♛ Princess Treatment: Loki x reader. [🐰☁️] press here!
𓆙TLC: Loki x reader. [☁️] press here!
Works in Progress:
ꔫ L'autunno [🌬️/☁️/🐰]: Ch: 6, Ch: 7.
You -a summer court orphan that loves to dance & has a burning hatred for the royal Autumn family- have piqued the oldest Vanserra son's interest, just in time to assist him in an important task benefitting the court- performing for the Autumn Equinox!
✶ Harlequin girls: modern au!Lucien x reader [🌬️/🐰]: one-shot.
"Is it still me who makes you sweat, am I who you think about in bed?" A question Lucien asks himself, reflecting on a messy break-up with reader.
synopsis ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ nanami accidentally finds your small, anxious-but-sincere vlogs and quietly falls for you through the screen. and when you meet, he becomes a gentle, faceless presence behind the camera—helping you grow, and loving you all the while.
tori’s notes ᝰ.ᐟ this was so fun to write
nanami doesn’t really use youtube. it’s too loud, too cluttered, too full of people trying too hard. he’s more of a quiet reader or podcast listener—he likes his content slow and thoughtful. but sometimes, during quiet lunch breaks or sleepless nights, he finds himself scrolling, searching for something simple to fill the silence.
the first time he sees your face, he skips the video. it’s nothing personal. the thumbnail just seems… ordinary. a soft smile, a blurry background of what looks like a street food stall, and a simple title: “trying something new today (๑•́‿•̀๑)”. he doesn’t think much of it.
but youtube, in all its persistence, keeps putting you in his recommendations.
every few days, your face reappears. new title. new blurry background. another small smile. there’s something oddly comforting about it, even if he hasn’t clicked yet. eventually, curiosity wins. one night, half-asleep and curled up on his couch, he taps on a thumbnail without thinking.
the video is quiet. not silent, but there’s no obnoxious background music or jump cuts. just you. talking a little nervously to the camera, explaining how you’ve never tried this kind of food before, how it makes you anxious to eat alone in public but you’re doing it anyway, for yourself. you pause a lot. laugh at yourself. your editing is minimal—sometimes you just leave long clips in where you sit there silently, debating the next bite.
and nanami… stays.
he doesn’t mean to. he thinks he’ll just let the video play in the background while he dozes off. but he finds himself watching. then clicking on another one. and another. you talk to the camera like it’s a friend. you say things like “i know no one’s really watching this, but…” and “this was scary for me, but i’m proud of myself anyway.”
there’s no performance. no show. just you, trying. trying to live a little braver. trying to make the world a little softer for yourself. and even though your videos have only a few thousand views at most, and a comment section with maybe ten or twenty kind words, nanami can tell you read every single one. you reply with gratitude and sincerity. you sign your replies with hearts and “thank you for watching!!” even when someone just says “nice vid :)”.
he doesn’t comment for a long time. he watches quietly, always late at night, a silent companion to your small adventures. his favorite video becomes one where you try to bike through a park trail you’ve never been on before. the camera shakes the entire time, the sky is gray, and you end up getting rained on halfway through. soaked and breathless, you laugh and say, “this was a disaster. but i don’t regret it.” and something about that sticks in his chest.
he comments on a video one day. it’s short, awkwardly formal:
“i admire your courage to keep stepping outside your comfort zone. thank you for sharing.”
a few hours later, you reply.
“thank you so much!!! i get really nervous about posting sometimes so this means a lot ;; i’m trying my best!! ♡”
nanami reads that reply more times than he’d like to admit.
—
he doesn’t think he’ll ever meet you. you feel like a little glowing orb in his private world. something precious that lives on his phone, just a click away, not real, not tangible.
but then, he’s at a weekend market. the kind of place you’d probably vlog, actually. he’s just there to buy fresh bread, enjoy the quiet, maybe grab a coffee. he’s walking past a stand selling handmade keychains when he hears a familiar voice.
soft. a little unsure. asking for the price of something.
he turns.
and you’re there.
you look just like your videos—maybe a little shorter, bundled in a cardigan despite the warmth, your bag too big for your frame, holding a small camera that’s not even recording. your hair’s a little messy. your eyes bright, darting around nervously. you’re alone.
and suddenly, nanami is nervous in a way he hasn’t been in years.
he debates not saying anything. he could let this pass. keep you as a digital secret. but then you glance in his direction, and smile—just polite, a brief flicker of recognition for another passerby—and nanami finds himself stepping forward before his brain catches up.
“…excuse me,” he says, and your eyes widen a little.
“yes?” you ask, voice soft.
“i’ve… watched your videos,” he says, and you freeze for a second. “they mean a lot to me.”
you blink. your mouth opens a little in surprise, then closes. and then you smile.
“really?” you say, a little breathless. “you… you actually watch them?”
“yes,” he says simply. “i think you’re brave.”
your hand flies up to your mouth, eyes darting away. “oh my god,” you mumble. “that’s—thank you. that’s so nice. i didn’t think anyone recognized me. my channel’s tiny.”
“doesn’t change the impact,” he says, and it’s honest. the way he always is.
you talk for a while after that. awkwardly at first—your nerves, his reserved nature—but slowly, something soft and lovely builds in the air between you. you laugh a lot, mostly just nervous. he listens a lot, mostly because that’s just the way he is. he tells you his name is kento. you tell him you were scared to even leave the house today, but you’re glad you did. he smiles.
before you part ways, you ask, very shyly, if he’d be okay with you filming just a little. not his face, of course—just his voice, his presence. he agrees.
that night, a new video goes up.
“a tiny adventure at the weekend market ✿ i made a new friend today…”
nanami watches it from his bed, and when his offscreen voice appears—gentle, amused, offering to carry your bag for you—his heart does something strange in his chest.
—
the first time nanami appears in a vlog, it’s his hand passing you a coffee.
you call him “a friend i made recently,” and giggle when he corrects your pronunciation of a pastry. he’s never shown — not fully. a shoulder here. the back of his head. your viewers are very curious. you just smile, almost bashful, and say, “he’s camera-shy, but he’s very sweet.”
you start mentioning him more in your vlogs. he’s still off-screen, but you’ll glance his way and smile. say something like “he helped me set this up,” or “he picked this place,” or just “he’s here with me.”
you don’t have to say his name. he stays a faceless figure in your videos. your viewers start to notice something more.
you never confirm anything. you just smile, cheeks pink, and say, “he’s really sweet. i’m lucky.”
nanami doesn’t need the spotlight. he’s happy to carry your bag, offer a steady hand when you’re nervous, and hold the camera when you want to capture something new. he’s happy to be the one encouraging you behind the scenes, whispering that you’re doing great when you doubt yourself.
you film together more and more. he goes with you to bookstores, little food stalls, quiet museums. he carries your tripod. holds your coat. gives you gentle encouragement when you freeze up in public and smile too hard when it’s over.
he falls in love with you quietly. over time. he doesn’t say it at first. he lets it bloom through little gestures — buying the tea you liked, learning how to edit videos just to help you with cuts, leaving voice notes when you’re too anxious to leave the house. he listens. he supports. he stays.
and he’s happiest when, in a quiet clip near the end of a video, you look off-camera and say, “i think i’m a little less scared of the world lately.”
he squeezes your hand off-screen. you smile at the touch.
and your viewers never hear the softest part—how, when the camera stops recording, you lean into his side and whisper, “thank you for finding me.”
nanami, who never believed in fate or chance or algorithms, just kisses your cheek and replies, “thank you for being found.”
"Dumb conversations, we lose track of time. Have I told you lately, I’m grateful you’re mine?"
- Nothing; Bruno Major.
-> Pairing: Avenger!Loki x gender neutral!reader
-> CW: Loki is in the Avengers in this one!! Slightly different timeline: if Loki decided to stay on Earth w/Thor after the Battle of New York & become an Avenger (look… just go w it.) x gender neutral (they/them/yours/) reader!
-> TW: none!! Just tooth-rotting fluff, as reader chills out to cuddle w/ everyone's favourite God of Mischief. lots of unconditional love for one (1) Loki Laufeyson <3
W/C: 1424
╰┈➤ Lex's note: DEAR JAYNIEBLOSSOM, MY SWEET, SWEET READER... i am so sincerely sorry that you had to wait two months for this!! i'm so ashamed for making everyone wait/gen. written from this req by @jaynieblossom-or-rosieposie !! i hope i did him justice for you!! i hope we all enjoy some fluffy cuddles w/ our dearest Loki. as always, thanks for requesting & reading!! <3
“On your left!”
Like a knee-jerk reaction, Loki’s dagger was hurled, and Sam swore into the comm that crackled in the God’s ear as his metal wings made a screeching noise, grinding against the blade.
“Nice one, reindeer games. Forget what side you’re on?”
Stark’s grating, arrogant drawl made his dark eyebrows pinch together, his glacier eyes narrowing beneath his helmet as he grit out an apology. Be kind, he thought, they’re your team now.
Regrettably.
The others filled the comms with their voices as they gave Stark and Rogers their intel and their positions, and the dynamic team of Avengers managed to make the mission a no-casualties success, except for maybe Loki’s mood. Loki panted, sweat drenching his lower back, making his tunic cling to his abdomen more than usual. He thought about what you’d say if you saw the view, and he tried to let a kindling warmth stir in his core, only for it to feel like he had been doused with freezing cold water. The swirling voices of Stark’s childish arrogance, Sam’s disapproving looks, even Maximoff’s sympathetic smile as she tried to offer consolidation- ”You weren’t that bad! When I first started with the Avengers, I was clumsy and disoriented too. Just think of yourself like a baby deer learning to stand!”
It made him grit his teeth.
Stand? Why, he could do more than that. He was a Prince of Asgard, a King of Chaos, the God of Mischief for crying out loud.
Curtly, he dismissed the Scarlet Witch’s kind attempt to make him feel better, and Sam rolled his eyes while Tony assessed his wing, “Don’t get too pouty, prince. I’m sure big brother can help you learn the difference between teammate and target.” His mocking smirk made Loki want to ruin the pearly whites he mocked him with, when there was a warm caress around his wrist. A little thread bracelet of gold, black and green you had made him, with one in your own favourite colours to match. He had enchanted them, so a simple touch would be felt for the other bracelet wearer, and Loki immediately craved home.
You were cosy on the couch, in a hoodie that smelt like him, though he had made it clear he wouldn’t stoop so low to wear such mortal rags in public, but you were content with this. You had scrolled on your phone, watching cute compilation videos of little animals, and success stories, and family reunions. It had gotten you warm and teary eyed, but you had put your phone down as soon as the door to your room swung open, “Hey you… I was just thinking about- oh!”
His face was buried in your chest before you could properly process his non-verbal behaviours, and immediately you began to scratch his scalp tenderly, playing with his soft raven hair, “Mission didn’t go well?” A muffled grumble was your answer, before he shook his head against your chest. He wasn’t needy, looking at you with a wolfish smirk and hungry eyes, like he usually would, and your lips tilted down into a frown, “Why, my love?”
There was considerable silence, before you quirk your lips to the side in thought. You were ready to make silly guesses, but something in the air shifted, and you could tell this was serious.
“I don’t think I’m a good fit for the Avengers as a whole.” He started, sitting up suddenly, staring at the ground with his elbows on his knees. His hands were clasped together, slender fingers twisting at the jewellery to adorn his hands, “I don’t have any purpose. I go on these foolish, wasteful mundane missions and do nothing useful- my powers are fizzling out, all because I’m some washed up God now, though I still don’t do right on missions-”
“Hey!” You finally made a successful interjection, sitting up and pulling him into a hug, “Where did this come from, Loki? How could you say these things about yourself?” Your voice was soft, not to baby him or condescend, but to provide a safe place for him to be… vulnerable. As if he had caught on, he tried to look away with a mean scowl, though it was not directed at you as he answered, “It’s not easy to stick to the path of redemption with a creature like Tony Stark reminding you each moment of what atrocities you need to repent, and how much of a monster you are.”
Your face softened into a sad frown, and you hugged him tight again, kissing his temple, “You don’t really believe all that crap, right?”
“How couldn’t I? He makes such convincing points.” His sarcasm was unnecessary, but you knew better than to comment on it while he was like this. Instead, you gently coaxed him to lie with his head on your chest, the two of you sprawled comfortably on the couch with legs intertwined. You grabbed your phone to open it up to something, but before you did, you kissed his head again.
“You know you’re doing so good, right?” Your voice was the warm ray of sun he needed to defrost his sweeter mood, and he felt the foundations of his scowl begin to crack and melt already.
“Lies.” He grumbled, but your refusal was adamant,
“You are. I am so incredibly proud of you, Loki. And truly, if I thought there was… something wrong, if I thought you didn’t care at all about making up for what you’ve done, if I truly thought you were some low-life, irredeemable monster-”
“Okay, I think I get it-”
“Then I wouldn’t be with you! But I am, because I see how much this change of heart means to you. Every day, you do so well, even when you think the opposite, and it makes me feel so proud, so fulfilled to see you give yourself a chance.” You had cupped his face at this point, kissing his head, then the tip of his nose, then his lips in an affectionate peck. He returned for a sweeter kiss, before you pulled up a thread of something you had saved for your own bad days, and immediately he was intrigued.
“Animals?”
“Baby animals! Look! A little baby bunny, and a puppy, and ducks!” You cooed, your eyes pooling with adoration as you absorbed the contents of the tiny screen. Loki still thought you were one of the strangest mortals he had ever met, but that only reinforced his love for you as he watched you swipe and scroll through, before he scowled at the baby deer and extended a finger to personally remove it from his screen. You didn’t question it, letting him look around on your phone, until he saw little snakes with flower hates, wearing tiny scarves or jumpers, curled up in funny little spots.
“See? It’s you! My handsome little snake prince.” You hummed, kissing his head while his eyes were fixated on the screen, scrolling at his own pace.
“You know, I’d love you if you got turned into an animal by an evil witch.” You curled your lips in a thoughtful pout, which he met with his own in a gentle peck, before raising his eyebrows at you. “Oh?” He hummed half-distractedly, eyes drooping as your nails scraped against his scalp in the way he liked, right at the nape of his neck. You felt him sag more into your body, half-blanketing you, half-trapping you in the couch.
“MMhm! Whether it’s a snake, a puppy, even a worm- I’d love you no matter what form you entered my life in.”
“Thank you, darling… That is kind… Very kind.” His voice trailed off slowly as he cuddled into you, and you kept kissing his head whilst you told him sweet things. At one point, you had fallen asleep too, to which he poked an eye open lazily and murmured, “I’d love you if you were a worm too.”
He lay in your arms, his mind quiet despite the emotionally charged day, despite what he was thinking before he saw you. As he lay here, with your arms wrapped securely around him, hands tangled comfortably in his hair, he couldn’t help a small smile as he looked up at you with pure, wholesome adoration. As long as he had you, he was sure that he was doing good in the world.
Especially when he got to see you smile, or laugh, or do any other simple motion that could fuel his lifespan and fill him with strength.
╰┈➤ Lex's note 2: hopefully i return to a semi-consistent posting schedule!!
Tonight we are super pumped to be highlighting @lexluvswriting!!!
They are the author of L'autunno, an xReader fic inspired by Vivaldi's Four Seasons Concerto album!
🩰 If you love fics about dancing, this is PERFECT for you, not to mention it possesses the perfect combination of angst, fluff and 😏
Please give this a read (and listen to the music while you do!) 🎻
Look under the cut to learn about the creation of L'autunno, Lex's dreams for future Eris content, and where Eris goes to vacation! 🏝️
How did you come up with the idea of a Ballerina reader for ꔫ L'autunno?
Coming up with L'autunno was really easy!! I was just listening to my classical music playlist (yes, i'm that person w 30 playlists I fear) and then Vivaldi's L'autunno Allegro came on. Looking at the title, I immediately thought of Eris and Nesta's waltz and wondered what type of music he would like- would the Autumn Court value their creative/performing arts as much as Velaris? (basically L'autunno is one big headcannon that went out of control, but I'm falling in love with writing it so I can't stop, I fear.) As for the ballerina, I've always wanted to be a dancer myself (nothing ever came to fruition) so I decided to let reader dance bc we all deserve to feel beautiful!!
What's something you want to see eris say or do in future books?
In future books? I want Eris to reunite with Lucien! I want the Vanserras to stick together, bc I know damn well that LOA did not suffer all of this abuse for her children to not get along!! (keeping in mind, i am aware of the traditions in the Autumn Court but surely we can start breaking cycles or smth!!) perhaps this is asking too much but SJM, can we PLEASE have some LOA + Eris wholesome moments please please pLEASE can one of your characters have a good relationship w their parents in ACOTAR 🫶🏼
What ballet do you think Eris loves watching the most?
OMG I love this- I referred to it slightly in the earlier chapters of L'autunno but I think Eris would love Swan Lake because of his mother!! whatever version it is, I think he'd love them all (I associate a lot of pieces in Swan Lake with Eris)
Where in Prythian do you think Eris likes to vacation and why?
I'd like to imagine that there is this MASSIVE lake in the Autumn Court that Eris has not a manor, but a humble little cottage at!! Eldest son, daddy issues, loves his Mama, you're gonna look me in the eye and tell me he DOESN'T have a place for just him that isnt unnecessarily glitzy and glamorous?? I'm thinking he makes himself a nice cuppa and goes fishing, or bird watching, and just exists (coming from an eldest child 🫶🏼)
Give us a name for one of his brothers
I'd like to think that one of his brothers is called Theon (idk why) like Theon Vanserra... or maybe Aiden/Aidan Vanserra (I think Aidan is associated with fire?¿) but that's just my brain lol!!
Give us a name for one of his dogs!
OMG. okay, I have a LIST AHAHAH (I'm normal about this I promise) Definitely think Bruno, or Cain, maybe Nox/Lennox idk. but um yeah!!
-> (CW): x fem!reader (she/her), slow-burn, rivals to lovers, tinkle of angst on occasion, fluff, non-specified identity Summer Court!reader, no specific time in storyline except it's after Amarantha.
-> (TW): um… you guys now like each other ig. KIDDING! romance, pining, Eris opens up a bit, and so do you!! and you both kinda chill and it’s really fluffy.
W/C: 4.4k
╰┈➤ Lex's note: um… hey… me again. i promise i'll sincerely apologising for neglecting you all, but pls accept this fat, juicy peace offering <3 i love a male who has to yearn! as i always say: “to earn the puss, you must yearn the puss” (i only thought of this now, at 12:02 a.m.)
Your eyes widened, a laugh of disbelief leaving your lips as you shook your head, stepping back from him- to prevent from shaking him or kissing him again, you weren’t entirely sure.
“No. No! Absolutely not- Have you not listened to a word I’ve said?”
“Of course I have, and I meant everything I said- and did.” He tried to meet your gaze as you stubbornly looked away, trying to gather your bearings from what the hells had just occurred. He let out a breath, stepping forward with his palms exposed in what looked to be a placating gesture.
“You, my dear, are a radical.”
Your brow raised,
“A revolutionary,” He tried again.
“I don’t think that’s what it-”
His hand grabbed your face easily, as if it fit like a missing piece in his hand, and squished your cheeks to stifle your flat reply,
“Just… Listen to me. Brains like yours cannot be wasted in some- some shoddy little apartment complex. People like you- People with your sense of courage,” He amended after a not-so-silent silent look from you, “Are exactly what I need for when I become High Lord.”
“Huh?” Your eyes bugged out of your head as you finally pulled his hand away from your mouth, too distracted by his sudden shift of thought to even think of walloping him. Since when did you sign up to some lordling’s political campaign?
“You’d be absolutely perfect to meet the High Lord. Granted, your bedside manners need a bit of work, but you could really stir him up-” Eris kept pushing the topic, and your mind raced.
“Eris! We- I… Alright, listen!” You held a hand up in case he wanted to interject, “Look, your strange, spontaneous agenda means nothing right now, not when you just- You just-” You gestured between you and him, and he rolled his eyes, as if you were the crazy one.
“Here we go.” He sighed, leaning against a nearby tree, watching you with a look that made you want to throttle him.
“Oh, ‘here I go’- You kissed me, Eris!”
“Darling, there are people dying-”
“With no warning?! No context?! Nothing!” And it was a damn good kiss too- weirdly enough.
“Yes, darling, I did. I don’t regret it currently, but I’m starting to think I should.” His tone was dry and amused, yet that same fire stayed in his eyes- like infant embers, waiting for more firewood. You faltered for a reply, before grabbing his arm and pulling him back to you as if he was some sort of doll.
“Hey!” Were you overreacting?! Were you just going insane? Yes, that must be it. Being with this absolute idiot must be making you lose your sanity- and you certainly told him as much. He simply snickered at your tangent, shaking his head.
“You almost had me beat, darling. I figured I’d find a way to settle the score.” The heir shrugged, making you growl softly as his trademark smugness surfaced again.
“No, Eris! It was strange! It was strange, and spontaneous and- You can’t just do that!” You argued, making the Vanserra male shake his head as he grabbed your face again with two hands to cup, looking into your eyes with a look that you swore held fondness amongst the blatant amusement.
“See what I mean? You work yourself up. You’re hardly a swan- more a headless chicken.” He mused, making you pause, looking up at him as you tried to decide whether to kiss him again or smack him- hard.
“Stop avoiding the subject-” You opted to grab his wrist, removing his grip on you, but keeping him close in case you changed your mind on not smacking him.
“First of all: I am meeting your father at the Equinox ball solely because you invited me to perform. End of discussion.” You affirmed, and Eris sighed in mock defeat, waving a hand dismissively.
“Next: are we going to talk about how you completely blacked out on me?”
At the mention of his flashback, he tensed slightly, jaw setting before shaking his head, wanting to pull away.
“It’s none of your concern.”
“None of my concern?” Your grip tightened around his hands stubbornly, “You looked unwell. Visibly. I couldn’t just ignore that-” You scolded like a worried parent almost, glaring up at him as you did so. He looked at you after you brought it up, his eyes narrowing slyly. Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“And why, little swan, did you feel the need to be so kind? I thought you were supposed to have a severe ‘distaste’ for me.” He pushed it back on you, making you groan. Why did he have to be so wily and infuriating?
“Because I- I… Well, I’m not a bloody monster.” You replied hotly, cheeks warming as you glared at him, taking a moment to recompose before you fixed him with a stern scowl, squeezing his hands to prompt his attention.
“Look- I agreed to accompany you, and do whatever is required for the Equinox, yes. But we aren’t lovers, or casual bedtime partners for you to just use-”
“I have enough of those already, my dear, but thank you for the offer.” He flashed a canine in a smug grin, proud of his stupid humour, before your snarl made it fall back into a still smug smirk instead. You stepped into his personal space, grabbing him by the collar of his fancy shirt and pulling him to your eye level,
“I’m being serious! I am not some sort of toy you can reach for whenever you feel vulnerable, Eris.”
You snapped, irritated at how badly that kiss had flustered you, rocking you off balance emotionally. His eyebrow raised at your assertion of the boundary, and he blinked slowly as if considering your blatant irritation, before his eyes trickled down to where your lips waited. Something must have flipped within when he kissed you, because you caught yourself wondering for a moment if he’d bridge the gap again.
Cauldron above, that kiss had practically ruined you.
That, or maybe, it was because you barely allowed yourself to get close to anyone beyond casual unions in the night, rendering you sorely touch-starved.
But you could not lie to yourself and deny that, in the moment, the way he held you- as if you were porcelain- the way his eyes softened- before kissing you so gently as if you were something sacred- hadn’t made you feel things you hadn’t felt in possibly ever.
“Get distracted, darling?” He caught the way you fell silent and hummed, before looking at the way you clutched the lapels of his jacket, reminding you that you were still holding onto him.
“You know, for someone so adamant on disliking me, you’re quite content to keep your hands on me.”
“Yes, because you were- you are- acting like a damned child! I’m trying to talk to you about something important and you keep interrupting, or finding ways to distract me.”
Eris sighed, tilting his head to either side as he stretched his neck lazily, before smirking down at you.
“What a charming little wife you’d make. Nag in the morning, nag at night... How endearing. I pity the male who falls victim to you.” He hummed, prompting a soft huff as you rolled your eyes again.
“Oh, go off and fuck yourself-”
“Only when you’re watching, swan.” He winked, before adjusting his jacket and shirt once you stepped back to create a safer distance again, and sighed as you did not indulge him in more fiery banter.
“Fine, fine. I’ll address your concerns, since I do enjoy helping my citizens.” He drawled, catching your hand before it whacked him and tutting. He looked at you, as if he was trying to figure out how to handle you, before deciding to twirl you around and dip you, soliciting a squeak as your body aimlessly bent to his will.
“Number one: I kissed you because I wanted to. Granted, perhaps I should have asked, but I’d rather not have you bite my head off,”
You could feel blood rush around your body as your cheeks heated, and you became painfully aware of the way he held your wrist gently, and his other hand which had planted itself comfortably against the small of your back,
“Number two: I… went ‘distant’, as you say, because I had a bitter memory of my father beating my mother the way he usually does, and I’ve realised it kills me a bit more each day I do not interfere. I mean, having the constant attention from everyone in the Court always being on you… having such high expectations placed? It’s utterly exhausting.” He huffed, as if he was talking about the weather, or the price of pumpkins at the markets. On the other hand, your eyes widened, your jaw dropped- bewildered by his casual delivery, but he shushed softly,
“Uh-uh, focus, darling,” He shook his auburn head, as if he didn’t want you to speak, “And number three: I am insisting on you meeting my father, because I-”
“Wait-”
“Because,” He tried again, “I do believe that, upon hearing of your unexpectedly high intelligence and combining that with your thorough contempt for him, it could mean that he will either get so offended at your criticisms and combust from the rage, or have a heart attack late in the night from stewing on your brazen audacity alone, which speeds up the process for me and makes my life easier.”
Your mind was convoluted with certain words of his that paralysed you with absolute shock- your eyes widening as you looked up at him with alarm, with shock- with concern.
“Hold on- I’m sorry-”
“Forgiven,”
“Did you just say the High Lord hits his wife?” A chill went through you as you asked it, already having your answer as he went rigid, eyes darkening for a split second, before he righted you on your own two feet with a scoff, adjusting his sleeves.
“Really? That was the part you paid attention to?”
“Eris?!” His only response to you was a sigh before he escorted you up the hill again.
--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---
You two returned to where your picnic had been, where there had been tea waiting, and talking.
A lot of talking.
Eris Vanserra, pompous prick and heir to the Autumn Court, had come clean with a lot of information you thought you’d never become privy to. Yet what bewildered you more was how horrible you felt about it. All of it, including your treatment of him. Your expression had never changed from the slightly stunned one, from the moment he started talking to the moment he finished explaining, and he snickered half-heartedly at your gaping face.
“Careful, darling. If you look at me like that, it might lead me to believe you care.” His smile was wry, yet his eyes watched you with a careful understanding, like he was worried you might keel over, or combust. Good. He should worry. It was certainly a lot to take in, listening to him explain how brutal it had all been living with such a monster, how it had structured his relationship with his many other brothers, how he watched his own mother lose her light. You made the mistake of picturing a young, chubbier-faced version of Eris, which made your insides squirm.
“Sorry-” You corrected your expression, forcing yourself out of your stupor as you looked anywhere else, not wanting to outright patronise him with pity or offend him with your mortification, “I’m just… processing.”
“Understandable. It is quite the tale.”
“Yes… it is.” You both fell into a contemplative silence, back at the top of the hill overlooking a myriad of fiery leaves that rolled throughout the forest. Finally, in a softer tone, you broke it first.
“I’m sorry.”
“For?”
You snorted in disbelief at his tone, which made his russet eyes flick to your face. It was a good question, you’d give him that. Certainly one you weren’t sure how to answer. But you figured he had earned himself a sliver of redemption, so you allowed your walls to shrink ever-so-slightly.
“Living through all of… that.”
He waved a hand, brushing you off with a huff, but you shook your head,
“No, no. I’m serious.” You pressed, glancing at him before looking out at the sky,
“Having that for a childhood… It’s... That’s a different kind of horrible. I mean, I told you about me-” You gestured to yourself, not noticing how attentively his eyes followed your hand, before focusing on your face.
“I can’t ever really imagine having parents, let alone parents who never truly… liked each other.” You tread carefully as you referred to his parents' situation, which he seemed to appreciate as he nodded for you to continue mentioning your own life.
“I mean, I guess my upbringing was a little less… turbulent than that, in a sense.” He nodded in amusement, before waving for you to continue, so you did.
“My earliest memories are… probably ‘little me’, being brought up in an orphanage where I was coined ‘the odd one’,” You elaborated, scoffing in bitter amusement at the deep memory, barely catching that his gaze softened slightly. You shook your head, not wanting to let his sympathy soften you- as if the last few hours hadn’t already.
“I mean, they weren’t wrong. Still aren’t.” You shrugged, yet he continued listening, sitting up slightly, “But I learnt to embrace what were supposed to be my ‘differences’. Figured it wasn’t fair that everyone else felt content in their appearance while I couldn’t love my own.”
He nodded at your words, and you looked back at him occasionally, feeling… appreciative at how he seemed to process every word while you told your own story, bare and raw and brutally honest, all for him to have. It felt a little intimidating, feeling how his gaze never left you for a moment, even as you looked away from him at times, but you grew accustomed very quickly. He was listening… listening to you.
“I suppose, what I’m attempting to say is that… as different as we are… I can understand some of it. The burden of carrying such memories… the-”
“The loneliness,” He murmured, and you raised an eyebrow, stopped mid-thought.
“The loneliness… of going through something you’re absolutely certain nobody else is going through.” He finished the thought for you, looking uncharacteristically docile when you glanced at him to make sure he wasn’t mocking you, before slowly nodding in agreement. Something in your stomach ached at the way he looked so small, sitting all quiet and contemplative. It almost unnerved you, really, having a conversation with him that didn’t include the haughty bravado he would usually put on, when he acted like the heir of the Autumn Court.
That’s how you’d define the change, you decided. And at the moment, you certainly preferred ‘Eris, a mother’s son’ to ‘Eris Vanserra, pompous prick and heir.’
“Yes… That.” Your mind was practically screaming, your heart racing in your chest. This… this newfound levelling ground- this… connection- it was too deep, too intimate- far too intimate for your liking. You weren’t sure why this made you more uncomfortable than when he was angry at you in the carriage, but your heart was absolutely restless in your chest. You cleared your throat, looking down at the cobblestone of the amphitheatre floor and tracing idle shapes with your fingertip as you decided to lighten the mood.
“I mean, that, and having to pretend like it doesn’t haunt you… putting on a brave face for all the people who scrutinise you from their shoddy little apartment complexes… I couldn’t possibly imagine.”
A ghost of a smile curled on your lips as you repeated his previous words, and he chuckled softly at it, which pulled a knowing smile from you.
“Ah, yes… Woe is me, having issues with my father in our luxurious Vanserra mansion with our many acres of land… What will I do with myself?”
He asked so miserably, playing perfectly into the role you set up for him, and for the second time that day, you rewarded him with your unrestrained laughter. At that sound, his face watched you with interest before you groaned softly. His eyebrow quirked up as he watched expectantly, seeing you shaking your head in a sardonic fashion before clicking your tongue,
“Damn it all…” Your palm hit the floor of the amphitheatre you’d be dancing on in a few days time as you spoke with faux disappointment,
“I can’t believe this is happening.”
“What?”
“A civil conversation with you! It’s making you seem relatable, almost- as if you have the potential to be likeable… or something stupid like that.”
He snorted as you finished- snorted, like you were actually funny- before shaking his head as he rewarded you with a clear laugh of his own. You ended up chuckling too, watching as his smile grew- admiring it- while he thought over your words, before you realised your eyes were on each other again.
“[Y/N]... I’d like to start over.” He declared, making you tilt your head curiously.
“Perhaps there is something wonderful- dare I suggest, a friendship- to come from this.” He extended his hand, one you found yourself taking with a broad, wry smile of your own.
“Friendship, huh?” You raised your brow, watching him amusedly, like you were pretending to think about it. What kind of friends kissed each other, or despised each other the way you two did?
“If that’s the case, then I should apologise for the horrible presumptions I have for you, and the raspberry I ruined your shoes with, the day we first officially spoke.” You reflected on the bitterly comical encounter, both of you grinning at the image it planted, and your chest seemed to tug as you saw his smile.
“Ah, yes. Well, I forgive you. Please- forgive me for the horrible notions I have allowed the newsletters to fill your head with. I’d like to show you that I’m not just a callous, conniving bastard.”
“You missed heartless, womanising and cunning too.”
“I’d argue my cunning makes me lovable. And it’s not really womanising if females offer themselves willingly to me.” That damned smile made your chest tug again- your heart was doing pirouettes of its own- and you rolled your eyes.
“Fine. I suppose I can try to be civil.”
“Cordial?” He suggested,
“Cordial.” You amended, and he nodded, satisfied with the correction.
“Perhaps we’ll also share a few kisses of our own on the night of the Ball- proper ones, I can assure you.”
“Don’t push your luck, lordling.” He laughed at that too, his voice smooth, warming; like a strong whiskey. It kept something of an endearing smile on your own face as you sighed contentedly.
“Now… about meeting your father for matters of a ‘political nature’…”
“Yes?” You sighed at his eager tone,
“Eris, I appreciate your confidence in me, but I… I can’t.” Your face fell as you shook your head, making him scoot closer to you. Immediately his mouth opened, ready to refute your claims, but you held up a hand that had him biting his tongue obediently- albeit impatiently- as you shook your head again.
“From what you’ve told me… your father is the lowest of lows. Mud in a puddle is more honourable than he is. What could I possibly bring to him? What could I possibly say- How could I possibly say it in a way that’s important enough- powerful enough- for him to even listen?”
You posed questions that made him hesitate- and rightly so- before he shook his head. He even grabbed your hand in his own, to reign in your focus and emphasise the seriousness he wielded as he looked at you. Also because he couldn’t help himself.
“For me to say these points, he would ignore it. To him, all I am is a puppet. Heir in his eyes is a means to an end. If I were to suddenly show a change of heart and advocate these things in the comfort of our manor, he would wave me off; he'd say I’m as flowery as my mother, and dismiss it. But you- For someone who is, as you point out to me, not of this Court… if you say something, it puts him in a predicament, [Y/N].”
His points did make sense, but you thought about your little apartment, the royalties you were barely living off, and your loving neighbours. It wasn’t like you had nothing to lose.
“Eris, if I offend him, he can erase me like that,” You snapped your finger, “I have a life here- as… conditional as it is. As far as I know, I was born here, dumped on a doorstep here, therefore I live here. I know nothing about the Summer Court- I have no friends, no family, nothing. Where could I go, should he want my head on a stick? My passions are dance, and music. Sure, I know how to read and write and put words together but I’m not a prolific politician. Who would take me in?”
Eris stilled at this, handsome face falling as his brows pinched together thoughtfully, before he waved a hand, not understanding the implications in depth,
“My brother has friends, as he calls them. Friends who could happily help you-”
“Eris! I’m not leaving my fucking home because your father can’t handle being told how shit of a Lord he is!” You scolded, pulling your hand away, but his face lit up, a fanged smile flashing as he clapped. You felt a pull in your chest as he smiled so brightly,
“There it is. That fire! That’s what Beron needs to see. That is what he needs to be exposed to.” He urged while you groaned softly, holding your head in your hands.
“You’re going to be the death of me.”
“We’re friends now, darling. My father will not touch you- not if he still wants his heir.”
You looked up at him, the expression on your face radiating ‘Bullshit’, yet you felt that strange pull yet again.
“So what? I get special treatment while your- while Beron’s men drag innocent people out of their homes in the dead of night still? No. That would make me no better than those who do nothing to help.” You shook your head stubbornly, sitting back as a servant came up to the Vanserra heir, murmuring something to him that made him sigh, before looking at you again.
“I wish you’d understand how brilliant your mind is, sweet swan.”
Your chest warmed at that, your heartstrings tying the endearment down, though your eyes drifted, unable to stay on him while your brain rattled at the cocktail of desperation and admiration his voice had spoken with.
“I know I’m brilliant, Eris,”
Didn’t hurt to hear from him, though.
“Just… let me get the Equinox over and done with, before you try to get me killed off.” You negotiated, hating how convincing he could be, and how you felt yourself beginning to bend as the idea lingered longer in your mind.
“That wasn’t a ‘no’, darling. Oh, don’t give me that look- I’ll relent.” He stood up, taking the hands you stuck out for him to pull you along, and you nodded in thanks- enjoying the way he managed to make you feel like a ragdoll when you had relaxed completely. You both began to walk back to the carriage that had awaited you, not even realising how much time you two had spent together until the sun began to set, and your mind buzzed at a content frequency while you walked side by side, you hugging yourself from the mild autumn chill that developed in the sun’s absence.
“Excited to dance with me?” He nudged slyly, his cheeky smile pulling a chuckle from you. You almost hated how easy it was to laugh with him now that you had come to understand him. Strange, how easily perceptions changed with a simple conversation. Of course, he still had his moments like now, making you push his face away gently as you both walked, only for his hand to catch your outstretched wrist and pull you back, his other arm encircling your waist as he looked down at you, your bodies pressed flush together.
“That wasn’t an answer, partner.” He mused, the mere name making your breathing stop. You were helpless as you looked up into his eyes again, lips parting only for nothing helpful to slip out. Your own eyes shuttered before you turned your head away, as if to reduce the intimacy like you two hadn’t kissed already, and you huffed softly,
“What, am I excited for you to waltz me around like some little lady?”
“I’ve been told my footwork is magical. So magical, that it even strips ladies of their garments.” He hummed, full of confidence; confidence that made your stomach flutter. Truthfully, in the comfort of your private mind, you allowed yourself to admit that you felt aroused at the idea of being in a situation with him where he could strip you of your undergarments. But you saved face- refusing to let him have too much confidence- shaking your head with an amused glimmer in your eyes, voice full of mirth,
“There’s no possible way that line has actually worked on someone before.” You uttered, before giggling lightly, and his eyes narrowed playfully. For a moment, you thought he’d kiss you again, and pull you into that carriage as if to prove you wrong, but he twirled you around instead, letting you go as if to let you dance independently, and you laughed as you spun freely. After a moment, you slowed to a stop, the skirts of your dress fanning out before falling back against you while you watched him, tilting your head slightly.
“You plan on twirling me around like that all night?”
The way he looked at you in that moment felt like a manifestation of the tension that had slowly begun to accumulate, all of it gathering up in his eyes as his gaze followed you,
“If you smile, and sound like that after each spin, then yes.”
The words caught you off guard. You knew Eris Vanserra was a heartthrob- a complete and utter flirt, who could charm the pants off a statue if he wanted- but this look was new. This look was different. Deeper than he let on. There was no sly smirk, no cocky attitude, no cheeky banter to lessen the tension that settled, and your heart… your stomach, your core seemed to squeeze as he beheld you. Your gaze softened, your smile falling slowly as you swallowed, eyelids fluttering before you nodded, advancing towards the carriage again, though your gaze never left him.
“Right.”
╰┈➤ Lex's note 2: friends... i am so sorry for being inactive for so long! it was an unexpected hiatus, i didn't do as well as i thought i would in my exams, i was severely burnt out and struggling with my adhd meds as well as a plethora of mental/other issues but i pinky swear i am back and ready to pump out fics!! i had a bit of writer's block with L'autunno but we are back in business, baby!! i have had loads of ideas that i wanna write n share with you all (across whatever fandoms i feel creative inspo for) but pls send requests bc they do actually motivate me to stay consistent! as always, pls let me know what you think, be it a dm, a reblog or a comment!! love always, Lex <3<3<3
content warning: “vague” descriptions of American colleges (iykyk), Winston [Earth-928/ Earth-TRN590] is here with a cool prosthetic arm (he originally has three! so I thought it would be cool to incorporate his robot arm back somehow), suggestive at parts so MINORS BEWARE (although you shouldn’t be looking at this series at all 😒), Miguel is the baby of his friend group, if the Spanish here is wrong please lmk!
word count: 3.8k, proofread so there should be no mistakes (something short and sweet!)
In case you missed it, you can find GR!Miguel’s full SFW + NSFW Alphabet here!
Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist
GymRat!Miguel who has become one with his room. The bed is comfortable, the AC is just right, and more importantly, he can hide here in solitude.
His parents decided to host Gabriel’s graduation party, Gabriel’s college acceptance party, and a Fourth of July party all at once. It was nonstop trips to Sam’s, Party City, and the grocery store.
Gabriel got a full ride to a prestigious art school up north and his parents were using every second of the summer to make time for him.
They didn’t do nearly as much for him when he graduated and got a full ride. Although, Miguel guesses the shiny Range Rover from Tyler parked outside was enough to soothe the old wounds trying to reopen. Plus, Gabriel really deserved it. The chances of getting in were low, but Miguel helped every step of the way and now a bright future in the Big Apple was calling his name.
Still, if his dad called him to cut the grass or season another pack of meat, he might lose it.
GymRat!Miguel who was glad to see you were still enjoying your summer. He was probably the first to watch your stories, like your pictures, and even comment on your little notes.
He hoped it came off as endearing and dedicated because sometimes he worried it was annoying and clingy. He couldn’t help it, though. You’re always on his mind nowadays.
Today you had posted clips of you and your friends at a Boba shop. He could hear your laughter as you zoomed in one of your friends fighting for their life after sucking up a boba ball.
He smiled to himself as he played the video a few more times just to hear you.
GymRat!Miguel who decides to play a Gacha game on his phone to distract his wandering mind.
There was a character he wanted and he wasn’t stopping until he got her.
GymRat!Miguel who three domains, a farming session, several 10-pulls, and a lucky spot later did not get the character he wanted. He was heartbroken, shattered, and inconsolable.
He groaned and flipped over to the wall, choosing a few colorful words to complain.
GymRat!Miguel who’s half-asleep state is interrupted by Gabriel doing their special knock and poking his head inside.
“Whatdoyouwant,” Miguel pushed his face further in his pillow in hopes that it would make him disappear.
“Broski, your friends are here,” Gabriel sang as if he were a white suburban mom with too much time on her hands. “And they bombarded my TikTok stream so if you could please retrieve them, that would be nice.”
Miguel poked his head up, “Are you rating people’s talents again?”
“Even better. I’m being an NPC and making bank!”
“Why don’t you ever play the saxophone or something?”
“Because that’s not what the people want me to do, Miguel. The people want to see me go ‘Lick a lil sum!’ over and over again. They eat it up.”
Miguel squinted at the bright light coming from the hallway, “In a pickle suit?”
Gabriel looked down as much as he could with his constricted movement, only his appendages sticking out of the holes, and looked back to Miguel with gritted teeth.
“If you would have put your Nightwing costume back on, I could have been Robin and we could have made money together. But it seems that you hate me.”
GymRat!Miguel who watches Tempest push the door open further and shuffle around a seething Gabriel.
“I still don’t know why you’re dressed like a Spongebob character,” she laughs at his green tights.
“I’m not Kevin! Stop saying that. There’s no glasses. There’s no crown. There’s no pants!”
Lyla poked her head around him.
“‘Lewser.’”
Gabriel yelled and turned around, waddling back to his room, “I’m not letting the Geek Squad bully me!”
“You say that like you’re not one of us!” Winston shouted after him, shells and beads in his hair clanking together.
“One of us, one of us, ONE OF US!” the trio started to chant at Miguel’s door.
Gabriel just let out incoherent noses until he was able to shut his door.
GymRat!Miguel who feels like hissing when Tempest opens his blinds.
“Please, no more!” he whined into the pillow.
“What’s with you two today? So snappy,” she mumbles.
Winston stood by the door with his hands on his hips, “Have you been in here all day?”
Miguel sits up, “No.”
“You look like it,” Lyla snickers, kicking a bag out of the way.
“We haven’t seen you in like, forever, and you’re acting like you don’t really care,” Tempest pulls up her long, ruffled skirt to plop on the bed next to Miguel. “Are you sick?”
“No.”
“Did someone die?” Winston pulls out Miguel’s gaming chair to take a seat.
“No.”
“Wait!” Lyla’s voice makes everyone jump. “You failed your class for the first time and now your life is ruined.”
“What? No, never.”
GymRat!Miguel who perks up at the sound of the text tone he picked just for you.
“Look!”
“I just found this picture of us”
“We’re working hard 🫡”
“I’m putting in overtime”
“There’s no PTO”
“Only work”
“We get paid in kisses”
“Only kisses?”
“Everything else is a bonus check for being the perfect employee”
"Aka my girlfriend"
“And what does that bonus check look like?”
“Hmmm”
“She looks divine”
“She tastes really sweet too”
“Inside and out”
“What does your bonus check look like?”
“He’s big and hot 😌”
“He looks really nice when I love on him”
“He feels really good”
“Be very lucky you’re not near me rn”
“What?”
“I’m just describing my elite employee!”
“Aka my bf”
“I feel really good?”
“Yeah!”
“You’re my teddy bear”
“….and you also feel good in other places that I won’t be spelling out”
GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t feel Tempest leaning over his shoulder until her voice snaps him back to reality.
“No fucking way you got a girlfriend and didn’t tell anybody.”
She snatches the phone from his hands.
“Temp, give it back!”
“And you’re getting freaky with her while we’re right here!”
“No, I’m not-”
“It says right here ‘she tastes really sweet, inside and out.’ It’s in 4K!” Tempest shoved the phone in Winston’s face who gets the derpiest smile.
“My man!” he reaches his hand out to Miguel to dap him up, ending it in the handshake that only the two of them know. “You finally got a girl and you putting in that work. Let’s. Fucking. Go.”
“At least someone is on my side.”
“I never said I wasn’t on your side. I’m just stuck on the fact that you didn’t tell anyone. No texts, no socials. Just tumbleweed in that big ass head of yours,” Tempest pushed a duck nail against Miguel’s temple. “Like you could have died, and we would have never known.”
“I’m sorry, Temp, it’s been a hectic year.”
“And now it’s summer. We’ve got nothing but time,” she grabbed a pillow to place in her lap. “So get to talking Migster.”
“Yeah, while I can understand waiting to tell us about your girl, this is like, what, the second strike for you? First, no yacht and now this? Aggy,” Winston shook his head.
“All three of you had plans! I checked!”
“And it’s looking like you’ve been with her for almost a year. Wow,” Lyla said from a bean bag on the floor.
Miguel reaches to snatch it from her, teeth gritted in a way that mimicked his brother.
“I never knew you could get so romantic! Maybe scratch the arcade idea off, though. You get way too competitive.”
Tempest hit Miguel with her pillow, “An entire year?”
“Cold-blooded. I should smack you next,” Winston struck his metal arm back like he was getting ready to swing.
Miguel held his hands up, “I’ll finally let you teach me how to play Halo!”
Winston sat back, “2k too, and all is forgiven.”
“Halo and one round of 2k.”
“Deal,” Winston shook Miguel’s hand. “You’ll be hooked once you get the hang of it.”
“God, I hope not,” Lyla mumbled.
“Says the one who yells at children on Roblox,” Winston bit back.
“You don’t hear what those heathens say, I do!”
GymRat!Miguel who is forced to make a short PowerPoint about his past year while his friends help Miguel’s parents set up even more.
“I want a Final-worthy presentation by the time we get back! I even showed you where to get the cute templates,” Tempest fusses from the door before she closes it.
GymRat!Miguel who calls you while they’re gone.
“I mean, if it were me who just found out that my closest friend told me essentially nothing about their partner for that long, I’d be pretty upset too.”
Miguel groans as he leans back in his chair, “That is pretty fucked, isn’t it?”
“But, because I was with you most of the school year, I know that you were just preoccupied with other things. Figuring out college, checking off a lot of adult firsts, making new friends, dealing with family, totally scrambling your way through getting your first girlfriend.”
“Hey…”
You laugh at his annoyed expression and snap a picture, “I’m sure if you just explain things to them, they’ll understand.”
“I hope so. I already promised Winston a game of 2k.”
You scrunched your nose in the cute way that Miguel adored, “I’ll take a gamer, nerdy boyfriend any day. Might draw the line at 2k, I fear.”
“My face doesn’t cancel out the bad connotation?”
“Depends. Will you cancel on me in place of playing with your friends?”
Miguel’s eyes looked to you on his laptop with a frown on his face, “Never. I don’t think I’d do that for anything that can be rescheduled. Did he do that?”
Miguel didn’t want to say his name because it left a bad taste in his mouth.
“More than I’d like to admit, yes.”
“If I ever see him, I might punch him.”
“Miguel.”
“I’m so serious. There hasn’t been one good quality about him yet.”
Only the fact that he was a good stepping stone to get to Miguel, not that he would ever say that out loud.
“He was…nice when I met him.”
“Just nice?”
“He had a cute face!”
Miguel’s frown deepened, “I don’t want to talk about him anymore, actually.”
GymRat!Miguel who finished his PowerPoint with the help of you.
Honestly, you just had to sit pretty in the corner of his monitor.
GymRat!Miguel who was ready to present once his friends got back, each of them sporting a Fanta in their hands.
“Nobody brought me one?”
Tempest made a noise of satisfaction when she took a sip, “A cold one is waiting for you when you finish, buddy.”
Miguel rolled his eyes and set up the PowerPoint.
GymRat!Miguel whose presentation is dragged even further because everyone keeps asking questions.
Section 1: New Experiences
“Only you would attract sorority girls despite the clear baby boy energy radiating off of you,” Tempest said.
“I mean, look at him,” Lyla gestured to Miguel’s body. “We still see our big baby, but that body? That’s what people notice first. We should have prepared him more.”
Miguel’s face fumed as he went to the next slide.
“And only you would make friends with the cafeteria lady. She saw the baby aura,” Tempest quipped.
“L-let’s just move on,” Miguel mumbled.
“You’re on the robotics team!! There’s our Miggy,” Lyla rounds her words like she was talking to a child.
“Guys, Miguel is going to be a tomato if you don’t stop,” Winston chides.
Section 2: Family
“I’ve been waiting on somebody to get that gremlin Kron and you finally got him,” Lyla shook her head with a chuckle.
“I’m sorry about your mom, though. She didn’t really like us too much either when we first started to hang out,” Tempest pulled her knees up to her chin.
“Mind you, I had a mean set of braces, suspenders, and high water pants when we first met,” Winston said.
“Oh my god. Remember when she thought Tempest was tricking Mig into doing her homework?”
“When all I was doing was comparing answers because Miguel was the only one who could keep up with me in that class,” Tempest snickered. “Glad me and Mrs. O’Hara moved past that because I was definitely looking out for you more than she was.”
“Remember when she thought you two were dating?” Winston asked.
Miguel groaned, “That was so fucking embarrassing.”
“You think now I read as a raging lesbian or what?”
Section 3: My Gorgeous Girlfriend Whom Which I Love
“The same guy who lectured me for 10 minutes over not jumping out of a car to hold the door for my girlfriend left his girl at a party?” Winston snickered.
Lyla played with the end of a braid in her hair, “Chivalry is dead.”
“Get all your jokes out now, because we’re going strong,” Miguel waved everyone off as he flipped to the next slide.
“Is that her?” Lyla sat up as much as she could in her sinking seat.
“Yeah,” Miguel’s smile grew at the picture of you from a coffee date on the screen.
“Look at him,” Winston pointed a finger. “He can’t even speak. He’s gone.”
“She’s hot! Nice job Miguel,” Tempest clapped with a giddy smile on her face. “You’re like, lovestruck over there.”
Miguel continued to flip through the several slides he had of you, face sinking further into his palm as he stared at you like he’s never seen you before.
“Does Xina know you have a girlfriend?”
“Woof,” Tempest and Winston said in a low voice simultaneously.
Miguel tilted his head with a confused expression, “What’s with the ‘woof’? Why are you all looking like that? And where is Xina, anyway?”
“She said her parents wanted her to go visit family, so she’s far, far away right now.”
“Did you know she’s transferring to your school?” Lyla asks.
“Why? I thought she was going to an Ivy League somewhere. It was all she talked about.”
Tempest’s eyebrows raised, “Can’t stay at an Ivy League if you fuck up your scholarship.”
"She told me that she didn't like it there," Winston looked confused.
Lyla and Tempest just stared at each other in disbelief.
“If you worked your ass off from starting a non-profit to being the school valedictorian, just to get into one school, would you just up and leave after one school year without finding better options?” Lyla deadpanned.
“Hey, we don’t know what happened. Maybe she really didn’t like it there, guys,” Miguel said.
Lyla and Tempest both gave Miguel twin looks as if telling him to get serious.
“Well, if she’s going to your school, I’m sure you’ll see her at some point. Maybe she’ll tell you,” Winston suggested.
“Yeah, Miguel. She’ll tell you anything if you ask,” Lyla folded her arms with a smile.
“What does that mean?”
“It just means,” Tempest waved her hands around. “She’s enamored by you.”
“Guys. Stop.”
“She’s not lying. Every time we hang out together, she’s always clinging to you,” Winston said.
“It’s been years and she’s never told me anything,” Miguel reached to exit the PowerPoint. What was about to be a 10 minute yap session about you was now turning into something else. “I doubt that if she felt that way, she still feels that way now.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Lyla shrugged.
Tempest nodded her head, “Good on you for being so optimistic.”
Miguel squinted his eyes, “You two are freaking me out.”
GymRat!Miguel who sat with his friend’s words once they dropped him off back home after an impromptu day of fun.
He really needed to get out of the house to reset, but he couldn’t help but to worry about Xina.
He was there when she worked herself to the bone just to even be considered for the top schools. When she got in, she was over the moon.
What could have possibly made her stop now?
GymRat!Miguel who wakes up to sound of his dad laughing and yelling outside of his window.
He dragged himself to the window to see him running around with his brothers with a nerf gun.
It would be a pretty funny sight if it wasn’t 7 in the morning.
GymRat!Miguel who goes through his morning routine of booting Gabriel up, taking his morning run, and eating a hefty breakfast.
He sends you a picture of himself right after he finished the run, sweat dripping down his neck and his skin glowing from the hot sun.
Knowing you were probably still asleep, he doesn’t expect a response until later. So when you call him immediately, he’s filled with surprise.
“Sending thirst traps at ass o’clock is crazy,” you say as soon as the call connects.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“So you just happened to take the perfect picture in the sun with your skin all wet?”
“Are you saying that I’m photogenic?”
You roll your eyes and Miguel laughs, happy to see you.
“Where are you going?” Miguel asks, noticing the fluffy headband you’re wearing that’s holding your hair back.
“We’re going to my aunts house and she lives about two hours away so I got up early to get ready.”
“Bebe, qué hermosa eres.” (Baby, how beautiful you are.)
You pause what you’re doing to turn and stuff your head into a plushie to scream.
“You can’t tell me that,” you say when look back to the camera, fanning your face. “I won’t stay focused.”
“But it’s true. You’re stunning.”
You groan and slide down your chair, “Miguel, please. I need to focus.”
“Ok, ok. You still look amazing.”
“Thank you,” you say, patting the back of your hands against your heated cheeks.
“I wanna kiss you.”
“I’m hanging up.”
Miguel laughs as you bring the phone to your face.
“I wanna kiss you, too,” you say before ending the call.
GymRat!Miguel who blows your phone up with teases after that.
It all shuts up once he sees your outfit of the day.
“You can’t do this to me”
“Baby????”
“This is agony”
GymRat!Miguel who is the loudest when Gabriel makes his grand entrance to the party, graduation cap snug on top of his curls. His family is popping mini confetti and string cannons while his little cousins blow bubbles.
GymRat!Miguel who catches Gabriel at any chance he was idle, snapping picture after picture like a proud parent.
GymRat!Miguel who stacks his plate high full of food to the shock of no one.
GymRat!Miguel who almost gets knocked down by Gabriel when he opens his gift of specialized sheet music. After years of hearing the songs Gabriel would blast through the house, he compiled together a music book with covers done by different artists.
"I'm going to play every single one of these for you," Gabriel says with a geeked-out smile.
"Oh boy."
GymRat!Miguel who watches Gabriel scream as their neighbor's dog runs towards the fireworks that he set on the ground.
Miguel always thought there was nothing going on behind those little eyes.
GymRat!Miguel who feels Gabriel slide next to him in the corner of their backyard. A place where the two of them used to do everything from hide-and-seek to sharing secrets to pretending to be superheroes.
Gabriel leans his on Miguel’s shoulder, eyes watching the small fireworks their cousins bought.
“Mig?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you ever get scared when you left home?”
Miguel was quiet for a second, “At first, I was. I was leaving what I knew, but once I got used to it, it was like a weight off my chest.”
The two sat for a minute, listening to their family sing and laugh.
“I’m really fucking nervous.”
“About leaving?”
“About everything,” Gabriel took a shaky breath. “I’ll be so far away. I won’t know anyone. And you…”
Miguel’s sleeve was wet.
“You won’t be there if I need you.”
Miguel turned and pull Gabriel into a hug, arms tight as he felt Gabriel cry into his shoulder.
“No tengas miedo, Gabri,” Miguel’s voice cracked as he rubbed his brother’s back. “I’ll be a call away, ok? Right there if you need me. I promise.” (Don’t be scared, Gabri.)
"Te voy a extrañar." (I'm going to miss you.)
"Yo también te voy a extrañar." (I'm going to miss you, too.)
After a while of the two calming down and making promises to continue their weekly calls, Gabriel leans up and covers his eyes with his arm.
“I told myself I’d save my tears for the move-in day, but it’s just now hitting me how much I’m going to miss seeing your stupid face.”
Miguel laughed and thumped him across the head, “And I’m going to miss hearing your stupid laugh across the hall. But what did you do when I left?”
Gabriel turned to avoid Miguel’s face, “Ma thought I was dying or something. She kept bringing random shit that I liked to my room for three weeks because ‘Te pareces a Ígor, mijo!’” (You look like Eeyore, mijo!)
Miguel bit his cheek as he ruffled Gabriel’s hair. He still saw the little baby who followed his every move. The baby that laughed hard when he read books with a funny voice. The baby that stood up for him front of their mom when he couldn’t even stand up for himself on the playground.
The kid who stayed up with him to beat some game because their dad wouldn't buy them memory cards for the PlayStation. The kid who tried food once he saw it on Miguel’s plate. The kid who refused to go to summer camps without him.
Here he was, sitting in front of Miguel, getting ready to start a new chapter.
“Oh god, Miguel don’t start crying again. It’s gonna ruin the tour,” Gabriel groaned and dug his head into his arms.
“I’m not, I’m not, I’m sorry,” Miguel hurriedly wiped his cheeks, hot tears filled with his thoughts escaping. “You’re going to kill it in New York. By the time I get there, you’ll be so used to it that it’ll be like breathing air.”
“I hope so,” he sniffles and looks back up. “I need to impress Dana.”
“And there he is,” Miguel shook his head. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to visit.”
“Yeah. I already have some places planned for dates.”
“Smooth. That’s the Miguel in you.”
“Shaddup.”
GymRat!Miguel who calls you closer to midnight.
"How was the party?"
"It was pretty good," Miguel moved to settle further into his bed. "Gabriel was happy."
Hearing the tone in his voice, you pouted, "Are you ok, though?"
"Yeah, I'm just. I'm feeling a lot."
He felt he might cry again, thinking about his little brother in a place all by himself, thinking of his parents being empty nesters, thinking of his feelings from yesterday.
"You want to talk about it?"
Miguel shook his head, "Tomorrow."
"Whenever you're ready, I'll be there."
"Thank you," Miguel smiled. "That means a lot."
GymRat!Miguel who feels better listening to you chatter until you fall asleep. His head isn't filled with so much noise and your voice is like a calm breeze.
He can't wait to see you again.
divider by: @thecutestgrotto 🩵
a/n: I was thinking of this video when I was writing Lyla talking about Kron + that smoking duck gif. I also doubt there are many nerds alive that play 2k, I just wanted Winston to play it lol. Anywho, I was going for a boho-chic vibe when I imagined Tempest (with red locs), a maximalist + art deco vibe with Lyla, and an elevated streetwear style with Winston. Winston also upgraded his prosthetic arm to mimic Link's from Tears of the Kingdom. As for Xina...we'll see! 😗
As always, like, comment, and reblog. Let me know how you feel! 🩵
If you want to be on the taglist, sign up here! Make sure to have your age in the bio or somewhere on your blog!
“Ain’t it like thunder under earth, the sound it makes? Ain’t it exciting you, the rumble where you lay?”
- NFWMB; Hozier.
-> Pairing: Loki x plus-size! princess! reader.
-> CW: 18+ CONTENT! NSFW! SMUT AHEAD! MINORS, DNI. fem! reader (she/her), fem genitalia used, plus-size reader, allusions to low self-confidence and harmful behaviours, mentions of fat shaming, princess reader au! Loki is a doting, loving, lowkey-obsessed partner who loves to see us shine! Breeding! DON’T be like these dummies, regardless of what timeline ur in. Wrap. Before. You. Tap.
-> TW: porn with slight plot; no use of y/n; soft-ish dom!Loki x sub!reader; unprotected p in v sex; oral sex (f receiving); face-sitting; praising (f receiving); body worship (f receiving); dirty talk; breeding (lol); mirror sex, mirror sex, mirror sex!
W/C: 4.8
╰┈➤ Lex's note: thanks to this anon’s req, you all have this!! firstly: i am so sorry for ghosting, and being super late in my fic posting!!! it wasn’t intentional at all 😔 (uni is hard & mental health takes a toll T-T). second: Loki! Likes! Thick! Girls! anyway- Hozier did inspire this, HOW DID YOU KNOW?? indeed, NOTHING fucks with Loki's baby. I hope i did this request justice AND i hope we all giggle & squeal at this beautiful God the way i did. TYSM ANON for requesting <3 <3
“I do not believe this to be a fair council if we are not considering the voices of the people.”
Your voice was clear as you stood to say your piece, smoothing one of the ruffles along the waistline of your dress as you did so. Your head was held high as you spoke, commanding the attention of all the others who were part of this monthly council- the royals from the territories surrounding Asgard would convene at certain locations routinely to discuss oncoming threats, or other diplomatic concerns as ‘equals’, with today’s meeting taking place in one of King Odin’s many conference chambers.
“Malekith’s constant threats put strain on our territories, yes, but also on our citizens. Pulling more tithe from our villages will not warrant greater victory- I believe that it will worsen the tensions that are already rising.” As you continued your advocacy, you glanced around to ensure you held each attendant’s attention, before your eyes settled on blue irises that twinkled with usual cunning charm. Your mouth was on auto-pilot- this speech rehearsed to the point where you mumbled it in your sleep at times- allowing you to focus on the beauty of the prince across the table. His eyes of blue, like Jotunheim ice, watched you with a fondness only you could recognise while he reclined in his chair, flipping his dagger as he listened to you. Each time you felt flustered, you’d look back to him, for his eyes to soften and his chin to dip in the smallest, softest of encouraging nods, flushing out your nerves and leaving a sensual warmth that started in your chest and leaked into your lower stomach. You could do this. You could do this, then retreat back to the comfort of your lover’s room and let him coddle you like he loved to do.
“As lovely as your attempts are, princess, we do not have time to shed wasteful tears over a few peasant bodies.” A dry, dismissive voice cut you off before you could conclude; the callousness in his mention of the ‘peasants’- including your own people- made your fists curl. An older man from a neighbouring kingdom waved his hand dismissively as he sat back in his chair, swirling his goblet lazily. He barely spared you a glance, shaking his head as he continued with a bored expression,
“We deploy soldiers to protect these peasants. What do they need to fear? They are expected to provide mass harvests, and we deploy mass protection. If they do not know how to serve their kingdoms, why should we prioritise the preservation of such useless people?”
Your breath stopped, eyes widening as you turned to him directly, yet you sensed Loki go deadly still in your peripheral, noticing the way he caught the dagger, blade facing up, holding it a little tighter as the lord spoke.
“Their families are starving enough as it is. They do not control the weather, nor the integrity of the soil! We cannot possibly place more expectations-”
“If they were worried about providing for their kingdoms, they would not be so reckless in their breeding, princess. If they were smarter, they’d sacrifice a few of those runts to gain more supplies. That, my dear, is why the rich stay rich, and the poor stay poor.” He droned on, the lord’s beady eyes finally looking at you, up and down slowly before his lip curled in a sneer,
“Perhaps their ‘starvation’ is simply a thinness they’ve earnt from working as hard as they have. Not that one might expect you to understand, princess.” The comment left a bitter taste in your mouth, making your throat tighten as the room suddenly went cold. You felt as if every pair of eyes watched you- scrutinising your rounder, curvier appearance compared to others. Granted, you weren’t the most ‘conforming’ to society’s beauty standards as far as princesses went within the nine realms, but you had believed your curvier body type was representative- beautiful- despite the criticisms. Yet the current whispers that swirled from around the room, the stares that your paranoia sucked in greedily, it made you want to crumble in a little heap and wither. In that moment, your stomach tightened, as if it would never eat again, and you felt yourself sucking in, straightening your posture subconsciously at his twisted, barbed retort.
“What exactly are you trying to imply?” The voice that spoke up was not your own but rather, the God of Mischief who stayed reclined. You watched him, slowly twirling his dagger between his fingers again- a calculating, threatening display of dexterity that made the bystanders in the room stiffen- while he cocked his head the way a beast would before devouring its prey. You had been on the receiving end of that stare many a time, but his eyes would not gleam with murderous intent; rather a hunger, as if you were a Goddess offering your nectar to a starving man. Yet even that memory couldn’t quell the uneasiness you felt as you slowly sat down, still silent.
“I did not say you could sit, princess.”
Your thighs had barely touched the edge of the chair as you froze, eyes flicking up to meet Loki’s who watched you with that mischievous gleam; plotting, planning, the way he usually was. You tried to shake your head, not wanting to be in the spotlight any longer, but he nodded, pointing his dagger at you as if it were a goblet- finally stirring something in you at his protectiveness,
“I’d like to hear you finish,” Your thighs squeezed together at the implication, “Your ideas seemed very promising- far more fulfilling than the vitriol I’ve heard during the earlier half of this forsaken meeting.” Huffs and murmurs of protest started, before being hushed as Thor- a supporter of your’s and his brother’s private relationship- cleared his throat, nodding at you to continue.
You hesitated, swallowing thickly as you slowly stood up again, voice considerably less confident than before as you completed your proposal, which had left the other participants nodding or murmuring contemplatively to those next to them. The lord who had insulted you simply rolled his eyes, taking a swig of his goblet before chiming in again- as if he couldn’t help himself-
“Ah, yes. The people’s princess. Forgive me for being so ‘out of order’,” His sneer told you the exact opposite as he sat back with a sigh, “At least they’ll know who to come to for meat if your lands are ever amidst a siege.” He muttered under his breath, earning a few malicious sneers and snickers, and as Loki snarled, Thor banged his hammer against the table,
“That will conclude this meeting. We will return later, when we have remembered how to behave like proper royals, and not barbaric animals.” He growled, the threat evident in his voice. You didn’t meet Loki’s gaze as you ducked your head, the first one to leave the meeting hall with tears that welled quickly.
--- ⋆⁺₊✧｡˚⋆♛｡⁺୨୧˚⋆⁺₊✧ ---
“I never want to go to another meeting again.”
“Oh, my darling, don’t say that.” He murmured, pressing kisses to the crown of your head as you buried your face against his torso. He had been laid back against the headboard of his bed, waiting for you after the meeting with his arms out wide as soon as you entered, and you crawled into them with teary eyes, sniffling as you lay in between his legs, face nuzzled against his torso as you cried a little.
“I feel absolutely humiliated!”
“My darling- my little Goddess- your father sends you as a representative to these meetings because he sees your brilliance, as do I-”
“Yet they all laughed at me!”
“Nobody would dare, my love, not unless they wanted my daggers carving out their insides.” His voice had remained soothing as he cooed praises, one hand rubbing your back while the other loosened the ties of your dress, letting you relax more, breathing freely as the corset underneath the bodice stopped crushing your chest and compressing your internal organs.
“He was right.”
“Who, love?” He hummed, barely listening to your vent, more focused on soothing you and your body- his vice, as he’d tell you whenever he was in between your legs, or looking up at you as you’d ride him- only to pause at your next words.
“The lord.” You sniffled, looking up at him with teary eyes as you shuffled slightly, climbing up him to rest your head against his chest.
“The lord? The lord is an insignificant fool- a worm who has been left alive to wriggle for too long. You are wonderful, beloved-”
“Loki.” You groaned, sullen as you hid your face against his neck, not in the mood for sympathy- regardless of how sincere it may have been.
“Be honest with yourself!” You snapped, the anger not even anger at all, but a storm of self-doubt, harsh self-criticism and insecurity,
“All these nobles see is a frumpy pig in pearls & frilly dresses, alright? So let us say it for what it is. I am fat. I am fat, and hard to look at, and I don’t even look like a proper princess-”
“Never,” He had flipped you both over faster than you could blink, his snarl protective as he grabbed your face with his left hand, pinning your hands above your head on the pillow with your right, rearranging your positions with that unfair godly strength he possessed, “Utter that filth again.”
Your tears had stopped in their tracks; doe eyes wide as you looked up at him, pouty lips parted in shock, face slightly flushed from crying.
“For as long as the sun brings day, and the moon calls night, I never want to hear you utter such horrid curses. Not a damn word. Do you hear me?” He growled, fingers holding your chin firmly before his hand cupped the side of your face instead, thumb brushing away the tears that lingered before he rubbed at the soft squish of your cheek. His index and thumb pinched at the apples of your cheek- the only apples he’d crave as long as he lived- gently, before kissing either side of your face.
“You are the only woman in all nine realms I love. You are the only woman I want; be it above me, beneath me or by my side. You may be the people’s princess, but you are a queen to me. The only woman I would kneel for- be it in the comfort of our bed chambers, or in the middle of the damn courtyard. Understand?” His words reverberated in your ears, rattling around your puddle of a brain before slinking over your heart and straight down to your core. The warmth he had triggered when he defended you during the meeting came back again in full force, your breathing hitching as you gawked up at him, before finally nodding dumbly, as if you had lost all ability to speak.
“If this is truly how you feel, then I must be punished for failing you.”
You blinked, trying to understand where he was going with this- your sulky voice a mere squeak as you echoed his words,
“P… punished?-”
“Oh, yes. Severely punished, for failing to present just how infatuated I am.” He murmured lowly as if this was a grave offence, his cock stirring in his pants as he saw your brain working behind your eyes; the way the words clicked and the way your thighs squeezed together, making your cheeks redden as your lips quivered.
“If I have to fuck my love into you for you to remember how beautiful you are, then I will make sure neither of us leave this bed until I have done it successfully.” His voice had taken a husky dive, your stomach coiling as your chest puffed up, nipples pebbling beneath the layers of fabric making up the bodice of your dress. Your body responded for you, tears drying to accommodate the curious twinkles of desire that began to shine through instead. His hands moved slowly, grabbing at the clothed flesh of your shapely hips, before slowly moving up over your body- your heart racing, even skipping a few beats from the intensity that he stared at you with- before his palms cupped your breasts. The soft mounds of your body could not simply be contained by a God’s measly palm, as if testament to your beauty, and he groaned at the sight, before grabbing his dagger impatiently, making you squeak,
“Loki!” You grabbed his hand, “I like this gown.” You mumbled, the lust glazing over your irises, making him huff softly before discarding the small weapon, only to pull you to sit up right on the bed with him, ridding you of the garment as he pulled it off.
“I could have bought you ten more. Ten more dresses to adorn this heavenly body.” His praise was a hungry growl- the timbre of his voice becoming more and more telling of his lustful desires- as his lips found purchase against the top of your breasts, making you gasp as his hands grabbed at the globes of your rear- his cock twitching at each whimper, straining unbearably against his pants as he beheld you. His princess. His darling.
And he’d happily slaughter anyone who threatened your comfort.
“Look at yourself, princess,”
His hands turned you around like you were a ragdoll, squeezing your hips as he pressed his own against the flesh of your ass, making you whine softly as you shut your eyes, knowing exactly where he had positioned you both. He knelt behind you on the bed, making you sit on your knees while he peeked over your shoulder, resting his chin on the surface, his icy eyes meeting yours in the mirror in front of his bed after a soft squeeze of your breast made your eyes flutter open.
“Loki-”
“Hush, my darling. I know what you want… my needy little princess. My precious girl.”
His praises only made your cunt clench eagerly, the emptiness making you whine as your eyes followed the way his hands roamed over you in the mirror. Where you saw cellulite and stretch marks, he saw health. Where you saw rolls of fat and pudginess, he saw comfort. Your breasts were his pillows, your thighs his ear muffs during the colder seasons; your body was his home, and he planned to show you just how much it all meant to him. How much you meant to him.
“You know, darling, in Jotunheim… where I was born?” A squeeze of your left breast, fingers gently capturing your nipple between them to toy with while he murmured in your ear between kisses,
“The male giants believe that the bigger their mate, the healthier their children would be. And for you, my princess, the giants would see curves like yours and go to war in your name.” He hummed, licking and nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck while he teased your body gently, your breathy whines and heedy noises making him feral. Your eyes widened at his words, before his other hand cupped your mound, barely giving you time to adjust before his teeth marked your skin, making you moan abruptly. You saw the way he smiled wolfishly in the reflection of the mirror, his low chuckle alluring to your senses as he purred in your ear,
“Does that appeal to you, princess? Wielding the knowledge that your body alone appeals to my base desires- my primal needs?” He growled the word accordingly, and you bucked your hips back into his clothed cock while his fingers sampled the wetness pooling in the apex between your thighs.
“Loki-”
“Allow me, my love, to make you feel like a queen tonight.”
As if he didn’t do that anyway.
He pulled away, before lying down with his head near the foot of the bed, so you’d see your reflection as he pulled you up to straddle his chest.
“My face is your throne, beloved. And I’d like to taste everything you have to offer.” He murmured, making your heart leap up to your throat, before plummeting straight down to your stomach as he wrapped his arms around your pillowy thighs, the sensation of him handling you making you squeak. Once your dripping cunt was hovering over his face, he groaned softly, as if he had been starving, and your hands braced his arms gently as you mumbled his name, before inclining your head. He watched curiously, before realising his mistake and let magic dissolve his clothing, leaving you both equally bare, his cock jumping at the way your thighs squeezed slightly, enjoying the sight of his nakedness.
Without further ado, he pulled you down- the movement making you squeal lightly- until your lower lips connected with his. He pressed a loving kiss to your mound- the feeling making you shiver- his tongue poking out at your glistening folds, tasting your honey greedily as he lapped at you. The taste of you made his cock jump, combined with the string of moans and mewls you released while his tongue wrote a love letter between your legs. You cried out his name in a strained moan, hands immediately grabbing at his silken locks for some sort of stability while he smothered himself in your nectar, absolutely drinking you in like you were his last meal. Every single time he did this, it always managed to get better and better- how? You had no damn clue.
“Look at yourself for me, pet.” His voice sounded in your muddled brain, despite his mouth being occupied, making you look up towards the mirror in shock, only to notice a slightly greenish tinge to your eyes- green from his magic as you realised he was looking through your eyes, both of you watching the sight of yourself atop his face. The both of you enjoyed the way your body jerked and jumped in the mirror as his head moved eagerly, hands squeezing at the plump fat of your inner thighs as he ate you out eagerly, like it was his favourite activity.
“You know it is.” His wicked, wicked voice of liquid sex appeal reverberated, making you whine, unable to even scowl from the way his tongue kept your eyes fluttering shut; only to feel his teeth nip at your inner thigh, a silent reminder to keep them open and on the mirror.
“You’re going to watch yourself, and watch the beauty that I am blessed with, as I make you come. Do you understand me, princess?”
You nodded dumbly, giving in to his demands as you weakly rode his face, his hands moving your hips along as he groaned into your mound, nose nudging the top of your wet cunt while his tongue stroked you, delving past and into your hole, making your gasp break into a weak whine as your head lolled back. Your brain was fuzzy, and you found yourself whining his name- which only made him harder and harder while he moaned at the taste, feeling and sound of you. If fate were to have him at your feet, only to serve you, he’d happily give up his titles to do so; especially with the way you looked above him right now. Soon enough, he was pulling an orgasm from you- your voice increasing higher in pitch, cracking more and more as you grunted and whimpered between moans, your breathing uneven as you tried your best to watch yourself, or more importantly, him between your legs. His neglected cock wept with beads of pre-cum from the blissful torture of hearing you, yet not being used to please you. He could have come from your moans alone, but he held back, determined to drive his point home- as well as drive into you.
“Oh, Loki- Loki I’m- mmm- I- ah-”
“It’s alright, darling. I’m right here.”
“I’m so close- so close-”
“Come for me, princess. My beautiful, beautiful princess.”
His coo made you squeak, before crying out as your release slammed into you, warmth flooding your lower stomach and gushing out, with Loki groaning happily as you sated his hunger yet again. You watched yourself, the way your eyes were half-lidded, the way you had some sort of blissful after-glow after he pulled such an orgasm from your core. You trembled slightly, whimpering as he gently guided your legs back, helping to shuffle you until you were resting against his painfully neglected erection- flinching slightly as he hissed upon feeling the warmth of your plush thighs snug against his hips, and the warmth radiating off your needy cunt.
“There you are… there’s my girl… my beautiful girl.”
He groaned huskily, pushing himself up to kiss you, making you mewl at the taste of yourself on his lips, on his tongue as it swirled against yours in a hedonistic display.
“Are you convinced yet, my love? Or shall I continue until you have no choice but to agree?” He was absolutely drunk off of your essence as he asked it, his hips lifting up into you lightly, rubbing himself against your wetness as he watched your eyes flutter shut for a moment to enjoy the feeling of himagainst your slit. Seeing the way he was so determined to please you, it made your mind reel; the fondness in his gaze as he watched you come, the tenderness he showered you with as he kissed you, before leaning back on his elbows, looking at you like that? It certainly made something in your brain switch.
“I…” You bit your lip, before nodding as you mustered up the courage, “I want to watch myself ride you.”
As soon as you said that, you could have sworn Loki whimpered- your eyes widening as he grabbed at your hips- pawing at you like he was some desperate concubine.
“Please- please ride me, my princess. Please, let me watch you- let me see through your eyes.” He murmured, leaning up to latch onto one of your heavy breasts, his tongue warm against your hardened nipple; the sensation making you gasp a breathy “Yes,” earning a hungry groan as he shifted, aligning himself with your entrance. You glanced down at where his mouth found purchase against your chest, his eyes on you as he pulled away, probably to kiss you, only to freeze as he felt you begin to sink down on him slowly.
You both gasped softly, before moaning together at the sensation- as if you two didn’t do this many times before- his head tilting back and his eyes screwing shut.
“Oh, my princess- my beautiful girl- Norns, you feel so good-” He growled out, hands grabbing your hips like a lifeline as he let you set the pace. Your attention, however, was focused on the mirror as you watched yourself, from the way your curves rippled with each moment of impact, to the way his hands grabbed at your soft, comforting flesh; fingers digging into the comfort of your skin for solace. Your warm, tight cunt gripped him for dear life as you rolled your body against his, hands splayed against his chest as you bounced so nicely.
The fat head of his cock found your spot easily- his sensitive tip prodding against your gummy walls over and over- eliciting gasps of his name as you watched his shaft disappear into you over and over.
“Who’s my princess?”
He cooed, his voice like velvet, making you clench more around him- to which he chuckled at- before flexing his hips up into you, helping you feel all of him as you impaled yourself on his wide cock. You could only whine at his praise, your cheeks warming as your hands flinched up to hide your face, only for his hands to catch your wrists and pull them back to his chest,
“Ah, ah. That’s not what I asked, darling. I said,” His hips bucked up into you to prove his point, the harsh, sudden thrust making you moan,
“Who’s my princess?”
Your brain was practically a gushing puddle of matter, your face the epitome of raw, unadulterated pleasure. You had stopped watching the mirror, eyes blurring as you lost yourself in the pulses of that warm, wonderful feeling he gifted you with every time the tip of him hit your spongy walls, yet you mumbled out an almost incoherent, “I am,” earning you a growl of approval and
More.
Hard.
Thrusts.
Thrusts that left you moaning and whining helplessly as you grabbed at his hands, fingers interlacing together as your body tightened again from the sensitivity of your recent orgasm, and the sensation of your wonderful body clenching around him made the God groan your name, along with curses in an old language that sent warmth thrumming for you. Your mewls joined his groans in a raw melody of love and lust; his infatuation with you seeming to grow stronger with every thrust, every beautiful, sinful noise you made.
“Tell me darling, do you like what you see?”
His voice was strained as he fucked up into you, his arms wrapping around your hips, holding you flush against him while he bucked his hips. The combined sounds of wet arousal from your cunt, and skin slapping against skin as his thighs smacked against your plush rear, made you squeak out his name, barely registering his words.
“So beautiful, my princess… My Goddess, my beautiful girl.” He grunted, his eyes glazed over with lust, yet the expression he gave you was nothing but adoration before he slowed his thrusts suddenly. You blinked, whimpering a noise of confusion before he repositioned you with careful movements, laying you across his bed and parallel to the mirror opposite, so you both could watch the scene that played out together as he slid back inside you again, hands gripping your hips as he restrained his thrusts to slow rolls, the gentle, consistent pace making you sigh, toes curling as he peppered your body with kisses.
“I should worship you properly, my darling- should fill you with my seed ‘til you give me a bunch of beautiful little heirs.” He groaned, his teeth sinking into his lower lip as he watched you, while your eyes watched the mirror, meeting his gaze for the moment to nod- the both of you like irresponsible teenagers as he humped into you desperately- your own lip caught between your teeth, eyes all wide and innocent-like, which made him growl and increase the pace of his hips.
“Do you want that, my pretty Goddess? Want me to worship you properly?” He grabbed your face, turning your head to face him as your lips caught in a searing kiss. He swallows your moans greedily, guttural noises sounding from the back of his throat as he kissed you over and over.
“Please, Loki.”
You barely recognised your voice, with how soft and whiny it was, and your body was absolutely sensitive- his thrusts sending jolts of pleasure so strong that it ruined the integrity of your muscles- your legs trembling as he cupped under your thighs, folding you over slightly and swearing as he felt your body tighten greedily, as if you were anticipating his release.
“Mm? Tell me, my darling, tell me what you need of me. How can I reward you, my princess?”
His voice had lowered huskily as he repeatedly buried himself within you. The action had you seeing stars, making you cry out for him before you pleaded weakly,
“Please, please- I want you to come-”
You pawed at his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck as best you could while you kissed him. Your pleas fell on listening ears, and the God rewarded you with a guttural groan, one specific thrust forcing out an orgasm you didn’t even know was building- the action making you all but keen for him- as your body clenched. Your mound tightened around him with the intent to milk him dry, and he finally let himself come- slamming his hips into you with a sense of finality- while he groaned your name over and over like a prayer, his forehead resting against yours as you both panted, with his cock twitching and jumping as he drained himself, every last hot rope of white painting your pretty walls. He stayed in you until he softened, as if to make real on his promise of fucking his love into you, before he collapsed beside you on the bed with a hum of content.
You had both come down from your highs together, and he had wrapped you up in his arms to pepper your face with kisses as he whispered sweet nothings and that made you giggle.
“Shall I kill that lord, for you, my love?”
“Loki.”
“It is but an innocent suggestion, my princess. Only to work in your favour.”
“Loki.”
“Alright, alright. But you must admit, I did do what I said I would, no?”
“Gods help me.”
╰┈➤ Lex's note 2: i hope you guys love this as much as i did! pls feel free to request any time!! <3 L'autunno ch:5 & 6 are definitely otw, as well as another req for (you guessed it) Loki!! hehe. thank you for reading, my loves!!
I am.....sated. This is absolutely incredible @lexluvswriting your Loki is just...dies of horny happiness
I mean what the....
“Does that appeal to you, princess? Wielding the knowledge that your body alone appeals to my base desires- my primal needs?” He growled the word accordingly, and you bucked your hips back into his clothed cock while his fingers sampled the wetness pooling in the apex between your thighs.
I've been staring at my phone for the past few minutes in a daze. The screen is too bright. I can smell colours. This is ✨fantastic✨ - god I could just...I need to lie down.
Oh, i dropped something! What could I have possibly-
[TW: mentions of blood and minor injury, suggestive under the cut, MDNI!!!]
You could barely differentiate who was friend and who was foe. The sounds of guns, along with the mighty crack of thunder- courtesy of Thor- and the singing of vibranium clouded your sense of hearing.
Your gun unloaded bullets on bullets, and when they weren't enough, you reached for the throwing knives tucked neatly in sheaths strapped to your thighs. Loki's rune glimmered on the hilt- a tell-tale sign that you were not to be trifled with, especially in his absence- and you got to work, cutting through H.Y.D.R.A soldiers.
Flashes of green kept appearing in your periperals, and you felt relaxed knowing your God of Mischief was untouched, probably having the time of his life. Stark and the others chattered in your ear piece, all of you occasionally communicating your locations, until the fighting finally settled down.
You trudged through the mess through to where Loki was cursing, and immediately your pace picked up, fearing the worst. Instead, your eyes widened,
"Oh, fuck..."
He had a small cut along his upper arm, and instead of using his magic, pulled off his green-turned-black tunic, the gold having a bloody tint, the green fabric soaked through as he panted, wincing lightly from the discomfort of the cut, while you eye-fucked him blatantly. His raven locks were matted with the red liquid, and his drenched shirt was practically useless, so he tossed it to the side, discarding it carelessly, in turn giving you access to oggle the delicious washboard abs at your disposal. His lats rippled when he pulled it off, and you swore your mouth watered, tongue darting out to wet your lips.
You were never one for any type of play that didn't involve spit or otherwise, but in that moment, you decided you'd happily lick the blood and sweat off of him if he asked. His torso, his arms- hell, even his face- were soaked in blood.
"Darling," He said in way of greeting as he cupped your face, scanning you for any injuries before his emerald gaze studied yours, and he smirked.
"Is there something on my face, agent?"
Dark red blood that certainly wasn't his. He wiped at his face in vain, smudges of blood caking his cheeks, yet his smile was as devious as ever as he beheld you, his hands running over your middrift, holding onto your hips with a crooked smirk that made your knees weak, and your core clench with heat. Your stomach sucked in, as if to tamper down on the unhinged lust.
It was blood, for fuck's sake. But dear Lord above... the things you'd do to your God tonight in the name of 'active recovery'...
[La Fin.]
uhm... WOAH. don't know where that came from,,, HAHA (i have a problem).
