live this life of thirst.

jasper thought he would be ready for everything a newborn could bring: the aggression, the power, the hunger. and at first, you behaved quite predictably, governed by nothing more than the urge to drink. you did it almost incoherently, downing every bag of blood jasper brought to you. as he watched your mindless consumption, he was relieved by your growing strength; the memory of your fading pulse was still too fresh for him. once, you had been characterised by fragility, but now you were damn near invulnerable. in fact, jasper was looking forward to be able to tighten his grip, to hold you without handling you like glass.

he quickly realised, however, that you were turning out to be different than most newborns, and troublingly so. perhaps it was because of how quick your transformation had been, or maybe it was the nature of it – an effort to save your life, born from love – but your humanity resurfaced, clinging to you with incredible determination.

the most obvious example was the first time warm blood had wetted your lips. it was fresh, and thin, and hot – the blood of a squirrel, its neck savagely cracked just like how jasper showed you. he had taken you out hunting after the heavy rains passed, showing you how to scent, how to track. at first, you had been thirsty for it, eager, but as soon as you heard the sudden silence after that grotesque snap, all the lust leeched out of you. jasper had caught the way you winced after draining that animal, turning away from him when you wiped your mouth. you stood hunched, hand clasped around your neck, and jasper went rigid as he felt your emotions roil and then you were coughing up red, coughing up the blood, disgusted and sick and revolted.

jasper, in all his years, had neverseen something like that. when you looked at him, so small and scared despite the incredible newborn ferocity lurking beneath your skin, he was compelledto close the distance, to hold your dirty, bloody hands despite your protestations, to wipe away the remnants of the feed from your chin as your tears rolled down your face. “shhh, darlin’,” he had cooed, cupping your face, “it’s alright. it’s alright. i’ll hunt for you, sweetheart. i’m so sorry.” such sweet nothings continued to be whispered into your ear, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks. he remembered pressing a kiss to your temple, trying to calm his rising anxiety lest it start to affect you, but he was worried, and truth be told, rather scared too. maybe you survived the transformation, willed by nature itself, but would you allow yourself to make it past your newborn year? he clutched you tighter at that thought, clenching his jaw. he didn’t want to lose you, not again.

this strange morality also showed in the confused, insecure way you started to handle yourself. after days of what had been essentially binge-drinking, your head had cleared and you were finally able to see things as they were. looking in the mirror, you knew there was an ugly truth hiding behind that veneer of smooth skin and maroon eyes. the reflection was unfamiliar; this body was unfamiliar. it was aware of so many things. when an insect flapped its tiny wings, you felt it; when a new flower bloomed, you could pinpoint its odour amongst a handful of others; when a storm was on the horizon, you tasted it. and now, when jasper shuffled into the room behind you, you heard it.

“darlin’,” he murmured. his voice had always been soft and low, almost a susurration. but now it was so with purpose, because he was not blind to how you would flinch at loud noises, recoil from every touch. everything was amplified for you. it hurts, you would sometimes say, echoing the final coherent words that fell from your lips in your past life, and jasper would be hit by such overwhelming guilt that he could barely swallow it.

he hated himself for a lot of things, but doing this to you – the clear revulsion at your new nature – it ate at him. you might have been bearing the brunt of the enhanced sensations, but jasper carried the weight of your projected emotions. the fear, the disgust, the thirst – he felt it all, and it was like hewas a newborn again, or perhaps even back in maria’s army, feral and immoral and surrounded by them. he felt all this, but also your enduring love, and sometimes this made it worse. he knew that the transformation locked whatever beliefs one held in place, and jasper couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d somehow tricked you into a trap. on that fateful night, he hadn’t meant to be selfish – he’d only wanted to save you. it would only be a long time afterwards that he’d confess this to you, all shame and regret. i would have loved you forever, anyway, you had said, wiping away his tears. i would’ve found a way back to you, even without the bite.

so he couldn’t quite tighten his grip yet, it seemed; jasper still had to be patient with you, lest he overwhelm you. back in that room, jasper hooked a finger through one of your belt loops, gently pulling you closer until you could hide away in him, head buried against his chest and hands clutching his back. with his strong arms around you, chin atop your head, it forced you to narrow your focus to jasper only: his weight (familiar), his touch (calloused fingers), his smell (blood and pine).

“i’m sorry,” you whimpered, ashamed and embarrassed and hungry. you hated what you’ve become, but it didn’t translate to jasper. you still loved him, oh so very much; he was incredibly patient with you, using his ability to calm you at nights so that you could pretend to sleep, doing the hunting for you, staying by your side despite that one time you almost broke his arm. but sometimes, this new life was too much, just too much. being awake all the time, feeling everything all the time, hearing every little thing – there was no break from it. there was this, but also the thirst – oh, the unspeakable thirst. your throat burned with it, making you feel like a vassal from hell itself.

“no, i’m sorry,” he said, running a hand through your hair. you couldn’t see it, but his brows furrowed as his face hardened. “i took so many choices away from you.”

you shook your head at his words, at his melancholy tone. you couldn’t quite remember what happened before you transformed, but what’s done is done. what mattered now – to you, at least – was that you find some normality again, and all of that lay with jasper. “i think i understand you a little bit better now,” you said, remembering the long, strange road that had led to your relationship. his winces when you neared, the tremble to his hand if you reached for it, the careful image of a vampire he crafted for you, never drinking blood in your presence. that eternal, preternatural sadness that sometimes haunted his golden eyes. you had sometimes thought him a little apathetic, but this was also a façade – you now knew that vampires felt everything, tenfold.

overstimulation continued to plague you, almost as damning as the thirst itself. but jasper was always there, willing to just lay with you, comfort you, hold you. eventually, he started to take you to a big lake when everything was just too overwhelming, where you could bask underwater without having to be assaulted by every sensation in some kind of cacophony.

one day, you were laying on the shore, water lapping around you. it was a dim, cloudy day, casting everything in cool, muted tones. while you were slowly coming to terms with this new, strange life of yours, you still needed a break from it – and it was in this, perhaps, that you could realise why jasper had decided to date you when you were still human. right now, he lifted himself up to his elbow beside you, his gaze bright and observant. a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

you couldn’t help it – you started to grin yourself. “what?” you asked, but jasper didn’t reply, tucking a stray strand of wet hair behind your ear. to him, you were so beautiful like this, carefree in the water with your clothes clinging to your skin. the ground was soft beneath, and the water cold, but your smile – sharp, fanged – warmed him. he’d been fearing that it would become a rare sight.

“your eyes, darlin’,” he murmured, leaning over you. “they’re turnin’ golden.” you scrunched your nose, making him hum before pressing a sweet kiss to your mouth. perhaps it sounded silly to you, but to jasper it meant that you were pulling through, as brave as you were. his darling. his heart. his love. “you’re gonna make it, sweetheart. we’re going to be alright.”

jasper’s smile was soft as he regarded you, your hand curling over his wrist as he cupped your cheek. there was so much to contend with still, concealed guilt and hurts that both of you possessed, but he was right. it had been a baptism of fire, but you were going to live this second life with jasper by your side, and you were going to be okay.

#jasper hale x reader #jasper hale imagine #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper hale x you #twilight fanfiction #twilight imagine #i def think vampires have to contend with sensory overload at the beginning #lmao idk how to title this

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mrsalwayswrite · 4 years

Text

Aes Sídhe (Finan x Reader) Part 1

This is my first time writing for The Last Kingdom fandom! I have adored the show since it came out but have always been too nervous to try and write for it. This idea came to mind though and would not leave me alone...so here it is.

Can be read as reader or OFC since there is no real description given.

I want to thank @geekandbooknerd and @medievalfangirl for your own amazing Finan writings. I am slightly embarrassed how many times I have gone back and reread them.

In regards to the title: from my understanding (granted I could be very wrong), an aes sídhe is an Irish term for a supernatural race in Irish and Scottish mythology, similar to fairies and elves.

Warnings: None

Words:2k

PART 2

Finan rose from his spot near the campfire. The sun had not yet set but Uhtred decided to make camp early. Not that Finan was complaining. They had been riding hard for days, heading back to Wintanceaster with news for King Alfred.

"Where are you off to?"

Finan glanced over at Osferth, who was laying on his side across from the campfire. "I'm going to wash my hands."

"You'll need to wash more than your hands to not smell like a pig sty."

"Oi! What was that, baby monk?" Finan tossed his blanket at the lad, the others around the fire smiling. "Do not lament my absence too much!" He started walking towards the nearby creek, away from their campsite.

"What would we miss? Life is quieter without you."

"I HEARD THAT, SIHTRIC!"

The sound of laughter followed the Irishman as he carefully made his way down the steep bank to the creek. Only a few paces of rocky sand separated the creek from the steep bank, which surrounded and kept the creek easily hidden. The last of the sunlight peeked through the trees all around. The forest was quiet, the only noises were the bubbling creek and the distant sound of those still around the campfire.

They had decided to camp above and some paces from the creek. It would have been impossible to maneuver the horses down the steep banks and being camped above allowed them to stand watch unencumbered. The only downfall was having to carry water up for the horses. Yet having watched Osferth douse himself when he tripped was worth it. The memory still made Finan chuckle.

Dropping down the last part of the steep bank, he moved to the edge of the creek. The small rocks and sand gave way under his boots. He splashed the cool water over his face and hands then took a moment to watch the droplets fall from his beard back into the creek. If the water had been deeper, he would have stripped down to fully cleanse himself. Alas, it was too shallow but even just cleaning what he could felt refreshing from the dust and sweat of the road.

With a sigh, he allowed the memories he venomously ignored to come forth. This place, the creek bed and the trees, the stillness and the sunlight...it reminded him of a favorite spot from his childhood. Where his brother and himself would sneak away to go looking for faerie mounds or kelpies, much to their mother's dismay. A lighter time. An easier time...before betrayal.

Harshly, he shoved the memories back and closed the lid on them. It did no good to think about them. He was here now. He was happy here. Uhtred was a brother he was bonded to and would readily give his life for. Sihtric and even Osferth were like younger brothers he looked out for. Clapa was a good friend. It was better he was here.

A soft plop in the water made him look up. He knew it was most likely an animal coming to drink or a rock sliding to cause the sound but long years of being a warrior and always on alert forced him to constantly be aware of his surroundings.

What he saw forcibly drew the breath from his lungs in a gasp.

A woman knelt on a large stone, several paces away and across the creek from him. With one hand dipped in the water making slow circles, she watched the ripples as if lost in thought. Her hair was draped over one shoulder, a yellow kingcup flower tucked behind her ear. With her face exposed, her ethereal beauty was on full display for him to bare witness to. There was nothing about her that would not cause the darkest envy in other women and the strongest lust in all men. She was beauty incarnate. A creature not of this world.

He was unable to remove his eyes, nor move or call out, spellbound to only her.

Suddenly she looked up and locked eyes with him. A noose around his neck would have had less of a binding hold on him. Her eyes both pierced and soothed his soul. Her very being a vision that summoned him as a man possessed. Yet he could not move nor break her enchantment. They stared at one another; eyes locked from across the creek.

Ever so slowly she stood up and it was only then he took into account what she was wearing. A thin, white shift covered her, but with the fading sunlight behind her, it was almost transparent. Her outline and curves caressed by the fabric, an enticement and illusion. Never had he witnessed a woman more perfect.

"Are...are you alright, my lady?" His words broke the spell, his tongue finally recalled how to function. But as soon as the words were released, he would have given anything to return them.

After one slow blink of those captivating eyes, she fled. Moving as silently and quickly as a shadow, she jumped off the rock and hurried away on the other side of the creek. Neither rocks nor sticks hindered her bare feet.

"Wait!" He cried out, stumbling over himself as he gave chase. He ran opposite of her, trying to keep her in his sights lest she vanish and he awaken from this dream.

She followed a bend in the creek, darting between two trees that stood sentry on the edge. Uncaring of his clothing, he darted across the creek, the water only reaching mid-calf. When he crossed over and rounded the bend, desperate for a glimpse of her, only the tranquil sight of the forest and creek lay before him. His eyes scoured everywhere, trying to catch a glimpse of her. There were no footprints his trained eyes could see, no markings that anyone had passed by. He scratched the back of his neck as he turned around once again, hoping he had missed something.

Yet there was nothing. She had vanished.

With a reluctant sigh, he turned to head back to camp. He had been gone long enough the others would question him. A bright spot of color amongst the dull colors of the rocks caught his eye. Moving closer he found a small bush of the kingcup flowers. Gently he stroked one of the many flowers' petals, remembering how they looked in her hair. On a whim, he plucked three and walked back to the stone she had knelt on.

"For you, aes sídhe." He whispered laying them down reverently. The bright yellow stood out on the gray stone, like the sun shining through on a cloudy day.

Looking around him once more, he crossed the creek and headed back towards camp. The further he walked, the more he began to question what he saw. A pinch to the arm proved he was not dreaming. Could it have been some kind of vision? He doubted that. He was not holy enough nor had enough drink to induce one.

"There he is!"

"Thought you had finally drown."

Finan threw himself on the ground next to his pack, ignoring the teasing of Osferth and Sihtric. He rubbed a hand over his beard and stared at the sky as the first few stars appeared in the sky. He could not get the image of her out of his head. So beautiful and pure.

A tickling in his ear brought his attention back to the present. He swatted at his ear and looked over to discover Uhtred next to him, a long blade of grass in hand and hovering over his head.

"What is bothering you?"

Finan sat up, his arms over his knees. "Aes sídhe."

"What?"

"Nothin'. Thought I had seen somethin' at the water."

Uhtred's brows furrowed slightly, trying to decipher his friend's meaning. "Well while you think, you have first watch. We drew straws earlier and you lost." He slapped Finan on the back.

"Sihtric rigged it."

"Lies!" Sihtric threw a clump of dirt at a chuckling Osferth. "It was Fate that chose."

"Why are you always throwing stuff at me?" Osferth whined, wiping the dirt mark off his robes.

"You deserve it."

Uhtred spoke. "It would seem we need to work on your reflexes."

"Yes, lord." Osferth sighed, eyes downcast.

"Don't worry, baby monk, I know what will help. We will take turns throwing knives at you. Eventually you'll dodge them."

Osferth groaned.

With a clap on Uhtred's shoulder, Finan got up to settle against a tree nearby that offered a better spot for watching the camp and its surroundings. In truth he did not mind being on first watch tonight. With memories of her, clinging to him like summer's heat, he knew sleep would elude him. He tried to push the thoughts of her aside but to no avail. In truth he doubted he would ever be able to forget her.

***

The next morning, a rough kick to his back woke him. He groaned, attempting to rub the sleep from his eyes as he sat up.

"I never thought you one for flowers, Finan." Sihtric said, walking to the other side of the camp.

"What?"

Osferth piped up, head swiveling, looking from Finan to Sihtric. "Or perhaps it is from a special lady?"

"What lady is around here besides the horses?" Sihtric snorted.

"Maybe it is a horse?"

"What are ya fools talkin' about?" Finan eyed the smirks on the faces of those around him. His mind refused to fully abandon the land of dreams. There had been something... something on the edge of his consciousness but he could not recall it now.

"Behind you." Uhtred nodded towards Finan's pack.

Unsure, he looked to his pack on his other side…and froze. The kingcup flowers lay next to where his head had just been, but this time, a thin white strip of fabric bound the flowers together. Hesitantly he reached out and touched the flowers then fabric, in awe when he could feel their texture beneath his fingers.

She was not a dream or vision.

Without warning he rose to his feet and scanned around him. He ignored the confused looks of his companions. Only on a second scan did he glimpse something. On further inspection, it was the slightest indent of footprints amongst the grasses. It was too small to be any of Uhtred's men. Plus, the blades were barely bent by whose feet stepped on them, they would have been easy to miss.

"Finan?"

He realized he looked like a madman, first startled by flowers and searching for a sign around them. He stood up, arms crossed when he turned back. "Yes, lord?"

"Something amiss?"

He wondered if he should tell them. Their camp had been infiltrated and no one knew it. Yet as he opened his mouth, the words died on his tongue.

"No, I just...it must have been a dream."

"If you say." The Dane-Slayer did not look like he fully believed his friend but would let it go this time. "We leave soon."

Ignoring those around him, he knelt in front of his pack. Memories of her, still so sharp even after sleep, came forth unaided. He gently touched the white strip of cloth, reminiscent of her thin shift. Had she torn the strip from it? Before the others could notice, he stuck the flowers in his pack and the cloth up his arm-guard.

He looked one last time towards the creek. "Go dtí go mbuailfimid le chéile arís, mo aes sídhe." (Until we meet again, my aes sídhe.)

"WE RIDE!" Uhtred called then sent his horse into a canter, his men following him loyally.

Finan could not help one last glance over his shoulder. If he thought he caught a glimpse of a white shift and a form peeking out from between the trees, he could not prove it. He turned back to following the others. In his mind he prayed that this would not be the last time he saw her.

#The Last Kingdom #the last kingdom fandom #the last kingdom fanfic #finan x reader #finan x ofc #finan the agile #finan the last kingdom #uhtred ragnarson #osferth #sihtric #clapa #mz writes

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gingerwritess · 4 years

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i just reread the library fic and wow i need another fic set in asgard !! i just love the idea of loki being completely in his element and dressing in his traditional royal clothes and being a prince and all that :))

oh this is so long but OH I LOVE IT SO

ok we’ve got some…prince Loki, fiance Loki, BLUSHING LOKI, and mentions of drinking and bars (and very little proofing) ok enjoy!!

― ― ― ―

You’ve yet to fully grasp the fact that you and Jane Foster are making Asgardian history.

Just think of the scandal of it all: the princes of the realm of the gods, probably the most wanted husbands in all the realms, who’ve been in many a wanting eye through their years…

And they both picked humans.

Migardians, from the “gods are sent here when they’re grounded” realm, the universe’s middle child—the one the gods until recently didn’t mind to just ignore.

You’re sure the All-parents are thrilled. Between the first time you met Odin through now, his smiles remain strained, and you can’t exactly miss the multitude of pointed, stern looks that Queen Frigga throws his way.

All that aside, it’s still you, the mortal, who’s lounging in her own private bathing chambers of the palace, an old book reading “Courtship: Aesir Tradition” in hand.

The room is bigger than should be considered appropriate, the tub itself rivaling even the nicest swimming pools you’ve ever seen. Rows upon rows of faucets fill the in-ground tub with streams of water that the chambermaid had informed you will hold their temperature over time, and the sweet-smelling bubbles that lay atop the water float through the air to fill the entire chamber with the scent of dark roses and enchantment.

A bubble bath in the land of the gods. One doesn’t exactly say no.

Choosing which soap to use may have been the biggest struggle you’ve had to date—one of the ornate mirrors on the stone walls had opened to reveal probably a hundred differently coloured glass vials, each with a small rune scratched into the front.

The first vial you’d uncorked smelled distinctly like burnt marshmallows, and you’d quickly tucked it back onto the shelf.

Sickeningly sugary, it might not be the best idea to tempt Loki’s ridiculous sweet tooth with yourself during your stay.

Frosted evergreens, heavy, sweet vanilla, the coconut waves on a beach, a musky, leathery scent and you’re left swooning, wrapped in a towel as the tub fills behind you.

One vial, one left uncorked, you lift it to your nose and grin to yourself—that’s the one Loki must use.

Probably best that you don’t use the same, otherwise you’ll be smelling like Loki smothered you in some corner and followed you to bed, which might not be the best rumor to spread, given the dirty looks you’re already getting when the ring glints off your hand.

You settle on a small red vial. It smells like jasmine in the rain and compliments the dark, musky, sweet scent of your royal fiance perfectly.

It turns the water a rosy colour when you pour it in, the sweet scent filling the entire chamber, and you lower yourself into the warm water and break back into your book.

Per ancient tradition, gifts are typically shared between the two to be wed. A small knife or dagger is to be expected, and—

The heavy door bangs open and you shriek, nearly dropping the book in the water.

Loki gasps, coupled with your own shout at him to “avert your eyes, your majesty!” and he claps both hands over his face, spinning on his heel to turn his back to you.

“Why don’t you knock?!”

“I didn’t think you’d be bathing!”

“And what else would I be doing in here, dipshit??”

Loki’s shoulders dip. Oh, he’s laughing.

“Did you really just tell me to ‘avert my eyes?’”

You chuck the book at him, but it falls flat before it hits him. “Shut up, idiot.”

Taking a couple backwards steps towards you and the tub, he bends to pick up the book, turning it over with a low hum.

“Courtship? Do you intend to court someone, m’lady?”

“I do indeed,” you reply, resting your elbows on the edge of the bath and staring at his back. “There’s this one prince I just can’t get out of my head.”

“Annoying sort of fellow?”

“The worst. He’s nosy, too, and a little perverted, he likes to barge in on people while they bathe.”

“Sounds like a charmer to me,” Loki says, and you can hear his grin. “You should court him to the day he dies. And maybe…allow him the honour of turning around?”

“Get out,” you laugh, splashing water at his booted feet. “Why are you even in here this late? I distinctly recall, your majesty, our curfew for being seen together is precisely midnight.”

“Ah, yes…yet both of us are still awake.” Still turned away from you, Loki lowers himself to the ground at the edge of the bath, crossing his legs under him and flipping through the book. “And we’re together. Positively scandalising.”

You scoop up a handful of bubbles and smear it over his hair. “Seriously, Loki. What are you doing in here? Couldn’t sleep?”

“I have a plan,” he answers, leaning back on his hands with a sigh. “A grand, evil plan for the two of us irresponsible lovebirds to get into some trouble.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. Have you ever tried Asgardian ale, darling?”

You suppress a shudder. “That’s not what they served at dinner, was it?”

“No, no.” His head turns ever-so-slightly to the side - the curl of his lips is visible, and you sink lower in the water to stay covered. “That was clearly boar’s blood, sweetling.”

You smack him upside the head.

“Kidding,” he laughs, reaching behind him to grab your wrist. “I’m joking. That was Alderblóm nectar. Not to your liking?”

“It was sour,” you huff, trying to no avail to tug your hand from his grip.

“The trick is to have only a few drops of it in a flagon of liquor,” Loki nonchalantly says, absently twirling your ring around your ring finger. “Drown it in a sweet alcohol and it tastes much, much better.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. Now let me go, please, and get your royal butt out of here so I can finish my bath.”

“But you haven’t heard my proposition.”

“And what might that be?” Your head drops to your free arm, resting on the edge of the bath.

“You finish your bath,” he hums, reaching behind him with his other hand to try and find you again, but you duck away with a laugh. “With my assistance, should you request it, then I whisk you off on a forbidden adventure that I’m certain most of Asgard would deem inappropriate.”

“Coming from you, that sounds like a terrible idea.”

Loki laughs, hand still searching. “It is, I can promise you that.”

You grab his wrist, pressing a kiss to the cool skin there. “You better watch it, your majesty. Keep your devilish hands to yourself.”

“Mm…no, I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

“Gonna have to. I’m following the rules, sunshine, if I’m going to be an honorary princess of this realm, I have a lot of impressing to do–”

“Queen,” Loki butts in. “Princess of Asgard, yes, but practically Queen of Jotunheim.”

“Damn, I did good.”

His head falls back with a laugh. “As did I. Somehow. Now, will you come with me?”

Back still turned, he lifts your hand to his lips, placing the first soft kiss to your knuckles and another over your ring.

“You’re really hard to say no to,” you sigh, leaning your head against his back. “I’ll go, but you’re going to teach me the rest of what I’ll be missing in my book, okay?”

An excited grin lighting his face, Loki picks up your book with a playful scoff.

“Courtship? Easy,” he declares, pulling himself to his feet and snapping the book closed. “Hold hands. Speak kindly. Respect and support each other, and…oh, I’ve forgotten one.”

“I read something about a dagger–”

“Mm, yes, the royal tying of the tongues.”

Even facing away from you, he can feel your unamused eyebrow shoot into the air.

“It’s…ceremonial. Can’t get around it. I’ll have to demonstrate—”

“Get out,” you groan, an undeniable warmth spreading through your chest when he laughs. “Get out of here before I change my mind, idiot, I’ll be right out.”

He sulks to the door, resting his forehead against it for a moment with a dramatic sigh. “I’m only a shout away,” he reminds you. “Just outside this door, all by my lonesome, feeling oh-so unloved…”

“I’ll be right out, Loki.”

— — — —

He’s lounging on your bed when you walk out, a softer-than-silk robe wrapped tight around you, and his scalding gaze tracks your every move as you fish your pjs out of your suitcase.

“I’m not wearing anything fancy,” you tell him, spinning a finger at him to turn around. “I was planning on sleeping, but alas.”

“Duty calls, hm?” He obliges you, back turned so you can change. “That’s quite alright. Where we are going…it’s not exactly high-end.”

“And where are we going?”

“Firstly, the stables. Quietly.”

Once you’re ready, he pokes his head out the door, giving the hallway a quick check before ushering you out of the room.

A giddy Loki is definitely a rare sight, but here he is, grinning to himself and holding onto your hand tightly as you sneak down hallways and duck into hidden outcroppings whenever a guard clanks by.

These two, their golden helmets gleaming in the candlelight, glide past the two of you as you hold your breath, pressing yourself to the wall.

“Can’t they see us?” You whisper, sure that if the turned their heads in the slightest, the two of you would be caught. “We’re just standing here, can’t they—”

Loki brings a finger to his lips, then beckons you towards him around another corner.

A quiet step and your other foot touches down, soft and slippered, and you bolt into Loki’s arms with a giggled sigh of relief.

“To all eyes but mine, right now, you are concealed,” he explains, arm sliding around your waist. “You’re marrying a master sorcerer, darling, lest you forget that our sneaking is just beginning—”

Feet practically screeching to a stop, you clap a hand over his mouth.

Look.

Loki follows your finger, eyes widening when his gaze falls on his mother, lounging gracefully along a sofa, head on her hand and nose buried in a book.

Not a sound, not a single sound, Loki mouths, grip tightening on your hand as he inches along the furthest wall.

You’ve never seen Loki looks so…not exactly scared, but cautious. Like he knows someone has more power than him.

But with the grip he has on your hand, his focused, anxious gaze, and constant shushing, you have to bite back a giggle—it’s not like Frigga can ground him anymore, right?

“You’ll need a cloak, dear.”

Loki freezes. You run into his back with a thud, still trying to smother your laughter.

“G-good evening, Allmother.”

She doesn’t even bother to look up from her book, a playful smile on her lips. “Don’t pass the throne room until you’ve strengthened your charm, Loki. Odin is still awake.”

“Are you going to tell?”

It’s a child’s question, nervous and defeated, and you fall head over heels for the innocent twinkle in Loki’s eye.

“Tell what?” She smiles, winks. “I’ve seen nothing.”

The queen waves a hand towards the two of you, and a thick cloak of dark green floats down around your shoulders, fastening itself under your chin with a golden leaf.

“Oh, thank you,” you quickly blurt, awestruck. “Thank you, your majesty!”

“We’ll leave you be,” Loki says, grabbing your hand again—this time with an excited little grin and a mischievous spark lighting his eye. “Thank you, Frigga.”

When she does look up from her book, she smiles kindly at the two of you with a nod, and Loki bows his head ever-so-slightly.

“Mother.”

You suppose it would be inappropriate to yank him into a smothering kiss right now.

But you do, the moment you’ve run through the palace gates and into the dark stables, grabbing his wrist and crashing into the kiss, chest to chest and already out of breath.

His eyes are slow to flutter open when you pull away, the hand behind his neck not letting him get much further away from your lips than needed to kiss you again.

“What was that for?”

“Everything,” you whisper, lips brushing over his. “I’m proud of you.”

He just laughs, awkward and adorable as ever.

“Let’s leave, before the guards come looking.”

The ride on horseback seems ridiculously short, with how fast the horse moves, leaving you scrambling to hold tight to Loki’s waist.

It’s begun to rain, drops whipping past you as the two of you fly through a lush grove of trees, straight through a shallow river that stains the hem of your cloak; your cheek pressed firmly between his shoulder blades, only a bridge stands between you and a smaller city. Smaller, but just as beautiful as that of the palace.

Thankfully, the horse slows as the lights come into view, slowing to a cheerful trot. Even as late as it is, this little town is still bustling with life, and Loki gives a small wave to a bundled-up child staring as your horse trots by.

“This place is cozy,” you remark, finally able to loosen your grip on him—but only a little.

“I haven’t been here in years.” He guides the horse down a narrow street, bright, flickering lanterns lighting the way. “This was the stomping ground for Thor and I when we needed to get away from the royalty of the palace. The city never sleeps, and they’ve always respected a person’s secrets.”

“Secrets?”

“Well, Asgardian sixteen year olds weren’t technically supposed to be drinking yet. Much less if they are princes.”

“You little rebel,” you laugh, and hug him tighter around the waist. “Always one to break the rules.”

“Not breaking the rules,” he corrects with a chuckle, bringing the horse to a stop. “Just bending them.“

With that, he slides off the horse’s back and reaches for you, helping you down to the ground, mud splashing onto your ankles when your feet touch down.

“Hopefully, no one will recognise us.” Loki draws the hood of his cloak over his head, and you quickly follow suit.

“Is it a problem if they do?” You ask, not quite liking the concern in his voice.

“Perhaps,” he answers gravely, then turns to you with a bright smile. “But no matter. I won’t let anything come even close to harming you.”

Then he marches towards the door of a small, run-down pub, hand intertwined with yours, leaving you sputtering after him.

“H-HARM ME?? Loki! Loki, what are you—what’s going to harm me??”

The wooden door to the pub conveniently crashes open right in time with a roll of thunder, and the entire rowdy pub screeches to a silent halt.

All staring at the two of you in the doorway.

“Well, as I live and breathe,” the bartender gasps. “Loki.”

“Damn.”

The pub, cozy and crowded, bursts into an uproar.

“What the hell is this?” You shriek, ducking behind Loki as a glass crashes to the floor.

“They recognised us,” Loki replies. “And that’s our cue to leave.”

He ducks under another glass and ushers you to the door, wincing as a plate shatters against the wall, but the bartender, a burly, hulking, trunk of a man, steps in front of the door.

“Loki Odinson,” the man tuts, crossing his arms. “What would a prince like you be doin’ in a place like this?”

Loki’s grip on your hand tightens. A knuckle pops.

“Bjarke!” He feigns sudden glee, reaching up to clap the man on the arm. “So lovely to see you again. We’ve just come for a drink, my good man, could you serve the royal family once more?”

“I don’t have t’ serve you nothin’.”

“We are, ah, naught but travellers,” Loki laughs, voice smooth and calm—but the grip he has on your hand tells you otherwise. “Treat us as nothing else, nothing more than any other traveller with a thirst to quench.”

A compelling argument, you’re sure, with the two of you in gold-adorned cloaks—and your worn-down pjs, which you’re sure scream nothing short of “entitled midgardian.”

“Ah, is that what y’ are?” The great lumbering man sneers, moustache curled. “Not here t’ complain any longer, are you?” He spreads his arms, casting a slow look around the crowded, silent pub. “The prissy prince has returned, folks. Get ‘im a napkin for his royal buttocks before he has us all beheaded.”

Raucous laughter goes about the dim room, and you tug on Loki’s arm. “Let’s just go,” you murmur. “We can just get something from the kitchens. It’s not worth it.”

In a perfect world, you’d like to think he considered it, at least for half a moment, but his jaw clenches and brow furrows and you know it’s a lost cause.

“Don’t tell me you’re still going on about that one little hiccup, Bjarke.” Voice dropping, Loki takes a step towards the man blocking the door—dragging you along with him, keenly aware of the knife in the cutting board behind him and the glass mug in his hand.

“Oh, I am,” Bjarke sneers, meeting Loki’s advances with his own until they’re nearly chest to chest. “Y’really screwed me over, for a good long time of this business’s life.”

There’s a few scattered nods and murmurs of agreement, and you’re left mind reeling with ideas of just how badly Loki could’ve offended this little pub.

“Look,” Loki tries again, this time thankfully raising his hands. “My fiancé and I only came for a drink and to be unbothered for one night, can’t we move past this—”

“Fiancé!” The man roars, banging his fist against one of the support beams above him. “The ‘lil Loki has himself a fiancé, doe’n’he? Well, I’m just glad this time he brought his own whore—”

“That’s quite enough, Bjarke,” Loki cries, and you gape at him in surprise—he sounds desperate. “Please!”

“Loki, my boy, Loki,” he chortles, wrapping one giant arm around Loki’s shoulders and the other around yours. “We kidd. All is forgiven, my boy, you and yours’re welcome ‘ere, anytime.”

Loki lets out a quiet sigh of relief, sagging slightly under the weight of Bjarke’s arm. It might be the lighting in the little pub, but you’re pretty sure he’s flushed deep red, too.

Leaving you immensely confused, but glad nonetheless that the hurled dishes have ceased.

“Thank you,” he says earnestly, reaching around the big man to give your arm a reassuring squeeze. “I do apologise for that whole…debacle. Though I don’t regret it; this place reeked.”

“What was the debacle?” You ask, fighting to peek around Bjarke’s bulging beer-belly to see your lover in question. “And can we, um, grab a table or something? Not that I don’t love your armpits, Bjarke.”

He lets out a burst of hearty laughter, letting the two of you go and pushing you towards the bar top. “I like you,” he announces loudly, resuming his place behind the bar as the rest of the little pub thankfully goes back to their drinks. “You’re good for this kid, but I dunno if ‘e’s good for you, bringin’ you t’ places like mine.”

“This is much better than the palace,” you admit, eyes widening when he sets a mug of something down in front of you—it’s about the length of your forearm and smells like a fireplace—slightly concerning. “Well, I mean, they’re both nice, but I can only look at so many shades of green before I go colourblind, y’know?”

“We’ve eaten nearly four cakes a day,” Loki adds, eagerly accepting his own drink. “I need something salty, something spiced, anything but sugar and icing, even just for one night.”

It’s true, and even as shocked as you were to watch Loki, the king of sweet-teeth, turn down his fifth sample of wedding cake, you can’t blame him. This whole “wedding” ordeal is turning into a much bigger deal than you expected.But then again, you seem to keep forgetting that one, you’re marrying a god, and two, he’s royalty.

He talks to Bjarke with ease, smiling and laughing and drinking his drink as they exchange tales, looking every bit the young prince that was beaten out of him.

Lifting the mug to your lips, your other hand slips inconspicuously to his thigh, squeezing lightly.

Then you spew your drink across the bar.

“What the hell—what is that, fire?!”

Loki nearly leaps out of his seat, lips involuntarily turning up as you retch, grabbing the nearest cup of water and gulping it down.

“Are you alright?” He asks gently, waving the cackling Bjarke away. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve warned you, it tastes like fire, feels like it, too…”

“No shit,” you laugh, trying to catch your breath. “Hi, yeah, mortal here, I’ll take something that won’t melt my fragile insides, please.”

“Sorry, menskr. Here, try this.” Still fighting back his laughter, Bjarke hands you a much smaller glass, this liquid a sparkling clear. “I give this to my young ‘uns, might ease you into the finer liquors.”

“What was that other one?” You ask, giving this drink a tentative sip. “Ooh, much better.”

“The fire one was mjoðr,” Loki answers, scooting a bit closer to you with the remnants of his own laughter on his face. “Or as most Asgardians call it, Odin’s milk, óðins-mjoðr.”

“Oath-mah-joether.”

Loki looks pained.

“An age-old Asgardian, with pronunciation like that,” Bjarke retorts with a chuckle. “She’s a wise one, Ormstunga, keep ‘er close.”

“Ormstunga? What’s that mean?”

“Serpent tongue.” Loki winks. “Your kind has named me silvertongue, but here, it’s slightly different.”

“I don’t think I want to know how you got that reputation,” you decide, gulping down more of your drink—liquid diamonds, hitting your tongue, and you quickly request a refill.

Bjarke readily complies, handing Loki a second giant mug as well. “Oh, I could tell you,” he snickers, and out of the corner of your eye, you catch Loki pale.

“That’s really not necessary, my friend.”

“Oh, it really is,” you butt in, eagerly scooting closer.

Old stories of a young, rebellious Prince Loki?

You’ll stay all night, if you have to.

“Let’s see, ‘e would’ve been just around eight-hundred,” Bjarke starts, scratching at his chin. “Sorry, ‘bout sixteen for you mortal folk. Thor ‘n his pals, they brought Loki ‘ere, wanted to commemorate his becomin’ a man, y’know?”

“We really don’t need to be repeating this story,” Loki tries again, taking your hand in his and trying to tug you away from the bar—you stay firmly planted, tugging him right back into his seat with a grin.

“Not a chance, love.”

“Anyways,” Bjarke continues, his own grin growing by the second. “They practically drowned the poor boy, I still dunno how he stomached so much alcohol, but by the end of the night, he’d become a serpent, a bilgesnipe, some kinda bird I ain’t ever seen, a woman, even, then a little boy—he couldn’t pick who t’ be, ‘e was so hammered!”

Loki grimaces, head dropping to his hands with a sigh.

“Don’t stop there,” you beg, throwing an arm around Loki and planting a loud kiss on his cheek.

“Well, I fed ‘im some bread ‘n Loki managed to get back to this form, but ‘is brother ‘n their friends wanted to set ‘im up with a lady, by that point. Fandral, that bastard, tried to hire one o’ the locals, but Ormstunga over here convinced them that he couldn’t do more than kiss a gal, much less bed ‘er—”

“Oh,” you say, realisation slapping you across the face. “Yeah, maybe I don’t want to hear this.”

“I tried to warn you,” Loki mutters, face in his hands, positively mortified.

“No, it’s not that bad, I promise!” Bjarke bursts out laughing again, clapping Loki on the shoulder—Loki still doesn’t lift his burning face, though. “Nah, the lady agreed, o’course, who doesn’t wanna kiss a prince, ‘n Loki, barely able to pull himself off the bar—oh, did I mention? He climbed onto the bar top, fell asleep for a good while. I didn’t bother ‘im, the poor lad.”

“Thank you for that,” Loki cuts in, voice muffled in his arms.

“Ah, my pleasure. So ‘e lifts ‘imself off the bar, leans in t’ kiss this random gal, all ‘is friends hollarin’ up a storm, and ‘e does it. Lip-locked ‘n pretending to be the suave ‘lil bugger ‘e wanted t’ be.”

Your heart twists helplessly, just at the mere mention. You know it’s nothing of any importance, and yeah, it happened a few centuries ago, but still…hearing every grimy detail, you could do without.

“So Loki kissed some girl,” you say, trying to keep your voice loft and carefree. “What’s so bad about that?”

Loki just shakes his head on the bar top next to you.

“Yeah, ‘e kissed ‘er alright,” Bjarke laughs, and you try not to roll your eyes. “But then, then she goes in for more, and the whole pub’s in an uproar, yellin’ ‘n watchin’ their prince, but Loki’s done. I could tell, poor boy, ‘e was done before she even started, but instead of tellin’ ‘er so, ‘e turns ‘is tongue into a snake.”

“He…what?”

“’E turned ‘is tongue into a serpent!” Bjarke cackles gleefully at the memory, shoving Loki playfully in the shoulder. “Couldn’t ‘ave just said ‘aye, ‘m done, get off me, whore,’ nah, ‘e turns ‘is tongue into a snake and waits for ‘er t’ scream! And scream she did, norns, I ain’t ever heard a scream like that.”

“Oh my god.” You burst out laughing, the scene playing in your mind over and over. “Geez, Loki, tell me you didn’t.”

“I did,” your fiance groans, shoving you lightly in the arm. “Are you quite done? Happy with your backstory, darling?”

“Gotta say, I’m not disappointed,” you laugh, wiping at your eyes. “I never thought it came from your literal serpent-tongue, but boy, was I wrong…”

“You’re welcome, Ormstunga,” Bjarke grins, passing the two of you another round of drinks. “Look at that laugh. Worth the embarrassment, no?”

Loki lifts his burning face, a helpless grin spreading over his lips as he watches you try to catch your breath from laughing so hard.

“Every second of it.”

“Okay, okay,” you wheeze, grabbing onto Loki’s arm for support. “But what about silvertongue, then? I gotta know that one, what’s the story there—”

Bjarke opens his mouth, moustache practically curling as he readies himself to launch into another story, but Loki lifts a hand to the lumbering bartender and stops his voice in his throat.

“That one…” Loki grins, a devilish glint to his eye. “Well, just wait until the night of our wedding. You’ll be able to answer that question yourself.”

Bjarke’s eyes widen and he flushes, sputtering behind the grin he wears—it’s refreshing, seeing the young prince happy again. Sneaking around, teasing, being in love.

“Oh my…oh, you’re troublesome, Loki, not in my scared bar, take your unholy innuendos elsewhere—”

You just laugh, pure and clear as crystal, and practically climb into Loki’s lap to snatch his lips in a kiss so sweet, the fiery liquor still on Loki’s tongue could be nothing more than honey.

― ― ― ―

feel free to send me ideas!!

fuel the writer?

~ masterlist link in my bio ~

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424 @paradisaicsam @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas @doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs @scarlettghost13 @rocks-are-pretty-odd @confessionsofastrugglingteen @easilydistractedwriter @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fluffyllamaswearinghats @milktearose @lcyouinhell @h0tshotholland @dontmesswithmemundane @southsidesarcasticwriter @helnik-s @lilith-akemi @fire-in-her-veinz @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mischievousbellerina @kcd15 @mellowgirl01 @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @allthingzhiddleston @scorpionchild81 @lokixme @blue-automne @galaxycharmed @devilbat @kangaroobunny @end-up-well @planetariumx @sarcsep @mrfandomtastic @amaru163 @im-way-too-many-fandoms @caswinchester2000 @kybaeza @wester-than-west @vintagesunshinebitch @adefectivedetective @poetic-nikolai @moonduhsted @kerri-masson @iamverity @innaminitus @spnbarnes @narcissxblack @woohoney @anxiousamandapanda @padmeisgay @authordreaming13 @lokisironthrone @theunknowinglys @highfuncti0ningfangirl @epicfallenismine @stubby-toe-589331 @fandomnerdsarecool @retrofantasyland @arch-venus25 @forever-trapped-in-my-dreams @littleredstarfish @marshyrebelcloud @okie–loki @atterodominatus @stfxlou @pandacookieowo @tonakings @shinisenko @tinchentitri @nildespirandum @thefallenbibliophilequote @vodka-and-some-sass @highfunctioningfangirl19 @sadwaywardkid @lokioneshot @brooksaza @wild-honey-piy @ellaenchanted91

#loki x reader #loki reader insert #loki imagine #loki x reader fluff #loki requests #loki in asgard!#loki engaged #loki fanfiction #loki drabbles #loki laufeyson #loki fluff

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elmidol · 4 years

Text

Error: Program Not Found - Twelve

Summary: You are in charge of programming the droids that work most closely with both General Hux and Kylo Ren. Unbeknownst to you, each of these two men have it in their heads that your relationship extends beyond the workplace. This causes things to escalate quickly when your two apparently secret boyfriends compare notes on their respective partner who is far too similar for their liking.

Read on AO3

“Never get so busy making a living that you forget to make a life.” - Dolly Parton

Twelve: Confirmation

Aelin had proven himself to be quite indecisive when selecting the meals he would bring. The delay for his return was better explained as you beheld the seven cartons--three of which happened to contain complete meals in themselves while the other four possessed entrees or sides suitable for multiple people. Alongside the fruit tea there was a bottle of water that had been thrown in for free. Aelin had chosen to give the water to you considering he already had three other drinks for himself; another of the fruit tea though this one with added mnt, an extra large thermos filled with strong brewed caf, and some carbonated beverage that had its name written in foreign script. Your eyes darted along each of the food boxes. How in the blazes had he carried it all? This was an inquiry where, the second after you had thought it, you were grateful to not have spoken. There were occasions you forgot about stormtroopers and that certain planets, while not having slaves, kept the use of hired help for mundane tasks.

You sank down onto the chair opposite Aelin’s at the presently overcrowded small table. Your datapad and comlink both remained on the bed you had chosen. It was with a thrill you remembered the messages from Anonymous and Unknown. Biting the insides of your cheeks, you grabbed hold of your tea and dragged it closer. The pleasurable tingling within refused to leave. Your orgasm had delivered a sort of high that periodically robbed you of the ability to breathe. Aelin had already questioned you twice despite having only returned eight minutes ago. His eyes once more roamed your face in search of some undisclosed malady. You met his gaze whilst lifting the tea towards your mouth and taking the first drink.

The sweet flavor of the fruit mingled well with the spices of the blend. It rolled along your tongue. Caused the flesh of your arms to blossom in light bumps. The tea was much different than Tarine tea, and you found yourself wondering how General Hux would react to its flavor. Was this something he would hate? Likewise, did Kylo Ren avoid sweets?

“Should we ask if anyone else is hungry?” Thoughts of a similarly large order of food at breakfast time lessened your appetite and made your wallet scream in terror. Aelin popped open the container nearest to him without looking at you. The man was not rude, or at least you could not recall a time that he had treated you in a manner that had left any bitter feelings. Your attention darted to the door. “You didn’t.”

The noise he made was noncommittal, however it was quite clear that he had indeed invited General Hux and Kylo Ren for food. You slouched in your seat and scowled at the man. It was not as though Aelin was privy to the fact that you had--hopefully--just been messaging the two men prior to his arrival. That you had masturbated to messages they had sent you. The buzz that you had been experiencing since masturbating at long last waned. Footsteps on the other side of the door drew nearer. Aelin stood from his seat, walked over to the door, and opened it before there was time for the men on the other side to knock. You gave a quick look at Kylo Ren and General Hux then returned your eyes to the food on the table. Both men had drinks in their hands.

The lack of proper seating in the room had you wondering why you had suggested inviting others at all along with whether or not this was something the three men had already considered. There were no stormtroopers bringing in more chairs. You seized hold of your two drinks and dragged them to the bedside table. Shoved at your datapad and comlink until they were underneath your pillow. Kylo Ren and General Hux walked past. You felt their gazes trail along you. The hammering of your heart increased in intensity, the pounding echoing in your ears. The timing was absolutely dreadful! Had Aelin invited them before he had returned? It would explain some of the food.

He should have told me. It took great effort to refrain from scowling. Your superiors settled into the seats that were at the table. Aelin, too, had been grabbing his drinks to shift them over to his own bedside table. You caught his eye while your back was to General Hux and Kylo Ren. Aelin’s bottom lip protruded forward a fraction when you glowered at him. These were not your first choice of dinner guests, at least not this evening.

“Mm. Is the tea any good then?” General Hux might have been saking either you or Aelin--perhaps both even--for an opinion on the beverage. Given that Aelin had mint in his, it would make sense that, if he knew, General Hux was indeed asking for both opinions. Your mind nevertheless flashed to the messages that you had sent. Had that been to General Hux or Kylo Ren?

Aelin grunted while pulling a disposable plastic plate out from one of the bags that had been set beside the cartons of food. “It’s crisp.” He ran his tongue along his lips, thought a moment, and continued. “Depending where you order, they will add more spices. I kept it simple with mint.” He gestured towards you with his thumb and uttered your name. “She has the regular blend.”

General Hux transferred his attention onto you. Somehow you managed to keep from shrinking under his gaze. “How is it?” You were listening for any underlying teasing. Noticed the way Kylo Ren shifted in his seat. A subtle change of the position of his shoulders. You shrugged and muttered out a light fine. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yes.” Clipped. Now Kylo Ren did turn around with his torso and head to look directly at you. You mentally fought for a way to remedy the situation. Eyes darted about the cartons of food. The gloved hands of the two men. Oh! “You should wash your hands.” General Hux looked down at his leather glove. “Those are probably dirty. Take them off. If we are sharing food, I…” Are you ordering around your superiors? You clucked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Waited for Kylo Ren to tease you, to state that you were being a nagging girlfriend or something of the like.

Kylo Ren opened the smaller carton that was beside his drink, which he had placed on the table after sitting. Gloved fingers dipped into the folds of the next carton, parting them. A third. He opened each carton of food despite the look of exasperation that General Hux shot him. Ignored entirely the way Aelin’s eyebrows rose and yours knitted towards one another in a glare more potent than the one you had shot Aelin. If it had been General Hux and Kylo Ren you had been messaging, you were more convinced that Kylo Ren had been the one to send you the fantasy regarding fucking you in front of senators. Maker, why did that still excite you when he was being like this?

“Do you think I’m dirty?” There it was. There was the verbal teasing that irked you while also causing a delectable shiver to run along your spine. The way his mask's vocoder warbled his voice was undeniable enticing.

Not a one of you responded to him with words. General Hux chose to react in a different manner. He raised his left hand so that its back was to Kylo Ren then pinched the leather at the tip of his middle finger and began to pull. The glove slowly slid off his hand, revealing the pale flesh that lay beneath. He repeated the actions with the second glove. Placed both, one atop the other, on the corner of the table and then rose to make his way to the bathroom sink to wash his hands. Kylo Ren’s visor was pointed at the gloves. You could not help but wonder if he was considering obliging your request--demand--as General Hux was doing. A sort of pissing contest that you could most definitely get behind.

While the water audibly ran, Kylo Ren lifted his hands to his helmet and released its latches. Though you had seen his face on other occasions, you could not help but stare as he revealed it again. Aelin, on the other hand, did not look in Kylo Ren’s direction. He was more focused on loading his plate up with food. General Hux returned to the room and began to act similarly. You watched them make their selections. Aelin had a good balance of vegetables and proteins. General Hux stuck with the more bland foods, grabbing carbs more than anything else. Though he had opened all of the cartons, Kylo Ren did not make a move to dish himself up the food.

You stepped closer. The aroma of food was reminding you just how hungry you were. Saliva gathered in your mouth and you promptly swallowed around nothing to rid yourself of some lest you begin drooling. You lifted up the final two plates that had been provided. Kylo Ren blinked when you slid the second in front of him. General Hux, too, paused as he noticed. He settled back into the chair, which was the one that Aelin had sat in when you had occupied the other. Their reactions had you unsure how to proceed. Were you being too comfortable with Kylo Ren? Too nurturing?

“Is the senator here?” you asked, the desire to make some form of conversation overwhelming. You did not want to stay in your head too much. The day thus far had been enjoyable despite hiccups.

Kylo Ren responded instead of General Hux. “I was not aware that a pop quiz would occur during our meal.”

His words stole your breath away and caused your heart to skip a beat. Had Kylo Ren been Anonymous? Was this a mere coincidence? You stared at his face in search of an answer yet found none. Your attention wavered only when General Hux spoke to inform you that he had not yet received confirmation one way or the other in regards to the senator’s presence. With that said, Aelin had extended an invitation for General Hux and Kylo Ren to join the two of you for a meal in order to help prepare for that possibility. Again did your mind flash to the two fantasies that you had received. It would be far less appealing a thing if that specific senator was one of the audience members.

You started to load up your plate as Aelin’s voice drew you out of your head. He was concerned that the senator would leak not only the potential TR8-0R project but the others that he had helped to finance as well. You scowled at the thought. There were those that would not harm the First Order if they were leaked. Others were a huge security risk. Furthermore it was the idea that these suppliers would pull out of negotiations that made your stomach drop. You did not wish for faulty droids and materials like what you had recently dealt with. Kylo Ren lifted one of the containers after everyone had grabbed from it and dumped the remainder on his plate. The sauce spread, pooling along the edges and kept from spilling by the rim of the plate. More than half of this particular food had remained. General Hux huffed out a sigh.

“Do you think he has run his mouth with others?” you asked, choosing to ignore Kylo Ren’s obvious adoration for the single dish. Aelin hummed in thought. General Hux’s nostrils flared. “We gave enough information that he might attempt to recruit a different team and finance them. For his personal use.”

Kylo Ren stabbed his fork into the food then twirled, wrapping the noodles and string-cut vegetables around the prongs. “Aelin wondered the same thing.” You still wished that he would have voiced these concerns to you prior to inviting your superiors, however you did better understand his motivations. It was likely a spur of the moment thing. “Considering you were the one to offer the details, it would be wise for you to approach the senator in private regarding the project. I don’t care if you have to lie to him.” He observed you through narrowed eyes.

Your mind worked through what you might say to the senator when and if this meeting took place. It was imperative to convince him that the details needed to remain under wraps as well as give nudges so that he would reveal himself for any potential traitorous behavior committed since the previous meeting. You backed up towards the bed and sat down on its edge. The plate of food you had put together was placed beside your drinks on the bedside table.

Aelin and General Hux were speaking with one another; you heard their voices without listening to their words. Kylo Ren’s gaze was focused on them though he did not join the conversation in full. He chose to instead begin eating. You watched him chew his food. The way his jaw moved, how his lips puckered a little before each bite. Stress melted off of you. His gentle glare had not been to admonish you. If Kylo Ren did not trust you to complete the task, he would not give it to you. Maker, the senator would die before you were sent to some hopeless mission. Which meant, you thought, Kylo Ren had likely sensed that you had done something when you had received his message. Had he used the Force to spy on you?

Surprisingly, you were not opposed to the idea in this particular context. The next time you were alone, that was something to add to your fantasy. Imagining Kylo Ren knowing exactly what you were doing to yourself. He paused in chewing. Looked at you. Oh, kriff. You turned, both hands seizing the plate and dragging it closer to the edge of the table so that you could reach it more easily. You took your first bite. Your teeth gnashed together on the food as a sudden pressure caressed your inner thigh. What else can he do with the Force? You pressed your legs together, resumed chewing, and swallowed.

As you turned again, you caught his eye. A smirk crawled along his face, one that disappeared a fraction of a second later as General Hux looked up from his discussion with Aelin. You were almost certain that he missed the expression. “Though the project is tentative, I would encourage you to mention the physical assistant droids. That may work in our favor.” You understood his meaning. Droids that could work beyond war had a tendency to bring in notable discounts from some suppliers. Long term business, long term profit. On top of that, this increased the likelihood that the project would be officially approved by the First Order. General Hux was handing you a rather tantalizing gift. Between it and the caress of the Force, you had to admit to yourself that you were feeling another wave of desire for both men.

“Yes, sir,” you said, allowing yourself to smile and take another bite. The corners of Kylo Ren’s eyes pinched in amusement. Maker, you just knew he was in your head. Another caress, this one shifting along your knee then trailing upwards. You could better imagine what Kylo Ren would be capable of doing to you in front of the senators and businessmen at the meeting if he wanted to. As that thought crossed your mind, you realized that General Hux, too, was observing your every reaction. Are they working together in this? It seemed ludicrous to you, to be frank. More plausible was the idea that General Hux was taking notes in order to one-up Kylo Ren later. I hope. The thought was shameless, but who were you to continue denying yourself? You grabbed your tea and extended your arm so that the cup was held in offering to General Hux. “Would you like to try it?”

It seemed that he was in agreement with you over readily indulging. He walked over to you, gently holding onto your wrist and taking a sip while his eyes were locked with yours. His features contorted and he pulled back. You burst out with a single laugh before you could stop yourself. It appeared that he was not a fan of the sweetness of the tea. At least he didn’t spit it back. You pulled the drink back towards yourself then paused, looking over at Kylo Ren. You took a sip with the thought that he might be more apt to accept the offer if your lips were the last to have touched the surface. For a second time you extended your arm.

Kylo Ren rose from his seat and grabbed the drink from you. A part of you was disappointed that he did not mimic General Hux’s actions in full. You would have loved to have his large hand wrapped around your wrist. To be able to look directly into his eyes while observing his reaction to the tea. He took a swift drink, keeping the liquid in his mouth even as he handed the cup back to you. You found that you were holding your breath. Did he like it? His throat visibly bobbed as he swallowed.

“Mm. I needed that.” Fuck your face was impossibly hot and the rest of your body was following suit. Stomach and cunt both clenching. Damn it! The audible, shaky breath from General Hux only intensified these sensations. That was all the confirmation you needed; they were, in fact, Anonymous and Unknown, and you were most definitely going to be messaging them again later.

#kylo ren x reader #general hux x reader #kylo x reader #hux x reader #kylo ren imagine #general hux imagine #errorpnf

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douxie-casperan · 4 years

Note

some fake fic meme options: cat with the canary / throwing horns / r.b.f. (resting brunch face) [;)]

[Wow there’s like multiple Zouxie here whoops. I hope that’s okay! I’m literally running where my brain will take me and apparently being in pain and a headache means I want fluff. Though I DID write two angsty for other prompts so it could equally be trying to balance that out lol]

Cat with the canary

Archie stares at the box placed in front of him suspiciously unsure if to even give it a nudge with his paw lest it do... something. The temptation to bat them off the counter in a fragrant act of cat-like behaviour is remarkably strong given the literal crowd watching his every move.

"And what is it you have decided to grace this household with this time?" The cat asks not daring to take his eyes lift from the strange yellow things with beady eyes. The wizard merely rolls his eyes paying more attention to unpacking that the dilemma unfolding in front of him.

"Zoe gave 'em to me when I stopped over after getting food, figured you'd enjoy a treat and they're kinda cute to be honest," he answers stuffing more ramen than should be legally allowed into a cupboard far out of reach of a humble feline who would otherwise try and hide them on the insistence of a healthier diet.

"Apparently they come in lots of different colours? Got herself some in pink, naturally. Hopefully there's some goth abominations lurking out there somewhere too."

"What you humans find cute has always been questionable at best." The familiar levels him with a look for the ensuing laugher and fur bristles even more indignant for it.

"Bird chicks I suppose you could call them that, these however I must vehemently disagree."

"Listen if you don't want them I'll eat them all myself they don't have as much good marshmallow stuff over here. I miss flumps they were killer."

Letting out a snort of disgust and knowing well that is not an idle threat he sits on his haunches to pluck one of these mysterious peeps from their nest. Mentally he dithers for a second or two more trying not to squish the horrid thing between his pads and then ceremoniously bites the head off.

Mmm, not too bad actually

Throwing horns

Of all the things that had happened to him in literal centuries, having various Halloween related stuff ceremoniously dumped on his head was surprisingly not on the list until this very moment. Literally spitting feathers (?!) Douxie starts shoving the lot of them off onto his lap to find they also included, funnily enough, a set of blue glittery devil horns. Hmn, he holds them up with a quirked brow, really?

"Come on, this is like the one time of year we can dress up and be stupid and you're not on shift or finding an excuse to cover somebody else!" Zoe says with one hand on hip and the other pointing to his face with nails freshly decorated in deep purples to match her lipstick.

"You've skipped out on me three years in a row mister, you're all out of excuses this time and I want you ready for tomorrow night when I'm dragging your ass out to give this town a show they won't forget."

"That's sure a fancy way of saying drinking," he teases taking the chance for a proper shufty through the fabrics. Oh that one has a bitta potential...

"Plus this is the States remember? They think I'm underage."

"Pfft like you've never faked an ID before or the fact people think you're in college all the time Mr. I've got legs for days so I get asked about taking up modelling."

"Hey that was the 90s love, different time. Hasn't happened again in ages."

"Doux, it literally happened last month when we were in Starbucks, you were too caffeine deprived to figure out what words meant and I got stuck vouching for you appreciating the offer but too busy to think about it right now," she answers back scooping up what suspiciously looks like a Lord of the Rings wizard robe run through tie dye and holding it up like a suggestion and a grin.

"Touché," he answers shaking his head as he is absolutely not wearing that thanks. He won't own up to not remembering if that really did happen or not, if they ever go to a chain it's usually because he's too tired to function beyond ordering a drink and about ready to pass out at the first opportunity.

"Well if you're so insistent I be a lovely witch's consort fer a night, how about the lady herself decides, yeah? Within reason because it's not fair you get all the glamour and I don't fancy going it looking like I fought a bin bag and lost."

She fails to hide the faint blush fast enough from the sly grin on his face but it doesn't stop her snatching the headband from his side and twirling it as a distraction letting the shimmering catch the light just so and taking his attention off her before he can try and say something back. Satisfied, Zoe carefully places them on his head while mussing his hair a little to make sure they sit properly before standing back to admire her handiwork. Perfect.

"Hmm, alright... How about to make it fair I run everything with you first and I help with your makeup if you wear these horns? They're kinda cute and they do match your hair~"

He can't see them himself despite trying his best to which is no doubt deliberate but for a smile like that coming his way he'll happily go with whatever she asks. It's sappy and he could not care less what any other soul out there thought about it. So he simply throws a trademark salute instead.

"Deal."

R.B.F. (Resting Brunch Face)

"Rough day?"

She looks up to find Douxie hovering above her, tea in one hand and an éclair in the other with his brow furrowed in concern, hadn't even heard him coming let alone asked for anything yet somehow he managed to know anyway. He keeps joking about once a waiter but it's a little weird seeing it actually happening before her eyes.

"What are you even talking about?" she answers back snapping more than she intends while forcing herself to sit back in the chair instead of burying her head in her arms to give him the space for the plates to be set down with a gentle clink.

"Frankly I'm peachy."

To his credit the wizard simply rolls his eyes patting down the branded apron he's currently wearing looking more the part than usual when he works in Benoit's. Must be an inspection or something...

"For one? You've got the murder look, you only ever get the murder look when either I've done something which I can't have given I've been here all day oooor you've had multiple people try and shame the music selection," he says gesturing with his left hand and the other on hip outright abusing the fact he's taller than usual right now to loom like a mother hen.

"... And on occasion That Guy at Hex Tech but you've not mentioned him in a while. I called in my break so scooch over and blame the fact you chose a booth against a wall."

She shoots him an annoyed look but does as she's bid making enough space though not before hoarding the sweet offering he came with. He's mindful in turn to give her plenty of space so she won't feel squashed even though it means sticking his leg out from under the table so as not to bang his knee on the metal.

"I've not killed anybody before you ask but I might have thought about it."

"Uh huh."

It earns him a swat though to her annoyance he simply laughs her off and slides the tea closer knowing it's better to be patient and let her offer up the answers when she's good and ready instead of trying to push too hard when this angry at the world. They've known each other far too long, literal centuries at this point, that they can be as in tune as breathing when it really needs to count and sometimes it makes her wonder if this is what his own bond with Archie must be like? It certainly feels closer than words can give meaning to. The tea is mint with a hint of a fruit she cannot quite place from the taste of it, the heat helping warm her chest as much as her palms curled around either side of the cup. It's comforting.

"It's," she begins, then pauses ignoring the way his head tilts to one side to show she's got his full attention she can just make out the corner of her eye.

"The new kid actually. Skittish as hell I don't know what's up with him like there's keeping a low profile and there's I'll pop out of existence like Nightcrawler. Literally every time I try and talk to him alone he just ups and bolts you'd think we like bite or something."

A hum is let out beside her seeming trying to properly weigh up his options from the way his head moves just enough for his hair to shift across his face. Zoe takes the opportunity to grab the éclair so she won't be caught looking too obviously and as ever grateful he didn't bother trying to make her use cutlery and instead left a napkin for the future chocolate mess.

"Must be something up, want me to try and grab him for a natter? Mean I'm still an unknown so might be a bit less threatening and can always try the "Look at my cute cat!" angle if I have to. Doubt it's you personally, could just be nervous of all the ladies you got over there that could kick his ass," he says teasing nudging her in the shoulder getting a derisive snort back.

"What's his name by the way?"

It IS an idea, come to think of it, Douxie carries more of an aura of being harmless and he might be willing to open up more to another guy and help get to the bottom of just what's up without it coming across as an interrogation not to mention genuinely being able to say he's separate from the Coven. She gives the plate a tab with a nail to make more of a show of debating it before finally answering.

"Calls himself Hank."

#Anonymous #No facts truer than a good meme #Pinks and Blues #Zouxie #900 years of wandering

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xiubaek-13 · 4 years

Text

Whiskey

Prompt: Baekhyun + “What? Does that feel good?” + “It’s only one night, we’ll just share the bed.”

Setting/AU: Bartender

Warnings: some swearing, alcohol.

Word Count: 2,077

“Do you plan on moping at my bar all evening?” He teased as he poured you another whiskey.

You cocked your eyebrow. “And if I am?”

He chuckled, sliding your glass towards you. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m always happy to see you but you’re mood is keeping the customers away. You can stay but… maybe for the future success of my business could you move down that end?”

You looked to where he’d inclined his head, your eyes widening. “To the dark end of the bar? Real nice Baek. I’m not drunk enough to not be offended that you’re sequestering me to the area you usually reserve for curmudgeons.”

Baekhyun shrugged. “Can I convince you with free whiskey for the rest of the night?”

“And you wonder why you aren’t making big enough profits, giving away free top shelf booze…” You slid off your stool in the center of the bar and moved closer towards the dark end of the bar but you refused to place yourself at the very end, lest you admit to yourself that tonight you were in a sour mood and that you could give two shits about the other patrons. You just wanted to come and unload your troubles on your friendly neighbourhood bartender.

“I might not be a business mastermind but I’m not half bad with math and from where I’m standing the group of eight women who have been staring at my cocktail menu for the last 20 minutes while side-eyeing you are probably going to spend more money than if I charge you for the next five or six whiskeys you’ve got left in you before you need to be carried to a taxi.”

***

You enjoyed watching Baekhyun work. No matter how bad your mood was, and today it was particularly bad, he calmed you. He had a light hearted nature and the ability to talk to anyone as well as really listen to them, which is what made him an excellent bartender. He knew the bar like the back of his hand so watching him fluidly move around to pour drinks and make cocktails with flair was enthralling.

He hadn’t been wrong. The group of girls were three things – loud, annoying and in need of an endless supply of cocktails. The latter was great for Baekhyun but it was really infringing on your night because their endless cocktail orders were keeping him so busy that he barely had time to chat to you. He’d come down your end of the bar to refill your drink and check up on you but he had to keep excusing himself from any attempt at conversation every time a loud screechy voice called out Baekkieeeee! or bartenderrrrrr! and you were getting pretty close to snapping at them. You’d had a shitty week and you’d come to this particular bar to see the one person capable of lifting your spirits only for this pack of drunk wretches to steal him from you.

To top things off somehow, even at the dark end of the bar, sleazy guys still somehow found you and insisted on hitting on you. You weren’t exactly sure which part of woman sitting alone at the dark end of the bar drinking whiskey and scowling read Hi, I’d really love to engage in small talk and fake compliments, maybe a drink or two, then definitely I’ll have sex with you but no matter how many you sent off muttering about how much of a bitch you were more kept appearing.

“Ok now I need to know what you’re saying to all of the men who keep trudging up to the bar to order a failure beer.” Baekhyun’s amused voice sounded in front of you.

You looked up from your glass confused. “Failure beer?”

He grinned as be stood up straight and put of his salesperson voice. “A failure beer is something a person orders after they have tried to pick up and haven’t been successful. They present at the bar with a defeated look on their face while muttering bitterly about whoever just told them ‘thanks but no thanks’ in varying degrees of politeness. Now normally this results in more drinking and then either more failure beers or, in some cases, a success beer.”

“Well apparently the dark end of the bar is no longer curmudgeon central, it’s evidently the new place to try and pick up chicks. Even when they show zero interest in you.” You waved a hand disinterestedly in the direction of the small dance floor. “I simply told them no.”

Baekhyun rested his elbows on the bar as he watched you, a knowing smile on his face. “It had to be more than just no with the way they’ve been muttering.”

You smirked. “Each one gets a new version of no and when they try to ignore the first no it doesn’t end well for them.”

“What? Does that feel good?” He chuckled. Right as you went to answer one of eight screeching harpies called out and he sighed. “Making money off them is nice but holy fuck are they annoying. I’ll be back as soon as I can be, you still have two free whiskeys before you’re at your usual limit.” He smiled and made his way back down the bar towards the increasingly drunk and flirty harpies.

You continued to watch as he brushed off their advances with ease, somehow not pissing them off and sure as hell not deterring them. Sure, you’d had a handful of guys try and hit on you over the course of the night but after you got rid of them they never came back whereas Baekhyun was entering into the third hour of resisting these women.

You couldn’t blame them for trying. He was incredibly attractive. He fell somewhere between boy next door handsome and bad boy you know you shouldn’t get involved with and that was alluring. The silver hair and eyeliner didn’t hurt either. There was no harm in ogling the bartender. You had no plans to make any advances on him and you were sure he had no interest in you like that.

***

“Since when do you have a second bartender?” you asked.

“He only started recently but he’s been doing really well on the slower nights so I figured I’d give him a Friday night to really test him out.” Baekhyun was leaning against the bar watching Jongin work. “He’ll be able to fend off the women and somehow still make a massive tip at the end of the night.”

You chuckled, words slurring slightly. “And how about you mister? Going home with one of those persistent women from earlier?”

“Fuck no. I was going to finally hear the end of your story but it seems, little miss drunky, that I’ll be putting you into a taxi instead.” He furrowed his brow. “I could have sworn I only gave you six drinks.”

“Oh you did. You’re forgetting the guys that hit on me. They arrive with drinks.” You grinned lopsidedly as you started to feel the alcohol really hit you. Mixing drinks was a stupid idea and you knew it but at the time you really hadn’t cared.

He ran his hands through his hair. “Of course. You idiot, mixing drinks. What was it? Vodka and whiskey?”

You nodded. “Yup!”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Alright you, let’s get you a taxi so I can send you home safely.”

You pouted. “But you haven’t heard the end of the story yet.”

A loud male voice projected over the noise of the bar. “There’s a massive storm about to hit, if you haven’t called a taxi yet you aren’t getting one until it passes.”

You looked up at Baekhyun as he cursed under his breath. He disappeared to talk to Jongin and a security guard before coming back to you. “What was that about?” You asked.

“I had to organise for Jongin to keep the bar open with not let anyone in. Security will have discretion for if they let anyone in once the storm hits. You aren’t going to get a taxi in time so you have two choices.” You cocked your head to the side as he spoke. “Option one, you stay here and drink water for the rest of the night until the storm passes and you can get a taxi or, option two, you come upstairs – I live above the bar by the way – and hang out with me. You can still drink water but you’ll also be able to finish your story and you won’t have to scare any more of my patrons.”

For your drunk brain it was an incredibly simple choice, you wanted to finish telling the cute bartender about your shitty week. It didn’t even register with you that he was inviting you up to his place until you were being led up to his door. You ungracefully turned and, would have fallen if not for Baekhyun catching you in his arms, looked up at him and slurred. “No funny business ok?”

He laughed and turned you back around so that he could keep walking you to his door so he could unlock it. “Don’t worry about it. You are too drunk for me to be interested.”

So while the insane thunderstorm and flash flooding hit the city you sat comfortably on Baekhyun’s sofa semi-coherently telling him about your week. Lucky for you he was pretty fluent in drunk person speak so he managed to follow most of the conversation. He’d made sure to keep refilling your glass of water and gave you pain killers when you started to sober up.

At some point his gracious hospitality dawned on you and you had to break the comfortable silence that had settled between the two of you. “Thank you by the way. You could have just left me down in the bar but for some reason you took the surly drunk upstairs to listen to her problems. Clearly there’s something wrong with you but nevertheless, thank you.”

He smiled gently as you spoke. “You’re more than welcome. I’d like to think my ability to read people is still intact, the only reason I invited you up here was because you’re a semi-regular and I’m pretty sure you aren’t a serial killer or anything terrifying like that. You’re interesting. Most people who sit at the bar to drink their problems away have either relationship issues or money issues but you’re a different breed. It’s refreshing.” He tried to stifle a yawn as he spoke but it managed to escape. “Shit, sorry. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to stay up and it doesn’t sound like the storm is heading anywhere anytime soon.”

Taking the hint you stood up slowly and started to collect your things. “Don’t stay up on my behalf. I’ll just head back down to the bar and wait out the storm. Thanks again for talki-”

He grabbed your arm, silencing you, then let it go. “Don’t read into this but, you are welcome to stay if you want. I only have one bed but I promise to keep my hands to myself if you do.”

“I can sleep on the sofa, it’s no trouble really.” Truth be told you weren’t sure if you could trust your mostly sober self to keep your hands to yourself if you were sharing a bed with him. If you found him attractive when he was working you sure as hell hadn’t been prepared for how much more appealing he was up close sprawled on his sofa.

“It’s only one night, we’ll just share the bed.” He shrugged. “Plus, rainy nights are perfect for snuggling.” He grinned as he saw your resolve crumble. How could you resist when he kept making the idea of sharing a bed so enticing?

“Fine, but if I get frisky you only have yourself to blame, plying me with free alcohol.” You giggled.

He smirked at you. “You said no funny business, don’t go tempting a man if you aren’t prepared to follow through."

You started to walk towards the hallway that would inevitably lead to his bedroom and looked over your shoulder. “Who says I can’t do both?”

#exowritersnet #kwordsmiths #thekpopnetwork #kloversnet #kpopwonderlandtag #1000 followers #drabble game #exo drabble #exo fic #exo imagine #exo scenario #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun fic #baekhyun drabble #baekhyun imagine

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veinsandknuckles · 5 years

Text

It's a bad life if you don't weaken, pt 6 (Tallahassee/Reader)

(Please consider reblogging if you like the fic!)

Tallahassee would never bother with a ‘nice merlot’ as long as there was stronger stuff for him to grab, his logic being that percentage won out over flavor every time and that drinking wine, especially named wine, was ‘fucking gay’. (Everyone had given up on trying to check his casual homophobia, but at least he’d traded some of his stronger terms for well... words that weren’t slurs.)

So what you got, after a lot of sulking, was neat rum in served up in clean glasses and cups, none of which matched the other. Tallahassee shook his head at you when you poured the left-over juice from the canned pineapple into yours and Little Rocks drinks, then groaned with disappointment when Columbus shrugged and followed suit.

Little Rock cheered to adulthood and immediately downed her drink. Because of your stunt with the juice, she wouldn’t be able to tell that it was practically a mocktail.

You stole both Tallahassee’s and Columbus’ line by cheering to alcohol and knocked back what you hoped would be the first glass of many. Tallahassee didn’t stop you from reaching for the bottle.

Columbus cheered to life, instantly embarrassing everyone before he clarified that he was being sarcastic.

Tallahassee cheered to tits and guns and freedom. Things deteriorated after that.

Columbus was waiting for you in the hallway with the mop when you left Little Rock’s room. You shut her door as quietly as you could and looked up at him.

“Is she... going to be okay?” Columbus leaned the mop against the wall and smoothed back his hair. You prayed he’d actually used it and not brought it up for you as a hint.

“Oh yeah. She got it all up and out and I helped her clean herself up. She’ll be right as rain after a night’s sleep.”

Little Rock hadn’t had a bad first go at being drunk. She hadn’t embarrassed herself any worse than hitting Columbus in the nose and admitting to you, in between vomiting, that she’d made out with Michael once behind the bleachers so he’d teach her how to hot wire a car. She’d just assumed you knew who Michael was. Or who Michael had been.

Columbus still looked a little worried and his nose still looked swollen, but he tried to smile. “It was so nice of you to take care of her like that. You’d make a really good mom.”

“...what?”

“No, I mean, you... you’re just... good, you know? Nice. A nice person.”

You could see he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him but you were too tired to help him untangle this one. Columbus shut his eyes tight. Eventually you relented.

“Right. Thank you. Thankfully we’ll never have to find out about the ‘mom’ part.”

He laughed and nodded and you’d never seen anyone make it look less natural.

The tension out here was as thick as glue, worse than could be expected after only a weirdly put compliment, and it worried you because hardly any of this tension was radiating from you.

Columbus was... there was no nicer way to put it, he was getting weirder. You’d avoided speculation and this was not when you wanted to go there - you were still buzzed, everyone had had a chance to unwind (all over the stairs in Little Rock’s case) and while you’d counted on having to help the actual child, you absolutely did not want to babysit anybody else. Or their... feelings.

“Well, um. It was still really nice of you and I was just thinking that maybe you could use some a-... some time to relax, too. I got an old tape player working in the rec room, it just needed new batteries.”

Oh, you could picture it alright, more terrible cocktails, tinny top 40 music from back when cassettes were still a thing and Columbus trying to make out with you against a fuss-ball table. You shuddered and pulled your hoodie tighter around you to pretend it was the draft that was bothering you. He wasn’t a bad guy, he just didn’t know what he was doing, or that you wouldn’t be willing to teach him. God help him if he found out your real preference... he’d have to accept that when you got quiet and stared out the car window, you weren’t, as he’d apparently assumed, wishing for a life of peace and safety, obscure indie rock and rearing apple-cheeked children but instead daydreaming about crawling into the front seat and choking on Tallahassee’s dick while he was still driving.

You’d been wrong. No attention at all would be better than this. You missed being ignored by Tallahassee.

“That... that sounds so nice, Columbus, but I’m completely wrecked. Can we take a rain check?”

Columbus beamed as if that’s just the words he’d hoped to hear. You’d been too nice, you’d made your negative much too ambiguous.

“Rain check, yeah, of course! The rec room isn’t going anywhere. Did you check it out yet? It’s pretty cool, totally retro.”

“I bet it is.” You sighed and rubbed your forehead to sell the excuse. Actually, speak of the devil - now you were really developing a headache. “Seems a shame to let the cocktails go to waste though. Mind if I steal one as a nightcap?”

“Of course not, I made them for you. I’ll bring one up for you.”

You had to squeeze past him to get to your bedroom and you heard him draw in a sharp breath. God damn it. You shut your door behind you, leaned on it and nearly slid to the floor, then pulled yourself together. The door opened inwards so you wedged a chair under the handle and sat down on the bed.

Something was different and you looked around, eager for anything else to think about. It took you a few seconds, then you brushed your hand across the bed again and realised it was made, not rumpled like you’d left it, and the sheets were different.

At first you felt sick. You didn’t want to have to elevate Columbus from misguided softie to genuine creep... but he’d been outside, and then with Little Rock in the kitchen all afternoon and evening. Tallahassee had been the only one upstairs.

You pulled the blanket back and leaned down to sniff the sheets. They were clean, a little musty from disuse... and then you caught a whiff of Tallahassee’s cologne.

He’d made your bed. It made you flush hot, even though you remembered that Little Rock’s bed had been surprisingly fresh, too and knew he’d probably just done over all of them to keep his hands busy.

Still. The sheets smelled a little like him and you quickly pulled the pillow over that spot, lest it faded into the night before Columbus’ return. You should not have asked him to fetch you that drink....

The door rattled and you got back up, got the chair out of the way and exited into the hallway. Columbus hadn’t even knocked. You smiled at him awkwardly and then pretended you only just now realised that blocking the door against him was a little odd. “I can’t go to sleep these days unless I know no one can get in...”

“Oh yeah, that makes sense.”

You took the glass from his hand and left it on a table just inside your room. Columbus wasn’t leaving.

“Thank you, Columbus. That was really nice of you.”

“You know you’re safe, right? Me and Tallahassee, we’ll make sure we’re all safe.”

“Never hurts to be a little paranoid.”

He tried to laugh that off, and you looked down at your hands.

“Well... Goodnight, alright?” Take the hint. Please, take the hint. He was still there. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Of course.”

Columbus leaned out, gave two awkward finger guns and you couldn’t help laughing even if you were uncomfortable. That was a mistake, because Columbus must have read somewhere that women go for men that make them laugh and he leaned in with one hand on the wall next to your ear and kissed you.

You’d never expected him to just go for it like that... and his other hand was actually on your arm, making it difficult for you to slip away. His breath tasted like pure alcohol. He’d never been a big drinker. You weren’t sober yourself so your reaction time left something to be desired; finally, and it felt like it’d taken an age, you overcame your surprise and pushed him gently but firmly away from you.

“Columbus...” You kept your voice at a whisper because the last thing you wanted was to embarrass him any more than you had to.

“I... that was wrong. Right? I misread you.”

“Yeah. You did.”

He nodded, quickly, head bobbing up and down as if that could dislodge his blush. “It was too soon. I get it. I’m sorry.”

You drew a deep breath. You really hadn’t wanted to have to do this, but now the situation had become too dire for hints. “Columbus, I’m sorry, but it has nothing to do with time. I just don’t think of you that way. And I’m never going to.”

He stared at you. First he looked confused, then almost angry, then lost. “...Why? I mean, why not?”

“Come on, you don’t really want me to answer that.”

“Oh.” He stepped back further and smiled, stiff and proud and this time definitely a little pissed off. “No, I get it. I’m just a skinny nerd, what would you want with me? You should hold out for Mr. Perfect, I’m sure he’s right around the corner.”

As if your taste wasn’t a good enough reason... you drew yourself up a little too. He wouldn’t force you to apologise again, or to give him an explanation that he’d like better. He was drunk and disappointed, sure, but that would only excuse him for so long. “You’re too good a person to want someone who’s just settling for you, or someone who’s with you out of pity.”

“Good guy, that’s me.”

“Don’t start.”

Columbus sucked in a deep breath through his nose and when he exhaled it, his anger left with it. “You’re right. That was a shitty thing to say, I’m sorry.” He rubbed his eyes and added. “I’m so drunk, still... as it turns out, rum is strong stuff.”

But he’d used up all your patience by now so you just nodded and moved back towards your door. “Then go sleep it off. I’ll forget this ever happened as long as you take me at my word and don’t try anything like that again.”

This time, you did slide to the floor when you got back into your room. You sat there for a long time with your arms around your knees and you didn’t cry.

---

Well, it had happened. It’d finally happened.

The two of you had been much too busy to hear him step out onto the landing, and if you’d heard him go back into his room or shut his door and realised you’d had an audience, it wasn’t his problem.

Tallahassee stared at the bottle in his hand. For a moment he meant to chuck it at the wall, but someone would be bound to come running to chew him out for causing noise. And it was still half full. It’d be a shame to waste it.

He would’ve punched a pillow instead, but that’d never done any good for anybody. He stalked to the window and looked down at the abandoned car - maybe the keys were still in the ignition. He hadn’t had time to unpack his own stuff yet, he could just grab his bag and bail, let these idiots fend for themselves and see how they liked it.

But no, he couldn’t do that, not to Little Rock. That boy must have some well hidden talent for manipulation because he’d known just what to say to make Tallahassee start to think of her almost as if she was his own daughter. And now he’d gotten under your skin, too.

Tallahassee had spun on his heels the instant he saw you two locking lips and he couldn’t get the image of it out of his mind. God fucking damn it, his own room was right next yours. Any minute now he’d have to listen to the headboard bouncing off the wall and the two of you doing your best to keep quiet.

Only light at the end of the tunnel was that there was absolutely no way it’d last long. He snorted. Columbus might as well have ‘adult virgin’ tattooed across his forehead and Tallahassee would eat his own hat if that pipsqueak lasted more than a minute.

That wasn’t much of a positive. Because it’d still mean someone other than Tallahassee was fucking you, holding you... finishing in you. Maybe if the kid was bad enough at it, you’d tire of him eventually. Want something real. Someone who’d know what to do with you...

God, that was a real low thought. Tallahassee took a deep drink, ran his fingers over his face and groaned. Definitely starting to lose it, the old him would never have gotten this twisted up over a woman. Maybe he should take that car for a joyride, find some zombies to cut down and -

Someone knocked on his door. Oh, great.

“Now’s really not the time,” he growled. There was a creak as whoever it was shifted their weight from one foot to the other. Then your voice, soft and quiet, replied with a “please.”

You looked as if you were about to cry. Or like you were pissed off, it was hard to tell sometimes. Tallahassee stared down at you, completely non-plussed, then leaned out of the doorway but there was no one else on the landing. “Uh... yeah. Fine.”

You slipped past him barefoot and he, very gently, closed the door and gestured to the bed, the only piece of furniture in here for you to sit on. As it happened, he gestured with the hand still holding the bottle. Oh well. The floor probably could do with being disinfected. He watched you impassively as you padded over and sat down with a shiver, then held the bottle out to you. You took it, drank, made a face and then settled back down to looking tired and miserable.

“I leave you people alone for five minutes and this is what happens, huh?”

If you’d been a friend or a lover, hell, even a kid, Tallahassee would have known what to do. He’d stroke your chin and lift it up so you would look at him and then he’d pull you close, let you give him your weight and keep still and gentle while you cried or talked out your worries. But you were none of those things. The only thing he could offer without crossing any boundaries was words. Of course, he wasn’t comfortable with that kind of talk and you didn’t really look ready to spill your guts unprovoked.

“Come on,” he managed at last. “Romeo couldn’t have been that bad, could he?”

#tallahassee x reader #tallahassee imagines #Zombieland #zombieland: double tap #zombieland 2 #woody #my fics

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daemongal · 5 years

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So... I may have wrote the hiccup thing... :3c

Synopsis: Dante has the hiccups and they just won’t go away! He thought he’d tried everything until Vergil gives him a new, much better suggestion. NSFW ahead!

Based on this post!

__________________________

Vergil sighed, watching on in disdain as Dante leaned backwards from his desk, practically inhaling water upside down in an attempt to rid himself of his incessant hiccups. The glass abruptly hit the floor followed by the devil hunter himself, coughing and spluttering, gasping for breath as he groaned.

A few seconds passed as he lay there, eyes darting around the ceiling as if searching, awaiting another convulsion. A smirk spread up his face when nothing happened.

“What’d I tell ya? Knew that would -hic- work.... ahh shit! Curse this frail, part hu – hic – man body of mine!” He flailed his arms in a tantrum of sorts as Vergil pinched the bridge of his nose at the petulant display.

“What methods have you tried so far?” Dante dropped his arms to his sides before turning to face his brother, chest spasming with another hiccup.

“Well, you tried scaring me which just -hic- ended in me being stabbed, I’ve been stabbed - thought that deserved a –hic- special second mention – I've tried holding my breath so long I practically –hic- passed out and finally I tried drinking from a glass upside down. I’m outta ideas –hic- Verge.” He groaned once more, dramatically wrapping his arms around his waist as if he were suffering.

Vergil huffed and slammed the book in his hand shut, locking eyes with his brothers pained ones.

“So you have yet to try an orgasm?” Silence filled the room for a few seconds, broken only by the sound of hiccupping as Dante studied his brothers face.

“Did you just say –hic- orgasm?” There wasn't a hint of humour detectable in Vergil’s eyes, he was only met with a deadpan serious look.

“Yes, you did not mishear me brother; It was something I read recently in a magazine, recommended by scientists as a way to clear yourself of the wretched ailment. I won’t go into the intricacies since they would be wasted on you.” Dante raised his hand to his chin, a thoughtful expression gracing his features as he lifted himself off the floor in a graceful hop to his feet.

“I do suggest you take action quickly though,” Vergil continued “lest I attempt to pierce a few more holes in you. Eventually one will hit the right spot.” He reached towards his blade as Dante grimaced, raising his arms in surrender.

“Ok, ok. I’ll err –hic- see what I can do about it. Just hold off on any more stabbing alright?” Dante headed upstairs, hand rubbing the back of his neck as he sighed. “Guess this one’s -hic- on me.”

He pushed the bathroom door open slightly before being hit with moisture and the tantalizing smell of your shampoo. A smirk spread up Dante’s face as he changed direction to your shared bedroom.

“Unless...” When he went downstairs you were still sound asleep, and he had no intention of waking you, not considering how tired you had been the night before. Now that you were awake however, it was fair game.

He placed the back of his hand over his mouth in an attempt to muffle the sounds as he waltzed into the bedroom, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the doorframe. He smiled as he watched you towel dry your hair, his shirt from yesterday concealing your body to your thighs as you hummed a familiar tune, likely one from his jukebox.

“Hey ba-hic-be, shit.” You turned to glance at Dante, a bemused look on your face. You waited a few more seconds to confirm your suspicions as you heard another hiccup escape his chest, followed quickly by a curse. You started to giggle.

“Hiccups? Really? Not a sound I ever imagined you making oh mighty son of Sparda.” Your laughter grew with each spasm of Dante’s chest, as did his annoyance.

“Oh haha, I’m glad you’re enjoying my suffering. I’ve tried every-hic-thing and the damn things won’t stop. Well, not quite everything.” You crossed your legs and arms as you turned to face him.

“Is it safe for me to assume that’s why you’re here? Sorry to say that I don’t think I’ll be very good at scaring you, and I don’t have the strength to properly choke you to make you hold your breath. What else could I possibly do? Surely Vergil would be better suited to help you?” A knowing smirk spread up Dantes cheeks.

“Funny you should -hic- mention Vergil because he was actually the one that suggested another solution to me. Hear me –hic- out; apparently you can get rid of hiccups with... an orgasm.” You held his unwavering eye contact before bursting out into laughter.

“That’s your game? You’re using hiccups in an attempt to get some head?” Dante remaining unflinching aside from the occasional hiccup. “Seriously, you aren’t joking? He actually suggested that?” Dante nodded vigorously before closing the door behind him and making his way over to the bed next to you.

“When has he ever –hic- told a lie, and I’ll be damned if I know what he’d gain out of telling me something like that if –hic- it wasn’t true.” His hand brushed against your leg as he observed the cogs turning in your mind; he almost had you.

“Come on babe; aren’t you curious to see if it actually –hic- works?” His hand worked its way up your thigh before brushing up your side under his shirt. A mischievous grin spread up your face as you grabbed his wrist.

Jackpot.

“Fine. But,” you removed his hand from under your shirt, placing it on the bed before cupping his face in your palm, “I’ve literally just got out of the shower, so head’ll have to do. If that doesn’t work, well...” you started unbuckling his trousers, much to Dante’s delight, “... I’ll just have to leave you to Vergil. I’m sure he’ll know the best places to put some holes in you to make them go away; like some kind of super fucked up acupuncture.”

Dante inwardly grimaced at the thought, a sigh leaving his lips as you pulled down his zipper and freed his half-hard cock from his trousers, giving it a slight squeeze. He watched you move towards the floor, quickly grabbing your face between his hands and pulling you towards his, kissing you deeply, entwining his tongue with yours in your mouth, cock twitching to attention in your grip.

He tucked your still damp hair behind your ear before pulling away with a hiccup. “You’re the best you know, babe?” You smirked before planting a quick peck on his nose and kneeling down on the floor between his legs.

“Oh I know; but I’ll gladly take a reminder every now and again.” He chuckled at your confidence, watching with eager eyes as you stroked him to full hardness with your hand before running your tongue up his length with half lidded eyes.

He groaned as you took the tip into your mouth, teasing with your tongue and sucking gently, continuing to stroke his length with your hand. His hand reached towards your hair as you pushed against his chest, forcing him backwards into the mattress.

You sunk further down on him, taking in as much of him as you could before settling on a rhythm, bobbing up and down, teasing with your tongue and sucking with fervor. Dante rested his feet flat against the floor before daring to raise his hips to meet with your movements, moaning as you took him further down your throat.

You removed your hand from him, instead opting to grip onto his thighs, digging your nails in as he thrusted himself into your throat. He muttered your name over and over, forgetting about everything in that moment, focusing only on the wetness of your mouth as he raced towards his peak.

“Shit babe, I’m gonna come any second. Fuck.” His mouth dropped open as you scraped your nails down his chest, his hips raising in a final harsh thrust before he burst into your mouth, shooting his seed down your throat. His breaths came out heavy and shaky as his body shook in the aftermath of his orgasm.

He hissed between his teeth as you pulled yourself from him, swallowing every last drop before climbing up over his body, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“So..?” You asked, meeting his half-lidded gaze questioningly.

“Hmmm?” Dante responded, still in a slight daze.

“Your hiccups Dante; are they gone?” Dante lay for a moment, his eyes tracing the ceiling waiting for any indication they were still there. He wasn’t going to lie; he had completely forgotten about the blasted things, completely unaware of when they had supposedly stopped. His face lit up slightly at the realization.

“Shit, I guess it worked! Guess I owe Vergil one, and you of course.” His hand raised to run his thumb over your cheek affectionately.

“Guess I’ll add the ability of ‘hiccup banishing blowjobs’ to my list of skills eh?” Dante quickly wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you down flush against him, a gasp leaving your lips at the sudden action, before he pressed a number of soft kisses to the top of your head.

He quickly decided that maybe hiccups weren’t all that bad.

#whoops #my hand slipped #:3 #dante #dante x reader #hiccpus #dmc #devil may cry #lemon #spicy

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