#Sitting outside painting with your dog sounds like a lovely idea

[fidgetspringer]

[whore-ibly-hot]

Hello and Happy Holidays to you! I've been a lurker of this blog and I just gotta say that your Boarding School Series heals me, my crops are thriving, skin cleared, grades immaculate, all that- /pos

I hope asking for some info about the teaching staff would be okay? Regardless of if its general or a little more specific, what are each of the staff member's envisioned future with the reader? (Staring [dis]respectfully at all of them)

LETS GOOOOO! The crops are looking good, my anons won't starve! Now let's see....

Mr. Burton: As far as what he sees for him and the reader, he wants to get back into the art scene. Maybe not through his own work, but as a dealer or even a critic. He doesn't want a huge mansion, to much upkeep, but a nice studio in a big city sounds just perfect. He wants you sitting pretty by his side, his muse for paintings and photos. Of course, he'd never display or seel that art, it's a personal passion project. He wouldn't necessarily want kids, but would be 'meh' if not a little annoyed if some came along. Still, the idea of raising a prodigy... He's also the kind of guy to refuse to get a pet but gets very attached to whatever animal you move in with. A kitten? He's using its paws to make those dumb little cat paw paintings online? A dog? He's training it to bring him the brushes and gouache.

Coach Koslov: He loves coaching, the schools athletics department is thriving, and he's happy working with star athletes. However, he wants you away from here. It's simply not healthy, all these boys. You need a man, him. He's got a big home, from his days of being an athlete and olympian, for galas and parties. However, it's long empty now. He'd love to bring life into the home again, get you, and two big ass dogs. He goes for runs frequently, and he would love a pair of bruisers to take on walks but cuddle and love all the same. Children? He worries he's too old for them, but if you insist, he'd get through it and realize how much he wants them. An orthodox Russian wedding, even though he's not religious it's a cultural thing. He'd be a doting dad, the kind to strap the baby to his chest before a run. He's also one of the dad who insist on swim training for the babies safety but sobsnwhen the instructor pushes them in the pool. Little league? Hell yeah.

Critch: He's a simple man, he likes quiet nights of reading at home, and a clean home with a cup of warm tea. He'd want to be traditional, marrying you in a pretty white dress, regardless of your gender, carrying you over that threshold and making you his. Hes expect you to cook and clean, again, regardless of gender, but in return he'd spoil you with travel to luxury places and home upgrades. Experiences, not pointless material items, as he explains to you. He has no pets of his own, but he's a frequent bird feeder oddly enough. Finds it relaxing. He's far to old to want to have a child with you, but he is one for discipline and creating a better, 'proper', future for someone, so he wouldn't be against adopting someone, just older than a toddler.

Kory Koffman: I made a post about Kory already, but to summarize he wants a nice home with plenty of kids, who he can teach and nuture. He's very focused on giving them a life he didn't have, one where he was lonely and outcasted from other kids. Luckily, he always had his mother's love, and he wants his kids to experience that too. He'd be a great dad, saving up the moment you even mention kids to get a bigger home. He'd love a cat, someone snuggle to curl up on his lap while he reads. Or a fish tank with native fish, he loves the sound of running water.

Mr. Murphy: He's the kind of guy who wants a big ol' house outside of city limits, a farmhouse with land for a couple chickens, maybe goats, and a forest nearby for good hunting and fishing. He comes from a big happy family, all boys, and he wants a huge wedding despite not being one for pageantry. You're special, you've made an impact on him and you deserve a grand wedding. Once your married, he'd want a housewife to; like his mama. Cooking and cleaning while he works, coming home and kissing you while helping you finish a stew. Then laying in bed, maybe taking a roll in the hay. Sounds perfect. He'd go to the shelter with you for a big dog, but somehow leave with the oldest, crustiest senior dog they had. He knows what it's like to feel insecure about being past your prime, seen as gruff and not worth someone's time. It hurts him, so know you've got a rickety little yelper scurrying around the house and laying on his daddy's lap. He wants kids, as many as possible to fill up that farm house of his, but i can sense he's a bit of a girl dad. Family camping trips are frequent, he wants his kiddos as interested in nature as he is, not just how to hunt and kill, but to appreciate it.

[onskepa]

We need a so'lek x human x neteyam

Idk if you can do with three characters (but i hope you do)

Nothing out of the blue (got it??)

They are like a couple, but the na'vis are showing love to their tawtute. What i meant is that so'lek and neteyam aren't romantic with each other (gay)

Or if you're not comfortable with this, the reader could be their favourite tawtute. Nothing romantic, just being affectionate :)

Hellooooooo darling~!

So for this one, it will be like platonic fluff. I hope you are ok with this! Enjoy~!

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

Pxoeng

[it makes sense to me]

Friends who grew up since diapers will get very comfortable with each other as time passes. Would call each other silly nicknames, refer to the other as family, or practically become family. They are close, where one cannot function without the other. As their lives orbit around the other. Friends can come as two, or in three. A trio if you will. 

A trio is different from a duo. With a trio, you can dominate and conquer anything. Three is a crowd? No, three is a party. A party with inside jokes, fun memories and a perfect balance. Truly an unbreakable bond. 

Which leads us to three certain people. Neteyam, Pxoeng, and so’lek. They are peak example of ‘three is a party’. You have the bright bubbly personality, the mature mother, and the crackhead street dog. You guess who is who. 

“Is it poisonous?” Neteyam asks a bit worriedly, in front of him, his silly little idiot. Pxoeng, a human who likes to test things with her life. And sanity. “I don't feel anything, it tastes kinda sweet” she replies after eating a thick gooey substance leaking from a tree. Licking her lips, she lets the taste settle down, staying still for anything. 

“We can always go to mo’at if anything happens” neteyam offers. Pxoeng nods in agreement, with that settled they continue on their walk. “Or we could go now” a deeper voice followed behind them. Turning around they see an unpleasant so’lek. Arms crossed, frown deep, and clearly not happy with pxoeng’s little stunt. The human girl frowned, matching his. 

“I won't die from it. I ate plenty of inedible things and I am alive. Live a little so’lek, "she says. Rolling his eyes he turns to neteyam, “if she pukes, it's on you”. Neteyam shrugs and doesn't mind at all. “Lets go, we still have ways to go” so’lek says, taking the lead of the walk path. Pxoeng and neteyam followed suit, one on each of the older na’vis side. “You sure seem a bit grumpy today, did someone take the last of your favorite?” neteyam asks so’lek. It doesn't take a word out of his mouth to respond but so’lek gave his answer with a grunt. 

“I know! For lunch let's gather some of your favorite mushrooms to make your favorite stew, how does that sound?” Pxoeng suggests. Giving a moment of thought, so’lek nods. “Yes, that would be nice”.

The three continued on until they reached their destination. Their little piece of heaven, ‘Arch heart’ as pxoeng named it. It was a comfortable little cave, filled with paintings, food, hammocks and among other things, built to feel like a second home. Away from their main home. 

Neteyam entered first and began to roll up some screens to let more light inside. Pxoeng grabbed a fruit and dumped herself onto her hammock and so’lek sits on the edge to enjoy the view of the outside. 

For a while neither of the three said anything, just doing their little tasks here and there. Letting the silence be the comforting sounds to soothe them. It is their favorite part of the day. Just the three of them together in their solitude. No tasks, no chores, no one to take time off of their day. Just pure tranquility. 

“Ok ok, how about…..we use some pali’s to pull the cart and maybe the ikrans can carry it on here. Aaaand whala! We can have nice comfy bean bags in here” Pxoeng explains her little idea after they had a nice hearty dinner in their cave. 

Night arrived, so to be more comfy, so’lek still sitting on the edge but this time pxoeng and neteyam joined him. Pxoeng sat on his lap while she laid her head on neteyam’s lap. Doing as his mother taught him, neteyam calmly massages pxoeng’s head as so’lek squeezes her thighs from time to time. 

“But aren't bean bags easy to tear? The ikrans would tear it apart with their claws” Neteyam says. His playfully boops his nose, “that is why I said to use a cart. So that the bean bags won't get damaged”. 

“No bean bags, the hammocks are enough” So’lek interjected. The other two look over at him in slight confusion. “But you like the bean bags,” Neteyam says. So’lek looks at him then back at the sky. Slightly smirking, the boy playfully shoves the older’s shoulder only to receive an annoyed hiss. “No no, he is right. You are the first to body slam on a bean bag. Wouldn't it be nice to have some here and not sit near the edge like…an edgy anti hero” Pxoeng says. 

So’lek sighs, not tired, not annoyed, just a sigh. 

“Fine, 

“YES!” 

“But you and neteyam are carrying them all the way up here” 

“What?!” 

"But they are heavy...” 

So’lek lets out a hearty laugh as he enjoys their expressions. Especially Pxoeng. Neteyam calms her down by stroking her hair. Pxoeng lays her head on neteyam’s head as she starts to play with so’leks fingers. 

“Fine, we will carry them, but they are for us and none for you so’lek” 

“Now hold on

Aaaaaaaand that is it for this one! Sorry if it was short, but its short and sweet! Until next time! See ya!

--------

Pxoeng = We, three, inclusive

[questioned-quetzalcoatl]

WRITING IDEA FOR UUUU BABY <333

Zeaonga drabble with Kainga being a suffering art student like the poor bby they are, with the task of painting an anatomy piece. Unfortunately, James seems far too willing to help out ;) PAINT HIM LIKE ONE OF YOUR FRENCH GIRLS-

'Brushstrokes'

Rating: T

Pairings: New Zealand/Tonga (Hetalia)

Variation: University/Student AU

AN: My urges to make this smutty were chained up like a dog outside of Ikea, still it has (though poor) Nsfw descriptions. But this sounded like such a fun prompt I couldn't resist, and James just walking around butt naked in their flat is cause for much hilarity.

I don't know how to describe male anatomy, either, so this should be fun. Paint him like one of your french girls Kai 💅

---

"For gods sake, can you not sit still for five minutes?"

Came out as more of a desperate plea then might've originally hoped. Mainly because it forces the shift of their eyes back to the completely bare-ass naked man laid across his couch on his side like he was posing for some Renaissance piece.

He even brought grapes and everything like some Roman emperor.

“Are yer sure ya don’t like me and yer not a pervert because, ya could have asked anyone to do this." 

They supposed they'd half expected him to just dodge the question, cocking an eyebrow at him instead. "I did ask." They insisted first, taking another stroke of their brush across the canvas to look away from the growing smirk on the others face, "...and everyone else was busy. I'm no social butterfly, trust me when I say you were my last option. No matter how much you begged."

"Fat chance Kai-boob, I bet yer just wanted to see me naked~"

Kainga furrowed their brows in an attempt to block out his voice, their eyes trailing his body for each tone, dip, sharp and rugged curve, it only now dawned on them how perfect of a model they'd chosen. They'd seen his body time and time before, the man walked around severely lacking a shirt half the time, now they felt like they were in some badly shot porno with one of the University's top rugby players. Their glasses slipped a little.

"On your couch nonetheles-"

"James if you don't shut up and stay still I'll pour paint water down your throat." God why did he have to be so hot?!

Trying to avert their eyes from going lower and lower down the body of the man who was built like an actual god, Kainga continued their rough starter of an outline with the basic shapes and pose they wanted. Their face scrunched up, deciding if they were pleased with any of it. Though with how wriggly their subject was being, they decided on just keeping it.

"Almost done over there Da Vinci? I wanna see it!" James shifted himself into the smugest way possible as Kainga peered back around the canvas on their axel, unashamedly, the other's ego seemed to bloom as he finally caught Kainga's eyes right on his exposed crotch. How does that thing fit in his pants?

"Are you kidding me?! I just started, it's been 10 minutes."

"Well how long does it normally take?!"

"Longer if you keep moving!" They snapped and threw a paintbrush half heartedly at his face. Causing James to try and block it, poorly.

"Well however long it takes I bet it's going to be a masterpiece."

Kainga blushed a little at his sentiment, as if he was actually complementing their skills in the medium of art. About to ask if he really meant it for a heartfelt moment that would ultimately end up with them both on the floor, naked, covered in paint and making out in the heat of it al-

He probably meant a 'masterpiece' because he, James, was the focus. And that he did mean.

Surprisingly, James was quiet for a couple of minutes. Probably just to admire himself like this, but Kainga had a little more progress completed. They'd given up on trying to be dainty with not looking too much at his body, they couldn't help themselves at this point. The pink on their face indicated that like a positive pH test.

And oh, James noticed alright. He loved it, loved the feeling of being quietly admired by them in their flustered state. He just knew.

"Enjoying yourself there sugar?~"

"Not as much as I'm going to enjoy shrinking your dick down in the rough sketch."

"W-what?!" Suddenly James was up like the alarm sirens for 'Someone thinks you have a small dick' alert was going off. "Kai that's just cruel! Everyone needs t' see this masterpiece of genetics in all it’s glory.”

"If I keep it full size it'll be distracting from the rest of it." They retorted with a smirk, oh the power they held within that paintbrush was enough to send the Kiwi on their couch into hysterics like a primate. Finally they chuckled with how red James had gotten. “...Well, you’re always free to use it to convince me otherwise~”

[the-knight-tree]

The third light celebration the knight tree family special

Scene 1: The Candle and the Atmosphere

Location: Living Room

Snowflakes fall outside, blanketing the world in silence. The Knight House is alive with activity, each family member immersed in their day.

Diana: dad! Slow down! My gosh (laughing) you crashed twice

Oak: hi I am getting the hang of it just a bit more practice... I guess (laughing)

---

Scene 2: Oak's F1 Adventure

Location: Computer Desk in the Living Room

Oak sits at his computer, gripping the steering wheel controller with fierce determination. The screen displays the sharp turns of an F1 racetrack.

Diana (standing beside him): "You’re braking too hard, Dad. Ease up, or you’ll spin out again."

Oak nods, focused on the race, but the car skids wildly, sending him into the gravel. Lucy watches from behind, her laughter echoing through the room.

Diana: "dad, you just caused a ten-car pileup!"

Oak (laughing): "Well, at least I’m consistent."

Diana leans over, patiently demonstrating the correct moves on the controller.

Diana: "Here, like this. Feather the throttle. You’ll nail it on the next turn!"

Oak: feels like a normal car ride to me and I am bad with it

Diana laughing at her dad jokes

Diana: gosh just try not to steal to hard on the corners

Oak: fine fine not that hard... (He crashed the F1 car) Ok that is hard

---

Scene 3: Lana's Writing Corner

Location: Living Room, by the Fireplace

Lana sits cross-legged in an armchair, her notebook balanced on her knees. She furiously scribbles notes, pausing occasionally to mutter ideas.

Lana (to herself): "The villain sets a trap, but she uses her wits to escape. Hmm, or maybe she outsmarts him first..."

Her brow furrows as she erases a sentence, rewriting it with more fervor.

---

Scene 4: Nina's Mischief

Location: Yoga Room

Nina crouches behind a couch, suppressing giggles as she slides a whoopee cushion onto Deborah’s yoga mat.

Deborah stretches into a downward dog position, and a loud noise interrupts the serene atmosphere.

Deborah (sitting up abruptly): "NINA! You’re impossible!"

Nina (laughing hysterically): "You fell for it again! Yoga is supposed to be fun, right?"

Deborah: you are messing with my zen gosh I love you but you are unbelievable

Deborah sighs, shaking her head but unable to hide a small smile and small laugh.

---

Scene 5: Donna's Art Studio

Location: Dining Room Corner

Donna stands before her easel, dabbing a brush into her palette. She carefully paints her father’s portrait, her focus entirely on capturing his essence.

Donna (to herself): "Just a little more detail in the eyes. That’s where his warmth shines through and.. finally."

Sunlight filters through the window, illuminating her canvas as she adds the final touches.

---

Scene 6: Victory Lap

Location: Back to the Computer Desk

Oak finally completes a clean lap, earning a cheer from Diana.

Diana: "Yes! That’s it, Dad! You’re getting the hang of it."

Oak: "Professional racer in the making, right here."

Lucy leans down and kisses his head, her tone teasing but affectionate.

Lucy: "You’ve got the spirit, but maybe leave the real racing to the pros."

Oak: "at least I tried"

The sound of laughter fills the room as the family continues to enjoy their day, each scene brimming with love, mischief, and creativity.

Scene 7: The F1 Aftermath

Location: Living Room

Oak lets out an exaggerated sigh, slumping back into the chair as the “Race Over” screen flashes for the umpteenth time. He leaves the room and goes to Lucy to sit next to her.

Oak: "That’s it. I’m retiring from racing before I even started."

Lucy, now sprawled on the couch, giggles at his frustration.

Lucy: "Don’t quit your day job yet, ok let's see what we have to binge."

She grabs the remote and begins scrolling through Netflix, settling on a random show while Oak stretches his arms.

Lucy (glancing at her watch): "Oh no! The menorah! We need to light the third candle."

Oak’s face brightens, and he moves to the dining table where the menorah is set up. Diana and the rest of the family gather around as Oak leads the prayer.

Oak (in a warm, deep tone): "Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha'olam..."

The family watches as the third candle is lit, its glow joining the others, creating a serene moment of togetherness.

---

Scene 8: Squid Game Troubles

Location: Living Room

After the prayer, Oak and Lucy settle back on the couch. Lucy clicks on Squid Game, intrigued by the buzz it’s gotten.

Ten minutes in, she clutches a pillow, her eyes wide.

Lucy: "Nope. Nope. I can’t do this. How is this entertaining?!"

Oak, on the other hand, chuckles at her reaction.

Oak (teasing): "What? Can’t handle a little intensity?"

Lucy: no! Why they kill people? This show is so weird

Oak: it's just a show of you want to change let's change to something fun.

He leans over and plants a kiss on her forehead, his laughter deep and infectious.

Suddenly, the elt sound in his ear, followed by a similar sound on Clark’s ear to fly to smallville.

---

Scene 9: The Call to Smallville

Location: Smallville Barn

Oak and Clark rush to the barn, the cold December air biting at their faces. When they step inside, they’re greeted by Lois, who stands in the center of the barn with a wide smile.

Lois: "I’m so glad you both came. You mean so much to me in completely different ways."

Oak looks around, puzzled. The barn is adorned with string lights, balloons, and decorations he doesn’t recognize.

Oak: "What’s going on here?"

Clark, however, grins knowingly.

Clark: "Lois and I planned this together."

Lois steps forward, taking Oak’s hands in hers.

Lois: "You’ve never had a real birthday party, or even a celebration, Oak. So we thought, why not now? You’ve been more than a friend—you’re family."

---

Scene 10: The Montage

Jordan and Jonathan emerge from the shadows, wheeling in a projector and screen.

Jonathan: "We put this together for you."

The montage begins to play, showing clips and photos of Oak with the Kent family:

Oak helping Jonathan learn to ride a bike (resulting in a broken arm but big laughs).

Oak encouraging Jordan during his first attempts at walking.

Family dinners, trips, and quiet moments where Oak was always there, a steady and comforting presence.

The barn is filled with laughter as everyone shares memories.

Oak (tearing up): "You two really did this? Why?"

Lois (smiling): "Because you’ve always been there for us, Oak. You deserve to be celebrated too and it's our turn to give you back for all this years."

---

Scene 11: A Surprise Visit

Location: Smallville Barn

The barn doors creak open, and Oak’s family walks in, surprised by the gathering.

Lucy: "We didn’t know we were crashing a party! Lois called us so we had to come."

Diana, Lana, and the triplets beam as they take in the scene. Soon, everyone is mingling, sharing stories and laughter.

---

Scene 12: Closing the Night

Location: Barn, Late Evening

The night winds down as Oak sits in a corner, his heart full. Lois and Clark sit beside him, each resting a hand on his shoulders.

Oak: "This has been... incredible. Thank you. I never thought I’d be lucky enough to have this kind of family."

Clark: "You’ve always had us, Oak. We’re just making it official now."

The family gathers for one last photo under the string lights, their laughter echoing into the crisp night.

A little love for oak please 😎🙏❤️ this guy deserves it.

After all he is me in this story so if you are new here thanks for reading this story of knight tree is my life and my entire dream I feel like Stan lee no one reading until it will happen and I am hoping someone out there read the fun heartwarming stories I put here it means to me alot oak aka knight tree is based upon me my dreams my goals and my world I love especially superman because I am still relate to his story so he is part of this story too I made the superman story from the TV show superman and Lois of the CW that ended in season 4 and I wanted to continue it with my story and my own twist on it i am hoping you like it as do I making it.

[fangurk]

Puppy Love (The Cullen Family x Child! Werewolf! Reader)

Key:

Y/n - Your Name

Y/h/c - Your Hair Color

Y/e/c - Your Eye Color

Y/f/c - Your Favorite Color

Y/f/f - Your Favorite Flavor

Prompt (given to me by @inrice): but could you do something along the lines of the cullens (mainly alice) takes upon the job of raising a werewolf!reader? who's a child of course.

Summary: Alice Cullen stumbles upon a very strange, very lonely child while out on a hunt and, in true Cullen fashion, decides to take them home. Nobody knows how to take care of a werewolf or a child, but when they put in a collective effort (and bring in the help of Bella) things start getting easier...

Warning: Is this kidnapping? It might be kidnapping, fluff, slightly angsty at some parts, AU because Caius is cruel, and potentially odd genderless terms of endearment.

A/n: family fic makes the brain go brrr. so like i didn't really know how to handle the whole werewolf thing because the twilight lore is so... bare... and i wanted to write more on the family parts so it's not like a real focus but it is mentioned quite a bit. I hope that's okay! /gen

Word Count: 1.2k+

Alice wasn’t able to foresee you.

She simply stumbled across you one day on a hunt, your tiny body curled up at the base of a tree. You smelled so much of dog she almost mistook you for one, and then you looked up at her with big y/e/c eyes and she knew.

Carlisle wasn’t very happy when she brought you home.

“The Volturi will have a field day with this.” He says as he repacks his doctor bag. “The child is dangerous to have around.”

“But they're all alone, Carlisle. You said it yourself, they looked like they were out there for days— and I waited there with them until nightfall, no one came…”

Her shoulders fall and she looks at the door separating them from the rest of the family.

“Oh please just let them stay, we’ll all take care of them— if anything we’re better suited for it than anyone!”

Carlisle opens his mouth to protest but is interrupted by Esme opening the door, you asleep in her arms. All of his hesitance melts away at the sight, and at the sound of your small snores.

He sighs. “Fine, the child can stay— but we have to be careful.”

Alice nearly erupts with her joy, and Carlisle tries to hide a smile.

──────────────────

They give you a nice bedroom.

Rosalie, Alice, and Esme take an entire day to shop, nearly clearing out three children’s stores in the process. They build you furniture and they paint the walls a pretty shade of y/f/c; you now own more toys and clothes than a kid can possibly comprehend.

You spend the day with Emmett, the only Cullen boy who’s comfortable getting close to you, and he introduces you to the wide range of children’s cartoons. Your browsing ended with Crashbox, something that had the big man far more into it than you, but it was fun nonetheless.

“Want to see your room, Y/n?” Rosalie hums, poking her head around the corner and flashing you a dazzling smile.

The ladies let you wander around the new space, excitement brightening your features.

Emmett is still enraptured by the TV long after you’re put to bed.

──────────────────

Most days are good days.

Even if two of the family members seem a little afraid of you, you’re happy. You’re fed and clothed and loved.

But then there are bad days.

You wouldn’t eat. Nothing Esme made you was satisfactory and you were too upset and overwhelmed to let anyone know what you wanted; everyone tries to comfort you, even Jasper with his powers, but none of it really seems to work.

And then Edward comes home.

He left at some point during the crying and everyone figured that he was just bailing ship like he usually does when it comes to you. But, in reality, he somehow managed to get a cohesive reading of your mind and immediately went to someone who could help him.

“I brought Bella.” He says, gesturing awkwardly at his equally awkward girlfriend when five sets of frustrated eyes land on him.

“And I brought chicken nuggets…” The brunette human raises the bag up with a smile.

Everyone watches in confusion as you perk up a bit.

“Uh, here.” Bella crosses the room and places the bag down in front of you.

You open the bag and immediately start eating, sniffling but no longer upset. Every Cullen is reeling in shock.

“Well. What do you have to say to Bella?” Alice clears her throat, giving you an encouraging smile.

“Thank you, Bella.” You mumble, mouth full of food.

“Oh- it was actually Edward’s idea.”

You turn and thank him, beaming, and he gives you a crooked smile in return.

Afterward, Edward doesn’t really avoid you anymore.

──────────────────

‘Children of the Moon’ don’t pass their lycanthropy onto their offspring.

Alice doesn’t like to think about it, but sometimes the implication that someone bit and infected you consumes her mind and it makes her want to cry.

──────────────────

On the days they go to school, you do too.

They figure it’s good for you to spend time with other kids your age, and it seems to be. You always come home with crazy stories of playtime adventures and smelling of paint and crayons; the teachers love you, or more so the bright little woman who picks you up from school.

“Draw your family.” The teacher encourages one day.

You draw the Cullens.

When you proudly hand it to Alice when she picks you up from school, she lifts you up in a hug. Jasper frames your little drawing and puts it up next to all of their graduation caps.

──────────────────

The full moon is pretty horrific.

In order to keep everyone safe from your tiny claws, they keep you in the basement. For hours before the transformation, you just lie down there and wail-- you’re only little, it’s only fair.

Alice sits outside and talks to you the whole time, her voice wavering and her hands shaking.

She doesn’t move after the wails turn into howls, even if it would be safer to do so.

──────────────────

“Does Jasper hate me?”

You’re wrapped up in bandages, sitting on the picnic blanket with your adoptive mother and eating a sandwich too big for you as her husband pretends to do something down by the water. Alice is completely blindsided. They’ve sort of explained what they are to you, and you’ve kind of filled in blank spaces to the best of your ability, but she’s still unsure how to explain Jasper’s hesitance.

She doesn’t wind up having to.

��No,” He says, sitting down next to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “I don’t. I’m actually quite fond of you darlin’.”

That alone seems to satisfy you and, over time, he loosens up a bit.

Jasper seems happier than he has in a while, listening to you talk about things little kids talk about, and Alice watches fondly with a smile.

──────────────────

One of them reads a story and tucks you into bed every night.

Most times it’s Alice, sometimes Jasper joins in.

Tonight is one of those nights. You’re clean and showered, dressed in a cute little pajama set, and nestled under the covers; she’s lying down next to you, Goodnight Moon open in her hands, and he’s in a chair next to the bed.

“... goodnight noises everywhere.” She finishes, smiling at your drooping eyes and lulling head.

Carefully, she unwinds herself from you and, with the help of her husband tucks the blanket under your sides. You tug your favorite stuffed animal close to your chest, y/e/c eyes closed, and a smile on your little face.

“Goodnight, y/n.” “Night, kid.” They each say, Alice bending down to kiss your head and Jasper opting to stand there and smile.

“G’night mom and dad.”

Jasper’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head and he turns to face his wife quickly.

Alice Cullen, the girl who forgot half of her life, never felt more whole than she did standing in your room, holding her mate’s hand, and turning off the light as the hushed sound of a cricket’s song filled the big house...

tag list:

@batmanunicorns523

[frogtanii]

warm.

it’s too warm, was your first waking thought as you sluggishly waded through the mound of blankets that encompassed you to get a breath of fresh air (you assumed bokuto and kuroo were the culprits for your warm and fuzzy hellhole). your eyes first fell on the television playing the credits to the second or third pirates of the caribbean movie on mute, the remote haphazardly thrown somewhere to your left as though the person who did so left in a hurry.

speaking of people, there was no one left in the room as you slowly joined the land of the living. a part of you suspected everyone had gone to bed but atsumu or akaashi would’ve woken you up if that had been the case.

belatedly, you recognized voices coming from the front door and your still sleep-addled brain lit up. oh! you thought. food must be here! untangling yourself from the blankets proved to be an exhausting feat because by the time you were done, your body was covered in a sheen of sweat underneath oikawa’s sweats and sakusa’s hoodie.

ugh, gross.

you began to make your way towards the door, the blood rushing through your head preventing you from hearing the details of conversation but knowing atsumu, he was just haggling for a lower price even though you told him repeatedly, that isn’t how pizza places work tsum.

as you drew nearer to the commotion, you started to pick up on the heavy tension in the air, leaving you extremely uncomfortable. you had no idea what the cause of it was but you did know it was making most of the boys upset, who, by the way, hadn’t noticed you creeping around just yet.

a feminine voice rang out from outside the doorway and though you were still attempting to gain your hearing, the sound sent chills down your spine. it sounded saccharine, sweet, familiar, and oh so evil.

even with a head full of cotton, you figured now wouldn’t be the best time to reveal yourself, what with the clear discomfort permeating the atmosphere, but your big fat mouth apparently had other plans.

“‘tsum, just let the poor pizza lady go,” you muttered, the beginnings of a headache making itself known at the back of your skull. you were a little too caught up with the dwarf banging at your head with a sledgehammer to notice the shock that everyone in the room turned to look at you with.

a gentle hand grasped at your forearm, whispering something into your ear before attempting to pull you back to the living room, but that same familiar voice from the door kept you planted where you stood.

“oh, the princess finally makes herself known,” meiko sneered, her face finally coming into focus, striking you with pang of fear straight through your heart. “funny, i thought i left you speechless the last time we... ‘talked’.”

“ya shut yer fuckin mouth,” atsumu lunged at her but was stopped by sakusa’s arm around his waist, successfully holding him in place. meiko just giggled, taking a step into the house, her heels clicking as she glided across the hardwood floors.

in the back of your head, you noted that meiko looked unusually beautiful, her makeup flawlessly done and her outfit complementing it perfectly, almost reminiscent of how she used to be before... well, just “before”.

you watched the boys unconsciously angle themselves as a protective wall around you, the person holding your arm (who you now realized was koushi) pulling you in tighter until your back was resting against his chest.

a part of you couldn’t help but feel a little suffocated but the other, more self preserving, bit felt irrationally safe and protected around these boys. it was nice... or it would’ve been if meiko wasn’t taking herself on a tour around the house as though she hadn’t been living there for almost the past year.

“you all can tone down on the guard dog act. i’m not here to fight,” she said as she pretended to wipe dust off the island. “you’re not?” bokuto’s skeptical voice rose up from behind you, one of his hands finding yours underneath the massive sleeves of your (sakusa’s) hoodie.

meiko shook her head with an empty smile, her perfectly painted red lips stretching unnaturally wide. “no, of course not! i’ve just come here to collect.”

the boys collectively tensed around you, akaashi whispering for kenma to go find yachi and quickly. as he slipped away, you made eye contact with sakusa who gave you an imperceptible nod that you assumed meant one thing — keep her talking.

“collect what?” you asked, your voice coming out weaker than you wanted, but you hoped she didn’t notice. she cocked her head as her eyes snapped to you as if she’d forgotten you were there, but judging by her growing smirk, you knew that wasn’t the case.

“my boys of course!” meiko clapped gleefully, clicking her way over toward kuroo to run her hand over his bicep, laughing when he jolted away from her touch. “they’ve always been mine, you know that don’t you?”

it felt like a cold bucket of water had been dropped over your head. you felt frozen again, the same feeling of dread creeping up your spine as it did when meiko attacked you. in turn, you barely noticed kenma’s return who whispered something to sakusa — an action that didn’t go unnoticed by meiko.

“what’re my boys talking about? are you plotting against me?” she pouted, scooting closer to the pair. kenma visibly paled and moved to hide himself behind sakusa’s broad shoulders. “we aren’t doing anything, meiko.”

wrong answer.

“oh, we both know that isn’t the case kiyoomi. i’m not a fucking idiot.” meiko’s voice filled with venom before moving even closer still. you felt your heart beating rapidly in your chest, your hand gripping bokuto’s even tighter.

what if she brought some kind of weapon to the house? what if she hurt you? what if she hurt them?

before you could think, you were standing in front of the group, the boys calling out your name as meiko’s face lit up. “so the precious little princess wants to take a stand! let me have it then, huh? let me see what all the craze is about!”

despite the fear thudding in your chest, you stood tall, glaring at her with your head held high. “the boys are not yours, meiko,” you declared, her mouth instantly opening in protest but you refused to let her speak.

“they aren’t possessions or objects you can own and treat like shit. they are people, real living, breathing people and they aren’t mine either. they have full reign to do what they want, when they want, to make their own choices and decisions. and you know what? they didn’t choose you or me. they chose themselves and their happiness over any bullshit you or i could try and sell them. so please, for the love of god, get your shit together, put it in a box and take it to fucking therapy.”

by the end of your impromptu speech, your chest was heaving but you felt good. really good. adrenaline was rushing through your veins and you felt powerful. out the corner of your eye, you noticed osamu and daichi standing at the bottom of the stairs with something akin to awe on their faces.

yeah bitches. take it all in.

unfortunately, while you were basking in the feeling of badassery, you completely missed meiko’s eyes lighting up with pure, unadulterated,

rage.

you faintly heard someone call your name before you were taken to the ground by meiko leaping at you like an animal. the two of you scrambled about on the hardwood, her hands yanking at your clothes and leaving scratches on your skin but you were sure as hell giving her a run for her money.

you finally managed to get on top of her, pinning her arms to the ground but that wasn’t before you gained a hard elbow to the side and a bruise to your face. meiko thrashed and shook in your hold but you were not wavering, trying to keep her entirely still for...

well, for what exactly?

almost as though they were on cue, you heard the sound of police sirens wailing in the distance, growing louder as they drew closer to the house. underneath you, meiko’s eyes widened before she began fighting even harder than she’d done before, her erratic movements making it much more difficult to keep your hold on her.

luckily, you had extremely muscular men at your disposal, one of which (osamu — even though he was a dick, he was still incredibly muscular dick) held down meiko’s arms as the lapd stormed the building.

the police officers easily retracted meiko from your arms and cuffed her, taking her to the back of the cop car, despite her loud and insistent threats on you and everyone you love.

very disney villain-esque.

a kind looking officer helped you to your feet and walked you out to the porch where he began to ask you and the boys a few questions. you answered them honestly and you were genuinely proud of how well you were handling the whole situation when—

“bubs, you’re shaking.” sure enough, when you looked down at your hands, you were twitching uncontrollably, the reality of the events that just occurred finally sinking in.

you were just attacked. again.

you and your friends were threatened.

meiko was sitting in the back of a fucking cop car.

“what the fuck,” you whispered, eyes staring unblinking at your palms. the same officer mentioned something about shock, prompting all the boys to gather around you; atsumu pulled you in between him and sakusa, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, kenma and bokuto took hold of your quivering hands, sugawara and oikawa sat off to the side watching you with blatant concern, and kuroo and akaashi spoke to the officer in hushed tones.

the man nodded and shook their hands before shooting you a pitying smile and heading back to the car where meiko was waiting.

“it’s over angel, ‘s over,” atsumu muttered into your hair, pressing kisses to your forehead in between each phrase. you leaned into his touch but you refused to take your eyes off meiko who was watching the whole scene from the backseat, her eyes wide with anger, hurt, and confusion.

you didn’t bother dwelling on it, instead focusing on evening out your breathing and looking at the car drive over the horizon. you heard yachi’s soft voice calling everyone inside, atsumu lifting you up to your feet and walking with you, never once taking his hands off of you.

still, his words echoed in your head, even as yachi spoke of the end of the hyper house, even as the boys brought you to your room, and even as they all automatically cuddled around you in an attempt to get you to sleep.

it’s over. it’s all finally over.

you couldn’t keep the grin off your face if you tried.

℗ poker face

it’s over

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - OK THE TITLE IS MISLEADING THE STORY IS NOT OVER YET SKENSM (there are 2 more official story chapters before all the endings :3) also m not the biggest fan of this chapter?? so i’d love to hear what y’all think <33 don’t forget to feed me!!

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[tranzfalgar]

okay it’s time for some stardew valley headcanons for the bachelor/ette(s) so let’s GOOOO

Alex:

- he always awakes before his grandparents, and on warmer days he’ll go down to the beach to watch the sunrise.

- friends with elliot! the two of them sit on the side of the dock sometimes and just chat about life.

- knows how to make cookies, as evelyn taught him when he was a bit younger

- wary of the saloon, as he doesn’t really like the smell of alcohol and only goes into it if he’s forced to!

- if you marry him, he can and will pick you up randomly to surprise you while you’re working!

- if married, he will “bench press” your kids once they become toddlers, and it always makes them giggle

- hates the winter and gets cold really easily. on the first day of fall he’s already bundled up wanting it to be summer again.

Elliot:

- willy is like a father to him. the two of them sit on the docks and watch the fish swim by together

- sometimes he’ll braid his hair, and leah will bring flowers from the forest and weave them into his hair.

- has a rlly pretty singing voice, and likes to record piano covers in his spare time

- if you marry him and the two of u have kids, he’ll always braid their hair in the morning and tuck flowers behind their ears.

- he brings home fresh fish he caught and makes himself dinner every night. that’s why he’s an excellent cook.

- has actually caught a legendary fish before!

- his eyes change color, they can go from blue to green to brown in the same day. people call them the “prismatic shard of eyes”

Harvey:

- he’s so clumsy that sometimes he’ll even trip over air. due to this, he has little bruises all over his knees and elbows.

- his favorite animals are birds. sometimes he’ll go outside and just give them some bird seed. he loves watching them fly around.

- not only is he fascinated with planes, but he’s also fascinated with the weather. as a kid he used to watch the weather channel, and he dreamed of becoming a weatherman.

- when he needs to focus really hard, he’ll pull his hair back with a headband

- him and his mother were and still are very close, and he writes letters to her at least once a week

- he cannot cook to save his life, but he’s an incredible baker! will make you little treats if you’re friends or married

- he always wears a wristwatch, but the time is always 6 minutes behind. he likes it because it has a plane engraved into the side against his wrist.

Sam:

- he had adhd, and his stims include flapping his hands, tapping his foot and strumming his guitar

- he has a beautiful singing voice, think like wilbur soot but a bit more high pitched?

- the reason he likes cactus fruit so much is because he just plants them and lets them grow. he loves succulents because they don’t give him an allergic reaction!

- cannot play video games for shit. sebastian and abigail have banned him from multi-player games because he just sucks so bad.

- love language is acts of service, simply because he likes singing for people he cares about and doing little things for them!

- if you marry him, he will bring his guitar into the coop and/or barn and sing to the animals. they have learned to run over a greet him, since they love his singing.

- his hair is actually curly, but you’re unable to tell due to how much he gels and straightens his hair.

- has mastered the art of the puppy dog eyes

Sebastian:

- loves the hell out of halloween, but is scared of literally everything. he nearly cried watching a horror movie with sam and abigail.

- really good with a slingshot! so if he were to go into the mines, he would wreck some monsters shit with his slingshot skills

- he had glow in the dark stars on his ceiling, but removed them. he used to love the stars and space, but came to resent them because it was his sisters thing.

- he like…irl blushes. like an anime character. when he’s embarrassed, upset, flustered, his face will go all pink. everyone picks on him for it.

- has/had a crush on most of the towns singles. he is a bisexual disaster and secretly a romantic so….take from that what you will.

- a natural born ginger, but dyes his hair. he also has freckles on his nose! and he has an eyebrow slit because of a scar!!

- for some stupid reason, he takes really good care of his hands? like he always makes sure they don’t get calloused, and his nails are always painted black, despite using his hands all the time for work.

Shane:

- he cannot cook. he burned pasta noodles because he didn’t know you had to put water in the pan.

- he still has a chicken plushie from when he was a baby, and it still sits on his bed. and if he cuddles with it at night? no one needs to know.

- has a huge birthmark on his side shaped like a heart

- really good at mixology, so i think that when joja gets shut down, shane works at the saloon and makes the drinks while gus cooks. he adds a whole new section on the menu!

- friends with sebastian. they paint each other’s nails from time to time, or sit in the rain together and just talk.

- kinda strong as hell? he lifts boxes in joja for work, as well as carrying around jas, so i’m assuming he could just….pick the farmer and his friends up?

- he has the most contagious laugh, it used to be a rare sound, but now that it’s a pretty common occurrence, shane makes people laugh all the time with his own laugh.

Abigail:

- buff. she is buff as hell. her and alex work out together sometimes, since she expressed a desire for adventure. she has picked up sam and sebastian with no warning and thrown them into the ocean

- can talk to animals due to her being the daughter of the wizard! so sometimes she’ll go to marnies farm and just chat with the cows or something

- if she sees a tree, she WILL climb it. she loves it so much, it’s just so adrenaline inducing for her.

- her and sebastian tried to go into the mines before but sam stopped them because it wouldn’t have been very safe. they were all 14.

- trying to learn to play the ukulele with a little help from sam. it’s frustrating, but she really likes the sound of it, and she’s determined as hell.

- absolutely cracked at any and all video games he plays. mario kart? she will kick your ass. animal crossing? her island has 5 stars. pokémon? she always wins. you can’t stop her, she’s too powerful.

- she has glasses, but prefers contacts, since glasses would get in the way of her adventuring.

Emily:

- not only can she sew, but she also makes her own soaps and candles! any form of creation she adores.

- loves flowers, and has a lot of little potted ones in her room. she raises them, gives them little names and personalities, and then brings them to sandy and tells her all about each flower

- she can roller skate, and it’s her preferred method of transportation. she can do a bunch of fun tricks as well!

- has an eyebrow slit

- making cute little baskets of homemade gifts is her favorite thing to do for her friends. sometimes she’ll just leave them on their doorsteps for no reason other than she wants to!

- can SPRINT in heels. like even 6 inch heels she can just RUN and it scares everyone who sees it.

- she loves the sounds of birds chirping in the morning, and she’s able to identify the name of the bird by its chirping and calls

Haley:

- is able to perfectly crack and drink from coconuts. that’s why she loves them so much.

- has the worst sense of direction. she’s lucky she lives in a small town, or she’d get lost all the time

- the spring is her favorite time of year, simply because she loves to capture life coming back in those spring months. baby animals, blooming flowers, her friends on the beach or just chilling in the sun, all of it

- her most prized possession is the very first picture her and emily took as kids on their parents polaroid. it’s taped to her mirror

- has a little beauty mark under her lip, but it normally isn’t visible due to being covered with makeup!

- she’s able to do her own nails! this is because she is ambidextrous, yet she doesn’t know, because it’s never been brought up

- she fucking LOVES learning about and identifying plants, trees and flowers. she knows so many it’s crazy. she has a great memory.

Leah:

- resident true crime enthusiast and ghost hunter. she drags elliot with her around town to go hunting for ghosts. they also watch documentaries together!

- has a bunch of little scars on her hands from her artwork

- to get inspiration for works, she’ll go on walks at different times of the day, different seasons, different routes, and she’ll turn each walk into a work of art. depending on all the environment and those who she runs into, each piece is vastly different.

- animals love her, and will sometimes just follow her around for no reason. she doesn’t mind at all, she kinda loves it.

- friends with emily. they are currently teaching each other their own forms of art, since they love learning from each other!

- really good at dancing, she’ll dance while she’s working on projects and she’ll hum a song to herself

- her favorite statue was created after she went on a walk, ran into abigail, and the two of them went swimming in the ocean and stayed there as the sun set and the stars came out. she has a little crush on abigail.

Maru:

- her hair is ALWAYS tied up, it’s impossible for her to work if her hair is in her eyes

- when she was a kid she wanted to be an astronaut, because she loves the stars, but she found she prefers the science and math behind it all

- she pierced her own ears, she has little star earrings!

- watches cartoons and geeks out about them with penny when they meet up in town!

- for some odd reason, she is terrified of butterflies. no one who knows her, or even maru herself have ANY idea why, but she will run away if she sees one.

- her favorite memory was the one night her and sebastian stayed up really late as kids and snuck outside to look at the stars (back when sebastian still loved them) and they ended up seeing a meteor shower

- she presses flowers as a hobby, and just keeps them in a little notebook alongside her ideas for projects and gadgets.

Penny:

- while she’s cleaning her and pam’s home, she finds herself singing to herself. she has yet to be caught by anyone

- each day, her hair is done ever-so-slightly different. each morning, she likes to change it up, and sometimes jas or vincent will give her something to put in her hair

- also interested in ghosts, will occasionally join elliot and leah on their adventures

- she is naturally really warm, so she doesn’t have to bundle up as much during the winter. the kids cling to her because she’s like a human space heater

- has a bit of a geeky side, and she loves to watch cartoons a lot. when she can find the time, she always watches them. they being her lots of comfort.

- has a small scar on her side from when she tripped over as a child onto something sharp. she likes it because with two freckles, it makes a little smiley face

- loves the water and the feeling of sea wind in her hair. she secretly wants to learn to drive a boat, so she can feel that wind in her hair whenever she wants.

[hyungieyoongi]

Surprise

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Fluffiest of fluffs + established relationship 

Word Count: 1.5K+

Premise: Taehyung decides to surprise you with something every month while he is on tour

---

1 Month

It started with two dozen red roses delivered to your office on a Tuesday morning, white envelope tucked in between the petals. The notecard inside had a heart scribbled on it in black ink, but it was missing the name of a sender.

Your eyebrows slightly furrowed together in confusion at the mysterious delivery. You assumed that the flowers were meant for someone in an adjacent office, maybe for a birthday or anniversary. Before you could investigate further, your phone vibrated on top of your desk, alerting you to a text message.

One month down, five to go. 🌹 – Tae

You immediately pressed your boyfriend’s contact on your phone. It rang twice before he picked up.

“Hey, babe,” Tae greeted you.

“How did you pull this off?” you asked incredulously. He chuckled deeply on the other end of the phone.

“I refuse to reveal my secrets. But now that I know you got the first delivery, I finally get to tell you about my plans,” Tae said. You could practically see his boxy smile at the idea of besting you. You were nearly impossible to surprise, always guessing what present he was going to buy you or finding his hiding spots.

“Go on,” you encouraged, the floral scent of the roses filling your office.

“I have decided to surprise you each month that I am on tour,” Taehyung explained. “I don’t want you to forget about me.”

“Tae, how could I forget about you? I’m staying at your apartment. I’m taking care of Tannie.”

“I’m just taking precautions,” Tae joked. “Besides, I want you to be more in love with me when I come back.”

“Well, the roses are certainly a good start,” you teased. You paused, hit by an overwhelming feeling of how much you missed Taehyung and his playful grin when you were flirting with each other. 

You heard someone trying to talk to him on the other end of the line. You knew that your time talking to Tae would be fleeting while he was on tour; this first month away from each other had already been hard for you.

“Hey, I’ll have to call you later, okay?” Tae said apologetically, the flurry of activity going on around him getting louder.

“Of course,” you said, doing your best to hide your sudden emotions.

“Give Tannie a kiss.” You hummed in agreement to his instructions. “Oh, and make sure to think of me when you smell the roses.”

“Aish, you’re shameless,” you said, laughing. Tae could always make you smile, even when you were missing him. You both said goodbye to each other.

You sighed, looking at the roses on your desk. Five months to go, indeed.

---

5 Months

You tripped over a box sitting outside of Taehyung’s apartment door, subconsciously gripping Tannie’s leash tighter in your grip as you stumbled. You had taken the little fluff ball on a walk around the neighborhood after coming home from work so you could enjoy the cool, evening air.

There was no return address listed on the box, but you already had a sneaking suspicion who it was from.

During the second month of his tour, Taehyung ordered you delivery from your favorite restaurant, complete with a handwritten list of movies that he made the delivery driver give you with your meal. He called you soon after it arrived, telling you he had the night to himself so you two could have dinner and watch a movie together over Facetime.

Month three was hard for both of you. The halfway point made you realize how many weeks it had been since you had been able to cuddle or kiss your boyfriend, and you just wanted him to be near you. You told him during a teary phone call after a long day at work that you felt lonely, his curly hair falling into his serious eyes as he told you not to cry, that he would be home soon.

You were surprised when three of your close girlfriends showed up the next week at Taehyung’s apartment with a bottle of champagne in one hand and a black dress in your size in the other. They told you that Tae had instructed them to get you out of the house and out for the night. It was exactly what you needed.

By month four, you were anticipating his surprises, trying to guess what he would send you and when he was going to do it. He would just laugh, telling you that his lips were sealed.

A driver showed up at your office at the end of the day on a Friday, requesting that you check your messages to confirm that he was supposed to pick you up. There was an audio message from Tae telling you that the driver was taking you to the art museum across the city. You and Taehyung would often find yourselves there before close, wandering through the galleries together, your fingers intertwined. He told you in his message that you could stay as long as you wanted because he had called the museum and asked for a favor. You ended up looking at paintings for hours that night.

Now that month five was almost over, you were counting down the days until you could see him again. For now, the box with the next surprise would have to be a placeholder.

You opened the front door, letting Tannie inside before grabbing the box to open it on the kitchen counter. There was a note on the top in Tae’s scrawl.

Because I can’t be there to cuddle with you – T

There was a carefully folded, oversized gray hoodie in the box. You lifted the fabric up to your face, inhaling deeply. The scent of Tae’s favorite cologne was strong–he must have sprayed it before putting it in the box. You put the hoodie on, pulling down the sleeves to cover your hands, feeling the warmest you had in months.

---

6 Months

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I had no idea we were going to have to stay three extra weeks,” Tae said with a pout.

You gave him a sad smile, blinking the tears in your eyes away at the unexpected news about his delay. “I understand. I just miss you, that’s all.”

“I know, babe, I miss you, too. You have no idea how much.”

“We’ve made it through almost six months, right? What’s another three weeks?” you tried to joke, but Tae grimaced slightly at your forced tone.

“At least there’s one more surprise left,” Tae said with a smirk and an eyebrow raise, making you giggle. “Goodnight, love, I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Goodnight, Tae.”

After your video call, Tannie curled into your lap, seeming to notice that you were a little down. You pet his black fur, knowing that he probably missed Tae, too.

---

You didn’t hear from Taehyung for a week besides the occasional text letting you know that he was still alive. The day you circled on your calendar for his original homecoming came and went; you wore his hoodie practically that whole day wishing it was his arms wrapped around you instead.

You decided to get out of the house the next day, taking Tannie on a walk to go get an iced coffee. You sent a text message to Tae with a picture of Tannie enjoying a pup cup at the café, knowing it would make him smile. You scrolled through your Instagram feed as you waited for your order at the pickup counter, not noticing the black SUV with tinted windows pull up across the street.

Your ringtone sounded in your ears, a call from Taehyung coming through.

“Hey, stranger,” you said happily, mouthing a ‘thank you’ to the barista as you grabbed your coffee and headed out the door with Tan.

“Hi babe, what’d you get at the café? Anything for me?” Tae said, a loud gasp leaving your mouth. Your eyes frantically searched the busy sidewalk for a sign of him, but you couldn’t see him. “Straight ahead of you, darling.”

You looked across the street, eyes meeting his. His caramel-colored hair was pushed back away from his forehead, a long navy peacoat covering his crossed arms as he lifted an eyebrow at you with a smirk as if to say, are you just going to stand there?

Tannie started barking in excitement, pulling at his leash to get to his owner that he hadn’t seen in six months. You followed the dog’s lead, running toward Tae once the traffic cleared, his arms catching you, hugging you tightly. His head was buried in your neck, smiling against your skin. You were grinning like an idiot, tears staining your cheeks as you looked at him.

“Wh-what are you doing? I thought you said three more weeks, I don’t understand. You’re here!” Tannie was still barking for his attention, his leash tangling the two of you together as he ran frantic circles around you both. Taehyung smiled brightly at you, his thumb running across your cheek to wipe the happy tears.

“We actually finished on schedule, and I was on my way home when I saw your text. I couldn’t wait any longer to see you, so I thought I’d just meet you here,” he explained. “Oh, I almost forgot.” You waited for him to continue, but you were distracted as he leaned forward, his lips barely brushing against yours.

“Surprise.”

---

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[hoebaring]

Forever | A Kim Taehyung One Shot

His forever, her. Her forever, him. Each other's. No other way.

Tags/Warnings :- A proposal. That's it. An attempt at writing tooth rotting fluff😂. Way too short to even be considered a one shot but yeahh. This is just a small drabble I tried writing based on a small scenario I thought of when I saw a picture of our beloved Tae.🙂

Cross posted on Wattpad

Written by Author G

Word count :- 1.1k Words

Masterlist

****

"I absolutely love this.." Y/n sighs, leaning her head against Taehyung's shoulder as she takes a moment to admire the peaceful grayish tint in the clouds, the rain pouring down with a pitter patter on the clean streets right outside their patio.

"And I love you" Taehyung retorts with a lovely smile, wrapping his right arm around her to pull her in for a side hug as a small blush paints her face before she whispers out a small 'me too babe'.

He stares down at her, adoring the way she shyly goes back to reading the novel in her hand, hands fidgeting with the pages, trying to distract herself from the butterflies by making a tiny dog ear with the page although she would definitely hate the crease it was bound to leave later.

There's a gust of cold wind that blows, making them shiver, the hammock they are seated in rocking side to side. Taehyung pulls Y/n closer, cuddling her as if to shield her from the cold rain as she takes his large hand in her smaller palm, squeezing it comfortably.

"Your hands are soo cold. How come you're not freezing your ass off right now?" Y/n asks indignantly with a laugh to which he simply shrugs, chuckling lightly.

"Ahh. I wish we could stay like this forever.." Y/n sighs out, a warm smile gracing her face.

"Mhmm" Taehyung agrees, thoughts wandering about, imagining a life with her, forever. He loved the idea. The thought had occurred to him many times over the last 3 years, but he had always pushed it away, scared that it would be too early for her, scared of rejection even though she had never given him a reason to doubt her.

However, right now, there weren't any of those silly insecurities that filled his heart, not enough room with all the love and care for her that occupies it instead.

Forever sounds beautiful..

****

Dreamy. That's what Taehyung thinks the situation before him looks like. Seated opposite to him is Y/n, a perfectly frilled maroon summer dress adorning her, the beautiful locket he had gifted her on their 2nd year anniversary complementing the floral design on her dress elegantly, eyes sparkling bright with the reflection of the fairy lights hung in beautiful strings around the fancy diner they were at as she smiles at the waitress, letting her know that the dinner was delightful.

It was a wonder as to how merely watching her smile could make him feel like a teenage boy all over again. Palms sweaty, anxious chatter eating away at his mind as he goes over the small speech he prepared and rehearsed over a million times in front of the mirror, trying to perfect every single word and expression, wanting to be the man she would want to spend the rest of her life with.

Taehyung watches as she gets up to leave, only to see her stop once she notices him not moving from his seat. Sitting back with a frown, she speaks.

"Is everything alright Taehyung-ah?" Y/n asks once she notices his tense, nervous demeanor.

He is about to respond with a 'yes, don't worry' before getting up. However, he doesn't. Instead, he responds truthfully.

"I- I just have something to say"

"Ok.." Y/n voices out, nodding her head with a smile despite being anxious since his tone didn't give way to any hints as to what he wanted to speak about.

This was it. The moment where he would speak with confidence. Be her prince charming. The one and only.

But no. He is robbed off of his words when she looks into his eyes, waiting for him to speak. It was as if the short monologue he prepared never existed. Speechless.

That's when he realizes something mesmerizingly beautiful. He realizes how that beautiful smile of hers represents his happiness. How those beautiful eyes of hers leave him wordless. How she represents, no, is his world.

She doesn't deserve mere words that he had memorized from a piece of paper, even if he spent hours, days writing them! No. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it from the heart. Truthfully. No matter how 'un-princely' or 'imperfect' it might sound.

"There's no, uh, right way for me to tell you this"

"It's alright. Go on babe" Y/n smiles, though anxious, unsuspecting.

"There's no right way for me to tell you about this because there's too much for me to say." Taehyung smiles nervously as Y/n listens intently, still anxious

"I can go on and on about the million, tiny reasons that I've fallen for your eyes." He confesses truthfully, sure of his next words and moves as he sees her smile lovingly. 

"I can go on and on about the million little reasons that I'm in love with your smile. In love with you" Y/n feels her eyes tear up once she understands where he's going with this. She knows what he is going to say next, and she knows what her answer will be.

Taehyung's hand reaches into the inner pocket of his dark blue coat, pulling out a small, black box. "But, there's only one way for me to say that I want to spend the rest of my life with you Y/n" A tear trickles down Y/n's smiling face, and Taehyung wipes it away to which she giggles with a sniffle.

"So, Y/n" Taehyung finally breaks into a bright smile as he stands up from his seat and walks over to her, gently taking her hand in his. He opens the box to reveal a graceful silver ring, a small diamond delicately placed on it.

"Will you marry me?"

Y/n had always thought of marriage as a fragilely strong bond. If one was lucky and wise, it could bring immense joy, and peace to a person. To have their loved one willing to be there for them through every step in their life from that sacred moment, sharing both happiness, and suffering. What better person to spend life with, than the one who brought out the best in her? What better person to be with, than him?

"Yes!" She cries out with a smile and a nod of her head, tears of joy streaming down her face as she gets up from her chair to engulf Taehyung in a tight hug, who gladly scoops her into his arms, laughing.

"I love you so much.."

"Me too babe... Me too." Taehyung whispers back lovingly.

A roar of applause rings through the diner as he slips the ring on to her finger, a smile gracing his face once she hugs him again delightedly, uncaring of the audience they now had, too engrossed in the happiness she felt.

This was it. The forever that she had always wished for.

And it's beautiful..

[mrswhozeewhatsis]

Traditions

A/N: This is for @thesassywallflower for the @spnfanficpond's Secret Santa Fic Exchange! (I had to pinch hit for the person who drew your name because they had a family emergency, so I hope you like this quickly-written thing!) They listed a few different pairings they would like, and my weird brain said, "SHOVE THEM ALL IN THERE!" Well, that wasn't physically possible, but I fit three of them in, somehow. Not beta-read because I'm a savage and time is a cruel mistress.

Summary: This is technically post-15x19, but in a canon-divergent world where certain folks are somehow back because reasons.

Pairings: Dean x Donna, Sam x Eileen, Cas x Meg

Word count: 1230 words

Sam landed so heavily next to Dean that he sent the gliding seat flying back hard enough to nearly tip the thing over. It was a pea-green two-seater outdoor gliding rocker that had been Donna’s grandparents’ from sometime in the early ’70s, but she kept it greased and looking good. Dean appreciated the work she put into it, just like Donna appreciated the work Dean put into Baby. He shifted to counterweight his moose brother and successfully stopped an accident from happening while glaring at the culprit.

Sam was so drunk his cheeks were bright red and his eyes rested on somewhere near Donna’s garden shed, completely oblivious to how he’d nearly knocked everything over. Dean wanted to grunt at his brother in disapproval, it would have gone well with his mood, but Sam looked to be in a similar mood.

“I love how much Donna and Eileen and Cas and Meg are getting into the holidays, but man, I don’t think I can listen to another version of The 12 Days of Christmas. That last one was just dogs barking, I think? Who comes up with all of this stuff?”

Dean sat back, his shoulder next to Sam’s since Sam was slumped down sloppily from being so very, very drunk. He shook his head and grunted in agreement. “Life was simpler when it was just us on the road with skin mags wrapped in newspaper for presents.”

Sam mimicked Dean’s earlier grunt of agreement and sighed while they both looked out across Donna’s snow-covered backyard. Little flakes were falling, but not enough to really add anything to what was already there. Colored lights lined the eaves of houses and covered trees and bushes, prettily lighting up the neighborhood where Donna lived. If it weren’t for the music and raucous laughter coming from inside the house, it would have been something out of a Norman Rockwell painting.

“Do you think we’ll ever get used to normal holiday stuff like this?” Sam asked, trying and failing to sit up a little straighter on the cold, metal seat. “I mean, Cas and Meg seem to have embraced their new humanity without angel or demon powers full throttle, doing every holiday tradition they can get their hands on.”

Dean huffed a laugh. “I had no idea there were traditions for Arbor Day.”

“Exactly!” Sam said, drunkenly smacking Dean in the arm as he emphatically agreed. “They’ve taken on everything they can find, and here we are, hiding from all the mistletoe!”

“That’s because Cas doesn’t seem to care that Meg has no qualms about kissing anyone and everyone she catches! I had no idea they would be so ‘free love’ after they got together!” Dean paused at a faint memory of a human Cas from a different timeline but shook it off. “But I get what you’re sayin’. They’re assimilating. Why are we sitting out in the cold?”

Sam shifted, wrapping his coat around himself a little tighter, and sighed again. “This is all I ever wanted. Jack’s in charge, so no looming apocalypse. Eileen, you and Donna, Cas is happy with Meg, we’re safe, we’re surrounded by family, and they’re sharing all of this with us.”

“So why are we out here hiding from it?” Dean finished Sam’s thought as the creak of the back door opening pulled their attention away from their own musings.

The sounds of the party inside poured out the door as Donna stuck her head out, first, then came outside with Eileen a step behind. Jody was laughing loudly while at least two of the girls were yelling about something. “What are you two doing sitting on that thing in this weather? You’ll catch yer death!”

Dean shifted with a groan. “Sam’s too drunk to feel anything, right now, and I’m pretty sure I lost feeling in my ass twenty minutes ago, so it hasn’t been too bad since then,” he joked with a smile. He waved her over and pulled her down to sit on his lap. Donna settled into his arms and gave him a sweet kiss. On the other side of the seat, Eileen did the same for Sam.

Donna cupped her hands on Dean’s cheeks, warming them as she looked into his eyes. “It’s okay if all of this is a bit much for you two, ya know. We know you’re not used to this kind of thing.”

Eileen, not being able to see what Donna was saying, said almost the same thing to Sam. “We figured you two needed a break from everything. Just wanted to check on you.”

Sam gazed adoringly at Eileen like a puppy looks at his favorite treats. “I really love that you guys did all of this, really. It’s everything I ever wanted. I don’t know why….” Sam’s voice trailed off as words failed him, but his hands squeezed Eileen to show his affection for her.

Donna put a hand on Sam’s hand where it rested on Eileen’s leg, catching both of their attention, then addressed all three of them. “Look, I know that you guys have lived in a way that this is all new and that’s okay! You have already put up with way more than I expected you to! It’s going to take a long time to get used to the idea that life is good and you can have this. And then, it’s gonna take even longer to get used to doing it!” Donna ran a hand through Dean’s hair, smiling as he leaned into her touch. “And all of that is totally okay. You say the word and I’ll send everyone to bed so you can have some quiet time!”

Sam took Donna’s hand and shook his head. “No, no! That’s okay! We’re okay! We’re just, I don’t know, taking a breather?” He looked at Dean, who met his gaze and smiled.

“Yeah, just needed a breather.” A soft smile played on his lips as he turned back to Donna. “Thank you, though.”

As Dean leaned in to kiss Donna, Sam did the same with Eileen. After a couple of sweet kisses, both women shivered and decided to head back inside. The brothers elected to stay outside for just a little while longer and watched with fond smiles as their partners disappeared through the door. Quiet descended once again, with the two men simply watching the snow fall.

“We are the luckiest sons of bitches in the whole goddamn world, Sammy,” Dean said, still staring into the middle distance. “It may take some getting used to, but I’m sure as hell gonna try.” Dean looked over at his little brother and slapped a hand on his knee with a smile.

Sam returned his brother’s smile and nodded. “Me, too,” he said, clapping Dean on the shoulder. “Let’s go back inside before our asses freeze to this thing.”

Dean chuckled and stood up, then helped his brother up. Sam almost knocked him over, but Dean caught him and steadied him with a laugh. Sam laughed at Dean’s laugh and they both headed back into Donna’s house, laughing at each other and how good their lives were, now. Both of them had good women who loved them, good friends around them, and a handful of skin mags wrapped in newspaper with their names on them under the tree. They couldn’t ask for anything more.

[theladyofdeath]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 22}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelby’s blogs! >> @snelbz​​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Cassian was happier than he ever thought he’d be.

Over the past few weeks, he, Nesta, and Nyx had really become their own little family. It seemed that after all the heartache, after all the awkwardness, everything was falling into place. 

Since that night they had slept together, again, Cassian had spent every night with Nesta in her bed, and awoken to her face every morning. 

Cassian had been training his replacement at the bar, and the opening of his bar in Nesta’s restaurant was quickly approaching. 

Perfect.

Everything was going perfectly. 

It was a Saturday and both he and Nesta had off, which meant they got the rarity of spending the entire day together, just the three of them. 

And it was Halloween.

There was a little Halloween carnival going on downtown, just outside of the Rainbow along the Sidra. 

And although Cassian was happier than he ever thought he’d be, he did feel completely and utterly ridiculous as he looked in the mirror and saw his reflection, dressed in the Halloween costume that Nesta had bought for him. 

It could have been worse, he decided, donning the floppy hat it had come with. He didn’t have paint all over his face and he wasn’t dressed as a dog, like Rhys had been the year prior. Just a smidge of eyeliner Nesta had coerced him into letting her put on him. And he may only have one hand, thanks to the “hook” he had to wear, but at least he had a bad ass looking sword.

Even if it was plastic.

Nesta appeared in the doorway, wearing a green dress and matching slippers, complete with white balls of fluff adorning the toes. “You about ready to go, Captain Hook?”

He slowly turned to look at her. “Is it the hair? Hmm? Are you one of those girls where long hair automatically means pirate?”

Nesta raised a brow as she crossed her arms. “Are you complaining?”

Cassian blinked. “These leather pants are so tight that I don’t think my balls are going to survive the day.” 

Nesta’s grin was feral. “I promise to make it up to the boys once we’re back home.”

Cassian’s eyes narrowed. “Tease.” 

“Not a tease,” she crooned. “A promise.”

She gave him a wink before leaving the room and walking down the hall. After a curse about how turned on he now was, Cassian followed. 

At the bottom of the stairs in the living room, Nyx was standing up in his little Peter Pan costume. Cassian laughed, quietly. “You put the poor kid in tights.” 

“He looks adorable!” Nesta hollered, from where she had disappeared in the kitchen. 

Nyx looked at Cassian for a moment, slightly confused, but then recognition lit his eyes and he giggled, reaching up for his uncle. The second Cassian picked him up, Nyx was playing with his floppy hat. 

“Pretty damn cute, alright,” Cassian said, chuckling. “Ready, Nes? Bands start playing soon. A couple of local bands I know will be playing, I think you’ll like them.”

Nesta swept out of the kitchen with a tiny cooler bag full of water, juice, and snacks. “Then let’s get going.” 

After a short ride and a short walk, they entered the carnival and spotted Elain, Azriel, and Seph sitting in the grass, listening to the music. Azriel was dressed as Tigger, Elain was Pooh, and Seph was the cutest Piglet they had ever seen.

Cassian plopped down by Azriel and chuckled. “And I thought my costume was bad.”

Azriel looked over at him. “Shut up, Captain Jack.”

Cassian gasped indignantly. “I’m Captain Hook, you heathen.” He held up his left hand and shook the cheap, plastic hook in his face. “Get your pirates straight.”

The cousins were instantly squealing at each other, Seph having recently started crawling and Nesta couldn’t help but smile down at them as she sat next to Cassian. He slung an arm around her and pulled her into him, kissing the top of her head.

Nesta looked at Elain and caught her small smile, even though she tried to turn away before her older sister caught her. “What?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

Elain shook her head, but that smile was still on her face. “Nothing.”

“Tell me,” Nesta said, leaning forward to see her around Cassian and Azriel.

“It’s just…” Elain blinked and Nesta could’ve sworn she saw tears shimmering in her sister’s eyes. “It’s just nice to see you happy.”

Nesta stilled for a moment. Was she happy? She supposed she was. It had all happened so quickly that Nesta hadn’t hardly realized.

She was happy. 

Judging from his laughter with Azriel, and the way his fingers brushed along her skin, Nesta assumed that Cassian was happy, too.

“It’s a good thing, you know,” Elain whispered, when Nesta said nothing. “A very good thing.”

Nesta remained quiet, but she leaned into Cassian’s side with a little smile of her own.

The music began to play, and Nyx was having the time of his little life. He stood and danced, having no idea what was going on, but loving every second of it.

There were small tents set up around the carnival, passing out candy and other little toys and treats for the kids. Helion was there, at a tent sponsored by Nesta’s restaurant, handing out cookies and brownies she’d spent the past few days baking. Nesta had always loved Halloween, and having Nyx to enjoy it with made her love it all the more. They walked around while the bands continued to play, Nyx’s little bucket filling up with more candy and treats than the little boy could ever eat. Cassian ensured Nesta that it would not go to waste, but she just rolled her eyes.

“You know, I’ve always been a fan of Tinker Bell,” Cassian said, while they were eating candy apples.

Nesta looked at him, brow raised. “Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for Hook.”

Cassian chuckled, looking at Nyx while he nibbled on some goldfish that Nesta had packed in the cooler bag. “And what about Cassian?” Cassian asked. “Are you a fan of him?”

Nesta laughed, softly. “Are you asking me if I like you, Nazari?”

Cassian’s eyes lit with amusement. “I care about you, Nesta. That’s what I’m saying.”

The words she longed to say got stuck in her throat. The truth she’d wanted to tell him since his birthday over a month ago, when they’d finally succumbed to their desire for each other. But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t, not here, not right now, with strangers around them. Elain and Azriel weren’t far, but…

Something about those words. She wanted it just to be the two of them.

So Nesta chose to smirk instead, reaching over and rubbing caramel off his cheek. “You aren’t half bad, I guess.”

He sighed, dramatically, looking up into the sky. “I knew it, you’re only in it for the sex.”

“Cassian!” She blushed furiously, hoping no one had overheard him.

Grinning, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. Nyx threw a goldfish at them, hitting Cassian in the side of the face.

Nesta couldn’t stop her laughter as she pulled back.

Even after a month, Nyx didn’t like Cassian kissing her. The fit he threw the first time he’d seen them kiss on the couch while he was playing with his toys on the floor and they watched a movie would go down in history as the worst meltdown the two of them had seen.

Nesta thought his continued, but lessening, tantrums were hilarious. Cassian could only roll his eyes.

“Was that necessary?” Cassian asked.

“Da,” Nyx said, popping a goldfish into his mouth. It was the closest thing he’d come to yes thus far.

“He used to like me, you know,” Cassian said, looking at Nesta, “before the two of us were together.”

Nesta shrugged. “He’s protective, what can I say?”

“You can say, to him, that you like it when I kiss you,” Cassian replied.

Nesta laughed as Nyx threw another goldfish at Cassian. “He’s smart, Cass. He may be a baby, but he knows you’re talking smack over here.”

“I would never talk smack about a baby,” Cassian said, taking a bite of his caramel apple. “Even if it’s true.”

It wasn’t too much later that Nyx was falling asleep, his little, green cap long forgotten and tucked into the pocket of Cassian’s obnoxious coat. He gently rubbed Nyx’s back as he slept on the blanket they’d laid out on the lush grass. Footsteps and a groan alerted him to Azriel’s presence as he sat down next to Cassian. Seph, in a carrier strapped to his chest, had been asleep for nearly an hour already. Cassian couldn’t help but smile at his brother and niece.

“So you two are actually making this work, huh,” Azriel said, smiling down at Nyx.

Cassian’s laughter sounded as if even he had a hard time believing it. “I guess so. It’s just…so easy with her.”

“I get it. I completely get it,” Azriel said, looking at something over Cassian’s shoulder, and from the way his eyes softened, he knew his brother’s gaze had found Elain.

“I think she feels the same way,” Cassian said. “She’s hard to read, though. Easier than she used to be - thank the Mother - but sometimes… I just want to grab her by the shoulders and ask her what the hell is on her mind.” 

Azriel snorted. “Nesta is…”

When he didn’t complete his sentence, Cassian raised an amused brow.

“An interesting woman,” Azriel finished, at last.

Cassian laughed, quietly. “Yeah, she is. But, that’s what I like about her. She’s not a surface-level person, you know? She’s like an onion.”

Azriel blinked. “An onion?”

Cassian nodded. “A lot of layers.” 

Azriel laughed, quietly. “I would keep that one to yourself. Not sure how Nesta would feel about being called a vegetable that makes you cry.” 

Cassian chuckled, and shrugged. “I think it sounds nice.”

Azriel grinned and looked down at Seph. “Do you see it working out long term, then?”

“You make it sound like a legal document,” Cassian replied, snorting.

Azriel shook his head. “Fine. I’ll ask it simpler, then. Do you love her?”

He hesitated. “It’s only been a month.”

“And?” Azriel asked. “You’ve lived together for half a year. You've known her for over five years.”

Cassian was quiet. He contemplated Azriel’s question, watching the gentle rise and fall of Nyx’s breathing. “I don’t know.”

“You still think Rhys and Feyre didn’t know what they were doing when they set you up all those years ago?”

Looking up at Azriel, Cassian wasn’t expecting to find him smiling softly. “I still think they were bat shit insane,” he chuckled. “But… No. I get it now. They… They just wanted to give us the chance to be as happy as they were.”

“And are you?” Azriel asked, curiosity on his face.

Cassian looked around, finding Nesta laughing with Elain and Mor and Emerie and Gwyn. The smile as he watched her wasn’t faked. “Yeah. I am.”

Azriel’s smile was as genuine as his own. “Then I think you know.”

*

It had been a good day, and an even better night. 

Nyx fell asleep in his carseat on the way home, and Nesta had gotten him out of his costume and into a fresh diaper and pajamas without him hardly stirring. After that, when Nesta meandered into her bedroom, she found a half-dressed pirate with a mischievous glint in his eye. He had made a show of taking Nesta’s costume off with his hook, which had her unable to stop the wide smile, the giggling, that escaped her control. 

It was all sweet, adorable play until his lips found her skin, and then Nesta’s giddiness faded away as complete euphoria took control of her body. 

They laid together as Halloween faded away and November 1st approached. Nesta’s fingers danced over his bare chest. 

“Today was a fun day,” she said, quietly, as she watched her fingers move along his tattoos. 

“It was,” he murmured, already half asleep, his arm wrapped around her, tucking her into his side. He had spent most of his day chasing down Nyx, while Nesta had watched, a smile on her face, as Elain took picture after picture. She’d promised to email the best ones to Nesta as soon as she’d edited them.

She could tell Cassian was exhausted as she looked up into his handsome face, the eyeliner still smudged under his eyes. Sensing her gaze on him, he cracked an eye open and looked at her. “What?”

She shook her head, laying it back down on his chest. “You still have make-up on,” she chuckled.

“What?” He asked. “You don’t think I look pretty?”

Snorting, she nestled into his warm body, settling as his calloused fingers scraped over bare waist. She felt his lips press against the top of her head and in that moment, she realized that this was how it was supposed to be. Nothing had ever felt as…right as this did. As being with him did.

“Cass?”

He grunted in answer, and Nesta realized he was just about asleep.

She decided not to reveal the bit of truth she’d been about to, not when he very well might not remember it the next day.

Instead, she settled her head back on his chest, and said, “I had fun today.”

He mumbled something that sounded like me too, but within seconds, his breath had evened out, and he was asleep.

She wouldn’t reveal that bit of herself, not tonight. But tomorrow…

Tomorrow, she would tell him.

And she prayed he felt the same way.

*

It was hardly after eight when Nesta woke up and found Cassian beside her, in bed, with a sleeping Nyx on his chest. He was scrolling through his phone, his back propped up against the headboard, his sweatpants nearly blending into the navy blue comforter. 

Nesta blinked a few times before she yawned and said, “Good morning.”

Cassian’s eyes darted away from his phone, to her. He smiled. “Good morning. Little man woke up about an hour ago. Fell asleep again five minutes ago or so. Apparently he got worn out yesterday.”

Nesta chuckled. “I’d say so.”

“I was going to put him in his crib but he seems comfortable,” Cassian said. “I can, though, if you want me to make breakfast.”

Nesta shook her head as she propped herself up on her elbows. “That’s okay. I can make breakfast. I was in a french toast type of mood.” 

“Sounds good,” Cassian crooned, and Nesta reached up to kiss him, softly, before dragging herself out of bed. After slipping on some cozy shorts and one of Cassian’s oversized t-shirts, she was headed downstairs. 

Sunday mornings were her favorite, nowhere for either of them to be. Just time together and time with Nyx. She was humming quietly to herself after she’d made a pot of coffee, pulling what she needed to make French toast and bacon out of the fridge when there was a sudden knock on the front door.

Nesta froze, listening to ensure she had in fact heard—

Another knock, just as insistent as the first.

“Was that the door?” Cassian was carrying Nyx downstairs, the baby’s pacifier barely staying in his mouth as he sleepily leaned his head on his uncle’s bare shoulder.

“Yeah,” she replied, eyebrows furrowing as she reached the door and opened it.

Nesta froze as she found Alis Birch on the other side.

“Ms. Archeron, good morning,” she said, eyeing her choice of attire.

“Ms. Birch, good morning. What a surprise,” she said, trying not to panic.

“I hope it’s a good time,” she said, looking past Nesta to see what chaos she could find. “This is the last of my surprise visits.”

“I see,” Nesta said, then cleared her throat as she stepped aside. “Come in, please.”

Alis did not need to be told twice. She swept past Nesta and into the foyer, where Cassian caught sight of her. He stopped as their eyes met, and he hesitated.

“Ms. Birch,” he said, as if it were a pleasant surprise. “Nice to see you again.”

“You too,” she said, looking at Nyx. “Big Halloween, was it?”

“Fun Halloween,” Cassian corrected. “We were at the carnival downtown for most of the day. He had a blast.”

Alis nodded, but said no more.

“Have a seat,” Nesta said, gesturing to the living room furniture. “Please.”

Alis sat in a chair while Cassian carefully and slowly sat back on the couch, Nesta sitting beside him.

Before anyone could say anything else, Alis said, “The two of you have become intimate.” 

Nesta swallowed roughly while Cassian could only blink. After a moment, she collected herself. “I—We…”

“It’s fairly recent,” Cassian admitted, taking over when it was clear Nesta was floundering.

She wanted to demand how she could tell, but she was very clearly wearing his shirt while he wore nothing at all, aside from his sweats. They were cooking breakfast while the baby dozed. It was all so…domestic.

Alis would have been blind not to notice it.

She hummed once before opening her notebook and scribbling a few notes down. “The two of you have come a long way in a few months then, since you were barely even friends the last time I was here.” She threw Nesta’s own half-drunk words into their faces.

“Things have changed,” she breathed, yearning to reach over and take Cassian’s hand, but not wanting to look weak in front of the woman.

The woman who controlled whether or not they’d be keeping Nyx.

“So, this is not a fling, then?” Alis asked.

Cassian opened his mouth, but it was Nesta who politely said, “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure how our romantic life is an appropriate topic-.”

“Oh, it is most appropriate,” Alis assured them both. “If this is nothing but a fling, it could create a lot of drama in the home, which could in turn affect Nyx’s well being. However, if this is love, something that will become steadier day by day, then I could not be more overjoyed.”

You don’t sound overjoyed, Nesta wanted to say, but didn’t. 

“We are aware that everything we do affects Nyx,” Cassian said, not unkindly. “We thought it through before we decided to get together.”

Nesta almost wanted to laugh. Thought it through? They hooked up twice, and the second time it stuck. She wasn’t sure that was exactly thinking it through. In fact, there hadn’t been much thinking at all.

It just kind of...happened. 

Nyx had indeed lost his pacifier at some point and patted Cassian on the cheek.

“Babababa,” he chanted, which the two of them had learned meant he wanted his bottle and Cassian stood.

“Excuse me, I’ll be back,” he said, carrying Nyx into the kitchen.

Alis held Nesta’s stare, eventually asking, “Does Nyx have a support system, outside of the home?”

She blinked. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

Alis set down her pen and looked at Nesta as if she were the child in this situation. “Let’s say things don’t last. Let’s say whatever is between you and Mr. Nazari isn’t a love match and it falls apart. Aside from the two of you, does Nyx have other people who could step in to take care of him?”

“I don’t see why he would need it,” she replied, her voice cold. “Even if things don’t work out, Cassian and I will still take care of him. Nyx is our responsibility now. We love him.”

“And will you do that from one home?”

“We… I…” Nesta shook her head. “Ma’am, with all due respect, we haven’t even had time to figure out what exactly this is between us.”

Alis scooped up her bag and tucked her notebook against her chest as she stood. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. And I’d like the two of you to have that figured out before my next visit. I’ll reach out a few days before, so you can expect me. But I’d like this…” She gestured around her, “situation to be more straightforward before I return.”

She turned and headed for the door.

When Cassian came back, Alis was gone. He blinked, Nyx now awake, downing his milk. “Where’d she go?”

“She left,” Nesta said, quietly. “She’ll let us know when she’s coming next time.”

Cassian’s brows furrowed as he sat next to Nesta on the couch. “What’s wrong?”

Nesta hesitated, then said, “I think she thinks that us getting together is a mistake.”

Cassian looked at Nesta for a moment, then snorted. “She also thought that us living together, unromantically, and raising Nyx was a mistake.” 

Nesta said nothing as she watched her hands, quietly.

Cassian’s smile faded away. “What? You don’t think us getting together is a mistake, right?”

“No, of course not,” Nesta said, but it lacked passion.

Cassian watched her. “Nesta.”

“She brings up some good points, Cass,” Nesta breathed.

Cassian’s jaw ticked. “What does that mean?”

Nesta closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Well, what if we don’t work out? What will happen? We should at least have a plan.”

“You don’t think we’re going to work out?” Cassian asked. 

“I don’t even know what we are, Cassian,” she breathed, opening her eyes, but continued staring at her hands. “Am I your girlfriend? Are we exclusive? Is this just what’s convenient for us both?”

Cassian was staring at her, unable to think of anything to say, barely able to understand what had happened in the past thirty minutes since he’d gotten out of bed. “This sure as hell isn’t just about convenience, not for me. But if it is for you, I guess I’d like to know now.”

She still didn’t look at him. “I don’t know, Cass.”

He had no idea what to say, no idea what to do. He shook his head. “I’m going to take Nyx on my jog with me. When we get back, you let me know if this is still convenient for you.”

His voice was colder than she’d heard it in months, barely recognized it as he silently made his way up the stairs. She didn’t move, could hardly think as she heard him get changed and then dress Nyx as well. 

Her face fell into her hands.

This isn’t how she wanted the morning to go.

As she laid in bed with him the night before, listening to the steady beating of his heart after he fell asleep, she had a long list of things she wanted to say to him today, had a long list of emotions she wanted him to feel.

Pissed wasn’t one of them.

Unsure wasn’t one of them.

Nothing was going as planned.

It wasn’t until Cassian was carrying a babbling Nyx back down the stairs that Nesta looked up. Cassian wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Cass-,” she began, but he strode through the living room and out the door, the door closing just a little too hard behind him.

No, this wasn’t how she wanted the day to go.

She didn’t get to tell Nyx goodbye.

She didn’t get to tell Cassian goodbye, or any of the other things she had planned.

But maybe it was for the best. Maybe things would continue to fall into place, just not the place that she had planned.

Nesta sat back on the couch, her face falling back into her hands.

As the first tear fell, she wondered if this was a part of Feyre’s plan. 

[lepusrufus]

Double edged scalpel ch.5

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4

Summary: someone please give Nicole a break for the love of Miranda. And there be smut y'all

---

Seeing Cassandra's softer side made something flutter within Nicole's chest. The brunette was a sadist through and through. Witness to that fact was the array of torture devices that littered the dungeons. Not to mention the prisoners she frequently killed, only to haul them on the autopsy tables in her study to be examined, chopped and sectioned by the both of them.

But there was an uncharacteristic sort of gentleness in the way their lips slid against each other, sharp teeth occasionally biting down on Nicole's lower lip but never enough to draw blood. In the way Cassandra would drag sharp nails against flushed skin, but not go beyond the pleasurable amount of pain. Even the glint in golden eyes when Nicole went over some old notes of hers on more tricky anatomy concepts. Having an exclusive look at this side of Cassandra felt beyond intimate and the thought almost made her miss when the brunette spoke from where she was leaning over a notebook.

"Okay let's just wrap this up, I have plans."

Nicole hummed, dropping the liver she was holding in a freezer bag. Most body parts were already bagged and ready to be picked up by Cynthia and her undercooks, they were just putting into practice some things the brunette was curious about. She dropped the now blood soaked leather gloves in the sink and went to sit by Cassandra, who was scribbling some final notes.

"In that case I'll go enjoy a cup of tea," she sighed. "Tea that I had to skip because someone was eager to start on this early."

Cassandra raised an eyebrow at her, accompanied by her usual smirk. "I meant plans with you."

Oh? That was new. The brunette laughed at Nicole's wide eyed expression and snapped her notebook shut. She took her sweet time putting it on the shelf with the others and checking the time, pretending not to notice the redhead's inquisitive expression. Then, she lifted Nicole’s chin with a thankfully not covered in blood finger.

"Don't get me wrong I love it here but," she grimaced, "it gets stuffy sometimes. Especially in summer."

Well, that much was true. The undergrounds of the castle were oddly warm, although not downright hot, compared to what one would expect from a castle. Pair that with the annoyingly humid atmosphere and having to wear a leather apron and gloves so as to not completely ruin your outfit and you got the perfect recipe for discomfort. She really ought to ask Cassandra about installing some kind of better ventilation down here.

"Meet me in the attic in about… an hour." She leaned down and their mouths were so close that Nicole could feel icy breath on her lips.

The attic? She's never been to the attic, it was not only off limits for most staff but also dangerous if rumors were to be believed. Not that she had the clarity of mind to voice any concerns when Cassandra finally leaned in to kiss her, complete with a nip on her lower lip that made Nicole’s breath hitch.

---

The fact that Nicole had no idea how to get to the attic could be a slight problem. She had asked Anita, but not only did she not know, she also seemed mortified by the idea. Another maid just gave her vague directions to look for a ladder on the top floor. As if that wasn't like trying to find the needle in a haystack. Or the needle in a giant castle.

She was just wandering around the top floor, praying not to stumble upon anyone who would be less than thrilled to see her there. A sigh of relief escaped past her lips when she heard familiar buzzing and steps coming towards her.

"Oh Cas-" she swallowed her words when she noticed red hair spilling from underneath a black hood.

"Nicole! What are you doing here hmm?" Her inquisitive hum was way too exaggerated the same way her fangs seemed too sharp when she grinned.

"I was just looking for Ca- lady Cassandra. She asked me to meet her in the attic."

Daniela's mouth fell open, almost forming an O shape. Then back to her characteristic giggle, almost as if laughing at a joke only she knew.

"What, you don't know how to get there?"

"...Not really," she sheepishly admitted.

And that was a mistake. Nicole would've preferred to wander the hallways until Cassandra eventually got bored enough of waiting and decided to come see where her glorified lab partner was. But her plan was ruined by Daniela wordlessly grabbing her arm and pulling her in the opposite direction she was going in. She even went the extra mile to partially turn into a swarm, which made Nicole's panic skyrocket. She didn't mind bugs. But having hundreds of them fly all around you, accompanied by manic giggling was a whole other thing.

Before she knew it though, Daniela let go of her arm, laughing a little at Nicole's stumbling. She gestured dramatically towards a ladder and said:

"There you go. Say hi to Cassie for me."

"Th- thank you my lady." And with a small bow of the head she grabbed the ladder and started ascending on shaky legs.

"And enjoy your date," she called out, once Nicole was at the top of the stairs.

Blushing, she decided to ignore the comment and start looking for the sister less likely to turn her into fly food.

The attic looked… old. It was obvious that people didn't come here often, although someone probably did clean it regularly as there were no cobwebs nor dirt on any surfaces, aside from some dust. It was full of neatly arranged boxes and crates, their contents as mysterious as the castle's inhabitants. Tentative steps took her across ancient floorboards, navigating old rooms.

"Rah!"

Nicole damn near jumped out of her skin, a string of curses spilling past her lips. "Jesus fucking christ Cassandra!"

The brunette only laughed, hands on her knees and pretending to wipe a tear from her eye.

"That's what you get for making me wait for so long."

"I didn't even know where the attic entrance was! Good thing one of your sisters came to my rescue." Nicole rolled her eyes at the last word.

Cassandra stopped laughing, eyes narrowing slightly. "Which one?"

"Uh- Danie-"

"Did she hurt you?" Cassandra grabbed her arms, golden eyes looking for any visible injuries.

Nicole just laughed softly, taken off guard by the display of concern. "No, no. Just gave me a bit of a fright, that's all."

With an eye roll, Cassandra guided her further into the attic, through more dusty rooms, until they reached a short corridor, light spilling from its other end. The room they entered was relatively small, almost half of it occupied by stacked boxes as if it used to be a storage room like the rest of the attic and nobody bothered to completely clear it out. A few pieces of furniture were also present: a couch with a coffee table in front of it and paintings leaning against a wall to collect dust. This room however had a window, left slightly ajar, that allowed you to see the mountains stretching on the horizon, crowned by the beautiful orange hues of dusk.

Nicole moved to the glass to take in the view, mouth almost hanging open, when an ungodly screech from outside made her backpedal straight into Cassandra.

"What the fuck was that?" She asked, eyes widening at the sight of flying creatures circling the towers.

"Mother's flying guard dogs."

"They sound the same way I'd imagine the souls of the damned do." Nicole didn’t take her eyes off the ghoulish creatures, almost as if keeping eye contact would dissuade them from attacking.

Cassandra just shrugged. "Wouldn't be too far off. Also here." She sat on the couch, gesturing towards a cup.

Nicole went to sit by her side, grabbing the mystery cup. She frowned slightly when the steam reached her nose, bringing with it a pleasant minty and honey aroma.

"Tea?"

"Since you were so disheartened about having to skip it earlier," Cassandra averted her eyes, seemingly finding the curtains very interesting.

After a long sip, she let out a content sigh. The warmth was more than welcomed, despite the weather. She set the cup back on the table and turned her attention on the brunette, now fidgeting with the corner of a pillow.

"Thank you," Nicole said, leaving a small kiss on her cheek.

Cassandra smiled and turned around, locking their lips in a kiss that at first mimicked her gentleness, but soon turned hungry when dainty hands made their way to the brunette's nape, pulling her closer. She shifted them both, pushing Nicole down on the pillows littering the couch, until she was laying on top of her, legs on each side of her waist. Her focus was on leaving a trail of nips and kisses down Nicole's neck when the redhead jumped and barely stifled a yelp at another screech from outside.

"Ugh what the fuck is today, scare me out of my mind day?"

"How are you scared of these but countless dead bodies don't phase you?" Cassandra laughed, sound muffled by her position with her mouth against Nicole's neck.

"I used to work on corpses, not on ugly gargoyles that could chew my face off!" She gestured wildly at the window and the few creatures visible outside.

"You what?"

"You...didn't know?" Nicole couldn't help a giggle at Cassandra's confused expression.

"How was I supposed to know?"

"I thought your mother told you already. Or your sisters," Nicole shrugged.

"They knew?!" And, after something seemed to dawn on her, "Oh I'm gonna kick both their asses."

Nicole couldn’t help letting out a small laugh, placing her hands on Cassandra's cheeks and, with a pout for dramatic effect, "Right now?"

As much as the sight was both funny and endearing, the warmth starting to pool at her core was making her beyond impatient.

The indignation in golden eyes was replaced by an all too familiar glint and black painted lips went back to their work on Nicole's neck. Sharp fangs pierced the skin there, just enough to draw a few drops of blood and a whine. After licking every last bit of it, Cassandra's lips moved to the collarbones and lower, hands slowly starting to undo the buttons of Nicole's pesky uniform that was in the way.

When both the button up and the skirt were discarded on the floor Nicole tangled her fingers through black hair and pulled Cassandra in for a kiss. Her free hand went to the back of the dress, pulling down the zipper and guiding it off of the brunette's shoulders. Once both of them were left only in undergarments, Nicole pulled back to look up at the brunette.

"If I knew I was supposed to dress up I would've asked the chambermaid if there's anything fancy in the uniform stash," she said, taking in the beautifully intricate lace of Cassandra's matching bra and underwear, complete with a giggle at her awful joking.

The brunette only raised an eyebrow. "Mhm I can take care of that. Not like you'll need these for long though." Her hands reached under Nicole's back to unclasp her bra and in mere moments that too was on top of the pile of clothes on the floor.

Then Cassandra bent down to crash their lips together, tongue slipping past Nicole's lips when a wandering hand elicited a gasp from her.

Cassandra was by no means a patient person. Quite the opposite actually. But teasingly dragging her nails across sensitive skin only to feel the girl under her squirm and whine when her hand just won't go where she needed it made waiting all the more sweet. Slender fingers started to toy with the edges of Nicole's underwear. After a groan against her lips and an impatient tug of hair, Cassandra finally gave in, slipping two fingers inside her. She felt Nicole arch into her, a broken moan escaping past her lips when she broke the kiss to let her head fall back into the cushions. Cassandra took that as an opportunity to kiss the length of her neck, occasionally stopping to suck or bite at a spot, enjoying every gasp and moan she drew out of the redhead.

With Cassandra's rough pace it didn't take long before Nicole was clenching her thighs around her hand. Cassandra kissed her, swallowing her moan as she came.

The small room in the attic, Cassandra's drawing room she would later find out, was the perfect secluded spot. They spent the rest of the evening enjoying each other. First evening of many.

[anxiousstark]

The Aura Painter | DOB

Painter! Dylan x Princess!Reader

Word Count: 12K (12.057)

Warnings: Mentions of sexism, masturbation (mutual or solo), unprotected sex (this is a fic, be safe), cum play, breeding kink, filthy tbh, some cliché romance scenes. This is my second time writing ‘smut’. But this is the first time writing something so long and so filthy, bear with me.

A/N: This is an idea that I’ve had in mind for so long. Hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed imagining it. And of course, writing it. If you do, please give it some love and share it. The biggest solo piece I’ve ever written!

All Rights Reserved. The author, me, don’t allow any type of copy or adaption.

BIG MASTERLIST  |  KO-FI

Words you must know for the fic:

Onism (n.) the awarness of how little of the world you will experience.

Heriaeth (n.) a homesickness for a home to which you canot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning. the grief of lost places of your past.

Elysian (adj.) beautiful or creative; divinely inspired; peaceful and perfect.

.

The droplets of rain fell against the glass, leaving a trail which I followed with my gaze. The glistening tear of water disappeared before I could place my finger against the window and imitate that I could command its movement.

The sky seemed to cry, turning a darker shade. Perhaps the sky had lost a lover or perhaps, the one they loved was far from its reach. I could not tell as I never experienced one of those stories.

The books I had to read as a child were those who would teach me how to act and think. But those I read on the confines of my room when everyone was sleeping were different. Those told the story of a beautiful lady who wished to be rescued by a gentleman. I would try not to squeal under my blanket, as that was something, a lady of a high position should not do.

I glanced at the sky again as it screamed, lightly swaying the trees outside while his droplets of tears wetted everything under itself.

"M'lady," I corrected my form, trying to look as straight as possible. Turning around, I glimpsed directly into a pair of green eyes that seemed to lose their brightness as the seasons passed. Those eyes used to be the brightest ones in this palace, but now they were almost colourless, decorated by a couple of wrinkles. "Your mother is asking for your presence at her table."

That was unusual. My mother was a sophisticated distant woman who liked to spend time on her own. Hence, she tried to escape from her responsibilities as a Queen while having breakfast by herself. She would relax outside in the gardens. A small white table filled with her preferred meals, and even if she sought to convince herself, and lie to me about her drink being just a mere juice, everyone knew it wasn't.

"Tell me, Harold," While walking through the corridors of the palace, I noticed once again the monotony. The clicking of my heels appeared to be the only sound, except the melody of the rain falling against hard surfaces. "Did the Queen seem mad?"

Harold tried not to chuckle, knowing that if my parents or any of my siblings were near, he would end up getting struck by executing such a natural gesture. "I must say that the Queen did not ask for the cello man to accompany her this morning with some music."

I gasped, glancing at him to discern if he was teasing me. Harold had been in our family for so many years. I dare to say that he was in this palace before anyone else.

"She must be quite mad, then." I bit my lower lip, trying to think what of the things I have done could have gotten her mad, and how she had discovered them. "Perhaps she found the romance novels hidden in my room?" I muttered to myself.

"M'lady," Harold opened the door to the great hall. "She preferred to eat her breakfast in here as it is raining cats and dogs outside." He whispered, letting me walk in first. I silently nodded my head, wandering closer to my mother, who was sitting on the farthest place even though she was on her own. "My Queen. The young Lady has arrived. If my services are required, I will be waiting outside to escort the young Lady back to her room."

I shivered as soon as Harold left the room, wishing he could have stayed with me. But of course, he did not deserve the wrath of my mother. While walking closer to her, my clicking heels seemed to resemble the countdown of a bomb that would explode shortly.

"Take a seat, my darling," She demanded as soon as I was close to her. I swallowed, swiftly grabbing the skirts of my dress. I sat down on the white chair in front of her. She coughed. "Someone quite similar to the young Lady of the palace has been seen on the street market." A newspaper was placed on top of the table, facing me.

I swallowed one more time. "Must be someone who resembles me." I attempted to sound confident. "I am afraid that happened on Friday, and I take piano, courtesy and manner classes that day."

"Tell me, darling," She faked a smile. Her dark brown eyes, studying my position and expressions. "May I ask how you knew this happened on Friday as the article does not say something like that?"

"I-." Her stare became even more intimidating. "Guessed?" I squinted my eyes, perceiving that she would raise her voice to inhuman levels.

"Nor did you only skip your classes, you also lied and went outside on your own." Her tone was sharp. "Hideous things could have happened to you. Do you know what this could mean to your brother's throne?" Of course, this was about my dear brother. "The sister of the future King of Onism does not follow the rules of the palace. Then, what should they expect from their new King?"

"I did not do anything inappropriate, mother." I sighed, shifting my gaze to look at her directly. "I did not get in trouble, and as you can perceive, I am all right."

She rolled her eyes, which surprised me as she always claimed for that gesture not being refined. "And books," She pointed to one of the chairs, where I noticed all my favourite romance novels resting upon it. She had found them.

"May at least have some privacy in the confines of my bedroom?" I was mad, but raising my voice to her would get me in even more trouble. "Those," I referred to the pile of books that were my most precious property. "Those are mine."

"Not anymore," She got up, grabbing one of them and examining the title. "Romance novels? When will you understand that nothing like this happens in real life?"

I felt a little strength going through my body. "That book, in particular, describes the love story of the author! It is a romance that happened to her in real life. It is not fiction."

"But that woman was not a princess, was she?" I shook my head as she waited for my answer. "However, you are one. Even if you do not have anything to do with the future throne of Onism, your brother does, and you must behave like a princess." She walked closer to the fireplace. My eyes widened, and I gasped loudly. "You are a woman and a princess. The only thing you must worry about is making your future husband happy while following his rules, even if you do not love him." She opened the book, her skinny finger ripping some of the pages, and in the process, shattering my heart. "You will get married to someone you do not love, just to unite two countries." She let the book slip from her fingers. Falling to the fire, and burning as much as my eyes were burning due to the tears. "Stop filling your head with stories that will never happen to you. You are dismissed."

I got up from the chair, slightly glancing at the pile of books. I knew they would end up in the fireplace, slowly burning. I bowed my head. "I apologize, mother." She made a gesture with her hand, instructing me to leave the great hall.

My head was down as I walked to the door, wishing to exit the room and rant to Harold. "Wait," The voice of my mother interrupted my walk. "Get prepared as in two hours a man will come to paint a portrait of you. We will send the portraits to different future Kings of other countries that have shown interest in courting you."

"Yes, mother." I could not argue.

As I came out of the room, I noticed Harold's gaze fixed on me. I shook my head, letting him accompany me to my chambers. While walking through the long corridors, I glanced outside the windows. I reminded myself that I would never dance under the rain with someone while we laugh and kiss. I will never be caressed with love. I will only be touched with the purpose of bringing an heir to someone. An heir that would have to live the same dull life as me.

Going inside my bedroom, Harold bowed his head while he walked away. However, three ladies that worked in the palace entered my room, ready to assist me. I could not even take a bath on my own, nor could I dress by myself as the three of them did it for me.

"The painter will be here soon, ma'am," Rosetta informed, deciding to stay in the room as a lady should not be alone in a room with a man who is not her beloved husband. "He is a painter from town, said to have a gift."

"Is he quite known?" I asked to continue the conversation as I did not want to be rude. Nonetheless, the image of my books burning was the only thing in my mind.

"He is known in town for doing amazing portraits in exchange for food and a place to live." My curiosity peaked at the comment. "Royals are quite interested in getting their portraits done by him. Though, he had denied their offers." I looked at her with confusion. "He does not want to be related to any royalty member." I nodded my head, understanding why he did not want that.

There were two knocks on the door, indicating that the painter was here. I was quite surprised as my mother wanted the portrait to be painted in my private chambers. "Please, come inside."

When the door opened, a tall man came inside. He was probably around 5' 10". Wide shoulders that were covered by dark brown clothes. It seemed to be his best attire. Even though you could see the cheap fabric, and how he had tried to cover some holes and get rid of some stains. He had tried to gel his hair back. At first, I thought his hair was black until a streak of light fell on him, and I discerned it was a little lighter than that.

His light brown eyes fell on me, and studying them in-depth, I noticed that they resembled to be hazel. He bowed his head. "Uhm, it is a pleasure to meet you, Princess. I am here to-."

I offered him a smile. "Welcome to the palace," I bowed my head a little, which seemed to surprise him. "Please, do not call me Princess. It is fine to call me Lady." I gestured to one of the chairs in my room. "Please take a seat. It must have been a bumpy ride to the palace."

While sitting down, he nodded his head. There was a big black binder between his hands. Noticing my gaze on it, he quickly opened it, showing different canvas. "I can make different types of portraits. I thought I should bring some examples for the Pri-, Lady to choose the one she fancies the most." He stretched his arm, providing his drawings for me to look at them.

"May I ask for your name, sir?" My eyes focused on his drawings, understanding why everyone wanted to get their portrait done by the young man.

"My family name is O'Brien, while my name is Dylan, my Lady."

I nodded my head while still focused on his magnificent paintings. However, one in particular seemed to grab my full attention. It was the portrait of an elder, who appeared to be looking deep into me. He was skinny, and by his clothes, I could tell he was poor. He was sitting on a chair, and I almost gasped when I discerned that he had a missing leg. His expression was warm, a gorgeous smile decorating his face. Though, you could see that he had missing teeth.

"Did you find any equivalent style to what you desire?" His soft voice snapped me from my thoughts.

"May I ask?" I turned the portrait around, giving it back. His eyes examined the elder he had drawn. "Why is he smiling, but there are shadows around him?" I had noticed that the elder was smiling. However, black and grey adumbrations were around his figure. Some resembled horrible monsters. Especially a grey shadow that resembled a demon, resting upon his head.

He chuckled. "Those are the ones people in town ask the most." He glanced at me. "I draw their exterior as they want other people to see them. But then, around them, I draw what I can perceive or what I learnt about them." I furrowed my eyebrows. "Sadly, this man passed away a couple of weeks ago due to a cold." He licked his bottom lip. "He had offered me a home for a couple of days, and of course, he had proposed food in exchange for a portrait. Those days, I learnt many things while listening to his stories. I noticed that the man was attempting to look happy for his sick wife, whom he loved with his entire soul."

I fidgeted on my seat. "What happened, then?" I curiously asked, making him grin.

"He was not happy. He was afraid of losing the love of his life because death had knocked a couple of times on their door." He glanced at the painting. "Their children had married to people in higher positions, ignoring the elderly couple and not helping them with medicines. He was 87 years old, working in the town market. He was selling vegetables that he was cultivating by himself." He decided to continue as he saw that I was expectant of knowing more. "He never lost the smile for anyone, even if people did not treat him right. And of course, when arriving at his house, he would maintain the smile for his wife."

"Then," I tried to hide my teary eyes. "Those dark shadows..."

"Those are the monsters he tried to hide, but that I got to meet. The fear of losing his wife, the frightening feeling of wanting to end his own life, the fear of not having money to pay for his wife medicines, and so much more."

"And what happened to them?" Rosetta coughed, indicating me to fix my posture, and I quickly did, which made him furrow his eyebrows.

"As I said, one of his biggest fears was that they did not have enough money to pay for his wife's medicines." He peeped at the ground for mere seconds. "She died in her sleep. Her body could not hold the pain anymore, and she faded away."

"What about the old man?"

He nodded his head, his gaze shifting to the portrait. "He passed away in his sleep too. There was a smile in his face."

I blinked, affected by the grievous story of those who had to fight to survive. "I want one of those!" Both Rosetta and Dylan looked at me with surprised expressions decorating their faces. "I would like one of those portraits."

"My Lady, I'm sorry to intervene on matters that I should not. But I do not think the Queen will like such a portrait to be sent to those who are interested in courting you." She was right.

"She will not look at the portrait. Harold will be the one sending them." I affirmed, knowing that my mother would not dirty her hands for anything.

"It could get the young man in trouble, my Lady."

I glance at the man, who was looking at Rosetta until his eyes met mine. "Yes," I smiled, even though I was upset. "You are right. Then," I studied a portrait, a simple one. "I would like this one." Dylan nodded his head.

"It would take a couple of days to finish it. But I will be staying in the palace for the time being." He informed. "Is there any time of the day where you prefer to spend your time just standing in front of me?" He blushed a little. "Just for the portrait, of course."

"Tuesdays and Fridays I must spend receiving 'Lady classes'. The rest of the days and hours, I will be in here." I sighed, offering him another smile. "Did they give you directions for the room where you will stay?" Nodding his head, he showed me a piece of paper with some important directions to places of the palace that he could visit. "Your bedroom is at the end of this corridor. You are lucky as it is empty, except for me and Harold's room." Of course, he had met Harold already. "I must warn you not to leave your room after 11 pm as there are guards everywhere." I got up from my chair. "Rosetta," I pointed at her. "She will bring every meal to your room. Do not hesitate if you need to ask them something. There are a bathroom and a study in your chambers."

Before he could answer, the door of my chambers opened. A broad man stumbled in with decisive steps, and fury adorning his face. I gulped, stepping back before I could hold myself.

The man threw a newspaper at me, hitting my chest. Glancing at the floor, I witnessed the same newspaper my mother had been holding a couple of minutes ago. "Again?" His voice was sharp. "Did you escape again to buy those stupid books?" I shook my head. "Oh, yes, you did. Mother told me." His boots sounded like thunders as he walked closer. "I do not desire to hear any rumour of how my sister is not acting like a lady." My brother Evans glared at me. "If my future in the throne is affected by your stupid imagination and ambitions, I swear I will do whatever I must do for you to learn your lesson."

"I am s-."

"Do not you dare speak back to me!" He screamed. His gaze shifted to Dylan, who was standing too, eyes widened and what seemed anger decorating his face. "Are you the painter?" He nodded his head. "Try to make her attractive in the portrait. Hopefully, some rich soon-to-be King from another country will want to marry her." He peered at me. "Luckily, he will know when a woman needs a genuine beating to act like a lady or a wife." Those were his final words as he left the room. I finally could breathe.

"Uhm," My legs shook, and I attempted to hide it. "As I said before if you need anything, do not hesitate to ask."

"Thank you, my Lady." He got up from his chair, clutching his paintings. "Is it all right to start with the portrait tomorrow morning?" I nodded my head, wishing him goodnight as he left my bedroom.

"Rosetta," Her hands were behind her back, respectfully. "Tell Harold that I demanded not to be disturbed tonight. Not even for dinner." She nodded her head, bowing and leaving me on my own.

I sighed, wandering closer to a full-body mirror that decorated one of my walls. The moment I feared the most was getting closer. I would marry someone whom I do not love. I would marry someone whose eyes would not hold back from gawking at other women. And with those thoughts in mind, I went to sleep.

The following day, I decided to have breakfast and lunch in my chambers, not wanting to face my mother or my older brother. I had convinced Harold to stay outside my room, wanting to be on my own with Dylan. I thought that I would feel more comfortable if I didn't have someone constantly checking my posture or warning me of what should not say. Moreover, I also believed that a painter needed his privacy to reflect his art on a canvas.

I was stunned toward the bright day outside. Looking out of the window, I saw my little siblings running around the garden as some servants followed them. They were probably making their job even more complicated. Alexander and Victoria were quite the troublemakers. However, I was thrilled for them as they would not have to follow such strict indications, as to the ones I had to obey.

"Are those your siblings, my Lady?" Scared by the prompt presence, I turned around. Dylan was standing there, holding a big canvas and a briefcase, which I assumed held his painting materials. "I apologize if I alarmed you. Harold permitted me to come inside."

I nodded my head. "Yes, they are twins." I offered him a smile as he grabbed a chair, placing it in front of me. I discerned that my back was resting against the wall, and I quickly moved to stand straight. "Oh, please, no." He extended his arm. "Would it be okay for you to go back to that position? The light was caressing the right side of your face. There was a beautiful contrast." I swallowed, nodding my head while resting my back against the wall. I heard him chuckle. "Please, do not worry. It is okay for you to blink, breathe or swallow. It is also okay for you to do light movements."

"May I talk?"

"I am not great at holding conversations, but I will try my best, my Lady." He placed the blank canvas on the easel. His hands worked fast while taking out his painting material from the briefcase. "If it is not rude," He swallowed, probably questioning himself if it was okay to continue speaking. "I have noticed some books lying under the bed," I glance at my bed. Noticing that some books could be seen, which meant he was good at observing and that I did not hide my books correctly. "What books do you read?"

"Well," I gulped. "I read books about manners a lady should have in front of males and for the table. I study geography too as I must know the rest of countries for future alliances, and-."

"I apologize, my Lady." He wetted his brush. "Perhaps I formed the question wrongly. I wanted to know which books you enjoy."

My mouth opened as no one has ever asked me such a question. "You will think I am a typical young girl."

"Cannot think like that, my Lady." He mixed some colours. His painting brush, caressing the canvas delicately. "You are not a typical young girl. You are the Princess of Onism." Though those words shattered my heart, he was right. I would never be a 'normal' girl as my life was nothing like the one of an ordinary lady. "However," He continued. "When you paint someone, you get to comprehend them deeply. I believe I might discover that you are an ordinary human at heart. Something beautiful that would separate you from cold-hearted royalty." I was surprised by his words as people would not dare to talk of royalty like that.

I offered him a smile. "You might." He got distracted for a couple of seconds. His eyes navigated from the canvas to me, trying to retain my features and the folds of my clothes. "Romance." I was flustered. "I do truly enjoy romance."

"I presume something you will experience as soon as these portraits are sent."

I shook my head. "Something I presume I will never experience." His eyebrows furrowed once again. "Royalty men have the right to choose whom they will marry, even if they do not love them. Women will have to accept whomever their parents choose for her." My gaze shifted to the window for a couple of seconds. "It is my destiny."

He stopped painting for mere seconds, staring at me while slowly blinking. "Destiny can be changed." I shook my head. "It can," He nodded his head. "It might be scary or go against the rules. But destiny can be changed by the decisions you make. Only you are the sailor of the ship." He grinned. "That is something my father used to say."

"Used?"

"He passed away." He gritted his teeth. "He was a great painter too. Better than me." To my curious gaze, he decided to continue. "My mother left when I was a baby. She fell in love with a younger man, leaving my dad and me." He gulped. "Therefore, I would not dare to say that I have seen love as my mother left without looking back."

"H-Have you experience love, sir?"

"Please, call me Dylan, my Lady." There was a comfortable silence between us as he seemed to be concentrating on the portrait. "Not sure I did. Love is not what is shown in books. Nonetheless, I would like it to be like that."

"I cannot agree or disagree." I offered a sad smile, trying to hide my tears. "May we take a rest?"

He glanced at the clock hanging on my wall, nodding his head. "I apologize, time went by so fast." He cleaned and placed his paints inside his briefcase. "Good night, my Lady." I bowed back to him as he closed the door.

I waited for a couple of minutes, opening the door and seeing Rosetta waiting there. "Where is Harold?" I glance around, hoping to see the grey-haired man.

"He had to take care of some issues." She replied, looking nervous. "Do you need anything, my Lady?"

I quickly nodded my head. "I expect no dinner today, and I demand to be left alone." She furrowed her eyebrows, and before she could speak back, I stopped her. "I would like to take my nightly bath on my own, please." She nodded her head, walking away after wishing me a good night.

I closed the door of my chambers, quickly locking it as I rapidly walked into my bathroom, doing the same thing to the door. Walking closer to the bath, I turned on the faucet. I checked the temperature of the water until it was lukewarm.

I sighed as my hands went to my back, untying my dress. As the clothes fell to the ground in a surprisingly elegant manner, I appreciated not being forced to wear a corset. My legs shook as I placed one inside the water until I was sitting down.

I have read in books how a woman and a man would fall in love. A passion that they could not resist. An absolute passion that would make their hands wander through their bodies, wanting to feel each other as close as possible. I have read it so many times that I could lie to my head, making it think that I have experienced something like that.

I have read the way hands seem to burn on the skin, and how breathing becomes more arduous. And how after being pleasured, you need it over, and over again.

I sighed, feeling my nipples hardening, and I learnt they could do so even if the temperature was not cold. My left hand gripped the edge of the bathtub as the right hand rested on my chest. I decided it was time to move it, and closing my eyes, I left it to wander down while grazing my nipples.

When my fingers caressed my tummy, they seemed to become shy. Not used to the places they were descending. I have read books, but I have never experienced the feeling, which made me feel curious.

I tried to remember all the books. My fingers ended up placed on top of my bundle of nerves, and just the mere touch made me shiver from excitement. I slowly moved them in circles, adding more pressure, little by little. The temperature down there seemed to get warmer to the point where it burned. I could not avoid the need to move my fingers faster.

My left hand continued to grip the edge of the bathtub, but this time harder as my mouth opened and my vision became blurry. I felt this strange sensation. I felt like I was going to urinate inside the warm water, and even though I felt quite disgusted by the thought, I could not stop my fingers. They moved in circles, faster and adding much more pressure.

And it came. A rush of pleasure came over my body, and I could not hold back the moans escaping my mouth as I peeped down between my legs. My intimate parts turned red due to temperature and agitation. Then, I regarded the water near it, looking less transparent. So that was it. That is what a woman felt after pleasuring herself.

Curiosity invaded me even more, and I wanted to experience more further.

A couple of days had gone by, and the portrait was already looking amazingly good. I did not have any doubt of Dylan's talent as I have seen some of his works.

"Has anyone shown you around?" We had got a little closer as we spent many hours together for the portrait. He shook his head, taking off his dark green beret, and resting it on a nearer seat as he proceeded to mix some colours. "Would you like to see the gardens and the horses?"

His eyes widened. "Horses, my Lady?" I chuckled at his expression, nodding my head.

"Eight to be exact." His eyes widened even more. I remembered everything he had told me about himself, especially his love for horses. "We could take a rest. I feel dizzy from the smell of paint." He promptly nodded his head, halting and resting his brush on top of an antique plate stuffed with remains of paint.

Strolling through the gardens, I peered at him. He seemed content, having the chance to smell the fresh air mingled with the scent of the white roses that decorated our gardens. "White roses are your favourites." He had surprised me while retrieving such a simple, but a unique fact about me.

I nodded my head. "I prefer them over red roses. Those are overrated." He laughed, making my heart beat loudly. Dylan was an attractive man, and these past days I could not stop my body and my heart from reacting as soon as my gaze met his. "The stables are over there." I pointed to a couple of meters away from us. I extracted my arm as I felt something falling on it. "Oh, it seems like it   will start drizzling." We walked faster to the stables, almost running as the rain appeared to fall swiftly upon our clothes. "You will adore Arden. He is my hor-." I was interrupted as I saw two bodies stirring frantically against each other. Their moans, invading the stables. "Wh-." A hand covered my mouth while another dragged me off the stables. Dylan and I ran under the rain, getting as far as possible from the horses' house.

Both of us gawked at each other in astonishment. "Maybe my eyes deceived me. However, I believe that was Harold?" He seemed as shocked as me.

"They did not trick you." I gulped. "May I add that woman was my mother?"

His eyes widened even more. "T-The Queen?" I nodded my head. "I am so sorry, my Lady."

"I am not angered by the fact she was committing adultery! I know my father is no saint." I gritted my teeth. "I am mad by the fact she lives a miserable life. In which she had to marry a man she does not love, and she wants to impose the same duty on me!" My hands reached my hair, fingers clutching it. "It is not fair for her to desire the same dull and cruel life for me!" Dylan kept quiet, allowing me to rant. "Why must not I experience falling in love with someone? I crave to be touched by adoring hands, not dirty ones that will not care about my desires and will expect for an heir to be conceived." I sighed. "I ache to live that romance until the day I die." I let my posture fall, whining. "Why cannot I be kissed by someone truly interested in me? Why cannot I be touched by someone who desi-."

My speech was interrupted as Dylan's hands rested on my cheeks. His lips were tightly pressed against mine. I have read how a kiss was mostly controlled by the fight of tongues, aspiring to be the dominant one. But this was just a simplistic kiss.

"Oh my-." His eyes widened as my mouth fell open. "I apologize for my behaviour. I do not know what came over my mind for me to-." My hands were now covering his cheeks as I bought him closer. My lips were awkwardly pressed against his. He separated from me, blinking dumbfoundedly. "Close your eyes." I did. "Open your mouth a little, my Lady." His thumb drew my lower lip downwards. As he got closer, I felt his tongue stroking my bottom lip.

My hands were pushed against his chest as I gripped his white shirt between my fingers. One of his hands had to wander to my lower back as my legs shook. His tongue was now grinding against mine, and not knowing what to do, I mimicked his actions. My mouth instinctively melted against his.

"You will be the death of me, my Lady." He held me closer. His right hand, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Literally."

The following day, I walked to the great hall, confident enough not to knock on the door before stepping inside. My mother seemed shocked to be interrupted by my presence, as she gripped the teacup tighter.

Harold wandered behind me, fear written all over his features as he had never seen me disrespecting my mother in such a way.

I gestured for the cello man to leave the room, which he quickly did, not even daring to glance at my mother. "How dare you to come inside in such a-."

"I will not get married." I interrupted her, something I have never done before. I had been informed by my brother that there was a powerful candidate for me to marry. A 52-year-old man. "I will not marry someone I do not love, and even less a 52-year-old King just for our countries to be at peace."

"You have no say on it."

"Mother, do you want me to live the same life as you?" I ventured to ask. "Do you want me to marry a man who will sleep with every servant or woman that crosses his way while my future children will have to suffer the consequences too? A boy that ought to follow the rules of a King until he becomes a tyrant. And a girl who ought to have to act as demanded. Merely for the young male of the family to be even more respected?"

"As I sai-."

"Will I be like you then, mother?" My lower lip trembled. "Will I be cold-hearted towards my children, towards my daughter? Will I have to submit her to the same shameful life as me?" I did not let Harold intervene. "Will I have to close my eyes to true love and consume my infatuation with the person I truly love in some dirty stable?" Both of them were shocked by my words. "You are preparing and forcing me to the life you both have. I do not want to hide from the public eye and keep the person I cherish a secret."

"If this is about that paint-."

"He has nothing to do with this." I did not appreciate the way she spoke about Dylan. "I have openly expressed my discomfort about marrying someone I do not love since I recollect. I understand romance books do not happen in real life. But love does, and marrying someone for my brother's throne is not love." I sighed. "It is not fair for us, women, to be treated like this while men are approached like that!"

She surprisingly glanced at me for a couple of seconds before her sober expression appeared once again. "Every King marries the women they choose. We cannot decide. Every King has bastard children." I had to remind myself that Alexander and Victoria were the children of one of our servants. "Even your brother is going to have a bastard child." I furrowed my eyebrows as it was the first time hearing that news. "Rosetta." A disgusted expression decorated my face.

"Well," I breathed deeply.  "Destiny can be changed." I recited the same words Dylan had told me once. "It might be scary or go against the rules. But destiny can be changed by the decisions you make. Only you are the sailor of the ship." I glimpse at Harold. "I am tired of not being the sailor of my ship." I softened my voice. "Think about it, mother. I will do everything in my power to get out of here, even if it means dying in the process." For the first time in my life, my teary eyes were met with the glistening tears that invaded my mother's eyes. "I will be in my chambers. Please do not bother me at all."

When arriving to my bedroom, I did not expect to see Dylan waiting inside. I locked the door behind me as my eyes examined his entire body.

"Are you all right, my Lady?" He showed the briefcase he was squeezing between his fingers. "Rosetta told me to wait here for you. Since we could not continue with the portrait this morning, I assumed that perhaps, we could tonight."

"Let's escape together." My mouth seemed to move on its own. However, Dylan stared at me with complete confusion decorating his features.

"My Lady, I do not think I understand what you are trying to imply." He knew.

"I have told you before I do not plan on marrying someone whom I do not love." I walked to my bed, sitting down on the mattress. "It has been decided without letting me know that I will get married to the King of Hiraeth."

He glanced down at the floor for a couple of seconds to later shift his gaze on my direction. "Perhaps he is not only a noble because of his blood. Perhaps he is also noble at heart."

"It does not matter if he is noble at heart or not," I answered decisively. "He is a 52 year-old-man! And as I said before, someone I do not love!"

He sighed. "My Lady," Resting his briefcase on the floor, he pulled a chair to sit in front of me. Though, he maintained the distance. "If I am not wrong, you have never met this man before. You might end up fallin-."

"Do not dare to say that!" I got up from the bed, eyes flickering. "Please, do not be like the rest of those who live in this palace! The first time you came here, you told me I could change my fate." He swallowed, nodding his head. "That is what I am trying to do." My hands were squeezing the skirts of my dress. "Please."

"I cannot take you anywhere, my Lady. You are the Princess of Onism. Everyone in town knows the beauty you behold." He coughed while deeply looking into my eyes. "I do not know anyone that will keep the secret of you being in to-."

"You are not understanding me, Dylan." I tried to ignore the way his body shivered every time my tongue and lips worked together to create his name. "I know I told you that I have never experienced love." I bit my lower lip, taking a breath. "I only know what I have read in books." He nodded his head, waiting for me to continue. "But I understand my feelings. Even before the day we kissed under the rain, I was already attracted to you."

"Attraction is something that can be felt many-."

I stepped closer, making him glance up. "It was attraction, I admit." Both of my hands navigated towards my back. "But my heart beats madly, whenever you are near me, whenever I glance at you or when I think about you." He got up from his chair, slightly stepping back. "I am utterly sure that I am in love with a man who worries about me and my feelings. Someone who has been encouraging me and that has seen my fears."

"My Lady," He gulped. "I truly feel honoured to be inside your mind and heart. I will not lie as I do also feel the same towards you." When I moved closer, he prevented me. "But you are a Princess, and I am just a simple man who paints in exchange for food and a roof." He blinked fastly. "I cannot give you the life you might expect." He offered me a side-smile. "And of course, our relationship would not be approved by the King and Queen." His voice turned softer. "Neither by the soon-to-be King of Onism."

"I do not care!"

"But I do, my Lady." He breathed deeply. "I do not want you to live a life where people will insult and degrade you plainly because you married a penniless man, or because you did not obey the established rules of the members of the royalty."

"I already have that life, where I am discredited just because I am a woman." This time when I stepped closer, he did not back away. "I already have to follow settled rules for the sake of my brother." My hands were still behind my back, and I finally decided to let them untie. He did not notice yet. "But now I have found someone who makes me feel something I have never experienced before." I sighed. "What did you do to me, Dylan?" He opened his mouth. "My mind and heart are full of you, and they constantly demand my body to be filled by you too."

His neck and cheeks turned red as he seemed to have difficulties while swallowing his spit. His eyes shifted around the room, trying to decide what to do. "My Lady," He sighed in desperation. His hands travelling through his body while he clenched it and gritted his teeth. "I truly have been trying to hold back." His hands now grazed his face. "I have been trying to hide how in love I am with you as I am just someone who does not deserve you."

"You are the man who deserves me the most." The shoulders of my dress fell, displaying my bare skin. His eyes widened even more. "And you do not have to hold back anymore." Finally, the cloth fell onto the ground. "I have read so many things, but I have never thought of experiencing them." I felt embarrassed by revealing such a matter. "I could not hold my hands from exploring my body for the first time as your image was in my mind."

"You did?" I nodded my head. His eyes had never left mine, not even to peer at my underwear. A rush of confidence seemed to hasten through him as he walked to the door, securing it. "Show me." My expression must have confused him. "Show me how you did it."

It was my turn to gulp as I got on my mattress, lying down on my back. I was slightly sitting thanks to the pillow, which granted me to discern Dylan as he shuffled closer to the end of the bed.

My bralette was already off, but his eyes still fixed on mine. "You can look." As soon as those words came out of my mouth, his eyes glanced down at my chest. It seemed like he had complications breathing.

My hands gently travelled down, gripping the sides of my underwear and slowly bringing them down my legs. The chilly air was a contrast of temperature to my entire body. I shifted my legs to completely discard my panties, which ended up someplace on the ground.

I permitted my fingers to touch the bundle of nerves, suffering a chill through my body that reminded me of that time in the bathtub, or the following times where I could not restrain my needs. Rubbing on circles, my other hand went to my mouth, biting on it not to make any sound.

"That is how you did it?" I nodded my head. "Until you exploded?" Again, I acknowledged with my head. "My Lady. Has any man touch you in such a way?" Shaking my head, he offered me a smile. "May I be the first one to do so?" I nodded my head, which he did not seem to like. "Please, use your words."

"I do," I did not hesitate. "I do want to be touched by you, Dylan."

"I might die right now, my Lady." He wandered closer. His hands slowly discarded his dark blue beret. Then, his fingers rapidly unbuttoned his white shirt, which had some dark little stains due to his paintings. His body was fit, enough to make a woman drool. I must say, he seemed broader than what I have imagined. "Have you ever introduced your fingers inside?"

I shook my head.

I hear the sound of his shoes falling to the ground as he kneeled on the end of the bed. His right hand moved my left hand from my clit, leading it to his hair. "Hold on tight, my Lady." Not sure of his next actions, I shivered as his breath hit my heated core. His tongue peeked out from his mouth, gently grazing my centre.

I gripped his soft hair between my fingers, making his gaze shift to look deep into my eyes. His tongue lapped, adding pressure on my clit. I whined as his tender tongue left my core to slid down and up a couple of times, extending my wetness all over my intimate part.

I was utterly surprised when the tip of his tongue ended up inside me, and he seemed to noticed as he grounded it against my walls. His right hand slowly left my thigh, where his grip had been tough. "I will be gentle." His whispers were almost unnoticeable as my moans were louder, feeling one of his warm fingers getting coated by my juices as he introduced it, inside my vagina. "Does it feel good?" Without waiting for an answer, he started thrusting it. His lapping tongue and his thrusting finger, producing a drooling combination.

"Oh my god," The candles that were lit, and resting on the table next to my bed seemed to flatter by a scene hotter than their flames. "Faster, please." I must not lie. Introducing his second finger on me had provided a slight pain. But seconds later, it had been replaced by an unbelievable pleasure. "Please do not make me beg."

"I would like to see you beg, my Lady." His mouth had left my clit, chin dripping with my fluids. "I would love to see you beg under the light of the candles while no one else knows that you are getting the love and passion you deserve." His fingers made a wet sound when they left my insides. I could not help but whine as he got farther from my body but became expectant when his fingers played with his belt.

As soon as he slid his pants down his legs, I could not help but moan again. There was a bulge between his legs, and I could not help but get flustered thinking about having him inside me. However, I was quite worried about his size as he already seemed thick through his pants.

I remembered a scene from a book where this girl had her first experience with her childhood friend. They had become lovers and decided to consume their love on top of the counter of the protagonist's kitchen. Her description of the scene was incredibly detailed. And even though my body had become more heated while reading it, I could not help but be worried when she described the experience as feeling as if she was getting 'ripped', which was quite vulgar but exciting in an unusual way.

I had been distracted by my thoughts, as to when I realized my rounds, Dylan's member was finally free. It stood tall and thick against his stomach. He could not help but contain his grin as I gasped.

"I never-."

"I know, my Lady." His hands grabbed my ankles, calmly making their way to my thighs, which he squeezed while separating my legs even more. "I am utterly happy to be the first and only man to make love to you." Uh? "I will take care of you for the rest of my life." His eyes looked deep into mine, asking for permission for his next movements and actions. Of course, I nodded.

He grabbed his shaft, his hand circling it while he thrust into his clenched fist a couple of times. He left if free, spitting on his hand to later grab his member again, lubricating it.

"I am a little scared," I confessed, shifting my gaze to his face. "You are so thick and long. H-How is that supposed to fit inside-."

"We can stop if you want, my Lady." One of his thumbs caressed one of my thighs. "There is no rush and enough time to do this whenever you feel ready."

"I do want to do it! I am just a little scared." I gulped, glancing down at his member. "Could you maybe go slowly?"

He nodded his head, getting closer and placing a peck on my lips. "Whatever you wish for, my Lady." Asking for permission again, he waited until it was granted, for the tip of his member to graze the lips of my vagina. "Here I go." He started adding pressure. Until the entire tip was inside, making me gasp. "Sh, breathe." His right hand went to my tummy, caressing it. "We can go slower."

I nodded my head as I took deep breaths, ignoring the tears that were falling from the corner of my eyes. A couple of minutes went by when I decided that the pain had become a pleasure. I shifted my hips toward Dylan. I was right as there was only pleasure. "Dylan, please," I whined. "Please move."

His entire member was inside me, and Dylan's thrusts had become steady and swift. His mouth was travelling from my jaw to my lips, sometimes stopping to ask for my well-being.

One of his hands left my hips, going between our bodies as he started circling my clit, adding more pleasure. "Oh my gosh," I raised my voice, not being able to hold back the incredible feeling. "Lord, please go faster." I circled my legs around his hips, bringing him closer if it was possible. His member, hitting places that it could not reach before. Wails of satisfaction came out of my mouth. "Please, fuck me harder."

He seemed quite shocked by my choice of words as his eyes widened. But he had seemed to enjoy them too, as his thrusts became even faster and sloppier. "I will not last long." He groaned, not afraid of expressing his pleasure while his lips grazed my ear. "I have been dreaming of this for so long." His moans made my entire body shiver. His right hand, circling my clit even faster. "Please, my Lady. Tell me you are close. Please."

"I am!" I drowned my screams while biting his shoulder. "I am so close." His left hand travelled to my left nipple, toying with it. The different stimulations, getting me dizzy while my vision became blurry. And I came undone under Dylan's body.

Reading was nothing like experiencing it.

My breath was laborious. Dylan stayed inside, thrusting a couple of times more until he quickly came out, thrusting in his clenched fist. He was going to finish soon. His eyes, questioning where to explode. My hands went to my breasts, holding them together.

Dylan's eyes widened as he understood what I was implying. He moved, his hips getting closer as his dick ended up being embraced by my breasts. I held them in place while he thrust, moaning at the contact. His tip, hitting my chin and lower lip. He did not last much longer, exploding and cumming all over my chin and lower lip.

He gasped, our bodies full of sweat. "I made a mess. I am so sorry, my L-." My tongue peeked out of my mouth, licking some of the cum that was resting on my lower lip. "I-. Oh, gosh." His lips settled up against mine. His tongue, parting my lips so his tongue could slowly dance against mine. "Did it feel good?"

"It felt amazing." I was still trying to breathe at a regular pace.

He kissed my forehead, leaving the bed and wandering to the bathroom. His member was still lightly hard. But he quickly gave me the view of his butt.

When he came back, he was gripping a towel. Sitting on the side of the bed, he slowly cleaned his release from my chin and chest. Then, folding it, he cleaned between my legs. He was cautious, trying not to hurt me as my entire body was sensitive. Next, he discarded the towel.

His body fell on the bed next to mine. We both gazed into each other's eyes with foolish smiles decorating our faces. "I do not want to leave. But night curfew will be soon."

"I do not care." I wrapped my sore body against him, breathing in. "Stay here. Nobody will know. You can leave early in the morning." I did not notice I was pouting until his lips pecked mine. Then, the rest of the night was a cuddling blur as exhaustion took over our bodies.

Another couple of days had gone by, and it was nearly impossible to keep our hands for ourselves. Dylan had been sleeping in my chambers, which was difficult to hide. I had been ignoring my mother and Harold as much as possible. And thankfully, my brother was away in a political meeting with my father. We had also continued the portrait sessions, which sometimes ended with our bodies full of paint as we could not hold back for holding each other.

I must confess that there had been sexual escapes around the palace, which was a surprise, as we did not get caught yet. Momentarily, Dylan's boxers were around his ankles like his pants as I was grabbing the skirts of my dress.

My face and chest were pressed against the wall of a tiny room while he thrust in me from behind. "Ah, we will get caught." He whispered but did not stop his movements. "You are going to be the death of me, my Lady."

We had been walking around the castle until I could not hold back myself anymore. I took Dylan's hand, going inside a tiny room that, it is used, for cleaning materials. Therefore, we were fucking as fast as we could, aiming for a release. "Please, go deeper!"

"I believe I am as immersed as I can, my Lady." The sound of our skin slapping against each other turned both of us on even more.

We both were close to our release. But we were rudely interrupted by the door of the room opening, showing Rosetta and Harold, who stared at us with surprise written all over their faces.

Dylan quickly came out of me, pulling his boxers and pants up while I let the skirts of my dress fall.

"Harold," I started. "Please, do not say anything." My eyes begged. "Could you please give us five minutes and wait in my chambers?" Without saying anything, they closed the door. "Oh my god."

"It is okay, my Lady." Fear was visible in his face and voice.

I was baffled as when entering my chambers, my mother was there, next to Harold. He ignored my gaze, staring deep into Dylan's eyes.

"Mother-."

"I told you!" She did not hesitate to raise her voice. "I know you did not choose to be a princess, but this is what we have to deal with." I could not protest. "I am not trying to make you miserable. I was trying to avoid a situation like this where this young man," Surprisingly, she did not glare at the young man next to me, who was squeezing my hand. "And you will be in danger!" She sighed. "Imagine if it was your father or brother finding you two! They arrived early this morning!" I did not know about their arrival. "He would have killed him and make you watch." I gasped, getting teary. "I did not want you guys to end as I did."

"What?" I asked while being overwhelmed by confusion.

"Your mother," Harold decided to spoke as my mother had to seat on the end of my bed, trying to calm herself. "She fell in love with a servant of this palace, way before you were born." Dylan and I were pretty interested in the story. "You do not choose who you love, my Lady." He shifted his gaze between the two of us. "However, keeping such a secret was complicated. And eventually, someone found out." His hand rested on my mother's back. "Unfortunately, the one that discovered them passionately kissing in the gardens was your father." I gulped while swaying closer to Dylan, searching for his warmth. "He executed him right there, in front of your mother."

"Those white roses used to be red." My mother's voice shook while she referred to those planted in our garden. "It was so repulsive to see that his blood mattered nothing when for me mattered the world. He was my world." She offered us a sad smile. "No one mourned for his loss except me. His body was taken away by other servants in uncaring behaviour. His blood could not be seen, because it had splattered on the flowers that had the same tone." She wept, trying to breathe and calm herself to continue. "It was as if he had never existed. I thought I had gone crazy, and I had imagined the love and the man that I desired to have."

"Mother," My eyes were teary. "I am so sorry that happened to you, and now, I understand you tried to protect me." I glimpsed at Harold for a couple of seconds. "But this is just throwing me into a deeper hole. I will end up in a similar situation to yours, and my children will be doomed, to the same cruel fate." I was desperate. "Mother, destiny can be changed." Dylan was looking at me, a tiny smile on his face while he rubbed one of my freezing hands.

"I have seen you grow up," Harold intervened. "I have learnt every one of your moves, understanding when you wanted to cry or laugh." He grinned, crossing his arms. "Deep inside, I knew one day you would want to fight from the established and dull life you are supposed to live."

"He spoke to me." My mother continued. "Harold opened my eyes, and he taught me to perceive that you were falling in love with this young man." She bowed at Dylan, and he returned the same gesture. "And I perceived that this young man was falling in love with you too."

"Your father and brother lied of their whereabouts." Harold stepped closer. "They bought with them a visitor."

My mother shifted closer to us. "It is the King of Hiraeth." She gulped. "The 52 year-old-man that they expect to marry you with."

"No," I shook my head. "Please, mother." I could not stop the tears from falling down my cheeks. "Please, mother. Do not let them do that. Please. Please." Before I could fall to my knees, my mother held her hand up, offering me a brown bag.

"It is yours now." My mother replied, sliding the bag into my hands. "This will help both of you." Money, there was a lot of gold inside the bag. Dylan was looking inside the container with wide eyes as I did. "If I had stolen money from your father, he would have noticed. Therefore, I bargained my jewellery." Her hand unconsciously went to her neck, and I noticed her diamond necklace missing.

"Here," Harold extended his arm, offering us a piece of paper. Dylan clutched it. It was a map. "That black circle is your shared property. It is a near kingdom, not too far from here but enough for you two to be safe and not be recognized, as the Princess of Onism."

"What?" My mouth was agape.

"It is Elysian. It is a small town full of life, and it is secure." Harold explained with a smile. "It is your new home. The money will help you guys for a couple of years, but of course, my Lady, you will have to get used to a life without servants and luxuries. However, I do not have any doubt that you will be able to adapt to such a life."

"Then," I glanced at my mother. "You are helping me escape?"

"I am helping both of you leave." She cried. "I am helping you get out of the life you did not choose and the one you do not desire." I turned around to stare at Dylan, who had tears running down his cheeks while smiling at me. He shyly pecked my forehead. He wiped his tears while bowing again, staying in that position for a couple of seconds. "No, no, please stand up." He did. "We are family now. Please take care of my little girl."

"I will, your highness." His words sounded so confident that it made my heart beat violently.

"W-What about you two?" I glanced between them. "Are you coming with us?" I was expectant to hear their answer.

My mother shook her head. "We did change our destiny." She referred to the present situation. "Do not worry about us."

"But-."

"My Lady," Harold took me into his arms, embracing me. "Escaping is more complex for us. But do not worry, because we will end up getting away from here. One day, we will." He smiled at me. "For now, Arden is prepared to take you both far from Onism tonight."

I nodded my head. "Take care of my mother, and thank you for being like a father to me." After squeezing him, I quickly hugged my mother. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Before they left my room, my mum turned around. "Dylan is your name, right?" He nodded his head. "I viewed the portrait. It looks marvellous. Take it with you." He was perplexed. "The portrait was for the man that will marry her. That man is you, so that portrait belongs to you."

"I bought gifts!" I overheard two squeals, rolling my eyes with a foolish smile, adorning my features. Two tiny figures ran to the owner of the voice. "Perhaps you both only love me when I bring presents."

"Perhaps they do." I walked closer to the man, whose beautiful smile was aimed, at me. My right hand gripped his arm, a signal for him to lower his head so I could peck his lips. "Welcome home. I made your favourite dish." My lips had trapped his bottom one between mines for a couple of seconds, making him whine lowly.

He seemed to be dumbfounded while pecking my lips a couple of times until our children interrupted the moment with their excitement to know what their father had brought them. "Well," He chuckled. "I bought my little princess this!" He took a stuffed animal from his coffee-coloured bag. Charlotte squealed and giggled while running around the room with her new plaything. "And I bought my not-so-little prince," He remembered how our little boy did not want to be named as a child anymore. "This." He showed him a new brand book, which cover was of a dark blue with golden touches.

Thomas could not help but grin. "This book was printed a couple of days ago! Thank you so much, father!" He tightly hugged his dad. "Perhaps I could bring it with me to the Addington's home?" He could not help but jump around due to his excitement. "I believe Newt will love it too!"

Dylan nodded his head. "Take care fo your sister, please."

The Addington's were a young family of five that lived next door. We were constantly inviting each other over to our homes, wanting the kids to play together. We, the adults, were also mates. A couple of times, we babysit each other's kids to have privacy with our respective partners.

As soon as the kids were out of the door, Dylan's briefcase had fallen to the ground. He had been away for an entire week due to a commission of a portrait where he would earn a lot of money.

His hands were caressing my entire body as we both tried to make our way to our shared chamber, in hopes of continuing the passion there. "I have missed you so much, my Princess."

My fingers moved quickly, trying to untie the dress I was wearing. My hands were sweaty, and Dylan must have noticed as he ended up unlacing my attire. "I am not a Princess anymore."

He swallowed, eyes focused on my breasts as I was not wearing a bralette. Both of his warm hands slid up, cupping my bosom. His fingers grazed my nipples while his entire hands squeezed the rest. "You are right." His gaze shifted to my lips. "You are the queen of my heart now, my Lady." That name had stayed since the very beginning, and every time it came rolling gently out of his lips, my undergarments got drenched.

"I will explode right here, Dylan." I moaned as my hands were busy sliding down his pants while he worked on his jacket and shirt. "I have missed having you around. And being around you."

He groaned, slipping one of his hands behind my back as he squeezed my buttocks. I whined when he pinched it. "You seem to be so desperate for me."

"That smirk," I grinned while kissing his bottom lip. "Perhaps you are as desperate as me." I glanced down as I spotted his hard bulge against my front.

"I am not as needy as you are, my Lady." The last word was said sensually, making my legs shake.

"I am sure you are as needy as me, Sir." It was that word for him. I could feel the temperature of his body rising.

"What does my queen require from such a humble servant?" He acted while sprawling my body down on the bed. His hands, gripping the sides of my panties, bringing the down and discarding them. "Maybe she needs help down here?" One of his fingers ran up and down, collecting my fluids. He did not hesitate to bring that finger into his mouth, savouring it. "My Lady, perhaps I should confess that you taste like Heaven, itself."

His face leaned closer to my core, but I immediately stopped him. He glimpsed at me, confused. "I want to be the one giving you as much pleasure as possible." Sitting down on the bed, my hands pushed against his chest until he was the one lying on his back.

I questioned myself when he had taken his boxers off as his member sprang free, hitting his tummy. Pre-cum was decorating his pink tip while sometimes, you could see it palpitating as the veins were tightening.

My right hand started working immediately, grabbing his shaft while going up and down. I softly squeezed it as his arm rested on top of his forehead, blissfully. My thumb stayed on the tip, playing with the tiny drops of pre-cum.

"Gosh, are you an angel?" His words wavered as my left hand cupped his balls, lightly tugging on them. "My Lady, I need your mouth, please." I attended his demands, my left hand still playing with his balls.

However, my mouth was also sucking on the lowest part of his member. Licking my way up, my mouth embraced the tip of his dick. His hands went through my hair, settling on grasping it forcefully and guiding me down until his entire thick member was inside my mouth.

His moans got louder as his hips could not hold back, shifting upwards, choking me as his tip scraped the back of my throat. "My Lady." Glancing upwards, I could see the sweat falling down his forehead. His entire body was sweating, especially the part of his chest with a spot of hair.

I sucked harder, preventing my teeth from grazing his delicate member. "May I come inside your mouth, my Lady?" Humming against his dick, he seemed to understand my permission. A couple of hard thrusts that chocked me and he was cumming down my throat, spilling a big load. His breath was laborious as his hands caressed my hair back. "Please, ride me."

He whined when his member lost the warmth of my mouth as I shifted my body to position myself on top of him. My left hand was resting against his chest. My other hand, grabbing his still firm member. "May I?" He nodded his head. As soon as he was filling me up, both of us became a moaning mess. "Ah, I felt so empty without your dick inside me."

His hands instantly clutched my hips as he encouraged me to bounce on top him. "You look so ravishing while you bounce on my dick." I moaned, loving his dirty talk. "I could do this every day. I love how your breasts bounce while you are getting stretched by my dick." He gulped. "They have got even bigger after you had our beautiful children." His right hand slapped my ass. "Listen," I ceased my moans as I heard the slapping sounds of our skins. "You are so wet for me, my Lady. Your pussy demands to hold my dick."

Both of my hands were now resting against his chest. "I am going to explode." The hand that was on my ass moved to the front, flicking my clitoris. "You fill me up so good, Sir!"

"I will fill you even more soon." He groaned, sitting down so he could move me closer to my body. Our mouths, touching in an open kiss. "I am going to release my entire load inside you. I am going to impregnate you, my Lady." I moaned. "You want that, right?" His thrusts became sloppier and harder. "You want to get filled and carry another gorgeous baby." I nodded my head. "You are as irresistible while pregnant. The way you cannot keep your hands to yourself. The way your bosom gets even bigger."

"Please, fill me."

No more words needed to be said as our teeth clattered against each other, riding our highs together. My vision got blurry, and my moans louder as I felt all of his huge load filling me up. "Oh, fuck me, my Lady. You take my load so good." The rest was full of kisses and warm under the sheets. His member had softened inside me.

On one of the walls of our chambers, there was a portrait of my younger self. She resembled grave and upset. Her composture seemed forced, but around her body, there were flames. Sparks that represented the passion she badly wanted to share. The adventures she wanted to live. There was a yellow light, which seemed, to be connected to her heart.

Dylan had described a young lady who aspired to live a passionate life. A young woman whose heart and mind were full of hope.

There was a lovely detail on the portrait. On the wall behind the young girl, there was a mirror, where you could perceive a young Dylan, examining the woman before him with a peculiar shining light on his eyes. The identical light young Y/N had while looking at Dylan O'Brien, the humble painter who shared the 'fictional' love she always wanted to experience.The love they both found and fancied.

Yes, destiny could be changed.

.

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Those who asked to be tagged. Thank you for showing interest: 

@og-baby-ob14​ - @sweetest-serpent01​ - @tovvaa​ - @jazminebrightxx​ - @sonnydoesrandomshit​ - @badgyal-barbie​ - @trustfundparker​ - @blueraindrops​ 

[jadelynlace]

ink drinker / Modern Vikings AU, Ivar x F!Reader, Chapter 3

catch up here!

synopsis: Ivar was only meant to be a friend with benefits, but he caught feelings for his older brother’s best friend, and co-worker: you.

pairing: Ivar x F!Reader

author’s note & content warning: mentions of depression, self harm and suicidal thoughts; all pertaining to Ivar, not reader. mentions of therapy, medication and past history of self inflicted & blooming trauma. please read at your own risk. my messages are always, always open for anyone who may ever need a listener. anything in italics indicates a flash back. there are so many fucking feelings in this chapter that I just, am apologizing now. but there’s smut!

✎

It was gloomy the morning you remembered finally catching a glimpse of Ivar’s scars. Adorned and nearly smothered by him in his bed, the small snores from him somewhere draped across your skin, traveling over the plains in warm boulders. You were always drawn to the artwork on his limbs, there was always a smaller detail you missed and found within your next search but through the endless gazes you finally caught sight of the jagged white flesh. The since healed lacerations and your medical knowledge took full force of your mind. They were scars, they were healed scars, but they were scars from the straight edge of a razor blade. With such precision and such aftermath you knew they were the scars with one intent within their making. And they were there to tell you the secret horrors Ivar had not yet spoken—that there was a point where he felt his heart should no longer beat, and his lungs should no longer fill and that his life was meaningless. And that he should end it.

*

“Can I ask you something?” You finally find yourself mumbling; words floating through the cabin of the parked ambulance on stand by. Hvitserk’s coffee halfway through to his stomach when you peep in such a meek voice he almost coughs the molten liquid back out.

“Yeah, of course, Y/N,”

“How bad is Ivar’s depression?” And you simply ask. No foreword to the speech, no coating of sugar or dusting of fake joy. As blunt as you had been trained to voice the death of a loved one to their family. “I saw the medication in his cabinet, and I saw the scars on his wrists. I know it’s none of my business because he’s your brother, but…” and you can’t find a lie to justify it. Not ready to spill to your partner about the times Ivar had spilled into the condoms with you.

“Bad,” Hvitserk says, and just as bluntly. “He…he tried to kill himself in college. I don’t know if you’ve noticed how he’s never available Saturdays from eleven to noon, but that’s when he has therapy. I had been trying to convince him since high school to see someone, and Floki finally got through to him not too long ago,” He adds. “When I got that phone call from mom that he was in the hospital—I felt like such a failure, Y/N, because I knew it was coming and I did nothing to stop it,” Your hand goes to his wrist for a second, a quick squeeze of added support as you listen.

“Sometimes people refuse what’s good for them, Hvitty,” You start. “You should know that—how many times have we explained to someone why they should go to the hospital with us, but they still refuse?” He finally cracks a smile at that. “Do you think he’s in a better place now, mentally?”

“Either that, or he’s just stable. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Ivar doesn’t like to talk about his feelings…”

“Wow Hvitserk, I had no idea,” You tease, nudging him with both your elbow and sarcastic tone as the voice on the radio fills into the cabin. Your stand by is over and the conversation is dropped as you leave the scene.

*

There had been instances where you think he might be ready; he might understand that the new gifting of your relationship status might help him to realize you aren’t joking when you offer to listen. You’d listen to Ivar talk until he ran out of things to say if it came to that. More times now the words perched themselves on his lips, ready to spring forwards but he keeps pulling them back. He keeps swallowing them because they’re mixed like bile and stew and far too gross, far too un-human for him to even want to try to speak them to you. And then Ivar kicks himself for drowning these demons who have started to learn to swim and he sees you in your uniform and remembers that nothing phases you. You watch open heart surgery on the television while you eat his mother’s lasagna without a care in the world or a realization that what you were doing is unusual. 

“Can I talk to you?” Ivar says bluntly, sitting like a cowered dog in the living room and you’re hardly through his front door when he asks. You can feel how your head rises slowly, a quick snarky word to come back but you bite down on your tongue so roughly you can taste blood as you just look at him. You have never seen a man of his stature try to look so small, try to be so invisible. Worry comes to your face just as quickly as the next breath passes through your diaphragm and you’re on the couch before you even take your shoes off. “It’s messy,” He finally admits. Shallow and dead and you can see the broken boy that has tried to hide himself through the bulked muscles and the tattoos; the glare through his blue eyes and the curved lip.

“Most of what involves the human body is messy, Ivar,” You find yourself saying back, and it sounds pathetic to your ears. It sounds like you’re trying to tell the parent of a dead child that you know how they feel but you don’t. And you never will. But Ivar shedding this skin for you feels like you’re walking through the motions on a call, eyes from crowds of people crawling over and stuck on your every move. And every move that comes next like they’re watching a soap opera with their dinner and they’ve disconnect that what is happening is real, it’s someones life. Just like how you have to disconnect. But in this moment it’s Ivar, and you’re present. 

“Like paint,” Ivar mumbles next. 

“Yeah, like paint,” You repeat and there’s a smile on your lips for a second. “Ivar? You don’t do that anymore, do you?” You finally find the courage to ask.

“No,” Ivar says as he glances down at his right hand’s wrist, shoving the skin next to the sweatshirt he’s wearing as if rubbing it on the gray cotton will make those scars dissipate. “I get tattoos instead,” That causes a sick button to click in your consciousness as to why Ivar is so heavily covered from his shoulders to his ankles in artwork. How the sting of the needle dawning the creations reminded him of the blade he tried to use to make the mess of thoughts fly away. To make the demons come free through his skin and leave him with peace, if only a moment. 

“What helps? What helps you stay present?” You ask. Ivar blinks far too many times, sorting through his brain for the answers as if it’s a container of memorabilia that’s so unorganized even his mother can’t stand the sight of it.

“My brothers help, sometimes,” He says. “I think about how devastated my mom would be. I think about Floki. I think about all of the people in my life who say they want me here even when my mind is trying to tell me I don’t deserve to be.”

“I want you here, Ivar.” You say back and catch how he looks at you when you admit such.

“Why? Have you seen yourself, Y/N? You could have anyone you want and you choose me…” The sentence breaks your heart but you now know the darkness the climbs between his ears. The seed planted so long ago in the depths of brown ground somewhere and you want to pull it from the mental garden. You want to rip the roots right from the soil and burn them so they never have a chance to infest any farther.

“No one makes me feel the way you do, Ivar,” Are the first words from your mouth. “You make me smile, you make me feel important—you remind me how to escape. Even on the worst possible days I can have, you bring me back to reality.” You want to tell him how he’s addicting, how there’s a quality to him you can’t articulate but always keeps you coming back. How you want to keep coming back because both your mind, and your body know it’s safe. How he was someone so mysterious from the outside but past every highly built wall is a man who is just so simply himself. “Because you’re you, Ivar. With the bachelor’s degree in calculus, and the copious amounts of tattoos, and a heart of gold that…you forget that you have,” You finally add. “You’re someone different to the rest of the world, but you’re the real Ivar around me,” You worry that the silence that over takes him is a sign of something else. A sign that you spoke too much, again, and scarred him for more than he could withstand. And then he smiles. 

But you can’t understand why—why he smiles for someone like you. The one who let him design your first ever tattoo to his heart’s content. The one who has the same twisted sense of humor. The one who will bicker back and challenge him. The one who gets to see him fall apart between your legs. The one who makes him hard, and has him make those noises. The moans, the heavy panting and rasped groans as he bottoms out and moves through you. The one who gets to watch how his eyes snap shut, and his mouth drops open when you clench around him; how his entire back tenses when he’s close. How he holds you as he fills the rubber with everything he has. The man who loves your nails trailing on his skin. The man who smothers you every night that he spends with you, and every morning when you wake and he’s still there. Making you coffee and cooking you breakfast. How he knows your takeout order from your favorite places, and your work schedule. What food to have at his own apartment, and what movies he should have on demand. The spare clothes he keeps there for when you come over after work, ready to take the ambulance grime from your skin. The pads that are in his bathroom closet, the painkillers. The bottle of “girly white wine” that he won’t admit to drinking too, because it is damn good wine. The man who knows to check in with you during the day, and again to make sure you really are alright. The same man who knows if you don’t text him back, you and Hvitserk have gone knee deep into either a bullshit call, or a tragic one. As shocked as you were that he was listening to what you were saying—and taking it to heart—you were stunned that you hadn’t caught on to how obvious it was that Ivar was in love with you. Even with all of the time you spend crammed between your own thoughts.

“There’s a lot to sort through,” Ivar says again.

“That’s okay, Ivar,” You remind him, your head resting on his shoulder and you feel him shift, move his arm to encompass you as you curl against his side.

“You smell like bleach,” He softly laughs, his nose deep against your hair and you snort, reminded of the decontamination duties you were gifted from the calls today.

“Better than Hvitserk, who got puked on,” You reply. “Shower?” And you can feel Ivar nod against you. 

His hands don’t move rapidly to shed your clothing, or to shed his own. There’s a certain calmness through his motions as he waits for the water to warm, slipping your polo from your shoulders, and planting his lips in its wake. Against the base of your neck, your spine, hugging your body flush against his in front of the mirror. Your eyes catch sight of his hands coming back around you, squeezing your breasts and you can’t stop the moan that crawls from your mouth. The traces of artwork on his fingers as his lips move from your neck, to the shell of your ear and graze your pulse point. There’s a push from your backside against his groin, and Ivar growls in response, humming not far after as you feel how his cock hardens the farther his hands roam.   

Down your sides, your abdomen, swirling through your folds and dipping between them to catch your juices. Circling against the bundle of nerves he knows so precisely and you moan twice as loudly, and he does too as you moisten to his fingers. Your hands move to grab at him, anywhere they can and you find one hand holding his neck and the other wrapping around his length. Your nails crawl to his hair, pulling the locks down as his fingers take to moving quickly, spreading your womanhood and arousal and you suddenly can’t wait much longer to have him. And he can tell by how you whimper, whisper to him about how you want to feel him inside of you and there’s no fight anywhere on his body to try to deny the tone of your begging. Ivar’s eyes catch yours in the mirror as he finally pushes into you, the cold porcelain sink calming the heat of your skin as he bottoms out and rests his body against yours. There’s a sinful moan that comes through his lips as his eyes bore into yours, with the squeeze from your walls and warmth you spread through him and at first he can’t move, he only wants to savor it. His eyes finally close as he slips away from you, pushing in once more as your body rocks to the sink, singing back to him as the steam from the forgotten shower starts to fog against the mirror. Your name is through his lips as he moves, tattooed hands coming to find yours as he moves your body with each thrust, each timed sensation and you feel your own orgasm approaching. His mouth open on your ear, eyes screwed shut between love and ecstasy as his breath tickles down your face and you’re close now, far closer and far faster than you’ve ever been

“Ivar—” comes your voice and there’s only a hum in response, wordlessly pleading for you to let go because he’s got you, and you know that. Your knuckles white washed against his as you finish, shaking against the sink and you miss how Ivar’s eyes watch you unfold. Studying the pleasure laced in your features. 

“Where, baby?” He says quickly, and you shudder as you remember he’s bare now, condom long since forgotten but there are still the small pills you swallow. Still working somewhere you know of, but the accuracy decreases when you take them irregularly—and there’s a big part of your life that calls for that to happen. The alarming lights and loud tones. But you know that you’re safe. With Ivar you’re always safe.

“Inside,” You finally say, his hips stopping to starve off the inevitable as he waits for you to be sure, as he waits to see the seriousness on your face so he knows you aren’t lying in the heat of the moment. And you have to say it again for him to start up again, remind him that you have a safety net. The sensitivity in your cunt melts as he keeps moving and you can tell another orgasm is starting to build. Ivar reaches from your hand quickly and starts his fingers against your clit, quick circles as you hear him get louder, feel his other arm move to crush you and you catch his face as he finishes. The sight searing in your vision and colliding with how he moves with you and your second release rolls through you. His seed spilling and you both moan, his lips still plastered against your ear and you can feel the shake through his whole body as he floats back down. The tense in his thighs pushing you against the counter. There’s a whimper next from him, as he stills, wrapping tightly to hold you there, like it was all a dream he doesn’t want to wake up from. 

“I love you,” You hear him say against your skin and you’re right there to repeat it back to him. “You don’t have to mean it,” He then tries and you already know what he’s doing.

“I do, Ivar,” You say back, trying to make him look at you through the mirror but his eyes are still closed. He slowly slips from you, his release sticking between your thighs as he slides away and you’re only then able to turn in his arms. Reaching forwards to pull his mouth against his. “I love you. You and me Ivar, against the world,” You say and he hums at that, a small snicker not far after. 

“I like how that sounds, baby,” His smile comes next, dopey and boyish as he finally looks into your eyes and understands that you don’t doubt any part of him. You love it all—the good and the bad and the evil things he may think about himself. You love them all because you know he feels the same way when it comes to you. “The hot water’s going to run out soon,” He mumbles as he holds you. And standing in the shower is not much more different, still wrapped up safely in his arms as you both feel the troubles melt down the drain.

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🌊 a/n: here's my side of a trade for the lovely server I'm part of!! I got @ztarvokwrites for my draw and decided to give writing Galdino a try :) once again writing for ocs when I can't ask questions is hard so I hope it's not too ooc ;0; I hope you like this dear <3

🌊 details: SFW//Galdino x OC//w.c: 1k

The waves were calm, crashing softly onto the pale sandy beach and leaving seafoam in its wake. The birds cawed above, their voices swept up in the gentle breeze that ruffled Roseanne’s hair, the brown strands tickling her face. She pushes it away from her eyes, hand moving to shade her eyes from the bright sun above that lights up the baby blue sea.

The summer island was quiet, the loudest noise seemed to solely be the sound of the shaking leaves when the breeze snaked through them. For such a beautiful day, the beach was empty which left plenty of room for the couple to sit and enjoy the lovely day. Roseanne’s hand took Gladino’s, squeezing lightly and fixing the umbrella tucked under her arm.

Galdino’s feet dragged lightly on the sandy walkway down to the shore, his last interest on the sea in front of him. Like cats and dogs, devil fruit users and the sea were sworn enemies. Despite his pirate lifestyle, he’d never seemed to grow any sort of fondness towards the sea. Not to the waves, to the seashells or the sand.

Well, with the memories of a former boss, Rose couldn’t blame him for his distaste towards sand.

“It’s so beautiful outside, isn’t it?” She holds lightly onto the brim of her hat as another breeze ruffles her hair, facing Gladino beside her. Her sun kissed skin glows under the light, red eyes glimmering like rubies and he can feel his heart skip a beat.

Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. 

“It is,” he hums as sand is swept up and brushes against his skin in the breeze. “But I would personally say you are much more beautiful.” A knowing smile paints his face even when Roseanne’s hand shoots her face to cover up the dark blush creeping across her face. Not even the sun beaming down on the couple could compare to how hot her face seemed.

The blue waves looked much nicer, a possible way to wash the red hot blush from her cheeks but Galdino holds her hand in his was  a gentle grip, continuing their stroll down the walkway towards the shore. It was a date and a date is well spent enjoying your time. So they take their time, sharing sweet words almost swept away in the breeze and plenty of kisses till the sand crumbles below their feet.

“We don’t need to be close to the water to enjoy our time, there’s plenty of things to do on the beach!” Roseanne smiles widely as Galdino and sets down a blanket, tossing her shoes off to the side and patting the spot next to her. He grimaces at the sea water drawing close to their spot but finds his spot next to Roseanne.

She flops down on the blanket, already warming under the sun and pulls Galdino down by his Hawaiian shirt she’d gifted him. She could barely hide her excitement at seeing him in it for the first time, it fit him perfectly by hugging his body close and making him seem all much brighter with the birds and flowers printed on the fabric.

Falling down against the blanket with her, his hand seeks out Roseanne’s once again. As warm as the sand below them, he threads his fingers through hers. Taking in his surroundings with a deep breath, he breathes out. “It’s really… nice here.”

“It’s nice to be on a beach without being worried about being hunted down.” She giggles and buries her feet in the sand, happy to just soak up the sunny atmosphere.

“Oh don’t remind me.” Galdino rolls his eyes, not too fond of entertaining ideas of marines at the moment. “Isn’t this a vacation in which we should be having fun?”

She laughs again, voice sweet and airy. Sweeter than the coconuts hanging on trees above his head or the little fruity cocktails you’d drink on beaches like this. “Well we need to make it fun, don’t we?” Although a day of rest was appealing, the excitement of a day off sent energy flowing through her veins.

In the bag she had left Galdino to carry, she digs deep below layers of towels and hats to fish out a plastic bucket shaped like a castle. Marianne had left in the bottom of the bag long ago, her little paintings and drawings decorating the bright red bucket and leaving Roseanne without the heart to remove it from the bag. It was a cherished trinket and piqued Galdino’s attention at the familiar doodles.

“Have you ever made a sandcastle?” A simple question that she doubted her would say yes to. He raises an eyebrow, an answer in itself but he lays a hand flat. White candle wax drips from the open palm, swirling around and slowly building up a castle in his hand. It was barely bigger than his hand but had the tiniest details etched into the white surface. Roseanne couldn’t help it but gasp in amazement.

“Not quite a sandcastle but a castle.” He smiles proudly at his little creation, taking her hand in his and placing the little castle gently in her hand. The surface is already cool, the wax hardened and set in place. “But if you wish to make a sand castle I would be willing to try.”

Setting it off to the side, she shoots him a smile and motions him to the edge of the blanket. “It’s best to use wet sand, just digging down we can find some. It’ll make a solid base for us to use.” She gives her instructions, digging her hands into the hot sand and digging down. It feels like teaching Marianne all over again, a sing-song voice falling from her tongue while excitedly demonstrating.

Gladino finds a spot behind her, his chest pushed against her back, the Hawaiin shirt slightly parted and skin warm against hers. His hands cup over hers, digging into the sand with her and humming softly as they scooped the sand into the bucket. It fills up slowly, being topped off with a final scoop then patted down. 

“You have some sand on your face.” She giggles.

“Huh?”

“There’s sand on your face.” A much more sandy finger pokes at his cheek and his eyes go wide. She laughs again at the blot of sand left behind, his face turning red and making it all the more noticeable. She squats by him and takes the edge of her dress in her hand, wiping away at the little specks of sand.

“Your dress-” He breathes out, slightly panicked at possibly ruining her sundress.

“We’re on a beach, it would have happened no matter what I did!”

He holds the fabric in his hands, wiping away all of the specks of sand to clean up her dress. He was never one to like pretty things getting dirty, especially his beloved. “It's too pretty for me to just let you dirty it like that. We’ll clean it up later sweetheart.”

Rose stutters over her words, patting down her dress and fighting her rising blush. “We should finish up the castle!” She blurts out and picks up the bucket of sand. Galdino scurries back over and holds the bottom, fingers grazing against hers and help her flip it over. It hits the sandy ground with a whump and both thrumming with excitement, they shimmy the top off.

No cracks are left in the sandy walls of the castle, not a single blemish or missing piece of the castle. A beautiful structure created gently with love. Roseanne beams at the sight of the castle and Galdino mirrors her proud facade. It was perfect, more perfect than anything they’d ever made (and possibly greater than any sand castle Crocodile could possibly make).

But then Galdino’s face drops, a thought crossing the man’s mind. 

“What?”

Shuffling forward, he holds his hand above the castle and the white wax drips down onto one of the balconies made from sand. As slow as the dripping wax, two little figures begin to build up with the tiniest details sketched into them. Her breath catches in her throat when she recognizes the actual figures.

Two little figures of them stand happily atop their castle, little hearts stemming off of them. 

“There, finished.” He grins contently and presses a kiss to Roseanne’s face. “Thank you for showing me something so fun.”