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tojilvrs · 2 months

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ FUCK MY EX! (AND HIS BOSS) ceo!toji fushiguro x fem reader (2.7k)

repost from my old blog!!!

⁂ warnings: MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI! toji’s not a bum, reader gets cheated on (not by toji), m receiving oral, pet names, degradation, rough sex, reader’s ex sees them at the end, unprotected sex, creampie, sex as a revenge ploy, some praise, foot on head during doggy (does this have a technical name lol?), also tagging foot fetish JUST IN CASE the last thing counts lol, toji coerces reader, use of the name ‘daddy’ ONCE, spanking, some aftercare, toji steals your panties (and your heart), reader has hair long enough to be pulled

⁂ a/n: this fic literally came out of nowhere i had no plans of writing until i saw twitter porn and a little lightbulb formed above my head. anywho this is not great i wrote and proofread it while i was sleepy so if there’s mistakes don’t tell me i will get embarrassed!!!! THE PACING MIGHT ALSO BE HORRID i was just trying to get my claws on some fictional wiener. k luv u alllll <3

You never thought you could get this low.

You also never thought you’d come home to find your now ex-boyfriend balls deep in his coworker he told you not to worry about.

Way past the stages of hurt and with no more tears left to spill, you found yourself angry. You were pissed at your ex for being unfaithful. Pissed at the woman for fucking around with a man she knew was not available. And pissed at yourself for not figuring it out sooner. Once you got over your sorrows and finally felt able to pull yourself together, you just wanted to rid your apartment of anything that reminded you of him.

That's how you found yourself across the table from that rat bastard's boss. A box full of his old shit perched in your lap and your nails tapping the side of the cardboard. Scanning the room of Mr. Fushiguro's luxurious office and finding yourself filling with rage all over again knowing that the last time you were here, you were helping him get promoted.

"Pleasure seeing you again," you watched as Mr. Fushiguro took a seat in his plush office chair, "though it appears you're here to play the part of 'scorned girlfriend' instead of ‘concerned girlfriend, hm?’ Word travels fast ‘round here.”

"Ex-girlfriend."

"Right," he clasped his hands together over his chest and kicked his feet up onto his desk, knocking over his name plate, “so what're you here for, scorned ex-girlfriend?"

"Just want to give his shit back. Passing it on to you so I won't have to see him and blondie going at it in your breakroom." You watched the man crack a smile before speaking again.

"S'all you’re gonna do?" He knew your answer by the way you tore your eyes off of him and focused them on the box in your lap instead. Slightly slumping down in your chair as if you were a child in trouble trying to evade the scrutinizing gaze of a parent “Oh, don’t tell me you’re just gonna let bygones be bygones and let him get away with it scott free.”

His tone made you feel like your entire situation was almost comical. You looked back up and narrowed your eyes at the man. Scanning his face and watching the scar on his lip twitch when the corner turned up in a smirk.

“Mr. Fushiguro-“

“Don’t have to be all formal now, call me Toji.”

“Okay, what exactly are you implying, Toji?” he sighed before standing up from his desk and fixing his name plate, smirk never falling from his lips and eyes never leaving yours.

“I know he is my employee, but i’m not really… fond of him either. And you’re too pretty of a girl to just let him get away with cheating. It’d make you feel better to hurt ‘em a little bit. Get a little revenge.”

You broke away eye contact from him again to look around his office. Taking note of how sparsely decorated the area was as you pondered and tried to avoid his eyes. It wasn’t the most mature or logical decision, but he was right. It would make you feel better to make him hurt just a little bit. “And how exactly might I go about that?”

Toji laughed a little as he walked around the desk, taking the box out of your lap and placing it on the floor before settling himself behind you. The sweet tobacco scent of his cologne invaded your nostrils as he got closer to you, making his presence feel almost suffocating.

“Y’know what would really get him?” His voice sounded as if it were laced with a honeyed sweetness. The sound surrounding you and ringing around in your ears. He shifted his feet, but you still felt the heat radiating off of him and onto your back.

“What?”You felt him grow closer. Leaning down behind you. So close that you could feel his breath fan against your skin.

“Fuckin’ his boss.”

The lewd suggestion tickled the shell of your ear. Your eyes widening and mouth going dry once you realized exactly what he was proposing to you. You opened your mouth to protest. To tell him how absolutely ridiculous that was, but your words fell short. Closing your mouth again to look down and stare at the indentions the corners of the cardboard box had left in your skin.

You couldn’t say that you hadn’t let your eyes linger a little too long at Toji Fushiguro. Always noticing how easy he was on the eyes when your ex would make you tag along to work events. How his suits would perfectly contour to his body. Showing off his bulging muscles through the fabric. How he seemed to tower over you and everyone else with his height and domineering presence. How your gazes would linger a little too long on each other and how his fingertips would “accidentally” graze your hips when passing you.

You were taken away from your thoughts by the feeling of his fingers slowly caressing up and down your jaw. His touch soft, contrasting the rough calluses that lined his fingers. You also realized he had now moved directly in front of you and you were eye-level with his crotch.

“What’ll it be, sweetness?” The tip of his thumb travelled up to your bottom lip, smearing some of your lipgloss. “Y’gonna let me help you get back at him?”

You slowly looked up at him and nodded your head, still not trusting any words to come out of your mouth. He smiled down at you, removing the hand on your chin to pet your head and using his other to unbutton his slacks.

“Gonna make you feel so good, you’ll forget allllll about your little ex-boyfriend.”

You were still looking up at him dumbly as he freed heavy cock from the confines of his pants, subconsciously parting your lips and slightly sticking out your tongue at the sight of him. Relishing in the way he looked at you and the noises he made once his cock makes contact with your awaiting tongue.

“Already so good and fuckin’ obedient. Did he teach you that?” You shake your head and he cackles. Easing his way into your throat. “So you’re just naturally a whore, huh?” He lightly slaps your cheek, not even hard enough to sting, and moves from petting your head to gripping your hair once you take him all the way into your mouth. Testing your limits and pushing his way past the tight ring of muscle in the back of your throat, loving the way you choke and sputter around him. “Takin’ me so good. Bet that motherfucker couldn’t properly stuff your throat.”

Toji’s right- he couldn’t. He also isn’t quite as big as Toji is either, in both length and girth. It also seems that the man in front of you didn’t learn to fuck from porn like your ex did. Only pushing your limits a little bit at a time and not throatfucking you from the get-go. Also making sure you’re not suffocating on him for too long.

You began to move your tongue over the vein that ran on the underside of his cock, watching in satisfaction as he throws his head back and groans. Doing it again and again and watching his face contort in pleasure.

“Shit, baby, got the sweetest fuckin’ mouth.” His voice is huskier now, almost breathy. You watch as sweat begins to lightly bead across his forehead and his hands come off of you to loosen his tie around his collar. The air becoming too thick and hot for him. You suck him off with much more passion as you get used to his size. Bobbing your head up and down his length and occasionally pulling yourself off to lick on the sensitive skin around his balls. Not paying much mind to the spit that has run from your mouth and covered the bottom half of your face.

“That’s it- hah- fuck yeah… that’s it. Gonna cum down that pretty fuckin’ throat” You kept up your ministrations, using your hand to lightly squeeze his balls as you took his full length down your throat once more. Listening as Toji’s pants became progressively more and more uneven. Only taking a few more short moments before his abs tighten and he takes in a deep inhale as he shoots his load down your throat. His leg twitching as the coil in his belly snaps. Pulling off of him to stick out your tongue and show him that you swallowed it all.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl, aren’t you?” He gripped your chin tightly and you nodded your head dumbly, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. He smiled and gestured for you to walk over to the plush, black couch he kept in his office. A guiding hand resting on your lower back as he layed you down on your stomach. He took his time running his hands from your calves all the way up to your ass, like he was trying to memorize every dip in your skin. Once he reached the hem of your skirt, he flipped it up. Gently running the palms of his hands over the smooth skin and giving the right cheek a harsh slap and soothing the sting with the very same hand that inflicted it.

“Suckin’ dick make you this wet?” Your slick had soiled your panties, smearing onto your thighs. His fingers lightly ran across the soaked fabric. You felt the couch dip under his weight as he settled behind you, feeling the fabric of his haphazardly pulled down pants and the heat of whatever skin that was exposed press into you.

“Sucking yours does.” you gasp as he pushes your panties to the side to make contact with your swollen clit. The cool air of his office hitting your soaked center makes you shiver. “You’re gentler than I thought you’d be.”

“Oh baby,” He pauses, taking his hands off of you to maneuver himself around, “you haven’t had the worst yet.”

You’re comfused until you feel the tip of his cock prodding your entrance and begin to push in. Your walls greedily sucking him in even though it felt as if he was splitting you in two.

“Tight as a fuckin’ virgin, y’gotta open up for me, girl.” His fingers rub tight circles on your clit. Using that to his advantage to thrust his cock deeper and deeper into you until he’s bottomed out. Your hips arching into him as any remnants of pain begin to wash away and are overtaken with white-hot pleasure. His hands find purchase on your hips as his thrusts begin to speed up. Going harder into you and somehow hitting you deeper each time, causing tears to spring in corners of your eyes.

“Already cryin’ on my cock and we’ve barely even started? Slut can’t handle it?” He slaps your ass again, not caring if it stings. You furiously shake your head as moans and whimpers spill from your lips. Trying your hardest to match his brutal pace with your own hips. “Oh, you think you can take control now, huh? I’d watch it, little girl.”

At first you think he pushes your face into the couch with his hand. That’s until you realize that both his hands are still on your hips and it’s actually his foot that’s found its place on the back of your head as he continues to fuck the memory of your ex out of you. Your pussy clenching down on him at the mere thought of the position.

“Like being treated like a whore don’t you? Shitty man couldn’t do it like I can.” You couldn’t respond back even if you tried. Too caught up in the feeling of being stuffed full by the most skilled man you’ve ever fucked and biggest cock you’ve ever taken. Writhing under him as the pleasure of his tip repeatedly hitting your spot over and over again was becoming almost too much.

Toji must’ve felt the way your pussy began to tighten around him or how your moans were so loud the couch wasn’t muffling them well anymore. His hand snaked around your hip and back down to your clit to rub shapes on it, bringing your closer to your peak.

“That’s right, cum on this cock baby. Hah- cum all over my fuckin’ cock.” He spoke to you through gritted teeth and the sound went straight to your core. It wasn’t long after that your back slipped into a deeper arch and your cunt clenched down on him even harder. A white ring of cream forming around the base of his dick as he worked you through your orgasm and worked himself closer to his.

“Such a good girl. You’re gonna take my cum, yeah? Gonna let me fill you up?” You nodded a quick yes, pussy still quaking from your orgasm. the only thing keeping your hips from collapsing into the couch being the vice grip of his strong hands.

The foot pressed into your head was removed and replaced by his right hand gripping your hair and pulling you up to meet his face. Looking him in the eyes for the first time since he started fucking you and seeing the beast of a man he’s become. Pupils blown, hair messy, and face sweaty as his grunts get louder, more aggressive.

“So pretty baby. You’re my good, pretty girl, right? C’mon, daddy a kiss when he cums. You’ve been so. fucking. good.” The last of his words were punctuated by rough thrusts into your heat. His heavy balls slapping against your clit so hard it was making you jump. You craned your head back even more for your lips to meet his in a sloppy, lust-filled kiss as he lets out a final rough grunt into your mouth. The familiar warmth flooding your pussy as his thrusts begin to let up.

He’s gentle with you for the first time in a while, gently resting your head back down to the couch before slowly pulling his softening dick out, tucking it back into his underwear, and smoothing your skirt back down. Rubbing a hand over the arch of your back and letting you rest on his couch as he pulls off your soiled panties and pockets them for himself. Also noticing a patch of your slick that has soiled the front of his pants and smiling as a mix of both of your releases begin to trickle out of your spent hole. Using two of his fingers to push it back in. The room is quiet for the first time in a long while. Only sound being the oscillating box fan in the corner of the room. It says quiet for a while, until you break the silence.

“Don’t even think I can remember the fucker’s name anymore.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You turn over onto your back to face him, watching closely as he fixes his suit to the best of his ability. “Wouldn’t mind seeing you again, if you’d like.”

He turns to face you, smirking again, “Can’t say I’d hate that.”

It’s your turn to smirk at him before letting your head roll over and rest again. Consumed with the thoughts of how that was definitely the best revenge plan you ever participated in.

You’re almost drifting off until that same thought wakes you up again. Sitting up to look at Toji.

“Wait, how was any of that a revenge ploy if he didn’t even see it?” Toji smirks, fixing his tie. Not even a second later you hear a knock on his door before Toji gives the visitor permission to enter.

“You wanted to see m-“ Your ex stops mid-sentence once he sees you lounging on his employer’s couch with his cum leaking out of you. “Wait, what is she doing here?”

“Baby brought your shit by.” Toji kicks the box towards him as he pulls your panties out of his back pocket and swinging them around his index finger. “Anything else you need? Or do you just wanna watch me fuck your ex-girl again?”

#forgive me if my blog gets annoying as I repost 🤞#female reader #jjk ‪♡#toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #toji x reader smut #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut

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evanthefunky · 1 year

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"But the artist doesn't have tumblr so a whole audience isn't seeing their art!!! Im helping them!"

NO YOURE NOT!! JUST RECOMMEND THEIR ART TO PEOPLE???? ON THEIR ACCOUNTS ON OTHER PLATFORMS WHERE THEY (the artist) OFFICIALLY POSTS???? DONT FUCKING REPOST IT??????????? TELL PEOPLE ABOUT THEIR ART???? DONT !!!! FUCKING !!!! REPOST IT !!!

this is absurd STOP FUCKING DOING THAT

#im furious #just. dont. repost art. its literally so easy.#'hey pals if youre looking for art heres a few twt accounts with some good art!!' ITS THAT EAASSSYYYYYYYYYYYYY #good lord.#anywho #'they dont have a tumblr but heres their art anyway and sure im giving credit but its still reposting'#idk idk idk but also i dont care.#dont. repost arttttttttttttttuuhhhhhhhhhhhhh

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seelestia · 9 months

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— thoughts of saccharine.

two cubes of sugar for each daydream.

#STARRING: wanderer, kaveh, alhaitham, cyno, tighnari, wanderer w/ gn!reader.

#GENRE: fluff, crack-ish but that's just how i write fluff, headcanons/hcs.

#NOTES: mentions of kisses, one implied injury but nothing graphic, cyno's reader isn't a qualified doctor (sorry to the med students).

#THOUGHTS: comically enough, i spent more time on the formatting than the writing itself. maybe i'll play around with them more often? anywho, here is a little smth before fontaine and while i work on other stuff per usual! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

thinking about . . . how wanderer says he 'could care less' about what you do or where you go, always averting his gaze with that disinterested look. it's true, he hates getting caught up in people's business but good riddance, why does he find himself sticking to your side? maybe, he finds your company tolerable (preferable) or that he might even possibly harbor worry for your safety. the wanderer doesn't have a definite answer to this and so, all he can do is insist that he is only here to make sure you don't do anything 'stupid' — yet, he stays so close to you that he could've reached out for your hand if he wished. right, if only pride wasn't an option.

thinking about . . . how wanderer drums his cold fingers on your bare skin while knowing that they are as cold as ice, for a puppet is bereft of humanly warmth, just to incite a reaction out of you. whether it be little yelps, flinches or frowns, he'll drink them all up with an amused snicker. "too cold?" he'd ask oh-so teasingly — but bring his hands up to your lips and press a kiss to them, then you'd see how his eyes dilate and his lips quiver. who's got the upper hand now? (you do, before he snatches his hand away flusteredly and calls you 'an impulsive fool', that is.)

thinking about . . . how you're the first person kaveh looks for when it comes to everything (literally). sorry, he can't help it; but if you think it's good, then it must be really good, right? his clothes today, menu suggestions, your opinion on a performance you saw at the bazaar together and more — but oh, his architecture drafts can be a different story because he gets pouty with those. (just give him a kiss and it'll wipe itself away, easy peasy?)

thinking about . . . how kaveh would set aside some mora with you in mind. when it comes to food or other expenses, he complains about them with no reservations — but your favorite dish? or the item you were eyeing the other day? knowing that you will tell him not to trouble himself, he can only beg the traveler and paimon to keep quiet when he keeps stumbling into them when he's out buying a secret gift for you. seriously, why does this always happen to him? (huh, who would've thought that kaveh finally learnt a bit more about financial management thanks to you? "how surprising," a certain someone with gray hair and green clothes comments.)

thinking about . . . how instead of one, there are two mugs on alhaitham's kitchen table every morning. as an early bird, he knows that hydration is something much needed in the morning, so he always prepares two; one for his daily dose of caffeine and the other for your preferred drink. you never recalled asking him to do so — "and you didn't," he affirms, he just gradually incorporated it into his routine. alhaitham states it's for efficiency because he can handle sleepiness somewhat better than you (how offensive). but maybe, the way you always sleepily press a kiss to his cheek as thanks meant something too.

thinking about . . . how alhaitham lets out just the quietest sigh of relief when he realizes you're the one entering his office and not a colleague. for someone so diligent about work (he never claimed he is), he sure perks up when you visit him at work. ask him about it and alhaitham will say that he doesn't know what you're talking about — but the moment you go behind the desk and offer yourself for him to lean on, believe it or not, he melts into you so easily. (...just a little, though.)

thinking about . . . how cyno places his hood on your head when no one is around. you're not a hanger for hats, but he says that you're "cap-tivating" so it makes sense (please send help). regardless, the general does it as his own unique form of affection; he only ever takes off his head accessory around people he trusts and he thinks you look adorable with it on. not to mention, it also has his scent so he's technically marking you as his territory. relax, he's just joking. (or is he? just make a note to ask about his shampoo next time... unless he's into that all-natural stuff.)

thinking about . . . how as a general, cyno is used to speaking in a clear and precise tone with his subordinates and co-workers. but when he's here, sitting beside you while your nimble fingers make light work of bandaging his arm, his lips can't part themselves to say anything else besides a "sorry" mumbled with a pang of guilt. you tell him it's alright as long as he comes home to you at the end of the day and he refuses to be treated by anyone else ever since. ("sir, but they're not a qualified doctor." "...your point is?")

thinking about . . . how tighnari's tail always seems to have a mind of its very own; curling around your leg or wrist almost idly, almost as if it's just second nature when you're near enough to be reached. you have a suspicion that he's trying to communicate an unspoken wish — but ask tighnari about it and he'll say it just does that sometimes. you're pleasantly shocked he didn't ask if you sniffed any odd mushrooms that day (...you didn't, you think).

thinking about . . . how tighnari gives your head a little pat after you complete a task he gave (or didn't give) you. finished sweeping the floor? pat, pat. taught collei how to do her homework? pat, pat. oh, you rearranged the bookshelf when he complained about not having time for it last night? pat, pat, pat. at this point, you don't even know if he realizes he does this — but really, this is just a way to say that he's proud of you without being too overly mushy. no, it's not patronizing and no, he isn't going to admit that he has a soft spot for you in a professional setting. though, the way he'd pull back his hand at the speed of light when a ranger walks in on his patting you is a little funny.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

✰ TAGLIST: @meimeimeirin @hcikazu @tsuk4sa-yug1 @catcze @semi-orangeapple @yuuki4646 @d-a-r-k-s-w-a-n @daisydkj @omgblade-starrail @coquettemaiden @lemontum @herdrops @lleoll @xiaosonlybeloved @chiisananingen @irethepotato @ainescribe @blooodyvampy @starlightaura @jihyuniepark @duhsies @maybemiko @lordbugs @sakkakuu-squared @lupicalbestwolf @c-a-v-a-l-r-y — [ bolded names are unable to be tagged due to visibility settings / unnotified url changes + register here to be a part of my taglist! ]

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #kaveh x reader #alhaitham x reader #cyno x reader #tighnari x reader #genshin fluff #genshin headcanons #genshin hcs #genshin impact #wanderer #scaramouche #kaveh #alhaitham #cyno #tighnari #seelestial.inks

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shreddedparchment · 10 days

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The Garden Gate

Pairing: Medieval!Loki x Reader Word Count: 6,514

Warnings: smut, mentions of infidelity, language, bodily fluids, jealousy, Loki in a poofy shirt

A/N: Well, I haven't done this in a while. I had to go look for an old post to see how I used to do these openings. LUL Anywho, y'all can thank @darkficsyouneveraskedfor for this one. She sent me a picture and then I asked her for three characters and three scenarios and this one is the one that spoke to me the most. I did put my own spin on it but that's just me. Anywho, I'm not sure how many of my old readers will read this but I hope y'all like it. Anything y'all have to say about it is also greatly appreciated. xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my stories on any other sites or blogs!!

REBLOGS are always welcome!

Your family’s fall from grace had been nothing short of spectacular.

It had started first with the crumbling of respect from the men and heads of other houses. The gentry had taken offense to the shame of your father and eldest brother’s retreat at the battle for Carmine Valley, so named for the blush of trees that peppered the expanse of lush green and the strange but beautiful red waters of the central lake.

Had Lord Odinson’s own knights not been flanking from the western ridges, the valley would have fallen into the hands of the northern enemy forces. A great loss seeing as the valley was the largest producer of grain and vegetables in the kingdom.

The fallout had been catastrophic. Both your father and brother had been sent to the wild woods to the southernmost parts of the kingdom to work off their shame and languish in the dangerous labor camps where men were said to be torn into shreds by beasts as large as a carriage.

Even though you loved them very much, you couldn’t help the anger within your veins at their betrayal to not only the kingdom, but to your very family. The abandonment that their retreat meant. They knew what doing so would do to you, your mother, and younger brother.

If it were not for the King’s good nature, you’d have no doubt found yourself working in some brothel alongside your mother leaving your younger brother, at the tender age of seven, exposed to the worst parts of society.

The seediest brothels were not above selling children, you knew. No matter that the King had signed a death warrant for anyone known to sell or buy said company. It was the worst of sins and it breaks your heart to know that one man’s generosity saved all three of you from that life when he could have very well condemned it.

Knowing this–knowing how bad it could have been–doesn’t change the fact that your life now is still torture. Torture of a different kind, but torture all the same.

The King’s kindness came in the form of service. While your family was stripped of all titles and wealth, you’d also lost your beloved.

That is the true source of agony in your chest as you struggle with the bucket of waste water you’re holding, trying desperately not to slosh it around too hard. The last thing you want to do is to go to bed smelling of someone else’s bodily fluids.

The thick wool of your simple navy dress and the apron you keep tied over it are both great for absorbing disgusting materials. Already in need of a wash, the white ruffle along the neckline is frayed and yellowing despite the gown being only a few months old.

Edging along the courtyard wall, you try not to rush. The exhaustion in your body begs for sleep. Even months later the labor of working in the castle as a servant to former peers has not grown easier.

Wincing as the rough rope of the bucket burns the center of your palms, you almost sigh but instead freeze at the sight before you.

You’d know his silhouette anywhere.

The light is low here, a small lamp just beyond the open garden gate illuminates them from behind and hides their expressions but you don’t need to see to understand.

Her lips are parted, head pressed back against the door, hand braced against the warm brown and ornately carved wood. Her legs are parted a little too wide, a subtle motion of his left arm and the bunch of fabric around his forearm tell you enough of what you’ve stumbled upon.

You’re embarrassed and try to fade back into the darkness of the small courtyard behind you.

His shoulder length hair, black as a raven’s feather, is disheveled. You notice her hand gripping it tightly as his arm pumps.

A wispy, sultry moan slips through her parted lips and you stumble, gasping your own bit of surprise as you try not to spill the bucket’s contents.

A small splash, luckily away from you but the shuffle of feet and the rustle of fabric tells you that you’ve been noticed.

You look up, Lord Loki stands facing you, hands fisted as she hides behind him quickly adjusting her skirts.

“Oh, it’s you,” Lord Loki says, disdain in his voice.

Everyone here hates you. You already know this. Your father’s sins are your own. Nothing can change that.

“Finally where you belong,” the girl says and you recognize the voice with a small shock of pain in your chest. “You smell like piss.”

Lord Loki chuckles and you shrink just a little. More embarrassed by your own situation than catching them in the act. In fact, you’re disgusted by both of them, not only because of their audacity to do this at all, but because the woman whose fingers Lord Loki were just in is also your once beloved’s fiance.

Your former confidant. Lady Amora Antress. You’d once considered her your closest friend. Now here she stands, betrothed to one brother while fucking the other. The venom she spits at you is also unappreciated and painful to hear.

How long had she hated you before your downfall? How long had she waited before pursuing Thor?

“Aren’t you going to reply to her ladyship, servant?” Lord Loki asks, gleeful mirth in his voice as he takes a step towards you.

You bow your head even more, holding the bucket in your hands as still as you can while your hands struggle with the burn of the rope.

Amora scoff, “Pathetic. Leave her be, Loki. She’s where she deserves to be. She’s not worth the breath in our lungs.”

You don’t mean to cry. The utter betrayal of your once friend hurts more even than the loss of your once future husband.

“Are you crying?” Amora laughs, moving around Lord Loki, her shoes clicking against the brick of the courtyard. She stops in front of you, arms crossed over her ample bosom, still exposed more than it should be from what she and Lord Loki were just about to do. “You’re pathetic. The least you could do is be invisible while you serve.”

You say nothing, fist tightening around the rope. Pain shifts into rage at the cruelty in her words.

The wind blows and you can smell the scent of their near copulation. Luckily, it’s driven away by the vines of jasmine that creep along the tops of the brick wall.

She doesn’t deserve Thor. But you know that he never deserved you either. The rate at which he moved on…

Almost as if she’s sensing your thoughts, she takes a step closer and drops her voice to a whisper. You know Lord Loki will still be able to hear.

“Poor little flower, so careless and trusting.” She smiles. “You know it was so easy to seduce Thor. Even before your disgrace of a father betrayed his kingdom, Thor came to my bed often. Such a chaste little thing you were. You had no idea that every night after he whispered sweet promises in your ear of a happy future, he was burying his cock deep in my cunt, whispering how glorious I felt around him. Promising that even after you married, he would slip away and fuck me because no cunt could be as good as mine.”

Whore. Your heart shattered. Finally your eyes met hers.

She took a slight step back at whatever she saw in them. The hatred coursing through you set your teeth on edge. You wanted so much to rip her hair from its roots. If you could gouge her eyes out with your fingers without the consequence of a beheading, you would.

Perhaps she could see that promise of death in your eyes.

She scoffed, a reaction to whatever fear she felt in that moment.

“Now, now, ladies.” Lord Loki chastised, “Let’s keep things civil.”

“Civility? From a servant?” Amora looked at him then back at you, her hateful smirk twisting her pretty face into an ugly mask.

No…this is her true face. Her long blonde hair, pale skin, and green eyes might make her superficially beautiful, but you can see the true ugliness in her now.

“Trash knows no civility.” She spits.

Done with this encounter you make to move around her to finish your duties. You need rest. Body and now soul exhausted, the sanctuary of your quarters beckons like a beacon.

She steps in your way, smiling cruelly as she does.

You make to move around her again. She blocks you once more.

Body shaking with rage, you don’t bother stopping this time as she steps in front of you. Instead you let yourself fall against her, your bucket sloshing loudly as you angle the wide opening towards her.

The smell of piss and shit slices through the scent of sex and jasmine.

Amora screams, stepping back quickly until she bumps into Lord Loki who quickly pushes her away from himself, a wrinkle of disgust on his handsome face.

The green damask pattern of her silk gown grows slowly darker as the piss soaks into the fabric. A dark brown stain sets in towards the bottom.

“You probably should have moved out of my way, my lady.” The casual tone of your voice, the respect you can now fake like a professional grifter sounds so real that your taunt sounds like an apology.

“You bitch!” Amora growls.

Lord Loki catches her by the arm before she can move towards you.

“Perhaps, Lady Antress, you may want to go and change? If what you say is true and my brother will seek you out, I doubt very much he’d desire your company if you smell like shit and piss. No matter how delicious your cunt may be.” Lord Loki’s smirk gives away his delight at Amora’s distress.

Almost as soon as he’s grabbed her, he drops his hand and angles himself away from her slowly to avoid being soiled as well.

“Forgive me, my lady,” you curtsy, a perfect bow. “It was an accident.”

Amora glares at you then looks at Lord Loki who has taken to pressing the fingers of his right hand against his nose to shield from the smell, affixing her with a look of amused disgust.

Amora huffs, “Fuck you.” Then turns and stomps past you across the courtyard and disappears into the castle.

“That was nicely done,” Lord Loki says once you’re alone.

You give him a quick curtsy and move towards the gate to toss the remaining waste where it belongs in the river just past the far end of the large hedged garden.

Ignoring the sound of his following footsteps against the gravel and footstones, you wander through the fragrant rows of flowers.

“If anyone had been watching, no one would have doubted your sincerity with that apology.” He declares, hastening his footsteps to catch up with you, settling in to your right as he matches your pace. “I’m impressed. You never gave me the impression that you even knew how to lie let alone be deceptive.”

Grinding your teeth, you attempt to ignore him. You don’t engage.

He reaches out to grab your arm but you stop and twist away from him, disgust on your face as you stare at his left hand pointedly.

For a moment he looks confused and then laughs once in realization and takes his hand back.

“You won’t tell my brother, will you? About my…meeting with Lady Antress?” Lord Loki doesn’t sound like he actually cares.

You know that he and Thor never truly got along once they were of age. As children they had been inseparable. You’d followed them around and they’d welcomed you into their company as a playmate despite your gender.

Not until you also were of age did you realize that your parents and their parents had seen your friendship as an indicator of good fortune for a future marriage.

As the elder brother, Thor had been chosen. Your heart, having been devoted to Thor even as a girl, had been so full. Eagerly you’d thrown yourself into the arrangement of your marriage. Only now did you begin to realize that perhaps your heart had been the only one truly invested in the promises that Thor had made.

Agony cuts you again, tearing your heart apart a little more as the feeling of stupidity makes your eyes prick with tears again.

“Did you truly not know that Thor and Amora were fucking?” Lord Loki asks, voice devoid of anything but genuine curiosity.

A tear slips down along your cheek as you turn and resume your walk. Lord Loki follows.

“You wound me.” He says, voice low. “Were we not also friends before?”

Scoffing, you readjust the bucket and wince at the pain of the rope as you feel your skin break. You drop it, Lord Loki stepping back quickly but nothing splashes out this time. Most of the contents were currently soaking through Amara’s gown.

You lift your hand up, staring at the peel of skin and the slick of the pink muscle beneath as red begins to pool along the edges of the tear.

Just another wound. It’ll seal and heal and scar, joining the others on your once smooth hands.

The bite of pain gives you a reason to let your tears fall. You don’t hold them back as you sob quietly, uncaring of the audience to your humiliation.

“He’s an asshole,” Lord Loki states, stepping up in front of you. “Always has been. Arrogant, proud, and foolhardy. Thinks with his cock more than his brain.”

Again, you scoff. The irony of Lord Loki, whom you just caught fingering your former best friend in the garden, telling you that Thor thinks first with his cock does not escape you.

Lord Loki clears his throat, embarrassed?

“If I’d been your betrothed,” Lord Loki continues. “I’d have worshiped the ground you walk on.”

“You’re a liar, and just as susceptible to Amara’s games as he apparently is. Does it make you feel happy to sleep with your brother’s fiance? Does it give you pleasure to betray him?” You spit at him, angry at yourself, at Thor, at Amara, at your father and brother.

You’re just so angry. You’re always angry now. Even when you’re sad, you’re angry.

“Are you really worried about my betrayal against him when Amara just exposed him for the hypocrite he is?” Lord Loki demands, a little affronted by your ire.

Biting down hard on your lip, you squeeze around the wound on your hand.

“You’re all hypocrites. All of you deserve each other.” You realize and reach down to take the bucket again but are stopped by Lord Loki’s hand as it takes hold of the bucket for you.

He doesn’t wait for you to say anything and instead moves towards the gate at the end of the garden.

Quickly, you hurry after him, eager to take the bucket from him before anyone might look out onto the grounds and see him interfering with your duties. The punishment you’d receive would be painful.

“My Lord, please,” you finally beg, unable to really catch up with his long legged stride. “I’ll be punished if they find out.”

Lord Loki says nothing but strides out through the gate into the wooded expanse behind the garden.

Expertly, probably from the many hunts he’s gone on around the castle, he winds through the trees towards the rushing river whose roar you begin to hear.

“My Lord,” you hurry after him, nearly catching up but then he turns and disappears behind a tree only to emerge before another one. “Please,” you beg.

Taking a quick glance behind you towards the castle and its countless illuminated windows, you don’t see anyone watching but panic has begun to take hold.

He shifts and turns, stomping over the wild grass, the occasional crack of twig or fallen branch as he steps onto it, eaten by the rush of the water now louder.

You’re almost running now to keep up with him and still you lose sight of him when he turns around a particularly large tree. You stop beside it, scanning the area for him desperately.

The dungeons are so damp this time of year. You don’t want to get locked up if you can help it. Illness is something you don’t have much experience with and with your body weak and unhealthy now compared to the grace and flush of perfection you’d been with money and a constantly full belly, you might succumb to any serious illness.

You don’t want to die, despite the hardships you face.

With no sign of him, you move towards the section of river you always go to empty your buckets.

Minutes later you break through the treeline and spot Lord Loki crouched by the water, damp bucket set beside him now empty and rinsed.

Breathing heavily, you try to catch your breath and press your hand against your thundering heart, forgetting for a moment about the wound there and hiss.

Lord Loki rises, turning to look at you with a furrowed brow as he shakes the water from his hands and dries them on his dark emerald jerkin. He pulls down the puffed sleeves of his black shirt, fastening them around his wrists again but only finishes one before he’s holding his hand out for you.

“Come,” he orders. Not a request.

You don’t move, holding your wounded hand still as you watch him, pale skin nearly glowing in the light of the moon.

“Come here,” he orders again and this time you move towards him only a step. He steps towards you once, his hand held up again with more emphasis. “Shall I say please? Am I wrong? Were we not also friends?”

He smirks, amused by your hesitation for some reason.

Asshole. How dare he throw the past in your face. It’s coercion to remind you of your bond as children.

Unwilling to let him get the satisfaction of seeing you be defiant, you close the distance between you.

He takes your hand, holding it up close so that he can see it clearly. The moon is bright enough that he can and he pulls you towards the river’s edge. Squatting down again, he pulls you down with him.

You kneel, inching towards the edge as he pulls your hand into the water.

A hiss escapes your lips as the water coats the wound, tugging at the bit of skin still holding on until it tears free.

He holds it under the water for a minute then brings it back up to examine, pulling your arm so that you shift to face him and he does the same, kneeling before you.

“It’ll scar,” he realizes, but notes the other small scars that now cover your palm underneath the base of each finger.

You watch him as he traces each scar with his thumb, the golden emerald ring on his finger cool to the touch after being submerged in the cold river water for a bit. It feels nice against the heated skin of your palms. The friction of the rope burning them both.

“I remember when your hands were soft,” he notes.

Self conscious, you make to yank your hand from his grip but he tightens it and meets your eyes in silent order not to try that again.

Holding your gaze, he brings your palm up towards his mouth. Heart hammering against your chest, you try again to yank it from him but his lips close around the wound.

A strange tumble of knots in your stomach work their way up into your chest and constrict your heart.

More strange than that, a shift between your legs has your face and neck burning. Ears so hot that the breeze of the late spring air feels cold in comparison.

“Stop that,” you tell him, voice weak from shock at both his actions and your body’s reaction to it.

He does. Pulling your hand away from his mouth to look the wound over.

“The bleeding stopped,” he states, then reaches for your apron.

The tearing of fabric sends our heart seizing but more arousal pools between your legs. Embarrassed, you look away from him as he wraps your hand tightly. He must have dealt with many small injuries on his hunts because he ties the wrap around your palm securely and nothing save for cutting the fabric away will undo it.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He asks, voice low and deep. Almost dark in the way it slithers across your skin in a sultry embrace.

“No.” You answer honestly. “And it’s probably only because I caught you and you didn’t get to stick it in Amara.”

He releases your hand as you pull against his grip but he reaches forward to place his hand on your cheek. His left hand.

You almost pull away but remember him drying his hands on his vest. He’d deliberately washed both hands. Why?

“I meant what I said,” he whispers. “I would have worshiped the ground you walk on. I still can, if you’ll let me.”

“I’m a servant,” you spit, turning to look at him with anger and betrayal. “Anything you do to me will be forced merely by the fact that I cannot deny you anything you might want.”

Lord Loki frowns.

“You think so badly of me?” He wonders, hurt in his green eyes.

Your mind flashes back to your childhood. You, Thor, and Lord Loki running to the stables of his estate. You fall. Both Thor and Lord Loki stop but it’s Lord Loki that rushes back to you, helping you up and dusting you off as you cry loudly.

Thor rushes away, laughing in his eagerness to mount his horse.

More memories of your childhood assault you with images of Lord Loki and his kindness. Frequent acts of compassion and what you might have once considered friendly love. Thor’s are fewer and mostly contained to the days after your betrothal had been agreed upon.

“You will never be a servant to me,” Lord Loki assures you.

“It is what I am,” you counter. “You cannot simply ignore it.”

Lord Loki sighs, “You’ve always been so stubborn.”

He lets his hand glide down along the side of your neck, over your shoulder, down along your arm, and then he settles it along the side of your waist, the shape stiff thanks to the corset underneath.

It’s almost unbearable that he’s here, in your shame of servitude. His touch is confusing. You almost ask him why it feels so strange but instead focus on what’s most important.

“Is it true?” you ask, voice wary and quiet.

“Is what true?” There are so many things you could mean, you realize.

Part of you almost doesn’t want to know. So you hesitate.

Something softens in Lord Loki’s eyes as if he suddenly knows what you’re going to ask.

“Were…did Thor and Amara…?” You shake your head, trying not to let the pain show.

“Yes,” he answers, voice firm. He wants you to know that it’s true. No hesitation in his answer. “A few times even with you nearby. You almost caught them a handful of times. Were you only a few moments earlier or later.”

Head falling, you can’t help the tears that spring forth. So much of your past had been a lie. The strength of your house. The friendships you held dear. Your betrothed hadn’t truly loved you. If he had, he would not have betrayed you.

“My brother paints a pretty picture. Despite what he wants others to think he is changeable. He is impatient. Clearly that was his undoing with you. He is rash and prideful. He doesn’t think about what he does before he does it and because he would be insulted by it, would it not be sweet revenge to dangle what he wanted most in the open for all to see?” His words are slow and sure.

The last bit of his speech is careful and calculated. You can hear the manipulation in his words even though he tries not to let you. You’ve known him too long. Lord Loki also changed when you were betrothed to Thor. A shift of his usual kindness had taken place and the sneering Lord had been born. Intent on his own machinations to pry forth the dreary truths of his life.

He’d never been cold and harsh but he became so after your engagement. Thor had called him a snake and even then you could see it. The skill with which Lord Loki had developed his manipulating tactics and the precision with which he enabled them are known to you.

So you know what he’s saying even if he won’t say it clearly.

He takes hold of your chin and slowly lifts your head until he can see your eyes. There’s a strange eagerness in his own greens as he tries to read you. There’s a question there, an uncertain probing as his hand at your waist grows tighter, wrapping around to rest on your back, arching your body towards him.

That strange feeling between your legs surges. It’s Amara’s sneering face that breaks down your defenses. It’s the pride in her words as she’d bragged about being with Thor while you were still betrothed to him that shatters your will.

You do want to get revenge. You want Thor to know that you don’t care anymore. That he means as little to you now as you did to him then.

And what better way to show him that than with the one person he’d hate it happening with the most?

He might overlook some random stablehand. He might ignore some merchant’s son, even if he were above your station.

With Lord Loki…the bite would be as harsh as the sting of Amara’s venom was to you.

“Loki…” you whisper and he surges forward.

His lips are over yours, moving and massaging as you at first merely take his kiss.

He hates it. He pulls back and tilts his head the other way, kissing you more enthusiastically, trying to draw some type of reaction from you.

It’s taking you longer to submit than you thought it would take.

He pulls back one final time and tilts his head back again before this time pressing his lips against your own slowly. He doesn’t move then but instead waits, puckering against yours as he tugs you towards him instead of shoving himself onto you.

Strong lithe arms wrap around your waist and pull you up onto your knees and against his chest. He holds you so close, so tight. It isn’t rough or demanding but needy. As if he can’t get you close enough to his own body and he can only draw you closer and closer in the hopes that it’ll fill something in him that needs filling.

You place your hands on his shoulder as you tilt your head back with his kiss.

Finally, you find the strength in your body and pucker your own lips and return this gentle kiss.

Shock flashes in his eyes as he opens them to look at you. You watch the confusion bloom in them but then shut your own and give in.

Loki’s lips part and envelop yours. It shocks you the way it sends those knots back into your stomach. In response you do the same, enveloping his lips with your own.

Loki’s hands splay out against your back and he groans as he opens his mouth and the tip of his tongue slides against the crease of your lip in question.

In answer, you open for him and welcome his searching tongue with your own. The taste of him, the scent of him, it overwhelms and you gasp as you lose yourself in the moment.

You feel his hands drift around to your front, his right sliding up along your bodice until he can cup your breast, a groan slipping through his lips as he breaks your kiss and traces wet open kisses along your jaw, neck, and shoulder.

“Loki…” you gasp without ever having given your mouth permission to speak.

He bites your neck when you say his name. You moan and he licks the spot to soothe it.

“Loki…” You whisper again.

He’s driven mad by it and before your mind can understand what is happening, he’s laying over you, hands moving wildly underneath your back, running along your sides, fumbling around until he finds where your dress is fastened and he pulls at the ties.

“Should I stop?” He asks, breathless and looking as if he would like nothing more than to keep going.

“No.”

“Mm,” he moans and kisses you again, tongue claiming your mouth as his own.

You can feel him tearing away your apron and then your dress. Too eager to pull it off you completely, he merely shoves it down so that he lays spread out along your waist.

He looks down at you, the corset you wear hiding very little of your breasts. He kisses them each in turn, the soft fleshy bits that pool up above your undergarment.

You shudder at the touch of his lips.

“Has anyone kissed you here before?” He wonders. You’re not sure if he wants an answer or not but you shake your head anyway.

As he nuzzles the soft flesh, his hands work on the corset, pulling at strings blindly until it gives way and he pulls it off of you exposing you completely.

The cool air of the night perks your nipples more than his touch already has and he takes both breasts in his hands, pushing them together as he stares to the point of embarrassment.

Before you can cover yourself, he takes one into his mouth, suckling softly to draw soft moans from your open mouth.

He sees it, your gaping mouth, and seals it with his own, his tongue nearly in a frenzy as he devours your whimpers.

Cool air hits your suddenly exposed legs. You gasp sharply as he thrusts suddenly and the hard press of his cock rubs against you, shielded only by the fabric of his pants.

“Shall I stop?” He asks again, hands running down along your torso where he takes each breast in hand, massaging them slowly before rolling each of your nipples in slow deliberate circles.

“Don’t stop.”

It’s almost torture when he removes his hands from your overheated body. But you enjoy the sight as he removes his jerkin, followed shortly by his shirt. His body is sculpted but tight, not bulky. Lithe limbs hard and eager as he reaches down beneath your skirts in search of what he desires.

He hisses when his fingers touch you, soaking wet, and you reach down to hold his wrist not to stop but simply to hold on.

The thought crosses your mind that he’s already had someone else like this tonight and it almost makes you pull away. You’re so close to stopping but he sees the thought in your eyes and leans over you, removing his hand he leans over you, pressing his chest against yours and silencing your thoughts with a slow kiss.

It burns through you, the meaning clear.

“Shall I only touch you from now on, darling?” he whispers, kissing your chin then suckling along your throat.

He’ll leave marks…

“Tell me and I will only touch you.” He promises.

“Don’t make me promises you can’t keep, Loki.” You chastise him, mood nearly breaking again at the memory of the endless promises Thor had made you.

“I will never break a promise to you. Tell me to refrain and I will. I meant what I said,” he kisses his way up to your ear, licking the shell of it before hot breath sends your skin prickling. “I will worship the ground you walk on if you will only let me.”

He thrusts again. You shut your eyes, gasping at the cock straining for freedom.

“H-How do I know I can trust you?” You ask, unintentionally letting him see how desperate you are to do so.

He kisses you again, genuine and hungry for it.

“Give me a week and I shall truly prove it. Trust me until then and you shall see the depths of my willingness and devotion.”

He thrusts again and maybe you’re a fool for allowing yourself to consider this when he’s got you right where he wants you, but you nod.

“Only touch me,” you order him.

He smirks. He reaches down between your legs again and with one finger slowly strokes from the bottom of your cunt to the top, the lurid sounds of your wetness poignant despite the rushing river beside you.

“I’ll go slow,” he promises.

One finger. He uses only one finger and the pressure is intense. Sensations you’ve never felt before awaken every nerve ending in your body. His thumb presses against your clit and you nearly sit up with the shock of pleasure that rushes through you.

He adds a second finger, moving slowly as he pumps them in and out.

“Shall I stop, darling?”

“Never stop,” you gasp, still gripping his wrist.

Another smirk on that handsome face, his green eyes dazzling you as he shifts back to his knees.

He licks his lips as he pulls a tie free at the front of his trousers and slowly pushes them lower and lower until he can kick free of them completely.

The length of him is breathtaking. He reaches down and strokes his cock, slowly running his thumb along the shiny pink head before he scoots closer, your skirt blocking him from view.

He rubs himself against you, slicking himself with your own arousal.

There he waits, watching you as you brace your hands on the soft grass beneath you but open your legs wider.

Your eyes meet and both of you know that there will be no coming back from this choice. Nothing either of you do will ever erase this line you’ve nearly crossed completely.

He pushes in slowly, leaning over you as he gets deeper and deeper until he’s buried completely. Chest to chest. Face to face. He grunts deep, face twitching as he settles within you.

It’s so much pressure it’s painful. The feeling of him is so foreign. You’re not sure whether it feels good or not.

“Fuck,” he whispers and tenses then shudders. You feel a wave of heat within you, followed by the sensation of slow moving drippage. “You feel…”

He seems lost for words. Do you feel terrible?

He pulls his hips back just a bit and pushes back in.

You whimper, pushing against his chest to look down where your bodies connect.

“Loki,” you fret.

“I’ll go slow,” he promises. “Be calm my sweet. I will ease you into this.”

Each thrust into you, his pelvis pushes against your clit and each time you moan, wishing he’d do that more. The feeling of him is filling, strange, but not unpleasant. Just different.

As your body relaxes a bit more, Loki’s thrusts grow faster. You smile unintentionally as he presses against your clit more often.

“You like that?” he wonders, stopping as he pushes all the way in and then rolls his hips against you.

Your responding moan gives him confirmation and he settles himself over you fully.

As he thrusts he presses harder against you, lingering for a moment before doing it again and again. The slap of his skin against yours grows louder and he finds a rhythm that has you both breathless and moaning.

“Loki,” you plead, feeling the build up of tension within your body.

“Come for me, darlin,” he kisses you, subduing your voice as he pumps into you.

You’re unsure for certain what he means but your body seems to listen. You wrap your legs around him, holding him as close as you can as he continues to thrust into you. The sweat of his body glistens in the moonlight. The soft silk of his hair tickles your skin as he arches up slightly so that he can take your breast into his mouth again as he keeps pumping into you.

You feel it…so close.

“Loki,” you whimper, wanting to reach the end of this tightrope.

He growls once and brings his hand down between your connected bodies. His thumb presses against your clit firmly. He presses and presses, rolling it in small circles with such precise pressure.

Your body explodes into endless fuzzy light. You arch into him, trembling as his thumb continues to draw pleasure from you in spasms as he keeps moving his cock in and out.

“Fucking hell,” he grunts and thrusts one final time his whole body tight in its release as that same sensation of heat fills you again.

Both of you seem to have stars in your eyes as he collapses on top of you, kissing you slowly with his eyes wide open to watch the expression of pure bliss on your face.

“I think-” Loki says, pulling back as he slowly helps to pull your dress up a bit to cover your exposed breasts. He kisses each one before he does so. “-it goes without saying that I would appreciate it if I was the only one allowed to touch you.”

You’re floating, swathed in golden light, unable to process anything he’s saying because of the pure escape from and yet complete connection to your body Loki’s cock just gave you.

You hear him chuckle. He pinches your cheek, drawing your attention back to him.

“Agreed?”

“What?” You gasp breathlessly.

“No one may touch but me. And I will touch no one but you.” He declares. “Is that understood?”

The authority in his voice draws your legs wide as that throbbing from before is renewed.

Loki’s face twitches at the movement.

“Show me again,” you plead.

“Tell me no one else will touch you,” he orders.

“No one else will touch me,” you agree.

“If you betray me,” you begin.

Loki’s eyes soften. He leans down to press a kiss to your lips.

“I promised you that I would worship the ground you walk on.”

He kisses you again, slowly, feeling every inch of your mouth against his.

“One week, my darling. I’ll prove to you my devotion.” He promises.

The sincerity in his voice has your legs spreading again and he hisses as you shift. Inside you, you feel him harden.

“Show me…” you beg.

“You’re going to be insatiable.” He realizes.

And revenge against Thor aside, you realize that being with Loki might be the smartest thing you’ve ever done.

“Do you have any idea how long I have waited to make you mine?” Loki wonders, stroking your cheek.

“How long?” You wonder, reaching up to take hold of his hand.

“I’ll show you.”

There will be NO tags.

#loki x reader #medieval!loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x you #loki x female reader #loki laufeyson #loki x reader fanfiction #loki fanfiction #loki x reader fanfic #loki x reader fic #marvel fanfiction

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benjimarii · 3 months

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This old art is not related (I just like these fellas), but it's a new year! So I'm reposting the link to my Ben 10 Discord server! If anyone wants to join in the chaotic little server, feel free too! It's where I'm most active, and where I share most of my art that doesn't go on my socials! Also, everyone on there is super chill, so if you want to make friends that also gush about Ben 10, feel free to pop right in :) Anywho, have a great day, and here's the invite! https://discord.gg/KZ2H8vyAYb

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manasurge · 7 months

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(Just reposting this here from the server) My revenge gift art for @wyldblunt for drawing my girl so good!!!!! Q///Q.

Anywho I ADORE Daimhin and her gorgeous Mordrem design, and had been wanting to draw her for a while, so I took advantage of this lkjdfs. I also just feel so bad for him and want to be his friend 😭

#artgallery #gift art #gw2 oc #sylvari oc #sylvari #gw2 #gw2 fan submission #Daimhin #mordrem #I was under the impression that the hair was like petals; so I tried my best to replicate it; hence all the weird curling and extra lines #I would've done the whole body; but I wanted to so it in one sitting. One day... one day...#I also ADORE Fidelma (I legit love her so much) and I love!!! Merrit and Lorelei #I think I noticed a pattern in me gravitating towards sylvari with this type of hairstyle lskjfldsf #also sry I deviated a bit from the design and went full kitty mode with the face :( I couldn't make it as pretty as I wanted -#- but i still tried my best to encapsulate what I could from the refs I could find lksjfldsf

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queenendless · 1 month

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Giddy Giant

Working on new content for here on other stuff like P3R and maybe YGO in the future but its mostly JJK still for now. Anywho — !

Lee!Satoru Gojo x Ler!GN!Reader.

Short fic piece on established relationship, tickle madness/fluff, foot tickles/worship. The moment I saw the official artwork, my inner ler demanded content.

Sorry for my personal kinks/fetishes and it's fine if it turns you off from reading this but honestly I wrote this in like 2 days ... yeah inspiration comes and goes and works in odd ways so sorry about that.

*DON'T PLAGARIZE, REPOST, TRANSLATE, COPY AND/OR EDIT MY FANFIC WORK. RATHER IF YOU ENJOY MY CONTENT, REBLOG, LIKE AND FOLLOW, THNX.

Downing a bunch of coffee with mini marshmallows would satiate the sweets addicted Satoru Gojo for the time being.

But after finishing a week’s worth of work exorcizing curses, it would make even the one at the apex of sorcery get exhausted.

So cups of that cozy warm beverage only knocked him right out.

To see him out of his usual work attire and into more casual clothing was nice. Having no blindfold on meant his bangs hung freely in his face.

Laying down on the couch meant his long slim legs took up most of it, with his big dawgs pressed against the couch arm.

You peaked over the couch, smitten at the breathtaking sight of your partner fast asleep, feasting on how irresistible he looked.

Now that he's back in your shared home, that meant he trusted you enough to let his Infinity down and recharge.

But after being apart for so long, you wanted to hear his genuine melody right away.

The carefree laughs he gives off to everyone else was always for show or mockery due to his bad personality.

And yet, around you, his persona as the strongest could be dropped. To you, he's just Satoru Gojo, your partner, free to unwind.

For you, plopping on the arm rest those grippers pressed up against, your favorite unwinding method went underway.

His face scrunched up a bit, underlined by quiet grumbles as you stroked a finger up and down one sole before his other foot came in to brush your ghost touches away.

You grinned slyly, repeating the same brush stroke to the other sole, watching in silent glee as those strewn lips started stretching.

Tenderly rubbing his bridges in circles, your hands went all spider-like as they scratched at them next.

His legs shifted as his head craned back against the other armrest, humming some deep chuckles behind those now curling lips.

Slowly wiggling your digits into his arches had him kicking, nearly hitting you, but you sprung off the arm rest, when you froze.

“If you wanted to get a session going, you could have just waited until after I fully rested up. But attacking me in my sleep with my guard down like that … sneaky little ler you~”

Despite getting caught, Gojo's slanted eyes danced with mirth, peeking from underneath his arm resting against his forehead. He then propped those feet up on the armrest, waving them temptingly, waiting for your next move.

Gently kneading that velvety foot with ease made you relish in how soft they felt despite the man moving around so much and kicking the shit out of foes and the like. Your thumbs wiggled deeply into his silky skin, licking and smooching, for his taste is one that could never be topped.

He craned his head back as his adorable giggles left his open mouth smile, plopping his spare foot atop your noggin. “Does using you as my new footstool earn me anything?”

“Careful what you wish for.”

Releasing your current target, you pulled his other foot off your cranium before squeezing it in both your hands, gentle nibbling on his squirmy taunting toes had him giggling louder, kicking his spasming free leg out in response.

“Maybe I should have asked for this kind of treatment the moment I got back.” He chortled through his words, squirming as he sat up now, pulling his free foot out of your reach to flex it. “Though I'd rather you sit your cute little fanny down if we're gonna keep going.”

Smooching the ball of his foot, you freed it as you curled up on the empty cushion spot, snatching up the other foot, cradling it still before lathering those toes in the same sultry treatment as you gave the previous five, working your tongue in between them, earning a guffawing Gojo squirming in his spot.

“If it means I can keep doing this, fine by me.” Your breathy words made him shiver from the tingling touch to his slick skin.

“Can't believe being the lee in this can feel this good. Receiving this kind of worship from you is interesting. Though it'd devastate my very soul if I reflexively hit you by accident~!” He dramatically cried out before breaking out into full blown howling as you sat on his calves to slide all your fingers in between all his toes, attacking the pads and stems in your vibrating frenzy.

“That's a risk I'm willing to take – AAH~!”

You suddenly yelp as Satoru slid his hands underneath your top from behind, kneading and pinching your flesh, jolting in his grasp while letting out many shrieks yourself.

“Bad move to turn your back on your prey ... Y/n.”

Your futile attempt to pull away from him drove him to pull himself in until he literally splayed up against your back, leaning down to chuckle sinisterly right in your blushing ear.

“This is where you're weak, right~?” His teasing only heightened the ticklish sensation as his hands slid down to cup your jiggly belly and vibrate those sculpted fingers of his crazily, bringing out a stream of high-pitched howling and frantic limbs flailing outta you.

“I'm down for switching our roles right about now. You're not the only one who's missed the sound of our laughter.” He littered your face with butterfly kisses in tune with his fingers digging into your hips, making you laugh harder. “Especially yours.”

“No fair! I was just getting started!” You whined through your cackling when his lips began buzzing into your neck, earning spouts of screams and squirming from you.

“You've been a fabulous tickle monster thus far, Y/n. But now, let your dear Toru return the favor~” His devious laughter mingled with your guffawing as his lone digit jiggled into your belly button.

His unrestrained laughter filled up the room with yours, caging your legs between his own. Shedding tears from the ticklish overload, you were smothered by his unbridled warmth, tickles and all.

After a while spent becoming puddy in his dexterous hands, he stopped, letting you sag against his chest, shivering from his ghost touches, tired giggles leaving your parted lips.

Nuzzling his nose against your tear-stained hot cheek, he licked the salty goodness off your skin. Satoru beamed with affection for you, pecking your lips lovingly with a giggle of his own. “Good to be back in your arms again, my beloved ler.”

He fell back against the couch so he could lay there with you entangled in his arms, your legs intertwined, as you nuzzled your tired face against your makeshift pillow that is his chest, finally settling down with a smile of your own.

“Welcome home.”

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autumnshighlady · 2 months

Text

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 23)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: continuation of the last chapter

warnings: nothing but pure angst tbh

word count: 4.8k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: i was debating letting y'all stew on the cliffhanger for a week or so but after killing Lirilla I figured that'd be too mean. So anywho, here's the next part...

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20

read on ao3

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The world stopped turning as Eris’s screams ripped through the air. Grief tore through Eris’s end of the bond like a current, threatening to spill over and consume you. The Prince fell to his knees, crawling towards his mother’s body. Nesta’s grey eyes were wide with horror, her hand over her mouth as she shrunk back. It wasn’t hard to figure out just how easily this reminded her of her own father’s death.

You were utterly paralyzed with shock, jaw slack as your gaze remained glued on the lifeless body of the Lady of Autumn. Her russet eyes were dull, the warmth that she had gazed at you with as she tried to comfort you was completely gone. Her collarbone jutted out beneath her thin, pale skin. Only then did you notice how small, how frail she truly was. It was as if the life had been sucked from her body long before her husband snapped her neck.

Beron stood over Lirilla’s body, staring down at Eris with disgust. There was no remorse on his face, as if he hadn’t just murdered his wife to spite his eldest son. Eris wept, pale hands trembling as he cradled Lirilla’s face in them. He pressed his forehead into hers, gut-wrenching sobs shredding at your heart as you watched the normally stone-cold male wailing over his mother’s body. It was as if he was a child again, desperately clinging to his mother in search of some feeling of comfort from her lifeless form.

“You’re sick.” Nesta’s voice was a broken whisper, laced with hatred as she met the eyes of the High Lord. There was no sign of those glorious silver flames, as if they, too, had given up all hope. Eris had stopped sobbing, his eyes glassy and numb as he laid over his mother’s body, wrapping his arms around her small form.

Beron only smiled sickly. “I told him countless times, his soft spot for his wench of a mother would be his downfall. I am making him stronger, this way. He will not be burdened by doltish feelings anymore.”

“You’d murder his mother and let his own mate get killed just to prove a point?” Nesta said, looking as if she was going to throw up. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to look away as you leaned into Azriel for support. At this point, you weren’t sure if your legs would support you any longer.

That otherworldly High Lord power thrummed from Beron as he spoke. “Precisely. Now here’s what’s going to happen. Eris is the only son I have left who is not a whimpering fool. Despite his scheming, I will not allow myself to be without an heir. It would weaken me and this court, and I will not have that happen. You are to kneel before me and swear fealty to me, in perpetuity. After you serve your punishment, all will be forgiven. This marriage will resume. The other girl will die, and you and my son will wear these for the rest of your lives.”

The dread that rippled through your body at Beron’s promise of your demise was quickly replaced by a newfound horror as the High Lord snapped his fingers, and two objects appeared in his hands. They were golden torques, a sharp arrow at each end poised towards where Nesta and Eris’s throats would be. From the second they appeared, you felt a darkness creep into the room. And by the way Nesta flinched, she could feel it too. There was a sentience to them, as if they were speaking to you in an ancient tongue, each word coming out as a demonic hiss.

“What the hell are those?” Nesta muttered, her breathing shallow.

“My insurance policy,” Beron smirked. “A way of ensuring you never even think of pulling a stunt like this again.”

Something clicked in your brain as you recognized what the torques were. Fear hit you like an icy wave, and you frantically reached out to Nesta. Don’t let him put those around your neck, You mind-spoke to her. Whatever you do, do not put it on. I’ve read about objects like these. They come from another world and will enslave you to Beron. Your free will would be gone and you will become his puppet with no way out.

You vividly recalled finding the ancient scroll in the House of Wind’s library. It was nearly completely faded, but with Gwyn’s help you managed to make out the text. It spoke of another universe, one infested with demons that used dark objects like rings and collars to enslave and possess people with dark magic, allowing a new host to take over. From the way Beron smirked at Nesta and Eris, it was clear that the objects in his hand possessed the same properties.

How the hell he managed to get his hands on something like this, you didn’t know.

“Now kneel before me, both of you.” Beron continued coldly. “And beg for forgiveness.”

Nesta looked back to you, desperation in her eyes. You only stared back hopelessly, knowing there was nothing either of you could do at this point. You slumped against Azriel, the Illyrian still as a statue, shadows swirling around protectively. His siphons continued to glow, but you knew Beron wouldn’t break a sweat ripping through his shield.

It was over.

All your planning, everything you’d done to get to this point, was all for nothing. Beron was about to kill you and enslave Nesta and Eris for eternity.

“Leave.” You muttered to Azriel softly. “There’s no use in you dying with me. Get out of here.”

You felt oddly calm in the face of death. Even though you were utterly powerless in this situation, you could at least make sure that Azriel was able to get out. He had helped you enough, you weren’t about to let him be dragged down with you.

But the shadowsinger’s voice was firm as he spoke. “Don’t,” He said sternly. “I will not let you get killed.”

You sighed as his shadows curled around your fingers reassuringly, as if they were trying to provide some form of comfort. You took one last look at Nesta and Eris before closing your eyes.

“No.” Eris’s hoarse voice echoed throughout the chamber, making your eyes snap open.

With one last sorrowful glance at his mother’s body, Eris pushed himself up. Amber eyes steeled with determination as he stared down his father.

“What did you just say to me?” Beron growled.

“I said,” Eris’s voice strengthened. “No.”

The High Lord scoffed. “Wipe those tears off your face before you speak to me, boy. Love is weakness, your mother’s death is on your hands–”

Beron didn’t get to finish his sentence before the ground shook beneath you and angry orange fire erupted from Eris. Pure, unfiltered power filled the room as Eris let out a godly cry, flames rippling off of him in waves. It wrapped around Beron, smothering the High Lord’s every attempt to fight back.

Beron may have more experience and magic, but it was no match for Eris’s rage.

The dark cell was lit up in an orange light as Eris was enveloped in his own flames. They swirled around him like a suit of armour, different shades of red yellow and orange blazing furiously. Beron screeches as the waves of fire smothered him, burning his aged skin layer by layer.

You saw Nesta step towards him, silver flame in hand, ready to join the fight.

No, You said to her. Eris needs to do this on his own.

She paused, then nodded, taking a step back.

Eris’s fire was relentless, surging into his father with all their might. His lip was drawn back in a snarl as he continued to cast his flames into Beron, burning the male alive. He looked like a flaming god, a phoenix of hell sent to remake the world with his fire. You covered your ears with your hands, trying to block out the sickening screams of Beron. Instead of watching, you buried your face into Azriel’s side. As much as you hated Beron, this was not something that you wanted to bear witness to.

The roar of the fire was thunderous, threatening to overwhelm all your senses. It shook your very bones like an earthquake. Only when you felt it cease, did you finally open your eyes.

There was a pile of ash where Beron Vanserra once stood, the gut-churning smell of burnt flesh potent in the air. Angry scorch marks adorned the walls and floor from where Eris’s flames had been minutes ago as they had relentlessly torn away at the High Lord. Eris was doubled over on the floor, Nesta crouching by his side.

“Eris?” She asked worriedly as the male gasped.

A soft glow emitted from Eris’s skin, and he writhed in agony as new power flowed through him. The power of a High Lord.

You watched in awe as the scent of raw magic filled your senses, its coppery taste in your mouth as you breathed it in. You could see Eris’s veins through his pale skin, shining like gold as his body was encapsulated in magic. After a minute, he stopped moving. You could hear his heartbeat, so slow it made you break out of Azriel’s arms and rush forward.

You called out his name, crouching down beside Nesta and putting a hand on the autumn male’s arm. Immediately, you jerked it back. His skin was burning hotter than anything you had felt. He was utterly still, almost dead looking beside his mother.

As a final resort, you opened up that part of the bond you had tried to seal shut. Eris? You called out to it. A powerful hum pulsed in response, unlike anything you had ever felt before. You could feel Eris on the other end – different than before, but your Eris nonetheless.

You felt Nesta’s presence too, her silver mist of the bond reaching down towards Eris as well. In the distance, through that mental bridge you could see a faint silhouette writhed in orange flame. You extended a hand towards it through the bond, reaching out for Eris. Nesta did the same, and together, you reached down the bond and grasped onto Eris, giving a gentle but firm pull.

Amber eyes shot open and Eris gasped for breath as he woke.

“Thank the Mother.” You muttered. As much as you were mad at Eris for keeping the bond a secret, you couldn’t imagine what you’d have felt if he didn’t wake up. For him to die thinking you hated him… it was something you couldn’t handle.

With the help of you and Nesta, Eris rose to his feet. A new aura of power surrounded him, the unmistakable magic of a new High Lord.

Beron was dead, and his magic had chosen Eris.

“Are you really…” Nesta asked, grey eyes scanning Eris up and down. “High Lord?”

Eris nodded, unable to speak. But the powerful glow in his eyes faded as his gaze landed on Lirilla’s body, still crumpled on the floor. “It doesn’t matter.” He muttered. “He killed her. With his bare hands.”

Your heart broke even more hearing the defeat in his voice. This was a moment Eris should have been celebrating – it was something he spent years trying to achieve, yet he paid a price for it.

No. You wouldn’t let it end like this.

Carefully, you let go of Eris and walked over to Lirilla’s body. You knelt down beside it, brushing the auburn hair from her pale face.

“What are you doing?” Nesta asked, confused.

“I want to try something.” You responded. Not bothering to explain, you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. You pictured that clearing in the village, the one in a dream-like state where you first met Estelle.

Please, Estelle, You called out to her. I need you right now.

Truthfully, you had no idea if this would work. Your conversation with the goddess could have been a one time thing. But you couldn’t imagine Eris risking everything to help you, only to lose his mother for good in the process.

After a few minutes of pleading, you felt your eyes open. But you were no longer in the dark dungeons of Autumn. Instead, you were on a bench in your village clearing, a gentle white mist covering the surroundings. You felt light and weightless, all aches and pains of your body having vanished.

“Hello, my child.” Came the familiar voice of Estelle.

You whipped your head to the side as the mists parted, the Mother goddess walking through towards you. Her white robes floated around her, eyes shining with starlight as her gaze landed on you. You bowed your head respectfully, and she laughed.

“There is no need for that.” Estelle said softly as she came to stand in front of you.

“Sorry.” You muttered, straightening your back. “But I really need your help.”

The goddess smiled sadly. “I know what you are going to ask of me. But I cannot bring the Lady Lirilla back.”

“I know,” You continued, taking a deep breath. “But I was wondering if I could. After all, you said that when Hybern attacked my village, I absorbed the life force of everyone that died, and that it became a power I could use to wield.”

Estelle did not say anything. She only stared at you with an unreadable expression.

“Please,” You begged, voice breaking. “She’s Eris’s mother.”

“My child,” Estelle’s voice was gentle but firm. “Lirilla suffered a hard life. Even if she were to be brought back, she would have a lot of trauma to deal with. Letting her rest may be the kinder path.”

“No.” You said sternly. “After everything she went through she deserves a chance. Feyre Archeron was brought back, as were Rhys and Amren during the war. How is it fair that they get to be brought back after death and Lirilla doesn’t?”

“Not everything is meant to be fair.”

You stood up, facing the goddess with a steeled expression. Anger boiled in your gut at her refusal to help. “Look,” You snapped. “I came here asking you for guidance, not permission. I may be an incarnate version of you, but I am not tied to your decisions. This is my power to do with as I please, so I am asking you once again: could I use it to bring her back?”

You half expected Estelle to get angry and send you back to reality, but she just looked at you with a sombre expression. “So young, so determined.” She muttered. “You remind me of myself when I was your age, all those millenia ago. I will not stop you, but it is not simple. In order to bring Lirilla back, you must do a trade – find a soul who died that day in your village who is willing to give up their eternity of peace. While you can bend this power of life to your will, the life forces of those who you absorbed still belong to them.”

“A soul for a soul.” You muttered.

“Yes. That is the only way you can bring her back in a manner that does not utilise dark magic and risk severe consequences.”

“Ok. How do I find a soul then?”

Estelle smiled softly, putting a soft hand on your cheek. “You have been so brave and endured so much.” She murmured. “Good luck, my child. May we meet again.”

“Wait–” Your protest died off as her starry image faded into the mist. You huffed angrily, wringing your hands together. Time was running out – you had no idea how long you would stay here, but you were determined to make the most of it.

Gathering your wits, you stepped through the mist along the path that led to the heart of your village. Your feet made no noise on the ground, as if you were a ghost. Eventually, the mist began to lighten, and you heard lively chatter in the distance.

You broke into a full on sprint, racing towards the noise. As you went through the archway of your village entrance, the sight before you made you stop dead in your tracks.

Children were playing games under the large willow tree, their laughter echoing on the gentle breeze. Elderly couples sat on the benches, content to enjoy the sunshine. Smells of freshly baked bread and rich flowers filled your nostrils, and your eyes watered. Your village was lively again, the faces of those you had seen bloody and dead now filled with life as they once were.

“Hey, bitch!” The familiar husky voice of your best friend Sapphyra sounded in your ear as strong arms wrapped around you.

Nothing could stop the tears that flowed down your cheeks as you felt Sapphyra hug you. Sobs wracked your body as you clung onto her, savouring every inch of her presence. Her dark hair was pulled back in its usual braid, her muscles even leaner than when she was alive.

“It’s you…” You sobbed. “I can’t believe it’s you. Last time I say you–”

“Hush,” She said gently, pulling away and holding you by your shoulders, as if sensing you needed grounding. “We don’t talk about that here. None of us speak of the day we died. It’s not something any of us wants to remember.”

You wiped your tears away. Your heart swelled, seeing her filled with life again.

“I know why you’re here.” Sapphyra said. “You want one of us to trade our souls to bring Eris’s mother back.”

You nodded. “I can’t let her go, Sapphyra.”

“I know. But there’s something you should know. Whoever helps you bring her back will lose their spot in the afterlife. If Lirilla dies, that soul will not return here. They will be gone forever.”

You blanched, guilt prickling your heart. “How am I supposed to ask anyone here to do that for me? It’s not fair to them.”

She smiled. “I don’t think you’ll have to ask. We’ve all been watching you, rooting for you on our end of the universe. There will be somebody who is willing to give up their spot in eternity to help you. I promise.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. Now, enough of me. You only have so much time here, so make the most of it.” Sapphyra clapped you on the back, pushing you towards the crowd that had gathered at your arrival.

You spent the next few minutes receiving more hugs than you ever had in your entire life. Fae of all ages holding your hand, wishing you the best and saying how proud they were of you. You did not idle for small talk, knowing Sapphyra was right. You only had so much time.

A familiar male made his way through the crowd, a tender smile on his face. “Hey, kiddo.” He said softly.

Your throat closed up. “Father…”

You leapt into his arms, clinging onto him like a child on their first day of school. He hugged you tightly, your tears staining the pale green tunic he wore as you sobbed into him.

“I am so proud of you.” He murmured, kissing the top of your head. “You have fought so hard. Harder than you should have to.”

“I’m tired, dad.” You said quietly. “I’m so tired.”

“I know. But the hardest part is over. You just have to figure out how to move forward.”

You let go of his embrace, staring up at his green eyes sorrowfully. “I miss you.”

He smiled. “I miss you, too. But there’s someone else who wants to see you, and you don’t have much time. Go to the house. She’s waiting for you.”

Your father patted you on the back, gently steering you in the direction of your family cottage a few feet away. It took everything in you not to turn back for one more glance at him as you made your way up the steps and pushed open the door.

There, in the living room of your cottage, stood your mother. A soft smile on her face, devoid of the blood and gore you had last seen on it as she died. It was the straw that broke you, and you crumpled to the floor in front of her. “Mama…” Was all you could choke out as she wrapped her arms around you.

“It’s okay, honey. I’m here.” She murmured, stroking your hair. “Oh, my sweet girl…”

You didn’t know how long you stayed in her embrace. It felt like forever, but not long enough as she gently pried you off of her.

“There’s so much I want to say, but we don’t have the time.” Your mother said urgently as you leaned into her touch, afraid to let go. “You came here to save another person from losing their mother, did you not?”

You nodded.

“I may not have been able to help stop any of the horrible things that happened to you,” She said sorrowfully. “But I can help you with this. Let me be the soul who will bring the Lady of Autumn back.”

Your heart dropped. “No.” You said firmly. “Sapphyra told me that whoever helps me will lose their spot here in the afterlife. If I die I won’t see you again.”

She smiled, eyes lined with tears. “I know that, my love.”

“But you’re finally at peace.” You sobbed harder.

“Which will be for nothing if I do not use it to help my daughter.” Your mother insisted. “I know what it’s like to lose a mother. And so do you. And so does Nesta. If we can spare Eris that pain too, that is a sacrifice I will gladly make for your mate.”

You took in a shaky breath. “Me, Nesta, and Eris… all being mates. You don’t disapprove or think it’s weird?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “No, I do not. I think you deserve all the love this world has to offer you. I am happy for you, (Y/N). And I want you to live a long and happy life with both your mates at your side.”

As much as you wanted to bring Lirilla back, your heart shattered all over again at the thought of losing your mother twice. “Please…” You cried. “Please don;t leave me again.”

“I will never leave you,” She promised. “By doing this, I will be even closer to you than I am now. I will always be with you.”

“Will she know it’s you?”

“No, she will not know whose soul brought her back. But you will. And you’ll have a piece of me with you down there in Autumn.”

Your head ached from the tears you had been shedding. Your kind, selfless mother was willing to trade a peaceful eternity with her husband and community, all so your mate could have his own mother.

You wanted to say no, to demand somebody else does it. But you remembered Estelle’s words, how a soul had to be given willingly. Your mother offering her own as a trade was your only chance.

“Are you sure?” You asked, cherishing the sight of her kind face for the last time of your immortal life.

Your mother nodded. “A thousand percent.”

You could barely get the words out. “Then tell me what I need to do.”

“In a minute, you will go back to your world. I will fade into a ball of light, summoned into your hands. I want you to press it to Lirilla’s heart, use your magic to push it into her body. I will do the rest. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. It’s time now. Come here.” She pulled you into one last hug, the final embrace your mother would ever be able to give you in her current form, even if you died one day and joined your people here in the afterlife. Her comforting scent of jasmine surrounded you as you clung onto her.

A gentle, white light began to glow from her skin, and you sobbed harder as you felt her slowly begin to slip away.

“I love you.” Were the last words to leave her lips as the light consumed you both, and you tumbled back into darkness.

*********************

When you opened your eyes again, the stifling smell of the dungeon washed away the blissful memories of the village. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness, and your vision focused finally. Nesta and Eris were crouched across from you on the other side of Lirilla’s body.

“(Y/N)?” Eris asked. “Where did you go just now?”

You didn’t say anything, too tired to even try and explain. You looked down at the Lady of Autumn, laying on her back in front of you. And then you felt it – that warm, jasmine scented presence compacted into a ball of light in your hand. Slowly, you uncurled your fist to reveal it, and its soft light filled the room.

Nesta’s eyes widened. “What is that…”

“My mother…” You choked out, curling your other hand over top of the small bulb of light. “She offered her soul in exchange… it’s to bring your mother back.”

Eris’s jaw went slack. “(Y/N)...”

“Don’t…” You cut him off, not wanting to cry again. “Don’t make this harder. Let me do this for you, please.”

The new High Lord paused for a moment, then nodded, sorrow filling his eyes as he observed your tear stained cheeks. You took a shaking breath, pressing your light-filled hands to Lirilla’s chest, just above her heart.

A soft sound like a dewdrop hitting a puddle echoed throughout the dungeon, and you closed your eyes and willed the light to spread.

And spread it did.

A white glow washed under Lirilla’s skin, expanding from her heart down her arms and legs, before finally coming over her face. The scent of jasmine and starlight filled the air, a bittersweet reminder of what this had cost. A gentle breeze caressed your cheek, its presence unmistakable.

Thank you for letting me do this. It seemed to say.

As the light faded, the Lady of Autumn’s eyes opened as she inhaled a breath of life. You fell back, breath shuddering as the world spun slightly. Your legs were wobbly as you pushed yourself back up. You staggered backwards into Azriel, who helped you regain your balance. You turned to thank him, but his hazel eyes were fixed on the scene before him, utterly shocked.

Eris let out a cry of relief, reaching forward and grabbing his mother’s hands, which now were bright with warmth. “Mother?”

“Eris?” Lirilla croaked, looking around frantically. “Your father…”

“He’s gone.” Eris said through tears. “I killed him. You don’t ever have to be afraid of him again.”

Lirilla’s eyes widened, and she sat up with the help of Eris and Nesta. “I… I was dead, wasn’t I? He killed me. How…”

While Nesta helped the Lady of Autumn stabilise herself, Eris walked over to you. Your throat was dry, your legs so weak you relied on Azriel to help hold you upright. Between the mental exhaustion of your ordeal and the physical toll the magic took, you were utterly spent. But you met his gaze, wanting to say a hundred things to him at once. But nothing came out.

The new High Lord dropped to his knees before you, grabbing your hands and pressing his forehead against them. “I am indebted to you for the rest of our eternal lives, (Y/N).” He said. “There are no words in any tongues I know to properly thank you for what you did. For what you sacrificed to do this for me. I…” His voice trailed off.

You crouched down in front of him, gently removing your hands from his and cupping his face. “You’re my mate, Eris.” You said softly. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.”

As you wrapped your arms around the sobbing male, you felt the glow of the mating bond in your chest, brighter and stronger than ever. Nesta appeared beside you, pulling both you and Eris into her arms as she let out a sigh of relief.

You felt the bond between you and her glow, too. Each rope led to the two fae in your arms, all glowing with equal strength and passion. There was no faltering, no weakness of one bond over the other. They were all the same – all pure, unfiltered love.

As Eris pressed his head into your chest, you leaned your own head on Nesta’s shoulder, the presence of your two mates soothing the raw ache in your chest from your mother’s sacrifice.

You did well, child, Came Estelle’s faint voice in your head. Everything will be okay.

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