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januaryembrs · 2 days

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YOU WERE LIKE AN ANGEL TO ME | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

Request: my DARLING @avis-writeshq says- i’m a menace but i ADORED the spencer fic u posted 🥹 UGH THEYRE SO CUTE YOUR HONOURRRR 👹if it’s okay, may i request another fic with the same couple 🙈 perhaps one day reader is not as sweet or chirpy as she usually is, or she gets injured or threatened in the field? much love and lots of kisses xoxo 🫶

Description: Spencer swore he wanted to hate her. She was too happy, too chirpy, too much for a guy who spent months rotting in prison. But how could he ever hate her when she cried in his chest like that?

Length: 5k (I'm feral for these two)

warnings: post prison reid. Angst. depiction of suicide from the Unsub. gory language used. guns mentioned. mention of $nuff video and other murders. Nothing that hasn't been done on CM already.

authors note: if y'all want to see more with these two just SAY because I am all ears I would die on this ship

There were a lot of times in his time at the BAU that Spencer had wished he could have changed the outcome of their bad guy, surprisingly enough. There was the time they found their UnSub a few minutes too late, and one of the victims fathers decided to take him out then and there with a shotgun to the head. He was just a kid. There was the entire time he was with Tobias Hankel, and he lived in a state of both fear and sympathy for the boy trapped in his own body after years of abuse. There was Nathan Harris, the kid who had stopped him at the subway station and practically begged him for help to stop his urges to murder, only to slit his own wrists before Spencer could get to him because he thought he was tainted.

He could see how it was easy in their job to get wrapped up in saving the day, in saving everyone they could. He just had hoped, on some stupid grace of a god he didn’t even believe in, that she would have at least remained untouched by the bad luck.

Spencer had always thought, since the first day he had arrived back into the office after his stint in prison, that she seemed to just waltz through life easier than anyone else. He knew the concept of luck was not quantifiable, that it was just a coincidence that good things happened to some people, and bad things happened to others. He always grouped himself in with the latter, because what was his entire life if not one bad hand of cards after another?

Part of him had been seething with vitriol jealousy when he first met her. He hated how the elevator doors seemed to open without hesitation for her, no waiting required. He hated how her hair never seemed to fall out of place, while his required primping and preening to upkeep. He hated how she was always so happy, whether it had been she’d been given an extra cookie at the bakery for free, or her coffee had just tasted super delicious that morning, or the road works clogging the city had been put on hold the one day she needed to drive into the office. She was one of those people, he had decided, that life just seemed to smile down upon, and she beamed back in that dazzling grin.

He felt sick to his stomach for ever wishing it gone, especially when she looked like she might never smile again.

They never liked to say that they had easy cases and hard ones, all of their cases were difficult to process. But this one had been a handful above the rest.

“UnSub has been killed on site, all units stand down,” Luke said into the radio, and the entire squadron took a sigh of relief, all of them except him.

Because he saw that look in her eye, the way everything sparkly about her seemed to have vanished.

They had been following Bobbie Wrids for a week. Five bodies in, five men shot between the eyes execution style, almost six by the time they’d arrived on the scene.

She’d gone with Tara around the front of the abandoned building; Penelope tracked their newest victim, Henry Frond, through his phone pinging off the nearest satellite towers, and it had been straight forward from there. Or at least it should have been.

Because by the time Spencer and Luke arrived in their own SUV, Penelope had time to access the rest of Henry’s phone, and it was clear to see the victimology behind all six men.

They were distributing snuff videos of women, some between themselves, some to other usernames on the darkweb, and Bobbie Wrids’ daughter had been one of them.

Bobbie had become somewhat of a vigilante, but he was a grieving father above all. He was a wounded animal chomping at the bit to soothe the ripping pain of his daughter's murder, the same one those men were getting off to.

Tara and her exchanged a glance as Penelope relayed the information over their headsets, her once serious expression falling into something sombre and sorrowful. How could she arrest a man she couldn’t help but feel sorry for, one she couldn’t help but think wasn’t entirely wrong in his actions.

“Bobbie Wrids,” Tara’s voice was stern, cutting through the silence of the desolate building. Their footsteps were careful as they made their way through the hallway, down to what had once been a rec-room, or perhaps a staff room, where they knew Bobbie had Henry, “This is the FBI, we’d like to talk,”

They heard nothing, and she looked up to the older woman hesitantly, her finger hovering over the trigger the way Spencer had taught her. Tara took a minute, knowing she was leading the charge here with the girl being so inexperienced, before she nodded to the door knob and the rookie twisted the handle, pushing the peeling wood open gently.

Bobbie Wrids stood in the centre of the room, moth eaten couches either side of the damp rug, the ceiling tiles half caved in from wear and tear. Henry Frond was already a pulp in the UnSub’s arms, and yet it was Bobbie that her eyes shot to first, sympathy shooting through every fibre of her being when she saw the distraught look on the father’s face.

He was grieving. He was grieving his little girl’s death. He was looking for a solution, and this seemed to be his best bet.

“Bobbie,” Her voice was shaky, her and Tara frozen in the doorway as the man brought the pistol to Henry’s beaten face, cocking it towards his temple before they could even explain themselves. “We’re going to come in, is that okay? We just want to talk, just let us talk-”

They had only edged closer by three paces between them as she was speaking before his knuckles turned white and he squeezed the gun tighter to Henry’s skin, the barrel contorting the flesh, “Don’t come any closer, this pig isn’t worth your mercy,”

“We know,” She said, her and Tara slowly stepping over a fallen ceiling tile, cracking under her boot as she met his desolate gaze for the first time, his head snapping to her. “We know what he did, Bobbie. What they all did.”

His throat bobbed, his bottom lip quivering and the sight of it, a man so broken, forced a frog into her oesophagus, and she willed herself not to cry.

“They hurt my little girl,” Bobbie choked out, his face turning mauve as the tears began to build behind his eyes, “She was my girl. She was only eighteen.”

She nodded, his wetted hues seemingly permissive when she stepped closer to where he held Henry hostage.

“I know, I’m so sorry for what happened to her,” She said, her voice croaky, unstable as she wrenched it into something audible, “I’m so sorry,”

“He doesn’t deserve mercy, none of them did,” Bobbie spat, his forearm crushing against Henry’s trachea in a vice-like grip. The man floundered, a wheeze coming from his lungs, not that she felt much sympathy for him.

She sprung into action, flicking her gun onto safety and holstering it, Tara doing the same as she lowered her weapon to her side. He profiled as a vigilante; he had no reason to hurt them.

“Bobbie, listen, I know they didn’t deserve to walk free, okay?” She said, taking the smallest step towards where the men stood, “But she wouldn’t want this for you, would she?”

The man flinched, his jaw hard as a rock with how he clenched his teeth together, as if holding back a sob.

“Come on, Bobbie. Let him go, we have enough evidence to get him sentenced. We can get you a plea deal, I know a good lawyer,” She begged, because she wasn’t beneath it, because she knew he was a good man backed into a corner, “Please,”

Maybe it was the way her eyes were soft when she looked at him, or the fact two more agents burst into the room from the hallway, Spencer’s eye immediately falling to where she was stood so close to their UnSub, her gun out of hand. Tara stood by, but that wasn’t good enough for him. He edged with light footsteps until he was behind her, his gaze cautious, never leaving the gun in Bobbie’s hand.

“Please,” She repeated, and Spencer saw Bobbie’s shoulders drop, every sliver of resolve draining from his body at her gentle tone, a deer approaching a hunter.

Henry was thrown to the floor, the man practically dead weight as he gasped, almost retching at the feeling of air sucking back into his chest frantically, and Luke and Tara were quick to wrestle him into cuffs, the woman reading him his Miranda rights.

Spencer almost made a grab for her then, because she was still creeping forward towards the man who had a loaded gun still live in his hand. He didn’t care for one second that the statistics said Bobbie wouldn’t lay a hand on her since she wasn’t part of his list. He didn’t care that every sign pointed to their UnSub being benevolent towards women, especially younger ones, that she fit his daughter’s description. Spencer didn’t care, he wanted her as far away from that gun as possible.

His heart lurched into his throat when Bobbie did in fact make a lunge for her, just not the way he’d feared. Because she had grabbed him. She’d pulled him into an embrace, a hug, kind and sweet as she always was.

Spencer cursed her for being so soft. It was going to get her killed.

“Agent,” His voice was terse, worried if you dug a little deeper than the sharp surface, but she didn’t listen to him. She held Bobbie tight as the man unravelled on her shoulder, falling into heart breaking sobs and it was then Spencer realised she was crying with him.

“It’s going to be okay, you’re okay,” She was shushing him, the killer, reassuring him he was safe, as if the killing thing wasn’t still between his fingers that clutched at her back with rough hands.

“They killed my girl, they took her from me, and then they laughed about it,” He wailed, and she nodded, squeezing him even tighter if that was so possible, “No one would listen, the police didn’t listen, I had to do something,”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” This was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be sympathising with the criminals. But she couldn’t help it, she couldn’t help the gasping urge to comfort the man who had lost his whole world, “I’m listening. Tell me about her,”

“She was so beautiful,” Bobbie whimpered, sniffling into her shoulder. Spencer felt his chest twinge at the scene. He hated that she was so soft. “She never hurt a soul,”

She cried with him, though hers were choked down as much as she could get them, her wet cheeks the only proof she had ever let them slip.

“I’m sorry,” She said again, because no matter how many times she repeated those two little words, it would never bring his daughter back, “I can help you,”

He pulled away from her shoulder, and it was only then that Bobbie Wrids even noticed Spencer, his face taut in anxiety as he watched the man’s hands still holding onto her body as if she was the only thing that kept him upright, which Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if it were true.

He fished the cuffs out of his back pocket, his finger never leaving the trigger as he stared down at their UnSub cautiously. He knew he may be being cruel, knew that ten years ago he would be just as caring as her. But that Spencer was long gone. And what remained was screaming in terror that she was in the line of danger, that she was holding the danger in her bare hands like she didn’t see the jeopardy she was putting herself in.

Bobbie pulled away to look at her, the creases around his eyes deep chasms, and even with the smattering of grey hair, the stubble, the cold, empty look of someone with nothing left, she thought he might have been a handsome man once. He looked at her with a ghost of a smile, and one of his callused hands came up to tuck her hair behind her ear as if it had been second nature to him for eighteen years.

“You’re a sweet girl,” He murmured, and she blinked at him, her chest easing at the way his wails had subsided into something quiet. She could help him, she swore she would help him. He was a good man beneath it all. “But no one can help me anymore, sweet girl,”

And with that he lifted the pistol beneath his chin and pulled the trigger.

—

She heard someone scream before she realised it was coming from her own throat, but her ears were ringing and she couldn’t open her eyes. Her face was wet and hot, and for a second she thought it was tears, but she was beyond crying now. She felt arms pulling her back into a strong chest, and someone was murmuring to her, or perhaps they were speaking normally and the sound of the gunshot had knocked her hearing. Either way, it was like someone had pulled a bag over her head as she brought her shaking hands up to her eyes to wipe.

She managed to crack her lids then when the sludge was gone, only to see the room still a blurry mess. She could make out, in the haze of blobs and crimson tint, Bobbie’s body slumped to the floor, a dark puddle seeping into the rug as those long arms tugged her out of the room. She only then looked down to her hands where she had rubbed her face and she caught the same claret plasma coating her fingers, her white shirt, her pants, her arms. It covered her head to toe.

It was in her eyes, she realised when she saw the ichor coating her fingertips. It was blocking her vision, turning the world a vivid wine colour, and she thinks she whimpered, or perhaps it was a moan of horror seeing the puddle beneath Bobbie’s body growing larger by the second.

“I don’t understand,” She said out loud, her head spinning, and she brought her fingertips up to her eyes again, maybe to get the blood out, god there was so much blood on her face, or maybe because she hoped to everything out there that she would clear her sight and find it all a terrible hallucination, the product of one too many nights of sleepless tossing.

But when she rubbed her lids again, this time seeing the scene a little better, Bobbie was still dead. She had still been too late.

“You’re in shock, you need to breathe,” A voice instructed her over her shoulder, and it was from the same person who had their hands around her waist, pulling her away from the crime scene, as CSI filed in from behind them.

She tried pushing the arms off her, weak because she couldn’t feel anything that wasn’t the horror in her stomach, and it took her a second before she listened to their words and realised she was holding a breath in her chest, the way a toddler does when they’re overwhelmed.

“I don’t-” She gasped, the air rushing through her lungs, so fast it made her cough, “I don’t understand, I was going to help him- I don’t understand- why?”

“I know, just breathe for me, sweetheart,” Spencer. She only just realised it was Spencer speaking, because he had never called her that and the gentle tone he’d taken was nothing like his usual, civil cadence. He had been dropping a few jokes the past few weeks since she’d driven him home, had been more touchy feely with correcting her form when she was at the shooting range, had delicately touched the small of her back when they were navigating a crowd together. He was slowly cracking from his statuesque expression that hadn’t left his face since he’d gotten out of prison, but the softness with which he held her waist was entirely new.

“Spencer, I don’t- I don’t get it,” She said, her voice bubbling into a sob as she allowed herself to be pulled away with no fight left in her. He took her into the hallway, turning her body from the sight of his hand lifeless on the floor with little to no effort. She was damn near limp in his arms, “Spencer, I don’t under-understand, I was going to h-help him, why would h-he do that-”

“Shhh, you need to breathe,” He murmured into her hair, trying to lead her out the front of the building and far away from where she’d just been front row seats to a messy suicide, “Come on, just breathe for me, baby, and then we can talk,”

But she wasn’t listening, and he wasn’t offended. Spencer knew it was the shock. He knew the symptoms by how her respiratory system had picked up in a matter of seconds and it was like she had gone from zero to a hundred. She let out a long whine, tears collecting the blood on her lash line and her chest seized into action, gulping down air, too short to do anything for her lungs, and her legs began to buckle beneath the two of them.

Spencer stopped in the hallway, realising she was in more shock than he must have thought. He knew she was sensitive, hell it was one of his favourite things about her. He knew she felt everything so deeply, burned too easily, like a daisy wilting in a dry heat, or candyfloss melting in his mouth. Spencer knew, as awful as watching death up close was for any agent, it would hit her hardest of all of them.

He moved around to her front, his hands migrating from her waist up to her shoulders, brushing over her upper arms soothingly. But her body felt numb, her head felt heavy, and her eyes were glazed over, down a rabbit hole entirely away from him, even when one of his hands cupped her wetted cheek gently.

“Just breathe, hey, look at me,” He tried a firmer tone, and she bent to his will too easily. It was a punch in the gut seeing everything shining and pretty leached out of her eyes, as if she had become soulless in a matter of minutes, as if she had lost all hope in the world the second Bobbie pulled that trigger. She looked like hell, blood still fresh on her cheeks, in her hair, smeared around her eye sockets where she had scrubbed so hard to get it off her skin, “You need to calm down, you’re going to faint if you don’t breathe,”

She nodded, or something close to it, her eyes falling down to the floor, and she seemed to wrestle for control over her chest then. But what came after was worse, Spencer thought. Her brows screwed together, her eyes welling up with more of those fat tears, and her lips dropping into a devastated pout, her eyes trailing over the mess on her uniform, on her hands.

“Spencer, I don’t understand, I tried to help him, I wanted to help him,” She sobbed, sniffling to herself miserably, and he barely even thought about it when he pulled her into his chest, not caring that her skin would dirty his shirt.

His hand wound into her hair, stroking her sweetly as she buried her wails into his vest. He used his other arm to pull her close to him, which she seemed to have zero qualms about as she clawed at his back to keep him close, as if she didn’t want to face what was going to happen when they left that building.

Spencer regretted ever thinking her sunshine was too bright for him.

–

She hadn’t smiled in a whole week. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had given Penny a very forced smile when she had fussed over the younger woman the first day she got back, had said thankyou with downcast eyes and a fragile grin when the blonde presented her with a framed picture of a puppy to keep on her desk ‘incase she needed something nice to think about,’

She hadn’t looked at it once, because they both knew it wouldn’t do anything, no matter how much she pretended for Penelope’s sake that she would put it to good use.

He had taken her out for coffee on him that first day, but by the time they had got to the front of the queue, he had been doing almost all of the talking, which had become rare nowadays since he had come home from Mexico. Usually, it had been her filling the silences, because he knew in her right mind she hated the sound of static nothingness, she found it awkward and unnecessary when she could talk to anyone without thinking about it too hard.

They had got to the desk, the barista smiling up at him as he ordered his usual, before he turned to look at her as the woman serving asked her what she would like. But she wasn’t listening, she was watching out the window, nothing particularly invigorating beside a bird cleaning its feathers on top of a stop sign.

He said her name, putting his hand on her back and her head whipped around, her eyes empty as they looked up at him expectantly, “What do you want to drink?”

She blinked, waking herself from a stupor, and looked at the barista with an embarrassed expression, “Hot chocolate, please,”

And that was all she really had to say until lunch rolled around, and she excused herself to head home early. Emily smiled at her reassuringly, her eyes wary as she watched their happy-go-lucky rookie head for the elevators with a desolate look in her eyes.

Spencer hoped she would come around on her own, or maybe even be brave enough to talk to someone about the thoughts rattling around that head of hers, but she just didn’t. She stayed as silent as possible, only ever speaking when spoken to, asking Emily if she could finish off her reports at home, to which the Prentiss woman never protested.

But Spencer had had enough. He’d worried himself sick over her, and where all thoughts of how endearing and lovely and charming she was had sat in his head before, now it was all just ways he could think to make her smile again.

It was the following Tuesday by the time he braved action. She had gone home after their midday briefing, apologising to Emily with tired eyes that seemed to be growing more and more heavy by the day, like she hadn’t slept a wink in a fortnight. Which Spencer thought was entirely possible.

He pulled up to the house Penelope had not so discreetly told him was hers, definitely not because he’d asked, and definitely, definitely not breaching any human resource policies about distributing fellow workers information (meaning Spencer had almost certainly not begged Penelope for the address with those puppy eyes of his he knew could bag him anything).

The peonies in the window bays were wilting but her house was something out of a fairytale. He wasn’t sure why he was really so surprised. It screamed her, everything about it, from the toadstool post box to the little green, cast iron bench that sat in the garden, the metal forged to look like florets of ivy holding the sitter upright.

He rapped the brass knocker, the metal cold under his long fingers. Brushing invisible dirt off his shirt, he hoped she would answer as the present squirmed at his feet.

“Just a second,” He hushed, and as if she heard him, the front door swung open to reveal her bare face he hadn’t seen since he’d helped her wipe the blood from her skin in the back of the ambulance.

She looked at him with furrowed brows, before they quickly shot to the floor, to her cobbled pathway that had clicked under his shoes, and her face washed with a shock.

“Oh my god, Spencer!” She crouched to her knees, a slobbery lick immediately meeting her cheek as the Spaniel rubbed his wet nose up to her ear, sniffing her unique smell, as if it was a bag of Class A’s, “I never knew you had a dog,”

“I don’t,” He replied, kneeling with her to ruffle the soft fur behind the canine’s ear, “This is Ace. He retired from the Bomb Unit a month ago and Penelope sent me his handler’s number. They said he’s the happiest dog in the world,”

“I would be too if I stopped so many people from blowing up,” She said, but before he could ask what she meant exactly by that, Ace had jumped up and attacked her entire face with kisses as if he too thought that statement was worth silencing.

And she laughed. She laughed louder than she had in days, weeks, her eyes crinkling in joy as the little pink tongue stole away her sorrow, tickled away the traces of the blood that had tainted her skin.

Spencer smiled, his eyes watching her face scrunch in a squeal, hands eventually coming up to the elderly dog’s jowls to gently push him down.

“Oh, you are the sweetest guy,” She said, and the words had him tugging at the leash to lick her all over again, “Yes you are, you’re the sweetest little guy around, huh?”

She chuckled, scratching down the mutt’s neck, and her eyes flicked back up to Spencer, who watched her with more intent than she’d realised.

“Petting and receiving affection from pets causes spikes in serotonin in our brain and reduces anxiety, did you know that?” Spencer said, Ace pushing his muzzle into the palm of her hand to prove a point.

Her smile wavered slightly, and she looked at his hazel hues that seemed to see right through her, “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been so off lately, I just can’t sleep at the moment-”

“Don’t apologise,” He cut in, though his tone was kind, and the two of them stood back up to their full height, “What happened was horrifying, even some of the longest serving agents I know would struggle seeing that,”

She scoffed, unusually pessimistic coming out of her mouth, “You wouldn’t,”

His head tilted, not quite understanding what she meant, because she hadn’t sounded cruel when she said it. Then again, he didn’t think she was actually capable of that emotion.

She looked at him, a flash of something vulnerable in her eyes, something like that day he’d held her in the hallway; too fast he almost missed it.

“You’re so brave, Spencer, you’re like invincible. I mean, you survived prison and your mom getting kidnapped and you bounced straight back to work like it was nothing. I can’t even watch a murderer die without spiralling out of control,” She huffed, rubbing the bridge of her nose and before he could respond on just how wrong she was, before he could tell her that that was exactly the opposite of what had happened because he had damn near changed every inch of himself in prison to stop himself from breaking, he caught her murmuring and he thought he might just have been punched all over again, “I wish I was like you,”

His jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he stepped towards her, and her head shot to him, worried she may have said the wrong thing by mentioning everything that had happened, everything Pen had specifically said was a touchy subject, and she opened her mouth to apologise.

“Do you know how unbelievably glad I am that you are nothing like me?” Spencer said, his voice bordering on furious and her fumbled for a reply, worried she had truly pissed him off.

She wouldn’t blame him for hating her. She’d always worried, until perhaps that day they’d gotten into her car and she’d driven him home, that her very essence annoyed him.

“I’m sorry-” She started, but he shook his head.

“Stop apologising,” He said, his hand reaching up to grab where her fingers tugged together nervously, his hold featherlike, his face softening when he saw her expression, “I don’t want you to be anything like me. I like you just how you are,”

She sighed, eyes doe like with emotion as she looked at him, “Really?”

He smiled, a rare and genuine smile as she seemed to glow under his words, “Yes, really.” Spencer allowed himself to enjoy the way that the twinkle returned to her expression when he smiled at her with something almost like the old Spencer in him, before he cleared his throat, “We all like you. Everyone on the team likes how you are,”

She paused, nodding to herself as if knocking herself out of a silly daze, and Ace bounced on his hind legs trying to get her attention again.

“You don’t think I’m too sensitive?” She asked, holding her palm out for the dog to nuzzle at with that wet nose of his.

Spencer shook his head, “Sensitive is good. It means you feel something. Means you feel the good things deeper too,”

Her smile was blinding, because she’d never thought of it that way before, and she looked like her old self again. Spencer wasn’t stupid enough to think she was never going to think about Bobbie again, he still thought about that first UnSub he’d tried to save. He still thought about Tobias Hankel. He thought about them all.

But he was going to make sure she never turned into him. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself if she did. He’d protect her sunlight even if it burned him to know he could never have her the way he wanted. Because she was everything good, and he was him.

She looked down at Ace, the life returning to her as she stood aside for the two of them to enter her house, “Tea?”

Yep. Spencer felt something run hot knowing she would always be out of reach. Didn’t stop him from thinking about it, though.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #Post Prison!Spencer Reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #matthew grey gubler x reader

980 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 2 days

Note

have a bonfire - send a character + a trope (one bed, fake dating, etc.) and I’ll write a drabble

AHHHHH CONGRATS CONGRATS CONGRATS

how about like secret royalty, like very princess diaries-esque, with sirius???? he's basically royalty anyway, so either him or reader suddenly entering his world would be so cute

Thanks lovely <3

prince!Sirius x princess!reader ♡ 1.2k words

With the early arrival of the visiting king, the uproar the palace (You’re actually not sure what you’re supposed to call this place. Castle? Mansion? Home? (You really hope you’re not supposed to call it home, that seems awfully quick.)) has been in since your arrival triples in severity. Your grandmother completely disappears, the nice older man who’s been showing you around goes with her, and when no one wants to take on the problem of the new and completely untrained princess, you’re shooed into the nearest sitting room to wait things out.

“Well, this has to have been a mistake.”

You give a start, turning in place to find a young man stretched out like a cat on a settee by the window. He has longish, dark hair that spills like ink over the green upholstery and cunning eyes that are narrowed curiously on you despite his disinterested countenance.

“Or I suppose maybe your team’s just stashed you here the same way my father’s stashed me,” he says, and the voice that emerges from that small, pretty mouth is just as smooth he looks like it would be, self-assured and infused with an accent that speaks to a privileged upbringing. “I don’t imagine they’d like knowing their new pet is cavorting with her equals so early on.” An untrustworthy smile curves his lips. “Could be fun. Should we ring for food?”

You have half a dozen questions, but what makes it out is, “Pet?”

The boy tilts his head, giving you a knowing look. “You’re an unhousebroken puppy, sweetheart.” His eyes dip to the dress they’d put you in this morning, skimming their way back up to your face and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “A very pretty one, but as far as royals are concerned, an embarrassment. From what I hear, that’s hardly your fault, though.”

You sit a cautious distance away from him, on a parallel couch. The afternoon sunlight spills over the top of his settee and hits your eyes, but you bear it rather than move.

A week ago, a couple of days even, you wouldn’t have been able to make eye contact with someone like this. But though this boy is prettier and speaks more brashly than nearly anyone you’ve come across, you’ve grown remarkably used to novelty since being sat down in front of relatives you didn’t know to be told that you were heir to a country you’d never heard of. One upside to the chaos of the last few days is, you suppose, it might be making you braver.

“Who are you?” you ask.

“Oh, my god.” He smiles, seemingly delighted. “You really are brand new, aren’t you? I’m not trying to sound arrogant,” he says at your flustered look, “it’s just we’re usually trained to know important people before we ever meet them. It’s not every day I come upon someone who actually has no idea who I am.”

A little laugh trips off your tongue. You tell him, “You’re not making your not-arrogant point very well.”

“Well, I never said I wasn’t arrogant.” That dastardly grin again, slicing across his face like a weapon. “I said I didn’t want to sound arrogant. I’ve been told it doesn’t make a very polite first impression.” He stands, graceful limbs unfurling, and starts for the door. “I’m Sirius. Are you hungry?”

You nod dazedly as he crosses the room, and it’s only then that you realize he’s wearing a suit. Or, parts of one. The jacket and tie have been cast off, hung over the arm of the settee, but he’s still wearing the pants (thank god) and a dress shirt that appears blue in the light but otherwise is so dark it might be black.

Sirius opens the door, murmuring to someone outside. When he’s done, he heads for you instead of the settee. Kicks his shoes off and settles in across from you, legs crossed underneath him like you’re at a sleepover. You decide to follow suit, turning to face him and trusting the length of your dress to protect you from scandal as you tent your knees in front of you.

“That’s better,” Sirius says, and his eyes look different with the light cutting across them. Before, they’d been in shadow, but now they’re the color of heavy clouds, a faint bluish hue brought out by his dress shirt. “You looked stunning with the light on your face, but you’re even lovelier when you’re not squinting. I asked for someone to bring us chicken nuggets, is that alright? You’re not vegetarian, are you?”

You’re surprised at the choice, but that quickly gives way to relief. You feel a smile tugging at your lips at the banal normalcy of it. After the five-course dinner you’d had the night before that had tormented your unrefined stomach for hours afterwards, chicken nuggets sound like a dream.

“That’s good,” you reply, and Sirius returns your smile with feeling. “Who were you talking to out there?”

“A member of my detail is just outside the door,” he explains airily, as if security details are something everyone has and talks about on a routine basis. Your astonishment must show on your face, because he raises a slender eyebrow. “You don’t have one? I suppose not every kingdom does. Or, if you haven’t left the palace, you might not have met yours yet.”

“You said your name was Sirius.”

“I did.”

“But you didn’t say your last name.”

Sirius’ lips twist wryly. “I did not.”

Maybe it’s his own audacious manner, but you feel like you can be straightforward with him. “Why not?”

He shrugs and lists sideways, leaning his shoulder against the back of the couch. “Maybe I’m still enjoying the novelty of you. I don’t often get to talk to people without all the genteel manners and button-up-ed-ness.”

You tilt your head. “You’re one of the Black family, aren’t you?”

Sirius nods, looking unsurprised you’ve figured it out. It’s obvious he’s royal, so it really wasn’t that far a leap. He doesn’t look like any of the family you’ve met so far, and the only other royals are the ones visiting.

“So does that make you the king’s son?”

“There are two of us, actually.” He mirrors you, tilting his head so it’s resting against the couch. “But I’m the oldest, so I get to go on all the fun trips.”

You feel your lips twist again. “Yeah, you seem like you’re having a blast.”

“Oh, let there be no misunderstanding, doll.” He straightens, looking you in the eye. It feels like being under a spotlight, and it’s all you can do not to look away. Sirius grins. “This is my fun face. I’m having a far better time with you than I have at any of these things in years.”

“Oh.” You can’t help it now, and your gaze flees down to the skirt of your dress. You take a bit of the fabric between your fingers, distracting yourself with the extraordinary silkiness of it. “Well, happy to help. Maybe while your family is here our paths will cross again.”

You look up, and his expression has softened into something nearing genuine. “I’ll be sure that they do,” he says.

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sykostyles · 3 days

Text

melodies | 1.2

summary: he's the most powerful & ruthless mafia boss in the city, and she's just a music store owner. but once he hears her singing voice, he wants nothing more than to hear it for the rest of his life..and she's not so sure about that.. he'll do anything to change that. wc: 3.1k

warnings: swearing, harry being insufferable, suggestive content

a/n: hello loves! I am still on vacation but I was able to spend a little time editing this chapter of melodies to get it posted for you! I hope you all enjoy! here comes the DRAMA!!

The box. The infamous box. Its contents?

“Styles, wha–,” you’re speechless. How did he do it? Where did he? “--Is that what i think it is?”

“That depends,” he starts, a shit eating grin on his face, “do you think it’s a custom, handmade replica of the diamond and ruby necklace Julia Roberts wore in Pretty Woman?” He looks at you deviously, “Because that’s what it is.” You just stare at him in shock. “Oh, and it’s all yours.”

“Harry,” you breathe; your voice full of disbelief and amazement.

“You–,” he smiles, “You just called me Harry.” He’s beaming. His whiter than white smile is on full display; pearly whites shining bright enough to blind. He’s happy. Ecstatic.

“You deserved it,” you place a quick kiss on his cheek, leaving a blush on his skin in your wake. “Would you help me put it on, please?”

“I would be honored,” he takes the necklace from the box. He hooks it together before placing a featherlight kiss where your neck and shoulder meet. The contact makes you shiver with anticipation. “Fits in like it was made just for you,” he smiles against your skin, his hands finding your hips, pulling you back into him as he speaks.

Turning in his hold, you place a kiss on his lips. “Thank you, Sty–Harry. It’s beautiful,”

“You make it beautiful,” he comments, giving you another kiss before he opens your car door. Harry helps you in, holding your hand as you sit down, minding the train on your dress.

“So, where are we going all dressed up?” you ask, as he takes his seat in the car.

“Ah, that would spoil the other surprise,” he grins from the driver's seat, one hand on the steering wheel and the other is planted on your thigh.

You huff in response.

“Alright, brat,” he laughs, “It’s a business dinner, and some.. Live entertainment to follow.”

“Styles..”

“What happened to Harry?”

“Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”

“Depends,” he chuckles.

“Am I getting my Pretty Woman moment?” The hopeful glint in your voice makes him feel a sense of pride.

“For the record, you don’t need the dress and the whole shebang to have a Pretty Woman moment,” he looks over to you, your excited eyes look back in awe of the man next to you. He really is determined to give you everything you want in order to make you his. The amount of thought he’s put into everything really shows you how much he listens to everything you say, and it makes you feel things you can’t explain.

“You're in love with him, stupid,” Ellie's voice rings in your head. Shut. Up.

“You don't need all these sweet words and grand gestures to get what you want out of me either,” you say, placing your hand atop his on your thigh.

“I know, but I thoroughly enjoy seeing that smile of yours.”

Arriving at the dinner, Harry opens your door as you’re met with flashing cameras. He’d warned you that there would be paparazzi here but you weren’t anticipating this level of insanity. But you probably should have, knowing Harry’s status.

He stops for a few photos, requesting you stand with him for all of them. Harry didn’t want you out of his sight. The paps shout questions of your identity, where you met, how long you’d been together, if you were pregnant, that one made you laugh, you had to admit. But the attention being on you was never what you wanted. It's why you never pursued the stage. It didn’t comfort you like it did your mother. The stage terrified you.

Making your way inside, there’s a sea of people dressed to the nines as they make pointless conversation amongst themselves. They all seem super interested in each other but you know better. Harry had warned you ahead of time that these people don’t actually care about anything going on, it’s all for show. Who can donate the most money while keeping up appearances. Tonight was about the benefit of the city, meaning whoever donated the most money basically had the mayor at their mercy. Harry had been the highest donor for the last decade. Not to say others hadn’t attempted to take the spot from him. But he could always handle it. Tonight was about celebrating Harry. Most people were unhappy with a Yakuza having the upper hand in the city, but knowing if they said anything the funding would immediately stop.

“Harry,” you mutter, eyes roaming the room before you.

“Hm?” his eyes follow yours, immediately understanding your apprehensive state.

“This is.. A lot of people.” your fingers clutch the sleeve of his jacket, holding his arm as close as possible.

“I’m here with you, Birdie,” he whispers in your ear, placing a soft kiss on the shell. “Just focus on me, yeah?”

You nod once, not letting up on your grip on his jacket as he led you further into the room, heading for your reserved table. Harry pulls your chair out, then takes his seat next to you.

A little into the evening, a tall man with blonde hair approaches your table, a curt smile on his face as he speaks.

“Evening, Harry. Who is this lovely specimen?” He asks.

“Jones,” He grumbles in response. “This is Y/N.”

Harry offers the man no other explanation in return. You can feel the shift in the air. So this was Jones. He’d left before you’d arrived the last time his name was mentioned. He’d intrigued you for sure, not many people could sour Harry’s mood that easily just by being present.

“Hello, sir, lovely to meet you,” you extend a gloved hand to the man standing near the table, “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N what a lovely name, I’m Scott Jones,” he takes your hand in his, offering you a kiss on the back of your hand. “Tell me, just what is a beauty like you doing with a man like Harry?”

“She likes being with...the strongest,” Harry answers for you, standing from his seat. “Now if you’ll excuse us,” he holds his hand out for you to grab, “Dance with me?” he asks, diverting his full attention to you.

“Of course,” in your typical fashion, you still address Jones as you’re pulled away. “It was nice meeting you,” you say, offering him a sweet smile; a silent apology. Harry leads you to the dancefloor, placing the palm of one hand into the small of your back while holding the other one up for you to grab. lacing your fingers together, he begins to sway.

Harry spreads his fingers out across the surface of your lower back; each touch leaving a trail of heat.

“So that was Jones?”

“Mhm,” he hums. “He has some nerve..”

“Hey,” you reach up, tilting his gaze down to you, “Just focus on me, yeah?” you mirror his earlier words back to him. His smile grows, but his worry does as well. Now Nanami knows Harry has a weakness, and that weaknesses name. But he knows he can protect you. As much as you’ll let him anyway.

“How could I focus on anything else?” his gaze bores into yours, a sense of total adoration washes over you as you look into those crystalline emerald eyes. You could see the whole future in them. Tables adorned with navy, black and gold. Roses fill your hands as you’re led down a petal covered aisle, looking ahead to Harry at the end. I do’s and kisses are swapped. Hands exploring dips and curves. Slow, languid movements filling you to the brim. Sweet nothings whispered against sweat slicked skin. Small patters of tiny feet across tile floors. Those tiny feet carrying a matching tuft of chestnut hair, green eyes and a bundle of giggles as bigger feet follow behind..

“Birdie? Did I lose you?” Harry chuckles, his voice snapping you back to reality.

“Hm? Oh! Sorry. I got stuck,” you mutter, letting go of his cheek. The thoughts are still burning in the back of your mind. Every thought seemed so real. Like it was a memory instead of a daydream.

“What were you thinking about?” he asks, anticipating some sort of panicked response.

“Just..doing this,” leaves you in a whisper. You place your lips over his in a soft kiss; your hands find their way back up to cup his jaw, making him smile against your mouth. He hums in approval, his hands attempting to pull you as close to him as possible.

“I think you’re trying to seduce me in front of all of these people,” Harry teases you as he pulls away. Your cheeks turn a soft pink at his words. “If you wanna go somewhere more private just let me know.”

“Stop it,” you whisper, taking back in the amount of people surrounding you. It feels as if every pair of eyes were following your every move. One pair of eyes was following your every move, and it wasn’t Harry’s.

Jones stood in the corner with his men as he watched, and waited.

Harry led you back to the table as the dining portion of the evening was about to commence. A full meal entailing all of Harry’s favorites, which had somehow turned into your favorites too. The night had been wonderful so far; the conversation flowed so freely it was as if you and Harry had been together forever.

“Harry,” place your hand on his thigh, leaning closer to him.

“I’ll never tire of hearing you say that,” Harry says, turning to give you his attention.

“Think I’m ready,” you whisper, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you look up at him.

“Ready..?”

“Mhm. For this,” you motion between the two of you, “Us.”

You watch as his eyes get even brighter than they were. He looks to you for real confirmation. The smile plastered on your face was the answer he needed, and so he kisses you. “You’ve just made my entire life,” he groans before he kisses you again.

“Remember we’re not alone here,” you giggle as you pull away.

“Ask me if i care,” he tries chasing your lips with his, “You didn’t seem to care when we were at the beach yesterday.”

“We were in a somewhat secluded cabana, not an open table at the front of a great hall with hundreds of people watching, Harry.”

“Ugh, I already know I’m gonna love when you say my name when you're mad.”

“You’re already so insufferable,” you huff, turning away from him.

“Oh, don’t be like that.” He reaches to turn your chair back towards him, caging you in with his arms. “Tell me you’re mine,” he whispers, eyes locked on to yours.

“I–I’m yours,” you whisper back, staring back into his eyes as he searches yours for any sign of apprehension.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you lean forward, sealing the deal with a kiss once again.

A voice booms throughout the space, startling you enough to pull away from the man before you. Harry readjusts, as he pays attention to the announcer behind him.

“Good evening folks, thank you all for attending as we celebrate the continued support from our guest of honor, Mr. Harry Styles.”

Applause follows. Your eyes scan the room, finding Jones staring right back at you from his spot on the edge of the room. You offer him another sweet smile before overting your attention back to the man at the front of the room.

“Harry, come on up here,” the man speaks into the microphone.

“I’ll be right back,” Harry assures you, offering you a quick kiss before taking his stand at the front of the room.

“Evening everybody. I’m thrilled to be back here for another year. Even more so this year,” he looks over to you. “Someone very special to me came with me this time, and I intend to make her my wife one day.”

The room fills with ooh’s and aww’s as Harry pauses. “So, we all owe everything to her tonight, for making me the happiest man in the world. So if you would all join me in raising your glasses,” he starts, leaning down to grab his glass from your hold.

“What are you doing?” you whisper-yell at him. He just offers you his devious smile in return.

“To my lovely Birdie, thank you for attending with me, and for making me incredibly ecstatic tonight by agreeing to finally be mine,” he raises his glass a little higher. “To Birdie,”

“To Birdie,” the crowd rumbles behind you. An anxious smile spreads across your lips as you turn to see everyone staring at you. You stand, albeit reluctantly, and politely bow with a smile. The other tables erupt in applause, as Harry pulls you to join him on the stage, his arm snaking around your waist. “We hope you enjoy the live entertainment in the concert hall for the evening, once you’re finished dining. The proceeds from tonight will be donated to the children's hospital. Have a great night, everybody.”

More applause fills the space as you exit the stage with Harry, his hand firmly holding yours.

“What was that?” you ask through gritted teeth as you smile.

“Staking my claim, and also showing my appreciation for my lovely lady,” he smirks at you as you take your seats again at the table.

“I would appreciate not being the center of attention,” you huff, slapping his hand away from your thigh under the table.

“Now now, Birdie. You have been the center of attention all evening,” he slides his hand back up your thigh as he leans down near your ear. “I’ve just been too distracting for you to notice.”

“You are quite distracting.”

“So, should we go somewhere more private?”

“Mm, no. I want to see this live entertainment,” you remove his hand from your thigh again, taking a stand from your chair. Harry stands with you, offering you his arm to grab as he leads you to the concert hall.

The live performer just so happened to be Rod Stewart. How that happened, Harry swears he doesn’t know. But the devious glint in his eyes says otherwise.

He’s performing all of your favorites. The ones you’d sing with grandfather in the car on the way to the next city. And the ones Harry likes you hear you sing along with.

“Thank you,” you whisper against his lips after kissing him.

“Anything for my lady.”

Harry sits next to you, an arm around your waist as he studies you watching the performance below. He knows you wish you were able to do that like your mother did, but he also knows the thought of it terrifies you. He’ll make it his mission to help you face your fears if that's what you wanted from him. But if you’re okay with being on the sidelines as well, he’ll help you with that too. Anything you want, he’ll make it happen. He thinks tonight is the prime example of that.

After the performance, Harry leads you to the car. Opting for Niall to drive this time, he takes his seat next to you in the back.

“Did you enjoy the evening? Was it, quote unquote, fun enough for you?”

“Oh, god Harry, that was amazing. I’ve never enjoyed myself more.”

“I don't think I’ll ever tire of hearing you call me that,”

“Yeah?” you ask, sliding closer to him.

“Yeah.” he breathes out, cupping your cheek and kissing you softly. He smiles into the kiss so you push your tongue into his mouth, taking him by surprise. Harry lets you have your fun for a moment before he reminds you who's in charge. He reaches to his left, pressing a button on the door to close the window between the front and back seat. Gripping your waist, you’re brought onto his lap, knees on either side of his legs. The kiss deepens, your arms finding their way around his neck as his hands explore the expanse of your back.

“Harry,” you whisper in his ear. You move your hands to tangle into his hair, earring a soft moan from his throat.

“Please, keep going,” he mutters, readjusting himself beneath you. His hands planted firmly on your hips.

“Harry,” you bite down onto his earlobe. “Harry,” you kiss just beneath his ear. Tilting his head to your will, every which way leaving your featherlight kisses along his throat, up and down the surface, whispering his name before every kiss. His breathing feels labored under your touch; his skin ablaze.

“Birdie,” he groans.

“Hm?” You hum, going back to kissing along his throat.

“As much as I would love for this to continue, we’re at your apartment.”

That damn saying again.

“Come upstairs with me,” you kiss his lips.

“I have a meeting first thing in the morning, otherwise I would,” he kisses you back. “How about you come to mine? Spend the night?”

“What are we gonna do?” you ask with the most innocent looking eyes you can manage.

“What do you think?” he teases, chasing your lips with his.

“Can I meet you there? So can I go to Encore in the morning?”

“Of course. I’ll leave Mitch here with you,” Harry reaches for his phone.

“No need. I’ll be right behind you once I change. Promise,” you kiss the tip of his nose, climbing off of his lap.

Harry exits the car, rounding to your side and opens your door for you. Helping you from the car, the man before you kisses you passionately, pulling your front against his, leaning into your touch.

“Harry,” you whisper, pulling away from him.

“Fuck, Biridie. Don’t you see what you do to me?”

“Mm, I could feel it too, big guy.” you tease him, smoothing down the front of your dress. “I’ll meet you at your place.”

“Okay,” he smiles down at you, offering you one more goodbye kiss.

“Keep my seat warm,” you wink at him before disappearing up the stairs of your apartment building.

Harry’s trip home felt longer without you. He was counting down the minutes until he got to touch you again. Waiting for the moment you walked through the door to devour you.

“Sir, we have some..news.” Mitch’s voice makes Harry turn towards the entrance of the living room.

“What is it, Mitch? Has Y/N arrived?” he asks, standing from his seat.

“No, sir, it’s about Encore,” the double bunned man says flatly.

“What about Encore? Was there a break in?”

“No, Sir. it’s on fire.”

“What do you–where is Y/N?” Harry asks, panicked.

“We–We can’t locate her, sir.”

taglist: @freedomfireflies @harrysonlylover @daydreamingofmatilda @triski73 @evie-119

@vamprry @howling-wolf97 @angeldavis777

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry Edward styles #harry Edward style #harry fluff #harry smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry #styles

194 notes · View notes

themultifanshipper · 3 days

Text

Lando was up on the top step of the podium, lifting the 1st place trophy for the first time.

You were fuming.

≈ 2k (oops)

Not that you weren't happy for him. You were basically joined at the hip, sometimes quite literally.

Neither of you wanted a relationship, too much of a hassle especially between two drivers, and that was fine, the friendship was as strong as ever and the sex was great! Who could ask for more?

So when he won, you watched Max and Charles almost waterboarding him on the podium, and the first thing you felt was unsurmountable pride and... joy... and-

and then the dread set in.

See, a couple of weeks before, at a party, Lando had made an offhand comment about him obviously winning a gp before you. He was just teasing but it still made your blood boil. So you made a bet to settle it. You genuinely didn't think Lando would be winning anything in 2024 so you bet that whoever won a race first, the other would get a tattoo in their honour.

Which was fine.

Except needles reaaally weren't your thing. You'd always wanted a few tattoos but never had the guts to go through with it.

Except it was a tattoo of your friend/rival/fuckbuddy/coworker.

Except now you didn't have a choice.

The reality of it started to set in at the club that night with Lando and Oscar. He hadn't mentioned the bet so far so you assumed he'd forgotten, but a bet is a bet, and out of principle you always honour your word.

So at the end of the night, when you were all well on your way to alcohol poisonning, you all said goodbye and went your seperate ways. But instead of going to bed you decided to look up tattoo parlours.

Turns out they are not hard to find in Miami.

So you did it, the alcohol dimming the pain as a small 'LN4' sat just next to your hip bone.

You forgot about it the next morning, barely remembering anything from last night at all. It's only when you had a shower the next day and passed naked in front of the mirror, that you froze and stared at it for like 20 minutes.

Oh god. You were pretty sure when you made the bet the tattoo was supposed to be like, on your arm or something, not... not that close to your private bits. Oh well.

Lando, as it turns out, had not stopped thinking about it. He didn't want to bring it up because he knew you were scared of needles and didn't want to pressure you. But ever since that bet he couldn't stop imagining you with his name inked into your skin and he was determined to see it happen. And well, as luck would have it he won the week after the bet, in Miami. It was fate.

But it went unmentioned for the whole week after Miami.

Two weeks after Miami, the week leading up to Imola, a few drivers (mainly the Monaco dwellers) decided to have a day at the beach. So you rang Lando to see if he wanted to have a sleepover, but weirdy he didn't seem to be in the mood, so you stuck to your own appartment for the night, only going the next day to pick him up.

You almost forgot that you hadn't told Lando about the tattoo until you were putting your bikini on. Incidentally it was bright orange. After all, orange is a great colour! It compliments every single skin tone. No wonder all the Mclaren employees look good.

As you ate breakfast in his kitchen you almost called out for Lando to tell him about it but he was in the shower. So you just waited for him to get ready, before swinging by Max's appartment so you could all go down together.

The others were already down there playing a probably unlawful version of volleyball and you really couldn't be bothered. So as Lando and Max joined them, you looked for the inevitable pile of bags and stuff, which was next to an empty lounge chair. Perfect. You put your towel on it, took you clothes off, and lay down in the sun.

Oscar arrived a little while later and put his bag next to yours, getting a water bottle out to drink from it. You were too comfortable to get up to hug him so you held out your fist for a fist bump.

"You know it's really not subtle." He said, eyeing your body as he drank. "I mean the orange looks fucking good, don't get me wrong but it- "

He stopped dead, wide eyes looking straight at your hip.

"But it what, Osc?"

He squinted at you "Is that what I think it is?"

"I don't know" you said coyly "why don't you take a closer look and check"

He leaned closer to you, mouth agape, hand gently going to hold your hip, thumb underling the tattoo.

He looked at you "Does he know? Has he seen it?"

"Nope" You smirked "Not yet"

He pulled back and stood up again, eyebrows dissappearing up his hairline. "Well, he's gonna lose his shit"

You only laughed in response as he turned and ran off to greet the others. Oh I know.

You both spent hours waiting. And I mean literal hours. You even went to join them splashing about in the water when they started climbing on each other's shoulders and pushing each other off like children. You were on Max's shoulders, trying and failing to push Charles off his perch and Lando was just watching. And he still hadn't noticed. He was either too oblivious or too respectful to look at your body. You and Oscar kept sending each other exasperated looks. Which he obviously didn't pick up on either.

So you gave up for the time being and decided to go back to your chair to get some more sun. Then it hit you.

You sat down, getting a container and your sunglasses out of your bag, and yelled towards the man "Lando! Come help me put my lotion on!"

You were lying on your front so you asked him to start with your back and the back of your legs, his hands going a little higher than necessary, slowly squeezing your butt and smacking it gently to watch it wobble.

He ran over immediately. So predictable. This had to work.

You could help but laugh. "You're a child! Okay let me turn over so you can do my front"

You turned and he sat down between your legs, your thighs draped over his on each side of the lounger. He squirted some cream on his hands and rubbed them together as he looked at your covered breasts and slipped his hands under the flimsy fabric, humming softly to himself. You closed your eyes and sighed, his large hands feeling incredible, massaging your skin.

You felt his hands go lower and lower until they suddenly froze, quiet gasp falling from his lips.

You struggled to keep a straight face, keeping your eyes closed behind your sunglasses. You asked innocently "What's wrong Lan?"

He didn't answer. The silence streched on. And on. Until you started to get a bit unsure of yourself so you opened your eyes.

The look on his face was indescribable. His mouth was agape, not unlike Oscar earlier, but all you saw on Lando from this angle was shock. He just stared, you could see the gears turning. It's a few seconds later, when he finally looked up at you that you also saw the hunger in his eyes. You almost moaned from the look alone. In the years of knowing him, and the short time you'd been fucking him, you'd never seen him look so intense. Like he actually wanted to eat you.

"Lando..." Your voice came out shaky "Are you okay? Do you-" You gulped "Do you like it?" You tried for a smile but it was unconvincing.

Eyes back on the tattoo, he slowly opened his mouth to say something but nothing would come out. You'd rendered Lando Norris completely speechless.

He leaned back a bit taking more of your body in as his right hand came to rest over your pubic bone. His thumb stroked gently over the fabric that only barely covered you. You were already on fire and the barely there pressure on your clit was torture.

"Lando, please say something" your voice was shaking.

His eyes went back to yours for a second before going back to the tattoo and increased the pressure on your clit.

You gasped and glanced around, the beach had become deserted as the sun was making it's way down the horizon, and the drivers seemed to have been swept further down the beach and were sitting around chatting. That's odd, why were they so far away? They should have come back by n-

You had a sudden thought. Oscar.

Thank fuck for Oscar Piastri.

The feeling of Lando's fingers sliding into you brought you back to the present and the searing heat between your legs. His right hand was still settled on you, applying a bit of pressure and thumb still rubbing your now exposed clit while the other hand pumped in and out of you, bikini lazily pushed to the side. He'd gone straight from one finger to three, not letting you adjust, and the stretch was delicious.

You couldn't help but notice he was still staring intently at his initials on your hip.

Just as you felt like you were going to start unraveling, he withrew his fingers and untied his shorts to pull his cock out. He was already leaking heavily, and he was panting as he finally got a hand around himself and started rubbing his tip along your folds. Still staring at the tattoo.

A second later he pushed inside without warning and you both moaned loud.

Thank god for Oscar Piastri, you though again as Lando started fucking into you at a brutal pace, hips and thighs slapping against yours. You were on cloud nine as his hand slithered up to hold your throat, not pressing for once, just holding you down, making sure you couldn't move as he had his way with you, as he took exactly what he wanted. You looked at him and he was still staring at that damn tattoo.

What had you done? You'd created a fucking monster.

He was railing you in public, while his friends were like 100 meters away. Fuck, the thought of that shouldn't have been as hot as it was.

As you were about to attempt speech again (which would probably have been futile anyway) he opened his mouth, and instead of finally breaking the silence, he let a line of spit land on your clit, dripping down onto his dick making the slide all the more pleasurable and the sight of it sending you into a delirious state.

Fuck, he'd never done that before. He then, the absolute madman, spat again, right on the tattoo.

You moaned and clenched around him, already impossibly close. He finally spoke for the first time when he growled out, voice raspy from disuse,

"Come on my fucking cock, now "

Your vision blacked out as you came harder than you ever had in your life. Clenching hard around him, but he wasn't deterred in the slightest as he just kept going, still refusing to look at you. You had barely recovered before another orgasm came creeping up on you. And the determined look on his face is what made you come for the second time, legs shaking around him.

You whimpered, oversensitive, when he carried on, undeterred by your orgasms, thumb spreading his spit over his initials, gazing at them longingly.

You had a feeling you knew where this was going.

He finally pulled out, hand working furiously over his cock as he finally came in spurts over your pussy, your stomach, covered your tattoo, and let out an uncharacteristically high pitched moan.

And during normal sex, you would have laughed at it, had it not been for the sight in front of you. Lando's spent cock sitting in a pool of his seed on top of his inked out initials. Panting hard. You looked at him and realised with a start that he was finally looking at you.

You both stared at each other for a moment, while he tried to catch his breath.

"Who do you belong to?"

You didn't even think before answering "You, Lando."

"Fuck, yeah, okay" he moaned, and hesitated as he glanced down, seemingly having only just noticed your orange bikini.

He took a gamble, eyes darting rapidly from your face to the fabric and back again, then rushed out an "I love you" before crashing your lips together. He didn't want to let go, scared of your answer, so you just put your arms around him and squeezed as hard as you could, to convey that the feeling was mutual.

Once you were both out of breath, he rested his forehead against yours and you stared at each other like that for a bit. Just existing comfortably in each other's space, breathing each other's air and sharing the first of many intimate moments.

After a while he laughed quitely before blurting out "Now that that's out of the way, do you have a pack of tissues, my love?"

So... yeah

My brain though of it, my fingers typed it,

Had a breakdown

Bon appétit

Also I can't seem to be able to write Lando without including Oscar in some capacity... interesting

#my thots #lando thots #lando norris #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #ln4 #ln4 smut #ln4 x reader

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mirohlayo · 20 hours

Note

Hi there, congrats on 1k!! Well deserved and it’s only up from here! I was wondering if I could request 🍓 with the prompts ❝ you know i love and care about you, right? ❞ and ❝ i'm never leaving you. you're stuck with me. ❞ and for Oscar? Thank you in advance if you do this! 🧡

BLEEDING LOVE

( even when you are barely injured, Oscar made the promise to always take care of you. )

warning : mentions of blood, fluff

note : loved this one. and thank youuu so so muchh ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩 !!!!

word count : 1.2k

It definitely wasn't your day. At least it was before you made a clumsy move.

The cut on your hand, which is not that thin and small, reveals a red pool of blood. The small reddish drops, almost black burgundy, fell freely onto the ground. You seem to be dizzy for a moment, your vision is wandering.

The knife that you held firmly in your right hand comes down with a dull thud on the cutting board, where your pieces of fruit absorb the blood flowing from your hand. It wasn't that bad, but it definitely wasn't pretty to look at.

You weren't really the clumsy type, but sometimes that happens. You were precocious and you took care of yourself, in order to avoid any injuries. But a little careless mistake always happens and, unfortunately, your hand paid the price.

Cutting fruit into pieces is a task that does not require talent, it is even an easy task to accomplish. So why did you have to cut your hand, with that knife that cut your skin enough to release a flood of blood.

Usually, you would have panicked and asked your boyfriend Oscar for help. He's always taken care of you and he knows how to take care of you, so you've just been used to being pampered by this man.

However, the Australian has not yet arrived from his meeting at McLaren's MTC, and so you find yourself alone, in your kitchen, with your hand bleeding, and your thoughts completely lost. What to do in this situation?

You definitely didn't want to bother your boyfriend. After all, he's at an important meeting and you're definitely not going to let him come to your rescue for a simple cut, even if it's painful and bloody. The best thing is to take care of yourself, like a real adult.

As you take a deep breath, you finally come to your senses and run to the bathroom. You quickly open the small medicine cabinet, where the bandages and disinfectant are stored. Passing your hand under the water, you then wrap it in a small bandage carefully made by you, since a bandage was too small to cover your wound.

You finally sigh, putting the care kit back in its original place. Then, returning to the kitchen, you take care to throw the blood-stained fruits in the trash, keeping the intact ones to eat.

You sit comfortably on the sofa, bowl of fruit in hand and your favorite series on the television. Now all that remained was to wait. Wait for your boyfriend to arrive. What will he say when he notices the big reddish spot on your hand?

You didn't want to worry him so little. It's so childish to worry Oscar just over a small injury, and there was no way he would worry about you, when after all everyone cuts themselves with a knife.

You just had to find an excuse, a solution, so as not to worry him. But it seems that time was not on your side, and that Oscar's arrival was closer than expected.

You didn't have time to think, the Australian showed up at your house, the door wide open, and his smile wide. Shit. You have to hide your hand.

You hear him call your name as he walks a little closer to the living room. “Hello, pretty girl.” You turn your head to look at him from the couch. His hair is tangled from his cap and his cheeks are pink from the scorching heat outside. He is simply adorable.

A gaping smile takes place on your face as you feel Oscar wrap his arms around your chest. You take care to hide your left hand as he leans closer to you, capturing your lips in a quick kiss. “How is my princess?” He asks you suddenly, placing another kiss on your hair.

You fake a smile, hoping it's real and sincere enough. “Good. How did the meeting go?” You try to change the topic of conversation, before he notices that no, you're not doing very well. He takes a seat next to you on the couch, snuggling closer to your body.

“We talked a little about the car, the improvements and the next races. Nothing special.” You nod slowly, taking care to pay attention. But maybe that was a mistake.

As you listened to him speak, you suddenly placed a lock of hair behind your ear, using your left hand, where the bandage was immaculate with blood. And of course, it didn't escape Oscar's gaze.

His eyes widen as he quickly grabs your hand, peering in horror at the red bandage. "What in the world is that?? Princess, you're not okay at all !" His eyebrows furrow as you see worry dotted across his face.

Oh. You, who didn't want to worry him, it's ruined. "No really, I'm fine Oscar. It's nothing, just a small cut." You try as best you can to reassure him, but it doesn't seem to be working. "A small cut? The bandage is dripping blood! You should have told me sooner."

You lower your head, ashamed. You absolutely didn't want him to react like this and yet that's what you triggered. "I'm sorry Oscar. I didn't mean to worry you just about that." His expression softens, as his eyes now look at you tenderly.

Oh, his heart couldn't bear to see you so helpless. "Ohh, princess. You shouldn't have hesitated to tell me." He cups your face, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. “You know I love and care about you, right?” You can only look into his eyes, nodding.

After all he's right, he always looked out for you.

A soft smile settles on his face, as he places a kiss on your forehead. “Now c’mon, I’m going to take care of you.” He doesn't wait for your approval to lead you to the bathroom, and this time redo the bandage on your hand.

He disinfects the cut using a compress before bandaging it carefully. His gestures are cautious, fluid and extremely delicate. He doesn't want to hurt you more. Once the treatments are finished, he places another kiss on your hand. “Ohh, my poor baby.”

“Thank you Oscar. I don’t know what I would do without you.” He just smiles, before guiding you both into bed. He pulls you into his arms, holding you incredibly tight against him, careful not to crush your bandaged hand.

You feel more tired now. Maybe it's because Oscar discovered your injury, but you feel less energetic and the heat from Oscar makes you want to sleep. Your eyes slowly droop as you snuggle into him.

He comes to gently caress your hair, tracing indefinite patterns on the skin of your back. "I love you so much, Osc. Please don't leave me". You can only beg him, beg him to stay by your side.

These few words make him smile in such a pleasant way that his cheeks hurt. And in a last soft kiss pressed against your cheek, he addresses these few words to you. "I'm never leaving you. You're stuck with me."

You smile softly against his chest. Because you can't deny it, Oscar will always make sure to stay with you, and keep you stuck by his side for the rest of his life. “And I love you too, with all my heart, princess."

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri fanfic #op81 x reader

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huggybearluvr · 3 days

Note

Request for Nico Hischier!!

Y/n and Nico have a son who is older than their daughter and when their daughter has a little crush on one of Nico's teammates sons who just happens to be friends with Nico's son (don't know if that makes sense or not)

Rosie Cheeks | nh13

Masterlist

Summary: Your Life long best friend ask you to watch her son, Luca, who just so happens to be your son, Ronan's, Best friend for a week over the summer. You and your husband Nico agree however, you daughter, Lila, has the biggest crush on Luca.

Warnings: None

As you woke up beside your husband you could hear the approaching footsteps from down the hall. You bedroom door was slowly pushed open as you rolled away from your husband to see which child was there.

You smiled seeing your daughter, you waved her over gently lifting her onto the bed as she crawled in between you and NIco.

"Good morning lovey," You smiled kissing your daughters head as she began to poke at Nicos back.

"Daddy, wake up!" She said continuing her attack on his back.

He rolled over smiling, as his hands found her sides tickling her, smiling even harder at her giggles.

"Daddy, Luca is coming today!" She squelled in excitement.

"Someones excited," Nico laughed.

"More like someone has a crush," You smiled, getting up out of bed looking over to Nico who starred at you with furrowed eye brows.

He looked down at your daughter as her cheeks glazed a light pink, at the mention of her having a crush on the boy.

"Someones cheeks are all pink," You laughed heading into your bathroom.

You checked your phone seeing that your friend would be dropping off Luca in about fifteen minutes.

"Neeks!" You called out from the bathroom. He scooped up Lila and headed to the bathroom.

"Yes?" He asked.

"They're gonna be here in fifteen, I'll take Ms. Rosie cheeks and you can go get Ronan ready for the beach?"

"Absolutely," He smiled places Lila down and kissing your head before heading to your sons room.

You picked up Lila taking her to her room to pick out a swim suit and outfit for the day.

"Alright lovey, do you wanna wear your pink suit or yellow?" You asked holding up both the options.

"Yellow!" She said excitedly taking it from your hand.

You helped her get dressed, before heading back to your bedroom to find Nico and Ronan sat on the bed watching Bluey.

You lifted Lila, onto the bed and headed to the kitchen to make some breakfast.

As you were cutting fruit you heard the front door open. You best friend had arrived with Luca.

You smiled heading to the living room to greet them.

Your friend was quick to pull you into her arms singing out a string of thank you's.

"Of course, were happy to watch him!" You responded taking his bags from her husband.

Luca said his goodbyes to his parents and made himself comfy on the couch as Nico brought the kids out for breakfast.

You settled his things into Ronan rooms and joined them all for breakfast.

After everyone was done you got yourself ready and headed to the car.

"You look pretty," Luca spoke looking over to Lila sat in her car seat.

Her cheeks glazing a shade of pink once again.

You looked over smiling at Nico to find him staring down Luca through the rear view mirror. You were quick to slap his arm.

As you arrived at the beach the kids were quick to run ahead of you.

As you found a spot you set up the umbrella and towels helping the kids to remove their cover ups.

"Can we go to the water?" Your son asked tugging on your hand.

"Of course!" You smiled taking his and Luca's hand. Nico picked Lila up following you to the water. The boys were quick to let go and play at the water's edge.

Lila on the other hand would not let her dad put her down, "Daddy no." She squealed as he want to put her down, "Scary," She whispered in his ear hiding her face in his neck.

You stepped over rubbing her back," baby, there's no reason to be scared."

Luca walked over to where you were standing taking hold of Lila's hand," Lila, I promise you'll be okay, I'll be here the whole time," He smiled.

She slowly pulled her head up nodding at Nico to put her down. She took slow steps following Luca laughing as the water hit her feet.

"See not too bad," Luca smiled.

You took Nicos hand sitting in the sand watching the kids as they played on the edge. Noticing the never ending rosie cheeks littering your daughters face.

#nico hischier #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier fic #nico hischier x y/n #new jersey devils #dad nico hischier

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gn4bnahc · 1 day

Text

Workout Session

Pairing: Changbin & Bangchan x Fem!reader

Genre: Smut, strangers to lovers

Warnings: Threesome, creampie, oral, unprotected sex, rough sex, pet names: babygirl, slut.

Masterlist | VIDEO

This is just fiction!

This was your first time in this gym. You keep trying different gyms, but they were horrible, so you try out this new gym near you and get a membership.

As you entered, two guys stared at you, you guys stare at eachother for a few minutes before breaking it. You go to a machine, but you don’t know how to use it. You decided to ask for help, you looked around and saw that thise two guys were the ones near you right now, so approached them.

“Uh, excuse me”, you say while tapping Chan on the shoulder, both of them turn around and look at you “Hm?”, both of them say while raising their eyebrows and eyeing you up and down, “Can you help me out with that machine”, you say as they both nod and follow you.

They both guide you and teach you, “I’m Changbin by the way and hes Chan”, “Oh I’m Y/n”, you smile at eachother, shaking hands. They both walk away, but you could feel them still staring.

They look at you, practically eye fucking you. Your nipples, showing through your tank top, you didn’t wear a bra since all of them were in the laundry, your tight leggings with your camel toe (if you don’t know what that is, search it up), they couldn’t help but stare.

You were finally done working out, you pack your things getting ready to leave, but Changbin and Chan approached you. “Y/n would you maybe want to workout with us privately?”, Chan asked while smirking at you, “Huh? Where?”, “You know…”, Changbin says while crossing his arms, “Wait wha-”, “We don’t bite… unless you want us to…”, Chan says as both of them stare at you, waiting for your answer.

“I mean… you guys look pretty big… I don’t know if I can take it”, “We’ll be gentle, gorgeous”, Changbin says as they he looks at Chan, knowing that it was a lie.

Few minutes later

You guys go to the parking lot, “Which car do you wanna ride, mine or changbin’s… or do you wanna ride something else” Chan says teasingly as he smirks at you, your cheeks turn red while looking down shyly “I think i’ll ride Changbin’s…”, “Which are you talking about… my car or my di-”, you cut off Changbin, dragging him to his car “oookay, let’s just go now mkay”. “Hey! you better not taste that pussy before me!”, Chan says as Changbin chuckles, “Pfft you just gave me an idea”, Changbin says while looking at you, smiling innocently.

Chan texted Changbin to stop by the near gas station cause he was gonna pee. As Chan gets out of his car, “Take off your leggings now”, Changbin says, ordering you, you follow his orders quickly, he transfers to your seat, without any hesitation, he quickly circles on your clit, licking your wet cunt, “So wet for me already”, he holds both of your thighs, still burying himself in your pussy, you moan out loud, “Chan is there already, Changbin”, “Shit”, Changbin says as he quickly transfers to his seat, leaving you without your leggings and panties. Chan knocks on your window, you open it, he looks at both of you with your flushed faces, “Wait… why don’t you have your leggings on… Changbin… you little bitch”, Chan says jokingly shaking his head and chuckling, “My bad…”, Changbin says while shrugging.

As Changbin was driving, he caresses your thigh “Man, I can’t wait to fuck you dumb”, you giggle and place a kiss on his cheek.

Few hours later

All of you arrive at their house. As you enter, Chan quickly kisses you roughly, holding onto your waist, “I’m definitely going to punish you after what you and Changbin did a while ago”, he says while you take off your shoes.

They suddenly both carry you to Chan’s room, Chan still kissing you as he goes upstairs, “Helloooo… Im literally here right now”, Changbin says as you and Chan look at him, laughing.

They throw you on the bed, Changbin plays some music while Chan is making out with you, he puts in a finger, pumping it inside you, you moan as he adds another finger in and out of you. “Hey… I thought we were gonna do this together..”, Changbin says as he pouts, you both stop kissing and look at him while smiling. You crawl towards Changbin unzip his pants, taking off his underwear, you look up at him while you stroke his dick slowly, you smile at him innocently even though your literally about to have a threesome. While you suck on Changbin’s cock, your ass was in Chan’s view, when you heard his zipper unzip, you knew what was about to come. Chan lines his cock on your entance, he puts it in, starting off slow but going faster. You suck on Changbin’s dick faster, licking his tip, “Shit babygirl… best work out evaaaar”, Changbin says while throwing his head back, Chan goes faster, fucking you from behind. As you whimper , cry out loud, moan, both of they feel more aroused. Both of them look at eachother and nod, they pull out. You look at them confused, “Why’d you stop?”, you look at them pouting, Changbin lays down, he taps on his thigh, “Here, you fucking slut”, you crawl to him, going down his dick slowly, you moan as his dick enters your cunt. You start bouncing on him, Chan lines up on your ass hole, “Channie, will it fit?”, Chan smiled as he heard you call him ‘Channie’. Both of them are fucking voth of your holes right now, Changbin is down you, Chan is behind you, “Fuuuck this feels like heaven”, you say as you bite your lip, rolling your eyes back, panting heavily. “Shit I’m about to… t-”, Chan says as both of them releases their load in you, filling you up, you squirt, “Shit you’re like a fucking fountain”, Changbin says as he presses his dick deeper inside you, rubbing your clit.

The three of you lay down on the bed, you in between them, “We’re definitely taking you out on a date after this”, Chan says as they both look at you, panting heavily, “Huh? What do you mean after this?”, “Babygirl, we didn’t say we’re finished”, Changbin says as they both look at you, smirking.

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wheneclipsefalls · 2 days

Text

Grovel Part 2

Pairing: Aged Up Lo'ak x Fem Omatikaya Reader

Part 1

Summary: Lo'ak needs a plan. A plan that will bring you back to him.

Warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, lust, pinning, angst, past relationship, mentions of war, injury, etc.

“Stop whining.” Neteyam groaned, watching as Lo’ak secured another tie around the fabric’s base. The kelku was coming together nicely.

“I didn’t say anything.” Lo’ak all but huffed, lips turned downwards in the same fashion they had been since the celebration. He adjusted the straps of his loincloth, a trail of sweat racing down his spine. Oh how he already missed the refreshing waves of salt water.

“Your expectations were truly far too high, brother. What did you think she would do?”

Lo’ak shot him a seething look, one that warned against pushing it further, but brothers were immune to such limits.

“You’re lucky you made it out of there without injury. And now knowing what you did I can’t say I would have blamed her otherwise.”

“Yes Neteyam, I understand. Now can you shut up and help me lift the other end?” Lo’ak stomped past him, preparing the right side to be lifted. He didn’t wait for Neteyam to join him before using his own body weight to heave the heavy fabric into place. The younger Sully brother had been hyper fixated on his kelku since their arrival, even going as far as asking Kiri for advice on potential decoration.

This home had to be good enough to meet your fancy, an objective that he now understood to be much harder than originally anticipated.

“Mawey, baby brother. I am only trying to get your skxawng ass to understand.”

“Okay then fine!” The fabric was dropped to the floor in a heap. “Tell me what I should do. Since you know the ins and outs of wooing women, tell me how I am supposed to win her back.” His brows lifted, hands placed on his hips as he feigned bracing for his answer. Neteyam was not fazed by his younger brother’s outburst. After seeing Lo’ak’s restlessness the whole trip home in anticipation of seeing you, he was surprised the male was holding up as well as he was.

“I may just be a simple gentleman, bro, but I think an apology would be a good place to start.” He squeezed his brother’s shoulder, surprised when Lo’ak was too lost in thought to bother wrestling him off.

“I’ve tried. Everywhere I go she is avoiding me. I don’t even know where her kelku is or her routines. Otherwise-”

“Maybe I can help with that.”

Lo’ak sent him a skeptical look.

“What?” He deadpanned.

“She has a sister, right?” A completely rhetorical question that had Lo’ak knowing exactly where Neteyam was going with this. “Say the right words and maybe I can get some valuable help from Talu.”

“Wow. How did I deserve a brother like you?” Sarcasm dripped from his tone as he ran a hand over his face. It was no secret that Neteyam had taken a liking to Talu. The future Olo’eyktan was neither bashful nor shy when it came to playing the golden suitor.

Neteyam simply grinned before slapping him on the back and helping to hoist the kelku side once more.

You were impossible. So hard headed and stubborn that even knowing your route and home was not enough to get in a good apology. He was sure by now that Talu knew of his intentions with you, that giddy smile forever present whenever she announced his presence to you, but there was always an excuse to cut things short. Only a few minutes and you would be running off to aid at the healer’s tent or pick up the hunting gear you had left behind.

There was no end to the list of excuses you could formulate.

And it didn’t matter that neither himself nor Talu were fooled. You simply weren’t inclined to put more effort into hiding your disdain.

Lo’ak couldn’t remember you being this difficult before. When the two of you were younger you had handed your heart over to him on a silver platter. Of course your weird friendship had been full of teasing, pranks, and insults but that was only part of the fun. Once romance had been initiated, you took everything he gave with warmth and affection.

And he had ruined that.

He let out another sigh, trying to play it off when his mother gave him the side eye. His new bow was almost finished, surely the right weapon he would need to fetch an impressive kill. Perhaps he would use his spear too just in case. If he was going to win you over, it would need to be something extreme. Something that said all the words you would not let him get out.

At this point he was willing to take down a Palulukan if that is what it took.

He snorted at the thought. It may have been a few years since hunting on Omatikaya soil but he knew that thing would have him torn in two. Maybe then he would get your attention, whatever remained of his body finally being enough to crack your tough composure.

And then….

What started out as a ridiculously funny thought transformed into a new idea. A new plan. There was in fact one place that you could not run away from.

The healer’s tent had been slow in mid afternoon but luckily you were the only one on duty. When he walked through the tent flaps reverently, not bothering to hide the wince as his freshly torn up skin brushed the fabric, your lips parted. For a moment it seemed that concern swam in those beautiful eyes but then they were turning back into cold steel like that night at the festival.

“Kind of underestimated the swoop-”

He was cut off by your stern point to the space in front of you. He followed obediently but on the way he couldn’t help but let his gaze roam over your exquisite form. He had meant what he had said that first night. You were more beautiful than the day he last saw you, a goddess-like creature even his wildest dreams could not have imagined.

Today you wore a turquoise top made of small beads that were strung together to hang like vines. The color reminded him of the waters in Awa’atlu. Could that be your favorite color now? If so, he knew of so many places such gems and shells of that color. He could collect more for you. The beads mocked him, however, as their light weight cover just barely fell over your pretty nipples, one breath away from revealing the prize.

Hell, he was sure the right puff of air from his lips could push away those teasing beads.

As you began to work on applying ointment to his wounds Lo’ak forced himself to look away. However, he couldn’t find reason to not occasionally peak back and get a look at your pretty face. By Eywa, it was a true miracle that no one had snatched you up yet. Maybe he would thank the Great Mother for that gift at the Tree of Souls later.

At one point your diligence fell and strayed from the wounds to glance at him instead. He flashed a grin, one that didn’t match the state of his bloody back. You shoved his head to look forward roughly but he had already caught a glimpse of your rosy cheeks.

“You got injured how again?”

“Flying error, it’s been a while. Why?”

“No reason.”

Silence fell and Lo’ak had to keep himself from fumbling with his messy bun. You may be difficult now but one thing was still true. You always wore your heart on your sleeve.

“You don’t have to be worried, sevin-”

A sharp smack to the back of his head and Lo’ak couldn’t hide his surprised laugh.

“Damn, you’ve got a pretty good backhand.”

“Hush. I am trying to concentrate.”

It was sure to be a lie. His wounds were nothing in comparison to what you must have encountered during the war and with your experience you would have him healed and out in a few minutes. But then that meant he only had a very small window to squeeze this apology into.

“Don’t worry, I will behave.” He raised his hands in surrender but received only a little hum from you in response. “But while we’re here there is something I’ve been wanting to say.”

Lo’ak hissed when the ointment was applied harshly to his deepest cut. It was nothing he couldn’t handle after so many war wounds but it did manage to lose him a few seconds of precious time. Had that been your intent?

“When we were kids I was…an absolute skxawng.” No argument came from you and Lo’ak glanced back from the corner of his eye. “I was more than a skxawng actually. I was reckless and angry and I didn’t even think about how my actions would affect others. Especially you and-”

“I don’t care. It is done.” Without Talu’s presence there was no incentive to dampen the ice in your voice.

“Y/n,” He called your name softly, turning to grab your wrist and stop the movement. “I am sorry. I never should have hurt you like that. I knew better, especially….” He let out a deep sigh through his nose. “Especially considering how much I truly did love you.”

You yanked your wrist back as if his grip was red hot. Scrambling away slightly, he could see the control you had over the moment slipping. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to push it further, get you to accept his apology.

Unfortunately for him, Eywa must have decided that it was also the perfect time for the next healer to enter the tent.

“There were hardly any herbs left by the river. Next time we try the mountains instead.” Penyau said, the smile on her face slowly dropping once sensing the tension in the room.

“Great. Lo’ak needs patching up, sister.”

“Oh, well then-”

“No, no. Y/N is already on it-”

“I’m passing you over.”

“You truly don’t care to finish healing the Na’vi that was put under your care?” Not the angle he wanted to take, but he was panicking. So desperate to get a few more minutes with you that he had to stop himself from using his grandmother as a scapegoat to keep you here.

From the way your jaw clenched and tail curled he knew those cards would not have played well for him.

“Talu is waiting. I leave.” You gritted out. Not a second to make another attempt or ever apologize before you were past the threshold and leaving him in the dust. Or at least, leaving him with Penyau who looked confused but more than happy to assist him. The smile she gave, however, did not hold the same sweetness as yours.

Or at least the smile he remembered from all those years ago.

He prayed he would see it again soon.

A part of you wanted to insist upon staying home. Well no, all of you wanted to insist but if there was one thing you had learned from working with Mo’at is that there was no hope in defying her. If she saw it fit to bring you to the council meeting then that is exactly what you would have to do. Jake Sully was back as Olo’eyktan and with that came his sons’ attendance too. You were not foolish enough to hope otherwise, but there would surely be others there you could occupy your time with.

Even Tarsem had become a close friend of yours, as close as a clan member can dare to get to an Olo’eyktan, but conversation would be light and easy with him. If you were lucky perhaps you would be able to leave the meeting early as your sector of concern was far more narrow, giving you a chance to escape the inevitable small talk afterwards.

Luck, however, was not on your side. It seemed that Mo’at had deemed you her scribe for the meeting and that meant taking up every single detail presented. It was borderline impossible with the way Lo’ak’s eyes constantly strayed towards you. You’d think the male would have the decency to keep his staring at a minimum for public appearance.

Of course Lo’ak had never been afraid of attention.

That trait evidently had remained with him after all these years.

“Morning shift can circle northbound while overlapping with the afternoon watch.” Jake continued, using a twig to draw over their makeshift map in the dirt. It felt like he was speaking another language with the way your brain refused to concentrate. Jake might as well have switched into English with the rate you were comprehending.

“Lo’ak and Neteyam will be available by the end of the week once everything is settled in.”

You were so lost at this point it wasn’t even funny. Mo’at was going to have your head. As if sensing your confusion, the younger Sully brother said softly, “yes, for teaching.”

It didn’t clear things up much but Lo’ak had decided to start tying his hair back up into that damn bun again and you found yourself more dazed than in the beginning. Out of pure will power you resisted the urge to watch him dead on, unlike him. Watching those biceps stretch as he worked to wrestle those braids was still possible from your peripheral.

Another twist in your stomach.

Lo’ak relaxed backwards, long legs stretched out in front of him as Jake Sully continued his long speel. The meeting could have dragged on for centuries for all you knew and yet that twisting coil in your stomach never loosened. You felt like you were about to snap when the Olo’eyktan finally called for dismissal.

Up to your feet in a matter of seconds, Mo’at shot you a strange look. The tips of your ears burned as you tried to play it off and wait patiently for her. The meeting may have been over but that didn’t mean you were meant to leave her side. Most likely she would have other work for you to accomplish this afternoon and even if not it would be rude to not walk your Tsahik back to Home Tree.

“I’ve got it, grandmother.” Lo’ak easily switched Mo’at’s basket over to rest on his own hip. She gave him a nod and pat on the shoulder.

Swinging the netted bag of herbs and medicinals over your shoulder you focused primarily on the path ahead.

“Let me get that, sevin.” Lo’ak reached for your bag but with flaming cheeks you barely managed to deflect his advances and snap away.

The effort was pointless however when Mo’at gently grabbed the bag from your shoulder and handed it to him. An almost imperceivable smirk graced her lips at your perplexed expression but otherwise she remained silent. Slightly baffled and now avoiding Lo’ak’s unrelenting attention you veered to pick up the pace.

Now that he held your bag hostage there was no choice but to let him follow you both back to the healer’s tent. At least that’s what you thought until….

Mo’at let out a tired sigh and that was all it took for Lo’ak to insist she go home and get some rest. He assured her he would get the supplies back to the tent and walk you home safely, both actions that made you glare at him over her shoulder. The Tsahik, tired or not you couldn’t be sure, bid you farewell and gave her grandson another gentle squeeze to his shoulder.

The second she was out of sight you went for your bag. Lo’ak easily swiped away from your grabbing hands.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it.”

Despite his warm smile he was only met with unspoken annoyance that seeped into the atmosphere’s tension. If he wanted to walk you home, fine, but you were going to get it done in record time. Without another word you scrambled up the nearest tree, deciding to take the overhead route to avoid traffic.

You could hear the clanking bags and basket as Lo’ak had to find ways to follow behind with only one arm to propel himself upwards. You secretly resented the way he managed just fine, despite the obstacle, long legs rushing over branches like they had only left the forest for a day.

“Is your plan to avoid me forever?”

Teeth grinding together you grabbed hold of another branch over head and propelled yourself up the next level. This time was more of a struggle, several vials almost falling out of the basket but that only earned him one concerned glance before you were striding forward once more.

“I meant what I said yesterday. I truly am sorry.”

“Yes, I heard you.” The tempo you set with your feet borderlined running. Lo’ak’s struggle became ever more apparent as the two of you scaled higher.

“Well yes I know that…shit!” A vial slipped from the basket, Lo’ak immediately lunged to catch it. You carried forward, trying not to think about how he almost lost the precious herbs that took you weeks to find and gather. “Got it!” He called but you were already several branches above.

With this head start you may just be able to outrun the Omatikaya prince and make it home safely.

Distant curses sounded from below followed by scrambling feet.

When will he ever give up?

It’s hard to say what Lo’ak did during his time with the Metkayina but you were surprised, and slightly displeased, to see how capable Lo’ak had grown in his tree climbing. Although, now he had found a way to shimmy himself up a trunk with only his muscular legs to aid. The sheer athleticism required to do such made your head spin and cheeks heat.

Straight home.

No detours.

“Y/N, wait up.”

He was closer than you would have liked, no doubt a result of your short attention span.

“Come on, sevin. Does your determination to ignore me really warrant all of this?”

Your temper was always an easy one to flare and when it came to Lo’ak Sully it seemed he had written the manual on how to light that flame. Turning on your heel, Lo’ak had to grind to a quick halt in order to avoid running into you again. It felt all too familiar to the celebration the other night so this time you spoke before he had a chance to get a word in.

“Maybe so, but what does it matter to you?!” Nostrils flaring and breathing heavily it was no longer possible to hide how fast the male had gotten under your skin.

“It’s admittedly more difficult to court a woman that won’t even let me be in her presence.”

The savage words on the tip of your tongue stuttered and your treacherous body rippled with excitement.

“You aren’t courting me.”

“Well, I suppose that’s fair. I technically have not initiated courting yet.”

“No Lo’ak, you will not court me. Ever.” Words like unbending steel the male’s eyes locked with your own and this time you found ways to not balk under his attention. When it seemed that nothing else was going to be said you turned on your heel once more.

And then Lo’ak finally spoke.

“I don’t see how you could stop me.” He murmured gruffly but the words immediately struck your temper like daggers. A bullseye shot.

“Lo’ak Te Sulli-”

“Sevin, just listen for two seconds!”

“Do not call me that!” Your voice hitched into a higher octave.

“I’m sorry I just-”

“NO!” Your shriek echoed over the branches. Heated venom coursed through your veins. “You push and push and push but I am sick of hearing it!” More words threatened to fly free but your heart was already pounding at your ribcage. Stay one more second and you were sure to find yourself saying much more than you ever cared to.

“I’m not going to give up.”

Those bubbling truths refused to be swallowed any more.

“You say that now, Lo’ak, but just wait. Soon you will grow tired of chasing after me and when you do there will be a plethora of women waiting at your beck and call. Just like before there will be another woman to entertain you where I could not.”

Lo’ak’s eyes blew wide and tail dropped to the floor but even then it would only be a few seconds before he made another pleaful attempt. And you couldn’t take any more of that. Those golden eyes covered by his signature two braids already beseeched your forgiveness far too easily.

“And once again you will go to her.”

He called your name as you left but you were already scrambling to safety.

It was going to take a grand gesture. One that would prove his loyalty to not only you but every Na’vi in the clan. Your forgiveness was not going to be an easy thing to win over but that was okay. Lo’ak had dealt with far worse for so much less. Enduring some verbal bashing and humbling circumstances was the least he could do to win the woman of his dreams.

And yet…it still hurt.

The way you shut him out, not letting him learn even a morsel about the girl he had been missing for years. How much time had he spent imagining your reunion? Perhaps all of his dreams and hopes had clouded his sense of reality because now he stood here with only a shattered fantasy left. He had fooled himself for too long, thinking the past could be something swept away with the turning of time.

He had wounded you too deep for that.

So much deeper than he had ever let himself accept.

With a heavy sigh Lo’ak commanded his heart to settle. Today he could not afford doubts to plague his mind. Everything from here on out had to be intentional, had to send a message. Your discerning eye would be sharper to him than any other potential suitor that would court a woman. Each move would be assessed and either take him closer or further away from holding you in his arms again.

He checked over the supplies one more time, finger slipping into the pouch attached to his loincloth. Everything was in place.

“We can’t be late.” He reminded Neteyam, messing with his bun until he was satisfied with the way it sat.

“Someone is eager.” Neteyam's lips curved upwards as he leisurely took another bite of yovo. “Usually I am the one rushing us out the door.”

“Things can change. I can be responsible too.” He shucked Neteyam’s bag over his own shoulder, ready to leave with or without his brother.

Neteyam rolled his eyes, heaving himself up from his seated position.

“Yes but what good is it without her here to watch you do so, baby brother?” His fingers barely touched Lo’ak’s braids before the younger brother was swooping away and swatting at his arm. The death glare sent his way only made a deep chuckle rise in Neteyam’s chest.

Neteyam’s jesting was all in good fun but Lo’ak was far from in the mood to look at things that way. Over and over your words from the other day had echoed in his head. Your tone was drenched in steel cold enmity but even that couldn’t mask the pain that was seated in your golden orbs. His own childhood recklessness had put him at this point and now it was all he could think about.

Setting things up for today’s lesson, however, had helped. It gave him an outlet, some way to use these swirling emotions and put them into something useful. Lo’ak Sully was not one to give up easily, no matter what you said.

Gun to head Lo’ak would not be able to recite a word of what his brother spoke as they walked to the lake’s edge. The pounding of his heart was far too loud and it seemed his attention didn’t matter anyways when Neteyam’s own was easily captured by your sister. Without so much as a goodbye, he stalked towards the female Na’vi and left him behind.

The rocks were littered with various warriors and clan members in his age group. His father had thought it would be best to keep it within a demographic that they could relate to, make these lessons more personal. And yet Lo’ak had never felt more out of place. At one point in time these people had been his peers but things had been so different then. A time that was hard to remember, like a distant dream.

Only the memories of you had not been tainted with the passing of time. He blamed all of those days at the reef where his head had been filled with thoughts of you. It was hard to forget the one his heart longed for. Even his fling with Tsireya could not erase the mark you had left on him.

He finally caught sight of where you were perched next to another warrior.

Your eyes only skimmed over him for a second before turning away.

You thought that it was only a matter of time or opportunity before he would be swept away and wooed by another. Perhaps if you were right things would be so much easier. And yet the tug of his heart always brought him back to you. His inability to move on was not from a lack of effort.

So many one night stands and summer flings only for every single one to feel hollow and robotic.

You couldn’t have known that, however, and it was Lo’ak’s job to find a way to prove it to you.

There were a million different excuses you could have conjured up to avoid these lessons. Some of them had almost slipped out this morning as Talu babbled on about how excited she was to see the eldest Sully son. However, you were mature enough to face the hard truths. Coping out now would be negligent to your duties as a useful clan member. If Olo’eyktan found it vital that the next generation learned about underwater diving then it was your responsibility to add those skills to your arsenal.

It had been a couple days of successfully avoiding Lo’ak and now it seemed such a shame to break the streak. You refused to let those pesky thoughts bother you today however. You were her for one purpose and one purpose only. Master the art of free-diving and return to your new found peace and quiet.

Naturally Lo’ak was greeted with quite the welcoming party, Na’vi females coaxing him over to hear about his travels. Rolling your eyes you prayed that Neteyam wouldn’t catch wind of your sour demeanor. All your worries were for not. His charming smile never strayed from your sister. Talu was skilled at putting up a calm front but you knew her well enough to sense that she was bubbling from the inside.

You were going to hear about this conversation all night.

Relief was temporarily found when the lessons started and instruction was finally given. The water was cool against your heated skin and you enjoyed the way it made your hair dance. Drill after drill you struggled to hold your breath longer. It felt as if your lungs were about to explode as you tried to suck in more air before plunging in again.

Lo’ak and Neteyam would demonstrate then invite the crowd to mimic while they inspected and instructed along the way. It helped that you were not the only Na’vi who had no natural inclination towards these talents. Many came up to the surface choking on water and pushing hair from their face. The lake looked more like an active river with the pulsing waves and splashes that emitted from every corner.

You had to give the brothers credit. No matter how ridiculous you all must have looked they never let themselves show visible signs of judgment or even laughter.

It was far too easy to find Lo’ak in the midst. Even underwater he moved with a grace and calm that seemed so unlike him. It felt as if the water swirled to make way for him. He moved in sync with the pulse of Na’vi-made waves, cresting over them like a dance. Muscular frame floating through the abyss, he was a work of art among flailing limbs.

He looked relaxed enough to fall asleep. His descent deeper was treated like an afternoon stroll. Your own dimming supply of air faded into the background as you found yourself swimming down after him. It was hard to keep up. Every long stroke of his was at least four of yours and still it felt as if that distance only grew with every passing second.

He reached the bottom with one last kick, fingers carting through the various stones that lay there. Your brows furrowed as his own expression remained unperturbed. Finally a small smile broke loose when he caught hold of one rock in particular. It shimmered even in the daylight and Lo’ak made quick work to tuck it into the pouch at his side.

The first convulsing of your empty lungs was what broke you out of the trance. Lo’ak and his rock hunting was completely forgotten as your body screamed for oxygen. Now your turn to flail helplessly, you clawed towards the surface. Your lips pressed together, trying to focus on not giving into the urge of letting water in.

How had you gotten so far down here in the first place?

The water’s surface looked so close and yet every kick only seemed to make it further away. It was an optical illusion that had your fear spiking with every second you couldn’t take in air. You hardly registered the strong arm that wrapped around your waist until your convulsing body was flying through the water.

It was a miracle your own legs didn’t tangle with Lo’ak’s as they kicked out, but he had both of your bodies plunging upwards at a speed you could barely register. It seemed that your lungs simply could not get enough oxygen when your head finally broke through the surface. Your lungs still convulsed and your throat seized at every gasping breath.

“Just breathe. Nice and slow.” His deep voice tickled at your ear. Na’vi parted as you were floated over to the nearest shore. “There you go. In and out.”

It seemed like a simple instruction but your body refused to snap out of panic mode. Fingernails digging into his forearms you tried to dislodge the residue water from your lungs. One arm under your back and another beneath your bent knees, Lo’ak easily carried your shaking body onto shore. He sat down, gently settling you between his parted legs while cooing encouragement.

“Just focus on one breath at a time. Come on, do it with me, sevin.” His chest inflated against your back before slowly exhaling. You followed his lead. “That’s it. Try to breathe from here.” He placed his palm against your diaphragm. Eager to diminish the embarrassment that was creeping in, you zeroed in on acing his request.

Breathing this way felt more physical, stretching your lungs to a point you didn’t know they could reach but every exhale brought your heart rate one further step down.

“Very good.”

The praise washed over you like a warm flame. Finally it felt as if your body was complying with your wishes, relaxing back against his chest. Your earlier fears of drowning were quickly reshaping to seem as nothing more than overreaction. Relief was sweet.

“Slow your heart.” Lo’ak purred, tucking his chin over your shoulder as he placed one hand over your collarbones. It was dangerously close to where your breasts rose and fell.

With one swipe of your cupped hand through the water you had successfully catapulted water at his face. You dislodged yourself from his snuggling before sending him a dirty look and stomping off.

Maybe that trick worked for him back with the Metkayina girls but you knew better than to fall for his charming traps.

“Sister!” Talu shouted, darting past the crowd. You could see in the distance Neteyam standing waist deep in the lake, right where your sister had left him. “By Eywa, are you alright?”

Talu wasted no time in turning you back and forth in order to scour for injuries. Although still winded you did your best to ease her concerns.

“Mawey, I am fine.” A sharp slap to the back of your head made you hiss in surprise.

“Then what were you thinking?! Diving down like that without any experience! That was not a part of the drill!” Her nose scrunched in the way it always did when giving you a scolding.

“I know I just was…checking something…” You trailed off, feeling the heat of his gaze upon the back of your neck.

“Neteyam says that you’re not supposed to dive like that even after a few weeks of training. We have to start with the shallow-”

“I know! I know!” Your groan only earned you another glare.

“Don’t scare me like that!”

It was not a new experience to see Talu worked up. With your parents gone she was used to taking over as your caretaker and protector, although you were far beyond the years of needing such things. Regardless she had a knack for worrying. Yet another reason you had elected to never tell her about your history with Lo’ak.

“I am sorry.” It was nothing more than a mumble against her shoulder when she pulled you close.

“Thank the Great Mother Lo’ak was there.” She sighed and from over her shoulder you could see where he was now directing another Na’vi female who struggled to make it across the space with one glide.

“Yes, very lucky.” You deadpanned, rolling your eyes.

It would have been rude to leave the lesson without joining in on the following social. Or at least that is what Talu claimed when you tried to retire early. Of course you had ulterior motives for expressing how tired you were but it was not a lie either. No matter how many times you had pushed yourself to suck in greater air, to make it one more stroke, you could never get past a certain threshold. Determination and anger had only swirled higher whenever you saw Lo’ak dance through the water.

The entire ordeal had left you feeling defeated. The sooner you could crack the code on diving the sooner you could retire from these lessons. There was no denying however, how good the fire’s glow felt against your wet skin. Everyone huddled in a circle around the fire. Talu was more than happy to accept the seat Neteyam had saved for her.

If it weren’t for the fear of looking over eager you were sure she would have already been snuggled up against him for warmth. Despite your animosity towards the younger Sully brother you were happy to see Talu courted by such an honorable warrior. He gave appreciation and chivalry freely, just in the way she deserved.

You opted to take a seat at the edge of the circle, sitting close to Panyau. There was great entertainment to be found in the way some of the females slumped in disappointment when Neteyam focused his attention primarily on Talu. It took a hand to your lips to mask your giggle when one female’s tail dropped after Neteyam rejected her offering of drink.

Lo’ak was not exempt from the same attention, although he strategically placed himself among other male clan members. Perhaps it was all in your head but it appeared that for once he was getting sick of the limelight. It didn’t last for long however because sooner or later the brothers were pressed to share stories from their time with the Metkayina.

“A full grown Na’vi and he’s never flown?” Matutke questioned in disbelief, many other Na’vi mirroring his same perplexed expression.

“Never. I swear I saw his soul transcend to Eywa at first lift off. Think I still have the mark from where he dug his nails into my shoulder.” Lo’ak grinned, sounding a chorus of laughter through the crowd.

“He cried almost as much as you did your first time, baby brother.” Neteyam quipped, reaching over to squeeze the back of Lo’ak’s neck. His younger brother glared and rolled his eyes as laughter rung through the forest but he surprisingly didn’t offer a comeback.

Conversation ebbed and flowed easily among the group, old friends connecting once more. You found yourself even becoming content to sit by the fire’s glow with such jovial interactions taking place. It was nice to take the backseat and enjoy some much needed rest. Even being around Lo’ak was bearable as it seemed he had finally given up on bugging you.

That is, until things took a turn.

It all started with one of the male’s, Pe’ku, teasing Lo’ak about the new gems and shells woven in his hair. Lo’ak had playfully glared at him as his friend yammered on about how it looked as if he had taken half the reef back with him.

You did your best at tuning out the conversation when one female jumped in to defend him, talking about how particularly pretty the blue gem in his hair was. Sleep threatened to take over as Lo’ak explained how rare these pieces were, having to dive down to the deepest depths to retrieve them. Eyes rolling and head resting on your bent knees, you prayed that Talu would be ready to leave soon.

The sudden oohs and aaahs when Lo’ak pulled something from his side pouch were like lullabies to your tired ears.

And then your tail peaked with awareness. The group had grown silent and the weight of many eyes bore down on you.

“Huh? What?” You stammered, head finally lifting to take in the scene with confusion. A few giggles laced the crowd and Lo’ak gave you a crooked smile.

“Could I talk to you for a minute?” He asked gently.

“What? Why?” The sudden beam of attention surrounding you caused unease to settle.

Lo’ak gave a nervous laugh.

“Or I suppose I could ask here.” Tails and legs shifted out of the way as Lo’ak came to kneel before you. It was only then that you noticed the shimmering object in his right hand. “I started making this a few months ago, beginning when I first started to have hope of returning home.”

He laid the long necklace carefully over his thighs. These glimmering pieces were unlike anything you had ever seen and much like the blue piece in his hair, it danced under the fading streaks of the day’s light. However unlike the small piece in his hair these ones tarried among different colors. A kaleidoscope of rainbow that would never stay the same shade for long, prancing with every different bounce of light. Intricately woven into the shape of a bodice that reminded you much of the stretching branches that reached for the sun.

“It was the first time I had ever let myself imagine what it would be like to come back here. To see you again.”

The swirling gold specks in his eyes trapped your own wide eyed stare in a vice like grip.

“I thought about you every time I dove down to retrieve a piece. It was the only piece in Awa’atlu that held a flame to my memory of your beauty. Looking at the woman you have grown into today I see that it is greatly insufficient as a comparison.” A short laugh accompanied his last sentence.

The knot in your stomach flipped into acrobatics that had your heart pounding.

“For now this is all I have to offer as a courting gift. This and my vow.” The four fingered hand that rested on your thigh was warm, sending a jolt of electricity racing upwards. “Never will a day go by without my heart being full of love for you. Never a morning where I don’t ask myself what can be done to make you smile, to bring light into your life.To my dying breath I will protect you.”

It hit you then the specificity of this audience. At the sight of drooping females’ tails and piercing gazes of other males you realized that this was the mating pool. Your peers and potential suitors were all gathered here. And with them, every doe eyed female that had chased after Lo’ak since his return.

“I can not call you mine, at least not yet, but I do believe that Eywa has given me another chance to fight for that right. To fight for the honor it would be to reside by your side. So with my intentions clear and heart set I ask you to accept this first courting gift.”

The following silence was deafening. It felt as if every second ticking by was one step closer to the bomb in your chest exploding. The group enveloped you like quick sand, each lean closer tightening around you in a suffocating grip.

So when a small “yes” escaped your lips, you blamed it on the need to breathe. On the need to escape the borrading questions that would inevitably follow your rejection.

You were willing to blame it on anything.

Anything but the twinkle of excitement that struck you the second Lo’ak’s wide grin fell into place.

A/N: It has been so much fun to see y'all's reaction to this random little series I started. Please don't be shy! I love hearing your thoughts! It motivates me to keep writing<3

Taglist: @pandoraslxna @pandoraslovesworld @faintfill @rivatar @neteyamssyulang @mashiromochi @justcaptiannoodles @pocky444 @dayyzlol @kekunan @puddle-nerd @hazelwebsterboo2 @acerbicmoon @aesteticxsariana @haunting-venus @yawnetu @avatar4eva @baybaybear1 @nillikhyth @affinity101022 @tsireyasluvr @bambithewriter @delulumhaggy @kayfromthebay

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marnikula · 24 hours

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i loved the reader who cant say no trope :') i used to be that way

CAN WE GET READER WHO IS SUPER ASSERTIVE AND HAS A THING FOR SPENCER WHO IS JUST LIKE IN BAMBOOZLES OF READER BEING SO COMFORTABLE SAYING NO AND BEING STRAIGHTFORWARD 🙏🙏

SIMP

I could not think of any way to write this well for a few days, so sorry for the late reply. Also, if you are reading this and you made a request, I promise I am getting to it, I've just been a bit swamped with work and writing this post.

Now then, no real warnings except some cringe in the way that reader relentlessly simps after Reid.

✨Enjoy!✨

Your first meeting with Spencer Reid was something he would never be able to forget, even with his eidetic memory. You waltzed up to him after one of his guest lectures with such confidence that he stood to the side, thinking that you would pass by him. But you didn't. You stopped in front of him, speaking words that he would have never had the courage to utter to someone: "Do you have a name, or can I call you mine?"

He remembers seeing the way your friends cringed behind you, the pick up line that left your lips clearly having made them uncomfortable. When he thought that you would move on after seeing the blush spreading all the way from his toes to his ears, thinking that maybe you coming to flirt with him was a dare, but you didn't. Instead, you uttered another sentence that he could feel himself cringe to as well, but you didn't seem to mind, your eyes too filled with determination to be put off by his facial expression at your request. "I lost my phone number, can I have yours?" He genuinely thought you were joking, but then you held out your phone to him.

In a stupor of confusion, Spencer entered his contact details, waiting for the punchline to come, proving that this truly was some sort of joke. Throughout the whole interaction he was wondering how someone as attractive as you would decide to come up to him of all people and used lines that not even Morgan had the guts to use to try and flirt with him.

It took a few weeks of you consistently sending him pick up lines along with good morning messages and invites to a date before he decided to ask Morgan for advice. It wasn't helpful. His friend had simply laughed in disbelief when told the story and was rendered speechless when he read the messages exchanged between you, most of them from your side. Spencer decided to go for it, after all, what was the worst that could happen, you hit him with another pick up line?

_____________________________________________________________

It was worse, so much worse. When he arrived at the designated spot to find you before going to the movies he was met with a bouquet of red roses with branches of baby's breath spread in between. It was a beautiful arrangement he greatly appreciated, but the fact that you gave it to him the moment he stepped out of his car and into your view, as well as the fact that it was a very public display of affection sent Spencer reeling into a stuttering and blushing mess.

The movie you picked out was a romantic comedy, and although Spencer laughed quite a lot, he could not really enjoy the movie itself, too focused on the fact that you held his hand the moment the two of you sat down. It truly baffled Spencer how you could be so nonchalant about how you approached him, you did things he would not have even imagined in his wildest dreams to have the confidence to do.

At dinner, you decided to take him to your favorite restaurant. It was a quaint Italian place a few blocks down from the movie theater. The whole walk there you were full of energy, talking to him and listening to him spew random facts about things that happened in the movie. Your eyes held such pure adoration he wondered if he might have hung the stars in the sky without even realizing it.

______________________________________________________________

Spencer enjoyed his evening with you more than he ever had with anyone else he had gone out with before. As he lay in bed, thinking about the kiss you planted solidly on his cheek after he dropped you off at your apartment he wondered again how it was possible for someone so bright and confident to be as interested in him as you were.

As he drifted off to sleep, Reid wondered where this unfolding relationship with you would take him, and he could truly say that he was excited to see what would happen.

#bau #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer x reader #criminal minds fanfic

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iiseult · 2 days

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Oooh open requests! May I have King Baldwin with a wife reader who sweetly helps him treat his wounds regardless of how he tells her not to come into direct contact with his skin? Please, do it nice and fluffy, if it's not too much trouble! Thank you!

WEDDING NIGHT: Baldwin IV x reader

CWs → fluff, probable historical inaccuracies, she/her pronouns, leprosy, christianity and mentions of god, reader and baldwin just got married!

Note: This is the first request I've ever responded to! Thank you so much for sending it in, I really hope you enjoy! <3 Also this was supposed to be a drabble but I got carried away

Wordcount: 2k

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Baldwin was laying on his stomach with his bandaged arms and legs stretched out across the large mattress, and his face nuzzled into a plush pillow. The day had been strenuous for him, requiring much more standing than he was accustomed to, and his body ached terribly. Though originally just on his hands and face, the disease had recently spread up past his wrist and onto a small patch of his back, causing an uncomfortable burning sensation every time his clothing brushed against it. He was waiting for his physician to arrive and apply his nightly soothing salve, which usually helped to relieve some of the discomfort that resulted from the intense dryness of his skin. But when the door opened, instead of his physician, it was you.

Hastily, he sat up, looking around to find something to cover himself with. Besides the bandages wrapped around his ribcage, arms, and the middle of his face, the only thing he had on was a pair of white linen shorts. You covered your mouth and giggled as he scrambled to grab his robe from the nearby chair it was draped over.

“My lord, that really won’t be necessary. I’m only going to take it right back off once you put it on,” you said playfully, closing the door behind you and sauntering towards him. You were carrying a small basket in your left hand. He furrowed his brow and instinctually clutched the fabric to his chest, hoping it covered most of his exposed skin. A wave of heat rushed to his head, and he suddenly felt a bit dizzy.

“Lady Y/N– I mean, Your Highness, what are you doing here?” he asked, his voice betraying his mild panic as his eyes followed you across the bedroom. You had changed out of your wedding gown in favor of a tightly fitting dress of a deep emerald green and a low neckline– typical attire for a bride on her wedding night. Heat rose to his cheeks as he admired his new queen’s attractive figure, on display just for him. He really hadn’t been expecting this. You had to know that, given his condition, consummating the marriage would be more trouble than it was worth, and attempting to sire an heir with him would be a completely fruitless endeavor. Why, then, were you standing before him, looking like the very picture of grace and beauty? You smiled gently at him, setting down the basket and taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Let me help you. Please, lie back down so I can take those bandages off,” you murmured, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. You waited a moment, but he only gawked, eyes still shamelessly concentrating on your choice of wardrobe. You sighed and placed a hand over his bandaged one, looking deeply into his eyes.

“I promise I’ll be gentle.”

He hummed sadly, shaking his head no, knowing he could not give you what you wanted.

“I believe that you would, but I cannot allow it. If you were to come into contact with my bare skin…” he trailed off. You bit your lip. You knew he wouldn’t agree to it.

He noticed your disappointment, and his eyes softened a little.

“Look at you, your skin is so pure…if anything were to happen to it on my account, I could never forgive myself. Not only because of the pain it would inflict upon you, but also for my own selfish reasons.” He spoke slowly, letting his words sink in.

“My wife, you are so beautiful, and so smart. You have so much to give, and you are everything I am not. If you were to put yourself at risk of becoming like me, you would be condemning yourself to a short, bitter life of wasted potential. Though I may not be long for this world, I want to spend the remainder of my days admiring you and all that you bring. Please do not forsake the gifts God has given you for fleeting desires of the flesh,” he begged. His blue eyes were so wide, pleading, swimming with genuine emotion, but it wasn’t enough to break you. You knew what you wanted.

“Baldwin,” you said, addressing him directly for the first time, “Just this once, please. Let me do this for you.”

You tugged lightly at the fabric bunched up in his grasp. He resigned, allowing you to pull it away and discard it at the foot of the bed, leaving his mostly bare chest exposed to your intimate gaze. No woman had ever seen this much of him before. He watched as your eyes traced his body, beginning at his delicate neck and protruding collar bones, then down to the smooth expanse of creamy skin covering his chest, and finally to his well-defined middle. Those parts of him had yet to be contaminated by his affliction. You had yet to ever come into contact with his bare skin, but the way you were studying him, he could almost feel the sweet sensation of your fingertips ghosting over his body.

“Y/N, I’m sorry if you had hopes of…enjoying a true wedding night with me, but I must be honest with you, even if it does cause me great pain and regret-”

You hushed him quietly, clasping his hand in yours a little tighter.

“No, my love, you don’t have to explain to me. I understand. That is not what I came for. I simply wanted to take care of my husband.” You smiled, the corners of your eyes crinkling as you gazed down at him lovingly. He let out a breath and untensed his shoulders, relieved that he wasn’t letting you down after all. The sight of you smiling down at him with all the love in the world melted his heart, and his resolve broke.

“Alright. But please promise me you will cleanse yourself thoroughly afterwards. We must do everything we can to prevent the spread,” he whispered, dropping his hand to allow you to have your way with him.

Slowly, carefully, you reached for him, stretching your fingertips out and finally grazing them against the middle of his chest. He inhaled sharply, watching in awe. Your touch was feather-light, but it sent a spark of heat straight to his heart. His skin tingled. Gently, you applied a bit of pressure, encouraging him to lay back. He stared into your eyes and refused to look anywhere else as he readjusted his position, locks of blond hair shifting away from his brow as he reclined.

“That’s it, just like that. Perfect. Now, just relax, I brought some oils and salves for you. I’m going to take this bandage off now, okay?” You said, reaching for his wrapped hand. He nodded, and you slowly began unwinding the linens, peeling them away to reveal the most decayed part of his body; his right hand. Any skin left intact on it was shaded by a grayish hue, and the rest was just angry, red, open sores. You fought the urge to wince, not because it disgusted you, because it didn’t, but because you empathized with Baldwin, feeling the pain he must have felt in that moment. The bandages you removed were dotted with blood and other secretions from the angry wounds.

You continued unraveling, all the way up his arm, and its condition gradually improved the further up you got. Then you moved to the other arm, repeating the same process. Soon, it was time to attend to the linens coiled around his torso, protecting the rash on his back.

“Can you sit up for me, please?”

He wordlessly obeyed, watching you work through his curtain of fine, golden hair. You scooted over until you were fully seated on the bed, face to face with him. He was suddenly glad for the bandage covering most of his cheeks and nose, so you didn’t detect the blush rapidly spreading across them.

You reached around with your left arm and placed your cool palm against his shoulder blade to steady him as you pulled away the bandages. He sat as still as possible, not sure what to do with himself. His heart was about to beat out of his chest. Your hand was so soft, so slow…it was lulling him into a trance. He sighed deeply, letting the air roll all the way through his lungs. You deftly unweaved the bandage with your delicate fingers, working swiftly to avoid any discomfort that the pulling might cause him. Soon, all that remained was his face.

Wordlessly, you slid a hand up the back of his neck and cradled his head in your palm, threading your fingers through his curls. He let his head fall back, confident that you would support him, and closed his eyes. A quiet rumble emanated from the back of his throat when he felt your fingertips brush his forehead. Then, you peeled off the last bandage, finally exposing the sensitive skin of his face to the cool evening air.

Yes, his complexion was blemished and inflamed, as you expected. His nose was red and dry, some of the skin flaking off completely. His lips were in much the same condition. A smattering of pink blotches covered his handsome cheeks. But to you, nobody had ever looked closer to perfect. You grinned and cupped his face between your hands, gently circling your thumb over his cheek. His pretty blue eyes crinkled up at the corners as he smiled back, letting out a short laugh he never meant to let out.

“You are such a beautiful boy, Baldwin. I love seeing your smile so much,” you said, tracing his bottom lip. That smile only grew as he closed his eyes in bliss. Your warmth was almost too much for him to handle.

“I’m going to apply the salve now, okay?” you asked, gently laying his head down on his pillow and reaching for a bottle from your basket.

“Mhmm,” he hummed contentedly. The smell of lavender and chamomile permeated the air as you scooped up a large blob of the salve and gently smeared it over his cheekbones. He sighed in relief as soon as it touched his parched skin, his pink lips parting. Soon, his face had absorbed most of the moisture, making him glisten in the candlelight like he was made of porcelain, and you moved onto his back, having him turn over. You ran your hands over the plains of his shoulder blades, massaging the tissue to help relieve any aches that may have built up. He groaned into the pillow in satisfaction. You smiled, continuing your ministrations.

Needless to say, Baldwin had never experienced anything remotely similar to this before. The way you handled him and didn’t shy away from coming into direct contact with the most afflicted parts of his body made his stomach do flips. Maybe he could get used to this.

‘I think I’m all done, my king. You can turn back over,” you said softly, putting the cork back in your bottle and stowing it away in the basket. Baldwin stretched leisurely and rolled over, hair partially obscuring his half-lidded eyes and crooked smile. He suddenly looked so young; only eighteen years old and he had already led an army.

“Thank you, love,” he murmured, reaching out to grab your hand, bravely intertwining your fingers. He figured the damage had already been done, and there was no harm in a few more precious seconds of warmth. So he swiftly lifted your hand and pressed it to his delicate lips, almost burning your skin with the lingering passion in his touch.

Now it was your turn to blush.

#king baldwin iv x reader #king baldwin iv #baldwin iv #kingdom of heaven #baldwin iv one shot #badlwin iv drabble #fluff #kingdom of heaven fluff #baldwin iv x reader #wedding night

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canmargesimpson · 3 days

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Chapter 1:

This idea has been in my head over 2 years now so please be nice

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☪ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The date was February 1, 1996. Steve and Eddie were both in the supermarket buying food and supplies to survive the horrible winter they were exposed to. Since moving to Chicago, they have learned that when it came to winter, it was no joke. At least they weren’t in their crappy apartment they used to be before. When they got married last summer, they decided to move into a better house, and so they bought a small Chicago styled house, in a little neighborhood where the neighbors weren’t nosey or even cared that two men were sharing the same bed every night, or even that their neighbor was a considered a “Metal Icon”. Inside their house, it was their own world, where Eddie could dance to corny pop songs, Steve could read with his glasses and they could watch weird science fiction movies with their cat, Gimli, on their lap purring.

Now, they both found themselves on the breakfast aisle where Steve was carefully choosing a coffee since the last one they bought was horrible. But as he did that, Eddie stared at a father and his daughter. He knows it's weird for him to stare at people, especially at a father playing pattycake with her daughter as they waited for the mother to arrive, but something about them just caught his eye. Eventually, a woman walked up, with some bread on her arm, laughing at her daughter and husband. The man stood up and leaned in to give her wife a sweet peck on the lips before picking up their daughter, placing her on his hip, and walking away. To the next aisle, the giggles of the daughter echoing in the small supermarket they were in.

Seeing this small interaction just made Eddie's body warm up. This sort of thing is starting to happen more and more constantly. Whenever he looked through the living room window, and saw a small kid with their parents having fun, or even just walking by, he would grew fuzzy and

embarrassed for some weird reason. It starts with a single tingle on his stomach, then a warmth that covers him from head to toe making his ear turn bright red. Was this… Baby fever? He had never really felt like this, he always thought of kids as a pest or a broken alarm clock that wouldn't turn off. If you were to ask Eddie 10 years ago if he wanted kids, he would have laughed, hard. But now, he feels like it was… due. Like it was the final step of their journey together. He knew that Steve would totally be up to it, the man is already a father of a bunch of kids in his class, and he literally spent his youth taking care of Dustin and the party, so he knew that he would be totally up to it. But what worried him was his own self. Is he ready to be a father? Did he REALLY want to be a father?

“Eddie!” Steve snapped in front of his eyes, Eddie quickly blinking himself out of his own head “what’s wrong?”

Eddie looked back at where the family once was and then back at his illegitimate husband and smiled, shook his head and mumbled a “nothing”. They both walked around the supermarket till they got everything they wanted. They paid, and went home in their car, singing along to the songs on the radios like always. Once home, Gimli made it very clear he was hungry, so as Eddie put the groceries away, Steve fed the wild cat.

“Oh poor baby” Steve talked to the cat, in which he responded with a wails in response “yes, you are a poor baby, must be so hungry. How could we forget to feed you earlier?”

Eddie closed the cabinet and then looked at Steve and the warmth from before crawled back up his spine. God, there must be something really wrong with him. He finished quickly, shelving everything into a single cabinet and went straight to bed, opened his book and started reading. Eventually Steve joined him, plopping down next to his husband and stared up to Eddie as he read.

“What’s on your mind sweetheart?” Eddie asked as he read the next line. Throughout the years together, Eddie had practiced his listening while reading skill, and now he pretty much considered himself an expert. So now, from the corner of his eye, he could see Steve in his head thinking and with his other eye, he could read.

“I just… i want another cat” steve blurbs out

Eddie frowns confused as he places his Lord of the Rings inspired bookmark on the page, closes the book and leaves it on the nightstand. Yes, maybe he could read and listen at the same time, but sometimes, he just needs to focus on one thing, and apparently this was one of those times “Another cat?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighed, as he curled himself into Eddie and started playing with his old t-shirt from a metal band that he didn’t know. “I think Gimli deserves a brother… or sister”

Eddie placed his hand on Steve’s recently cut hair. It was shorter than usual, so he couldn’t really run his hands through it, but it was still long enough to pull when needed. So Eddie carefully pulled Steve’s hair, making him look up at him, their gaze meeting and locking. He could feel that Steve wasn’t telling him something, because if he really wanted another cat, he would have just gotten one, Eddie has told him a million times he doesn’t have to warn him. Eddie could arrive at his house with 10 new cat’s and he wouldn’t bother at all. So now having Steve curling up to him, asking him for a cat, when he already knew he could get one, told eddie there was something underneath his words

“Really?” Eddie blinked slowly, like a cat, staring straight into his soul. The younger boy looked away quickly and just sighed “what’s going on, honey?”

Steve looked back up, and took a deep breath. He moved up, so they could both be staring eye to eye, no one looking down or up at the other. He grabbed the hands of Eddie and just looked down at their hands together. Though they were very different, they fit perfectly together. While Eddie's fingers were thin, boney and long, Steve’s finger’s were chunky and strong. While Eddie's hands were covered in meaningful tattoos and rings, Steve's hands were completely bare from the wedding ring they both shared. Steve thinned his lips and just looked at eddie.

“I know we have already had this conversation, 2 years ago and you said no, but something in me hopes you have changed your mind in some way so…” Steve frowns and spills out his words “what do you think about having kids?”

Eddie inhaled clearly, quite surprised that he had just read his mind. Eddie obviously didn’t have the time to even think about it, i mean, he thought about it in the grocery store for some solid 5 minutes, but that was it. There was no reflection or process of the thought of having a child in the house, but that didn’t matter, because it was too late for Eddie to even think about it.

“Yes,” he said plainly.

Steve’s eyes went wide, his mouth parted slightly and he blacked three times just to make sure he was dreaming or not, to see if Eddie was just messing with him or being completely serious. He was quite surprised with the answer, since every time they ever got close to a human younger than 13, Eddie would quickly wrinkle his nose and just scratch his hair completely confused as if it were a math test. But now, his answer was so direct and simple, Steve could have never seen it coming.

“You said…yes?” Steve bit his tongue hiding his smile “yes? You wanna have kids?”

“I-i-i guess? I mean” Eddie sat up and looked away to stare into his lap and his hand fidgeting “I just… im so scared but like, fuck it?” he shrugged “i mean, today at the supermarket, that family kinda looked… happy. And now that I think of it, they must have been scared too, you know?” he looks down at his illegitimate husband who just stared in awe with a thin but visible layer of tears in his eyes ``and hell, you might be scared too!” Eddie laughed as Steve nodded “so let's just do it. Let’s go to an orphanage or a foster home or or or even find a surrogate! Let’s do our research and prepare, and if you end up with the six nuggets you once wanted back in Hawkins then lets have them! Fuck yeah!”

And that’s how it all started.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☪ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Chapter 2

#by: me #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie fic #Parent!Steddie #dad!steddie #steddie dads #steve and eddie #steddie fluff #steddie fanfic #steddie parents saga!

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livingformintyoongi · 1 day

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a/n: A little series that just occurred to me a few hours ago and that I wanted to keep here for the meantime.

A compilation of children's stories with a different ending than the one Disney shows in its movies. A place where you can hear the voices of the villains of these tales, and what would happen if the protagonist decided to take a different path.

Before The Hook | Peter Pan

Seokjin (Captain Hook) x fem!reader (Tinkerbell)

Before Kim Seokjin became known as the famous pirate called "Captain Hook" he was also an ordinary person. A boy with dreams and hopes, with a zest for life, with a desire to always have the youthful spirit that characterized him so much.

You listened to his wish and went to him, giving him the opportunity to enter Neverland. You never thought that things would end so badly for both of you.

Under The Hood | Little Red Riding Hood

Yoongi (Werewolf) x fem!reader (Little Red Riding Hood)

What would you do if the people in the town you grew up in for over 25 years turned their backs on you the day someone, or something, murdered your grandmother? Worse yet, what would you do if all those people you trusted so much blamed you for the crime and were willing to take your life for it?

Well, the most logical answer is to run away, right? That's why you grabbed your red hood, your uncle's axe and a basket full of food, ready to find whoever had committed the crime so you could clear your name and let your grandmother rest in peace.

When You Find My Heart | Alice In Wonderland

Hoseok (King of Hearts) x fem!reader (Alice)

You always believed that reading put you in a kind of trance, because whenever you read you entered a kind of blank moment, time seemed to pass differently, the place around you disappeared and became a completely different one.

That always happened to you when you read about Wonderland. At least until from one day to the next your book changed its order, forcing you to read it backwards.

Cold As Ice | Snow White

Namjoon (Robin Hood) x fem!reader (The Evil Queen)

Every day of your life you looked in the mirror, and every day you asked the same question. Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the most beautiful in the kingdom? Is that how the rumors were supposed to go? You were sure of it.

Every day you woke up with a bitter taste in your mouth, wishing those bad rumors would reach someone brave enough to end your life.

That's when Namjoon comes in, ready to do whatever it takes to save his friend Eira's life and that of his people. You were just another corrupt queen, I had nothing to lose, right?

When I Hear Your Voice | The Little Mermaid

Jimin (Prince Eric) x fem!reader (Ursula's daughter)

For the first time in your whole life you had used the advice your mother had given you since you were a little girl. You had the recipe to be human, you had the recipe to make anyone in the world fall in love with you, you could even become the most beautiful woman on the planet, but none of it would bring your mother back.

At least, you thought, you could still return the favor to that bitch who had taken your mother's life. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, if she took away what you loved most in this life, you would take away what she loved most, Park Jimin, the man for whom she risked the lives of all the inhabitants of the marine kingdom, and for whom you would now do the impossible to steal her

I See The Light | Tangled

Taehyung/Vante (Eugene) x fem!reader (Rapunzel)

Your job had always been fairly simple. You would stand waiting in your tower until some poor man came in and ran into you. You would offer them a place to sleep and give them food, all so that they would be unconscious and ready for your mother to take them out of the tower and do with them whatever she wanted.

That had been your routine until the arrival of Vante, a criminal who was willing to do whatever it took to escape the tower alive. So you made him a deal.

His freedom for yours.

Zero To Hero | Hercules

Jungkook (Hercules) x fem!reader (Megara)

You met Jungkook when he was just a wimpy, whiny teenager, a lost boy who didn't know where he belonged or what to do with his life.

You gave him a little push, without giving him much importance, without thinking that he would be the same person who would put your life at risk years later, without thinking that your current self was willing to do anything to protect him and his noble heart from the monster that was the person to whom you belonged.

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mimisempai · 3 days

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I'll find you at the end of the road - Chap 2/8

Chapter summary

The mystery thickens, then becomes clearer... a mysterious correspondence is being born...

On Ao3

Rating G - 4665 words

Chap 1 - Chap 2 - Chap 3

Alone in the teachers' lounge, Crowley tried to pour himself a cup of coffee despite his shaking hands, but had to put the cup down and take several deep breaths to calm himself.

He didn't hear the headmistress enter and jumped at the sound of her voice.

"Ah, you're here."

Mrs Tracy had grabbed the coffee pot and filled Crowley's cup before handing it to him, "I know about the accident near St James Park. I had to go there because a class from our academy was on the bus. Luckily none of them were hurt. The paramedics, who knew you were a teacher here, told us you fought really hard for that man."

Crowley sighed, "And yet, everything I've done hasn't been enough. No matter how well I know first aid, no matter how regularly I take refresher courses, it hasn't been enough."

He paused, took a sip of coffee, and continued, "I have to get back to class. There's nothing like work to take your mind off things."

He emptied his cup in one gulp before heading for the door.

"Crowley?"

Crowley stopped and turned to find himself face to face with the headmistress who had followed in his footsteps. Mrs. Tracy placed her hand on his shoulder and said quietly, "Do me a favor. On your day off, get as far away from here as you can. Will you? Go somewhere you feel good...a place that brings you peace."

Throat tightening, Crowley nodded before continuing on his way.

Aziraphale left the lake house and walked to his Beetle parked by the mailbox. Before getting into his car, he placed a letter in the box, raised the flag, and drove to his store.

At the same time, Crowley decided to follow Mrs. Tracy's advice and took his car to Ditchling. The lake had always given him a sense of serenity, so he drove north of the small village.

The day was clear and bright, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves on the trees.

Before reaching the lake, he stopped at the small local grocery store, whose owners he knew well, to buy his lunch and a drink.

He greeted them as he entered the store: "Hello Frank, hello Bill!"

Frank walked over to him and, after giving him a hug, exclaimed, "We haven't seen you in a while. How are things in the city?"

Crowley shrugged and replied in a neutral tone, "Fine. I'm getting used to it."

Bill, who had joined them, hugged him in turn before asking inquisitively, "What are you doing here?"

Crowley swallowed the lump that formed in the back of his throat whenever he thought of the tragedy in St. James Park, then replied quietly, "I just had to get out of the city. I needed some fresh air and I missed the peaceful life here."

Bill nodded vigorously, "I hear you, for nothing in the world would I want to go back to city life."

Suddenly, Frank bent his head to the ground and said quietly, "What's the matter, sweetie?"

Crowley followed his gaze and saw a little boy hiding behind Frank's leg, then exclaimed, "Hey, Joel, how you've grown! How old are you now?"

"Two." Frank replied as the little boy raised his hand and showed two fingers. "Say hello to Crowley, Joel, you like him, don't you?"

"Hi Cwoly!"

The little boy, all shyness gone, stretched out his arms to Crowley, who took him in his arms and planted a loud kiss on his forehead, making Joel giggle.

They chatted for a few moments, then Crowley, already in a better mood after spending time with this kind family, left with his sandwich and drink, heading for the lake house, hoping there was no new occupant yet.

Arriving at the lake house, Crowley first checked to make sure no one was there, then got out of the car and walked along the house and down to the edge of the lake, where he found a rock large enough for him to sit on. He sat there for a long time, admiring the lake, whose surface was so smooth he could see the sky reflected in it. After eating his sandwich, he closed his eyes and threw his head back, enjoying the gentle breeze that seemed to sweep away his dark thoughts. Much later, as the sun began to set over the horizon and the temperature cooled, he told himself it was time to go home, but he wasn't in any hurry.

As he was getting into his car, he noticed the flag raised on the mailbox. Wondering if his letter was still in the box, he opened it out of curiosity. Inside was a plain envelope, different from the one he'd put there. He took it, and to his surprise, it was addressed to him.

Crowley sat down in the car parked in front of the house and began to read the letter.

I got your letter. Is this some kind of joke?

Because if it's not, I don't get it.

Crowley frowned at the tone of the letter and continued reading.

I am not the "next tenant" for the simple reason that there was no previous tenant.

The lake house has been unoccupied for over twenty years.

At first I thought maybe you'd come to the wrong place.

But then, how would you know about the paw prints?

Crowley was now completely confused. He thought for a moment, then fumbled in his satchel for a pen and paper and began to write.

Aziraphale parked the Beetle, happy to have finally finished his day's work, and saw that the mailbox flag had been raised. Slightly excited, he opened the box and saw that there was a letter inside, immediately recognizing the handwriting of Crowley, the so-called former tenant. He looked at it as he walked up to the house and saw that it came from the same address Crowley had given him to forward his letter to, 33 Great Marlborough Street, London.

Once inside, Aziraphale jumped as he felt something pass between his legs, nearly knocking him over. It was the rabbit that had left the paw prints. Apparently, it had decided to live here and had figured out how to get in.

Great, now he'd have to figure out what a rabbit would need.

But leaving that aside for now, he opened Crowley's letter and began to read.

The next day, after closing the store, Aziraphale waited beside the Beetle in front of a huge building that exuded opulence and majesty and dominated by the two familiar letters HH, Heavenly Home. Brand of luxury furnishings.

His eyes were fixed on the people coming out of it, and he smiled as soon as he saw the familiar slender figure with the even more familiar brown curl coming out of the main swinging door.

"Muriel!"

As soon as they saw him, Muriel exclaimed, "Aziraphale! What are you doing here? You're supposed to be busy in your little shop, surrounded by all those old things you love so much."

He didn't take it badly, for his friend and former colleague had said this in an affectionate tone, and Aziraphale replied gently, "I'm never too busy to look up an old friend and offer them a drink, or even dinner."

Muriel replied with a broad smile, "That makes me so happy."

Then Aziraphale sheepishly added, "I had something to do not far from here, and I thought why not combine the pleasant with the useful."

Muriel hugged him and then said softly, "I am so happy to see you. I miss you so much, you know. It's not the same without you here."

Over his shoulder, Aziraphale froze as he saw another familiar figure leave the building.

Their eyes met over Muriel's shoulder and Aziraphale murmured, "The Almighty.

As the woman walked at a brisk pace, Muriel put a hand on Aziraphale's arm and said in a slightly reproachful tone, "She is your mother, after all."

Aziraphale took a deep breath and said calmly, "Come on, let's go."

A short time later, they were both sitting in a small restaurant, chatting animatedly about the latest news, happy to catch up.

Muriel asked, "So how's life as an antiquarian?"

Aziraphale smiled before answering, "Well, it's been a challenge starting out on my own, it's one thing to do it as a hobby, sometimes it's frustrating depending on the clientele, but basically I..."

Muriel interrupted with a smile, "Say no more, you're having fun. I can see that. You seem to be blossoming."

Aziraphale nodded and replied, "It's true, I'm my own boss too, and on the whole it works out pretty well."

Muriel clinked her wine glass against their friend's and said gently, "I'm so happy for you."

"By the way, I bought a house..."

Muriel's eyes widened and she exclaimed, "So your business is doing really well!"

Aziraphale chuckled.

"I have mortgaged to my underwear, but I don't regret it."

"You never regretted leaving HH?"

Aziraphale shook his head and replied, "As much as I know you love working there, that big, cold, sterile corporation just isn't for me. When Mother set it up after my father died, she promised there would be an antique furniture restoration department for me, but she got lost in the race for power and never kept her promise." He swallowed a sip of wine before continuing, "Does she ever ask about me?"

Muriel shook their head, "She's too busy getting new contracts and I don't think she likes me very much, I guess she thinks I'm dim. I even thought she was going to fire me today because I didn't make enough sales."

Aziraphale put his hand on theirs and said gently, "Don't worry, you know her tantrums, she'll be her old self tomorrow."

They dropped the subject of his mother and continued to chat happily the rest of the evening, neither of them noticing the passing of time.

As they left the restaurant, Aziraphale offered to drop Muriel off at their place before heading back to the lake house.

As he started, he said to his friend, "If you don't mind, I'd like to mail a letter before I go, which is what I came for in the first place."

Muriel nodded and five minutes later he parked the Beetle on a street corner and walked around looking for the address on Crowley's letter.

He muttered to himself, "33 Great Marlborough St."

Muriel, who had followed him, asked, "What is it?"

Aziraphale looked around in confusion and replied, "I'm not sure."

His friend insisted, "Who lives there?"

He shook his head and replied, "I don't really know."

Aziraphale triple-checked, but he was in the right place, no doubt about it. The problem was that at this address there was only a recently dug foundation, a sign announcing a new building soon, but no habitable structure.

He checked the address one last time, and then he noticed something strange.

It was dated March 27, 2024.

Crowley walked the school hallways, examining the last letter from Aziraphale he'd found in the box. He read it for the fourth time and still didn't understand it.

There must be some mistake, I tried to deliver the letter personally, to the address you gave me, but there is no property at 33 Great Marlborough St, it's just a pile of rubble.

By the way, the date isn't right either.

Crowley scribbled a note and as soon as the class was over, he went to put the letter in the box.

At the lake house, Aziraphale leaned against the kitchen counter, reading the latest letter he'd received.

I got your last letter.

I don't know if you'll get my answer, but I want to get to the bottom of it.

By the way, for some reason the mail isn't coming to my address in London. I still have to pick it up by car. Anyway, all this is to say that I didn't make a mistake with the address.

I know where I live, thanks! Okay, it's ugly, but it's not a pile of rubble either. I live on the fourth floor of a rather new building.

And last but not least, I'm not stupid, I live in 2024.

Aziraphale laughed darkly at what seemed to be a silly joke and continued reading.

Just out of curiosity, what year do you think it is?

A few days later, sitting on his sofa with a glass of wine in his hand, Crowley studied the latest note from Aziraphale.

I'm living in 2022

SO PLEASE STOP BULLSHITTING ME.

Crowley laughed in disbelief and Harry looked at him before jumping up on the sofa and cuddling up to him.

He stroked the rabbit and thought before getting up and walking over to his dresser where he pulled out a shoebox full of photos.

He began to look through the photos. He came across one he'd forgotten, of himself when he was younger with his then-boyfriend, Furfur. They were in each other's arms, laughing, looking very much in love.

He looked at it for a second, then put it away and continued his search.

Finally, he found the photo he was looking for. It showed Crowley and a group of people out at night, wearing t-shirts and jeans as snow fell around them.

He turned it over and on the back was a date printed by the developer, APRIL 3, 2022.

The wind was blowing hard as Aziraphale arrived home to find the flag on the mailbox raised. Inside was a new letter from Crowley, which he grabbed before running up the path to the house as the sky began to darken.

After being greeted by the rabbit that had nearly knocked him down again, he read the letter while preparing his meal.

Since you don't believe me, I'll give you a little warning.

There was a bad flu in the spring of 2022.

I remember because it suddenly snowed at the beginning of April and for a long time.

After that, everyone got sick.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. Then he looked at the calendar to see that today was April 3rd and continued reading.

So, my mysterious pen pal, if you really are where... or when... you say you are... I hope you're getting plenty of rest, drinking lots of herbal tea, and eating fruit to store vitamins.

Warm milk with honey is also effective.

And above all, wear warm clothes.

Aziraphale laughed and said aloud in a mocking tone, "Snow, right."

Having had more than enough of this oddity, he crumpled up the letter wanting to throw it away, took a few steps, and suddenly had to stop to sneeze.

There was a bad flu in the spring of 2022.

He froze, thinking about the contents of the letter, and instinctively walked over to the bay window.

There, he couldn't hold back a gasp of surprise. Not at the beauty of the landscape, but because he was shocked.

Outside it was snowing heavily.

He looked at the falling snow for a long time, and only when he felt a chill run through his body did he stop thinking. Feeling the cold coming, he made himself a cup of tea and decided to go to bed, as he was no longer hungry and just wanted to sleep.

The next morning, bundled up in a heavy waistcoat, he went to the mailbox, which was covered with the snow that had fallen during the night, and after struggling with the flap, he quickly slipped a letter inside and closed the box. He looked at it, almost afraid it would bite him, and then raised the little red flag.

The Lake House - April 4 - 2024

Crowley opened the box, removed the letter from Aziraphale, and lowered the flag.

He unfolded it and saw that it consisted of a single line.

IS THAT POSSIBLE?

Crowley, his hands shaking, picked up a pen and replied before placing the letter back in the box and raising the flag.

The Lake House - April 4 - 2022

Aziraphale stared at the snow-covered mailbox from the house and was shocked to see the flag lowering by itself, and this began to frighten him a little. He got out and went to the mailbox, but when he got there he was shaken by a sneeze that made him bend over. When he looked up he saw that the flag had come back up.

"What the hell?!"

Although this really scared him, curiosity got the better of him and he opened the mailbox with a trembling hand to take out what seemed to be the same paper he'd mailed. Slightly disappointed, but also reassured that the flag thing was probably just the wind, he sighed and relaxed.

But as he unfolded the note, his heart leapt into his chest.

IS THAT POSSIBLE?

YES.

April 5, 2024

Crowley returned to his apartment in a daze. Sensing that something was wrong with his owner, Harry didn't run this to him this time and followed him into the living room.

Crowley took him in his arms and set the rabbit next to him on the sofa. Harry rested his head on Crowley's knee as Crowley absentmindedly scratched his head.

After a few moments, the professor picked up a piece of paper and began to write.

April 5, 2022

Aziraphale lay on his bed, surrounded by used tissues, still unable to believe the words on the letter from Crowley that had just arrived in the box. The rabbit that had truly made his home with him lay at the foot of his bed.

I don't know about you, but I don't even know what questions to ask.

Can you tell me something that might shed some light?

Aziraphale shook his head, then got up and walked around the house, thinking, trying to find a connection, when he arrived at the front door and saw the rabbit's paw prints outside.

He grabbed a piece of paper near his phone and scribbled quickly.

I think we have the same pet.

Let's do a little test so we don't always have to wait for the other one to answer. Let's meet on April 7th at 10 a.m. in front of the mailbox at the Lake House.

He put the letter in the mailbox, raised the flag, and went home to crawl under his comforter, exhausted from cold and excitement.

April 6, 2024

Crowley rose early to drive to the lake house, hoping his mysterious pen pal had responded. His heart pounding, he saw that the flag was raised. He ran to the box, opened it, and grasped the small piece of paper with trembling fingers.

He replied and put the note back in the mailbox.

Is it a white rabbit?

"See" you tomorrow then ;-)

Thus began, two years apart, an extraordinary exchange of letters, punctuated by the movement of a small flag on a mailbox.

April 7, 2022/2024 - 10:00 a.m.

A: Good morning, and yes, it is a rabbit.

C: Does it rub against your legs when you come in and follow you until it's fed?

A: Yes.

C: I named it Harry.

Aziraphale looked at the rabbit at his feet and said, "Nice to meet you, Harry."

The little rabbit rubbed against him as if it understood.

C: Perhaps we could introduce ourselves properly.

I'm Crowley, you know, and I've just arrived as a professor of astronomy at an institute for special students.

A: My name is Aziraphale. I'm an antiquarian and a collector. I have a little shop called A.Z. Fell & Co.

I'm still trying to figure it out. If in two years you are living in a building at 33 Great Marlborough St... which doesn't exist yet... where are you, uh, "now", my now, in 2022?

C: I'm studying for my doctorate in astrology at Westminster School.

Crowley stopped writing and looked around before continuing.

C: And now I'm corresponding in an extremely weird way with someone I've never met. Too, too, too weird!!!

A: What's it like in 2024?

C: It's great. Everyone is driving around in flying cars. We all wear metal colored suits and we all have super powers.

Aziraphale smiled at the joke before reading on.

C: Nothing has really changed. No. We have 5G, Twitter has become Xitter since Musk bought it. No, there has been no big change.

I have to go, I have a class this afternoon. I won't be able to be there for another three days, my next day off.

But... one thing worries me. What if by sending these letters, by communicating in this way, we inadvertently change the course of time itself, change the history of mankind forever?

Aziraphale thought for a moment before answering.

A: You're right. Let's not do that.

Aziraphale posted the letter and entered the house, Harry rubbing his feet as usual and beginning to follow him.

The antiquarian exclaimed, "Harry! That's enough!"

He took the rabbit in his arms and placed it next to where it usually ate and ordered it, "You wait here and stop following me."

For three days he repeated the same trick several times until Harry did indeed wait quietly by his bowl. He gave the rabbit a small piece of carrot to congratulate him and said softly, "Good boy."

Then, despite what they seemed to have decided, he wrote a short note and went to put it in the mailbox, raising the flag.

He only hoped that Crowley would still come and check.

April 10, 2024

Crowley reread the letter as he entered his apartment, understanding absolutely nothing.

Sorry, I took the liberty of altering the future and changed one little thing.

Crowley closed the door and while he expected to be nearly knocked down by Harry, who always ran between his legs, nothing happened.

He walked into the kitchen and was surprised to see teh rabbit bravely waiting for him next to its food bowl.

No need to thank me.

Crowley laughed out loud in a way he hadn't in a long time.

The next day, as he sat in class waiting for the next students to arrive, he was still wondering how he could thank Aziraphale, when Pepper suddenly appeared shyly on the doorstep.

Which was strange, because the bubbly girl was anything but shy, especially around him.

Surprisingly, since Crowley had told the students that he wanted them to ask him questions, to discuss his classes, it wasn't unusual for her to linger at the end of a class to discuss with him a contrary or not so contrary view of the class topics.

Crowley's colleagues had told him that it was the first time since Pepper's arrival at the Academy that anyone had managed to captivate her like that.

"Ahem, Professor... Crowley?"

"Crowley will suffice as always, Pepper," Crowley replied quietly before inviting her in with a gesture.

She reached over and placed something on his desk as she said, "Um... I wanted to thank you for always taking the time to answer me whenever I come in and whatever my question is, so I prepared this little something for you myself."

Crowley, touched, unwrapped the small package and took out a pretty bookmark in a shade of blue, adorned with stars; he looked at it more closely and gasped, "But it's..."

"You told us about your rabbit, so I put the rabbit constellation on it."

He looked up and said in a soft, emotional voice, "Thank you, Pepper, that's very thoughtful of you."

"You're welcome! See you later."

She turned and walked away, her usual lively stride.

Crowley looked at the bookmark for a long time; it had been ages since anyone had made such a thoughtful gesture for him, especially for something he'd done.

"Congratulations, Professor."

He looked up at the owner of the voice that had torn him from his thoughts, Anathema.

"What?"

"You are one of the chosen few who have the privilege of being among the people Pepper respects the most. She only gives this kind of personal gift to people she holds in high esteem."

"Oh..."

Anathema leaned against the doorframe and continued, "I came to invite you tonight. We're having a movie night with a small group of colleagues, the ones you know, in the video room. Are you interested?"

A while back, Crowley would have declined, but tonight, perhaps because of Aziraphale or thanks to him, he decided to accept and replied, "I'll come, thanks for thinking of me. What movie?"

“You've got mail.”

Crowley exclaimed, “One of my favorite film along with Richard Curtis' romcoms!”

Anathema chuckled softly and continued, "We'll meet there after class, and as soon as everyone's there, we'll get started. Newt will bring food and drinks."

A few hours later, they were discussing the movie over beers and burgers. There was Eric, Anathema, Newt, and even Mrs. Tracy, the principal.

At the end, Anathema laughed about the main characters, "Honestly, it's so stupid, I wouldn't have waited, I would have gone to see her as soon as I knew who she was. Why wait when you know she's your soul mate?"

Crowley squeezed Aziraphale's last letter in his pocket before saying quietly, "I think there's something pure about it. A correspondence with no social barriers, no looks, no pretense... no need to worry about details. There's something exciting about it."

Crowley didn't realize they were all looking at him, surprised to see him show so much passion, and Anathema nudged him, "You got someone in your life, Crowleyyyy?"

"Hm?"

Mrs. Tracy gave him a knowing look and insisted, "It's hard not to notice you writing or reading letters all the time."

Crowley blushed slightly before replying, "It's not that kind of relationship, though it's true I've never met him."

Anathema asked, curious, "Why?"

"Let's just say it's... complicated."

Seeing that Crowley had no desire to dwell on the subject, the others changed the subject and, discussing the movie, continued to enjoy a pleasant evening.

Later, on his way home, Crowley felt a pleasant warmth.

For the first time in a long time, he did not feel lonely.

He felt in his pocket the bookmark Pepper had given him and suddenly knew what he could do for Aziraphale.

The next morning, he went to a clothing stores in search of what he had in mind.

Three hours later, at the lake house, he dropped a letter with a small package in the mailbox. He raised the flag and headed back to town.

April 12, 2022

Aziraphale had just gotten up, and as he had every morning since this strange correspondence began, he went to check the mail and was pleasantly surprised to see the little flag up. He returned to the house a little later with a letter and a small package.

He opened the package and took out a beautiful tartan scarf. He wrapped it around his neck, sat down in his chair with a cup of tea and began to read the letter.

Thank you for educating my little Harry. Here's a little gift to show my appreciation.

Put it on and don't take it off for the rest of the month. It will be cold until the end of April.

Aziraphale tightened the scarf around his neck and smiled softly.

Aziraphale, I don't know if what we are doing will change the course of time, but what I am sure of is that it is having a positive impact on my life, so I don't want to stop.

This connection I have with you has allowed me to reach out to others and for the first time in a long time I don't feel alone.

I don't want to stop.

But if you want me to, I'll do it, you just have to let me know.

April 15th, 7:00 a.m., I'll come and get your answer.

Sincerely, Crowley.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #human au #alternate universe

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things-arent-what-they-seem66 · 1 hour

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ok things I’m going to be completely honest with you here, I NEED for adamsapple date night where they go to Ozzie’s PLEASE!

Highly requested date night at Ozzie's! I'm going to use the garden center au for this because brain rot lol

Adam finally gave in and agreed to a date with Lucifer. The king had been relentless with his pursuit of the new overlord and Adam ran out of ways to keep him out of Eden.

"Fine, one date. But it better be worth my while and if it sucks you can NEVER ask me out again." Is what he told Lucifer.

Lucifer of course, saw this as a challenge. Adam was a challenge in and of himself and Lucifer loved a good challenge. So of course he was going to take him to the best place for dinner in all the seven rings.

Ozzies

Adam was confused at first. "I thought sinners couldn't go to other rings?"

"You, my dear flower, are no need sinner. You're an overlord which is a fancy title of being a sinner BUT! You'll be there with me. I can make anything happen." Lucifer said smoothly, winking at him. He offered Adam his arm and was pleased when he took it.

When they got to Ozzie's, they were given the best booth that was in the house. There were even Lust ring native flowers on their table.

Adam looked at them in awe. "What are these?"

"Lustful lilacs. They only grow here, if you were to strip them down and scrap out the insides and eat it, you'd feel instant lustful feelings. Powerful stuff."

Adam let his power flow through him to connect with the flowers, he did indeed feel the power of lust coming from them. "They're fucking amazing."

Lucifer smiled. "You can take them home when we go if you'd like."

"Really?"

"Of course."

Adam smiled at him and smelled the flowers. Intoxicating.

The rest of the date went off without a hitch. Their dinner arrived and was delicious, the entertainment was more tasteful that night.

Adam loved those flowers.

He was also loving Lucifer's presence. Since they were in a booth, they could sit closer to each other. Adam felt a hand on his and his heart fluttered at the feeling. He looked over to see Lucifer giving him a soft look.

Ah, fuck it he's put him through a lot.

Adam leaned forward, eyes half lidded. Lucifer, pleasantly surprised, met him halfway and connected their lips together in a tender kiss.

Lucifer held Adam close by his waist and hair, worried he'd float away. He tested the waters and deepened the kiss.

Adam opened his mouth for him and moaned softly when his tongue danced with his own. He had a firm grip on the front of Lucifer's suit before he wrapped his arms around his neck and shoulders getting closer.

Adam wasn't sure how long they were making out like that, but it wasn't until someone made a comment about all the flowers did they break apart.

Vines had sprouted covered in roses, they swirled around the couple keeping them together, the ends in the shape of a heart. One other vine was gently caressing Lucifer's back in a loving manner.

"I thought I felt something touching me." Lucifer said with an amused tone. "So you do like me?~"

Adam flushed, damn traitorous flowers! More roses bloomed only to further embarrass him. "Whatever."

"Oh flower, don't ever change." Lucifer kissed him again and this time Adam used his vines to keep them impossibly close.

No point in trying to fight it.

#adamsapple #lucifer x adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #ask #garden au

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volklana · 17 hours

Text

Cursed Eyes Don't Lie

Request: Could you do something where in season 4 when they're escorting the children, that they encounter a woman on the travels they adopt into their band essentially to help with the children but she despises Sihtric because when he was one of Kjartans men he plundered her village and she never forgot him? Does that make sense and then somehow through all that angst make them fall in love?

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma associated with SA, I do not go into detail at all, it's just alluded to that it happened. If that isn't for you, please don't read, protect your peace and you can catch me next time xx

For some parts I have replaced things that Eadith did in the show with reader.

It was Finan who had spotted the little flicker of a fire in the distance that he insisted on following, he and Sihtric leading the way until they were brought to the ruins of an old Roman building at the edge of the woods.

They shared an unsure look, with Uhtred who looked to Eadith for reassurance.

“The children are tired, we need rest,” she urged and so he nodded at his companions to proceed.

They crept forward, up along the ridge of the broken ruins to try and decipher how many men were camped inside but to their shock and amusement they could only make out the silhouette of one woman, warming herself beside the fire, completely unaware that she was being watched.

“Just a woman?” Uhtred tilted his head in shock.

“I should go first,” Eadith offered, “If a band of men wander in demanding refuge you may startle her.”

Uhtred nodded in agreement and so Eadith made her way inside the ruins, ensuring to drag her feet a little to announce her arrival.

You swung around dagger in hand ready to attack and paused when she raised her hands in surrender, but not putting down your dagger.

“Please, I am with a group traveling with children, all I ask is that we may share your fire for the night. No harm will come upon you and we will leave at first light in the morning.”

You looked behind her to the small band of warriors and children clinging to their sides.

“I have no provisions or food, but there is a stream, you may wish to bath and collect water from,” you finally relented, placing your dagger back into its sheath around your waist and allowing them to pile in around the heat of the fire, while one of them announced they would try to hunt some food.

Introductions were made and you shared a little of your water with the children, while still remaining a little cautious of the men in the group. Eadith came to sit by your side and she bumped you gently with her arm.

“I know why you are wary. Us women have no choice but to be wary but I assure you these are some of the best men I have ever known, you have no reason to be worried. I promise you.”

“If you had seen the things I had seen lady you would be wary too,” was your only reply but you were reassured enough to loosen your guard.

Eventually as dusk was beginning to turn into the night the last of the men, the Dane Sihtric returned with two rabbits much to the cheer of his friends who immediately set about preparing them to cook while Finan, you had learned was his name, brought more wood to keep the fire going.

You went down to the stream to collect more water to give to the little Aelfwynn who seemed to be struggling the most with the conditions of the road, so much so you had parted with your furs for the night in an attempt to keep her warmer.

Uhtred’s man Sihtric, the Dane was washing his hands and face in the river and so you moved more upstream to collect the water.

You eyed him suspiciously, as he bathed but when he turned to face you, two mismatched eyes set a fire burning in your stomach and before you had time to think your actions through, you flung the animal hide you were using to store water with at him and it connected to his chest with a thud, as you fumbled for your dagger.

Your chest rose and fell in fury as you seethed, and he put his arms up in surrender, face a mixture of terror and confusion.

“You were one of Kjartan’s men, do not deny it!” you spat.

“Lady please,” he begged but made no move to stop you pressing the dagger to his neck.

“You sacked my village. You murdered my family.”

Sihtric’s eyes swam with emotion, his Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed.

“Please, it was a different life, I had no choice.”

“No I had no choice,” you spat “No choice but to endure while your men took what they wanted from my village and from…me,” you refused to look away at the last part, the shame was on them and not on you and you refused to allow it to shame you now.

“And when I think back on that day I see your eyes. Eyes of the devil looking down on me, leaving me there amongst the burning embers of my life. I swore I would never forget those eyes. I have cursed those eyes and I would have my revenge one day.”

There were tears in the Danes' eyes and you did not care.

“Then have your revenge, I won’t try to stop you. But know this,” he pleaded “I never willingly served Kjartan a day in my life, all I did was to survive his cruelty. He killed my mother, he would have killed me too had I not proven myself useful as a warrior but I never ever relished in destruction. And I never forced myself upon any woman, not then, and not now and I have served Lord Uhtred faithfully, especially since he killed my father.”

You cocked your eyebrow in curiosity and Sihtric sighed.

“I am Kjartan’s bastard,” he spat “And the world is a better place for him not being in it.”

You hated yourself for loosening your hold on the dagger ever so slightly, but Sihtric made no move to escape, “I am sorry for what you have endured at the hands of the men I was with, and for my part in it. I will receive punishment in whatever way you see fit.”

You pushed the knife further into his skin again, watching a trickle of blood run down his neck to his collarbone and disappearing under his vest, tears pooling in your own eyes.

“I’ve waited for this day for years. Night after night remembering those eyes, imagining what I would do when I had you in my grasp, it is what kept me going all these years, and now I’m here and I can’t do it. I can’t do it,” you cried, dropping your dagger at your feet.

You stood facing each other for an eternity, chests rising and falling, looking into each other’s eyes, before Sihtric knelt down before you, “On Thor’s hammer I offer you my protection for as long as you will allow it. Travel with us, the road is no place for a woman on her own and I will never allow any wrong to fall upon you at the hands of another man again. This I swear until you release me.”

You examined those two mismatched eyes once again, ones that had many moons ago offered you his hand and pulled you from the table you were hiding under, pressing an apple into your hand as he gathered the few possessions he had plundered, and watching you with sad eyes before he mounted his horse.

“Coward,” you had roared after him, in the midst of your burning village, but now it was you who was the coward.

You considered him carefully, and could see that he was sincere.

“I accept the offer of your protection. But make one unwanted move on me and I will have your balls for earrings,” you promised.

He couldn’t help but smile as he rose, and you ordered him to pick up the discarded hide of water to bring back to the camp, which he hastily fumbled for.

“And the curse?” he shouted trying to catch up to you.

“Remains until I see fit to lift it,” was all you offered, not giving him the chance to fall in step with you.

“What happened to your neck?” Finan asked as you walked back together.

“Ah, must have nicked in on a branch,” Sihtric dismissed but Finan warily eyed the dagger on your waist, and you cocked an eyebrow in challenge but thankfully he let it go.

You tossed and turned but could not find sleep. Every time you closed your eyes all you could see were Sihtric’s eyes. Those mismatched eyes you had grown so accustomed to hating. Sympathetic eyes, pulling you from your hiding place of fear and smoothing you down but making no attempt to force himself on you. And accepting eyes as you held a dagger to his throat, willing to allow you to hurt him, this made you feel more conflicted than you had in years.

Sihtric in turn could not sleep. He had earned two black eyes and a swollen lip once Tekil had informed Kjartan that he had refused to take his turn with you, but he could never admit that to you now. You had said you had cursed his eyes and maybe you had, Sihtric was no fool, he had seen the damage a curse could cause, maybe his curse was to have found the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on and never be granted the opportunity to earn her love. To see her but never to touch or hold.

The next morning Finan woke everyone up and the scramble to collect everything began.

Sihtric was by your side in an instant as the camp made to leave.

“She comes with us,” he announced, causing Finan and Uhtred to step toward him in bewilderment, “She comes with us. She comes with me.” was all he offered in terms of explanation and began walking, to which you simply followed behind.

Life on the road the next few days were a blaze of walking as far as possible in the light and hunkering down for the night wherever Uhtred deemed safe. Finan and Sihtric always took the nightwatch whilst you and Eadith tended to the children. Little Athelstan had taken a real shine to you, always opting to sleep by your side or holding your hand in the dark, but by day he only ever wanted to be by Finan’s side.

“Horses!” Uhtred warned and you all took to running. Sihtric grasped your hand in his.

“Keep running,” he urged, pulling you alongside him and you grasped his hand for dear life running as fast as you could. Only halting when you nearly fell into the lake with bodies of the dead from the sickness, Sihtric gripping you to stop you falling in.

Deciding against Sihtric’s suggestion to swim through, you had no option but to surrender to Eardwulf and his men’s approach, Sihtric ushered you behind him, one hand in front of you in an attempt to protect you.

“Protect the children with your lives,” Uhtred commanded as Eardwulf’s men dismounted their horses and you reached for your dagger, while Sihtric gave his own dagger to Athelstan.

As Edith revealed the truth of her brother’s treachery and he fled away into exile, Sihtric once again took your hand in his, squeezing it gently three times, for reassurance.

At Wollerton, you found horses and provisions for the next part of your journey, Eadith and Osferth were to remain with Aelfwynn, to try keep her alive, and Young Uhtred and Sihtric were to find Aethelflaed, you lingered awkwardly for a moment having received no orders.

“You will ride with me?” Sihtric announced but it was more like a question, and you nodded, before mounting his horse and he climbed on behind you. You were both awkward with the proximity, you wanted to put more space between you two but Sihtric’s strong arms encased you and in the end you had to relent to the fact that you could not escape his touch.

“Woah,” Sihtric jolted forward to catch you, it had been hours worth of riding and you hadn’t felt yourself falling asleep, but Sihtric caught you before you fell from the horse.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled feeling embarrassed.

“It’s okay I’ve got you,” he shushed “We will rest soon I promise, but lay your head back on me, that way you can close your eyes and I’ll keep a stronger hold on you,” and even though you didn’t want to, exhaustion overruled and you obeyed as his left arm locked around your waist.

He tried to ignore the hammering of his heart and for a long time he wouldn’t allow himself to look at your peaceful face, but when he did his breath caught in his throat and he had to force himself to look ahead again.

When you finally caught up to Aethelflaed and Sihtric relayed the news, you were almost dead on your feet.

Sihtric agreed to take Aethelflaed to where Osferth and Eadith were caring for Aelfwynn, and you delayed a moment.

“Leave me here,” you urged, “I will slow you down.”

“No,” Sihtric shook his head furiously, “I will not leave without you.”

“Sihtric,” you sighed.

“No y/n I am sworn to you and I will not abandon you. Where you go, I go.”

You knew him just well enough to know you were not going to win this battle so reluctantly you climbed back onto his horse.

When you finally reached Aegelesburgh to the news that Uhtred was to be named the Lord of Mercia, Sihtric went to go drinking with Finan and Osferth, but you went to catch some sleep. Promising you would meet him in the alehouse afterwards.

You arrived to a very solemn, very quiet group of soldiers, lamenting the fact that Uhtred had given up his chance to rule Mercia. Stiorra moved up a space to allow you to sit beside Sihtric and he bumped you reassuringly with his shoulder despite his sour mood. Finan returned with two jugs of ale and Eadith and you all settled into a heavy night of drinking. So much so that when the time came to depart for bed Osferth was sick outside and you were unsteady on your feet, so much so that you had linked arms with Finan while he sang some merry tune. Sihtric could not deny the fiery jealousy that was burning in his stomach as he watched you walk ahead.

He watched you throw your head back in laughter as the Irish man spun you around, “I’m going to slip,” you giggled and the sound was devastating to Sihtric, he would never make you laugh like that, and you would never allow yourself to be this carefree around him. Forever, you would be guarded and wary of him. That was the real curse.

He huffed and stormed past you both, refusing a glance at you both and you scoffed “What’s up his arse?”

“Can’t you tell?” Finan laughed “He’s soft on you and in all fairness I’ve been hogging you all night.”

It was like you were sober in that instant. Sihtric was developing feelings for you and you had sworn to hate him forever.

You couldn’t sleep, and you certainly couldn’t stay, so you made up your mind to leave at first light. You would gather enough provisions to make it on your own. Your heart was sad because you had grown accustomed to the company, to Sihtric in particular. His reassuring touches, his gentleness and the way his eyes seemed to always be on your. Those eyes. “Curse those eyes,” you spat but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to mean it.

At first light you began to pack your things together and startled when a gentle knock on your door pulled your focus away from the task.

You opened it fully surprised to see Sihtric standing sheepishly outside.

“We’ve been tasked with escorting the Lady Aelswith safely on her way to Bedwyn- Are you going somewhere?” he asked eyes frantically inspecting the items on your bed.

“I’m leaving, yes.” you answered defiantly.

“Leaving?” he rushed “But where will you go? Why are you leaving? I am sworn to you. We should stay together, no?”

“You are sworn to Lord Uhtred, you go wherever he commands,” you quipped.

“No. No!” he huffed stepping foot into your room before you come stop him, “You can’t leave, where will you go? Back on the road? I won’t allow it!”

“You won’t allow it?” you scoffed “And what on earth makes you think you have any say in what I do or where I go?”

“I have sworn myself to you, on Thor, until you release me, or have you forgotten? Your safety is everything to me. All I have done is try to keep you safe. Can you not see that?”

“If your concern is your oath I release you, there you are free from your bond and I am free to take leave of you,” you turned on your heel and began hastily pushing things into your travel bag.

“You would dismiss me so easily?” Sihtric sounded crestfallen, his mind was scrambling a thousand miles a minute trying to comprehend what was happening and trying to find something, anything to say to make you stay.

“Sihtric, I’m not entirely sure what you think we are to each other. Did you think us friends? Lovers? I never agreed to either of those.”

“So what if I did love you, y/n is that so terrible? I have tried in so many ways to show you that I am not the man you thought I was. But you are intent on hating me forever aren’t you? It’s hopeless, I will always be the heathen who plundered your village to you. Nothing more.”

Your heart was pounding in your ears because it was quite the opposite, you could not hate him.

“It is hopeless,” you repeated, “And you should not be prevailed upon to look at someone you love, who does not love you back every day.”

“Could you,” he looked down at his feet, unable to meet your eyes, “Could you not love me, some day?”

You wanted to burst into tears right there and then, throw yourself into his arms and tell him you loved him already, Sihtric could see your resolve melting and it was enough to spur him on, he took your hand in his and squeezed it three times. You had long suspected he did it to reassure himself more than you and this moment confirmed it.

“Sihtric, how could we ever be?” you cried “Look at how we began. I can’t look into your eyes and promise you that I will never not harbour resentment for what I went through at the hands of your men.”

“And I can never make that up to you, even though I would give my life to do it,” he replied. You sniffled and allowed him to pull you to him as he embraced you tightly.

“Let me go Sihtric,” you mumbled against his skin, “Let me go as I have released you,” he nodded slowly and when you broke apart you noticed there were tears in his eyes.

“I lift my curse,” you nodded, tears falling from your own eyes“Go forward and know that I wish you no more ill.”

Sihtric looked into your eyes for what felt like hours, before finally with a firm nod he departed your room and you briefly considered running after him before making your mind up resolutely to let him go, for his own good.

And so you departed Aegelesburgh before Uhtred’s band had even gathered their belongings to leave.

After you had been walking for hours, you came across a band of Danes, careful to jump off the road and remain among the trees but it was unmistakable, a hoard of Danes were making their way along the road you had just traveled and it did not sit right in your stomach.

“How much further to Winchester?” one of them complained and your stomach dropped.

Uhtred and Sihtric were going to walk right into this trap and without even thinking your actions through you took to running back in the direction you came from, you were hoping against hope you could intercede them and warn them before the Danes got to them. Your heart racing in your mouth with each step, if something happened to Sihtric and you never got to tell him how you felt you would never forgive yourself.

You had lost track of the Danes along the road, but you no longer heard them and that worried you immensely. Still you ran as fast as your legs would allow you. Until you came to the remains of what would have been a camp for the night and you carefully made your way among the trees, you had to cover your mouth with your own hand to stop yourself screaming at the sight in front of you, hanging upside down from a tree was Uhtred, Finan, Osferth, Father Pyrlig and Sihtric. You had to fight the urge to be sick, but they were guarded by two Danes you did not have a hope of defeating alone, so you needed to act quickly, it didn’t help that you could visibly see Sihtric was not doing well and he was in trouble.

Everyone startled at the bloodcurdling scream they heard from within the forest, and when it was followed by another more pained, one of the Danes went to inspect.

You made quick work of him with your dagger, stabbing furiously until you were sure he was dead and then you stole his ax, and silently crept back up to the camp, avoiding the second Dane who ran into the woods calling his friends name.

“Y/n, quickly, go to Sihtric!” Uhtred urged in surprise and you made quick work of the binds tying his hands together, trying your best not to panic as his arms hung limp beside his head, and then you swung wildly at the rope tying his feet, grunting under the strain as Finan shouted words of encouragement, as he fell you grapsed his face in your hands “You’re alright, you’re alright,” you assured but Uhtred shouted for you to release Pyrlig and so you sprung into action while Sihtric attempted to regain composure.

As you were working on Pyrlig, the second Dane returned and you watched Sihtric grapple with him and when you finally released Pyrlig the two of them took him down, Sihtric stabbing wildly until he Dane finally fell.

You made quick work of Osferth, Finan and finally Uhtred.

When all were finally free you ran to Sihtric graping him into your embrace.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry,” you kept repeating while he placed kisses to your head and face, anywhere his lips could land. “It’s alright, I’m alright,” he repeated in between kisses.

But you did not have time to revel in the moment as Uhtred had commanded you all to run, the Danes had Stiorra and you were going to make the journey on foot to Winchester, and so you found yourself hand clasped in Sihtric’s once more running through fields in an attempt to keep up.

Not stopping once until you reached Winchester, but Sihtric never once let go of your hand.

When you volunteered yourself to go in disguise to check on the captives, Sihtric wanted to be sick. If the Danes in Winchester were preparing for a siege you were going to be stuck inside but you were certain on your path.

And you surprised even yourself with the gumption you had found, as the guards cleared you to enter the city.

But it did not take long before you found yourself in Haeston’s hands as you had tried to enter the castle using Eardwulf’s execution as a distraction. The moment he grasped you, you knew you were in trouble.

“What do you want with me?” you cried as he dragged you across the courtyard but you already knew what he wanted, as he pulled you up to the loft of a building and you prayed that you would have no need to use your dagger on him, because you would in a heartbeat.

Thirty days passed under Haeston's control with the city under siege. He tried each night to lay with you for the first two weeks but each night you rebuked him with warnings of gouging out his eyes whilst he slept. He brought you morsels of whatever food he could find and as you weakened, he relished in your lack of strength. He was the worse kind of predator, the one who strikes only when the prey is too weak to defend itself, but you would not allow yourself to become his prey.

But when he frantically came up to grab you, telling you the battle had come, that he did not want to face it, your heart hammered excitedly at the prospect of seeing Sihtric again.

He pulled you along until you finally found your strength lashing out at him until he relented and released you.

“Stay here and you will die,” he spat and you stood fast.

“Die then ungrateful bitch,” he shot before turning his back and fleeing.

You ended up in the midst of the fighting, with only your dagger for protection, but in the chaos you fell and were being trampled on, worsened when both sides shouted for a shield wall. It was Finan who had heard your groans of pain, breaking the shield wall in order to pick you up and carry you to safety.

As soon as the negotiations began Sihtric was by your side, mismatched eyes searching every part of your body for injury.

“My love,” he cried “Oh my love,”

“Sihtric,” you mumbled, allowing him to pull you to him, you hand flew up to trace the scar on his face and you ran your thumb across his lips “Your eyes that I have cursed a thousand times were the only thing that kept me going. Each night I would dream about your eyes and I would find the strength to endure. I was wrong to tell you I could not love you Sihtric, you are the only man I could ever love,” you cried and he shushed you, gently bringing his lips down to meet yours and you whimpered at his gentleness.

That night you stayed with Sihtric. He tended to your wounds with delicate hands and shaking fingers. He was afraid that you were going to disappear at any moment, but he stilled all actions when he felt you begin to cry in his arms.

“My love? Did I hurt you?” he almost shrieked and you shook your head vehemently.

“I was so wrong about you, Sihtric. I feel I’ve been cruel. I shouldn’t have tried to dismiss your feelings back in Aegelesburgh.”

“None of that matters,” Sihtric shushed you, cupping your face in his rough, tattooed hands “What matters is you know how I feel about you, and you know that I am yours for as long as you want me.”

“I want you forever,” you cried, placing your own hands over his, and turning your face to press your lips to the palm of his right hand.

He was gentle laying you down on the bed, pressing sweet wet kisses to every inch of skin that became exposed to him as he undressed you, and you eagerly pulled his clothes until they too were a discarded mess on the floor.

Sihtric’s groans were delicious in your ear and the gentle pace he set, had you gasping for air as he teased you.

“I’ve changed my mind,” you panted and Sihtric’s mismatched eyes, flashed to yours in worry “I reinstate my curse on your eyes,”

“Oh yeah?” Sihtric laughed rolling his hips with a flick that had you gasping.

“I curse them to only love me for all your life,” you grinned, trailing your hands along the sides of his torso.

“In that case I am happy to be cursed love,” he grinned, picking up speed and not relenting until you came apart in his hands, finally reaching his own high as he bit down on your shoulder.

“I will love you from here to Valhalla," he panted "And cursed eyes don't lie,” he chuckled before collapsing down beside you.

Tagging: @canyonmoon-2 @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @shamrockqueen @thenameswinter99 @foxyanon @acdassenza @thatawkwardlittlefangirl

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtricsmut #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic #volklana writes

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