#I'm not sure if kitchen garden is a word in English

[these-detestable-hands]

Uh, I have zero idea about your OCs, their backgrounds, the plot that's waiting for them, stuff like that... But I do love hearing a friend telling me stories, so!

Tell me about your most beloved OC at the moment!

What do they do?

What's their background?

What's their philosophical stance regarding their own life, or the society they live in?

What are their traits, and what trait would you think is the most trademark of them?

What was their biggest regret?

What is their ambition? What sort of person did they wanna be, and are they on their way to it, or is something getting in the way?

What is their role in, uh, whatever story/plot you have in store for them?

If someone (another character) were to be antagonistic toward them, what would be the impetus that caused that antagonism?

What got them excited lately?

What inspired you into creating them? Is it a character from another story/fiction? A person from real life? Your own life experience?

This should make an interesting read!

I love you thank you for asking questions omg. I don't fully understand all of them so I'll answer as best as I can.

1. What do they do?

Ione trapped her son in a fantasy winter hellscape. As for job then idk. Her daughter Delilah is a kindergarten teacher and she destroys the portals that Ione made. Augustus is Ione's son and he's the king of a country called Sletan. He hardly interacts with his bio family in canon but he does kill a bunch of evil artificially created monsters :3

2. What's their background?

Ione is an African American/English woman born and raised in England in 1963. Idk much about the English school system but she's fairly average. She married a man named Gary at 22 then they left and moved to Spain when she 23 and they had a son called Augustus a few months later. Two years later they had Delilah.

Augustus and Delilah both had fairly normal childhoods until 1996. Augustus (age 10) was put in that fantasy world and was from then on tutored. Delilah was obviously horribly messed up by this and took time off from school a lot and fell behind with her education but she caught up again by about age 14.

Gary never recovered and ended up retiring early and still in the present (2021) is extremely depressed and has nightmares about Augustus' "dissappearance". Gary has always been a very normal guy and he never knew about the portal stuff Ione had going on. He loved his kids a lot so it's obvious that losing one would kill him. He still has a good relationship with Delilah though, this isn't some bs like with Rodrigue and Felix.

3. What's their philosophical stance regarding their own life, or the society they live in?

This question confuses me a lot but I'll try my best to answer!

Ione honestly sorta has a god complex. Idk how she feels about the Spanish government.

Delilah is fairly normal as well but still feels guilty about Augustus' dissappearance because the lie Ione told her could have been prevented if Delilah had gone with him. Gary is similar.

Augustus does like his life how it is now cause his adopted parents agree that Ione was absolutely horrible and they treat him well and he resents Ione. He often has feelings of doubt about if his adopted parents truly love him cause his own birth mother didn't, so who's to say some random people do? These feelings of doubt slowly go away during the story though cause not only does he have a daughter of his own but he also ends up loving a crap ton of people. He's a very loving guy and he just realizes his mom was just evil and it is not difficult to love people with your entire heart. As for the society? Ough he's the king lol.

4. What are their traits, and what do you think is the most trademark of them?

Ione is a smiley type of villain. She's very calm and smiles while killing you kinda person. Her defining trait is that she has a very keen perception of time and objects. She can accurately guess the amount of peas on a pile or how long has passed since she ate lunch down to the minute without looking at a clock or even the placement of the sun.

Delilah is very sweet. She's an artist and is extremely good at teaching things to others but can easily get a bit caught up in leadership roles and forgets to listen to the group she's supposed to be helping. Her trademark trait would probably be her patience cause she's so incredibly patient with everyone. For a large chunk of the story, she's forced to work with this obnoxious guy Salvador and she is very good at keeping her cool, even when he says something horribly mean or refuses to help. Don't worry she does get to lose her temper and yell at someone and set a building on fire at the end of the story.

Augustus is a sorta calm and calculating type, think a bit like Seteth or Selena. He loves people a lot but isn't too great at showing it cause he's not huge on being affectionate lol, he often just says things like "I love you with my entire heart and I would be devastated if anything bad ever happened to you" in a completely monotone voice. His defining feature is that he's very very quiet. He does not talk a lot at all and when he does then he doesn't speak very loudly. He's changed a lot since I first made him but one feature that's been a constant is the fact that he's quiet.

5. What's their biggest regret?

Ione is probably getting rid of Augustus cause she doesn't care much for him but she doesn't like not being able to return to that world. She's really shallow and doesn't care much for her family at all.

Gary and Delilah are both that they didn't do something the day Augustus went missing because they think that they could have saved him.

Augustus' is probably that he didn't spend more time with his daughter, Julie, cause she now hates him and he thinks it's cause he wasn't a good dad (it's actually cause Ione ruined everything)

6. What is their ambition?

Ione and Gary don't have much of anything going on. Ione doesn't keep the portals to reach a goal, she mostly just has them for fun and out of curiosity.

Gary, again, is just really depressed and doesn't do much ever. He keeps a kitchen garden.

Delilah is happy with her life. She is trying to learn to play the harp though.

Augustus gave up on ever trying to go home so his main ambition is to kill the artificial monsters that terrorize Sletan.

7. What is their role in the story?

There's two separate stories, one featuring Delilah and the other takes place in Sletan.

In the Sletan story, the protagonist is this girl Melinoe but Augustus is a deuteragonist. Ione and Delilah never show up.

In Delilah's story then she's the protag alone with that obnoxious jerk I mentioned before Salvador. Ione starts out as a normal motherly character and ends as the antagonist. Gary is a side character who doesn't do much at all.

8. If someone (another character) were to be antagonistic towards them, what would be the impetus that caused that antagonism?

Ione gave away Augustus, when Delilah finds out then they become antagonists for each other basically.

Augustus is a king so probably just someone who wanted to kill him or start a revolution.

9. What got them excited lately?

Idk about Ione shed weird.

Delilah probably got excited about progress with learning the harp.

Augustus infodumped to his wife about some book he read.

I do not really know what you mean with this question.

10. What inspired you to create them? Is it a character from another story/fiction? A person from real life? Your own experience?

OOOOOOOOOO Augustus was inspired by King Rhoam from botw. At first he was supposed to be this super sweet and lovely old guy but then I did a 180 and made him evil like Lyon and Valter instead. After a while of making him worse and worse, I decided to make him nice again and he's now mostly inspired by characters like Seteth, the handler and Maximilian Morrel.

Delilah was originally heavily inspired by Edelgard but then she morphed into a normal person over time.

Ione?? Idk wtf happened. Originally I saw pics of a causal suit + crop top combo on pinterest then drew a character like that then decided she was actually evil and 60 and hates her kids.

Gary just sorta popped into my noggin one day cause I decided Ione needed a husband.

And while we're here, inspiration for Juno (Augustus' wife) was from Monica fe8. Julie was inspired by Neimi and Flayn. Salvador was unpaired by gaucho clothing, Zuko and Dimitri

[leaawrites]

The Eras Tour

Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: in which your boyfriend surprises you with tickets for The Eras Tour.

I kinda wrote this as like a hug of some sort because I didn’t get tickets and am now devastated. (Yes, I did cry about it) (more than once if I'm honest)

Warnings: fluff, a bit of making out, kissing, English isn't my first language

Masterlist

"I hate it here so I will go to / secret gardens in my mind / people need a key to get to / the only one is mine."

Lando heard low humming and whispered words leaving her mouth as he closed the door to her apartment. The scent of pesto and spaghetti lingering in the air, together with the flowers of her shampoo. Walking into the kitchen, he leaned against the doorframe, watching her. Towel wrapped around her hair to dry, pyjama pants covering her legs and a bra. A coffee, half empty, was still sitting beside her. She took a sip now and then.

Turning around she grinned at him, stop singing to not embarrass herself.

"Hello there," she said, quoting Obi-Wan.

Lando laughed at her low voice and miserable impression of the Jedi.

"Hi you," he said back, still staring.

A sense of happiness floated around him and she could feel it. The good mood was drowning every other emotion that once was in the room.

"What's got you so happy?" she asked, beginning to move to the new beat.

New Romantics.

She knew how much the almost of every race weightened him down. She could feel it in the way he held her, his sorrow drowning her as well. The possibility of a new win made the second place feel so much worse. He could do it now, he knew that. He just wasn't able to do it. Maybe it would take him another 5 years, he once told her as they laid in bed together. Then I'll wait 5 more years, she answered.

"Pack your bags," Lando answered simply.

"Where are you taking me, Mr Norris?" she asked, finishing up the spaghetti and walking over to him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, he kissed her.

"Milan," he whispered.

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with confusion. What could they possibly want in Milan at this moment?

"I know that you were sad when you didn't get Tickets to go to The Eras Tour, so I may have called a few people," he elaborated. Her eyes widen and her mouth stood open in shock.

"You did what?" She asked just to make him repeat his words. Her heart was beating and her eyes were flooded with tears all of a sudden.

"We're going to see T-swizzle, baby," he said, laughing at her reaction.

"Holy shit," she exclaimed, throwing herself on him. Hugging him tightly and kissing his neck, a thousand thank yous falling from her lips on his skin, sinking in and finding their way to his heart where they would be kept in memory.

"Are you sure about this?" Only now did the important part come to her mind. Pulling away she looked at him. She knew how much Lando tried avoiding any public outings, in fear of the fans reaction. He didn’t care about what they said, but he knew she would. And breaking her heart through a third hand coming into their relationship wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to make her happy.

"I'm sure," he said, kissing her. "I was so in fear of other people's perception that I forgot that love is the most normal thing in the world. If I want to love you fully I will. Seeing you happy is what love is to me."

"So we're really going?" She asked again.

"We're really going," he confirmed again.

The girl began jumping up and down, squealing and screaming and laughing.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," she repeated over and over again, taking his hands in hers and holding them against her chest to make him feel her heart.

"I love you too," he said, kissing her. His hands losing hers and grabbing her breasts. His lips traveling down her neck and collarbone. Squeezing her flesh and letting her know that he meant it.

[rafesslxt]

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐚 𝐥𝐚𝐰 | 𝐭. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐭

sfw content | theodore nott | requested

aesthetic: 🍝🍴💋🤌🏼🇮🇹 | masterlist ⎥words: 420

「 ✦ you and theodore are cooking some good old pasta and you decide to mess with him and break his italian heart ✦ 」

warnings: none other than breaking spaghetti in half

note: english is not my first language, Italian words were translated with google translator

I was standing in Theo's kitchen, putting a pot with some hot water on the stove before getting out a pack of spaghetti when suddenly an evil little idea popped into my head.

Last time I ruined his wine with some sprite to tease him. I know that Pasta is his favorite dish in the world. I mean, would it be that bad If I messed with him a little bit? I heard him coming back from another room so I turned around and smiled at him. "You're back with the tomatoes?" "Yes cara mia. I picked them from the garden, my mother has a little vegetable patch out there." his thick Italian accent sounded through the room.

"Here, smell them." He folded them in front of my nose and I indeed smelled it's freshness. He kissed my cheek and walked past me towards the stove and pulled out a little pan.

I turned around so I could watch him, when I saw the spaghetti again and a smirk formed on my lips. "Sooo.. I think the water is ready to put the spaghetti in." I said and grabbed the pack and opened it, getting the noodles out of it.

I put both my hands on the ends of them when I saw him widening his eyes. "Oh no, tesoro, ti prego, non farmi questo di nuovo!" Oh no darling please don't do this to me again!

I smiled at him devilish and broke all of the spaghetti in my hands in half, his face twisting in frustration. "Dio, mi stai facendo impazzire! E' terribile! Non posso mangiare questo!" "God you're driving me insane! This is awful! I can't eat this!"

I laughed when I somehow with my bad Italian skills, understood what he told me. "What do you mean you can't eat them like that? It's the same taste Theo, don't be silly."

"No it's not! I can't eat those half broken things. This is against the pasta law!" I raised my eyebrows at him and giggled. "Pasta - what? Law?"

"Yes! This is unforgivable y/n!" I smirked and put the pasta down before I stepped in front of him and put both of my hands on his chest. " I'm sorry Teddy, how about I show you how sorry I am after dinner, hm?"

He looked down at me with a small grin and raised eyebrows. "Oh you sure as hell will amore. But before that you can eat those things alone. I'm gonna make my own spaghetti!"

I got this request by @samgonecrazy under a post similar to this. I hope u liked it even tho it‘s very short [like theos spaghetti now ha ha].

taglist: @sofa-couch26 @itsarajr @hisparentsgallerryy @mixvchelle @ummmmmmm-username @belle-blue @beautywine @sagetakami @simp-for-fantasy @whyamireadingthis @i-like-pandas5 @themissingweasley26 @thegirlwhosimpstoomuch @justarandomcanadiantransdude @helendeath @thatonepansexual2000 @imabee-oralizard @supernaturaldawning @brodiedoesthings @gxdsfavgal @synicaljah @yourenogoodforme

thank you for reading &‘ supporting 🫶🏻

xoxo sarah <3

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

Keeping it quiet

Paring: Innocent!reader × dads!friend!Nat

Summery: You looked lonely Natasha could fix that

Warnings: SMUT, (legal) age gap, amab!nat, oral, fingering, p in v, pet names, implied aftercare, secret relationship, breeding kink, unprotected sex, no use of Y/N

Word count: 1.2k

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional!

AN: sorry for the long wait but here I am

Masterlist

Today was supposed to be a normal BBQ like your family had had so often in this warm summer months but ever since your father invited his collegue over to join something changed. Ever since you met Natasha Romanoff about 3 months back you couldn't stop thinking about her. She might have been old enough to be your mother and a friend of your father but you couldn't denie the fact that you were attracted to her like flies to the light. She was a true charmer excatly knowing what to say and to do. You never felt uncomfortable around her even though she blatanly flited with you. Her touch somehow always lingering on your skin when the two of you were alone. It was only a matter of time until you ended in Natashas bed legs widely spread as she savoured your taste. So the time flew sneaking around your parents watch as you kept your illicent affair hidden falling head over heals for the older woman. Today was one of those days where Nat came over to your parents place and just couldn't keep her hands of you.

Like always Natashas steps were light on the cold tiles of the french villa your family owned. Sometimes you thought she was an actual spy. You didn't hear her standing in the kitchen in skimpy clothing preparing something for dinner as you mindlessly hummed along whatever Taylor Swift song was currently on the radio. "What are you doing bunny" She sneaked up behind you pressing her front into your back her crotch againt the swell of your ass. "Just doin' a salad you know" She humped checking out the area to see if your parents were around before doing anything further. Her hands came up to your hips pulling your behind harder against her crotch. "Natty please" you whined as she smirked pressing her nose against your neck smelling the expensive perfume she had gotten you. "We can't not here" your breathing was heavy uneven "What if my parents see?"

"They're in the garden trust me bunny" She whispered her strong hands trialling up your sides to your chest. Even though your body was betraying you leaning into her touch seemingly begging for more you couldn't give in just yet. You wanted to show her how you infact could be stronger than your most animalistic thoughts. "Natasha not now" she groaned into her hear making you feel the wettnes betwen your owm legs. "Fuck bunny I can't wait to feel your tight little pussy pulsing around me begging me to let you cum. And then after you had your sweet sweet release I'm gonna breed you're dripping with my cum" she whispered into your ear before pushing herself from the counter leaving into the garden. Of course she wouldn't actually get you pregnant you where on the pill and you weren't sure if she was even fertile. It was more of her kink she had explained to you.

The rest of the night you two kept your play up. Acting asif you couldn't care less what the other was doing in front of your parents. Still you couldn't help but admire her beautiful features as she had some boring converstaion with your father about politics or what ever. What really interested you would be the time spend between the sheets with her as she would show you all her passions and desires. After what seemed like hours you finally snuck your way into the guest room. She was spread wide on the comfortable mattress only wearing a wifebeater and her chequered boxers. "There's my bunny eh" she turned her head towards you as you made your way over to the bed swinging your hips . You sat down deside you before turning to kiss you roughly slipping her tongue into your mouth as you shifted to strangle her waist feeling her growing erection as you rolled your hips against her crotch.

"Fuck Bunny" she breathed out as she gripped onto your hips stilling you in place. "let me get you ready first" she whispered flipping you to lay under her as she kissed your neck down reamoving your cami top in the process. She took on nipple in her mouth slightly sucking on it before her big hand started playing with your other nipple rubbing over it. You let out quiet whippers as she switched sides. After what she deemed to be enough attention to your chest she kissed her way down to your panties nibbling on the skin of your hips. She made sure to leave hickeys in her way. You tried your best go keep it quiet but when Nat did her thing it was hard. Natasha kissed your clit through the soaked through panties pulling them down only to revel your sticky heat.

She made a bold lick from the end of your pussy right up your puffy clit swirling her trained tongue around the erected nub. Her scarlet lips attached to your clit sucking on it making you cry out as you tried to close your legs around her head but she kept them spread. She slowly inserted two of her long fingers into your clenching hole as you quietly cried out for mor and more. Natasha moved her fingers roughly and fast not giving you time to adjust. "Fuck your so tight" she groaned pumping her fingers even faster. “Natty ‘m close so close“ You felt your release close enough to grab but then Nat pulled her dripping fingers from your heat leaving you high and dry. “W-What?” You mumbled out opening your eyes again only to see Natasha smirking down at you “I want some fun too honey“ she smirked flipping you to your knees pushing your hips up as you arched your back showing off both your tight holes to her.

You heard her removing her boxers she already was rock hard for you her reddened tip leaking with pre cum as she expertly spits on her shaft spreading the slick over it. She moved closer pushing her tip to you clit enjoying the sight of you bucking your hips desperately trying to find your pleasure. “Ngh Tasha please” you begged making her listen slowly pushing in making you gasp at the feeling of being stretched out like that. She gave you time to quickly adjust before picking up pace fucking you hard and rough as she had a death grip on your hips. You couldn’t care less about the bruises as you pushed your face into the pillow muffling your sounds. With Natasha whimpers and the sound of skin slapping your moans filled the hot summer night air hoping your parents couldn’t hear you.

You kept clenching down on Nat she grabbed onto your shoulders. “Fuck ‘m gonna breed that little pussy ngh… I’m gonna make you so full of my cum“ you whined out before the coil in your stomach snapped and you came hard Natasha following soon releasing her white seed deep inside your whomp. She proceeded to help you through your orgasm even cleaning you up before cuddling you to sleep her arms tightly around your smaller body.

:)

[noisynaia]

𝑀𝑈𝐹𝐹𝐼𝑁𝑆 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐽𝐴𝑀

Written for the lovely @pedrostories Secret Santa event 2023

My dear giftee is @katiexpunk, hope you like it! 💕

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader 

word count: 3.2k 

summury: You moved into your new house six months ago, and you love your new home. It is spacious and has a lovely little garden, and it also just so happens to include the hottest single dad with the sweetest little girl you’ve ever met as your new neighbors. Over the months you have gotten to know them more and more. Little Sarah has fallen head over heels for your labradoodle Sofie and often comes over to play with her in your garden, and as you have gotten to know him more and more, you have fallen head over heels for her father, Joel.

note: Pre/no outbreak. Next door neighbors. Fluff. Baking. This is the first fic i've written in seven months, so sorry for being super duper rusty. English isn't my native language. This was supposed to be something completely different, but my laptop broke, (the 'screen part' literally just fell off?!) so I didn't have near as much time for this as I would have preferred, so sorry if this seemed rushed (it sadly was). But nonetheless, happy holidays ya'll! I'm so happy to be back, and aiming to write much more again in the new year ♥︎

Joel stands in the kitchen, staring hopelessly at the empty sugar canister while cursing under his breath, feeling the dull pressure behind his eyes and nasal cavity which usually indicates an incoming tension headache. He had been sure that it was full, but no, it’s as empty as his hope for successfully making these damn muffins. The curse words escape his lips like a symphony of frustration, echoing off the empty walls of the kitchen. Joel can feel the frustration sinking into his bones. 

He had promised Sarah that he would bake muffins for her school function, despite not being a very good nor patient baker. But he would do anything to make his little girl happy. He had thought that they could bake them together, that it would be a fun father-daughter activity, but work and chores and Sarah’s soccer practice and honestly just life in general had gotten in the way of those plans. 

So now he stands here, the night before Sarah needs the muffins, without one of the most essential ingredients. It’s late, way past Sarah’s bedtime, who is sleeping soundly in her room.  Joel would  have to wake her up and take her with him if he’s going out to buy more sugar. But he really doesn’t want to wake her, she needs her sleep, but there is also no way in hell he’s leaving her alone while he runs to the store even if she’s just sleeping. 

As he stands here contemplating his options, you appear in his mind. You do that frighteningly often these days, and deep down he knows exactly why, but he has to suppress it. He is too busy, and too grown, to go around getting crushes on pretty women with cute dogs who move into houses next door to him, and who is always so sweet and funny, and who is so sweet and nice to his daughter, and…. No. He has to stop this. He shouldn’t think about you like this. 

He is mature enough to admit to himself that he is attracted to you, very attracted to you, but admitting to the feelings he has caught is a whole other can of worms, which he is not going to even attempt to look into. He is a single dad to a six year old, focused on taking care of his daughter and providing for her needs.

But in this moment, as he stands in the kitchen with an empty sugar canister mocking him, he feels a tug in his heart, a desperate need for help. He reluctantly gives in to the idea that perhaps you might have some sugar to spare… 

It would be nice to see you, but he also really doesn’t want to disturb you, and something about knocking at your door this late at night gives him a funny feeling in his stomach. 

Joel shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts as he focuses on the task at hand. He glances at the clock on the wall, realizing that time is slipping away. With a sigh, he reluctantly decides that he has no choice but to go next door and ask you for some sugar.

As he walks across the lawn and up to your front door, Joel can feel his heart racing. Why does he feel so nervous about such a simple request? He hesitates for a moment, contemplating whether he should knock or just turn around and forget about the whole thing. But the thought of disappointing Sarah and ruining her school event pushes him forward.  He takes a deep breath and knocks on the door, attempting to calm his racing thoughts.

Shortly after, the door swings open, and there you are, standing with a warm smile on your face. Your eyes light up as you see Joel, and Sofie, your adorable dog happily greets him as well. Joel can’t help but feel his heartbeat quicken even more at the sight of you.

“Hi,“ you smile at him. “What brings you here at this hour?” you ask curiously.

Joel awkwardly shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his nerves getting the best of him. “I hate to bother you, but I’m in a bit of a jam. I promised Sarah I would bake muffins for a thing at her school tomorrow, but I ran out of sugar. Do you, by any chance, have some to spare?" 

Your smile widens, and you tilt your head slightly. “Of course, I’d be happy to help you out. Come on in, I’ll grab it for you.”

Joel breathes a sigh of relief as you invite him inside. He steps into your warm and inviting home, noticing the pleasant aroma from what he guess must be a scented candle or something of the sort. It feels comforting and familiar, contrasting with the chaos and frustration that he left behind in his own kitchen.

He follows you into your kitchen, taking in the sight of the cozy space. The countertops are clutter-free, and a few potted herbs sit on the windowsill, basking in the moonlight. It’s a stark contrast to his own kitchen, which is always a whirlwind of activity and unfinished tasks.

As you retrieve the sugar from your well-stocked pantry, Joel can’t help but admire the ease with which you move around the kitchen. Your familiarity with the tools and ingredients is evident, invoking a sense of calm in him. He wonders how you manage to maintain such a serene environment amidst the chaos of daily life.

Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, Joel finally musters the courage to ask, “How do you do it? How do you manage to keep everything so neat?”

You pause for a moment, a kind smile on your face as you hand Joel the sugar. “Well, for starters, I don’t have a kid," you chuckle, “and I guess it’s just about priorities, and since I work from home, I find that having a clean and organized space helps me stay focused and reduces unnecessary stress.”

Joel nods at your answer. He can’t help but admire how put-together you seem, both in your home and in your life. It’s something he strives for but often falls short of, with the chaos that comes with being a single parent. 

“You’re doing really well by the way,” you smile at him, interrupting his thoughts, as if you can sense his doubts. “Sarah is really lucky to have you.” Joel’s cheeks flush at your compliment, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over him. He never believed he was doing enough for Sarah, constantly doubting himself as a parent. But your words validate his efforts and provide a much-needed boost of confidence. “Thank you,” he says softly, a mixture of appreciation and relief lacing his voice. “I always worry that I’m not doing enough, that…” he pauses. 

Your expression is filled with understanding. “I can’t talk from experience, but I know that parenting is never easy. But trust me, Joel, Sarah knows how much you love her and how much you’re doing for her. And I think you are doing a wonderful job,” Joel’s eyes meet yours, and he sees genuine sincerity reflected in them. It’s as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, the burden of his self-imposed expectations slowly dissipating. You speak with such warmth and wisdom, Joel’s heart swells with gratitude for your presence in his life. He never imagined that a simple request for sugar would lead to such a meaningful conversation. 

“Thank you,” Joel says, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. “That means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

 You smile warmly at him, reaching out to gently squeeze his arm. “Joel, you’re a great dad. Don’t ever doubt yourself.” As Joel thanks you once again, he can’t help but feel a warmth spreading throughout his heart. It’s a feeling he hasn’t experienced in a long time, and it fills him with a sense of hope and possibility. Before he leaves, Joel can’t help but ask, “Would you wanna come over for dinner sometime? I am a much better cook than baker and Sarah has begged me to have you and Sofie over and visit.” 

You smile and nod, your eyes sparkling with excitement. “I would love that, Joel.” 

Joel feels a surge of warmth, at your smile. Thanking you again he turns to leave, sugar in hand, he musters up the courage to say one last thing. “I’m happy that it was you who moved in next to us.  It’s been nice getting to know you and having you around.”

You smile warmly, your eyes twinkling, and an almost bashful expression on your face which catches Joel a little off guard. “Likewise, Joel. I’m always here if you need anything, whether it’s sugar or just someone to talk to.” you add the last part with a teasing smile, but the sincerity in your words are clear. 

“I really appreciate that,” Joel says, his voice filled with sincerity. 

“And just so you know…” you give him a bashful smile.“That includes help with baking muffins.”  

Joel feels how his stomach does a flip as he understands what you’re saying. “Would you like to help me bake some muffins?”  

“I’d love to,” you say happily, your smile growing and Joel can’t help but feel a sense of excitement through his body. “I’ll be over at yours in ten, how’d that sound?” you ask. 

Joel’s heart leaps at the thought of spending more time with you. “Sounds good to me.” 

“Cool, see you in ten then.” You grin at him. Joel smiles back at you, feeling a sense of anticipation building within him. 

As Joel heads back to his house, sugar in hand  he can’t help but smile, he had been so tired and frustrated only a little while ago, but now he suddenly feels fully recharged. 

____

Ten minutes… You have ten minutes to make yourself look somewhat decent, in a casual, ‘I’m just going over to my extremely attractive dilf neighbor whom I have a big fat stupid crush on’ way. No pressure at all. 

As you race to your bathroom to check yourself over in the mirror, you take a deep breath to calm your racing heart. You touch up your makeup, adding a touch of lip gloss and swipe on a new coat of mascara, you brush your teeth, and spritz on a little perfume. After making sure you look presentable, you opt for a comfortable yet cute outfit, realizing that you don’t want to come off as too overdone. 

Satisfied with your appearance, you grab a small container of homemade blueberry jam from your fridge. It may not be muffins, but it’s a sweet treat that you can bring to share. With jam in hand, you head out the door, your heart fluttering with anticipation.

As you approach Joel’s house, you can’t help but appreciate the calmness of the night. The moon shines brightly above, casting a soft glow on the neighborhood. You hear the faint sound of crickets chirping, and the warm breeze carries the scent of blooming flowers. Everything feels serene and magical, heightening your excitement.

You reach Joel’s doorstep and take a moment to collect yourself. You remind yourself to be casual and relaxed, even though your heart is pounding in your chest. With a steadying breath, you knock on the door.

Joel opens it with a warm smile, and you instantly feel at ease. His eyes light up as they land on you, and you can't help but blush under his gaze. “Hi,” he greets you softly. “I'm so glad you could make it.”

You return his smile, extending the container of blueberry jam towards him. “I brought some homemade jam. I thought it would be nice with the muffins and I remember Sarah telling me she loves blueberries.”

Joel's eyes widen in pleasant surprise, and his smile widens. “That is so thoughtful of you. Thank you, darlin’.”

‘Darlin’...’ Your heart flutters at the endearment as you step inside his house, the word falling so naturally from his lips. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, mingling with the scent of warmth and comfort. It’s a homey and cozy feeling that instantly puts you at ease.

As you enter the kitchen, you notice the ingredients for the muffins laid out, ready to be used. There’s a twinkle of anticipation in Joel’s eyes as he gestures towards them. “Do you want to get started?”

You nod eagerly, not wanting to waste any more time. “Definitely. Let’s make these muffins amazing.”

For the next few hours, you and Joel work side by side, measuring ingredients, mixing, and chatting as you go. The conversation flows effortlessly between you, ranging from lighthearted jokes to more personal stories, and the atmosphere somehow turns more and more flirty, making excited butterflies flutter in your stomach. With each moment, you can feel the connection between you deepening, like ingredients coming together to create a perfect blend.

As the muffins bake in the oven, filling the kitchen with their delicious scent, the two of you take a well-deserved break. Joel pours two cups of coffee, and you find yourselves sitting at his kitchen table, sipping the warm brew in comfortable silence.

The soft glow of the overhead light casts a warm and cozy ambiance over the room. Despite the tiredness in his eyes from a long day, a smile tugs at the corners of Joel’s lips as he watches you take a sip of your coffee. There’s a comfortable silence that envelops the two of you, a sense of ease and contentment that comes from being in each other’s company.

As you set your cup down, you turn to Joel, your eyes filled with a mix of playfulness and sincerity. “You know, Joel, I have to say. These muffins wouldn’t have turned out as amazing as they did without your expert baking skills.” A teasing smirk dances on your lips.

Joel chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, I may have had a little help from a certain someone,” he says, a hint of affection lacing his voice.

You playfully nudge him with your shoulder. “Oh, so now I’m just your personal baking assistant, am I?” you retort, pretending to be slightly offended.

Joel’s smile widens, his eyes sparkling with humor. “No, no, not at all. You’re so much more than that,” he reassures you, his voice brimming with sincerity. “You’ve brought light into my life, darlin’. Ever since you moved in next door, things just feel...better.”

The warmth in Joel’s words seeps into your heart, igniting a deep stirring within you. A connection that goes beyond the simple act of baking muffins is forming between the two of you, growing stronger with each passing moment.

Before you know it, the timer for the muffins goes off, snapping both of you out of the gentle bubble you’ve created. You share a laugh, realizing that you may have gotten carried away in the moment.

Joel stands up and walks over to the oven, his movements fluid and confident. He takes a deep breath, a look of anticipation on his face. “Well, here goes nothing,” he mutters to himself as he opens the oven door and retrieves the tray of freshly baked muffins.

The delightful aroma wafts through the kitchen, filling the air with its tantalizing scent. Joel carefully sets the tray down on the counter, the muffins still warm to the touch. He reaches for a plate and begins arranging the muffins, creating a beautiful display.

You watch him with admiration, seeing the dedication and love he pours into everything he does. In that moment, you can’t help but feel an overwhelming surge of affection towards him.

As you join him by the counter, your hands instinctively reach out to brush against each other, sending a spark of electricity up your arms. Your eyes meet, and in that instant, everything else fades away. It's just the two of you, connected in a way that feels destined. 

Joel's gaze is warm as he gazes at you, and his voice is filled with sincerity as he speaks. "I just want you to know how grateful I am for your help, for everything. You've brought so much happiness into our lives."

You smile softly at him, feeling your heart swell with affection. “The feeling is mutual, Joel.”

Joel takes a step closer, his gaze unwavering and filled with a mix of vulnerability and longing. You can’t help but notice how his gaze keeps darting from your eyes to your lips, and you feel your own heartbeat quickens in response, but a sudden surge of bravery fills you as well. You can’t just be imagining this. “You can if you want, you know.” you whisper.

You can almost see how Joel’s breath catches in his throat by your words, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. He searches your face, trying to comprehend your words. “If I want...what?” he asks, his tone laced with both curiosity and hope.

A soft smile graces your lips as you reach out to gently take his hand in yours. “You can kiss me,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “If you want.”

“I want to, more than anything.” He brings his free hand up to gently cup your cheek, his fingers grazing your skin with tender affection.

With bated breath, the world seems to stand still as your faces draw closer together. The anticipation hangs in the air like an electric current, and as your lips finally meet, it feels like a rush of warmth cascading throughout your bodies.

The kiss is soft, tender, and filled with an underlying passion that has been building between you. It's a culmination of longing, uncertainty, and hope, all coming together in that single moment of connection.

As your lips move against each other, the outside world fades away, and all that matters is the tenderness you share. Time seems to stretch, allowing you to savor each second of this newfound intimacy.

When you finally break apart, breathing slightly heavier, Joel's eyes search yours, seeking reassurance and confirmation. "Was that okay?" he asks, his voice laced with vulnerability.

You smile warmly at him, a sparkle in your eyes. “More than okay,” you reply, your voice filled with sincerity. “It was everything I hoped it would be.”

A wave of relief washes over Joel as he pulls you into a gentle embrace, his arms enveloping you in a sense of security. Resting his chin on the top of your head, he whispers, “I'm glad, because I've been wanting to do that for a long time.”

And in that moment, as you stand in Joel's warm embrace, you realize that sometimes the sweetest moments in life come unexpectedly. As you snuggle into his embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek, you can't help but be grateful for the empty sugar canister and the twist of fate that brought you together. Love has a funny way of sneaking up on people, and you can’t wait to see where this new chapter with Joel and Sarah takes you. With muffins in the oven and love blossoming in your hearts, this late-night adventure is just the beginning of a sweet, heartfelt journey together.

[em-ontv]

Heyy, I'm obsessed with your writing, so I was wondering of you could write some more about Newt from the maze runner? Anything really, I love your style of writing and i'd love to hear more about a charcter I love! Thank you, <3

Hey there, thank you for liking my writing <3! And yes, I will write more newt because he is an absolute sweetheart. Hope you like it ◡̈ !

Fix me up.

Pairing: Newt x medjack!reader

Summary: Newt got hurt when the new greenie accidentally dropped a garden-hoe that scratched him and he only wanted you to patch him up.

Warnings: mentions of injuries, Newt being a bit dramatic, a few Glader language?, use of y/n, English is not my first language, mistakes should be present, apologies beforehand

Word count: 552

———————————————————————————

It was another normal day in the Glade. The familiar hum of activity filled the air as the boys went about their routine tasks. As you got up for the morning, Frypan waved you over from the kitchen area, a heap of fresh vegetables in front of him.

“Y/n, mind giving me a hand with these?” Fry gave a smile, gesturing at the pile while you walked over.

Although you were a Medjack, you often found yourself helping around in the kitchen, chopping up vegetables and stirring up pots by Frypan’s side – he really enjoyed your company, since you knew how to handle food with decency instead of almost burning the whole kitchen down like the greenie he tried to train two months ago.

You picked up a knife and started chopping, the rhythmic sound of the blade hitting against the wooden board created a comforting background noise.

But suddenly, a commotion broke out near the garden. Raised voices and loud chatters made you look up, and without a second thought, you dropped the knife and rushed towards the noise.

As you neared the garden, you yanked past the small crowd of boys that surrounded the person in the middle – Newt. You were greeted by the sight of him, clutching his arm as blood slowly bled through the gaps of his fingers.

“If you’re wondering, the greenie dropped a hoe and scratched him,” Winston gave you a nudge, his eyebrows raised slightly.

“That doesn’t look like a scratch to me, where the shuck is Clint and Jeff?” you shot Winston a glare after seeing the hint of amusement in his eyes.

“They’re–” Winston started but got cut off when Newt caught sight of you and immediately let out a dramatic groan.

“Ughhh… it hurts!” Newt groaned again, his eyes flickering to you every couple of seconds, making sure that you paid attention to his… uh, ‘pain’.

Newt started wincing and grimacing, exaggerating the pain of his arm. Clint and Jeff were there long before you, and they attempted to approach him once again, to try and help him with his injury. However, Newt kept swatting their hands away, shooting them glares and complaining loudly about the pain.

“Stay back, you’ll only make it worse!” Newt declared, throwing in a loud sigh for good measure. It rendered the two Medjacks speechless.

“Oh, the agony! The absolute agony!” he clutched tighter on his arm.

To be fair, the cut was bleeding pretty badly, but you didn’t expect a whole outburst followed by a meltdown from him. What did you expect? Perhaps more maturity from the second-in-command. And if the greenie wasn’t already klunking his pants, he sure is now.

“Alright, move… move.” you pinched the bridge of your nose and finally decided to step in.

Newt sighed in relief, visibly relaxing and letting his guard down. “Finally, somebody who knows what they’re doing.”

Clint and Jeff exchanged an amused look, some of the boys standing around rolled their eyes and chuckled before scattering about, returning to their tasks now that the theatrics were over.

“Come on, let’s get you to the Med Hut,” you shook your head while Newt started repeating a bunch of ‘ow, ow, ow, ow’ over and over again, seeking your sympathy. Hiding a little victorious smirk from your sight.

[mothtoaflamee]

Hi, is it possible to have a request with Lucifer (top) x male reader (bottom). It's a smut. And they are married. And for the scenario I let you do it, I just want something romantic and with a lot of love (sorry for the spelling mistakes, English is not my language.)

☆Lucifer x Male!reader☆

Fluff + smut

Summary: You and Lucifer have been happily married for about a year! It’s now your first anniversary and your loving husband wants to share something special with you <3

Warnings: It’s very corny and not proofread, slight overstim, excessive use of “you” and “your” because I don’t use y/n but I can change that if it gets annoying, also I haven’t written smut in awhile. Lucifer calls you ‘sweets’

Word count: 2,4k

Sighing softly, you stared up at the high ceiling above as you lay sprawled out on the large bed you and Lucifer shared. You were never really a morning person, especially without Lucifer next to you in bed.

Yawning, you sat up, stretching before getting up and dressing in some casual clothing. You smelt a pleasant sweet smell of pancakes, and chuckling to yourself, you realized it must be Lucifer making breakfast again. It seemed to be a habit he picked up even though he had cooks to do it for him, considering he was the king of hell and all, but he’d rather make you food instead; it felt more intimate, plus Lucifer loved hearing your praise, especially when it came to his cooking skills.

Heading out of the bedroom you walked down the many stairs into the main kitchen to see your darling husband, you smiled softly as you admired his soft features and how peaceful and happy he looked.

Lucifer's head snapped up as you entered the kitchen, a wide smile spreading across his face. He was in the middle of flipping pancakes, so he quickly turned off the stove and moved to the counter, setting down the spatula.

"Good morning, my sweet! I thought I'd surprise you with breakfast in bed, but you beat me to it. I hope you're hungry because I've made a feast!"

He gestured to the table, where a large spread of pancakes, bacon, eggs, and fresh fruit was laid out. He pushed up his eyelids, revealing his red irises, and gave you a loving smile.

"Come on, sit down. I'm sure you're famished after such a long night."

You hummed happily and trotted over and sat down beside him at the kitchen table, smiling as you took a bite of the food. It was utterly amazing, just as good as it smelled.

"Awh, thank you, dear I appreciate it.”

You were very excited for the day, considering today was now you and Lucifer’s 1-year anniversary of being married! You wondered what the day would bring. Lucifer beamed with pride as you praised his cooking, his cheeks flushing a light pink. He sat down beside you and began to dig into his own plate, taking a large bite of a fluffy pancake. He reached over and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze

“You're welcome, my love. And happy anniversary! I've planned something special for today, but I won't spoil the surprise. Just know that I love you, and I'm so happy to have you in my life.”

He leaned in to give you a soft kiss on the cheek, then went back to enjoying his breakfast. After both of you were done, he took your hand softly and led you outside to the garden. It was beautiful even with some plants from the living world, he created this place just for you when you both got together and you started living at the palace. It was sweet and the air smelt nice, it had your favorite plants and trees too. As you both walked hand-in-hand through the lush garden, Lucifer couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and love for his husband. He had created this beautiful oasis just for them, wanting to give you a peaceful place to escape to whenever you needed it. He led you to a small, secluded area with a bubbling fountain and a comfortable bench. you both sat down together, and Lucifer wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

"I love you so much, my sweet. You've brought so much joy and light into my life, and I can't imagine spending my days without you by my side. Thank you for being mine."

You smiled softly, before you could respond he leaned in and captured your lips in a tender kiss, pouring all of his love and devotion into it. you kissed him back passionately, losing yourself in the soft loving moment between you two, wrapping your arms around him deepening the kiss before pulling away to breath.

“You're so cheesy you know that? I love that about you though” you said playfully poking his red cheek gently.

Lucifer chuckled softly, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink. He pulled you closer, resting his forehead against theirs.

"I know, I know. I can't help it. When I'm with you my sweet prince, I just feel so...happy and loved. It brings out the cheeseball in me."

He grinned playfully, then leaned in for another kiss, this one slower and more sensual. When you both finally broke apart, he gazed into your eyes, his own filled with adoration for you.

"I love you, more than anything in this afterlife, You are my everything."

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

As the day went on you and Lucifer spent every moment together, doing usual corny couple things and exchanged equally corny sweet words. When it was evening he took your hand once more, telling you he made reservations at a popular restaurant in hell, Lucifer led you through the palace, his hand firmly but gently gripping yours. He was excited to show you this new side of Hell, a side that wasn't filled with fire and brimstone, but with elegance and refinement. You both arrived at the restaurant, a dimly lit establishment with red velvet curtains and plush seating. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meats and spices, making Lucifer's mouth water.

He gestured for you to take a seat, then went to the host to make sure they got a table for two. When he returned, he pulled out your chair like the gentleman he is, then took his own seat.

"I thought we deserved a night out for our anniversary. Plus, the food's supposed to be amazing. Here's to many more years of love and happiness, my darling."

He raised his glass of wine in a toast, his eyes never leaving yours. You nodded, lifting up your own glass of wine and softly clinking your glasses together.

“it’s beautiful here, thank you luci, today has been amazing”

Lucifer beamed at You, his heart swelling with love and gratitude. He took a sip of his wine before setting the glass down.

"You're welcome, my sweet prince. I'm glad you're enjoying it. I just want to make sure every moment with you is special."

He reached over, taking your hand again, giving it a gentle squeeze. The rest of the night was filled with laughter, delicious food including your favorite food, and heartfelt conversation. It was a night Lucifer would always remember, a night filled with love and the promise of a bright future with his beloved husband.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Once you two headed back home, Lucifer disappeared into your shared bedroom, humming softly to himself as he prepared the final surprise for your anniversary. He pulled out a large, beautifully decorated cake with the number '1' on top, along with a few candles. He lit them, then carried the cake back out to the living room, where you waited.

"Surprise! I know we just had dinner, but I thought a little celebration was in order. Happy anniversary, my love.”

He set the cake down on a nearby table, then moved to stand beside you, offering his hand once more.

"Come on! Let's blow out the candles and make a wish for our future together!”

Lucifer's eyes sparkled happily, ready to share this special moment with you. You nodded and scooted closer to him on the couch, holding his hand as both of you blew out the candles together, hugging Lucifer tightly afterwards. After eating most of the cake you both headed up to your shared bedroom. As you entered the room, the air was thick with the scent of lavender and rose. The bed was turned into a cozy nest of pillows and blankets, with soft, flickering candlelight casting a warm glow over everything. He led you over to the bed, beckoning you to climb in before him.

"I hope you like it. I wanted to make it as comfortable and comfortable as possible."

Lucifer grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief making you chuckle slightly and squint your eyes at him almost if asking what he was planning.

“Aw your so sweet, thank you luci~”

Lucifer's grin widened, his eyes filled with desire as he settled in beside You. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

"Anything for you, my sweet. I love you so much, and I want to spend every moment I can with you.“

His hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer, the passion growing with each passing moment. You were feeling a bit flustered by his words but you decided to deepen the kiss further, your hands roaming his chest and back, pressing closer to him while doing so. Lucifer moaned softly into the kiss, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you even closer.

"sweets...you're everything to me. I can't imagine life without you."

He broke the kiss, trailing soft, feather-light kisses along your jawline, down to your neck, eliciting soft moans and gasps from you as you gripped onto him like your life depended on it, making small claw marks on his back- not enough to actually hurt but just enough to get a reaction out of him. Lucifer let out a soft, almost purring noise, the slight marks on his back sending shivers down his spine. He continued his trail of kisses, making his way down your chest, teasing your nipples with his lips and tongue.

"You feel so- mmh~ good, I could do this all night~”

His hands roamed lower, his fingers brushing against the waistband of your pants, teasingly close to the skin beneath.

“F-fuck luci~ dear- don’t stop”

You murmured softly, feeling yourself get embarrassingly hard under him as he climbed over you, pinning you below him on the bed

Lucifer smirked, his eyes gleaming with desire as your words spurred him on. He continued his exploration, removing your pants and revealing your very hard erection. He took the soft tip into his mouth, sucking gently at first before sucking deeper and deeper before lifting his head up fully making a small ‘pop’ sound as he did.

"Mmm~ you taste so good, I want to pleasure you until you can't take it anymore.. now then, let me take care of you mm?”

His hands roamed up to cup your thighs, holding them in place as he continued back to sucking you off. Lucifer's actions left you writhing beneath him, moans and whimpers filling the room as your body arched, seeking more of his touch. The pleasure was overwhelming, and you could feel the heat building deep within, threatening to erupt at any moment.

Lucifer's mouth and skilled hands worked in perfect harmony, driving you closer and closer to the edge. The room was filled with the sound of your increasingly desperate gasps and moans.

your hands clenched the sheets, nails digging in as you neared the brink of an orgasm, every nerve ending in your body alight with pleasure. Lucifer's eyes met yours, the almost primal desire in them mirrored in your own gaze. Crying out, your body trembling as you came, release spilling into Lucifer's waiting mouth. The demon continued to suckle and lick, drawing out every last drop, before pulling away, a satisfied smirk on his lips.

before you could get another word out once your aftermath of your orgasm began to wear off as you were now only half-hard, you heard the sound of a belt buckle falling to the floor, making you jerk slightly in a newfound excitement of what’s to come. Lucifer's smirk widened as he saw the renewed excitement in your eyes. He removed his own pants, revealing his rock-hard erection. He crawled up your body, positioning himself at your entrance, using your ‘release’ as a form of lubricant which would work fortunately.

"Are you ready for me, my love?"

He teased the head of his cock against your entrance, the tip slick with your release and his pre-cum. He looked into your eyes, waiting for your response

"Aah~! yes, please- take me~!”

he nodded before slowly pushing inside you, filling you completely. You cried out in pleasure as Lucifer began to move, his hips rocking in a slow rhythm. Each thrust brought with it a new wave of pleasure, your body arching to meet his every time he entered you.

"Oh- f-fuck! Luci you feel so good~”

Your hands roamed over his body, gripping and squeezing his back as he continued to thrust into you, your moans and whimpers filling the room.

Lucifer's pace began to quicken, his thrusts more desperate and urgent as the pleasure built within him. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he continued to pound

into you. His movements were fierce, his body a storm of desire and need. Sweat glistened on both of your bodies, your skin slick and hot. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, punctuated by the occasional moan or gasp.

"I'm close, sweets-...I'm so close."

Lucifer's voice was thick with lust, his grip on you tightening as he felt the edge of orgasm approaching.

With a final, powerful thrust, he cried out your name, his body trembling as he came deep inside you. His cock pulsed, emptying himself into you as he collapsed onto your chest, panting heavily.

"I hope you know...you're everything to me, I love you."

He rested his head against your shoulder, his heart pounding in your ear as the two of you basked in the afterglow of your lovemaking, wrapped in each other's arms.

“I love you too luci.”

It was a night filled with love and passion, a night that cemented the unbreakable bond between Lucifer and you, a bond that would carry them through every moment of their lives together.

———

Notes: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG JESUS. I just- forgot how to write smut for a bit. Hope this is alright and there aren’t too many grammar mistakes. Also thank you soso much for your support! I appreciate it so much 🪄✨

[givemea-dam-break]

Hey, I love how you write! I wanted to ask a Lockwood x reader where reader is an orphan, and the agency accepts a case where the ghost is y/n's mother, and after the case Lockwood comforts her. Sorry if it's weirdly specific, feel free to change something. Thank you!!! (Sorry for grammatical errors, English is not my first language, I'm using google translate)

a/n: don’t worry about grammar or anything pahaha, i’m here to write the things you like not criticise you about something that isn’t your first language 😭 and i’d be more than happy to write this! i hope you enjoy (and i hope it’s alright to read my love <3)

warnings: mentions of death, blood, mild description of panic attacks words: 2.2K gn reader taglist: @wellgoslowly @waitingforthesunrise @irisesforyoureyes @aayeroace @neewtmas @ettadear @mirrorballdickinson @gotlostinfiction @locklylemybeloved @mischiefmanaged71 (let me know if you want added to my taglist <3)

My Flower - Anthony Lockwood

There are creepier houses in London, but somehow this one feels worse.

As you scan the contents of the living room, there’s an odd feeling in your chest, tugging and squeezing and flooding your stomach with nausea. It’s a pretty minimalistic house, probably because there’s only a small space to work with, but something in it has made your throat dry.

This isn’t the first time you’ve come on a case to deal with a woman murdered by her husband, as horrid as it is. It’s not even the first time you’ve worked on a case where the victim, and number one suspect for the Visitor, has been killed within the last two decades. Fifteen years ago, George had told you. Slit throat. The thought makes you shiver.

Maybe it’s because it was this very room where the murder happened, and where their young child had been left beside an aging corpse, wailing, for two days. No one helped, not until the neighbour grew sick of the crying.

The case was in the newspaper for months as DEPRAC and police forces tried to find the husband, but to no avail. Reading them in the kitchen back at 35 Portland Row had made you feel ill. This is worse.

“How’s it going through there?” Lockwood calls from the kitchen.

“No sign of her yet,” you say, glancing down at the iron circle around you. “But I can feel her.”

Creaking floorboards sound, and then Lockwood is in the doorway, glancing around the room. He’s wearing those stupid-looking sunglasses of his to block out the deathglow in the room – one that is horribly strong, apparently. You wouldn’t know. Your sight is terrible. With a swish of his coat, he’s standing beside you, too close to be considered appropriate for colleagues but too far to satiate the twitch of your fingers.

“You want to use your Touch?” he asks. “Try getting a sense for what the source could be? For all we know, it’s one of these creaky floorboards.”

You huff a laugh, but it feels rather strained. “Where do you suggest I start?”

“Wherever your heart takes you.”

“What are you, a poet, now? Wheesht.”

He snorts as you step out of the iron circle. A chill passes over you, and looking down at your temperature reader, you can see it’s fallen three degrees since your last check five minutes ago. If not for the gum you’re chewing, you’re sure you’d be able to taste the bitter miasma on your tongue.

“Watch my back.”

You can practically hear his grin when he says, “When don’t I?”

“That time in Soho. That other time in that house in Hackney. Oh, or that park in Greenwich –“

“Right. I get it. But I’m watching your back now.”

A smile tugs the corners of your lips upwards, but you have to set the words aside. With a deep breath, you place your hand on the wall in front of you, just short of the window facing the front garden, and close your eyes.

The world rushes away, taking with it the creeping fear in your soul and the chill on your skin. Warmth floods your bones as you open your eyes, greeted with an older version of the living room you stand in. There’s no sign of Lockwood or your equipment. The minimalistic décor has been replaced with clutter: children’s toys; blooming plants; photos along all of the walls; a comfy-looking sofa draped with a fluffy blanket. Even with your moderate Talent in Listening, you can hear soft music playing, followed by laughter and a child’s voice.

A figure crosses into the room, a beautiful woman in her twenties, and in her arms is her child, no older than two and babbling incessantly. The woman laughs, pinching the child’s cheeks before setting them down on a plush rug and handing them one of their dozens of toys. She looks at them fondly, perched on the sofa’s arm, and you have a clearer view of her.

She looks just like she did in the photos in the newspapers – young and beautiful and hauntingly familiar. Something in the way she smiles, how she laughs, has an odd feeling sparking in your chest.

There’s a moment where it’s almost like a photograph. Nobody moves, not the woman, not the child, and not you. But then the woman stands and crosses the living room until she is standing beside you, peering out of the window cautiously. Her fingers fiddle with something at the windowsill.

“My flower,” she says, glancing back at the child, “I do love you so. Remember that.”

You frown, and though you know how the story turns out, you still jump when footsteps shake the house. It all happens too quickly. The husband storming in, furious at God knows what, shouting at his wife, shoving the child away when they toddle over for a hug. When he reaches the woman, it feels as if all the air has been sucked from your lungs, and you can only watch as he berates her, blames her for problems that were of no cause of hers. You feel like you’re going to be sick when he grabs a glinting letter opener. It shouldn’t be sharp enough to harm, not really, but it is. And he kills her.

There’s so much screaming, even with your muted Talent, and it’s deafening. It tears you from the vision, and with a feeling similar to whiplash, you become aware of the real world’s surroundings; of someone’s hands holding you up and their voice asking you if you’re okay.

But you can barely focus on that.

A few feet in front of you, there she stands. She’s beautiful, even as a ghost, even with the blood on her throat and lips and the hollow cheekbones. You can’t breathe, fixed on the sight of her alone. And her words. The few, raspy words she speaks have got you by the throat.

“My flower,” she rasps, and there’s a horrible gargling sound like blood in her throat. “(name).”

You stumble back into Lockwood, who uses one arm to hold you close and the other to point his rapier at the ghost. His heartbeat is pounding furiously against your back, the only sign of his nerves.

“I’ll hold her off,” he says. “You get the source. Do you know where it is?”

“Yeah,” you manage, grasping his arm. “But…”

“But what?”

He swipes with his rapier as the ghost nears, and for a moment she disappears, only to return. Repeating, repeating, repeating. My flower. (name). My flower. (name).

“Lockwood, don’t hurt her.”

“She’s a ghost! She’ll hurt us.”

Your grip on his arm loosens. “Do you trust me?”

“Usually. I’m not sure I do right now.”

Regardless, you pry his arm off you and take a step forward.

The woman’s ghost makes no attempt to attack you. She simply hovers in place, watching you with careful, curious eyes as you step closer to the window. Your hand slides onto the sill, shocked by the sharp cold, and it could very well be a figment of your imagination, but you swear there’s a glimpse of a smile as she repeats your name.

With a trembling hand, you find that the edge of the windowsill is loose. Carefully, you pull it upwards and try not to jerk your hand away as a spider rushes out, climbing over your fingers and down onto the wall. The wood, old and weathered, cracks and snaps upwards.

“Why’s she not moving?” Lockwood is still in a defensive position, now slowly moving to stand between you and the ghost.

And there it is. The source. You pluck it out from a hastily-made hole beneath the wooden windowsill, as if it had been formed solely for the purpose of hiding this very thing – a small box, one with your name written carefully on the top.

A sigh of relief. Your name repeated.

Slowly, so as to not startle her, you pull a silver net from your belt and gently wrap the source in it. And with a wink of light and once more, My flower. (name), she disappears.

The chill immediately lifts from the room, and warmth creeps its way back into your bones. Cautiously, Lockwood sheaths his rapier and turns to you. He looks a little bewildered, apparently unused to a ghost not wanting to kill him. His eyes are a little wild, but they soften when they find yours.

“What just happened?”

“I think…” The sentence goes unfinished as you stare at the source.

Keeping it mostly wrapped up in the net, you peel away the top to reveal the lid of the box, brushing a finger over the faded cursive. Lockwood’s there in an instant, looking between you and the box as you open it warily.

The box isn’t big by any means, but it’s large enough to hold some little polaroid photographs, each with a date and little notes written in the same handwriting that dons the top. There are photos of a baby dressed in silly outfits, ones of the woman with her child on her knee, grinning. The one at the very bottom shows a newborn, wrapped snug in a blanket, with a birthdate and name written below that has your heart ceasing all actions.

Lockwood’s fingers brush the pictures. “I thought… I thought your mother was dead.”

“She is. We just met her.”

You’re not sure why it didn’t click sooner. After years of living in foster care, you always clung onto your surname, knowing it was the last thing you had of your family. You never knew who your mother was, or your father for that matter, and had never known the first names. But why the surname didn’t give you a hint… You’re not sure.

Part of you feels relieved to have that clarity now. To know who your mother was, and that she loved you, but at what cost? Having to watch her brutal death as her child – you – sat and cried? To have only seen her again in the form of a ghost-hunter with the intent of destroying a ghost? To know that your father was a murderer who abandoned you?

All at once, the emotions hit you like a tsunami. It’s hard to breathe, so damn hard to breathe, and your head is swimming. Bile rises in your throat as you fall back against the wall, dropping the photos and their box to the ground. Your legs shake, giving out, and you slide down the wall until you reach the ground trembling.

But Lockwood’s there. He’s always there. He gathers up the photos into the silver net, wrapping it tight before shoving it away to the side and kneeling beside you as you reach for his hand. It’s warm, familiar, and it makes you feel tied down to the world, but, god, it’s still so hard to breathe. It feels as if your throat has closed up, unwilling to let anything pass but horror and grief and a strange piece of relief.

Lockwood doesn’t say anything. Instead, he gently moves your hand from his until it rests against his chest atop his steady, strong heartbeat.

It feels like years before the ability to breathe without feeling like you’re dying returns. But Lockwood stays, calm and collected, holding your hand to his chest and acting as your lifeline. He doesn’t tell you to breathe. He doesn’t tell you that you’re okay. He tells you you’re safe. That he’s there.

Shakily, you take a deep breath and rest your head back against the wall. Your face feels sticky with tears, and you can taste salt on your lips, but Lockwood doesn’t care. No, he brushes the hair off your sweaty forehead, his hand lingering for a few moments.

“I can’t believe…” You can’t even say the words.

“I know,” he murmurs. “I can’t even begin to imagine how you feel.”

“It didn’t even click. I should’ve guessed when –“

His hand on your cheek stills yours words. “Should’ve nothing. It’s not your fault you didn’t realise. If it’s anyone’s, it’s mine, but, as horrible as I feel right now for bringing you on this case, I think you needed this.”

You want to scoff at the words, to shout at him for even suggesting that seeing your mother’s ghost after fifteen years of not knowing her is good for you, but you can’t help but agree with him. If George or Lucy had come instead of you, you never would’ve known who she was. What she looked like. How she sounded when she laughed. How beautiful her smile was. What your nickname was. My flower.

When you lean forward slightly, your forehead finds Lockwood’s, and you rest against him for a few moments, finding solace in the evenness of his breaths and the familiar scent of bitter tea and cheap shampoo. After a moment, he pulls away and presses a feather-light kiss against your forehead, and you find yourself leaning, now, against his shoulder, breathing in the comfort of him.

“I’m here if you need to talk,” he says quietly into your hair. “Or if you just need someone. I’m always here.”

It’s not until he brushes his lips against your head again that you can move.

And he holds you the whole way home, fingers entwined, so that you know the words are true.

[factorialsotherfandoms]

The eggs are asleep, and finally Philza and Missa can catch a moment to themselves. Unfortunately, catching that moment means admitting to the injuries they have been hiding from their children - fussing over scratches while having arrowheads lodged next to your spine is the duty of a parent on Quesadilla Island, but an exhausting one.

Missa's quick fingers manage to pull said arrowhead from Philza's back, the momentary flash of pain causing him to nearly drop the iodine solution. He doesn't, though, just a little stain on the floorboards, and so he continues applying it to the wound in Missa's leg.

He barely notices the scratch of a needle against his back, but Missa cannot help but whine as the gauze is pressed against his wound.

"I hate it here," Missa manages, thankfully in English as Philza is in no position to twist and see his translator. "Why is everything trying to kill us?"

"The island fucking hates us, is why," Philza grouches, reaching over for a bandage. He's managed to get Missa's leg to stop bleeding, but it should still be covered. "Enjoy the island my ass."

Missa giggles a bit, even as he tapes a dressing in place over the arrow wound. He says something in Spanish which is definitely too fast for Philza to parse; he tries to turn and look, only to be gently pressed back into position.

"It's nothing," Missa assures him. "But the skeletons! Why are they so bad?"

"The skeletons aren't even the worst of it," Philza groans back. "If you ever see glowing eyes and nothing else? Run."

There's a long pause, and Philza hopes that Missa understands the severity of his warning - a Nightmare Stalker is exactly that, and Philza knows Missa is not nearly equipped to handle one. If he struggles as he does, he doesn't want to think about how his partner would suffer in his stead.

"It's okay," Missa pats his shoulder a few times, leaning around his wings to do so. "I'm good at running. It's my special talent!"

"You're good at a lot of things," Philza promises.

Missa doesn't reply; this time when Philza turns, he is allowed to. His entire body aching he sits himself up and twists himself around, taking Missa's face him his hands.

"You are so good," he promises. "So, so good. There's nobody else I would want to raise my eggs with."

There's more on the tip of his tongue; Philza quashes it as Missa closes his eyes, rest of his expression hidden by his mask.

Philza can see Missa struggle with his words for a bit - he's always amazed how someone can make themselves understood in two languages - before eventually receiving, "you are the best egg father."

"We have the best egg child," he retorts.

"We do!" Missa's entire body language perks up. "Chayanne is the best egg child, and he is ours. We are so lucky."

"We really are."

Philza isn't sure when it happens, but eventually he realises that he has leant forward, his forehead resting against Missa's mask. He closes his eyes and savours it, feeling as Missa loosely places his arms across his bare back - Philza needs his for support, one either side of Missa's hips and taking his weight, but otherwise he would do much the same.

The two of them stay in silence for a while, savouring each other's presence. The pain is still there, from protecting their children, and yet... In a simple house of oak and glass, for a moment it is all peace.

"Run away with me."

This is not how Philza had ever meant to bring it up, but the words slip out of their own accord.

Missa startles, eyes wide and spine straight as he blinks himself out of the peaceful haze, "qué?!"

"Run away with me," he shifts so he can see all of Missa's face, taking both of his partner's hands in his own. "Take the children, and run away. Find a way off this island, and to another world - one where the skeletons are the /only/ thing to worry about. I'll build you another house and we'll make it a home. Any colour you like, with a fence and walls and real bedrooms and a kitchen for Chayanne and gardens for Tallulah... You can have your own music room and kick Wilbur out for trying to steal your guitar, and we can sit on the roof in the moonlight and you can sing and I'll dance with the children asleep beneath us and no risk of zombie horsemen on our tail."

"But how-" a small whine catches in Missa's throat. "How do we get away? They said we cannot leave."

"There's always a way to leave," Philza says. "We just have to find it."

There's hands in his wings, and Philza startles.

"Your wings are so big... If they healed, you could fly away," Missa says, something wishful in his tone. "Up and up and far, far away, so far they could never catch you."

"And leave you behind?" he asks.

"You'd come back for Chayanne. And I... I could follow you then?"

"Even if something happens to Chayanne, I'd come back for you," Philza promises. "I won't leave you here, not in this hell."

"You wouldn't leave anyone here, if you could help it."

"Probably," Philza admits. "But I wouldn't come back for them, not if I didn't know I could escape again - I'd come back for you."

"I'll wait for you," Missa seems almost to melt in Philza's touch, whimpering as he curls in on him. Philza isn't even sure what he said wrong, just that his egg partner is clinging to him, whimpering.

"We might not always be together," he tries to reassure. "But I will always come back for you - I'll always find you. There's no point in running away if we don't run away together; if some day I /can/ fly away, I'd only do it to come back with help."

The whimpering turns to sobbing, and Philza adjusts his position to hold Missa properly. The hands in his feathers dig deep - one finger catches on some tape holding one of the litany of dressings in place - but Philza just holds Missa and worries.

Why this reaction? Was it something he said?

He stops talking just in case; Missa clearly wants a hug, so he just holds him, understanding only odd words of the broken fragments of Spanish between the sobs.

Eventually the tears slow; Missa pulls away, still sniffling.

"And... Spreen can come?"

"He can live next door, if he wants," Philza promises; it'll be a little hard to negotiate with Fit, but interpersonal drama is just a part of life. "A whole new town for /everyone/ - all of the islanders, and all of our friends. Maybe if we let his ex in Forever will even stop hitting on me."

That earns a laugh, if a bit of a wet one.

"I want to dance with you," Missa says.

"With no zombie riders," Philza promises. "Maybe tomorrow we could dance a bit at the Favela? But, one day, we'll do it somewhere safe."

"On the roof, under the moon?"

"I'll make a roof specially designed for it."

The tears slow some more, and Missa drops to actually lie on the bed.

"Do you really think we'll escape?" Missa turns to Philza and asks. "We broke the Wall, and the Federation-"

Philza moves to lie beside him - on his front while Missa is on his back - and takes a hand. "We will. I promise."

"But-"

"Someone cleverer than us will work it out," he smiles to Missa. "We've just got to survive while they do."

"And if they don't?"

"Then I'll burn the Federation to the ground."

[weakformingyu]

Spencer Reid doesn't know how to swim

Summary: after an exhausting case the BAU goes to Rossi's summer house to relax for the weekend, no one knows that Spencer doesn't know how to swim and you are willing to help him keep it that way.

Genre: fluff, smut. +18 - Minors DNI

Warnings: piv, masturbation(f receiving), dirty talk, praise, a little bit of choking, no protection or birth control mentioned, the author doesn't know how to swim too, that's why she doesn't describe Y/N's teachings.

Word count: 2.136

A/N1: this is my try on the @imagining-in-the-margins CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge ☀️

Prompt: character doesn't know how to swim.

A/N2: I'm not a native english speaker and this is my first time attempting to post a fanfic in another language so please be nice. This is my first time writing a oneshot too, so I hope it's not that bad.

It's hot. Really really hot. You can't remember a summer where you struggled so much like this one. But after finishing your last case, Rossi invited the entire team and their families to spend the weekend in his vacation house.

You are so excited after seeing some pictures, he has a huge pool and the house is super close to the beach too. After so much traveling in the jet, it is nice to go on a road trip, with the windows open and the wind blowing your hair.

With Rossi driving, Penelope in the passenger seat and in the backseat Spencer and you, the trip has everything to go smoothly. However, you can't help but notice that Spencer is acting kinda strange and he looks nervous, but the doc always looks lost when he goes to some place new.

When everyone arrives the sun is already setting, so it's decided that today would be for settling down and have dinner, the beach could wait till morning.

The house is bigger than you expected, you could scream from a side and someone on the other side wouldn't hear you. There is a huge garden in the front, with so many flowers near the windows, it's going to be nice waking up in the morning and smelling the perfume. You always knew Rossi was rich but a summer house with 12 rooms is another level of rich.

You choose the one in the first floor where you saw the flowers by the window, it's near the kitchen too if you need to wake up in the middle of the night to drink water or have a snack.

After some delicious past that Rossi made for dinner, everyone was sleepy, so one by one everyone was retiring to their rooms.

Two hours after you wished good night to everyone and took your leave, you are looking for a bikini in your bag. You always loved pools, much more than the beach, so everytime you have a chance to spend some time in the pool, you feel happy like a child.

Opening your room's door, you look to both sides of the corridor making sure no one is there. You aren't doing something to be ashamed of, but you still feel embarrassed being this happy about something so simple while the other adults are acting their age. So you go in the backyard's direction, holding the towel covering you.

The water is cooler than you expected since it was so hot during the day, but it's good anyway, you like the refreshing feeling. The pool is big enough to fit all the team and their families and in the middle there is a bridge that goes from a side to another.

You see something underneath the bridge and even though you are a fan of horror movies, you still go checking what is it you saw. Relief washes over you when upon closer look you see it was Spencer hiding in the shadows.

"You scared the shit out of me, Reid", you say, smiling.

"Sorry, I just hid when I heard someone coming", he says not looking at you.

"Why would you hide?", You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

"Well...", he finally looks at you and he seems... Embarrassed?

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to", you say feeling like you are meddling in something you shouldn't be.

He takes a deep breath.

"I... I actually don't know how to swim, so I was trying to practice a little bit to not embarrass myself in front of everyone else", he blurts out.

Oh.

That's kinda cute.

"Do you want some help?", You ask and he stares at you like you are not making sense.

"Aren't you going to tease me? A grown ass man who doesn't know how to swim?"

You chuckle.

"Have I ever made fun of you?", You ask and he shakes his head.

"No, never"

"Than, there's no reason for me to begin now", you get closer to him, "I'm offering help because in fact I worked as a swimming instructor every summer during high school, so I can be a huge help"

"Oh, I didn't know about that", he says and you notice he's blushing.

You were never this close with him physically, even at work you try to keep your distance from him. You are sure neither him or the rest of the team know about the little crush you have on him.

It began soon after you entered the BAU, you always liked smart man and Spencer was the full package: smart, kind and handsome. So you couldn't help feeling attracted to him. Of course you knew he wouldn't be willing to jeopardize his career to date you, so you put your feelings aside, kept going on with your life and meeting people that were not him.

"There's a lot you don't know about me, doctor", you smile and you can see him furrowing his brows, confused. But it's better to change the subject. "So, are you going to accept my help?", you ask and he nods.

"Yeah"

"Let's begin then", you say and starts to explain the basics to him.

It's no surprise at all that Spencer learns everything quickly, jut by looking he can replicate exactly what you do. So it takes less than two hours for him to get the hold of it. It was nice, getting closer and checking his breathing to see if he was doing it right, touching him with no fear of being rejected, smelling his scent of cinnamon even after hours in the water. No guilt.

"To finish the lesson, let's make a bet. The one that gets in the other side of the pool first can make a wish and the other one has to fulfill it. Let's see if you can win", you say and he nods. You both go to the front of the pool and begin to swim after you count to three.

You were sure you would win, you have much more experience than him. But when you come back to the surface you bump right into Spencer's chest.

"It looks like the student has become the master", he says sliding his hands to your hips.

"Whoa, I didn't think I would lose", you say confused about what his hands were doing there.

Spencer comes closer and closer.

"Now you have to fulfill my wish", he whisper in your ear, his voice is different, it's deeper.

"Hm... Yeah, what do you want?", You are embarrassed and blushing, all the work you did trying to hide your crush was going down the drain. You are so close he can surely hear you heartbeat.

"I want you to answer my question sincerely", you nod, "did you put this bikini that can barely cover you, to tease me?"

You feel your face hot, you're so embarrassed you can die. You begin to struggle to get away from him but he grabs your hips to keep you still. You wouldn't use this bikini in the beach tomorrow with the other people from your team there, you had other more descent swimsuits for that but you did chose the smaller one to come to the pool tonight in hopes that you would meet Spencer wandering in the house and you would let your towel slip while talking to him, you wanted him to see you, see what he could have if he made the first move but you didn't want him to see right through your plan, he shouldn't know what you really wanted.

"Keep your word", he says, grabbing your face and forcing you to look at him, "answer my question honestly, that's my wish"

You feel a warm feeling coming from your core. You are excited, aroused because of the situation you're in and the dominance Spencer is showing.

You nod, expecting that to be enough for him, but he smirks diabolically.

"I want to hear you say it, every word"

You blush, thinking of a way to scape but his right hand is firm on your hip and the other one is still holding your face.

"Y-yes, I wore this for you"

Before you can feel embarrassed, his lips come crashing on yours and his hands slid down grabbing your ass, making your legs wrap around his waist. His tongue enter your mouth making you moan to the feeling. You feel Spencer moving and a few seconds later you feel your back being pressed against the pool's wall, you whimper to the feeling of his arousal pressed against your pussy.

He takes one of his hands to your head caressing your cheek before grabbing your hair and pulling it, leaving your neck exposed, he kisses there and goes down your collarbone.

He sucks and licks your covered nipples making you moan louder than you should taking in consideration that all of your team were sleeping in the house.

"Hearing you moan it's music to my ears", he says looking deeply in your eyes, "you're so beautiful"

You don't know what to do, you still can't take in on what's actually happening. Are you really making out with Spencer in Rossi's pool?

"What are you doing, Spencer?", you don't actually want him to stop, but you don't want him to make a dumb decision just because he is horny. "If we keep going there's no turning back"

"Who says I want to go back?", He says sliding his hand to your panties and putting it aside, he brushes his fingers in your folds. You have to repress a moan, he smiles inserting a finger in your pussy, you drop your head, leaning on him and biting his shoulder. He begins to circle your clit making you whimper. You wrap your arms around his neck pressing your nails on his back.

"Fuck", your hips begin to react by themselves, rocking in his fingers.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to fuck you", he whispers, biting your ear. "I had to watch you go out with so many idiots knowing very well I am everything you need"

"Ah... Spence... please", you can't form a logical thought, you feel like you're going to lose your mind if you don't cum.

"Yes, you're going to scream my name soon enough", he takes his fingers of and you feel empty, your eyes opening, you ready to scold him but before you can open your mouth, you fill the head of his cock in your entrance and he thrusts into you. It felt like you were being torn apart and you bite his shoulder so hard you feel the taste of blood in your mouth.

"Fuck, Reid", he isn't moving yet, "please", you ask and he starts rocking his hips, thrusting so hard you didn't though it was possible.

"I always wandered how it would feel to be inside of you", he grunts, his voice almost cracking, "if feels like heaven, I could fuck you for the rest of my life and I would be the happiest man alive"

You take his hand from your hair and puts it in your throat letting him know what you want, Spencer wrap his fingers around your neck just enough to make it difficult to breath.

Everything is so overwhelming, all the feelings you're having, him fucking you so hard, his words, the feel of something growing in your lower stomach, you feel like exploding with pleasure.

"Reid... I-I'm going to...", you can't even finish the sentence before your climax arrives, you let out a loud moan and your legs tremble. You're only able to stay in the surface because Reid is holding you.

You feel his thrusts losing strength and soon he groans, moaning deeply and filling you up.

You two stay still for a couple more minutes, before he distances himself. Now he looks like the Spencer you see everyday, he's flustered.

And you're too.

"I'm sorry", he says looking you in the eyes. "I shouldn't have left my feelings take control"

You feel strangely offended by his statement.

"What do you mean?"

He takes a deep breath.

"I always knew you wouldn't want to risk your career because of romance, so I decided to not ask you out... but now I ruined it"

"Who said I wouldn't be willing to risk it to date you?", you smile, getting closer to you.

"Well... I thought..."

"You thought it wrong"

"So... Hm... Would you like to go on a date with me sometime?", He asks and you smile, giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

"More than anything"

[dearmantis]

It all goes in vain

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x Princess!Reader

Summary: You flee from the celebration of your betrothal to a Fjerdan royal, convinced that no one will notice your absence, and hide in the only place where you know no one will find you. The generals chambers.

Warnings: period-typical sexism, the end is just a tiny bit dark

Word Count: 2.9k

Authors' Note: This isn't proofread and I'm still not a native English speaker.

Series Masterlist

Your mouth feels like it's full of ash and your skin itches disgustingly as you sprint through the gardens of the Little Palace. The building is dark and mostly empty, only inhabited by a few Oprichniki and the younger Grisha who are not expected to attend the festivities in the Grand Palace.

The celebration of your betrothal to that horrible Fjerdan royal.

No Corporalki guards to catch you and escort you back and the Oprichniki that stayed behind are all guarding the known entrances of the Palace. Perfect.

Quickly sneaking over to the windows you know lead you to the quarters of the General you realise with great relief that he must've decided to air out his office while he was at the celebration, two of the windows in his rooms slightly open, one leading to his office and the other to his bedroom. You choose the one to his office, pushing the window fully open before ungracefully climbing through, your stupid dress only making the whole ordeal more complicated and exhausting.

It only gets worse when you're finally through, your relief short lived when you notice that parts of your skirt got stuck on a splintered piece of wood in the old window frame. When you don't immediately manage to free your dress the tears come, all the frustration from the last few days finally overflowing and overwhelming you. You give up, fingers digging into the fabric of the fluffy, expensive dress before pulling, ripping a big slit into one of the many layers.

As soon as you're free you push the window closed and pull the curtains to block out even the last bits of light, then you fall to the ground behind the large, dark desk, pressing a hand on your mouth to stop yourself from wailing.

The tears running down your cheeks are hot and burn in your eyes but you can't stop yourself, not anymore. Today was simply too horrible to hold onto your self control and bottle everything up any longer.

The last bit of proof that you needed to know that you will never get out of this marriage. This is it. The celebration is the last piece of evidence required. You will be send off to Fjerda in hopes of strengthening the political bond between the two countries despite the fact that Fjerda has been sending their Hexenjäger across the borders without consent from the Ravkan Crown to kill Grisha for centuries now, refusing to apologise and refusing to stop.

If it was only the soldiers of the second army who fell victim to the Drüskelle, people who are trained and prepared for years to fight and defend themselves, their fellow Grisha, and the country, you might be able to overlook it.

But it's not just soldiers, no. For years you've heard of more and more Grisha testers getting attacked, of children being shot, burned, kidnapped across the border to be trialed for simply existing.

You don't want the political situation to improve. You want to see the Crown of Fjerda burn, watch it all turn into rubble and silently observe as a new government rises from its ashes.

One that will be kinder, hopefully, or you will set it all on fire once more.

You can't do that, not as the wife of some Duke, stuck in the capital where people would look down on you if you ever voiced your opinions on Grisha. Saints, you're not even sure if your betrothed would let you leave the house or if you would be stuck in some kitchen for the rest of your pitiful, empty life. Considering the last few conversations you've had with him he's incredibly traditional.

How he looks at you every time you dare to voice your opinion on something, like a lousy, annoying fly, or perhaps an untrained dog.

The memory of his face makes you cry harder, body shaking with your heavy sobs. How are you going to survive this? How are you going to handle watching the Drüskelle continuously drag Grisha to the Ice Court to trial them, hands bound while sitting in the very first row to their execution? The executions of your own people, unable to do anything to help?

Bile rises in your throat but you manage to force it down again, breathing heavy in the dark office.

You don't even know why you're here. Why you chose the General's office of all places in the Grand and Little Palace. Perhaps it was a last glimmer of hope. A last ditch effort to beg for help from the one person you know hates the Fjerdan Crown as much as you do, probably more.

You're not delusional though, fully aware that he will most likely not care. The disdain he holds for the Ravkan Crown might be hidden from everyone else but you can see it in his eyes. He believes your father is an idiot, he hates your brother, and you're sure he regularly forgets your mother exists. What he thinks of you is a mystery, however, because he actually bothers to hide his emotions when he interacts with you, as if he knows that you actually pay attention.

It's unlikely that his opinion of you is much different from the ones he holds of your family, so all you can do is lay on the cold wooden floor and shake and cry like a child, praying to every saint you can think of that he's enjoying himself so much at the celebration that he won't enter his quarters again until you've calmed down and returned to your rooms in the Grand Palace.

You don't know when exactly you fall asleep, if it's during the horrible hick up or afterwards, but several hours later you open your eyes to an unfamiliar bedroom lit by the morning sun. You're still wearing your dress but your shoes are removed, your hair is no longer pinned in place and your body is covered by black sheets. Fingers carefully stroking over your cheek you're also pretty sure that your makeup from last night has been removed.

For a few minutes you simply continue to lay in the bed, enjoying the warmth of the thick blanket covering you, the memory of violently sobbing while laying on cold wooden floor still vivid in your mind, but then the door to the bedroom opens and a familiar, deep voice greets you.

"Good morning, moya tsarevna."

The General walks over to the bed, placing a steaming hot cup of tea and a bowl of semolina pudding covered in berries on the small bedside table next to you. Then he sits down on the large bed beside you, helping you sit up before reaching over to give you your teacup.

You quickly drink a few sips, a pleasant warmth spreading in your body.

"Are these your quarters?" You ask finally, giving the cup back to the general who holds it in his hands. Reaching over him to grab the semolina pudding you settle back into the pillows and start eating while you wait for his answer.

He nods carefully, as if he's expecting you to call him out for how improper it is for you, the betrothed daughter of the king, to sleep in the General's bed. Truthfully, that's your first instinct as well, all of the rules of what is expected of you drilled into your mind, but you can't bring yourself to care. Not after all of your protests and concerns about your impending marriage have been ignored.

A part of you even hopes that a servant will come in and see you two sitting on his bed, spread the rumours until they reach the ears of your betrothed, stopping the marriage in it's tracks before it can fully begin.

"Why didn't you didn't call a servant? Bring me back to the Palace?" Eating a spoon of the pudding you watch his reaction to your words. His dark eyes are stuck on the dark sheets of the blanket, distant as he thinks over his answer before opening his mouth again.

"When I found you, you were unconscious, sleeping in a puddle of your tears." He speaks slowly, his deep voice calm and calculated, devoid of any emotion. "I saw you leave the celebration, but I assumed you went to your room because of how distressed you seemed. I thought you were overwhelmed and wanted to be alone. Then, when I came back, one of my Corporalki warned me that someone is in my quarters. As soon as I realised it was you, I decided against calling the other guards. I thought that there must be a reason why you didn't return to your quarters, why you chose to hide here instead of anywhere else."

His gaze meets yours for a second but this time you're the one to look away, eyes focusing on your pudding as you try to get as many berries as possible onto your spoon. While you didn't plan to get caught in your distress by the General, you did seek out his rooms specifically to cry in. Not your own quarters where your family or betrothed could've found you, not the kitchens where the servants would see, but also not the library where no one would've looked.

No, you went to the General's quarters because some part of you sees him as safe, despite the fact that he probably doesn't like you. And if he's safe, then so are his quarters, so you climbed through the window like a bunny hiding in its burrow and cried yourself to sleep, hidden away in the comfortable darkness of the night.

"I don't want to marry him." You confess quietly, setting the bowl down in your lap before taking the teacup out of the General's hands with careful movements, refusing to meet his eyes despite how clearly you can feel his gaze burning on your cheek.

"He makes me sick. Everything about him." Drinking a big sip of your tea you think over your words, deciding how much of your feelings you truly want to reveal.

The biggest truth is already out. Might as well lift the burden from me and bare my soul to him. At least I know he will listen.

"The way he speaks about Grisha and women is revolting. I recognize that we had different upbringings, that he was raised in an environment where he was constantly told that Grisha are dangerous and evil while I was raised in walking distance to the Little Palace, but I just don't understand how he can see Ravka flourish as a nation, non-Grisha working hand in hand with Grisha, and not change his mind. How he can see my mother carefully direct my father and brother, basically ruling Ravka from the shadows, without being in awe of her wit. How he can look at me and not see a person worthy of attention and the freedom to make her own choices."

A bitter taste fills your mouth at the thought that your parents don't seem to see a person worthy of freedom in you either, but you swallow it down with another sip of tea before returning the warm cup to the generals waiting hands.

"I know that it's my duty to my family, to the crown and to Ravka. I know that I have to marry him. I do. I've known since I was a child that I would one day find myself in this situation. But for some reason I assumed..."

You look at him, unable to find the words you're looking for and hoping that you will somehow find them in his eyes. "I was hoping the person I would be asked to marry wouldn't be like him. For years I've told myself that I could learn to love anyone, if I really tried. When I first met him and heard the way he spoke of the Fjerdan women, I thought I could prove him wrong, change him. And then I saw how he looked at the members of the second army, how he looked at you, and all of those dreams shattered like a stained glass window. And my brother likes him! He agrees with him on so many topics. It makes me worry for Ravka. I'm terrified for this country. We can't go back and destroy the progress we've made over the last few centuries because of some Fjerdan royal. I refuse to let that happen, but I don't know what I'm supposed to do to stop it."

Tears well up in your eyes again and you angrily wipe over them with your hands, frustration glowing like embers in your mind. You're so angry, so incredibly angry, and you don't know what to do with all of that hate in your heart. You're not a Grisha soldier. You can't simply put on a kefta, go into the forest and rip a Drüskelles heart out of his chest or cut him in half with shadows. You can't even pick up a weapon and march with the first army, not as a noble woman. So where are you supposed to put all of these emotions?

Distracted by your own frustration you don't see the General move until you feel his hand softly pet your head like one might pet a small, scared rabbit, movements slow and consistent to bring calmness and a feeling of security.

He doesn't speak for several minutes, instead watching you as you eat the rest of your semolina pudding while the tears continue to stream down your face, dropping onto the black bed sheets. When the bowl is empty he stops petting you, instead using the free hand to place the bowl back on his bedside table before giving you the warm teacup for you to hold in your shaking hands.

"There are still ways to stop the marriage." He says finally, eyes watching your facial expressions carefully as if he's trying to predict if you're going to run out and accuse him of treason for all of Ravka to hear. You sniffle, still a bit too caught up in the whirlwind of your own mind to catch what he said, until it finally hits you and your head turns to him fully. "What? How?"

The smile painting itself on his lips is rueful and a distant look finds its way into his eyes as he looks you over. "I believe it might be better if you don't know. Some things can't be unheard. But if you want, if you're truly so worried for the fate of Ravka, I could help you. I can give you the freedom you desire so deeply."

Hope rises in you like a fish swimming upwards towards the surface for food, but you try your hardest to push it down, unwilling to fully get your hopes up in case you end up disappointed.

"Why would you want to help me? What would you get out of it, if that plan of yours works?"

His hand finds yours, fingers entwining as his eyes take in every muscle twitch, every pore, every detail of your face, desperate to predict your reaction.

"It would give me a chance to make sure Ravka, my home, will be safe."

You know there's something hidden in his words but you're too exhausted to truly think over it, instead deciding to work out the subtext behind his words at a later time after you no longer break out into tears every few minutes.

"And what do you need to help me?"

"I will need you to fulfil your duty, moya tsarevna. You will have to pay a price in exchange for your freedom. You cannot hesitate. As long as you keep this in mind I will be able to make sure that you stay safe and sound in Ravka, right at the Grand Palace, until you die, old and happy."

There's something dark in his eyes, something impatient and hungry that hasn't been there before you started to show interest in his idea.

"A price to pay." You echo, lost in thought, before nodding slowly. Your eyes find a clock sitting on a dresser on the other side of the room, waking you from the almost dreamlike state the proximity to the general has put you in, standing up slowly, hands smoothing down the skirt of your dress.

"The servants will come to my room soon to wake me. I'll have to go, but I promise to think about your proposal, General. Just give me-"

"Aleksander" He cuts you off, still sitting on his bed. "If you choose to work with me and fight for your freedom and the safety of Ravka, you can call me Aleksander. I would prefer it if you would keep this name between us, however."

You nod again, stunned by his decision to trust you with his first name. Not even your father knows it, you're sure of it. "Of course, Aleksander. I will share my decision with you tonight, if that's alright with you?"

He nods, a bright spark visible in his eyes as he hears you speak his name out loud. It must've been a while since he has heard anyone call him anything but General. "It would be an honour, moya tsarevna. I will visit you in your chambers after dinner."

-

@snowkestrel (sorry I keep forgetting you asked to be tagged for Darkling stuff)

[mtchacrvle]

-🌹𝖯𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗒 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾.

𝖸𝖺𝗇! Clingy prince X F Knight Reader.

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING⚠️: mention of stalking, obsession, mention of killing, mention of self harming, yan! Is a big big pervert. (Lots of grammar mistakes. English are not my first language I apologize if it's hard to understand)

Summary: You worked for the royal family. You serve the king. you always loyal to him as he helped your family years ago. You grew up poor with no parents by your side and you have to work to support your 2 younger sibling. The king saw that you have a potential in fighting so he bring you to the castle to try out. Since that you have been devoted to him, you see him as your savior. Bc of him you have no problem with money anymore. Your younger sibling get to live a very comfortable life. But without you realizing something or should I say someone have been keeping they'r eyes on you since day one. And they r holding themselves back from you.

......🌹.......🌹.......🌹.......🌹........

-🌹Yan! prince who felt disgusted bc his father brings you in. He don't understand why his father choose a girl instead of guys??. He felt disgusted bc your "poor" and you don't deserve to be in the castle. He felt disgusted everytime you smile or bow at him.

-🌹Yan! Prince who felt raging mad when his father announced that HE'LL be under YOUR care.?? how can someone lowly as you be taking care of him??. He's father must want to get rid of him bad. The king got mad at him saying no one was willing to be by my side bc of my temper. Well I suppose it's true. But can you blame me? I'm the prince I'm about to be the next king. I can't be seen nor be close to some lowly servant. God what would happen to my image. No princess wants to marry me.

-🌹Yan! Prince who kept on throwing tantrums like a 5 year old and pisses you off anytime he could so that you'll just give up and resign. 1 month, 2 month, 3 month, nothing. It's been almost 5 months and you're still standing. God what r you? Don't you have feelings? He felt pissed bc you aren't bothers by him. You r the first person that still here. Most servants or knights would leave within 2 day 3 if lucky but you. You last for 5 months.He knew that you won't budge so he has to turn his game a little.

-🌹Yan! Prince who started to hurt himself physically so that you would get in trouble. He hires someone ( more like threatening one of the servants ) to jump on him acting like a hitman to kill him while he's on a walk at the garden. Of course his plan is simple. You are basically attached to him like a dog wherever he goes you go. While he was walking in the royal garden he "suddenly" felt thirsty and ordered you to go and get him some water from the kitchen. You were bout to call for a servant but he stops you and tells you that he wants YOU to take it. You decline saying you have to be by his side at all times. He knew that you'll say that that's why he started to lie and that he doesn't really trust the servants and maids. He's scared that they'll put something in his water. You are considering his words and gave in. You're sure that he'll be fine. It's only a one minute walk anyways. So you left.

-🌹Yan! Prince who laughs at your stupidity and starts his plan. He told the servant to get behind him and put the fake knife on his throat. It was so perfect he knew this will bring you out for good. He then started to scream loudly and you and the other servant Including the king butler ran to where he is and saw that he is bout to get "kill". He saw your terrified face when you saw and he chuckled a little. He then whispered to the servant to push him to the ground and ran. But.....he felt that the servant didn't budge. In fact he tightened his grip and pushed the knife deeper into his throat. That's when he realized that was not a fake knife...that's the real one. At that moment he actually started to tear up from fear and actually for the first time in his life that he felt bad for what he had done. The servant whispered onto his ear saying something that made his eyes widen. "You are the reason why my fiance leaves me ..." The servant said while holding his cries . The servant then suddenly yells and claims that bc of the shit you pulled while he was serving you the king punished him so badly that his parents disowned him and his fiance left him. He closed his eyes in fear. No this can't be the end. When he started to pray for his life he suddenly felt the wind hitting his back. He no longer felt wet disgusting tears falling on his ear he didn't feel a sharp knife being held in his throat. When he opened his eyes. He saw that you knocked the servant down by hitting his head. he felt relieved.

-🌹Yan! Prince who was traumatized by the incident he sat in his room afterwards. He overheard from the servants that you were getting punished for your mistake leaving him alone. He doesn't know why but his chest tightened. He felt weird. He's supposed to feel happy that finally after months of trying to get rid of you he finally did it. Not just that he even got you punished. He was supposed to feel thrilled but somehow he didn't...the servant says that you got whipped at the back 100 times. But the king didn't throw you. Bc the king felt like it wasn't entirely your fault and based on your fighting skills it was a shame if he get rid of you just like that. So the king assigned you to be by his side. Plus the king knew that this is all his son game. But whatever it is it is still your fault bc you disobey the rules.

-🌹Yan! Prince who actually felt bad for something that he pulled for the first time. He heard the rumor saying you were by the king side now. But he's craving for your presence. His father assigned a new knight by his side and he didn't see you until 3 days later he finally got to see you again. While he was laying down on the bed he suddenly heard the knock. His knight came in and kneel besides him saying someone is here to meet him. Considering his tone it doesn't look like it's any of his family members. If it's his family members they would just come in without knocking. He taught for a moment and nodded signaling to let the person in.

-🌹Yan! Prince who was shocked to see your face after so long. He didn't know why but seeing your face made his heart beat faster. he knew he didn't see you for only 3 days but somehow it felt like it's been years. He felt warm when he saw you but quickly snapped when he heard your voice. You kneel in front of him considering he absolutely hates it when you are beside him. " My prince how r you feeling?. ". God has your voice sound so angelic before? Maybe it's always been angelic but he's the one that didn't notice that. He felt even more warmer when you asked how he was feeling. Really? How can you still ask and care for him after what he did to you. Without him realizing he was staring at you. You clear your throat and continue " Im not expecting you to acknowledge me I want to apologize for what happened. I wasn't supposed to leave you that day and it's my fault. I deserve every hit every punishment that was given. I just want to say thank you for letting me stay and serve you my prince. I know you don't care but I just want to say that I'm not mad nor felt hatred for you. " You inhaled and got up to bow to him. " And I think you are aware that I'm no longer serving you bc of what happened. I'm now serving The King. Thank you for letting me serve you my prince. ". After giving one last bow you left.

-🌹Yan! Prince who felt like his world is falling apart. No why...oh how he wished he appreciates your presence more when you were by his side. After he woke up from his sleep he went to take a walk at the garden and while he was walking he arrived at the fountain. He saw The King and you by the King side. He saw that there's a carriage that looks like a noble carriage. Then he remembers today is meeting day. Which he has to attend since he will make his debut as the king in a few months.

-🌹Yan! Prince who went into the meeting room with his new knight which he didn't even remember his name. And when he arrives the first thing he sees is you standing behind The King chair. Oh how your beauty stops him. He actually stopped walking your beauty just made his heart beat so damn fast that he was sure that the King could hear it. " Are you ready son. " The King spoke caught his attention. He nodded and went to sit near The King.

-🌹Yan! Prince who didn't even focus on meeting instead he's focusing on you. Oh how you look so pretty with your hair up. How he wondered if he would ever see your hair down. He had these thoughts on you when someone calling out his name. God it is his Father. " Are you alright my son? You look tired." . Oh no I'm completely fine don't worry bout me. Please continue.

-🌹Yan! Prince who won't stop looking at you even after the meeting ended. He doesn't know why but when you open the door for his father he feels jealous. That was supposed to be him. You were supposed to open the door for him not for his father. He quickly snapped out of his thoughts when you look at his way and bow at him while giving him a small smile.

-🌹Yan! Prince who never felt love or any feeling toward anybody suddenly started to masturbate while imagining it was your hand . He feels hot. All of his body felt hot oh how he wished you were on top of him kissing him while stroking his cock. Kissing his ear softly and whispering how much you love him, how much you crave for his touch. He cum so much that night. He didn't stop after one round. Oh no he didn't he kept on until he knew he had no cum left. And that's the day he was sure that he loved you.

-🌹Yan! Prince who has two sides one side is he always fantasize your wedding day on his mind every.single.day. that brings him so much joy. Another side of him is when he sees other nobles, knights, servants,maids get too close to you. No matter what gender, even the same gander as you. How he just wants to kill them the most gore way possible. Plug their eyes out so that they can't see your beauty any more. Cut off the hand that pats your shoulder or your back.

-🌹Yan! Prince who has a book that is twice the size of a dictionary. Everything and I mean everything. 2-3 stan of your hair, Your fave handkerchief, your fave food, drink,pet etc. The King actually knew bout his obsession and confronted him that day. He was bout to kill The King but the King knew bout it a long time ago. And he made an agreement. The King will let you by his side again but in one condition. He has to take The King place after his younger brother's party. Ofc mf says yes. He can have you back AND got to rule the kingdom a few months earlier.

-🌹Yan! Prince who became so touchy after you were by his side again. He kept touching your hand, playing with your hair. He would randomly run to you and hug you. His hug is tight so tight that it makes you feel like he's scared that you would fly away if he loosened it. And you were so sure most of the time you could feel he sniff your hair.

-🌹Yan! Prince who day by day becomes more and more bold. He would go to your room and steal your clothes. He would put his shirt under his pillow everyday and he would get mad if any servants or maid came to clean his bed. ( He doesn't want to get caught ). And that's the good thing lol he would make his own bed. Before he went to sleep he would hug and sniff the shirt and cuddle it as it was you. He would smell your underwear to masturbate. Different clothing different uses.

-🌹Yan! Prince who would win over you by changing his personality. Less rude, less stubborn. He even being nice to the servants but ofc it's all just an act. But with you? All the kindness, the affection is real. And he can't wait for him to be The King then you'll be by his side Forever.

Part 2 ? I take recommendations if you'll like ;D

[cheynovak]

Forged - Part two

Summary: Calista is a young woman who lives with her uncle and nephew since her parents died, one day 'the God king's' guards under the leadership of a knight come to town. Looking for young women to present to the crown prince Cyrus (Luke Evans) , who is in search of a wife before he can claim the throne. Calista meets the handsome Knight Ezra (Jensen Ackles) who doesn't seem to be who she thinks he is. Will she fall for the dark intriguing prince, or will she fall for the guidance and warmth of Ezra?  

Warnings: Nothing too explicitly in the story.  

English is not my first language  

Words:  6300 

Part 2 out of... I'm sorry I want to put so much into it, that it is getting to long for one shot.  

*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated*  

-- 

He swallowed, his voice steady, the atmosphere changed again. “You are exactly what my brother needs.” Confusion clouded my thoughts, and I blinked, trying to make sense of his words. “Only what your brother needs?” I asked feeling bold yet afraid to speak louder than a whisper. 

I swore I saw Ezra's lips part while he ever so slow bended down towards me. His hand dropped to my side. My body leaned into him by lifting me on my toes.   

Ezra’s expression softened as he looked away, he looked down for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “I have to go. T-thank you for...” He pointed to his side before he pulled his shirt over his head and left in the dark hallway.   

Leaving me alone, in the kitchen. 

-- 

After that intimate moment in the kitchen, Ezra seemed to ignore me for days. When we crossed paths, he would nod in acknowledgment but nothing more. During the history lessons, that he was assigned to teach the last five of us girls, he never asked me to answer nor did he speak directly to me. The distance between us was palpable, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt that gnawed at me. 

I should have never walked out of line. Ezra’s loyalty to his brother was clear, and I feared the repercussions of our almost-kiss. What if he told Cyrus? The thought alone was enough to send a shiver down my spine. That would surely be the end of my time here, and worse, I would have doomed my family’s chance at a better life. 

One evening, after another strained day of lessons and social interactions, I found myself wandering through the palace gardens. The cool evening air did little to calm my racing thoughts. I replayed the kitchen encounter over and over in my mind, wondering if I had misread the entire situation. 

As I turned a corner, I almost collided with Ezra. He looked just as surprised as I felt, but his expression quickly turned neutral. “Calista,” he said, his tone formal. “What are you doing out here?” 

“I needed some air,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. He nodded, the awkward silence stretching between us. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, I blurted out, “Ezra, I’m sorry. I never meant to step out of line. I fear I’ve jeopardized everything, I don’t like this awkwardness between us, you are the only person in this place I kind of trust.” 

Ezra’s eyes softened slightly, but he kept his distance. “You have nothing to apologize for, Calista. It’s I who should apologize.” I looked at him, confusion and relief mingling in my expression. 

I took a deep breath, gathering my courage. “Did you tell Cyrus about what happened in the kitchen?” Ezra’s eyes widened slightly, and he quickly shook his head. “No, and I’m not planning on telling him.”  

The relief that washed over me was almost overwhelming. “Thank you,” I whispered, feeling the weight lift off my shoulders. “I was so worried.” Ezra stepped closer, his expression earnest. “You’re here because you deserve to be, Calista. I truly believe you are what this kingdom needs.”  

Curiosity burned within me, and I couldn’t resist asking Ezra if he would be willing to share more details about his family. He hesitated for a moment before nodding, and without a word, he began walking towards the library. I followed him, feeling a mix of anticipation and trepidation. 

Inside the grand library, Ezra led me to a large, ornate painting that hung prominently on the wall. It depicted a battlefield, with Ezra and Cyrus at the forefront. Ezra’s eyes in the painting glowed bright gold, a stark contrast to Cyrus’s deep, dark purple eyes. The painting captured a moment of fierce intensity, their expressions a mix of determination and something deeper, more sorrowful. 

Ezra’s voice was soft as he began to speak. “This painting tells a part of our history that many do not know. My father wasn’t the original King of the Gods. That title belonged to his brother, a man of great wisdom and kindness. But my father always wanted the throne.” 

He paused, his eyes reflecting the weight of the memories he was sharing. “When our grandfather died, my father seized the opportunity. He came up with a plan to kill his own brother, but he knew that simply killing him wasn’t enough. He needed to ensure there were no heirs, no threats to his claim. So, he first killed his brother’s love and fiancée. It broke his brother’s heart, and not long after, he became ill from the grief, it weakened him. Not much later my father killed his brother, leaving him and his sister.” 

I listened in stunned silence, the magnitude of the betrayal and tragedy sinking in. “That’s horrible,” I whispered, feeling a deep sympathy for the pain that must have lingered in their family. 

Ezra nodded, his expression grim. “Yes, it was. My father took the throne, and to solidify his power, he forced Cyrus and me to become knights in his army. We were tasked with eliminating all who opposed his rule. It was a dark time, and we did what we had to do, but it left scars on both of us.” 

He looked at the painting again, a mixture of anger and regret in his eyes. “Cyrus and I were close once, but the weight of our father’s actions drove a wedge between us. Cyrus became harder, more ruthless, while I… I tried to hold on to some semblance of honour.” 

“But it’s not easy when you’re bound by duty to a man who would kill his own brother for power. Especially after the only light in his life, my mother was killed during the battles, Cyrus lost all of life's joy, despaired to prove his worth to our father. ” 

I placed a hand on his arm, offering a silent comfort. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Ezra. It must have been incredibly difficult.” My mind raced with everything he had just shared, the heavy burden of their family’s past weighing on both of them. 

After a moment of silence, I gathered the courage to ask, “Why did you step aside from the throne? You’re the eldest. It should have been yours.” 

Ezra’s expression grew more guarded, a flicker of uncertainty passing through his eyes. “I knew Cyrus wanted to follow in our father’s footsteps,” he began slowly, as if choosing his words with great care. “And I didn’t want to repeat history. I didn’t want the throne if it meant perpetuating the same cycle of betrayal and bloodshed. I will never fight my brother for something like the throne, Cyrus is smart he’ll be a good king.” 

There was a hesitation in his voice, a hint of something unspoken. I felt he was holding something back, but I didn’t want to push him. Instead, I offered a small, understanding nod. “That was very brave of you,” I said softly. “Not many would have made the same choice.” 

Ezra looked away, his gaze fixed on the painting once more. “You remind me of our mother,” he said softly, his voice tinged with nostalgia. “She was bright and determined, never afraid to fight for what she loved, especially her family. She tried to keep me and Cyrus balanced in life. Warriors but with a heart for their people. ” 

I felt a warmth spread through me at his words, a connection to a woman I had never met but who clearly had a profound impact on her sons. He sighed, a mixture of sadness and hope in his eyes. “I hoped that if Cyrus saw those qualities in you, it would remind him of our mother and perhaps renew a part of him that he has kept locked away for so long.” 

I nodded, understanding the depth of his hopes and the weight of his expectations. “I’ll do my best.” Ezra’s gaze softened as he looked at me. “You’re doing more than you know, Calista. Just by being yourself, you’re making a difference.” 

After a moment of silence, Ezra led me back to the books. We stayed up all night, delving into the ancient tomes and scrolls, learning about the responsibilities and consequences of marrying into the divine bloodline. As I read, the enormity of the situation began to sink in. 

"If you were to marry Cyrus," Ezra explained, his voice low and serious, "you would become divine and immortal. You’d be bound to our world in ways you can’t yet comprehend." I looked up at him, the weight of his words settling heavily on my shoulders. "And what exactly does that entail?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. 

Ezra's eyes softened with sympathy. "It means inheriting the power of the divine, a mystical force unique to the royal bloodline. The divine are rarely used, but when they are, their effects are undeniable." He pointed to the painting, highlighting the glow in his own eyes and the darkness in Cyrus’s. 

Ezra continued, "My divine power, the golden one, has the power to burn. When it touches a soul, it feels like being consumed by the sun's flames. Cyrus's divine power, the purple one, is the opposite. It freezes, and those touched by it feel as if they’re freezing to death." 

A shiver ran down my spine at the thought. "That sounds... horrible," I murmured. 

"It is," Ezra agreed solemnly. "Those touched by our divine power don’t simply die; their souls are destroyed, gone forever. They don’t reach the promised land. Their families are marked with a curse, a burn that signifies they, too, are doomed if they chose to walk the wrong path in life." 

"Our father used the divine power to enforce his rule, demanding that all who opposed him be killed by it. Cyrus obeyed his orders, carrying out executions with his power, while I chose to kill, the mortals, without the powers, hoping to give the family a chance at the promised land. Killing someone who had the divine running in their veins, who are considered immortal, can only be killed in a battle with the powers." 

I looked at Ezra, understanding dawning on me. "That’s why people fear Cyrus so much." He nodded. 

The more I learned, the more the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. The fear, the animosity, the heavy burden that both brothers carried—all of it made sense now. And with this knowledge, my view of Cyrus shifted. He wasn’t just cold and distant; he was shaped by the horrors he had been forced to commit, haunted by the power he wielded. 

As the night wore on, we continued to talk, the bond between us deepening with each shared story and revelation. I realized that despite the darkness in their past, Ezra wished for lightness for his brother, hoping that once their father was gone, Cyrus wouldn't feel the need to rule with such a dark shadow looming over him. 

Ezra's voice softened as he spoke about Cyrus. "He wasn't always this way, you know. When we were children, he was full of life and laughter. But our father's ambitions... they twisted him. I hope that, in time, Cyrus can find his way back to the person he used to be." 

Ezra looked at me with a hint of hope in his eyes. "That's why I brought you here, Calista. I believe you have the strength and compassion to help him see that there’s another way. You remind me so much of our mother, and I think you can reach him in a way no one else can." After our conversation, Ezra asked me about my life in the village. "How do you keep yourselves entertained when there are no parties or grand events?" 

I smiled, thinking of the simple pleasures of my life. "The children mostly play games, out in the open fields or town square, and stories are often told by the elders during traditional nights. We find joy in the little things, talking, music, dancing." 

Ezra's eyes lit up with interest. "Can you teach me one of these games? It might come in handy if Micah were to visit the palace." His question warmth my heart, he wanted to learn a game so he could play it with my nephew. 

I agreed, and soon we were sitting on the floor, playing a game that involved tossing pebbles and trying to catch them in a specific sequence. Ezra picked it up quickly, and we laughed loud and long as he fumbled and exaggerated his failures. 

Our laughter echoed through the palace halls until a sudden, sharp noise interrupted us. Someone cleared their throat. We turned to see Cyrus standing in the doorway, his expression a mix of anger and curiosity. 

I felt caught in an act that seemed wrong, though I couldn't understand why. Cyrus's eyes bore into me with a cold intensity, making me feel small and out of place. "Father needs both of us," he said to his brother, his voice clipped and commanding. 

Ezra's playful demeanour vanished in an instant. He straightened, his face turning serious. "Of course. I'll be there right away." Cyrus didn't move, his gaze shifting between Ezra and me. "Calista, return to your quarters. We'll speak later." 

I nodded, feeling a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach. As I walked away, I glanced back to see Ezra and Cyrus exchanging tense words. Whatever their father needed, it was clear that it was something significant. 

Back in my quarters, I paced the room, my mind racing with thoughts. The bond I'd felt growing with Ezra now seemed fragile and dangerous. Cyrus's anger was palpable, and I worried about what it might mean for me. 

A knock on my door.  

Expecting Ezra, I opened it with a smile, “Ready for round two?” only to freeze when I saw Cyrus standing there instead. Every muscle in my body tensed as I tried to read his expression. 

"Calista," he began, his tone formal. "Walk with me in the garden. There are matters we need to discuss." 

I followed him silently, my heart pounding. The garden was quiet, the night air cool and still. Cyrus stopped by the fountain, his face illuminated by the moonlight. "I've sent the other girls away," he said, his voice even. 

My surprise was evident. "Why?" 

"The meeting with my father was to inform him that I only want you in the palace," Cyrus explained, his tone giving away his lack of enthusiasm. "He wasn't pleased, to say the least." I swallowed hard, making a joke, in the hope I could see the softer side of this brute, the side Ezra spoke of. "Is this your way of proposing? It’s very romantic." 

Cyrus's lips didn’t even twitch into a smile. "Not exactly. I don't want to marry, but it’s a necessity. So, I have a business proposal for you. As long as my father lives, we will be officially engaged. When he dies, we will marry, but only for the public eye." 

I stared at him, trying to process his words. "Why me?" He sighed, looking out over the garden. "Because I know you will agree to this. You’re here for your family. This was already just business for you." His cold logic stung, but it was hard to argue against. He was right; I was here for my family, and this arrangement could secure their future. "I agree," I said quietly. 

Cyrus nodded, a look of relief crossing his features. "That's settled, then." As he turned to leave, I couldn't help but ask, "Is this truly what you want, Cyrus? To rule with fear and coldness, just like your father?" 

He paused, not turning back to face me. "It’s what needs to be done.” he said finally, before walking away. 

Standing alone in the garden, I felt a mixture of emotions. I had agreed to a future devoid of love, but one that would secure my family's safety and possibly bring a better future to this realm. I only hoped that Ezra's belief in compassion and kindness could someday break through Cyrus's hardened exterior. 

In the days that followed, preparations for our engagement were set in motion. The palace buzzed with activity, and whispers of the announcement spread quickly. I maintained my composure, going through the motions while my mind raced with uncertainty. 

--  

The morning began with a whirlwind, the official tour among the different realms. Marie, my maid whose name I had finally learned since she knew I would one day become her queen, flitted about, selecting gowns and overseeing a small army of attendants who styled my hair and applied makeup. Despite their efforts, a sense of unease gnawed at me. The first stop on our tour was a town Cyrus and Ezra had burned to the ground many years ago, a place where memories of that dark event still lingered heavily. 

I looked in the mirror, not even recognising myself anymore. The woman in the mirror looking back at me looked royalty, but I didn’t feel like it, this wasn’t me, but maybe Cyrus wanted to make sure I knew this was a part I had to play. I wondered how I was supposed to ride a horse with these long gowns. But I managed.  

As we arrived, the atmosphere was tense. The townspeople lined the streets, their faces a mix of resentment and forced smiles. Cyrus rode beside me, his demeanour as cold and commanding as ever. Ezra was a silent presence, his eyes scanning the crowd, perhaps seeking any sign of trouble.  

The parade moved slowly, the weight of the people's anger pressing down on me. I tried to meet their gazes, offering what I hoped was a sincere and reassuring smile, but I could feel their mistrust. The day dragged on, filled with formalities and strained interactions.  

By nightfall, I was exhausted but determined to see the town as it truly was, without the pretence of royal presence. 

Dressed in a plain cloak to blend in, I sneaked out of my chambers or should I say large tent and made my way through the dimly lit streets. The town had a somber air, the scars of its past still visible in the crumbling buildings and the wary eyes of its inhabitants. I wandered through the market square, listening to snippets of conversations and observing the townsfolk. 

In a small tavern, the atmosphere was livelier, though still tinged with an undercurrent of bitterness. I slipped inside, finding a seat in a shadowy corner of the bar. The townspeople were animated, their voices rising in heated debates about the royal family and the tour. I overheard a group discussing the horrors of the past and their scepticism about Cyrus’s intentions. 

A woman with weathered features and a piercing gaze stood up, her voice carrying over the din. “Why should we trust them now? They brought nothing but pain and destruction to our lives!” 

Her words were met with murmurs of agreement, but then an elderly man spoke up. “Maybe this girl is different. She might be our chance for a better future.” 

“No, she looks like his puppet!” another shouted, and the room erupted into a flurry of accusations. 

The bartender pointed an accusing finger at me. “Well look at this! She’s nothing but his spy!” He pulled the cloak of my head, revealing my face. Fear rippled through me as a few men stood up, their faces twisted with anger. “Well, well, well, let’s do to her what he did to our family!” 

Panic surged, and I turned, bolting for the door. I sprinted through the streets, the angry shouts echoing behind me. My heart pounded in my chest as I stumbled on the floor in the town quare. I felt the gravel scratching my skin, making my knees and hands bleed. I was scared, knowing I had made a mistake. 

I sat on the floor looking back at them. Just as I thought they would catch me, a deep dark, cold purple fire with traces of blue in it erupted around me, forming a protective barrier. The feeling was intense, but it didn’t burn me. The villagers jumped back.   

Cyrus emerged from the shadows, his presence commanding and terrifying, wearing a neat dark suit. “If you take one step closer, lay one finger on her, or even think about harming her. ” he warned, his voice low and dangerous, “and I will gladly burn this place to the ground again.” 

The men halted, their anger replaced by fear. The fire dimmed as Cyrus approached, standing protectively behind me, I felt his strong hand grab my elbow and lift me of the ground and holding my hip as he pulled me against his side. Clearly making a statement. 

I looked up his eyes blazed with fury, the purple flames reflecting in his gaze, the painting didn’t even do it justice. It was scary, and beautiful at the same time, yet something about it made me feel safe. “Do you really want to test me, mortals? You really thought I would have let you, scum, hurt MY FIANCEE!! Fools... I should kill you for your betrayal! I should curse your families and generations to come!” The purple in his eyes shine brighter when he lost his temper. 

Cyrus took a deep breath “Return to your homes,” he commanded. “Now.” The crowd dispersed quickly, murmuring apologies and casting fearful glances back at us. Once they were gone, he turned to me, his expression hard, his eyes returned back to the cold green colour. “What were you thinking, Calista?” he demanded, his voice a mix of anger and worry. 

“I...I wanted to understand them, to help, you.” I stammered, my voice trembling. “You could have been killed,” he said sharply, his eyes softening slightly. “You can’t just wander off like that.” 

I nodded, tears stinging my eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize...” Cyrus sighed, his anger melting into something more tender. “You have a good heart, people take advantage of that.”  He placed a hand on my shoulder, guiding me back towards our homebase. “Let’s get you back to the camp. You need to rest.” 

As we walked, the reality of my situation settled in. The people’s anger, Cyrus’s protection, and the weight of my role all pressed heavily on me. I realized that my actions had consequences not just for myself, but for everyone around me, including the citizens, Cyrus meant it, he would made them pay if they lay a single hand on me, and I had no idea if I should be repulsed or feel save in his hands. 

Back in the safety of my ‘chambers’, I looked at him, still shaken. Cyrus stood by the exit, his expression unreadable. “I just wanted to know how we could make them less hateful towards you.” I whispered. “Spying on them won’t help,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind. 

I nodded, feeling a pang of guilt. He turned to leave, but I reached out and grabbed his hand. He looked down at where our hands touched, before looking in my eyes surprise flickering in his. Summoning my courage, I leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.” 

He stared at me for a moment, clearly taken aback. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, surprise, maybe, or a hint of softness that I hadn’t seen before. He could have left me to die, but he didn't. 

“I meant what I said,” he told me, his voice low. “I don’t want to marry, but this arrangement is necessary. For both of us.” 

“I understand,” I agreed, still feeling gratitude. “Still, I’m grateful for your protection tonight.” Cyrus gave a curt nod, his usual stern demeanour returning. “Goodnight, my prince,” I replied, watching his lips slightly curl “Goodnight, Calista.” 

-- 

The next morning, we left early. I saw Ezra taking off, his silhouette disappearing into the dawn. Cyrus stood beside me, his demeanour more relaxed than usual. “There’s a problem back home, Father demanded his presence,” he explained, glancing in the direction Ezra had gone. “He will catch up with us later.” 

I smiled at him, feeling a surge of confidence and playfulness. “I count on your protection, my prince.” To my surprise, Cyrus smiled back, a real, genuine smile that softened his usually stern features. The warmth of it spread through me, chasing away the lingering fear from the night before. 

The journey continued, and as the days wore on, I found myself growing more comfortable in Cyrus's presence. We spoke occasionally, our conversations becoming less formal and more natural. 

As we approached the next town, I noticed the atmosphere was tense. The people watched us with wary eyes, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and distrust just like all the towns we had visited before. Cyrus’s posture straightened, his face adopting the familiar mask of authority. 

We dismounted, and Cyrus addressed the gathered crowd, his voice strong and commanding. He spoke of peace, of unity, and of a future where the realms could prosper together. I watched the faces in the crowd, seeing their expressions slowly shift from suspicion to tentative hope. 

After his speech, Cyrus turned to me. “Would you like to say something?” he asked quietly. 

I was in shock, not expecting this. But I stepped forward, my heart pounding. “I am proud to be at the prince’s side, knowing he will build towards glory for all.” His hand on my hip felt surprisingly comfortable, a reassuring presence. “I hope to learn about your worlds and wish prosperity for all of you.” 

Cyrus leaned down and kissed my temple. I looked up at him, half-expecting to see a glint of calculation in his eyes, but instead, he looked genuinely proud. There was a moment of silence, then a few hesitant claps that grew into a ripple of applause. Cyrus nodded approvingly.  

As we rode away from the town, I couldn’t help but reflect on the moment. “You handled that well,” Cyrus said, breaking the silence. I smiled at him, feeling a warmth spread through me. He gave me another one of those rare, genuine smiles.  

The journey continued, and with each town we visited, I grew more confident in my role. Cyrus and I developed a rhythm, a partnership that seemed to resonate with the people. They began to open up to us, sharing their stories and their struggles. 

One evening, as we set up camp, Cyrus and I found ourselves sitting by the fire, the flickering flames casting dancing shadows. “Do you ever wish things were different?” I asked, breaking the comfortable silence. 

Cyrus looked thoughtful. “Sometimes. But I believe in the path we’re on. It’s not easy, but it’s necessary.” I looked in the fire, remembering the first night of our tour, his magic didn’t touch me, I trusted him, I really trust him.  

The next and final town in weeks of traveling together was my own hometown. As we approached, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. The familiar sights and sounds of home brought a sense of comfort. Turning to Cyrus, I gathered my courage and asked, "Would it be alright if we stayed at my uncle's place instead of the small tent village we build in every town? I'd like to show you around." 

Cyrus looked genuinely surprised by my invitation, but after a moment of contemplation, he nodded. "That sounds... nice," he said, a small smile playing on his lips. 

As we rode into town, the villagers greeted us with a mix of curiosity and warmth. The news of my return had spread quickly, and many of the townspeople had come out to see us. I spotted Uncle Henry and Micah waiting near the forge, their faces lighting up as they saw me. 

Uncle Henry approached with a respectful bow to Cyrus. "Welcome to our home, Your Highness," he said, his voice steady despite the awe in his eyes. Cyrus dismounted gracefully and extended a hand to my uncle. "Thank you for your hospitality, Henry.  

Micah, unable to contain his excitement, ran up to me and hugged me tightly. "Calista! You’re back!" I laughed, ruffling his hair. "I missed you too, Micah. Look how much you’ve grown!" 

We led Cyrus to our modest home, and I felt a swell of pride showing him the place where I grew up. Uncle Henry had made sure everything was tidy, and a delicious aroma wafted from the kitchen, where a meal was prepared by our lovely neighbour his wife in honour of our visit. 

As we sat down to dinner, the atmosphere was warm and inviting. Uncle Henry and Micah shared stories of the town, and Cyrus listened attentively, occasionally glancing at me with an amused smile as Micah excitedly recounted tales of his childhood antics. 

After dinner, I took Cyrus on a tour of the town. We walked along the familiar streets, stopping by the market where I had so often accompanied Micah. The townspeople greeted us warmly, and I could see their curiosity about the prince who had accompanied me. Unlike the other towns we visited, the people here were friendly and welcoming, which seemed to surprise Cyrus. Giving him all sorts of presents such as food to taste.  

Back home, Uncle Henry told Micah he had to sleep with him for the night. Micah protested, saying he wanted to sleep in my bed like he used to. Cyrus noted the small single bedroom as Henry walked to his own room leaving us alone. He looked at me questioningly. 

I smiled and joked, "I'm used to sharing," as I sat on the bed. “I’m not.” he smirked. The bed was too small for two grown adults, but as we turned to face each other, it somehow fit perfectly. I looked into his eyes, noticing how the cold green had softened. I had that warm feeling again, spreading through me. 

“Thank you for this.” I started, “Are you sure you are comfortable with me here?” He asked. I looked at his hand in between us before a strangled my fingers with his. “Who else is going to protect me?”  

He looked at our hands, “Perhaps you rather had Ezra with you... to protect you.” I heard the uncertainty in his voice. I thought about that for a second, remembering he was all I could think about the first time we met. And sure, I thought about being this close to him, but I knew that was not what Cyrus needed to hear.  

“You grew on me.” That wasn’t even half a lie. “I trust you.” no lie at all. “and if you want me to be your, pretend, fiancée, I do need to spend time with you.” I whispered, “Or people will notice we never fell for each other.”  

His eyes scanned my face, making me blush, “All right.” he said.  

And so, we talked some more before I drifted off to sleep. 

By morning, I felt Cyrus's arm wrapped around my waist. I had turned my back towards him in my sleep, and his presence was warm and comforting. For a moment, I lay still, savouring the unexpected intimacy. The quiet of the early morning was broken only by the soft sounds of our breathing. 

Slowly, I shifted an inch away from him, trying not to wake him, but his grip tightened slightly as he murmured, “Good morning.” I turned to face him, a shy smile on my lips. “Good morning, my prince.” 

He looked at me with a mixture of tenderness and something else I couldn’t quite place. “Last night was... different,” he said softly. 

I nodded, feeling the same way. “It was. But it was nice, right?” Cyrus shifted, his hand still resting on my waist but he sat up, leaning on his other arm. “I’ve never slept so peacefully,” he admitted, almost as if surprised by his own words.  

“Neither have I,” I confessed, my heart pounding in my chest, and I wasn’t a lie, even the grand bed with silk sheets at the palace couldn’t make me fall asleep as fat as I did last night. 

A silence washed over us. His eyes searching mine before he leaned in. His hand moved to my cheek, brushing a strand of hair out of the way as if he was looking for something, perhaps my reaction or a sign of doubt. I swore I could feel his lips so close, his cold fresh breath on my warm skin sending shivers down my body. He was going to kiss me and I was not even trying to stop me.  

Micah burst through the door. “GOOD MORNING!” his voice filled with excitement. Cyrus and I quickly pulled apart, both of us startled by the sudden intrusion. I felt my cheeks flush as I looked down, trying to regain my composure. 

“Good morning, Micah,” Cyrus replied, his tone trying to sound gentle and warm. 

Micah, oblivious to the moment he had interrupted, ran up to the bed and jumped onto it, squeezing himself between Cyrus and me. “Did you sleep well, Calista? Did you have enough space?” He looked doubtful to Cyrus. 

I smiled, ruffling his hair. “Yes, Micah, we did. Did you?” “Oh no! Uncle Henry doesn’t know how to share a bed!” followed by “But he made pancakes! You have to come and eat before they’re all gone!” 

Cyrus chuckled, the tension from the moment before dissipating. “Well, we can’t let that happen, can we?” Micah left before either could say more. I couldn’t help but glance at Cyrus as he put on his shoes. He wasn’t as broad as Ezra but he was as beautiful as a bright night filled with sparkling stars and a full moon.   

He caught me staring and gave me a knowing grin, I blushed and turned away once. As we made our way to the kitchen, I was wondering what might have happened if Micah hadn’t interrupted. Would he have kissed me? Was it a test?  

The smell of pancakes greeted us as we entered the kitchen, and Uncle Henry looked up with a smile. “Good to see everyone up and about. Come, sit down and eat. We have a long journey ahead.” 

Cyrus caught my eye across the table, and for a brief moment, we shared a look that spoke volumes. There was something unspoken between us, a connection that had been growing stronger with each passing day. I thought I saw he had the same questions about the moment we just shared.  

The travel back to the palace went smoothly, and once we arrived, I directed my uncle to follow the staff who would show them around. Since Cyrus requested a moment alone, we took a walk through the palace gardens. The evening air was crisp, and the garden was bathed in the soft glow of twilight. 

Cyrus turned to me, his expression serious but kind. “Thank you for inviting me to stay with your family. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this... normal.” 

His hand found its way to my waist, pulling me closer. I felt a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. I looked up at him, wondering if his lips would feel as cold as the divine fire he wielded that night. My heart raced as our faces drew near, and I tried to steady my breathing. 

Just as his lips were about to touch mine, a familiar voice cut through the moment. “Good to see you’re safe home, brother!” 

Ezra stood behind us, Cyrus breathed out like an angry bull, a flicker of purple power visible in his eyes. He looked over his shoulder at his brother with an unreadable expression, but I noticed a hint of irritation in his gaze.

Cyrus and I quickly pulled apart, I was still startled by the interruption. Ezra’s eyes landed on me, they softened slightly as he turned his attention to his brother. “I’ve been looking for you. Father send me, we have matters to discuss.”  

Cyrus nodded, “Of course.“ Though his gaze lingered on me for a moment longer. "We’ll talk later.” He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to my cheek, his lips soft and warm against my skin. It was a brief, tender gesture that sent a shiver of both warmth and longing through me. 

As Cyrus walked toward Ezra, I noticed the somber look in his brother’s eyes. The bright green that usually sparkled with a fierce intensity was now shadowed with a deep sadness that was trying to say something to me.  

I wanted to asks what was wrong but before I could even open my mouth he turned away.  

------------------------------------

Tag list:-> I keep a different list for this story because it is different from the other stories I write. If you want to be added please let me know!

@jackles010378 @headinthemoon87

[haganezukawaifu]

𝑅𝑜𝓈𝒶 𝒟𝑜𝓁𝒸𝑒 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝟨

~𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼 ~ 𝓜.𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽~ 𝓝𝓮𝔁𝓽 ~

My sleep was interrupted by a smell that woke me up. I sniffed again and it didn't smell like smoke. I jump out of bed, leave my room and walk downstairs. The moment I got downstairs, I saw Cordelia in the kitchen, cooking. I checked the time and it was 5 am. So early. I walk into the kitchen and the sound of my feet patting on the floor alerts Cordelia to my presence.

Seeing me, Cordelia said, "I knew you will awaken." I cross my arms and look at the pan. "How can I not when you're making my favorites?" Cordelia chuckles softly. "I know I will not be back until Sunday evening. But I had to start on your dinner so you don't have to worry about cooking when you get home and breakfast as well," she said as she set a pancake on a plate. I nodded my head as she cooked. From what I could see, she made homemade pancakes for me and croque madame for her. Her favorite meal. Seeing that she had finished cooking, I asked Cordelia.

"Hey. Cordelia. Do you know Latin by chance?" Cordelia hesitates before responding "Not really. I'm not skilled at it. Why. Are you studying Latin at school?" she asked. I shook my head and lied "There is an essay for English. And some words are in Latin. I just need to translate them for my paper." Cordelia nods her head in response before putting food in the fridge. "Well, I have a Latin-English dictionary in my office. You can use it for your essay," she says. "That's very helpful. I'll use it for my homework before bed," I said.

I had to know what those words meant. I couldn't talk to Alice. I haven't seen her for two days at school. Speaking of school, Bella was taken home during biology. I didn't expect her to be weak from the blood smell. However, Edward took her home, which shocked me. The next day, he didn't show up. Something about camping in the Goat Rock Wilderness. Which was weird. I wouldn't expect Edward to be the camping type. Looks more like an indoor person to me. I saw Cordelia take off her apron and hang it up and double-check everything in her daily routine before leaving. A habit she does that I now do occasionally. Once she did that, she stopped in front of the door and asked, "Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" "I can reschedule this meeting and work with you." As I shook my head, I could tell she was worried about me. "I'll be fine. Now go to your meeting and enjoy Seattle," I said as I grabbed her hands and held them. Cordelia smiles and nods. I let go of her hands before grabbing her luggage.

"Okay. I'm off. I'll let you know when I get to the hotel. Call me when you need anything," Cordelia said before pecking my head. I nodded my head in response. As she exited the front door, she walked to her black BMW. I wave goodbye as she waves back and gets into her car. I watch as she pulls out of the driveway. I sighed. It was 6:20 when I checked the wall clock. There was no point in getting back to sleep so I ate breakfast. I don't have to be at the shop until 8 and open up, so why not eat breakfast before getting dressed for work. I wore a simple beige jacket with a graphic tee, jeans, and boots. Nothing special. I grab my keys and my backpack. I double-check everything before leaving home. As soon as I exit the door, I lock the door and walk to my car and get inside. I drive straight to Aphrodite Garden.

The shop wasn't far from home. It was close to Newton's Olympic Outfitters and bookstores. It was 20 minutes away. While driving, I listened to my music. Once I arrive at the shop, I park my car and sigh.

'Okay, Christine. You can do it. You can handle a shift alone. Nothing but floral arrangements and phone calls.'

I exhale, open the car door, and get out of the car. I grab the shop key out of my bag and unlock the shop. The moment I open the door, the bell rings. Time to work. I turn on the light and walk into the back and set my things down in Cordelia's small office. I grab my lavender apron with my name and the shop emblem on it.

"Welcome to Aphrodite-." I stood there and saw Bella. "Hey," Bella greeted. "I thought you were heading to First Beach." "Your lights were on so I assumed you were open," Bella replied. I nodded my head. "I have to put things up before flipping the open sign. I thought you were already off to First Beach," I exclaimed as I picked up a box of plant pots and walked off. "No. We're waiting for Lee and Samantha," Bella replied as she shook her head and followed behind. "Didn't you invite anybody?" I asked. "Well I asked you but you're working and I asked Edward but he declined and he said he doesn't think Mike will like him over," Bella responded. I set the pot down by the delphinium. "I see. Maybe he wants to have you all to himself. I mean he did take you home on Wednesday," I say as I look at her. She looks away as she blushes. I chuckle at her bashfulness.

Before I could say anything, I heard the bell ring at the entrance door. "Welcome to Aphrodite-." I saw Mike standing at the entrance. "Hey. Bella. We're ready to go," Mike replied. In response, Bella nodded and said, "Okay." Mike noticed me. "You know Christine? Since you're Bella's friend. You can come along whenever you get off," Mike suggested. "You know that would be quite inviting Mike but I have to work a full shift here. Maybe next time." I smiled gently. "Okay then. Let's go, Bella. You can sit up front in the passenger seat," Mike said. "See you later," Bella said. I wave goodbye as Bella and Mike walk out. I checked the time and it was 8. Well, I'm officially open. Time to work.

After waiting, I didn't get a customer until 30 minutes later. She waited for a florist arrangement for her table, and I was happy to help. After I helped the lovely customer, the day proceeded as it should. I packed up some orders for funerals, weddings, newly born, birthdays, etc., and kept the flowers watered and fresh. Hydrangeas need attention today. I also advise clients on flower combinations. I also had to get updated orders from suppliers. Cordelia calls periodically to check on me, of course. But I was glad to hear her voice. Hours had passed and it was time to close the shop for the day. I sighed. I made it through the day. I began to sweep the floor, wipe the counter, etc. Once I did, I reviewed Cordelia's checklist and completed every task. After hanging up my apron, turning off the lights, and locking up the store, I left the shop. I saw Bella's truck but not Mike's car. Maybe they aren't back yet. After shrugging my shoulders, I drove home in my car.

After a 20-minute drive, I finally arrived home. I got out of my vehicle, stepped inside, and hung my keys on the key hook. I walk into the kitchen and get out the dish Cordelia made this morning and put it in the oven. The good news is she prepared it for me and I only have to put it in the oven. While that was cooking, I walked upstairs to Cordelia's office. It was time to find out what those words meant. I ventured into Cordelia and grabbed her Latin-English dictionary, and began my research. During my search, I came up with a few translations of my own.

'Thus it has always been, and thus it will always be.'

'Life is short, art is long.'

'No one is above the law; it is right and always will be.'

'No one is above the law; it has always been this way and always will be.'

'Life Short Artis.'

So many translations and none make sense. After a while, I put things into perspective, and an answer came to light.

"Life is short, Art is long. Death yours; life mine. No one is above the law. Thus it has always been and thus it will always be."

What does that mean? Life is short. Death yours. No one is above the law. It has always been and will always be. I have so many questions yet I don't know the answers to any. I open my laptop and search once more, this time for my longing question. As I sought to answer the question of my longing, I searched online. Something about those red eyes? Why do I dream of them? What does it mean? I typed on my computer.

'What does it mean to dream of someone you have never met?'

As soon as I clicked on the enter button, multiple results appeared. The top answer was destiny and longing to be with them. Soul Mates it said.

A soulmate. Those red eyes. They are my soulmates. But if that is true, where are they? Do they see me? Do they know I exist? I snap out of my thoughts as I hear the timer downstairs in the kitchen go off. I walk out of the office and reach downstairs to the kitchen to take my food out of the oven. Cordelia's dish looks delicious and tastes good. After dinner, I read "The Great Gatsby". I remember reading this book 2 years ago. It was quite enlightening. After finishing a couple of chapters, I fell asleep. I tried to fight it as much as I could but resisting sleep became a failure. Soon I drifted off to sleep the next day.

I slowly opened my eyes and found myself in a familiar location, back in the room. Only this time I was different. I stood at the door. What would this door lead me to at this time? I open the door and walk inside. I was in a library. Full of books that reach the sky. I couldn't recall so many classics. Some I had never heard of. I reached out to touch the book's hardcover until I heard the door open and hide. All I heard were footsteps and nothing more. While I waited for them to leave, I remained silent. I couldn't stop my heart from beating so loudly.

"Tesaro. Why do you hide?" I heard. "Your heart beats quickly. Don't be afraid. Come. Show yourself," said another voice. A different voice. But this voice had a gentle tone to it.

Standing there, I pondered my thoughts. Should I show myself or stay hidden? I had to know who these figures were. Taking a step, I turned the library shelf corner and saw three figures looking at me. As I stood in front of them, I analyzed their features. The three of them were quite different from one another. One had long jet-black hair and translucent skin. The other had snow-white shoulder-length hair as his skin was pale and translucent. Lastly, the last man had black hair that was shoulder length. His skin, on the other hand, was pale. Both were tall and average-built. However, their eyes conveyed a sense of comfort and kindness in addition to their beauty. I was stunned. I sat on the floor looking up at them.

"Come, Cara Mia," the jet-black-haired man said as he extended his hand toward me. I hesitated to grab it until I extended my hand to touch his. The moment our hands touched, he held it with care as I slowly walked toward him. He never let go of my hand as we left the library. The moment we walk down the hall, we stop at the window. He turns to face me, as I did, and the two men beside him turn as well. There was silence as the man that held my hand pecked on my hand palm. I let out a gasp as I stared at him. He looks at me with adoration as he reaches forward to touch me. But before he could.

I awaken from my sleep and lay there for a moment. I lifted my hand into view, the same hand he pecked. His touch was delicate and his lips were soft. The way they looked at me, their beauty alone was all I could think about. Suddenly the phone rang, causing me to snap out of my train of thought. Must be Cordelia. I ran downstairs to answer the phone. "Hello," I answered. "Hey, Christine. It's Bella," I heard on the phone. Bella. I checked the clock and it was 5 a.m. So early. What is she doing calling me this early? "I didn't wake you, did I?" Bella said. As I shook my head, I replied, "No, you didn't. I just woke up anyway." 'Oh' is all I heard on the other line of the phone. "What is it? You're calling pretty early?" I said. "Well, I have been doing a bit of research lately," Bella told me.

'Research'

"What research have you been doing?" I asked curiously. "Well you know I went to First Beach today," Bella mentioned. In response, I hmm. In addition, Bella mentions that she met someone named Jacob Black. "Jacob?" I asked. "Charles bought the truck from his dad," she said. 'Ah' is the only sound I make. "Was that it? That you met someone named Jacob, whose truck your dad brought?" I inquired. "That's not it. Jacob told me some old stories that shook me," Bella added. Stories. I asked her what kind of old stories and she answered "It was about the Cullens." My eyes widened as I heard Cullen's name through the phone. What about the Cullens? "I'm sorry. Did you just say the Cullens? What about them?" I asked. There are stories about the Quileutes, she told me. Some claim to date back to the Flood where they tied their canoes to the top of the tallest tree in the mountains to survive like Noah did. Other claims that they descended from wolves. "Then there were the cold ones," Bella said.

'The cold one.'

"Jacob told me that the cold one's stories were old as legend. His great-grandfather knew some of them. He made a treaty with them to keep them off their land," Bella said. "A treaty. So was he like a chief or something?" Bella replied, "He was a tribal elder and the cold ones were enemies of the wolves. But not just any wolf, but werewolves as he called them. Despite his great-grandfather's truce with them, the cold ones claim they do not hunt humans. That they somehow feed on animals instead." Werewolves. Cold ones. This story has so much. But I only have one question.

"How does the cold one have anything to do with the Cullens? They can't be the same as the legends he told you about. Could they?" I wonder. "He said they were the same." I sat there quietly. As per legend, the Cullen could not be the cold one. "If the Cullen are the same as those in the legend, they are what?" I asked. Through the phone, Bella replied "Blood drinkers Jacob told me. Or in other words,"

'Vampires.'

I stood there in shock. There's no way. It can't be. Werewolves. Vampire. They can't be real. Only books and movies depict them. Vampires sleep in coffins. They don't walk out in daylight. During the night, they feed on humans. It just didn't sound like the Cullens. "Christine. Are you still there?" Bella called out to me. "Umm. Yeah. Just a bit overwhelmed. I just don't think the Cullens are vampires," I replied. "I researched, and there are different vampire myths held throughout the world, such as Danag, Varacolaci, and Stregoni benefici. I also compared it to each myth. Speed, strength, pale skin, eyes that shift color," Bella said.

My mind wanders back to that school day. Before the accident. The day Edward stopped the van from hitting Bella. As well as the pale skin, the eyes. Not only were there comparisons to them but also to the figure in my dream. Could Edward be a vampire? "And there was more. Some say some vampires can be drawn to you and appear in your life," Bella said. "That would explain my dreams." "Your dream?" Bella inquired. Before realizing what I had said, I was silent. Did I just mention my dreams? I heard Bella call my name as I sighed. I couldn't hide it anymore. If I need to tell anyone, I can tell Bella. I can trust her.

"Bella. I think it's better if I come over. There is something I need to tell you.”

[annab99awritersdream]

For the Headcanons Game

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

OC: That One Elf ™

Thank you for the ask!

Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanons and That One Elf.

[I'll name him at some point, but I feel like he'll always be That One Elf in my head].

A little bit of context first.

Though he's very much a Fëanor-wannabe, he only admires Fëanor's smithing skills and actually vehemently despises the person Fëanor is/was. He did not join his kin in Middle-earth to retrieve the Silmarils and thought the whole Oath thing was complete bullcrap and a colossal waste of time. He is a kind, very eccentric person. He's a weird guy, especially compared to other Elves. His home and the way it is decorated is very much in line with his eccentricities.

He owns a palatial home in Tirion—a sort of family estate—which is basically Versailles on a much smaller scale. He's obsessed with gold and diamonds, so there's plenty of that in every room. He loves mirrors because he loves to stare at his beautiful reflection at any given time and his bedroom walls are basically covered in mirrors and self-portraits in various outfits. He has a wig room—I do not know how his obsession with wigs started yet, but he has thousands of them—and he chopped off his hair because he hated the idea of having to comb it and style it every day. He loves wigs because they're more "practical" (his words, not mine). Too bad that he spends hours styling them with ribbons, pearls and diamonds. My dude is obsessed with diamonds. He could easily braid his real hair in half the time he spends styling the wigs but...that's what he enjoys, I suppose.

In addition to the wig room, he also has a smoking room. That's where he stores every kind of plant he can get his hands on and his tobacco stashes. He meets up with Bilbo and the Hobbit introduces him to pipeweed. It's love at first sight for him (or love at first smell, I guess) and he basically creates an indoor greenhouse to grow both athelas and pipeweed. I'm not sure whether pipeweed is native of Valinor, actually. Though I suppose Bilbo and Frodo could have imported some of it from the Shire. It's my new headcanon. And yes, That One Elf does smoke athelas. That's probably why he's the only sane Fëanorian one can have an interesting conversation with. He's very pleasant to be around.

To be honest, if he could he would probably smoke grass as well. It's my headcanon he went to Yavanna quite a few times and straight up asked her if she had some good stuff to share. He'll probably tell Sam and Pippin all about it and Pip will eventually build a shrine in his honor and worship him like the legend he is. They'll be best buddies. It is also my headcanon that Olórin and That One Elf did test one another's knowledge about pipes and had smoke puff battles. Manwë doesn't know by the way. He would probably have a heart attack if he did.

Back to the main topic: he's a collector and adores statues and it's highly possible that he sculpted a few busts of himself he placed both in his yard—it's basically an English garden—and in his study. Self-absorbed much? Maybe just a little.

He loves fountains too so add a couple of those as well. The more stuff, the better. His dining room is basically a Roman triclinium—nope, he doesn't eat at the table like normal people, he's that extra—and his bed is huge. Silk bedsheets and pillows because that's the bare minimum, of course. Velvet curtains and silk everywhere. The kitchen is the most spotless room in his house—did you seriously think the guy could cook? He's as bad as Éowyn, maybe even worse. He also has an entire ballroom to his own, a ballroom full of mirrors. The more mirrors the better. He has two wine cellars but he doesn't really drink Valarin wine. He's stoned out of his mind most of the time, so I guess that makes up for it. His house also has a drawing and music room. He plays the piano and the lute. He's a composer and write his own songs. He usually drinks several pints of ale as he practices the piano and I'm quite certain all the alcohol he consumes kind of affects his singing. Don't tell him though. He is very kind but he has a huge ego. I'm also sure he's a major Bagginshield shipper and cries his eyes out when Bilbo told him his story. He also has a copy of Bilbo's book in his study.

That's all for now, I think. I'll tell you more if I come up with additional deets!

Thank you again for the sending in the ask and I'm sorry that it took me so long to reply!

[fante-di-denari]

CAN’T HELP FALLING IN LOVE (English)

Description: A night with the moon in the high sky, Price dance with his partner and do an important question

Warnings: none, just two dumps in love, fluff. I'm sorry if this have grammar mistakes, English is not my first language.

TagList:@yeyinde

Spanish version

Masterlist

It was a warm night in the safe house, it was outside of a town somewhere in the world that was important enough to have the Task Force 141 and one of the units of Santos Vega together on that mission.

The captain begins to look after the sub commander the moment he had finished checking up both teams, they decided to stop and rest before the final move. He looked for his love in the living and the hall, but found him when he entered the kitchen. He found him outside, in the back garden’s porch, he was leaning on the railing of the fence that prevented one from going to the grass, he noticed the smoke from the cigarette and how he had gotten rid of his sewn braid, his hair could be seen moving with the wind and how the moon illuminated his figure. He approached calmly, making a soft noise when he stepped, announcing that he was coming and while he did so he smiled sweetly, damn he loved that man, he listened to both teams discuss whether it was a good idea to play music or not.

–Hello my love.

He leaned by his side, watching him, watching his face from the side, how it moved to look at him- no, that word was superficial, he was watching him with his honey eyes, as sweet as real honey, full of feelings, full of life and love.

–Güenas amor –He whispered, approaching him, feeling his warmth and resting his head on his shoulder, he handed him the cigarette, he noticed that it was one of those you can arm yourself –. ¿want some? Maybe it won’t be like your cigars, but have quality, made by my own hands –The brit accepted the proposal, holding the cigarette butt between his fingers to inhale and return it, exhaling the smoke a few seconds later, making sure that the smoke does not hit his love in the face. In the background they both could hear their teams continue arguing, Ghost, Kamari and Gaz said that it might not be good for their safety, but Soap, Phoenix and the Argentines said that it was not going to be like that, that they were sure –. They're going to kill each other if they keep arguing like this – he chuckled, looking into the house.

–Yes, but it helps them to not think about tomorrow.

He also looked inside, shook his head, looking back at his sea, how his cheeks formed two small holes every time he smiled, simply beautiful.

– take a picture, they last long. – Sanma's smile made him stifle a small laugh and smile at him in a cute way.

– Yeah, but that means someone could see it and they'll know I'm dating the best man in the world. – he expressed softly, placing his hand on the opposite waist.

– That would be nice, they wouldn't flirt with you – He smile at him in the only way Martin know how to

– But they would also try to take you away from me.

–u’te vah a ser el único pajuerano al que mi corazón le va a pertenecer Jo. (you are going to be the only outsider to whom my heart will belong Jo) –his voice was low, but full of love and affirmation, the captain had gone dumb admiring him, softly music began to be heard, a slow song, apparently the two Scots and the Argentines had won, the melody was one of Presley's.

The Brit glanced inside and then looked at his lover, tucking the lock of hair that hid his eyes behind his ear, to smile at him, a silent question as he offered his gloved hand, his smile widening as he watched him place his hand on his own after putting out the cigarette, they both moved a little away from the railing, with one hand on the argento's waist, his lover's hand on his shoulder and their intertwined fingers, they started to move gently, to the rhythm of the music.

Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can't help falling in love with you

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin

If I can't help falling in love with you?

There’s no words, no need for them, because with their looks said everything, how much they love each other, how much they worry about the future. Price was taller than Martin, so he had to Price was taller than Martin, by three inches, but he still had to bend down a bit to kiss his love's silky hair.

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

They both felt the looks of four of their soldiers and how they smiled looking at them, happy with those little domestic moments that appeared when both teams got together. They liked to see them interact, how they looked at each other, how they cared for each other, how they both spoke each other's language fluently, the little acts of love they did, inside and outside the fire, the four of them watched as Price admired the Argentine under the moonlight.

Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help falling in love with you

-I want something like this. –Express Colibri, one of Ferrero's sergeants, receiving an "same" from the Scots and her partner.

–I want to dance like this in our wedding.

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

He proposed in the middle of the dance, turning his sea around and attracting him again, provoking a tender and mischievous smile from the shortest, and the excitement in the spies in the kitchen, they felt that the proposal was coming.

–I don’t see a ring in my finger Price, I think you have to propose first to can dance it. –His smile was big because of the anxiety of the conversation, his heart raced at the image of both of them dancing at their possible wedding with their family and friends looking on.

–You are absolutely right, love –He stops the dance, looking at him in the eyes, he grabs both of his hands and kisses them above the gloves –Let me marry you and make you happy.

–¿Que? –he asked surprised and smiling, watching his love

– What you heard honey, marry me, when we retire we can live in a house like this, far from the city, have dogs and horses, even children if you want, but let's have that life together and let me make you the happiest man in the world. – he spoke serious, but with hope in his voice, he observed his love's smile, how it broke into a nervous laugh and his eyes crystallized, he saw how he nodded.

Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help falling in love with you

For I can't help falling in love with you

–Yes I want, John, I want to marry you. – He laughed nervously as he drew his now fiancé into a kiss full of emotion and both crying, at the end of the song "La Resaka '' by Supermek2, causing laughter from both commanders and the anger of the Argentines.

–¡Wacho, rompieron el momento! (Dude, you broke the moment!) – The other sergeant exclaimed, looking at her partner, who had changed the song by the time the previous one ended.

–Me deprimía. (It depressed me)

–¿Vos ves que me importa? (I look like i care?)

–De última pone algo que los británicos entiendan, pelotudo (At least, put something that the British understand, asshole)

– Congratulations Captain, Lieutenant. –While the Argentines were fighting with their partner, the twins approached their superiors to congratulate them.