#my Princess is always booked and busy he doesn’t have time to do anything else that’s why the other characters around him can’t be mad when

[tariah23]

Jumping into the lake rn-

[breannasfluff]

The absence of Four has Wild sticking even closer to Legend and Hyrule. He loves them dearly, but his instincts call for a flock.

Hyrule is perfectly happy to attach himself to Wild like an octorok. Prying him off becomes harder and harder. Legend and Wild end up sacrificing each other to escape. They don’t really need much. Wild’s got plenty of food and games in his slate and Wind brings meals from Malon. Sky doesn’t come again, probably wrapped up with Four.

“Can you tell me more about nesting?” Wild stares at his hand of cards without really seeing them.

“What do you want to know?” Legend plays one and Hyrule clicks his teeth.

“Anything? I don’t—well, I don’t remember. And I was so busy on my journey that I didn’t stay in one spot. I don’t think I remember anyone nesting?”

Legend nudges the traveler to go for his turn. “Probably not. Nesting means hunkering down somewhere safe and comfortable. Most passerines do it at home. Let’s see…well, we have Nesting season like the seabirds have Migration or the raptors have Hunting.”

Wild’s frown deepens. He’ll have to ask the flock about that later.

“It’s usually triggered by other birds and when we feel safe,” the bowerbird continues. “So, yeah, it makes sense you wouldn’t during your journey.”

“I nested with my Zelda,” Hyrule pipes up. “We aren’t a flock, but we trust each other.”

“Nesting in the castle? Nice.”

The thrasher’s laugh is mostly trill, melodic as always. “Honestly, I rather be in a loft like this than buried in mounds of lace and silks. She’s got the other Zelda now, so it’s not really a problem.”

Right, Hyrule’s adventure ended with two princesses instead of one.

“So nesting is triggered because I’m with you?” Wild asks.

“Probably. All passerines are a little different, depending on their instincts. Hyrule here,” a nudge, “wants his pair birds and no one else. Four is happy with anyone. What about you?”

“Ah…” Wild’s fiddles with his cards. They are no longer playing, caught up in conversation. “I’m more like Four…I guess? I’m fine with other birds in the nest. Obviously not the raptors but…” he trails off.

What does he want? What is he missing? What was nesting like for him Before? What about when this ends and he has to go home? Zelda isn’t a nesting bird, despite being social enough.

“Open-nest or closed-nest,” Legend says. “Anyway, sometimes it’s being around other flock birds, but usually it hits in the fall time. It gets colder and the days get longer. We want to tuck away somewhere warm.”

A question sits on the tip of his tongue, too embarrassing to ask. Legend can read him like an open book and nudges him. “Spit it out.”

“I don’t want—chicks. And it’s not springtime. So what’s the point…”

Hyrule breaks the silence with giggles that turn into a waterfall of chirps. Legend joins in, eyes dancing. There’s nothing malicious so Wild swats at them, wings fluffing.

“I’m sorry! It’s just—we aren’t actual birds!” Hyrule wheezes for air. “Sure, some instincts are similar, but we’re hylian, too.”

“By the Three,” Legends says. “Can you imagine what it would be like if we were real birds? No, thank you. Secondary instincts are bad enough.”

Wild’s ears are burning. “You don’t have to laugh that hard.”

“Nesting is about resting,” the bowerbird continues, taking pity on his flockmate. Hyrule still giggles, wiping at his eyes. “Like animals hibernating? It’s a built-in instinct to settle down and relax for a bit. Recharge and bond with your flock. Spend time with family.”

That…makes a lot more sense. 

Read the rest here!

[twinkleimagines]

*Let me please you *

You’re a virgin and Rafe wants to show you what it feels to have an orgasm without taking your virginity.

Warning ⚠️ smut and language

Not proofread

Rafe had always admired you. You guys were the same age, same schools but completely different clicks. your parents were rich yes, but you didn’t act anything like a kook. You were quiet, shy. Never once put a single bit of make up on.

You had a natural beauty that radiated off of you for miles. which was what first caught his eye. Rafe being the kook king though , so popular in the crowds, he never really gave you the time of day. yanno, reputation and all- not that you were seeking it out anyways.

You were definitely one of the girls that were considered nerdy. you spent most your time with your nose in your book or at home. you didn’t go to parties, you didn’t wear make up, you didn’t have a boyfriend and you really didn’t have friends. 

Believe it or not though Rafe had definitely noticed you multiple times throughout the years. You were one of those girls that when he looked at you, you just looked so innocent and pure which if we’re being honest that’s exactly what you were and something about that just had him hooked to you. You were always so distracted that you never even realized the Kook king Admiring you from afar.

But now it’s the summer after your senior year and Rafe himself couldn’t stay away from you. It all started one morning when you both ran into each other at a coffee shop where you accidentally spilled your drink on him.

And honestly if it were anyone else he would’ve flipped his shit, probably cuss you out and make a big scene but when he looked down to see you, you’re innocent big (y/c/e) eyes and your loose curls tucked behind your ear as you frantically apologized for ruining his shirt, something in him switched and all He wanted to do was just hug you and protect you from the world.

Which He had done that ever since. He spent a little while talking to you at the coffee shop and managed to get you outside of your comfort zone, only a few months later becoming official in a relationship. 

So now we are here today. At this point you and Rafe have been together almost 6 months now. You knew what type of guy he was but the way he was with you was like a whole different side of him and you had honestly fell in love with him. nobody realize how infatuated he really was with artistic stuff like you and how intelligent he really was when it came to business. It was always hidden behind his partying Ways and fighting that nobody really paid attention to him like you did.

 you laid with your back propped up against Rafes headboard with a book in your lap as you silently read through the pages when Rafe walked in, his eyes landing on you.

“What are you reading ?” he asked. you sighed before lifting the book up slightly so he could read the back not breaking your trance from the page. 

“Oh” he responded quietly before placing himself next to you in the bed. He sighed heavily as you felt his fingertips trail up your thigh, gently running up and down as he watched you intensely as your eyes scanned the words across each page. 

“You’re so beautiful” he spoke out grabbing your attention. You glanced at him through the corner of your eye before going back to your book replying with a soft ‘thank you’. Hey grinned before placing his lips against your arm that he once had his head laying on. you furrowed your eyebrows together as you tried to continue focusing on the story in you book, only having to go back over the same paragraph because you didn't pay attention the first time.

  you sat for a second trying to continue reading your book but at this point it was no use because of his actions and how much they were distracting you. You finally caved in and put your book down on the nightstand before turning to the side facing him, giving him a sly smile. He smiled at the invitation before he sat up and placed his lips against yours. they were soft and plum, the taste of peanuts from his snack earlier still lingering on his tongue. Your moaned softly against his lips as he pulled you closer to him by your hips. you felt his hand rolling closer to an area thats never been touched by him (or anyone) so you jumped slightly before pulling your lips away from his.

“im sorry” he quickly spoke out, pulling his hand away. “you okay?”

 Rafe knew that you were a virgin.  it was one of the things that he loved about you. It wasn’t a goal of his to take your virginity or anything but he did love the idea that he was going to get to be the one to show you all the pleasures and be your first with everything. He loved knowing how innocent and pure you were and it gave him all the more reason to be protective over you. 

“Yeah I’m okay” you responded pushing some of your hair behind your ear. 

He sat for a second looking at you. Even though his eyes were staring into yours, you could tell he was deep in thought.

“ I have an idea, if you’re up for it” he finally spoke out breaking the silence. you felt your heart flutter as you heard the words fall from his lips. your mind quickly began racing, thinking of all the possible things he would want to try at this moment, 

  you knew at one point in time Rafe would want to take things further. He defiantly had his fair share in women, and you were surprised he had lasted this long without trying to go further than just make out sessions with you. but by now you had fantasized on what it would be like to go further  with him as well. 

“ I know you want to save and wait on your virginity” he responded breaking your train of thought. “ but what if there’s other ways I can make you still feel good without going to that level?” he offered, his voice soft and gentle.

You bit your bottom lip with nervousness as his large but soft hand caressed your thigh, rubbing back and forth with comfort. The only thing you guys have ever done this whole time was kiss and grope each other. You’ve never even experience and orgasm. Not even by yourself. You sat and hesitated for a second, questioning yourself if you were ready to take things further.  you were almost 20 at this point and you were very happy with the Rafe, so much that you didn’t even see the possibility of you guys not being together. 

you finally nodded giving him approval. he smiled widely at you, satisfaction radiating through him knowing that he was finally going to be able to please you in some way . 

“What are you going to do?” you asked, your palms getting sweaty from nerves.  He shook his head before placing his hand on the side of your face, rubbing gently circles with his thumb.

“ I just want you to relax princess.”

Rafe placed his lips back against yours before hovering over you, causing you to lean back, your head landing on his pillow. .

he placed one of his legs in-between yours, Your eyes widening as you felt his knee press against you applying pressure. you moved your hips slightly, feeling your body crave for that feeling again.  You gasped slightly as you realized he had done it on purpose when his knee continued moving back-and-forth against you. Your mouth stood wide open as your eyes close feeling the movement from Rafe.

“does that feel good baby?” he questioned staring down at you as if if he was a painter and  you were his own painting.

You bit your lip before nodding slightly opening your eyes to make contact with his.

‘Here come here’ he said before removing himself from above you, propping himself up against the headboard. “Sit on my lap” he instructed. you hesitated for a second before obliging. He tugged on your pajama shorts pulling them against your heated core before pulling you up against his crotch by your hips. 

‘Just do like this princess” he insisted as he applied pressure against your bottom with his hand pulling you forward towards him. You grinded youirself against him until your hips were touching his before he pushed back against on you, making you slide back down. he watched your face for any type of expression before repeating the movements once again pulling you forward towards him. 

You felt uncomfortable at first, not so much that you weren’t enjoying it but just because you had never done anything like this before and you weren’t sure if you were making a fool of yourself or not. But the feeling you were getting felt so good that you didn’t want to stop regardless of how you looked so you continue moving your hips against him. At first your movements were slow- your hips grinding against his very prominent Boner in between your legs as you slid up and down it. 

 you mumbled a few ‘fuck’s and ‘God!’ out , as well as Rafe’s name as your thighs slightly trembling around him.. Rafe  Pulled your hair away from your face so he could watch you. your eyes squinted shut as your mouth gaped open, moans slipping out. It felt good to him as well even though he wasn't inside you, but just watching you unfold on top of him beat any orgasm he’s ever had. 

“feels good doesn’t it princess?” he groaned out as your movements against him began to speed up. 

“ yes Rafe” you moan out loudly. even though you took Rafe by surprise at your outburst, he almost came undone right then and there. He had never seen this side of you and it was the hottest thing he had ever seen. 

“ it feels so good”  you breathed out, your arms placed over his shoulders as your hands tugged on his hair.  your hips were moving faster faster before soon started to feel this tingly feeling and the bottom of your stomach. it was definitely an unfamiliar feeling but it felt so amazing and it gave you a feeling of you needed to keep going as your climax was building up.

Rafe could tell you were getting close as your moans became uncontrollably consistent, and your body rocking against his became fast and rough, which Rafe was to just as close just by the feeling of you dry humping him and the sight of you. 

“Oh my God I think I’m cumming!” you cried out as you felt your clit throbbing. this unexplainable feeling rushed through your lower abdomen causing your hips to jolt forward a few times as you rode out your high. your hips finally came to a halt as you tried to catch your breath.  you laid your forehead against rafes before chuckling slightly, almost lost for words as to what you had just done.

“ Wow” was all you could say causing Rafe to laugh loudly while nodding.

“ I know princess, you're amazing” he praised. you shifted slightly against him before looking up in confusion as you still felt a hard Boner pressed against you. 

“wait, did you finish?” you asked.

Rafe shook his head no and you sat for a second with confusion. After the way he had just made you feel, you wanted to repay him by getting him off as well, but with you being so unexperienced you honestly had no clue what to do for him. 

“well what can I do?” you finally asked, pushing your curls behind your ear once again, another little thing you did that turned him on.

“You don’t have to do anything princess I was doing this for you” he said shaking his head. “ I wanted you to feel good.” you grinned shyly lowering your hand as you thought back to a few moments ago when you practically dry humped your boyfriend to an orgasm.

“Well I did feel good and I want to repay you, if you’ll let me” you offered with pleading eyes.

He sat for a second, this time him being the one to think it through. of course he wanted you to do stuff to him, but he didn't want to make you feel pressured. the thought of you wanting to please him willingly made his dick jump in his jeans. he finally looked you in the eyes, a nod following shortly after. 

“only if you want to princess” he responded. he waited patiently for you to assure him that you really wanted to do this before he pulled his long hard member out of his pants.

Throughout the 6 months that you have been together, this was the first time you had actually seen it. Not that Rafe was hiding himself, but he just felt it was best for when you were actually ready. you have felt it of course but seeing that now, you were flabbergasted.

“You’re huge rafe” you blurted out with your eyes wide. He laughed at your cuteness from the outburst that had caused your cheeks to turn cherry red. “Come here” he spoke softly, his hand grabbing ahold of yours.

“ I’ll show you what you can do” he said before placing your hand around his member,  his hand helping guide yours along his cock

“. Does it feel good?” you asked, your eyes focused very intensely on his expressions, needing clarification since you hadn't a clue what to do.  Rafe nodded while leaning his head back some, his eyes lowering.

“ yes princess” he said, his voice soft and comforting. He’s had plenty of hand jobs before, but it was different when it was yours. He  just had so much love for you at this point. You were the first girl he had ever spent time with and was in a relationship with that didn't include sex, which made you bond even more. The love he had for you was like no other, and so was the feeling of your hand around him right now. 

You bit your lip as you continued to pump your hand around him, squeezing slightly and twisting your hands in circles. Even though you had never watched porn or you had never personally done any of this yourself, you had read a lot of books that would sometimes go in detail into their sex scenes. You tried basing it off of what you had read, and by reading Rafe’s face, it was clear he was enjoying it.

You ran your thumb over his tip causing him to twitching your hands leaving a smirk on your face as you watched his breath hitch in the back of his throat>

“You’re doing so good princess” he praised. you sat for a second as you hesitated your next move before finally just lowering your head, wrapping your lips around him.  at this point Rafe was in complete shock seeing you build the confidence to please him the way you were. You were doing so good even though you had no prior experience.

“ princess your mouth feels so good” he groaned out, his voice deep and low. Your moaned slightly as you felt his fingers run through your hair pushing down slightly.

You weren’t sure why you were so nervous before but now that you were actually doing it and watching how much you were pleasing Rafe turned you on more than you have ever been in your entire life and you didn’t want to stop.  you continue bobbing your head up and down, your hand following in the same motion as Rafe continued to moan and praise you for your actions.

"baby I’m gonna to cum”  he breathe out his hips slightly bucking up into your mouth hitting the back of your throat. you gagged slightly, your throat clenching aorund him.

“Fuck baby girl” he groaned out as his member started to twitch. you could feel him tugging on your hair trying to pull your head up but with all the confidence you had and the adrenaline, you kept your head lowered down on him. your lips were almost touching his pelvic bone, his tip deep in the back of your throat. you held your breath as you tried not to gag but the clenching from your throat immediately set Rafe’s orgasm off, his warm load shooting down the back of your throat. your eyes widened for a second as you tasted a thick warm salty substance fill in your mouth. Rafe bucked his hips in your mouth a few more times before his hips came to a complete stop. You lifted your head up slowly ,  your mind racing about what you had just done as Rafe watched you, making sure you were okay with what had just happened.

 his member immediately got hard again when you looked up at him through your eyelashes, slowly wiping the side of your mouth off from the saliva that was placed on the side of your lips.

“ God princess you’re just so perfect.” Rafe said. He stared at you and thought about all the other things he wanted to do to you. he wanted to taste you and feel himself inside you but it was much more satisfying to him knowing that you willingly wanted to do these things with him and he that didn’t force you to do anything. Knowing that you waited all these years and he got to be the one to finally let you experience it was the biggest flex he had on himself. It brought a warm feeling in his heart. 

“Did you like it?” he asked after he cleaned himself off placing his member back in his pants. You nodded before looking down with a shy smile as your cheeks turning cherry red.

“ I did I really did” you responded before laying yourself down next to him, placing your head on his chest.

“ maybe we can even do some more later tonight”  you offered causing a big grin to form across his face.

****

Maybe part 2???

✨feedback , like and reblog is greatly appreciated 💗✨



[gingerbreadmonsters]

mad or sublime

or: one woman, knowing no age or season.

gn!reader, no content warnings unless you count alexis herself, satisfyingly metaphorical angst with a heaping helping of unhinged yearning. my best shot at a soliloquy yet. a massive massive thank you to @ejunkiet, who unknowingly gave me a BRILLIANT idea with marked - we love a good love bite hehe 😈😈 my love letter to utter delusion. alexis burning alive under the spotlight in 3400 words or less.

inspired by love makes such fools of us all from the musical barnum. i strongly suggest you listen to it while you read, although you may want to loop it, as it isn’t very long.

series masterlist

It's no fun, being in love.

(It was supposed to be, but somehow it's not, anymore.)

Being in love isn’t something to be proud of. It's a curse, a bitter pill, with no promise of sweetness to come. It’s an endless joke, punchline after punchline, body blows raining down until the final KO. A poisoned blade that slots deep between the ribs, a wine stain on cream carpet, a savage beast that locks its teeth around its victim and doesn’t let go.

Don’t fall for it. It isn’t worth it. Love is a fool’s game, the pastime of idiots and masochists, who slide their hearts and minds across the table and have the gall to be surprised when they lose them forever.

Yes, that’s right. Idiots and masochists, the lot of them.

How lucky, then, that Alexis Solaire is both of those things.

She wasn’t always so stupid, you know. She’s actually quite intelligent when she wants to be, and she doesn’t make a habit of embarrassing herself. The eldest progeny of William Solaire does not disgrace her clan for anything, serious or trivial.

(...Ignore whatever Vincent told you. He’s full of shit and he knows it.)

It shouldn’t come as a surprise. Before William’s happy little accident, there had been a very long time where she was something special. The only child, the blessed daughter-progeny of the most powerful vampire king around - his confidant, his advisor, his trusted delegate and finest ambassador. For a very long time, it had just been the pair of them against the world, and the world had bowed its head before them.

She doesn’t like to tell people how old she is anymore, although nobody really knows why. To tell the truth, she’s not sure either. Maybe it’s protection, a shield of uncertainty that deflects prying eyes and causes gossiping voices to falter and fade. Maybe it’s vanity, the deliberate cultivation of ego and mystery that might not be deserved. Maybe it’s carelessness, the abandonment of the trappings of humanity that persist under the forbidden sun. Or maybe it’s not carelessness, but caring too much - the knowledge that speaking the impossible numbers into existence will make them true, and force the invisible years back into being. Is it possible to escape your own humanity? Blood is blood is blood, and Solaire blood is no different. Every vampire was human once, and it’s human blood that sustains them even after their human years come to an end. Wax cowers from the flame, and the numbers don’t get smaller.

Unfortunately, not all things can last forever, even for immortal beings. As the decades dragged on and the clan grew and grew, so too did the loneliness. Vampirism is, after all, a very lonely business. When eternity is stretching out in front of you, sometimes a clan isn’t enough. It’s all very well to have a family of sorts. It’s much nicer to have a lover of your own as well.

There have been many, over the years. None of them have ever lasted very long, for one reason or another, but that didn’t matter. Sometimes, you just have to let somebody else do the work - keep doing what you’re doing, and let providence meet you halfway. She had known, all along, that someone would come. A fairytale of her very own, the stuff that dreams would be made on, a lover who would stumble out of a story book and reach out to catch her, right out of the air like the princess that she was reborn to be.

Sam had been that lover.

He’s a good man, Sam Collins. He always has been. When she’d met him, he’d not long graduated DAMN, full of righteous passion, a young healer on an endless crusade. Young and good and raging against a world that seemed determined to grind him into dust. What better knight could a lonely princess ask for?

He had played his part admirably, too. Always the gentleman, upstanding to a fault, even if the nature of their relationship had been a little less… pure than he might have liked. And after a while, she had seen those feelings - at first so shallow and simple, the gratification of pleasure and the gratitude of ease - deepen, thicken, into something more. The actor becomes the role, and the method becomes the practice. He had come to know her, care about her, and it was his gentle, unwavering affection that had reassured her that this was all meant to be. He must have sensed it, the same as she had. The pieces falling slowly, inevitably, into place. The clicking of the love lock, the sealing of the kiss.

The horrible, damning crunch of the car hitting the driver’s side door.

It had been an awful night already. He’d asked her out to dinner, and she hadn’t realised that anything bad was going to happen - he’d done that a lot, you know. Taken her somewhere nice, chatted about the weather or the news or the past, before he’d even thought of taking her home. She’d thought he just hadn’t known how to say it, how to ask her on a proper date, so he’d just hoped she understood.

And she had, hadn’t she? She couldn’t have misunderstood. He couldn’t have been just - just pitying her, could he? He wouldn’t try to soften the blow like that. What blow was there to soften? Who could pity Alexis Solaire? What was there to feel sorry for? The beauty of the Solaire Clan, all elegant strength and hidden power. The fairytale princess of Dahlia, strolling through life with the easy gait of a woman who knows that fate is smiling upon her, laden with perfumes and jewels and crowns but no ring, not yet. Not yet, until Sam Collins. Sam Collins and his smile, and his kiss, and his perfect touch. Sam Collins and his foolish words, and his sad little goodbye, and his promise that this didn’t have to be difficult. Of course it had to be difficult. Don’t you know that providence always gets what it wants in the end?

There had been screaming, and not the good kind. There had been crying and wailing and protesting, and for the first time, the eldest progeny of William Solaire had disgraced the name of her clan. She had made a scene, a truly awful one, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care then, and she doesn’t care now. Sacrifices must be made when it comes to true love. Any princess worth her salt can tell you that.

You can’t fight fate. Fate comes back with a vengeful car door, slicing unremorsefully into your stomach, and gives your lover one last, everlasting chance.

She had felt bad. She has never felt guilty. Not for what she did. A world where Sam Collins exists is always better than a world where he does not. And if that happened to tie him to her, in a way that no other vampire could ever hope to match, not ever, then a few years of lingering resentment were a small price to pay. He’d figure it out eventually, and she would be there to welcome him back in with open arms. The vampire princess, finally finding her vampire prince. Something straight out of a storybook, or perhaps a dream.

The thing about dreams, you see, is that they sometimes become nightmares.

The awful night becomes a dreadful morning. She doesn’t want to think about it. The tarmac is awash with blood and rainwater, back there where the ruins of a much-loved truck lay abandoned by the road. William commands her to speak, and it is almost enough to tear her to pieces.

She looks down and watches numbly as it all spills out of her mouth and onto the floor, glorious disaster that she is, helpless to resist the words of her Maker. Oh, the irony. Alexis Solaire, all in white, gone to be married at the altar of her own self-righteousness. Laying herself down amidst the wreaths of flowers, shrouded in lace and tulle, a silver sixpence under her right heel and feeling oh so very blue.

The pill is bitter indeed, but the lesson sticks. The clan is what endures, and little vampire princesses have to understand that. Blood is blood is blood, and Solaire blood is no different. The shadow of a moonlit tiara hurries past the doorway, and the court is wracked with whispers. It's very easy, to be alone. All you have to do is save one man's life, the whole world will turn itself against you, and then you never have to worry about not being alone again.

Vincent’s the beautiful one now.

(Well, technically she’s still the beauty of the clan. Her face hasn’t changed at all. It’s just that there’s nobody left who’ll look at her long enough to notice. Except for William, but you’re not really supposed to choose a favourite child for things like this.)

She hasn’t disappeared, despite what some of the clan might prefer. Far from it, in fact - in the years since the… the accident, she hasn’t moved an inch. Nothing has swayed her, in heart or mind or soul, and nothing has distracted her. Still as a statue, and some would call that an apt comparison - unmoving eyes fixed eternally upon her prize, alabaster fangs guarding a heart of marble. Pay them no mind. Some things are worth waiting for. Alexis Solaire has always understood the value of constancy.

Sam Collins, it appears, has not. It almost seems like he doesn’t want to understand.

He doesn’t look at her, not anymore. He won’t. Any excuse to avoid her, any chance he gets to slip away, and he’s gone in an instant. She spends hours arranging and rearranging seating arrangements so he’ll sit across from her, drinks her own body weight in champagne waiting for him to ask her to dance. When will it stop? He can’t keep avoiding her forever - and, make no mistake, she does mean forever. There can’t possibly be room, in the heart of a good man, to hold a grudge like that. Forgiveness is divine, and Sam Collins has always been something more than just human. She ought to know. Isn’t there something to be said about royal blood and blessings from the heavens?

She can wait. He’ll see sense one of these days, and when he does she’ll be there. A stone tongue can’t taste bitterness.

That is, until that… wolf.

She doesn’t realise, at first, and that might be the bit that stings the most. His eyes begin to lighten, a little more every day. He starts to smile again, properly smile, cracks a joke or two with Vincent after a clan meeting. He spends more time at Wonderworld, makes polite small talk when he passes someone in the corridor. Even his progenies, for as much as they avoid her like the plague, giggle quietly about their father’s sudden change of heart. Finally, he finds his forgiveness. Finally, at the end of the tunnel, there is light.

The light gets brighter and brighter, almost close enough to touch. It’s almost here. He’s almost here. The clan meeting is finished. She reaches out her hand, licks her fangs, opens her crimson eyes as wide as they will go-

-and screams, stumbling backwards as the torturous sunlight falls upon her skin. Horrible, awful burns from fingernail to elbow, sunspots flashing and swirling until she’s rendered blind. She blinks as hard as she can, rubs her eyes desperately with the back of her other hand, but it’s not enough. She’s already seen.

Sam Collins, love of her eternal life, leaning against his truck in the arms of a shifter.

She’s forced to bite down a feral hiss, retreating into the forest around Wonderworld before either of them can notice her. Running full tilt through the trees she chokes on words that can’t be said, fangs bared in an involuntary snarl as she remembers the way his hands had rested so gently on their waist, how they had reached up to brush their thumb so tenderly across his lip. All that watching, all that waiting, and for what? Her candlelit vigil at last bears fruit, and she doesn’t realise until the last bite that the apple was poisoned all along. She has always wanted a storybook romance. Here, at last, is the big bad wolf.

She waits a little longer, black water running down her stone spine and pooling at her frozen feet, in the vain hope that it won’t last. That it’s nothing more than a passing fantasy, a rebound. What better choice? The Shaw Pack’s homegrown charity case, a stubborn and unlovable creature, doomed for destruction by their own stupidity. And that destruction is sure to come sooner rather than later, if the horror stories that surround Quinn are any indication. No loose ends, nobody left to ask questions. Well done, Sam Collins. She couldn’t have chosen better herself.

A week passes. Then two. Then they all come at once, until months and months have gone by and he shows no sign of stopping. A terrible, unending purgatory, and the worst part is that nobody else seems to care. Can’t they see what’s happening here? Is she the only one who knows the truth?

He’s slipping away from her.

It doesn’t make sense. Can’t he see what a lost cause this is? You shouldn’t love that which will be taken from you. You shouldn’t love that which brings ruin to your door and despair to your heart and disgrace to your clan. You shouldn’t love that which will wither and die in front of you, no matter how hard you try to fight it. As surely as the hated sun will rise in the east, all things come to an end. Only two things persist. The blood of the Solaire Clan, and the love of Alexis Solaire for Sam Collins.

And yet, somehow, despite everything, he doesn’t budge. Doesn’t take a single step towards her, doesn’t throw a single glance in her direction. The wolf comes back, again and again, and the knife twists just a little bit further every time. Before long, it seems like the whole clan, the godforsaken lot of them, is in love with this damned creature - even the two little ones, who seem to cling to their father’s skirts like baby bloodsuckers at every opportunity, who should know better than anyone how dangerous it is to throw your lot in against Quinn, are totally obsessed as well. They should all be ashamed, every single treacherous one of them. Alexis Solaire knows a fairytale villain when she sees one, and it’s only a matter of time before she finds herself an axe. She’s not afraid. She’ll be as big and as bad as it takes.

Big and bad as she may be, it doesn’t make it any easier. Day in and day out, she waits, and waits, and keeps waiting. Rainwater and stone, reaching up to find the tear tracks eroded into her cheeks. The thoughts don’t go away. Sulking by the stairs at the party, glass of champagne empty and brittle in one elegant hand. Elbows on the desk at the clan meeting, swinging her legs under the table as the minutes stretch out into years. And through it all, he never sees reason. He never sees her.

Vincent pulls her aside after the clan meeting, ushering his partner over to go and play with the little ones. He calls her an idiot, calls her a fool, tells her that she’s wasting her time. You have to give up on this, Alexis. You can’t win. All you’re doing is hurting yourself. But he’s wrong, isn’t he? Of course she can win. She always wins, in the end. And it might be a Pyrrhic victory, but it’ll be a victory nonetheless.

He throws up his hands and wanders off with a sigh. The music finishes with a flourish. She curtseys neatly to the audience, and retreats to the safety of the wings.

One day, when she holds Sam Collins in her arms again, this will all be worth it. All of this waiting, the watching from the sidelines. The pain of knowing her usurper’s face, of seeing her prince in the clutches of her most hated nemesis. Every stolen kiss, every secret smile, every bunch of flowers that he asks William for advice on - she sees them all. She always sees. Until her eyes bleed, until she could claw her own eyes out with seeing, until she’d do anything to make it stop. It’s the best thing in the world, to see him happy. It’s the worst thing in the world, to know it’s because of someone else.

Tearing through the trees, axe in hand, heading for grandmother’s house and seeing that the door is hanging off its hinges. Bitter pills for little idiot princesses. The lights flash and sparkle joyously overhead, and the casino floor is full of people. She reaches down her throat, pulls out a marble heart, and slides it across the table. The dice fall, and keep falling. There’s nobody there to catch them. She lays herself down in the dirt and screams aloud, clouds heavy in a black sky as the midnight sun bleaches her retinas to dust. Rainwater trickles off of alabaster fangs and puddles in her open mouth.

It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair.

A gorgeous disaster. That much is true. Suffering for her art, and her art is suffering. The very picture of a madwoman, perfectly insane with loving. It’s not fair. The performance becomes the method, and the routine is second nature. Nobody else dares to step upon her stage, the master of her painted world as she howls her grief to the back row, and Sam Collins gave his ticket to someone else.

It’s not fun, anymore. The game is a painful one, especially for someone who has only ever lost.

The weeks go by, as they so often do these days. Minute by minute, hour by hour, she waits. She is very good at that, by now. She brings no shame upon her clan, at least no more than she can help. The daughter-progeny bides her time, swinging her legs under her chair, and dreams of the world that will one day be hers. The dream does not meet her eyes when she sits across from him.

It all comes to a head on a clear April night. The clan meeting starts in half an hour, and she is waiting outside for William. The little ones run past her, studiously ignoring her as they race inside, and a familiar figure follows them.

Curse her vampire’s eyes. The moon is dim, but she sees it anyway, and knows at last that she is damned.

The dark, deliberate imprint of teeth, unmistakable. No ordinary love bite. A mate’s mark.

She turns and runs.

She runs and runs until the moon is low in the sky again, muscles screeching in protest as she pushes herself further and further away. Vicious branches tear at her skin, stinging cuts healing almost as fast as they appear, new ones taking their place. Blood rushes to her head, the world spinning as she fights on, and the taste is unbearably bitter. Dizzy with blood, dizzy with love, and the forest does not care for her axe at all. Nobody cares for anything about her at all. A shattered mind spirals into nightmares, and the clan meeting continues. She is not missed.

It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair.

The princess of the Solaire Clan goes to be married. Limping down the aisle, a rusting crown atop her head, a smear of silver under her heel, sobbing into a rotting bouquet. Legs giving out, sinking to the floor in a heap of crumbling silk, cheek pressed to the freezing tile as she looks up and watches her undead groom, as bright as the sun as he takes his mate into his arms and smiles into their kiss.

It's no fun, being in love.

Just ask Alexis Solaire. She'll tell you all about it.

this is an original work by @gingerbreadmonsters - please do not repost or misattribute

series masterlist

main masterlist

[luveline]

summer shower [Fred Weasley x reader]

Summary: Fred makes your asthma play up.

Tags: reader-insert, fluff, friends-to-lovers, pining, mutual pining

word count: 1.3k

When you were just turning 21 years old, you met a boy. He was in his third year to your second of university, funny as could be, and beautiful.

Fred Weasley was a man of many secrets, which you'd come to accept the longer you'd known him. You had no idea where he was from, where his parents lived, or even if he had any family. You didn't know where he'd gone to school before this. You certainly didn't know why he liked pumpkin pie so much!

There were many things you did know.

His eyes turned from brown to almost black in the sun, superheated and lovely. He squinted one eye against the sun when you lounged in the courtyards in an endearing attempt to always keep an eye on your face. He never crushed flowers when he walked and he always trapped spiders in a cup with a piece of card instead of killing them, seeming endlessly bemused at the small creatures.

It was a warm summers day. You were trying your hardest not to smile as he lay in the grass. Your friends had all departed, claiming headaches and essays that needed to be submitted, though you thought these were all just white lies to allow you some alone time.

It didn't matter. No amount of free time would finish the game between the two of you. Well, you hoped it was a game: Fred pretended he didn't fancy you and you pretended you didn't fancy him.

You shared a tenderness with him that was unlike any relationship in your life.

He was smirking up at you.

"What?" You asked, pouting playfully.

"You look like you're trying to solve world hunger," he said through a grin.

You shook your head, fixing your gaze back down on the book in your lap.

"Maybe one day," you said without looking up.

Fred laughed. It was a perfect laugh, infectious and happy. You smiled despite your best efforts not to.

The pages were thin between your fingers, almost a thousand condensed into a 3 inch textbook for your course. The tip of your pencil rested against the page, though sometimes it felt appropriate to bring it to your mouth, contemplative. Fred watched silently as you underlined and questioned the subject, only quirkiness an eyebrow as your frustration became obvious.

"I don't understand," you admitted finally, "how that is relevant to anything. Look at this!"

You poked your pencil angrily at the figure in question. Fred's eyebrows creased as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

"Doll, you know I don't understand a lick of it."

You sighed, closing the textbook mournfully. It didn't surprise you that Fred couldn't understand, you couldn't understand and you were actually taking the course for the last two and a half years. He was doing a completely different subject.

You threw yourself down flat, much too close to where Fred himself lay on the grass, knocking the air out of your lungs. You tried not to get too wound up, worried any agitation would cause a flare up.

You'd had a very bad asthma attack only a few days ago and had spent a day or two feeling very fragile and sorry for yourself. You didn't want a repeat.

The grass was cold and a little damp from the early morning dew.

You nibbled at your lip, searching the sky for something it couldn't give.

Fred was watching you.

"Oh my god! What do you want, you hooligan?"

Fred rolled his eyes. "You looked at me."

"You were looking at me!"

"Doesn't sound true. Falsehoods of such a nature are unkindly and uncouth."

"You're uncouth!"

"Yeah?" Fred asked, eyes hot.

Your mouth dried up. He was especially tempting like this, looking all homegrown and hand spun. His hair was lightened by the sun cover, strawberry blonde against his tanned and freckled face. Tanned now only after months of suffering sun burn miserably.

"I know what you're thinking." He said. You paid close attention to his mouth.

"Which is?"

"How did I get to be so devilishly handsome? Honestly, it's a question I ask myself often."

You withheld the urge to turn your face into the earth and scream.

He wasn't entirely wrong. You had been thinking about his good looks.

"How did you know?" You asked. You'd tried for bravado, for sarcasm, but it came out wrong. A little too sincere. You cleared your throat.

Fred pushed up onto an elbow so that he was looking down into your face. He studied the slope of your nose and the laugh lines you'd slowly gathered since meeting him. He reached forward, too slowly, to place the pads of his fingers gently on your cheek. You could pinpoint the exact moment he rested his palm on your skin.

He smiled gently. You beamed.

"Can I ask you something?"

You tried to read his face, preemptively guess the question.

"When do you ask my permission?"

"It's the kind of thing that requires two consenting parties."

Your mouth quirked into a waiting grin. Fred's ears grew red.

"Not that."

"Fred Weasley, embarassed. Somebody call the news."

He didn't answer, pushing the hair out of your face in a repetitive motion that sent tingles down your spine and a hot flush to your tummy.

You tried not to read into it, closing your eyes against the waves of excitement and happiness roiling through you. You didn't permit yourself to think of what it meant, because what else could it mean? Friends don't do the things you both did. Friends didn't gaze down into your face with unspoken feelings.

You lay there for some time, the excitement slowly turning to bone deep contentment, feeling yourself drift into an almost sleep. The breeze was soft and sweet, the ground beneath you cushioned by grass, and the handsome man hovering above you only sweetened the deal.

"Y/N?"

"Hmm," you said, tilting your chin to prompt him to continue.

"Will you look at me a second?

You opened your eyes obligingly.

"I wanted to ask you, do you -"

He cut himself off, peering up into the sky. You frowned, only to feel the unwelcome spatter of heavy sudden rain drops on your face.

You gasped, rushing to collect all of your things into your bag. Your textbook was already dampening by the time you'd fit it all. Fred pulled you up and began to run. You followed, laughing and struggling to be heard over the summer shower.

By the time you reached his dorm building, both of you were breathing hard. Fred said something through a laugh. You struggled to answer, hands on your knees.

"Y/N?"

Despite having asthma all your life and suffering many attacks, each time felt just as urgent and scary as the first.

Your eyes filled with tears.

"You're okay! You're okay. Where's your pump, huh? In your bag?"

He didn't wait for an answer, reaching into your bag as you gasped, though insistent on leaving one arm on your arm. The pressure was reassuring.

You tried to manage your breathing as you always did, gasping and gasping and gasping.

"Here, princess. Open up," Fred said.

You covered the hand he held your inhaler with your own, clamping down on his hand so hard you could feel the fine bones under his skin.

It took a while for you to settle down, thought this attack wasn't anywhere as bad as the one you'd had days ago.

"My hero," you coughed out, lungs aching.

Fred grimaced. "I'll always rescue you, my femme fatale."

"Misogynist."

"You have paper lungs, my love."

"That I do, Freddie. That I do."

Fred rubbed your back, insisting on carrying you up the steps to his dorm room. If you acted much more frail than you felt, it was nobodies business but yours and Fred's.

[yesimwriting]

The Promise of Rain

A/n finally writing that Kaz Brekker x reader angsty-fluff where the reader is all sunshine-y and Kaz is dramatic as always lol 

Might make this a blurb series bc i like this dynamic so much lol

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x sunshine-y reader 

Summary: After a mission gone wrong, Kaz has a conversation with the reader (who’s a runaway princess) about what happens to people who stay near him. 

-- 

He once said that he didn’t believe in Saints. A moment later he conceded that perhaps they existed in order to appease Inej, but he was quick to tact on that if Saints existed they didn’t care about him. Inej and I had exchanged a look, she pleaded with me in silence to let him be. I opened my mouth despite the look in her eyes, but he had walked away before I could get any words out. 

He believes that the Saints don’t care about him, but as soon as he was dragged in by Jesper, bleeding and more broken than usual, it had started to rain. The rain is a promise. The rain is a sign that he will wake up. 

I tap a finger against the forgotten book on my lap, ignoring the dried blood I’ve been too anxious to wash off. When Kaz wakes up he’ll either scold me or partially tease me for waiting here by his bedside. The rain continues, cascading down invisible hope. 

“Save your prayers, even for you the Saints won’t regard me.” Kaz. His voice is raspier than it should be and his slight condescension is blighted by the tired flatness of it. But it’s him. He’s speaking. 

I tear my gaze away from the window, almost forgetting to tamper down my relief before finally looking at him. I haven’t known him long enough to see him in any level of defeat, but I’ve heard enough stories. The fictional exaggeration of those that fear him have made him seem so immortal. Some part of me must have internalized that because to see him like this, to see him so human is too intimate. 

“Don’t be so narcissistic.” Something about Kaz always leaves me feeling challenged, like each comment is some kind of dare. I adjust my posture. “I wasn’t praying because I knew you’d be okay.” 

His expression is unchanging. “So much faith in me?” 

There’s a soft edge to his words, an attempt to twist some kind of awkward denial out of me. Some days I don’t think Kaz enjoys anything and then other days I think he enjoys any misstep in my words. 

I shrug, pushing down the flood of relief still attempting to crawl out of my chest. “You’re always okay.” I scratch the back of my wrist idly. “It seems the safe bet.” 

“Don’t tell me you’ve been taking gambling advice from Jesper.” 

I half roll my eyes. “No--Jesper and I don’t play together anymore.” I let out an easy sigh. “Last time I beat him he bordered on a hissy fit.” There’s the slightest hint of upturning at the corners of his lips. “I should go tell Jesper and Inej you’re awake.” 

“I think you should change out of that dress first.”

He was more likable when I thought he might die at any second. “Wow--Kaz Brekker the professional stylist.” He has no right to judge the formal gown I’m in. Yes, my outfit is ridiculous, but I’m only wearing it because the Crows needed someone they knew at a merchant’s party for a part of some scheme they wouldn’t share the details of with me. “Yes, I’m aware that this dress is more tulle than anything else, but I’m only wearing it because I was helping you.” 

I wait for some retort about how he could have managed without my assistance or some kind of comment about how I didn’t need such a large dress to flirt and distract the guards as the Crows snuck into the merchant’s private office. “You fit in there more than you said you would.” 

From anyone else, I’d consider this an insult. “I was making an effort for the sake of your plans.” 

“I saw you before I went into the office, you knew the dances, the man took your hand.” 

That’s the weirdest observation I’ve ever witnessed someone reflect on. “That’s how those dances tend to work.” I don’t hide the confusion in my expression. “How much blood did you lose?” 

Kaz’s piercing gaze drops to the blanket on his lap. “Not a concerning amount.”

“Why do I feel like we have different definitions of ‘concerning’?” 

His eyes flit upwards, a partial smirk playing at his lips. “We define a lot of things differently.” He pauses, “You defined the life you slipped into so easily tonight as something you could never do.” 

“I can’t.” What is his problem? “One dance is different than an eternity of planning teas and marrying some man who only keeps me so I can rear his children.” 

“You’d end up marrying someone who could give you things.”

He better not be implying I should be having children. I’m seriously starting to hope he did lose a significant amount of blood because that would be some kind of explanation. “I don’t want anyone to be giving me children right now, but I guess your concern is ni--”

“No, no,” he screws his eyes shut for a long second, “You know what I meant.” I stay silent. “You’re technically a princess, y/n, you could have more than the Barrel.” There’s an odd silence as he pauses. “Someone like you should have more than the Barrel.” 

He speaks like his word is law. That’s the one habit of his I can never seem to forgive. Is Kaz telling me to go home? To go back to a mother who dreams of marrying me off and a father with a temper that often leads to violence? He may be Dirtyhands, but he is no one to tell me who to go back to. Not after I risked my anonymity to get him into that merchant’s office. 

I shut my book and stand in one swift motion. “I’m going to tell Jesper and Inej that you’re awake.”

“Y/n.” I ignore him. “Y/n.” Again, I ignore him, approaching the doorway. The rustling of sheets leaves me frozen, hand on the doorknob. “Y/n.” 

Without thinking, I turn on my heels while glaring. There’s no way he’s proud enough to have climbed out of bed wi--and he’s standing. Standing almost directly behind me. 

“Kaz Brekker, I am going to say this one time and one time only.” I keep my words measured and my tone flat. No room for argument. “You just had nine stitches put in near your heart, get your ass back in bed before that is no longer your only injury.” 

He pauses, lips pressed together into a tight white line. And then his mouth opens, pried open by an oddly light sound. Did he just--Did Kaz Brekker just laugh? He doesn’t laugh. I didn’t think he was physically capable, and now he laughs while I’m threatening him? I should hit him on principle alone and damn the consequences. 

“Did you--” I’m gaping at him with a rage I am not accustomed to. “Did you just laugh?” 

Kaz is quick to shut his mouth. “You did swear you’d get me to laugh one day.” 

Saints--now he chooses to have some kind of sense of humor. “Not while I was threatening you for being an idiot after saying my lineage means that I’m meant to be trapped in the life I desire least.” 

“I didn’t say that.” I raise an eyebrow. “You don’t deserve more than this because of your family, you deserve more than this because--” He cuts himself off with a sharp sigh. “Do you remember what happened the day we met?” 

He had wanted to return me to my father for the money. I had managed to convince him I could be more useful working for him without profit. The first day had been tense, I had sworn to myself that I would hate him forever. 

“I remember really hating you.” I remember thinking him beautiful despite his darkness. “I remember it started raining on our way here.” 

“You had a hood, but you pushed it off your head to feel the rain.” I don’t remember that because indulging in the rain is instinctual to me. “You looked at the rain, and you smiled--and then you saw a woman with a child and you took off your hood and gave it to them.” 

“What does that have to d--” 

“Watching that felt like intruding on an intimate moment I had no business knowing about, but it wasn’t that to you. That moment was nothing to you because that moment was who you are.” 

I don’t understand what he sees in something I can barely remember. “Kaz, what does that have to do with anything?” 

“I’m the monster that children believe live under their beds, I’m the bastard of the Barrel, I’m someone who gets blood on everything near them.” His gaze is harsher than I’ve ever seen it as he focuses on the dried blood splotched across my hands and arms. “And then I can’t even help you wash it off.” 

Those last words are the closest to broken I’ve ever heard him sound. “Kaz--”

“And you’re the girl who looks at the rain like it’s a gift from the Saints.” 

Is he implying what I think he’s implying? Even if I believed him such a source of evil, even if I felt like touch mattered that much--why would he care? I keep the much more frightening implication at bay as I exhale. Clarity will only make this conversation worse. “That doesn’t matter.” The words leave me in a low whisper. 

I stare at the ground until his silence is something I can no longer bear. Looking up as cautiously as possible, I take in his expression. I’ve never seen him look so--so enraged. “It doesn’t matter?!” He doesn’t bother hiding the fact that he’s practically seething. “I’ve viewed your presence here as temporary since you first came and despite that, when I saw you there…” The breath he lets out is practically pained. “When I saw what your life is meant to be--I didn’t want you to go.” 

The admission breaks something hard in my chest. “I never wanted to go.” My eyeline drops to the ground. “I didn’t want to go when you were trying to make me, I didn’t want to go when it was only for that evening.” I swallow a lump of emotion restricting my throat. “When you were bleeding out and Jesper had to carry you back here I let myself imagine what it’d be like if you died. And it hurt. It hurt so badly I asked myself if I would rather never know you than feel that pain.” 

“Would you?” His voice has gone hollow. 

I finally look up again. “No.” That word leaves me more bare than any physical touch ever could. 

“I stain everything that stays with me,” his voice has seamlessly shifted back to a tone meant for business, “Me wanting you to stay is more than enough reason for you to leave.”

My chest aches as emotions I’ll never be able to place a name to pound against my chest. “I’m a princess that ran away from her family and tried to befriend her kidnapper--you can’t possibly be narcissistic enough to believe that you’re what’s corrupted me.” 

“Y/n,” his voice is gravely again, the way it was when he first woke up. 

“No. What could you possibly think I’d say to that?” He’s insane--I’m not even sure I understand what he’s implying. “You know I’ll never agree with what you’re saying, so I have no idea what kind of reaction you’re looking for.”

“Maybe a genuine one.” 

The comment is so frustrating I can’t help but roll my eyes. The irony of Kaz Brekker asking for a genuine reaction to an emotionally heavy comment is almost laughable. “My genuine reaction is that you’re acting like an idiot because I don’t agree with anything you’re saying, but calling someone an idiot after they’ve been stabbed in the chest is a little insensitive so I can’t give you my genuine reaction.”

Kaz half-scoffs, “You don’t agree? Y/n--are you hearing me!? I want--I want you to stay.” Even angry, the admission warms me. He lets out a frustrated sigh. “More than that I want--” 

“What?” 

He shakes his head once. “I want something that can never be because I can’t give what needs to be given to get it.” 

“Kaz, if it involves me staying you don’t need to give anything for that because I don’t want to go.” 

“I-want-you-to-stay-with-me.” The admission is pried from him by some invisible force. He speaks so fiercely the sentence comes out as one angry word. 

He speaks so quickly a part of me is convinced that I misheard him. I watch him as he moves back to the bed, sitting down in a way so resigned I wonder if I blurted something out on instinct. 

“Kaz,” this is embarrassing, “I wanted to stay with you even when I wanted to hate you.”

I take in his measured expression, the only thing implying any kind of reaction is the way his eyebrows draw together. “Don’t say that, you don’t understand what that means.” 

“Why? Because you’re convinced you’ll ruin me?” 

“Y/n, we’d be together with a wall between us, keeping us from ever touching.” 

“I will tolerate any amount of damage you’re so convinced staying with you will bring, I will stay with you and never touch you and think nothing of it--but I will not stay with you just to stand in front of a wall.” I let out a tired breath. “I will stay with you but my one condition will be that you have to let me know you.” 

Kaz’s intense gaze wavers. “The first thing you’ll know is that me allowing you to stay is a testament to my greed.” 

I give him a sharp look, “It’s not greed if I want to be here.” 

He half sighs, leaning against a pillow as he turns to look out the window. “It’s raining,” he muses, “The Saints must have done that for you.” 

The sentiment is so soft my heart feels like it’s constricting. “I thought you didn’t believe in the Saints.” 

“If they exist, they do so for people like you.” 

I push past the emotion in my chest as I move to sit in the same chair I was in earlier. “I was honest when I said I didn’t pray for you.” I scratch the back of my arm, a coldness passing over me. “I didn’t pray because I knew you would be okay because you had to be.” 

“They wouldn’t have saved me,” he mumbles, “Or maybe they would have for you.” 

I shake my head once, staring at the rain with more fascination than before. 

--

General Taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7 @lonelystarship

[paradisoperdita]

I have a little weird habit, but I do it with my favorite writers here on Tumblr to try to cheer them up. Satan and Belphie turned into children because one of Mammon's schemes went awry and now MC can't help but pamper the Anti-Lucifer club who seize the chance to monopolize MC's attention by pissing off Lucifer in new ways. Bonus: Getting revenge on Mammon for putting them in this situation and causing a lot of jealousy.

F-favourite...? 🥰 You're totally right that it has cheered me up! Sorry for leaving this for a couple of days, today was my last day at my job so it's been pretty busy!

Adding to this, I can totally see how this would play out. The Anti-Lucifer League would be the worst kind of children.

MC decides to babysit the two children (because Satan and Belphie will have a tantrum if it was anyone else, and nobody wants an angry Satan). MC wants to teach them how to make paper aeroplanes and origami and asks Satan to grab some paper. He comes back with a huge pile and it makes the best paper aeroplanes. Cue a full-on paper aeroplane tournament: even Beel, Mammon, Asmo and Levi get in on it. It’s all fun and games until Lucifer comes home to find the living room full of aeroplanes. He. Is. LIVID. Turns out Satan deliberately picked up Lucifer’s expensive letterhead paper from his office.

As an apology, Satan and Beel make princess poison apples for Lucifer. When Beel’s back is turned, Satan 'accidentally' chooses all the rotten apples to coat in the purple syrup. MC goes with Satan to deliver them to Lucifer, who graciously accepts the apology from his adorable brother. He takes a big bite of the mouldy apple and looks at the sweet sparkling green eyes gazing up at him. MC is waiting expectantly for Lucifer to accept Satan’s apology. Lucifer has to stop himself from gagging as he thanks Satan for all the trouble he’s gone to. As a gesture of goodwill, he will gift the remaining apples to Satan. Serves him right.

Satan would choose the biggest, fattest book for his ‘bedtime’ story for MC to read to him. Mammon comes into Satan's room looking for MC. He wants them to come with him to a modelling gig after party because he just so happens to have a plus one. It would be a shame to waste it, y'know?

Mammon: well, when you've finished readin' the lil' squirt a bedtime story, we can go. Not that I wanna go on a date with ya, or anything!

MC: Oh sorry, Mammon. I've only just finished chapter 5

Mammon: How many chapters 'till the end?

MC: Um...38?

Whilst Satan is trying to torment Lucifer, Belphie is busy annoying the others by monopolising MC’s time. He’s already considered the most adorable brother, and uses it to great effect, so with the added childish charm it's impossible for MC to resist. He’s always napping in MC’s arms. He’s like a cat, if MC is sitting somewhere then he will sleep on them. And like the law of cats, you can’t move a sleeping Belphie. If you do, he will cry. It doesn’t matter who it is, whenever anybody other than MC tries to carry him he will break your heart with his tearful display.

Belphie develops a habit of teaching MC things between naps. He tries to explain in child logic how the Devildom governmental system works. He keeps referring to Diavolo as ‘Didi’ because it’s easier to say, making Lucifer wince every time. MC is very supportive and encourages Belphie to carry on.

Belphie: ...and then Didi would cut off the heads of the mean demons and feed them to Cerbur-...Cerbewuss

Lucifer: That’s not how th—....

MC: Sshh!! You’re doing great, Sweetie.

Lucifer’s hair is noticeably greyer when they both return to normal.

[chrisevansjellybeans]

Undercover- Mob! Steve Rogers Part 2

Okay here is the highly requested part two to my Mob! Steve post! I had some technical difficulties posting it but hopefully you guys see it in the tags now :)

Warnings: swearing and smut

Word count: 2.8k

“When I said go undercover, I didn’t mean under his covers, Agent.” Director Fury slammed his hand down on his desk. It had now officially been twenty-four hours since your encounter with the mob boss and you had been waiting anxiously all day to talk with Nick Fury. The rumor around the office all day was that he wasn’t too pleased with how things went down.

“I did what I had to do, sir.” You stated boldly.

Fury scoffed but didn’t respond.

He was quiet for a moment, his eye scanning over the piece of paper in his hand. You fidgeted uncomfortably as your legs were still sore from your romp last night and you tried to hold it together as Fury gave you a weird look.

“Just sit down, Y/N.”

You muttered a thank you as you took a seat.

“Listen, this is all good and fine but I want more. This,” He waved the note in his hand. “Is just a drug felony. I want this bastard put away for life.”

“But what about Stark?”

“A slippery politician, nothing more. I want insight on just more than this. I want it all.”

You sat back in the chair. You understood where he was coming from, but he was also acting like you hadn’t just uncovered a huge piece of information.

“Sir-”

“Which is why you’re going to continue...seeing Rogers. Your undercover assignment has just been extended until further notice.”

“But, sir!” You stood up in protest.

“But nothing, Agent. You’ve made your bed and you’ve already lied in it. Now do it again.” He snapped.

“Are you pimping me out, sir?”

“You did that yourself, Y/N.” Fury snarked. “Anyway, as we speak I have other agents creating an entire new identity for you on the internet so when Roger’s does eventually look you up he’ll find everything we want him to find.”

You felt yourself sinking back down into the chair. He was being completely serious. You suddenly felt very hot as you processed all the information coming at you.

“And what exactly is it going to say?”

“That you are Y/N Monroe. You are the same age as you are now and a barista at the coffee shop just below your apartment. You went to the University of Minnesota and graduated with a business degree, but currently can’t find any jobs. Pity. Your parents died when you were young and you have no siblings-no need to wrap anyone else up in this. We’ve made an Instagram account since that seems to be the most popular app among adults your age. I pushed for no socials but apparently it’s weirder if you don’t have one.”

“Okay...but I don’t have a coffee shop below my apartment.”

“You do now. Your stuff is being moved into a safe house apartment on the other side of town. That’s where you’ll be staying for now. Don’t worry, I have Parker holed up in the apartment two doors down.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to try to calm down. There was nothing else you could do. Fury was right, you had made your bed. You reached over and grabbed the file that Fury had pushed towards the front of the desk. Your new life all put together in a Manila folder.

Damn you, Ma and your slutty advice.

“You can go now.” Fury waved you away, now totally focused on whatever file he had in front of him. You hesitated, wanting to say something but nothing came so you left.

“Y/N!” Peter ran up beside you as you stormed down the hallway. “Heard we’re gonna be neighbors.”

You smiled at how excited he was. “It’s only temporary, Parker. Don’t wet your pants.”

Peter blushed and gently shoved you to the side as you both continued walking. “I know that. But doesn’t mean it won’t be fun. We could have movie nights or something.”

“I suppose we could find some time.” You nudged him back.

“Oh here, before I forget.” Peter shoved a brand new iPhone into your hand. “Fury had me add some tweaks to the geo location so it’s more precise than what Apple has. My burner number is already programmed in there too.”

You studied the burner phone, impressed that they didn’t just give you another shitty tracfone like you were used to.

“Thanks, kid.”

“I’m not that much younger than you.” Peter grumbled as the two of you finally made it to the parking structure.

You smirked over your shoulder as you walked up to your Jeep Wrangler. “Young enough. ‘Night, kid!”

Peter flipped you off but was smiling the whole time as you drove off.

You punched in your new address in the GPS and followed along as it brought you to the older part of town. You had always loved this part of the city but never thought to move out here. Even though it wasn’t the new upcoming neighborhood, the rent prices had been driven up by the young kids moving in who just “adored the old time aesthetic” and the lofted buildings.

Your building was one of those you noted as you parked your car outside of your new address. The old brick building was tall, maybe six stories and had fire escapes littered across the front of it. The front door was a rusted green that you had to yank to budge to get open.

Extra security, I suppose. You laughed to yourself.

Your apartment was on the third floor and right off the freight elevator. You weren’t expecting much when you opened the door but you made a noise of pleasant surprise when you did.

The inside was warm and inviting. A plush gray sofa that resembled a cloud was center in your living room that you saw right away from the small entry hallway. As you stepped in further you saw a decent size tv mounted against the wall and two bookshelves on either side of it, filled with books and records that went along with the record player that was right underneath the television. To the left the living room was the kitchen. Nothing big, which you didn’t mind-you weren’t the best cook in the world. There was a small bar-like counter that had two barstools perched underneath. Down the small hallway you found your bedroom. A king sized bed covered in an off white comforter set with matching sheets. Small potted plants hung from the corner near the window and an array of makeup and perfumes littered the top of the wooden dresser.

Tentatively you opened the dressers to find a whole new wardrobe waiting for you. There were basics: such as t-shirts, jeans, bras and panties but there was also a whole drawer dedicated to skimpy lingerie that you knew was expensive. The walk-in closet was filled with dresses, some formal and some you wouldn’t let your grandmother even see hanging off the rack.

“Well done, Fury.” You mumbled to yourself as your fingers ran down the silk fabric of a long evening gown.

You were settling on to your couch, sweats on and a glass of wine in your hand when you heard a knock on the door. Slowly you got up, grabbing your gun from the plant next to the door. You looked through the peephole and let out a curse when you saw none other than Steve Rogers standing outside your apartment.

You shoved the gun back into the plant and ran your fingers through your hair before opening the door, but leaving the chain attached.

“Mr. Rogers, how can I help you?” Your eyes twinkled as the man in front of you rested his arm on the top of the door frame and leaned close to the opening you had created.

“You said I would see you soon, princess. Looks like soon is now.” The nickname again caused your stomach to flutter.

“I was just getting ready for bed. You’ll have to come by another time.” You feigned a yawn. Steve’s eyes blared as he stood up straight.

“It’s rude to keep your guests waiting, Miss Monroe.” Your heart jumped at the use of your alias. Thank god your team worked fast.

“And it’s rude to show up to people’s apartments unannounced, Mr. Rogers.”

“Open the door, sweetheart.” He hissed, but his eyes held anything but anger. He was intrigued. He never found a woman before who wasn’t afraid to dish back his sass. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.

“Say please.” You teased through the opening.

“Please.” He said through gritted teeth.

Chuckling you closed the door gently and undid the chain. Before you could reopen it though, Steve pushed his way through scooping you up in his arms as he did. You naturally wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms held tight around him as you squealed against his neck.

He walked you back into the living room and plopped down on the couch, holding you so you were still straddling him.

You pulled away but kept your arms hanging loosely around him. He smirked up at you as his fingers toyed with the hem of the tank top you had on. His eyes fell to the wine that was only half drank on your coffee table.

“Heading off to bed soon, huh?”

“My bedtime snack.”

There was a part of your brain that recognized him for who he was: evil. But another part of your brain saw him as the man who made your body feel things that it had never felt before and that had your heart racing like a schoolgirl with a crush. The part that recognized that he was so easy to talk and joke with. The great sex wasn’t a bummer either.

His smirk was replaced by a genuine smile as he pulled you down and gave you a kiss that had your toes curling. He moaned into your mouth as you slowly ground your hips against his, your fingers tugging at the hair by his neck. His tongue massaged yours, letting you know exactly who was in charge at this moment. His hands ran underneath your tank top, fingers tracing up your spine before reaching the front and giving your nipples a slight twist.

He moved his mouth from yours and peppered kisses along the side of your neck as he lifted the tank top over your head. He threw it to the side as his mouth attached to your protruding bud while his fingers pinched and toyed with the other one. Skillfully, and with his mouth still attached to you, Steve flipped you over so your back was on the couch and he was on top of you. He lifted his head, his blue eyes clouded with lust as he started kissing down from the center of your chest, down your stomach and down your legs as he pulled your sweats along with him.

He hummed as he spread your bottom lips apart with his fingers, licking a stripe from your hole to your clit. You wiggled your hips against his face but he responded with a smack against your core.

“Honey, you gotta learn who’s in charge here and who’s-“ he kissed your clit ever so slightly, teasing you. “Just a little cock slut.”

His tongue circled over your bundle of nerves while fingers toyed with your slick. Gently he pushed two fingers into your pussy. Your eyes fluttered closed as his steady rhythm and flick of his tongue brought your orgasm to the forefront.

“Shit, Steve…” you whimpered, gripping his hair and pulling him close. “Oh fuck, I’m close!”

“Let me taste you, princess.” Steve growled. You nearly lost it at the sigh of your juices dripping from his chin. “Give it to me like the good girl you are.”

“Oh god!” You called out as he hit that spongy spot that caused your thighs to tighten around his head. Your body spasmed as it rode out your orgasm. Your chest heaving and your legs shaking as he slowly pulled his fingers from you. A moan was caught in your throat as you watched him put his soaked fingers between his lips, a look of pure satisfaction covering his perfect face.

Steve leaned his body over yours but careful not to let his full weight fall on you. He ran his nose up the side of your neck, along your cheek before letting it rub against your own. You grabbed his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss. There was something so erotic about tasting yourself when your tongues met.

“Show me your bedroom?” Steve pulled away. You gave a weak nod. Steve stood up and hoisted you up, your legs weak beneath you.

“Poor baby.” He cooed in your ear. “Only one orgasm down and already can’t walk. I can’t imagine how you’ll be when I’m done with you.”

With that he lifted you and walked down your short hallway to the bedroom. In your hazy, post orgasm mind you hoped the mattress was comfy. You hadn’t even tested out beforehand.

Steve threw you on the bed and you sighed as you fell into the cloud. You leaned back on your elbows and watched as Steve unbuttoned the new shirt and trousers he had on. You stifled your laughter thinking about the wine stained ones back at his house.

“Something amusing to you, sweetheart?” He grabbed your ankle and pulled you towards the end of the bed. He lifted your foot up, setting it over his shoulder as he kissed the inside of your calf.

“No, sir.” You teased.

“You’re a bad liar.” He nipped at your knee.

Not as bad as you might think.

Steve made you come at least four more times that night. Your body completely spent when he finally rolled over and laid next to you, yours and his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

You rolled over and threw your leg and arm over his body, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck. Steve’s fingers toyed with yours as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Spend the night?” You asked into the darkness. It was nearly three in the morning and your eyes were slowly closing no matter how much you willed them to stay open.

“I have some business things that I have to take care of early in the morning.” He answered, his fingers running up and down your arm.

“Oh, okay.” You said sadly. Steve’s chest rumbled with light laughter as he brought your hand that was in his up to his lips and gave it a kiss. You were soon realizing that he was actually a very affectionate person.

“But I want you to come back to the house tomorrow. I’ll send one of my guys for you in the afternoon.”

“Really?” You sat up. Steve blindly reached for your nightstand and turned on the lamp that was on it. His hair was tousled from the numerous times you had run your fingers through it and his lips were red and swollen. He looked like the epitome of sex and it was fucking hot.

“Yes, really.” He chuckled. He grabbed your phone that was on the nightstand and held it out for you to unlock. You did quickly and he took it back and started typing. “I don’t give out my personal number to a lot of people.”

“So I’m special.” You wiggled in your spot, a grin covering your face.

“Yes. You are.” Steve looked back at you and you were taken aback by the sincerity in his tone. He handed your phone back to you and you laughed at the name he had for his contact: Steve Rogers and an eggplant emoji.

“You’re a child.” You giggled.

Steve rolled his eyes and got out of bed and you took the time to appreciate his bum as he walked over to get his pants.

You gathered the soft sheets in your hand and brought them up to your chest. Although you weren’t sure what you were trying to hide, he had seen it all.

Once he was dressed and you slipped on a robe that you found hanging behind the door, you walked him out. He stood in your doorframe, his large figure making the space seem very small. He smiled as he tucked a loose piece of hair behind your head and leaned down and gave you a kiss.

“Make sure to lock all the doors behind me. And text me when you wake up tomorrow.” He demanded softly.

“Mmmkay, I will.” You said hazily.

“Go get some sleep, princess.” He laughed as he pushed away from the door and walked to the elevator. You watched as he got in and gave you a quick wave before whipping out his phone to make a call.

Once he was out of sight you closed the door softly, making sure to bolt everything before heading back to your bed. You were too tired to even clean up before you passed out.

[serpenteve]

so i still hate book!mal 😒

I'm almost done re-reading the Grisha trilogy (because I hate myself) and I kept getting annoyed by how so many of Mal's lines that Bardugo clearly thought were "romantic" and swoon-worthy are literally just telegraphing how possessive, toxic, narcissistic, selfish and entitled he is?

I don't think I can fully express how completely she failed in trying to endear this character to me because so much of what he says and does reminds me of the toxic and controlling people I've known 😬

Note: This has nothing to do with m*lina shippers. This post is not for you. You guys can ship what you want and it's none of my business. This is just an examination of the book character's dialogue and why I (and many other people) felt uneasy about him.

part one: shadow & bone

We see the first glimpse of Mal's possessiveness and jealousy when he first encounters Alina at the Little Palace:

"And here you are, safe and sound, dancing and flirting like some cosseted little princess." [...] “Are you happy here, Alina?” The question took me by surprise. “I … I don’t know. Sometimes.” “Are you happy here with him?” [...] “The clothes, the jewels, even the way you look. He’s all over you." [...] “Just admit it,” he sneered. “He owns you.”

Apparently, we're supposed to excuse his blatant slut-shaming and anger because....he's been on a perilous assignment where his friends died and he thought Alina was being tortured. But I fail to see how this makes any sense because if you thought the person you loved was in danger and you'd risked your life just to see them and then discover they are actually safe and sound....would you not be overjoyed and relieved? This whole time you thought they were suffering or in danger but it turns out they're completely safe and cared for!

It's especially telling that instead of asking about anything else, Mal seems particularly interested in Alina's relationship with the Darkling, and maps their relationship dynamic as "ownership" simply because Alina wears black. His vicious tone suggests to me that he's just salty he's not the one "owning" Alina.

The real reason Mal is pissed is because Alina is happy without him (and potentially with another love interest) and he can't stand that because he feels personally entitled to have her.

Later, he admits to ruminating about this moment like an unhinged stalker:

“Do you? That night at the palace when I saw you on that stage with him, you looked so happy. Like you belonged with him. I can’t get that picture out of my head.” “I was happy,” I admitted. “In that moment, I was happy. I’m not like you, Mal. I never really fit in the way that you did. I never really belonged anywhere.” “You belonged with me,” he said quietly.

This passage has always telegraphed Mal's sense of entitlement towards Alina. Prior to her getting whisked away to the Little Palace, Mal showed little romantic affection for Alina. But now that she's the fabled Sun Summoner, he comes off like he thinks he's more entitled to Alina than anyone else simply because they grew up together.

Alina even frankly tells him that she hasn't felt like she belonged with him for a long time. Instead of exploring why that might be, why they might have been on diverging paths, why Mal has made Alina feel like she is unworthy of his romantic feelings until now, Mal goes on what I assume is supposed to be a romantic speech:

"I’ve risked my life for you. I’ve walked half the length of Ravka for you, and I’d do it again and again and again just to be with you, just to starve with you and freeze with you and hear you complain about hard cheese every day. So don’t tell me we don’t belong together"

Again, this reeks of entitlement and manipulation. This is one of those lines that I see certain m*lina shippers using as proof of how "nice" Mal is but it honestly kind of scares me? He doesn't care about Alina's feelings or want to explore why she felt so distant from him. He's the one in charge and if he did X, Y, Z for Alina then he's entitled to have her and she's just going to have to accept that.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to see you, Alina. But I see you now.”

This specific line on its own doesn't necessarily have to be bad. We've certainly seen variations of this in other media. But combined with his sense of entitlement, how he treats Alina in the later books, and the fact that she needed to transform into a literal sunbeam for Mal to even consider her as a romantic prospect, it just makes me roll my eyes. Why should Alina be the one to look past Mal's obliviousness when he's barely given her the time of day and reacted so negatively at the mere suggestion that she might have found happiness with another man? Why should Alina just forgive Mal's jealousy when he has a reputation for sleeping around that Alina has kindly ignored even though it deeply hurt her?

I don't care if you danced naked on the roof of the Little Palace with him. I love you, Alina, even the part of you that loved him.”

This is supposed to be Mal's "apology" for his outburst at the Little Palace and I was on-board with it up until the last part. This is another line I see m*lina shippers pointing to as proof that Mal doesn't have a toxic madonna/whore complex and doesn't care about Alina's previous romantic interests. But the problem is that he treats Alina's previous affections for the Darkling as a moral stain on her character. It's a back-handed compliment that amounts to: "I don't care if you had sex with him because I'll still love you, even that stupid and slutty part of you that loved him"

He touched my cheek lightly, and when he spoke again, his voice was low and raw. “I never want to see you in black again.”

Again, this is meant to be romantic but it just makes me feel very uncomfortable. Mal is so hyperfixated on the Darkling "marking" Alina with a color. It would be one thing if Alina is also equally or more perturbed by the color, but she just isn't? Or at least she's not as obsessed with it as Mal appears to be.

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Hi hun! Hope you’re doing well! Could a request a Shikamaru fic! I was thinking maybe it’s obvious to everyone that Shikamaru and Reader like each-other (except themselves of course). But a mission where they have to pretend to be a couple and they finally confess.

😘

Pretenders (Shikamaru x Reader)

A/N: another request. Im not super proud of this one, i really got stuck halfway through and i think that shows here. Thanks for requesting though, and hopefully you still enjoy. Trigger Warning for sexual assault.

word count: 6500

“So, you two set out on a mission tonight right?” Ino asked, leaning her cheek in her hand, nodding toward her two friends across the booth.

“Yep. Supposedly 3 weeks,” Y/N told her. “I won’t get to see you guys for so long.” The girl took a quick sip of her lemonade and sighed. It was a substantial amount of time. It’d been a while since she’d gone somewhere so intensive.

Shikamaru and Y/N had only a couple more hours before they were to be briefed on the details of otheir next mission and whisked away to a far away land for yet another tedious job. Y/N was perfectly fine with the premise of going on a 3 week mission, she’d been home too long and longed for some kind of adventure. She still wasn’t sure the caliber of the mission, nor did she even know where or what they were doing, but she was excited nonetheless.

Shikamaru, of course, wasn’t too fond of the entire idea. Yes, he was more than happy to find out his mission partner was Y/N L/N. Out of all the people he could have been paired with, she was most definitely the least annoying. He really felt like Kakashi had his back lately with missions, giving him ones that were semi decent, and sending him out with his friends. He was certainly grateful for the Hokage’s assignments.

Choji added from his spot near the wall, taking a second away from munching on his lunch. “It won’t be so bad. You guys have each other, after all. How could things get boring when you have your little girlfriend with you, Shikamaru, am I right?”

“Choji…” Shikamaru groaned, pressing his fingers to either side of his temples. These sorts of things borhered the hell out of him. The constant teasing from everyone, not just his teammates, but literally teachers, other squads, his mother, her grandmother. They weren’t dating. They never were dating.

Yet every person in this damned town was under the assumption there was something going on between them. Really, he was just trying to live his life.

Did he want to date her? Yes, a million times over, yes. She was literally perfect, he couldn’t imagine himself with anyone else. But was Y/N at all interested? Definitely not. She was more oblivious than Naruto was with Hinata, and that’s saying a lot. She seemed to ignore everyone when they made jokes, she thought all his measly attempts at flirting were just normal conversation even when he treated Ino completely differently. She wasn’t a dumb girl either. She was smart in her own right.

That’s why he’d begun to think she was maybe avoiding his advances on purpose. That she didn’t like him and she was trying to let him down easy. It was stupid really, and he wished she would just come out with it already, tell him to his face that she just wanted to be friends. It was frustrating, to say the least, but he kept trying.

He could safely say he hadn’t felt this way for another girl in his entire life, and he wouldn’t give up that easily. He really just wanted other people to mind their business. That’s the reason he shot down all the jokes and comments from his friends. They didn’t need to know about his lovelife, that was personal.

Ino smirked, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder and letting a laugh leave her lips. “Come on, Choji. You know how Shika feels about you teasing him.”

“Fine. But you gotta admit it’s funny.”

They continued on with their conversation, Shikamaru groaning at their jokes and the other two laughing the entire time. That was how it usually went. Y/N just listened quietly, sipping away at her lemonade. Those two, his teammates, they always made jokes, it was normal. She was constantly labeled Shikamaru’s girlfriend, and each time he denied it. Over and over again. He didn’t let a single instance slide by.

That’s how she knew to avoid the subject. To keep her feelings to herself. There was no point in confessing to him when he was already so adamant at keeping their relationship out of other people’s mouths. She was a troublesome girl, anyone who thought he saw her as anything different was delusional.

So she kept quiet, just listening.

Each time someone joked, her stomach would turn and she would wait for him to say something, for him to admit they were right, for him to get flushed in the cheeks, for him to reach out and hold her hand and confess his feelings, and each time she was let down brutally. After enough times getting her heart broken, it was only inevitable she give up this false hope. There was no digging her way into his cold heart. He was so closed off, to get inside...it seemed like an impossible feat.

She wasn’t willing to fight for him anymore. It was tiring, and they never got anywhere.

After enough time, she stopped crying herself to sleep. She stopped talking about her crush with Hinata and Ino when the boys weren’t around. She still looked at him with all the love she had to give. He was the best man she knew, how could she not. She just stopped wishing for something that wasn’t going to happen. She stopped investing so much of her time and energy into a useless, pointless dream.

She was tired of running endlessly in circles, over and over again. All because of his dumbass.

Maybe with time, she could try and get over him. With time she could learn to like him the same way as all their other friends. It was always just the little things that would pull her back in every time. It was the walks home at night when she was tired, or she had too many drinks and he’d wrap his arm around her waist and hold her so tight to his side she could feel his heart beating. It was the times he’d lay beside her in the grass and run his fingers through her hair splayed out over the ground. It was the times he would hold her silently as she cried for her mother and father who’d died, and he would rub her back until she could breathe again.

Every single fucking time she got close, the moments she felt she might not be desperately in love with him anymore, he came right in and stole her heart again. It wasn’t his fault, he was just being a good friend, but God, did it hurt sometimes.

And it wasn’t Ino and Choji’s fault for talking about it. It was so fucking obvious she liked him. Y/N followed Shikamaru around like a lost puppy half the time, what else were they supposed to think? They were just wrong in their assumptions that she was anything more to Shikamaru himself. That the boy thought of her as anything more than a troublesome friend who was always needing help with something or another.

She drank the last bit of her drink and set down the glass. “We better be heading to the Hokage tower soon. It’s almost time, and he still has to debrief us and all, “ she told the boy at her right.

“Yeah. I’ll go get my bag from home first and we’ll meet up there?”

“Got it,” Y/N slid out of the booth and waved to her friends. “See you when we get back.”

“Bye, Y/N!” Ino called as the girl left the restaurant with her book bag over her shoulder. She sighed, sinking down into her seat and glaring over at the pineapple head across from them. “You gotta make your move on this mission, Shika. Stop being such a scaredy cat.”

“Listen, you guys don’t know anything about anything, okay? She doesn’t like me that way. She never has.”

“I never thought I’d have to say this, but you’re dumb, man,” Choji laughed. “She obviously likes you.”

“Yeah, yeah. All of you seem to think that but you don’t see how she is with me. We are purely friends. That’s it.”

“Whatever, man,” he waved off the boy’s stern reply and added, “ Have fun on your trip with Y/N. Hope you get lucky.” Those words caused Shikamaru to heat up from his neck to the tips of his ears and he promptly slid out from his seat, straightening his vest as he did so to try and calm himself. That was unnecessary of his friend to say, for sure.

He turned to them once more and nodded his head. “See you around.”

“See you!”

Now all he needed to do was get his things together and meet up with the girl of his dreams for their weeks long mission. Fun times. Especially now that his friends made him annoyed and frustrated with the entire situation again. He’d have to calm down before seeing her soon.

_______

“We’re doing what?” Y/N asked, staring down at their Hokage in disbelief. He’d been detailing their mission and everything seemed normal so far, infiltrating and learning information about a budding coup in a far away nation just on the edge of the Land of Earth and The Land of Wind. It seemed easy enough at first, but then he kept going.

Kakashi sighed. “I said, you two are to be disguised as a princess and her consort from the Land of Sunflowers. The leaders of this land are expecting these royal visitors and you will be taking their place.”

“So, like, he’s gonna be my husband?” she asked for clarification again. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand his words, it was that she didn’t want to believe them. This was her worst nightmare. They would have to pretend to be in a relationship? Shikamaru was going to hate this more than anything and it would be uncomfortable the entire time.

Why did Kakashi have to pick them two, of all his shinobi? Why?

“Yes. That won’t be a problem for two close friends such as yourselves. After all, that’s why I picked you. You have some kind of dynamic going I feel your targets will find believable.” Shikamaru cursed the heavens. Even the fucking Hokage thought they were involved. This was ridiculous. Now this long ass mission he was already dreading was made ten times worse with this awkward situation. “We’re not gonna have a problem, are we?”

It would be okay though. He just had to take a few deep breaths. That’s all.

“No, sir, of course not. I’m ready for anything you throw at me,” she declared, straightening her back and letting the heat fade from her cheeks. She was embarrassed, obviously, but she couldn’t let the Hokage know. It was easier talking to Kakashi though, much easier than Tsunade. Kakashi watched them grow up, he knew them personally from helping them train. That didn’t mean she couldn’t be flustered.

“You’ll take those bags with you. They have some more suitable clothing for royalty. Put them on when you get close to the village. Throw out any indicators you’re from the Leaf as well.”

“Okay.”

“You’re dismissed. Leave as soon as possible,” the gray haired shinobi told them. She nodded and threw the bag over her shoulder, tossing the other one over to Shikmaru who caught it and slung it onto his back. He definitely wasn’t happy about any of this, but maybe it was a sign.

Ino and Choji told him to confess his feelings to her on this mission. Kakashi just told them they would be pretending to be a married couple. As he watched her walking in front of him down the Tower stairs, her head just barely dipped as she absorbed all the information running through her mind, he wondered if maybe this was his opportunity. A make or break type scenario. He had three weeks to figure out how to tell her how he felt in a more direct way than he’d tried before.

He worked out all the scenarios and their outcomes in his head millions of times and every time they ended in disaster. For someone so great at strategy, he sure did struggle with this one.

“So, I guess we’re married now. Should we start kissing or something?” she asked awkwardly as they reached the bottom of the stairs, shifting back and forth from her toes to her heels. He stopped, more like froze, in his path and stared at her.

“Now you're just making it weird,” he replied. “We aren’t even there yet.”

“I know, I was kidding. Trying to lighten the mood, you know,” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. Of course he would reply like that. He didn’t like her at all, he couldn’t even take a fucking joke. Had to get all upset over it like a baby, all because he was so set on never dating her ever, never even entertaining the thought. She rolled her eyes, “You don’t have to be so rude about it, geez.”

She kept walking before he could reply. He had a feeling this trip was going to be a lot worse than anyone had anticipated. He was nervous, grumpy, and preparing for the worst. In fact, what he really wanted was a nice long nap.

_________

The dresses that Kakashi packed for her were...extravagant to say the least. They flowed all the way down to her ankles, thick heavy hoop skirts embroidered from head to toe with symbols of the land of sunflowers. She felt strange with her shoulders exposed and her body on display in these outfits which were so unlike the pants and t-shirts she wore when she was back at home or on a normal mission. She wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and sighed, feeling at least a little covered.

Shikamaru had nice clothes, but they were nothing in comparison to her wild dresses and all the bright colors of the fabric. He looked semi-normal. She was jealous, admittedly, that he still got to wear pants and shirts. He said she looked good in the dress, he actually told her about a dozen times, reassuring over and over again that she looked fine, but she didn’t believe him. She wasn’t dainty, how could she look beautiful when she clearly didn't belong in something so delicate?

Still, when they walked up to the gates of the Land of Shadows, they were greeted like the royalty they pretended to be. They were swept away to the main castle to meet with the King and his wife. It was nearly dinner time, and they were to eat with them as a greeting. It made sense, but Y/N felt herself growing more nervous with the second. She didn’t know the first thing about being a princess, or acting like a monarch. All she knew was fighting and joking with her friends.

Not only that, but how could she convince them that she and Shikamaru were in a relationship? Y/N wasn’t sure they possessed the right dynamic and even if they tried, it would be obvious they were uncomfortable with each other. It was all making her heart race, and she had to take a few deep breaths as they entered the dining room.

But her companion...he knew what he was doing. He was going to put on quite the show, take advantage of the situation. If this week and a half was his only chance to hold Y/N in his heart, than he wouldn't let any opportunities slip by.

Without warning, she found that Shikamaru had reached over and wrapped her hand up in his bigger one, clutching at her shaking fingers. He was so steady, she found herself sinking into his touch. It was comforting, more so than she thought it could be, given the circumstances. His skin was just so warm and soft against hers, it was only natural she felt safer.

“Ah, Princess Ayaka, Duke Hisashi. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” a man called from his place at the table. His wife was sitting beside him, her soft smile only reaching her lips not nearing her eyes. Y/N caught that immediately. Her distance. Silently, she took note of that as the King approached them, extending his arms for an embrace.

“It’s an honor to meet you, your highness,” Shikamaru replied with a smile, an obvious fake one, but damn was he good. She watched as he hugged the man so earnestly, as if he’d sunken right into the role of consort without an issue. She’d have to ask him tonight how he was so good at acting.

“And your beautiful wife,” he extended his hand to the girl and she raised it hesitantly, receiving a soft kiss to the back of her palm. “Come take a seat. Dinner will be served soon.”

The pair took their seats beside each other on the opposite side of the table, Y/N directly across from the Queen, who looked up at her for merely a moment only to sigh and go back to fiddling with the curve of her wine glass. "Your highness," Y/N hummed to the woman who nodded.

"Oh what a dream, to be young and in love," she said. "I remember the days."

"Please dear! To me, you will always be my beautiful young wife! We share a love to last a lifetime," the king cheered, placing his hand over that of his wife's as he took his seat at the table. "I apologize for her gloom. She's been going through a rough patch. We are more than overjoyed to have you here."

"It's fine. We all have our bad days," the girl replied softly.

After a few minutes of small talk, just dipping their feet into the conversation, a couple servants brought out plates of food and wine bottles full of vintage drink truly meant for the highest of royalty. Compared to the plain sake she had drank at home, this was liquid gold dripping down her throat. Shikamaru sent her a warning look. Y/N was known to be quite the lightweight, and even a couple glasses of wine could send her into a tipsy stupor. He really knew her too well, so hyperaware of the things she did.

"So, how did you two meet?" their host asked, taking a moment away from the chicken in front of him. "It's said that you married for love, not arrangement. That's true?"

Y/N and Shikamaru hadn't been versed very well on the details, just on the basics. Her heart beat increased, stress building up. Her lies would have to be good.

"Yes. You've heard right. He was my friend before anything else. We met as children." That much she knew for sure after reading the mission summary.

"Oh wow. Childhood lovers. Very sweet," the queen sighed, resting her cheek in her palm.

Y/N would be lying if she didn't feel a bit of similarities between her own story and that of the real princess she was pretending to be. Shikamaru and Y/N grew up together, for as long as she could remember. She started to love him before she even really knew what love was. It only made sense she pretended to be a princess in the same situation.

And when he held her hand again, this time under the table, his thumb brushing over her knuckles so softly she thought she might melt. Her cheeks began to heat up under his touch and she smiled. It was so nice holding his hand, pretending to care about each other this way. Not that she needed to pretend.

Dinner droned on, and she continued to hold his hand the entire time, besides when they were spooning at their food. For once on a mission, it felt like they were completely at peace. Of course, they were both supposed to be analyzing the movements of everyone around them to make sure no one was planning a coup like Kakashi told them. But she couldn’t held but cherish the moments of calmness and warmth between everyone.

The King and his wife were genuinely some of the kindest people she’d ever met, whether they were just acting that way or not. It was a pleasure to have dinner with them, talking and laughing like an uncle would with his nieces and nephews. It had that same energy, talking to him.

“Hisashi, you wouldn’t mind accompanying me to my library? I have some books I think you might enjoy,” the man said, standing from the table. The rest of them slid out of their chairs after him, and she had to brush down her skirts to make sure everything was in line. It was tedious, wearing these outfits without any prior warning. She felt like a clown. The Queen was so effortless in her movements, how could she not feel stupid standing beside someone so regal?

“That sounds great, your majesty-”

“Not necessary. Call me Shoto, that’s my name after all, and you are an honored guest,” he laughed. He reached over and gave his wife a gentle kiss on the cheek before turning on his heel and heading toward the door. She really expected Shikamaru to just leave with just a simple goodbye, or a “I’ll see you tonight” kind of thing.

Definitely not this.

He was gonna go all out this time around.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he whispered, just loud enough for only her to hear, over her shoulder into her ear. When his warm breath hit her skin, shivers ran up and down her spine. Her eyes widened and she turned to stare up at him, cursing herself when she felt heat rise up in her cheeks and burn the tips of her ears. Was he serious, or just teasing her? He always liked to crack jokes like that.

But when she felt his rough hand pressed to her cheek, lifting her face ever so carefully to meet his, she knew he wasn’t messing around. His eyes met hers for a split second, and she could have sworn he winked down at her before pressing his lips to hers.

Honestly, she thought she might have a heart attack right there in the dining room. Shikamaru was kissing her. It felt even better than she dreamed it would. Chapped lips running against hers, heat pooling in her stomach, heart pounding in her chest.

As soon as it started, though, the kiss was over, and he took a step back. "See you tonight, Princess."

She was keen on catching the smirk on his lips, and the way he laughed to himself as he walked out of the room with the King before him.

Y/N stood there silently, her fingers pressed to her lips, breath caught in her throat. The boy she’d wanted for so long just kissed her like it was nothing, and she was left all alone to deal with this predicament, all the feelings that came rushing in after. All she knew for sure, whether he was serious or not, was that she really, seriously liked him. She liked him a lot more than she thought.

And now they had a whole week and a half of fake kisses and hand holding to endure. Jeez.

__________

“You know, you’re nothing like the other princesses I’ve met,” the guard said to her as she waited for Shikamaru to show up. He was still out with the King practicing archery. Apparently that was a hobby a lot of these rich country men had. So far, she wasn’t suspecting a thing out of the King or any of his closest acquaintances. They were nice as could be and seemed sincere in their intentions toward the village alliances. She had no reason to suspect them, and was beginning to think a coup was just as Kakashi thought, a mere rumor.

That made things a lot easier.

She sighed, tapping her fingers on her wrist. She wasn’t a fan of having a guard watching her every second of the day, especially not the talkative ones. This one was strange. He gave off this energy she couldn’t describe as anything other than creepy.

“Yeah? That’s nice,” she muttered.

“It’s just, usually princesses are pompous, full of themselves, spoiled women. You aren’t the same,” he continued, even if it was obvious she wanted him to shut up and go about his business while she did hers. She felt uncomfortable being alone in this land, without any of her weapons or the ability to fight back if someone was acting sketchy. She was forced to sit by like some little, ditsy princess just watching and observing.

Honestly, though, Shikamaru was probably having a great time. All he had to do was eat with the royalty, play board games, shoot some arrows, and then go to sleep. There was no extensive fighting or thinking going on, just sitting around observing and waiting for something suspicious to happen.

The queen would normally hang out with the female guests but thanks to her bouts of depression she stayed in her room, leaving Y/N completely at the mercy of time. So much time passed, and she was bored of it.

“I’m honestly just another princess. You’d be surprised though. Many princesses are just as modest as I am, it’s not all that uncommon,” she commented, taking a peek over at the man, only to quickly look away. He had quite the hungry look on his face, and if her eyes hadn’t deceived her, his own were trained right on her breasts. Damn these dresses.

Y/N wrapped her arms across her chest and slumped down, trying to hide herself from this weird man watching over her. Only, it seemed impossible. He was so much taller, could just look over her shoulder. She couldn’t run away and raise suspicion. She had to sit here and wait for someone else to break the tension.

She was scared.

“I meant that as a compliment. You say thank you when someone compliments you, yeah?” he mumbled, a firm hand reaching out to snatch her wrist. It hurt, his grip on her arm, and she winced at the feeling. “Say thank you.”

She bit her lip and refused to meet his eyes, instead focusing on his hands. If she needed to, she would defend herself but only to a small extent. She couldn’t blow her cover just because some guard was manhandling her. Take a deep breath, Y/N. It’s gonna be okay. Just calm down.

“T-Thank you,” she gulped, hoping he would drop her wrist. But he didn’t. He only held on tighter.

He smiled, yellow teeth showing through his thin lips. “See, you are a good girl, aren’t you?” he questioned, and she felt his other hand run up her waist. All she could do was whimper, shivers running up her spine and any skin this man laid his hands on. The only hope she had was that another guard come walking around and see them.

It was unlikely, but she prayed for a savior to make their appearance.

His hand worked its way down to her ass, and she felt him squeeze. Vomit rose up in her throat and she squirmed away, pressing herself against the wall as tight as she could so his hands had nowhere to go. Instead, he took to fondling her breasts in his hands. She could only bite her lips and feel the tears bubble up in her eyes as he pushed down the fabric of her top and pressed his filthy palms against her skin.

“What the fuck?” a voice cursed from behind them. The guard was torn off of her form and she brought up her hands to cover herself, tears still dripping thickly from her eyes as she cried, little breathy sobs leaving her lips. Shikamaru stood there, hands shaking at his sides as he glared over at the guard. “What’s going on here?” he demanded. Y/N watched as her friend turned red in the face, burning up with an anger she rarely saw from him, if ever.

“You tell me, your highness. Your wife seduced me!” the guard cried, clearly lying to cover himself and his sins.

The eyes of all three men, the guard, Shikamaru, and the King standing near the footwell of the stairs, turned to her. She just cried harder, shaking like a leaf in front of everyone. “He grabbed me and started to touch me, and-and I couldn’t do anything,” Y/N told them all through her pained cries.

The King marched up the steps and grabbed his guard by the arm, yanking him toward the doorway to enter the castle. He appeared worn from his workout, tired and sweaty, but he was awake enough to realize the severity of the situation. He bowed low to Y/N and her companion.

His apology ran thick from his mustached lips, “This is unacceptable. Honored guests, I apologize for everything that’s happened. I will take care of this, I assure you. Please, don’t hesitate to ask for anything you need tonight.” Shikamaru nodded, and they watched as the pair of men walked into the castle, no doubt to find another guard to incarcerate the guard in question.

Shikamaru turned to her and winced, seeing her dress pushed down below her breasts and the tremors running through her hands desperate to cover them. He watched as hot, heavy tears ran thick down her cheeks and her lips quivered and shook with fear and trauma. Gently, he moved her hands to the side and brought her dress back up to cover her chest. He worked carefully, making sure not to startle her or make things worse.

The woman sunk into his touch, leaning her head against his shoulder and sobbing. “It’s gonna be okay, Y/N. You’re safe now.” He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and tugged her close to his chest, pressing a soft, gentle hand to the back of her head to stroke her hair. “I’m so sorry. I won’t leave you alone again, okay?”

“Shika, “ she whimpered, “I’ve never felt so helpless in my entire life. I couldn’t do anything to defend myself and there was no one else around to help me. I-I didn’t know what to do.”

“I know. You must have been so scared,” he whispered. She just nodded against his shoulder, crying deeper into his chest. He hugged her tighter and swore to himself, even if he couldn't make it happen, that he would protect her. This kind of thing would never happen to her again if he had any say at all. “I promise this won’t happen again.”

"I've just never been in that position before. I always have the upper hand. It was awful. I was so scared and I wanted to cry for you to come help me but I didn't know where you were."

"God, I'm sorry," he mumbled, hugging her tighter in a desperate attempt to calm her shaking. He just wanted for her to be better, even if he knew that wasn't an option right now.

He felt so hopeless, knowing the only thing he could do was promise, to say things without any actual basis behind them. He was just whispering words to the wind hoping they would stick and he was right. He cursed himself for not being there in the first place to protect her, to make sure something like this never happened in the first place. He really was useless when she needed him the most.

He wouldn’t even argue if she said she wanted to go home, if she never wanted to see him again. He let her down. For the first time ever, he let her down in the most terrible, awful way he could think of. And now she was crying and he didn’t know how to make it better. He was really trash.

For now, all he could do though was hug her and promise her the world, all these things that might make her feel safe and comfortable, make her feel less alone and scared. It was the least he could do.

________

Finally, after a long evening of socializing and another huge dinner literally fit for a king, Y/N found herself stripping off her gowns and heavy undergarments, switching into something much lighter and comfortable for the night.

She was tired from the day. From being left alone for the good part of the morning just sitting in the sun waiting around. She was tired from the assault on her body by the guard whom was supposedly in jail right now for his actions. She was tired from all the crying and the shaking. She was just tired.

Shikamaru was out, finishing up drinks with the King and some of his subordinates for the time being, so she sunk down into the mattress near the far wall, curling up under the down covers and pulling a book from the table beside her. Anything to ease her mind for a while. She felt safe being alone in the confides of the bedroom, knowing that her friend was right down the hall if she needed him.

She scanned the pages of the novel quietly, humming each time she turned a page, leaning on her elbow so the pages would be illuminated in the candlelight.

After about an hour, the door slid open and her companion entered, shutting the door silently behind him. "You aren't asleep? I expected you to be after such a long day."

"I'm tired, but I'm not in the mood for sleep yet," she shrugged, still skimming through the pages of her novel. "Did you have fun?"

"Nah. It's such a drag having to hang out with that old man. He's nice but he never stops talking." He took off his coats and tossed them onto a chair, kicking off his heavy boots and thick socks. "Annoying, having to wear all this fancy shit too."

"Trust me, I know." She shifted over in the bed so he had more space to lay himself down, kicking out his legs and crossing his ankles. "Do you know what's on the agenda for tomorrow?"

He nodded, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side to peek at her face. His eyes slid down to the novel turned over in her hands and smirked, "Yeah. You've got book club. Have fun with that." She tossed her book back on the table beside her and instead curled further into the blankets.

His eyes caught hers and he smiled, one of those undeniably handsome intoxicating smiles she loved so deeply. "You know, you look kinda cute like that."

"Huh?"

He shrugged, "All curled up under the blankets like a little baby. It's cute. I'm just calling it how I see it."

If she wasn't flustered before, she definitely was now. He was undeniably making her feel some sort of way, and she was loving the attention. He was being so bold, so unlike him. She questioned what had compelled him to act like this, to say such things. They weren't in character anymore, it wasn't like he had to say these things.

"Thanks, Shika." She felt dumb but what was she supposed to say? She was overwhelmed. "But we're alone now. You don't have to act all lovey-dovey."

He crossed his arms beneath his head and sighed, eyes gazing up at the canopy. He mumbled, just loud enough to reach her ears, “When this is all over, I’m gonna miss you being my princess.” She peered over at him in the candlelit room, making out his faint silhouette in the darkness. Her heart fluttered in her chest at his sweet words. She never imagined in a million years Shikamaru would say these things to her, and now that it was happening she didn’t know how to react.

She dreamed of this moment for a while now. The thoughts of Shikamaru confessing his feelings and then her falling into his arms dramatically. It was a fantasy of hers, a guilty pleasure. Far too dramatic to ever be a reality.

That's why she was too shocked to meet his eyes. His princess. Those words made her woozy.

"What are you talking about?"

"You're not stupid. You know what I'm talking about," he said calmly.

"You don't want things to go back to normal?" Y/N asked, hesitant. She felt nervous, diving into these waters. Each words felt like it held so much weight. It was a puzzle, just finding the right thing to say, how to reply to his statement. "Just friends, like before?"

"Is that what you want?"

And when she really thought about it, he was right. She didn't want to go back to normal. She wanted to continue holding his hand, kissing his cheek and his lips, loving each other with their words and their gazes and all the little touches. She wanted all of this to last and as the mission came to a close, she found herself worrying for the future empty of all those things.

She shook her head, just barely able to bring her eyes up to meet his. He looked bored, but she knew he cared. He cared a lot, actually. "I-I think I'd like if we could stay like this."

"Falling in love with you, Y/N, was one of the easiest things I've ever done. Finding the right time to tell you, that's been troublesome," he confessed, blowing a stray piece of hair from his eyes. "You never seemed emotionally available, really."

"I always was. I was always waiting for you, Shikamaru. Ever since we were just teenagers, I've been waiting for you," she told him, letting her heart finally come out with her words. "I just thought you wanted to be friends. Before this mission, I had completely given up on being with you, but then everything seemed to fall into place on this trip."

"When Kakashi told us we would be married for this mission, I have to admit, I got excited." He rolled onto his side to face her. She was still curled up in her blanket, and he felt like he was melting. The most beautiful woman in the entire world right in front of him, his heart playing right into her hands. He was okay with that. He was okay with this girl having his entire soul if that meant he would see that smile and those eyes peering up at him.

He wasn't a romantic man. Far from it. But she brought out a side of him he'd only heard about from love struck novelists, such kinds Kakashi sensei would read.

"I just knew I'd have to shoot my shot with you," he finished, sending a wink her way. She truly was swoon, like putty in his hands. Her words came faster than she could think to stop them.

"Shikamaru, I think I love you. When you kissed me for the first time, I knew it was true. All these feelings for the past few years weren’t in vain. I love you."

"The feeling is mutual."

The girl crawled out from under the blankets and over to him on the other side of the mattress. Her arms wound around his neck and as best she could, she curled into his chest. Her ear pressed to his heart, beating loud and constant in her mind. He was more than happy to let her cuddle up to him, in fact, he relished in the feeling.

This is what he'd been missing out on all this time. The hugs. The cuddles. The looks in the dark full of love and longing. It was nice, to lay there with someone he knew for sure, without any doubt, loved him to the moon and back. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her tighter to his tired form, letting her sink further into his touch.

Kakashi knew what he was doing sending them. Two lovers with a mask over their emotions, straight into a game full of dancing around their feelings and pretending to be something they always wanted to be. Everything played out perfectly, a happy ending for a couple of worthy shinobi.

He was happy. That's all he could ask for.

[matchamorphosis]

MS ROSIE THAT HEADCANNON OMFG MAY I PRETTY PLEASE REQUEST DADDY ARI- maybe like hes busy with work but youre really needy so he lets you ride his thigh i lub mean daddy ari🥺<33333

𝐶𝐴𝑁𝐷𝑌 𝐶𝑂𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐷 𝐶𝐻𝐸𝑅𝑈𝐵

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || Ari hasn’t been paying you much attention and so you take matters in your own hands as well as your short cherry skirt.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 || smut smut smut

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 || alt. AU — daddy!ari levinson × [black//woc]fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || 18+ nsfw, thigh riding, masochism, kinda dark!ari, spanking, hair pulling, lots of edging, tons of crying, Ari is a big meanie :(( MINORS DNI — 18+ INTERACTION ONLY

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 || candy by doja cat

𝐰. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 || yes jasmeen of course you can!! 🥺💗 i’m gonna make daddy!ari extra mean and dirty for you and i’m gonna add a little bit of bratty reader cause in this house we love mean daddies and spoiled brats! 💗💗💗

Ari’s eyes follow the screen to the stacks of paperwork in front of him. all this was due by the end of the week and he still didn’t file the information from the online form to the files laying on his desk.

there were times where Ari broke some work related limits of hours upon hours of desk work fueled by caffeine and your kisses of encouragement but then again he did have his limits.

these were those times but no matter how much he promised himself he’d take a break, meaning to check up on you and see what you’ve been up to. although time seemed to pass and Ari hadn’t realize that that side note was forgotten three hours ago on the account of his mind relentlessly kept on reeling him back into his paperwork.

the large coffee mug you made him at a pottery class sits besides a stack of files is pushing its fifth refill of the day as Ari pours the remaining bitter black liquid from the coffeepot. the dark black liquid flowing into the yellow painted, honeypot shaped mug.

it makes him smile at the memory of when you gifted it to him, wrapped in sparkly wrapping paper he presses kisses all over your face in gratitude. he always complained on needing a mug since he always dropped them and he was certain to never drop of break this special mug his princess made him.

its sudden with the loose grip he has on the coffee mug that the coffee spills over the brink of the mug and onto a few papers. the action causes Ari to blurt out an aggregated scold before fanning out the papers soaked in coffee to the side near a fan.

sitting back down on his chair his eyes look over the work he has completed. stapling and putting away documents that have been signed and filed out as well as closing off tabs that weren’t important anymore-

he still has more work cut out for him

his rushing thoughts and swift hands bearing a pen and the other a computer mouse, his head shoots up as a rhythm like knock echoes at the home office door. “come in,”

the low rumble of his voice speaks out as his eyes and attention to back on the papers in his grasps. sipping on his black coffee, slightly sweetened in his desired cream and sugar packets, his focus and eyes stick to his paperwork.

the door opens to reveal you, slightly irritated and desperate for attention from your daddy. you were certain with your presence and the way your heels clack against the flooring he would lift his head up. adjust the small glasses on the brink of his nose and acknowledge you, tell you that you look cute today or stop writing all together but it doesn’t spark interest to him at all.

thin spectacles on the brink of his nose, loose curtains of hair rest on the sides of his face. as you take steps closer you can see the worn out exhaustion in his blue hues and the deep darkness of his under eye bags. daddy hasn’t slept great in days, always joining you in bed in the early morning hours and waking before you can. so now knowing that your mission for attention might not be the best idea, you know when your daddy gets like this.

it’s best to leave him work but it wasn’t healthy for him to overwork. it’s stress none stop about getting work done cause it wasn’t good for daddy! and despite you feeling a burn in your belly that you wanted to deny and push aside for him...

even you had your limits of being deprived from his embraces, praises and touches.

a solid three days it’s been that Ari has been glued behind his desk. it irked you how demanding his job was but you had to be his supportive princess, he needed all the support and encouragement. even if it meant to ignore the wetness in between your thighs that needed to be catered and handled by your daddy then so be it...

maybe you can get a bit of attention, a morsel of affirmation from him and you’ll be set to go. maybe you shouldn’t have worn the outfit you have on if you now just want a praise of two but you don’t hesitate to get comfortable. settling in one of the form fitting arm chairs at the far corner of your daddy’s office near the towering bookshelves and his hanged degrees.

admiring how smart and brave your daddy is with his degrees, certificates and honors as you play with the little charm bracelet he gave you. throwing one smooth leg over the other your mini skirt rakes up to reveal your upper thighs but still covering up what little you’re trying to hide. you liked dressing up pretty for daddy and he did to, today was no exception cause you were planning on cheering him up.

when he would finally realize you were here- you roll your eyes as he takes another sip of coffee. taking all your necessities that you stuffed in your Strawberry Shortcake book bag, you laid the elements of entertainment on the coffee table in front of you near the plush armchairs.

one of your lisa frank coloring books being thrown across the expansive wooden tabletop, you take out your bright vivid gel pens and pastel markers from your coloring pouch. and by taking out you unzip the pink pouch and turn it upside down for it all to fall on the table.

the clashing plastic crash of your coloring tools against the polished tabletop alert Ari- his head shooting up as his eyes meet your distanced body uncapping a scented marker and opening a page of the coloring book.

“princess? I didn’t see you, what are you doing here?” his voice breaks as he drops the pen in his hands briefly, softly smiling as he sees your face driven in concentration. his smile deepens when your nose doing the cute little scrunch thing when you’re unsure about something but plan on figuring out.

hair styled in one of your complicated yet sophisticated hairdos, his large sweater he allowed you to wear since the morning still adorns your bodice comfortably. knees bended, he sees them bare but an outline to a crimson red skirt falls on your hips.

it’s a shame Ari couldn’t get up and scoop you up in his arms, play and color with you for a bit without the ball and chain of his work holding him hostage at his desk.

“so now you notice i’m here,” your voice lightly snaps but it’s mellowed as your lips pull into a pout, pulling the strings of his heart. a sense of guilt rises in his chest because he knows he hasn’t been caring for you properly these past few days. without the little moments of meals and getting ready for bed he hasn’t been spending time with you that much.

“don’t be like that princess. daddy just has alot of work to finish-” but you still shake your head, confusing Ari as you cross your arms over your chest.

“but I don’t want daddy to work! daddy works forever! I want special time!” you whine, your eyes tearing up as you slam your hands against the table. making the coloring books, pens and markers quake at your mercy.

at this moment Ari’s at your mercy, and if he permits you to continue this stirring frenzy who knows how much he’s going to spend away from his work to calm you from a potential tantrum. so the words that come out of Ari’s mouth make you hault your next actions of crying and screaming-

the simple notion of, “come here princess, bring your coloring book with you. we can work together,” makes your tears stop falling and your body rising to leap towards him. grabbing your things quickly and making your way to your daddy. it’s now that he sees you in your outfit that has his eyes sticking anywhere else but yours.

a smirk curling your glossy, cherry painted lips you turn around for him so he could see your little ‘outfit’ the flow of your skirt tempting to rise up at the bottom curve of your ass but you’re hoping to save the surprise do what’s underneath it later, “do you like my skirt daddy?” you say, your eyes tracing his and he only but stares at anything else but your eyes.

the rich gleam of your thighs and long legs, the way your chest peaks out through the fabric to his sweater, your tempting glossy lips and those damn heels...

his response is his hands patting down on his thigh, enough to practically make your heart jump at the sight. it’s been that long since you’ve sat on his lap but then again you constantly need to be on it.

a moonlight smile pulls at the corner of his lips when you drop your coloring books and markers on his desk. making sure to not mess up his paperwork with yours, Ari moves his papers to make way for your things.

sighing happily when you settle your bum in between both of his thighs to get comfy. sweet scent of strawberries and cream from your shampoo wafting to his nose and the stark fruitiness of your scented markers mixing with the coffee steam from his mug marry together.

the two of you do your separate jobs peacefully, with the exception of you reaching for his honeypot mug to have a lick of coffee that he tsks at you. moving the mug away from your grabby small hands.

“that’s a big people drink sweet pea. i’ll give you a juice box if you’re thirsty,” but you just shake your head and get right back to shading with your colors.

“daddy may I please play my hello kitty game?” your perky voice starts as you start coloring the detailed tiger cub. emphasizing on the may and please, your daddy was a sucker for good manners and etiquette.

shifting against only his right thigh now, your back hunches to reach the desk with difficulty until he shift to get you comfortable. continuing coloring but your eyes leave once in a while to stare at the keyboard Ari’s fingers clack with each key, “not now princess.” Ari hums and you frown sourly.

the online hello kitty theme park game would be an excellent way to have you distracted as he works but at the same time Ari doesn’t think it’ll be healthy for you to invest that much screen time. and besides he’s working on it, leaning your head on his bicep you let go of that unwanted answer and get back to color tinting and detailing.

Ari files in the margins of the paperwork and writes everything out as you do with your coloring sheets. as the minutes turn into hours, his mug once again being filled with coffee and your sippy cup filled with your juice. you finish coloring page after coloring page and Ari stack after stack of paperwork.

leaving you halfway done with your one hundred and seventy-five page Lisa Frank coloring book and your daddy only one stack of field files. the amount he managed to finish has him impressed of himself and grateful to his special good luck charm sitting perfectly right on his thigh.

“daddy look at all the pages I finished!” you cheer as you pull out the coloring book for him to look over, practically bouncing on his thigh from excitement. the dazzling brightness of your wide toothy smile bringing a large smile to Ari’s face as he takes the coloring book to look over at your hard work.

flipping each page, the drawings and outlined sheets were more colorful and detailed than the last and Ari was indeed speechless and at awe. proud of his creative princess and her clever unique technique with scented markers and glitter gel pens.

“princess these are gorgeous! I have a little artist on my hands don’t I?” Ari grins and his words make the wide smile you have crinkle as your eyes dash away from his flustered.

your bashful state makes Ari chuckle but his eyes don’t pull away to continue analyzing and admiring your work. you indeed did an excellent job at coloring and Ari thought you’d struggle a bit with the detailed sheets of Lisa Frank. the refrigerator tonight will be decorated in these latest masterpieces, he’ll make sure of it.

and you know what? you deserve a reward.

Ari thought and he bends to the side to open the second compartment of his desk just above his organized files. pulling the drawer open, his hands roam over the pens, staples and office supplies in search for the treats.

stopping his short search when his fingers grab the bag of heart shaped lollipops he at times rewarded you when you listened to him extra carefully. he grabs one and brings it up to your eyesight, enjoying how your eyes light up and follow the lollipop with each motion.

starlight eyes widen and focus on the cherry lollipop in your daddy’s grasp then stare up at him again, “is that for me daddy?” you words drip in eagerness, wanting to taste the sugary sweet artificial fruit against your tongue.

Ari’s eyes playfully squint against your mischievous ones, his fingers undo the wrapper and disregard it aside on the desk. wonderstroke eyes looking over the bare heart shaped lollipop, you can smell the tangy cherry and your mouth waters.

although you don’t expect daddy to take the lollipop in his mouth. a pout pulling your lips as you rock against his thigh for a taste and you stop once your daddy takes it out with a smart delightful pop!

“open up for daddy princess,” and you don’t need to be told twice as you open your mouth so Ari could place the heart lolli in your mouth. “tongue out sweet girl,” and you stick your tongue flat out, making Ari smile at your good listening skills.

your glossy lips closing around the sweet candy on a stick, you hum at the sweet taste, “thank you daddy,” Ari simply kisses your forehead before patting your head, getting straight into work.

despite the candy he gave you, you’re still upset he still is ignoring you. by all means you could color as many pages in your coloring book for eternity but they never gave you the same satisfaction then the attention daddy gave you.

being deprived of it, you’ve also been deprived of his cock.

locked away in the depths of your shared bedroom you couldn’t just replace his thick fingers with yours. your pink silicon toys with his cock because they didn’t reach the golden spot he easily could reach. and you couldn’t rub your panty clothed pussy against one of your pillows and pretend it was Ari’s body.

no matter how much you wanted to touch yourself at times- hell you wanted to touch yourself when you were in your playroom this early afternoon. Ari obviously wouldn’t notice since his head was deep in paperwork but you knew you couldn’t break one of his golden rules.

right now daddy was right here, you were sitting on his very lap and compared to him you were a little thing in desperately critical need to be taken care of. your slicked cunt wasn’t going to stop over-examining your daddy’s big arms that caged you in. his large hands that held the pen that looked so small in it as he wrote. his wide muscular chest that you rest your back against.

not to mention the soft and tender caresses of his one hand rubbing your thigh through your fringed scarlet red skirt. soft lips pressing gentle kisses on your hairline here and there along with the scratch of his thick beard. the soft spoken praises he whispered in your ear as you colored quietly for him.

daddy himself made you needy, very needy. because as much as you could sit still and color quietly and be his good girl you desperately wanted to grind your cunt against his thigh.

but then again who were you to ask for permission?

the sudden shift your body has against his thigh doesn’t ring any bells or blast any alarms since he just thinks you’re simply shifting to find a comfortable position.

wandering fingers trace the veins bursting from your daddy’s flexed hands and forearms that grip his pen as he writes. as well as the other that’s hooked around your belly to keep you still, finding the perfect rhythm to roll your hips against ari’s thigh.

holding in a whimper you suck on the lollipop hard, picturing the heart shaped lolli has the tip of his cock but then again it just makes you drip pathetically against your daddy’s thigh even thinking of that. the burning pleasure vibrating at your core as your hips continue to rock onto the denim of your daddy’s jeans. the slick of your pussy soaking your panties and the honey seeps through the crotch of the thin lace thing.

as much as you’re doing a good job at keeping your little sounds to yourself and throwing Ari off at your dirty work as you carry on coloring he isn’t oblivious to the wetness that is drenching his thigh nor your ongoing grind you have on it.

no matter how considerable you told him earlier that you were coloring the page you’re working on for him and how adorable you looked grinding your desperate cunt on his thigh.

you didn’t ask for permission

Ari’s sure if he could lift your body away from his thigh they’re would be a wet patch stained on his jeans. he can hear the sloppiness of your wet folds and slick with each rock your hips have. the smell of your arousal filling his nose, the cherry in your breath as you let out a little whimper. feeling the loose string of your orgasm building in the pit of your belly beginning to tighten as you roll and rock your hips to the lace that makes you melt.

“stop it,” Ari’s low rumble commanded, his hands still writing something but his eyes dash from his work to you. eyes closed and face clouded in lust as you persist your grinding. head and conscious tucked away in your dirty little dream world. Ari doesn’t let the fact that you’re sucking on the lollipop like it’s his cock or the little moans that sound like high pitched hums.

he gave you you’re a reward and he can easily take it away

oblivious of your daddy’s true intention you moan when his hand lands on your head, stroking through your hair until he takes a handful of it and pulls your head back. a gasp escaping your lips, your eyes open and the grind you have on his thigh comes to a crashing stop at the painful tug.

“daddy let go!” you loudly whine. your eyes watering at your ruined orgasm and your hair potentially getting ruined by your daddy’s harsh hold.

another cry escapes your lips when ari pulls your head back even more, causing your back to arch as his breath wafts against your earlobe. “daddy told you to stop, princess. is my little princess a dumb baby or is my little princess too busy fucking herself on daddy’s thigh to listen?”

the coarseness of his remark makes you shiver, a whimper and cry leaving your lips as your eyes water as the hold he has on your hair tightens.

“get your filthy cunt off of my thigh and keep coloring that picture for me. can you do that for me or you going to wander and get lost in that whorish brain of yours?”

rapidly nodding your head up and down and lift your hips over his thigh, your need to please and answer his question quickly makes him chuckle into your hair. although you’re still whimpering and pouting over your ruined hair, you spent all morning making it cute and perfect all for it to be ruined with a single tug from his large hands.

hot bothered breath and searing lips grazing against the shell of your ear causes your wetness to seep and drip onto your rubbing thighs. catching you in the act, Ari’s free hand pulls the skirt above your hips, expecting you to wear some kind of tiny lace panties but you aren’t wearing anything.

blue eyes don’t meet any scandalous undergarment, just your plump ass and your dripping cunt desperate for his touch. desperate for a release and his attention, his hands examine the flimsy material for a skirt that deliciously hugs and covers your hips.

feeling your daddy’s stare on your princess parts, it makes your heart jump and thump when his hands grab at your ass. kneading the flesh of it before gripping the waistline of the cherry red skirt.

“daddy-?” another gasp escapes your lips when a loud tare ripples throughout the room and the weight of cold air hitting your slicked, exposed pussy.

Ari grunts as he takes the fabric of your now ripped skirt and throws it onto the floor without a care, all he wants to see is your pussy. a large hand comes down to slap your ass, enjoying the way it bounces back like it’s a response. it has all the blood and lust flowing down south to his hardening cock.

“do daddy a favor princess and shut the fuck up before daddy makes you,” the threat makes you whimper, the lollipop in your mouth swirling sweetly against your tongue as your daddy pinches and gripes handfuls of your ass. slapping the flesh and watching it bounce, he wants to dig his teeth in your peach flesh.

“take my sweater off. I want nothing on what’s mine. do you understand?” Ari groans in your ear as his hands glide around your hips to dip into your cunt, his fingers stroking your folds and not believeing how wet you are. “oh and princess, the heels stay on,”

whimpering and following his order quickly, grabbing his sweater from the helm and lift the heavy wool material of the sweater above your head. body fully bare and under the heat of his burning glance, you drop the thick article of clothing in your hands on the floor. leaving the heels on as he commanded, feeling the lust filled burn of his stare intensify as you rest your hands together on his knee waiting.

waiting impatiently for the matter for his next command. the smell of the baby oil and sweet strawberry lotion he rubbed on your curves earlier that day hits his nose and he moans. you look, smell and- as he takes his fingers in his mouth and moans- taste like candy.

hearing the sudden sound of a heavy metal buckle of his belt loosen, Ari’s hard cock rises up and hits the hard muscle of his belly. an untamed groan escapes oats his lips when you turn your head over your shoulder to see him rubbing the tip of his cock with his thumb.

those starlight eyes that usually gleam in their faux innocence stare back at the fire in his eyes and you pout. wanting to touch daddy’s cock and taste him on your tongue. but your eyes tear up when he takes his thumb and suck the white cum into his mouth, not leaving enough for you to taste.

it makes you whip your head away from his handsome smug face. Ari doesn’t ignore the sniff out of you as he sets sight of your bare body in front of him. resting your elbows and body weight on the desk your arched back leaves loads of space for him to glide his hands through. running delicious shivers throughout your spine before he slaps your ass again. stinging and burning but your cunt creams in pleasure as you bite your bottom lip.

“my slutty princess wasn’t wearing a bra under daddies sweater? no panties under those scraps for a skirt? fucking knew you looked too good. wanted daddy to find out and ruin your tiny pussy, didn’t you? wanted to distract me from work? nasty little girl thinking she can get what she wants.”

not daring to let out another moan, his hand still gripping your hair loosens as his free hand rises up your waist to pinch a nipple. “answer me slut. you get nothing if you don’t,” his hiss rings and normally you would laugh at him in this state. telling off his stupid hunchmen on the phone as you got all hot and bothered as he yelled at them, making them beg for his forgiveness.

now you’re on the end of that anger; and you don’t mind it one but as his large calloused hands grab the fragments of your ripped skirt on the floor before analyzing your bare body arched pretty and posed for him. in nothing but your big girl heels with your cute lacy white socks, his cock is painfully hard now as the tip paints his abdomen in precum.

“yes daddy. I wanted you to fuck me. I wanted you to stop working because you haven’t touched me and I want cummies! I deserve cummies!” you cry but the words are too sloshed and unreadable from the lollipop in your mouth.

it’s quick that Ari takes the stick and pulls it away from your mouth with a swift and perky pop! a loud whine excludes your lips from his sole action but it’s replaced with a gasp as Ari slaps your mouth, “shut your big brat hole up before I stuff it shut myself,” and you moaned at him, fucking moaned at the threat.

it leaves him just as speechless as you, you’re face wafting in the heat of your embarrassment and you cower when his smirk curls deviously done on you. Ari wants you to cry- God he wants to rip your heart out and bandage it up with his cock

“dumb babies like you get what daddy gives you. nothing else, now grind on daddy’s thigh princess,” his rough command makes you freeze, not even daring to breathe for a second.

wondering if he’s being serious, and it’s as if he could read the confusion buzzing in your head he decides to clear it up. the harsh and stinging spank awakes you from your overthinking session and you get to work. working to gain the same pleasurable friction you were enjoying moments ago.

your hands gripe the edge of his desk till your knuckles bulge out around your soft skin. rocking your hips against the roughness of his jeans, this time no panties are in the way as your slickness flows freely. lubricating your folds and soaking his thigh with your juices, it makes him chuckle when he feels your wetness soak through the fabric onto his thigh. you’re so pretty and obedient he could fuck your till you couldn’t think or stand.

“do you think you can finish your coloring page before you cum princess? show me how good you are at coloring.”

Ari’s artificially sweet remark makes you whimper, just as artificial as the cherry heart lollipop you were licking. not hesitating or wasting a minute, you quickly grab your coloring book and markers and get straight to work.

thankful you didn’t have to color much, one good thing leading you to this moment you could feel your orgasm nearing. the high peak that you’re getting closer and closer to, you want to jump off the cliff and dive into the waves of your pleasure. who knows what daddy would do if you didn’t finish your drawing on time, you needed to fucking cum.

you always got what you fucking wanted regardless what daddy thought, but maybe you spoke to soon-

“please princess, daddy knows you can grind harder on that. show me how much of a slut you are for daddy’s thigh,” you whimper at his command and obey immediately.

grinding harder against him, his teeth biting the soft bit of ear as his fingers roll your hard nipples. slightly wincing and deeply moaning, you can’t help but allow him to make you slip in that space of mindless obedience.

daddy always made you a moaning wet mess, always desperate for his approval and sweet honeyed praises. glassy eyes concentrating on your coloring sheet, it was becoming difficult to focus on coloring as you rocked your hips. trying desperately to withhold your orgasm but desperately trying to please daddy and grinding harder. hot tears springing in your eyes at the havoc situation, you let out a sob as your rock against Ari’s thigh.

Ari only but cooed at you, thumbing away your hot salty tears. “what a little crybaby,” he chuckles through a fake sympathetic smile. fisting his hard slippery cock in one hand as the other crept down to rub your little button. if anything Ari wants more now is for you to cry- it’s getting his cock harder and harder as the tears drip onto the coloring sheet.

“daddy I-I can’t color that fast!” that cry as his thick fingers advancing in their speed and pressure. stroking the puffiness of your folds before brushing against your drenched hole.

taking not a single ounce of regard to your wail, he responds only by pinching your pussy lips. causing you to cry out in sudden pain before he strokes your pussy to calm you. thick digits gathering up your arousal, your folds creating a lewd serenade in the golden tint of his office.

“you can’t color that fast? my stupid little princess doesn’t know how to color quick enough? to color a small stupid drawing before she can cum? huh, princess? answer me!”

there doesn’t need to be any tugging at your hair or harsh slap to your ass for you to quiver against him. Ari- your daddy has a magical way of making you submit with just the ease of his words but you don’t know how to answer him at all but to keep coloring. marshmallow tears streaming down your face like shooting stars, you continue to reach your high your daddy assists you on reaching but denies.

however Ari is noticing that you’re practically almost done coloring the picture, by the time you’re finished you’d probably cum and fufill his order. oh he couldn’t let that happen. his spoiled brat wasn’t gonna cum until he felt she deserved so, which wasn’t gonna be anytime soon if he could do anything about it.

quick hands slap down on your ass, causing the marker in your hand to scribble slightly over the lines. a gasp escaping your lips your bottom lip trembling at the sight and rushing figuring out how to fix it. scarlet heels clacking together, his hands stop tracing the lace of your socks at your ankles.

ravishing in your panicked state, he smirks into your hair. grabbing the lollipop he snatched from you earlier from the desk, taking it into his mouth with a satisfying pop! ignoring your offended and hurt whimpers as your daddy steals your reward away from you due to your clumsiness. it makes your vision blurry and your bottom lip tremble violently, head echoing in only one thought and one thought only-

daddy is so mean, daddy’s a big fat meanie.

your thoughts roar but you didn’t mean to say any of them aloud, you’re so caught up in the moment that you have no idea you did so because now your ass is getting spanked again and again and again and again. all until your peach flesh burns and Ari can see the indents of his fingers on that heart shaped ass he loves so much before bringing his hand back in your hair.

tugging it so your spine suddenly arches back so his lips brush your ear, a gasp escaping your mouth. “I can be meaner princess. you stop coloring and I won’t let you cum. do you understand that? stupid whore.”

the growl rolls off his lips and it just adds onto the sheet of sweats glistening off your skin. tears drop from your lashes as shaky, trembling hands grip the markers as you persist on finishing the coloring page. feeling your body is on fire, your sobbing cunt continues to rock against his loins and the pleasure is almost unbearable you whimper.

the smirk plastered on Ari’s face is sinful, his hands unbutton his shirt to leave his chest bare. golden pendant glistening in the light bulbs of his office. back muscles resting against the leather of his office chair, he strokes his throbbing cock. biting his bottom lip enjoying the naked sight of his desperate slut for a precious princess bouncing and rocking on his thigh.

arms bended calmly behind his head, biceps slightly flexing as he licks on the lollipop he took from you. humming from its sweet taste while imagining it’s the nipples of your tits, his tongue flicking over the heart shape- sucking sharply on it. savoring the sweet cherry taste as his hands graze up to gripe your bouncing tits. savoring in your heavy moans, stiff sniffles and stuttering sobs all on the account of him.

like taking candy from a baby, his baby.

Ari thinks as he watched your ass bounce, sweat glistening off your skin as your heeled feet shake. moving back in your high unaware matter, your ass unintentionally brushes roughly against his balls. causing you to gasp and your daddy to grunt, ordering you to do it again which you do.

suddenly the thought of fucking your other tight hole full of his white ropes of cum takes over his mind but he was enjoying you trying to find a release. “maybe if you color the picture really nice for daddy then daddy will let you cum,”

Ari spoke, his voice soft and tender like always despite the current moments of viscously degrading and name calling you. you’ve always craved this part of him but who knew it would hurt your heart so fucking good with each insult and slap to your heart shaped ass.

although the remark creates a hopeful glisten in your relieved eyes, posture relaxing a bit. you were certain you wouldn’t be able finish it on time but maybe if you focus on making it look pretty- regardless of a few white spaces- daddy would let you have your cummies. Ari would kiss you on your pretty lips and make you undone with the sweetest command.

oh how you craved it this moment it’s bringing more tears to your eyes.

“r-really daddy?” you stutter, imagining the tenseness of his thigh as his cock. squeezing it just right around your walls as your eyes glue on the coloring sheet. grinding your pussy harder onto his jean covered thigh that let’s all your high pitched and stuttering moans flow like honey, “you really mean it?”

a dark glint shines in Ari’s blue hues, taking the lollipop out of his mouth his hand rubs his shaft painfully slow. that thumb that has been teasing your button glides past his weeping tip, his burning blue glance shifting to you. until his hand reaches up, causing you to moan when he grabs a handful of your hair.

oh how he was going to tear his poor princess down after building her a sense of hope.

“no,”

[mysoftboybensolo]

The Princess and the Miller

A/N: In honor of @monsieurbruhl​ reaching 1,000 followers as well because I can’t stop thinking about her post, I decided to make a Tonda one-shot. It deviates a little from the original post, but I hope you all still like it. BTW I haven’t read the book or seen the movie, but after reading up on it, I am going to go with an alternate version of this world. Hope you enjoy.

Pairing: Tonda x Fem!Reader. No use of Y/N.

Warnings: Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluffy Smut, Happy Ending.

You had always been told that when you turned 21, you’d marry a prince. It was a marriage arranged since your infancy, you hadn’t met your betrothed and yet you were in a carriage on your way to his kingdom to marry him. You tried your best to find the best in the situation, tried to get some semblance of an idea of who the man you’d soon call husband, but all you got were very generic answers. He’s speaks several languages, plays many instruments, charming, handsome. But no one told you whether he was kind, generous, or good. Your eyes fell on the greenery whirling past your carriage as you felt your nerves grow.

Silently, you prayed that the prince you’d soon be married to would be kind, that you could learn to love the man and try to have a happy life. Your prayers quickly stopped as suddenly, the carriage had rocked and jumped wildly and then before you knew it, the carriage tipped over and things went black. A pounding in your head was the first thing you clearly knew before your eyes managed to open and focus enough to see the destruction before you. The coachman that was riding with you was trapped beneath the carriage and you could hear the soft whimpering of pain. You stand, though your leg was in great pain, and despite your own weaken state, you tried to help by pushing against the carriage, but to no avail. You looked around and noticed smoke in the sky. Someone lived by, they will help.

Running towards the direction, you press on, despite your own body aching, your head swimming with light headedness, because you had to help. Tired, but you managed to reach a mill, and saw a figure whose back was turned from you. “Excuse me,” your voice low and hoarse. The figure doesn’t hear at first and continues with his work, so you move forward, your body leaning against a pile of wood, which you knock down on accident.

The figure whipped his head around and at first seemed ready to fight but seeing you, blood dripping from your head, your weaken state, made him soften. “Please help,” you manage before passing out.

The next thing you knew, you wake up in a bed, your head bandaged, your leg in a splint and the pain subsided a bit and everything started to slowly come back to you. You try to get up from bed only to be hushed and pushed back gently. “No, don’t get up.”

It’s then do you take a look at your rescuer. He was older than you, can’t be no more than ten years older, but his wavy brown hair which he tied back, to his warm brown eyes and friendly smile made him seem boyish. “The coachman,” you say suddenly, “My carriage had crashed, he needs help,” you say, trying once again to get up.

“Alright,” he says, once again gently, pushing you back down, “I’ll go and see. In which direction did you come from?” You tell him to the best of your knowledge, but your head hurts so much, and you feel as if you want to cry. He offers you a small wooden bowl and brings it to your lips. “Drink. It’ll help with the pain.”

You do as your told, what else did you have to lose? Once he makes sure you drank all of it, he settles you back down and goes to find the carriage. Laying there, you wait and the pain in your head fades, allowing you the chance to wonder what will happen now; will your betrothed start to get worried if you are not there by tomorrow and have a search party sent for you? Will your father when he doesn’t receive word from you? Quite a bit of time goes by before you realize that the man returns, and his face is grave.

“I am sorry miss, but the coachman is dead. He died before I found the carriage.” His brown eyes grow tender with remorse and silently offers sympathy.

You cry, not only because the coachman was a good man you knew growing up, but because you felt completely and utterly alone. How you wished you were home now, wished you never left to be engaged, wished you were with your family now. The man does not say anything to you for a long time, leaves the cottage with a shovel in hand, and you knew what he was going to do. His absence allows you time to grieve, time to accept the situation, and when he returns, he still gives you space, waiting for you to speak first. He tells you he had buried the coachman, but you don’t feel like you could respond without crying, so you remain silent. When you do speak first, it is late in the night before he decides to retire to sleep. 

“What is your name?”

“Tonda.”

“Thank you, Tonda.”

Crying yourself to sleep, you wake and it takes you some time to realize where you are but are quickly comforted by the sight of those same soft brown eyes, sitting by the fire, stirring the pot. “Good morning, did you sleep well?”

“Well enough, I suppose.” He gets up to bring you some porridge, gesturing for you to eat. “Where am I?”

“In my mill, just on the outskirts of Schwarzkollm, a small village, simple, but good. Where were you heading off to, maybe I know a way to get there.” You thought to not tell him the whole truth, withhold your being a princess, but looking into his eyes, you feel as if you can utterly trust him with anything. So, you explain that you were on your way to be married, that your betrothed was expecting you any day and must be worried. He took your being a princess well and instead of acting like everyone else who fell to their knees and dare not look at you, he continued to look at you, like you were an actual human being, not a symbol as your father once described you. “I know the kingdom, it’s a half a day’s ride from here. I’ll take you there as soon as I am sure you are feeling better.”

“Oh, thank you, Tonda! Thank you!” You clasp his hands into yours, a gesture of gratefulness, but somehow the touch made your cheeks grow warm. Perhaps it was because you realized that this was the first time you had been alone with a man that was not your father, perhaps it was because of how close both of your bodies were, or perhaps it was the look in Tonda’s eyes that made your stomach flutter like a million butterflies.

Word quickly spread that Tonda had a visitor in his mill, a young and pretty woman at it too, and people came to know the story, though you asked Tonda to not revel your true identity. Tonda was polite and kind enough to try to hold many of them back, certain it would overwhelm you, especially from the trauma you suffered the day before. But a few older women get by, offering food, clothing, and remedies to help you feel better, and you thank them graciously, knowing they mean well. You become grateful to be alone once again with Tonda, so you could have some peace.

He is gentle when he checks your bandages, cleans the wounds, and reapplies fresh wrappings. “You have only a small cut on your forehead, that’ll heal soon, but your ankle looks very bad,” he observes and you have to agree with him, what with it’s dark purple bruises and deep cuts that even grazing it caused great pains. “Stay off it for as long as you can; the longer you stay still, the quicker it’ll heal.”

You stay in bed, applying ointments and herbs that Tonda and the older women bring to you, while Tonda does his chores as well as trying to care for you. Feeling guilty, you offer to do little things to help, such as peel potatoes and mend clothes, little things you didn’t think mattered, but did mean so much to Tonda.

You wondered how you’d pay him back, especially since he was good enough to grab your trunk from the wreck and brought it to the mill. It wasn’t the clothes or the trinkets you cared about, but your books. Your father took great care to have you educated, to read and write, know your math and history. One day, Tonda noticed you reading and asked about it. “Oh it’s one of my favorites, but then again, I am partial to love stories. I’m almost done with it, you can read it after if you like.”

His cheeks grew red. “Oh, that’s kind of you, but-”

“But what?”

He looks down then admits, “I can’t read.”

You look at him surprised, such a capable and bright man stood before you, and he didn’t know how to read! “Well, how about this? As a way to repay you, I can teach you to read and write in the evenings, and whatever else you’d like to learn. What do you say?”

At first, Tonda tried to refuse, saying that there was no need to repay him, but after arguing that it would be good for him when he does business in the village, he at last accepts.  And so went your life for the next month. During the day, Tonda worked on the mill while you tried your best to help in bed, then in the evenings, you taught Tonda how to read and write. He was a quick learner and so proud of himself that you couldn’t help but to be proud as well.

In the time between, you both came to understand each other. Tonda proved to be a kind, gentle soul who loved animals and children, with a quick wit and a wonderful sense of humor. His father taught him to fight, which you were grateful to hear that he had little cause to use his skills, his mother taught him how to cook, which is why you were always asking for second helpings of his food. He told you how he was orphaned when he was quite young, and had lived on his own since, how while there were times he didn’t mind the peaceful quiet, he struggled with the solitude.

You told him how you understood what he meant, often feeling all alone in the big castle, how your being a middle child and not a boy, your worth was measured in how good of a wife you could one day be. You tell him of your apprehensions of your upcoming marriage, how small and insignificant you feel in this world, especially since there had not been any word on anyone trying to find you.

“No one is insignificant. We all have a reason, a purpose. Even a blade of grass has a purpose, for that blade of grass may very well be shelter to an ant, the nourishment an animal needs to live. You have your purpose, you may not yet know it now, but you will. You’ll mean something great to someone, and they’ll find they can’t live without you.”

Your heart thumps harshly against your chest, the look in his eyes, the tenderness in his voice all touched you so deeply, that you almost forgot to breathe. He turns away from you, looking as if he spoke something he shouldn’t.

The next day, you try to walk. The bruises have gone and the cuts have turned to faint scars, but it is still a little sore. Tonda stands by your side as you attempt to walk and with each attempt, you get further and further. While the sight of you getting better should have been a moment to celebrate, neither of you say the words, but both remember his promise. “I don’t think I am quite healed yet,” you speak before he does, “I think we ought to wait until I am able to walk completely, perhaps another week, just to be sure.” You are grateful when Tonda happily agrees and lets you remain with him.

A week turns to two, and those two turns to four. You learn from him how to work the mill, helping him more and more, going into the village with him, meeting the people properly. You don’t hear the whispers of the villagers, certain that you and Tonda were courting, but it’s perhaps better that you didn’t it would only make things complicated. And still, two months and no word, no sign of either kingdoms looking for you.

Eventually, you dare ask Tonda to take you to your betrothed kingdom. You just have to know what happened, why no one came for you, to let them know you were safe. A flash of pain shoot across his eyes, but being the honorable man he was, he hitched his horse and the two of you rode on. When you did reach the kingdom, you were surprised to see celebrating going on, ribbons everywhere, flower petals falling from the sky, cheers from the crowd.

“Excuse me, what is happening?” Tonda asked a passing villager.

“The prince is married!” said the villager, running off towards the castle.

You and Tonda stare at each other bewildered. Trumpets sound and you see, standing on the balcony is the prince you were to marry, and beside him, your sister, as his bride. The sight is like a stab in the heart, not because you had wanted to marry the prince, but because you knew the truth now. No one came for you because in their eyes, you were dispensable, if not you, another will easily take your place. 

The realization made you break down, sobbing as Tonda took you away, carried you even as you were so overcome with despair. He helps you back on the horse and together, he brings you back to his mill. The entire ride, you are sobbing into his back, holding on to him for dear life, your heart utterly broken. It’s dusk when you return to the mill, and ever the gentleman, Tonda helps you down from the horse and escorts you back in, making a fire when he sees you shiver. “I am so sorry, my princess,” he says at last softly, “They do not deserve you if they think you can be easily replaced like that.”

“I’m just,” you say low and brokenly, as you sit in the closest chair, “Not the blade of grass they needed it seems.”

He quickly kneels before you, taking your hands into his and makes you look into his eyes. “You are more than a blade of grass; you are the sky, the earth and the oceans. You are everything that makes life worth living for, and that prince and your father are fools to not realize that. You mean something great to me, always.”

You stare deep into his soft brown eyes and it hits you. Tonda, the man who rescued you, who cared for you, listened and taught you, you were in love with him. Yes, it was clear now, and the revelation helped to ease the heartbreak. Taking his face into your hands, you reached forward and kissed him. It was gentle at first, beautiful, something you had always read about in the romance stories and it made you both gasp when you parted.

You don’t know who prompted it, you feel as if it was you, but you can't be certain, but what you do know is that Tonda carried you to the bed, clothes stripped from the both of you and for the first time for either for you, you laid down together and carefully learned together these first throes of passion and love. His coarse hands were gentle on your skin, his lips everywhere as if he couldn’t dare part with you, his movements gentle and slow, not wanting to rush this breathtaking moment. He sighs and moans at the feeling of your soft hands running down the planes of his back, combing through his long wavy hair, the soft whimpering of your voice in his ear. 

“I love you,” his speaks desperately, lovingly, hopelessly, “I love you, love you, always.”

Hours later and you stare into the small fire as it slowly diminishes and Tonda curled behind you, sleeping. Today was a whirlwind of emotions, and yet, you couldn’t find it within yourself to feel guilty for how it ended. It stung to think your own father didn’t care, that to the world you were dead. In his sleep, Tonda pulled you closer and nuzzled himself closer to you, making you smile.

Well, you think, perhaps it’s better that the world thinks me dead, to earn this second chance to truly live. And live you did with your sweet miller, happily ever after, in fact.

Tagging those who I think would be interested: @monsieurbruhl​, @creme-bruhlee​, @bruehl​, @neonheart1244​, @justfangirlthingies​, @git-it-got-it-good​, @daniel-bruhhl​, @cazzyimagines​ 

[lockefanfic]

White Silk

Parts One, Two, and Three of this series of oneshots.

-

There were only few moments in your life when you truly cared about the weather.

Once when your much-anticipated camping trip was spent inside your tents hiding from a torrential downpour. Another time when your apartment’s air conditioning broke down during an unprecedented heat wave. A final time when icy roads brought you close to you wrapping your car around a tree.

This was another one of those moments. Outside, what seemed like the storm of the century battered the building relentlessly, turning the day into a dark, stormy mess.

Inside, however, Lee Jieun somehow still managed to shine.

She was utterly beautiful - no, beautiful seemed inadequate to describe the sight. She stands with her back half turned to you, her perfect silhouette framed by the window. And while it is dark and stormy outside, she somehow still manages to glow, her very presence seeming to battle against the gloom that pervaded the rest of the day, seeming to defy it, seeming to tell it “No, your rain and clouds will not dim my brightness.”

She turns when you enter the room - and time slows to a crawl. It was like one of those moments in the movies when the female lead meets the male lead for the first time. As she turns her head, her hair, unstyled and seemingly also unbrushed but somehow still flawless, whips carelessly over her bare shoulder, almost as if in slow motion - a shampoo commercial come to life. 

Wrapped around her lithe, thin frame is a white silk dress. Made of the finest of materials and woven by the most talented of seamstresses, it is almost a work of art in and of itself - but without the young woman on whom it draped it is little more than a useless scrap of overpriced fabric. No, the woman made the dress, and not the other way around. It is she that makes the dress beautiful.

From the second you met her so many years ago you’d thought she was the most beautiful woman you’d ever met - but right now, as a bride on her wedding day, you knew she’d never been more beautiful. All women are beautiful - but on their wedding day they glow just a little brighter.

Jieun’s eyes meet yours. A glimpse of a surprised reaction - one she quickly hides. She opens her mouth to speak, and you expect some eloquent, powerful observation on the storm raging outside, and how it will not affect her spirits.

“I need some fucking alcohol,” she spits.

You smirk a little at her first words of the day to you. She looked like a princess, but sometimes she had the tongue of a sailor.

“Sorry,” you answer as you step towards her, “there’s no bar on the premises, unfortunately, although I hear the reception will have one. Cash bar, though, so best hit up an ATM before arriving.”

Jieun sighs and returns her attention to staring out the window. You feel the room get a little dimmer as she takes her attention away from you.

“Of course not. Nothing today can go right, apparently.”

You stand beside her, staring out the same window at the angry grey skies and the seemingly endless torrential downpour.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she says after a few shared seconds watching the raindrops trace random patterns on the glass.

“You’re not exactly kicking me out.”

Jieun scoffs. “Well everything else today is going horribly wrong so yeah, why the hell not have you show up?”

“What else is going wrong, exactly?”

“The photographer came down with a cold, so the best we can muster is my cousin and his fucking iPhone. The hair and makeup artist I hired is stuck in traffic on the other side of the city and probably won’t make it here on time, which is why I currently look like a fucking college student on the wrong end of a weed bender. The florist thought the wedding was tomorrow, so the only flowers we have are those sad looking almost-dead bouquets from the fucking gas station. Oh, and the reception hall had a goddamn double booking and neglected to tell us that the banquet hall won’t be available until 10pm, once the fucking high school math olympics has finished its awards ceremony!”

You frown. There wasn’t really much you could do to ameliorate the situation.

“Clusterfuck and a half,” you state.

“Clusterfuck and three quarters,” she counters, “coming real close to two full clusterfucks. Compared to all the bullshit that’s already gone down today, yeah, fuck it, you may as well be here, even when you very clearly shouldn’t be. I’m getting married today, if you didn’t notice.”

You glance over to her for the first time, and even though she is currently wearing a frown on her cute little features, you are nonetheless still struck by her beauty. Such a cheesy thing to admit to - being awestruck by a woman. It was something that surely only happened in books and movies and on Netflix; surely in real life no woman could ever be so beautiful as to render a man temporarily physically paralyzed.

But Lee Jieun had a way of doing that to you. She did it when she walked into the busy downtown Korean barbeque place that your mutual friend had dragged her to on that fateful day so many years ago. She did it when she just so happened to sit next to you, and again when she reached out her slim, pale hand and introduced herself with a cute handshake and a blinding smile. 

And she did it every single day you’d met her since. Today was no different, even if it was one of the most important days of her life.

“I overheard one of the bridesmaids saying you weren’t doing so well,” you say. “I had to make sure you were going to make it up the aisle.”

“Well I feel nauseous as fuck at the moment so I might make it up there only to barf all over the goddamn groom when I get to the altar.”

“What a lucky guy.”

“Damn straight. He gets to spend his entire life boning this hot piece,” she says with an exaggerated flourish of her hand over her body that was more sarcastic than serious, a deadpan frown on her face.

“I’m jealous,” you say.

Jieun buries her face in her hands, where she lets out a long sigh.

“Are you sure you don’t have a shot of soju in your jacket or something?”

“No,” you say. “I do have these, though.”

“I swear to god if you’re referring to your balls I’m gonna punch-”

When she lifts her head from her hands, she finds you with your arms wide open and the cheesiest of smiles on your face.

It begins slowly - just a slight crack of an upward tilt at the corners of her mouth, like a small ray of light piercing dark clouds. Eventually her soft pink lips and cute cheeks follow suit, and soon the metaphorical clouds part, her face surrendering to the reluctant smile and short chuckle that she allows to escape her mouth along with an adorable little snort.

She steps forward into your embrace, and you wrap your arms tightly around each other.

“You’ve always been there for me,” she says, her words muffled by your chest.

“I always will be.”

“Even when I’m married?”

“Especially when you’re married. Married guys can be dicks.”

Jieun chuckles again, and the soft vibration of her laugh against your chest makes your heart sing. She presses herself closer against you, as though she were fleeing from the accumulating problems of the day and had just found a hiding spot in your arms.

“How much time do I have?” she asks, barely audible.

“About an hour or so, I’d say,” you reply. Only a few of the guests had arrived and the groomsmen and bridesmaids were occupied with putting out the myriad of little fires that came up during weddings. There was still some time to yourselves before the start of the show.

“Then kiss me,” she says, lifting her head from your chest.

Time slows again. Time moves slowly, almost incrementally slowly, as you bend your head to kiss her.

It felt so wrong, so dangerous - but it also felt so right, so perfect. You should not have been there, not on her wedding day, mere minutes before she was to walk down the aisle. You could have, and perhaps should have, been anywhere but here.

But Jieun had always had that hold over you. You didn’t think yourself whipped for any other woman in your life, but when Jieun called you answered - no questions asked. You hated yourself for it sometimes, hated that a woman could have such overwhelming control over you, could have you wrapped around her finger like she did. 

But one smile - and sometimes, one kiss - was all it took to remind you why you did it: you were in love with her.

The kiss deepens, becoming something more passionate, more needy. Tongues begin to explore familiar mouths and find their counterparts willing and ready to touch and taste. Hands tighten around torsos. Hips press against hips. The bride tries to find solace from a day of ruined plans in the kiss and embrace of a man that meant so much to her.

You are happy to leave it there - merely seeing her was already probably a mistake - but Jieun was never one to stop things she had started. She breaks the kiss and pulls at the back of your head until your mouth is on her neck, and you begin devouring the sweet, pale flesh there with your hungry lips and tongue. She cranes her neck up and back, offering up more of herself to you.

Her hands slip between your bodies to work at your belt, which she quickly undoes.

“Here..?” you manage to gasp in between kisses. She was taking your breath away, again, although this time for another reason.

“Here,” she snaps, as though she were surprised you would even dare to ask, “Everything else is going wrong. I need this now. I need you now. Fuck me like you always do. One last time.”

Before you could say anything further she has you out of your boxers, her slim fingers suddenly cold and chilly around your quickly hardening shaft. Soon she has you at full stiffness. It doesn’t take you long. It never did. Especially not now, given the circumstances. Given the knowledge that the hand wrapped around your shaft and pumping it up and down would soon have a shiny diamond ring on it for the rest of her life.

You groan into her neck as the pleasure she is conjuring inside your body begins to overtake your senses. You feel her cheeks move against the side of your face - a wicked smile on an angel’s lips.

You are content to let her have her way with you, but you are reminded of her request - to fuck her the way you always did. And when you fucked, you were the one in control. Her innocent, girl-next-door exterior belied the fact that she loved to be taken, loved to be called names and used - and you weren’t one to disappoint her, even today, on this most important of days. You hated yourself sometimes for how much control she had over you in your day-to-day life; but you relished the fact that in your most intimate moments the roles were very much reversed.

You bring your hands to her shoulders and turn her around until she is facing the wall. She lets out a gasp of surprise - one that turns into a low moan as you press yourself, and your stiff shaft, against her. She braces herself against the glass, her forearms and palms flat against it.

Your hands, still on her shoulders, trace the top edge of the perfect white dress wrapped around her like a second skin. When they reach the front of her dress, you grasp the top edge and pull downward.

Jieun gasps as you pull the dress down to expose her breasts, and you grin devilishly over her shoulder as you watch her reflection in the glass as her small, perfect round mounds bounce free from their silk prison. Before she can react further your hands are already on them, squeezing them none too gently, enjoying the feel of her body molding itself into your hands, her already stiffened nipples poking between your fingers.

“You gonna let me fuck you on your wedding day, Jieun?” you hiss into her ear.

“Fuck yes,” she hisses, her breath a mist upon the glass, “I want you to fuck me right fucking now.”. She reaches down, pulling her long, flowing skirt up to bunch it around her waist. It takes her a while - her skirt is so long - but soon the pale, perfect round cheeks of her pert little ass are laid bare, your cock pressing impatiently against her lower back. 

You smirk at the sight of her, the perfect little bride on her wedding day, now a wanton, needy little thing, begging for it, begging to be fucked in a dress that was supposed to symbolize her innocence with its pure color. She wasn’t even wearing underwear, as though she knew this would happen, was expecting to be fucked wearing this dress.

“Fuck me,” she snaps, as though every moment you kept her waiting was making her more and more upset. “Fuck me please. I’m so wet for you.”

“Such a slutty little bride,” you observe. ‘So wet and hot already, and I’ve barely touched you.” You pinch her nipples. She sighs. You grin at the sight of her in her pristine white dress, an angel engaged in an act that was not at all angelic.

“Fuck yes. I’m such a slut. Such a slutty little bride. Now fuck me!”

“You want to get fucked against this glass in your pretty little white wedding dress?”

“Mmmm!” Jieun gasps, every sound that leaves her throat dripping now with need, “Please, fuck me now. Fuck this bride’s tight little pussy until you cum in it.”

You let go of her breasts, but not before giving her stiff nubs one last pinch that elicits a sharp gasp from her throat. Your right hand drifts to your cock, you line up your tip with her entrance, and within moments you slip inside Lee Jieun’s body.

You’d had her plenty of times, but today is different - and you wonder if perhaps the circumstances and the sheer audacity of what you were doing somehow added to the way she felt around you. She was slick and hot and wet and so, so very tight. It almost drove you insane to be inside her. Judging by the way her fingers curled against the hard glass, seeking something to claw into as she is filled with your cock - Jieun felt the same.

“Fuck,” she hisses, the curse word leaving her mouth in a breathy sigh. You both take a moment to savor the sensations - hers of being filled, yours of her wet, hot body wrapping itself around your stiff, aching shaft.

You don’t waste any time. You had little to waste, nor did you have any desire to deny yourself the pleasure her body promised. When you withdraw your shaft from between her round cheeks to find it glistening with her juices, you quickly drive yourself back in - this time to the hilt.

Soon you are fucking Lee Jieun against the glass, her naked breasts pressed against it, stiff nipples crushed against the cold surface as she is taken roughly, your cock pumping in and out of her wet, slick pussy at a frantic pace. 

If she had problems with the liberties you were taking on her body she was not showing it. Her reactions told you much the opposite - that she loved each thrust into her needy pussy, loved feeling you piston in and out of her at the quick, hard pace you had set for yourselves.

“Oh my… oh my fucking god,” she hisses, her face pressed now against the glass, a soft mist forming on it with each hot breath that leaves her lips. “Fuck me, fuck me like this.”

You are almost afraid to look down, almost afraid to watch your cock pump in and out of her needy body - but you eventually tear your eyes from her pleasure-stricken face to glance down between your torsos.

Her juices are flowing freely, lathering your stiff shaft with a thick sheen of her slick, glistening  wetness. Her lips grip every inch of your shaft, parting softly to welcome it in with each thrust, grasping it tightly with each withdrawal as though not wanting to let it go. You reach down and squeeze her tight little ass with both hands, filling your hands with her cheeks, parting them slightly to give you a better view of each thrust of your cock into her slick, wet pussy.

“Oh… oh fuck!” she gasps as you reach a new depth, bottoming out your thrusts now as you fill her with every inch of you, filling the mewling young bride as deeply as you could with stiff cock. 

“Fucking take my cock, Jieun,” you snap, bringing your hand up to her chin to tilt it toward you. “Fucking take it.”

“Y-yes! Fuck me… I’m yours. I’m yours!”

The filth of her words, of her submission to you, would have been pleasurable any other time. But now, mere minutes from her marriage - it meant something more, something more perverse - and something more deliciously sinful.

You reach around her torso to grasp a round breast with your free hand, finding her stiff nipple and teasing it at first before pinching and twisting the sensitive bud. You turn her face toward you with the hand on her chin, wanting to watch as every thrust into her body twisted her small, adorable face with little spasms of pleasure. For a few long, delicious minutes you fuck the mewling, squirming young bride against the glass, the pleasure you both found in each others’ bodies far outweighing the filthy wickedness of your act.

“Is your husband going to fuck you like this every single day? Fuck your needy, slutty little pussy whenever he wants?”

“Y-yes!” she manages to gasp, her words interrupted by each thrust of your cock into her juicy pussy, “Yes… whenever… wherever… however he wants!”

“And you want my cum dripping down your legs while you walk down the aisle? While you get married?”

“Yes! Oh fuck please I want it, I want your cum inside me, I want it dripping out of my pussy oh please oh fuck, cum inside me oh fuck cum inside me please, fill my pussy, fill me with cum, fuck me, fuck me, oh, oh I’m cumming, oh--!”

You always dreaded Jieun’s orgasm during sex, because it was so powerful, so overwhelming -  not only for her, but for the both of you. And it usually meant that you came soon after.

Jieun turns into a mewling, quivering mess of flesh, held up against the glass only by your hands on her chin and breast - and the cock still pistoning in and out of her pulsating pussy. You fuck her through her orgasm even as you feel your own beckoning, concentrating on each thrust, pushing yourself as deep as you can inside the young bride before pulling out only far enough to thrust right back inside her.

The random pulsating of her slick pussy, the wordless cries of pleasure brought upon her by her orgasm, and the soft breast in your hand - it all combined to push you dangerously close to the edge. But the thought of it - of fucking this needy young woman mere moments before her wedding - and at her demand, no less - it pushed you right over it.

You push yourself as deep inside her as you can go before you finally allow your orgasm to overtake your senses. Your mind tunnels, becoming focused solely on your pulsating cock as it spurts hot, thick semen deep inside Jieun’s tightly gripping pussy. The bride gasps - a soft, lustful sound - with each rope of cum that splashes into her depths, each stream further adding to the mess you’d made inside her body.

You both spend a long minute trying your best to piece your realities back together after your respective orgasms have shattered it, both reduced to heavily breathing, barely standing masses of suddenly weak flesh. It was a quick little session - not more than a few minutes from her first kiss to your mutual orgasm - but it still left you both exhausted, chests heaving in an attempt to refill lungs drained of air.

You reach up, tilt her chin to yours once more, and you give her a kiss - one that was more affectionate than perhaps either of you were ready for, but one you find her returning willingly and passionately.

Slowly you draw your softening shaft out of her body, and Jieun tries her best to clean herself up and look presentable, doing her best to look as though she didn’t just have rough sex minutes before walking down the aisle.

There is a knock on the door. It opens just wide enough for the maid of honor to poke her head inside - and you are thankful that she didn’t decide to do so a few minutes earlier, lest she catch you fucking the bride against the glass. She gives you a quizzical look.

“Isn’t it bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding?” she asks.

“I think we’ve used up all our bad luck for today, Nayeon,” Jieun answers. “What’s a little more bullshit on top of the shit sundae that is our wedding plans?”

Nayeon frowns, confused by the bride’s nonchalance towards the day’s ruined plans. “Aish. Anyway, the makeup lady is here. And one of the groomsmen managed to track down a photographer. One of you should talk to him.”

“Thank you, Nayeon. We’ll just be a few minutes,” you reply.

The maid of honor gives you both a look before she closes the door behind her.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” Jieun says.

“Me neither.”

“I’ll see you up there. You’re walking down that aisle first. Try not to trip.”

“Try not to drip.”

Jieun gives you a punch in the arm, but her hand lingers there for a moment, before sliding down and grasping your hand in hers.

“I love you,” she says.

“And I, you,” you reply. 

You kiss her, and the peck on the lips turns into a soft but passionate kiss. She gives one last look out the window and the cloudy, stormy weather that continued unabated outside, although it all seemed to matter a little less to the both of you.

“Let’s go get married,” she says, the smile on her lips all the sunshine you ever needed.

-

Author’s Note: Short but hopefully sweet. :) I had to sneak in an “I, you” (IU) reference in there somewhere lol.

So I felt kind of bad about the way Green Silk ended and wanted to have a similar twist but this time with a happy ending lol. Also lol at maid of honor Nayeon, I bet being IU’s maid of honor would be a dream come true for her haha.

[milkbaer]

Eye of the storm

Nikolai Lantsov x Tidemaker!Reader

summary: »In the eye of the storm it’s always the calmest« — love hurts, even more when you met your lover again and things have changed. Especially when faced in battle love only remains a bittersweet memory. wordcount: 2.2k warnings: betrayal, angsty, hurt, „villainous“ reader a/n: played an online escape game yesterday and got inspired by it plot ... or its ending, both could be improved tbh. Bon appetite, i hope you all enjoy it. And thanks again to @sumsebien for helping me edit and finding a name :) ✨

Ravkan words

Milaya — Sweet Girl

Moya lapushka — my darling

His breath tickled your skin until he pressed his lips to your shoulder, you could still feel it, him. Even filled with exhaustion Nikolai couldn’t stop cherishing, loving you. Yourself always felt a bit disgusting, skin sticky and shining, tasting like salt. But he never cared how much you sweat or its reasons, sparing or bed, he simply couldn’t stop caressing your skin with his lips. Suddenly they were pressed flat again your shoulder blade, body laying against yours. You could feel his laugh vibrating through his body before it escaped his lips, light-hearted and true.

„What? Why are you laughing?“ You asked him groggily. But all he did was shaking his blonde messy locks, you never could resist playing with his hair, chuckling. Nikolai only admired you with a cheeky smile, hazel eyes twinkling. Never did he tell you what he found so funny, always keeping it to himself. „Nothing.“

„I am only admiring beauty itself,“ he said.

„How so? I see no mirror.“ Nikolai grinned at your words, pressing his lips to your shoulder blade in a gently but loving kiss.

. . .

„You don’t need to do this Y/N!“ Nikolai yelled, waves splashing around him, hitting the sides of his ship, mirroring his emotions. The sea was enraged, maybe more so than him. Maybe it was your doing, anger and betrayal boiling inside of you by the sight of your former lover pointing his revolver at you, his other hand resting on the holster.

His words were unheard by you, not drowned by the sea but you simply chose to ignore them. „I should’ve known that it was you behind Sturmhond. — That name is ridiculous,“ you spat, arms stretched and hands ready.

„Oh, Y/N there’s no need to hurt my feelings even more,“ he said. If you’d not threaten him with your powers, if there wasn’t the danger of battle, Nikolai would put his hand to his heart and pretend, very theatrically, to be hurt deeply. „My heart‘s already shattered.“

. . .

Head laying on his chest, feeling the beating of his heart underneath you. The steady rhythm calmed you but him telling you the story of a pirate with childish excitement in his voice did more. Looking up, lifting your head from his chest, loving the smile and excitement in his face, you said, „he sounds great, the pirate.“

Since sleep refused coming over you, even though your day had been busy, Nikolai gladly offered to tell his love a story. Not an old tale his nurse used to tell him as a young, tiny princeling. But one of a mighty, and very charming, pirate who loved to trick the rich of Kerch, Fjerda and Ravka alike.

„Privateer,“ Nikolai corrected you. „Not pirate.“

At that you rolled your eyes at him. For you there was no difference, just synonyms for the same occupation. „There’s clearly a difference.“

„Which is, pirates are very sexy and privateers not so much?“ You asked, earning a gasp from him.

„Are you telling me that you’re having a secret liaison with a ruthless, attractive pirate?“

Giggling you shook your head. „A friend lend me a romance novel with a very handsome and charming pirate.“ Nikolai looked at you with judgmental eyes, facetious telling you that he couldn’t believe you read such kinky literature. “Don’t look at me like that,” you said. “I know you read The Princess and The Barbarian. Don’t deny it, I saw a copy of it on your nightstand.”

He chuckled at that, thinking that he should’ve hid the novel in the drawer. Only few people, one could count them on one hand, knew of his love for these novels. Nikolai couldn’t explain it either but after dealing with politics, war and blueprints, these books were a nice alternative. “They’re not lewd, it’s fantastical romantic literature and very entertaining, you should try it too.”

“Hmm, maybe after you finish telling me your privateer story.”

He needn’t have been told twice. Smoothly, he continued the story where you had interrupted him, as if nothing had happened. By the smile on his face you, no, everybody even the king, could tell that Nikolai enjoyed this story. There was nothing but pure joy on his face, childlike enthusiasm. When he ended his magnificent tale, you smiled. “I think I like him, your privateer.”

“Oh, I bet you would. You know, he’s just like me, very charming and incredibly handsome.”

Playfully you scoffed, patting his chest lightly. “Don’t flatter yourself, honey.”

. . .

But it was all but a sweet, painful memory. Remembering his story, you should’ve known that he was behind Sturmhond and nobody else. Back then he had practically told you everything about the privateer, the tale and Sturmhond were almost identical. When he told you the story to make you fall asleep had he already made his plans to abandon Ravka, to leave his love behind all for a teal frock and the sea?

“You don’t understand, bastard prince,” you sneered, knowing very well that it hurt him when the one he loved referred to him as mongrel. It was easy for him to shake it off if his enemies called him like that, fuelling the rumours of Nikolai not being a Lantsov at all. But when someone familiar, someone you trusted and loved called you that, it stung. “You would never understand. I do this for Ravka, for the Grisha! No one should ever live in fear because they are gifted!”

“Y/N you’re right, no one should live in fear!” Nikolai gripped his revolver, secured in its holster, tighter when the ship wavered dangerously by your power. Not only did the true sea portray his emotions very well, they also captured yours perfectly, getting influenced by your anger. “But you’re not doing it for Ravka. This will not bring peace, not for the Grisha and not for Ravka! The only winner is the Darkling and he doesn’t care for you or our country!”

You scoffed, believing none of the lies your former love told you. “Do you? Do you care for this country?”

He wanted to say yes. Of course he cared for Ravka, its people and for you. But you left him gaping like a fish, stifling his words before he could even utter them. “No, you don’t. You left Ravka to do what? Play pirate? We’re at war and all you do is sail the sea to annoy rich men. Do you call that caring? Did you ever care about–“

“Milaya.” Sweet girl, you hadn’t heard that word in ages, not from him. Nikolai put his hands up, showing you slowly how he put his revolve back into its holster. He stood there barehanded in front of you with both hurt and anger portrayed on his face.

It was ridiculous, but that one word, one of his stupid words he used to call you, had thrown you off completely. After all that time, weeks and months of not hearing anything of him, thinking he had forgotten you, leaving you behind as if you meant nothing, he dared to use this stupid word?

Your fingers twitched; a wave of newfound pain raged through you. Without much ado, you let the sea crash against the ship’s side making Nikolai tumble in surprise and fall to his knee.

“You’ve no right to call me that!”

. . .

The warmth of the sun grazed you skin while the wind tickled it with moving grass. You shielded your eyes from the sun, tilting your head to look at the blonde prince on your right, who enjoyed the kisses from the blazing star. He looked absolutely beautiful, perfect and calm, truly like the heroes from fairy tales. It sounded cheesy, especially when you thought about that Nikolai would say the exact same about you, but you could watch him for hours. “I’ve read your book, it is really good.”

With a grin he looked at you with one eye. “Have I promised too much? I told you it’s fantastical romance literature.”

You giggled. “It is way better than I thought, really entertaining.”

“I can’t believe you hadn’t read it before,” he said, propping himself up with one arm and grinning cheekily at you. “But now that you know it, we can certainly reenact some scenes.” It was highly possible and believable that Nikolai would try out some of its scenes. He even would let you be the barbarian. Laughing and snorting you hit his chest, and he couldn’t help but to laugh along with you.

More time passed with you laughing and just laying beside each other, enjoying each other’s company. But when the clouds began to wind up, (big and fluffy but clouds nonetheless) their shadows on your face, you began to wonder. He was a prince and you Grisha. As beautiful as it was, this wasn’t meant to last.

“Sobachka,” you mumbled.

“Da, moya lapushka?”

“Will you miss me?” You asked, starring into the sky and watching the clouds slowly moving by. Nikolai didn’t know what has suddenly come over you, you didn’t know either which wave had hit you, but you didn’t dare look at him.

“Depends on where you are going,” he said nonchalant. “You’re the thief of my heart. I miss you the second you’re not by my side.”

Your heart felt heavy in your chest, imagining a life without him or seeing him in the arms of another made you want to cry. But your future was laid out like this. Nikolai was a prince, and you were a soldier of the second army, a tidemaker not a princess or diplomat’s daughter. You could serve Ravka only in one way. “I know tidemakers aren’t as useful on the field as heartrenders, inferni or squallers. And there’s a higher chance for you to die by assassination or as a solider…”

Nikolai looked at you, he knew where this was going, he knew what you were saying, and he didn’t like it. Even as the second heir to the Ravkan throne he sadly knew that he wasn’t holding the strings for his future love life. But he hated to think about it. Hated to think about you and him not being together, about you dying. Already he feared that enough.

“I know we don’t have a future together, but–” you began to sob. “I miss you. I will miss you from my grave if I have to.”

“Milaya,” Nikolai whispered, gently wiping your tears away. “Lapushka.” He took your hand in his, gently kissing it, letting his lips travel from one knuckle to another. “I miss you. I always do and I certainly don’t intend to leave you. So don’t rack your pretty head about it.”

. . .

Quickly Nikolai extended a hand but not to stop you, it was meant for his crew. It was crazy, he must have lost his mind but for now, he did not want anyone to interfere. Not even the twins were set into action, even though their power could end this tragedy in a second.

Nikolai tried to regain his balance on the madly swaying ship, knowing it was all your doing. When he finally could stand on both of his legs again, he slowly moved forward, step by step. Only for you to have him fall down again with another strong wave. He shouldn’t have but he felt proud of you, admiring your power and the way you could held yourself steady on your feet. “Y/N, love, I never intended–“

“Don’t call me that!” You shrieked, sending him back to the floor when he tried to get up again.

“I never intended to leave you.” Nikolai knew he couldn’t say that he hadn’t left you. Well, he hadn’t abandoned you. Not on purpose. When he got send to Ketterdam he swore to do the things lovers do, to send letters. First, he wrote you almost daily, mostly raving about how huge the university and interesting the city was, but also how boring classes were. Even when he got no letter in return, he kept writing, telling you monthly about his adventures on the sea only to forget it. Life as a privateer had been busy.

“Saints, stop telling lies!” You raised your arms, hands ready for the final blow. Your heart ached, still longing for the boy kneeling before you. But he had dumped you, left you in the palace, on the battlefield to play privateer. The Darkling had been right, he felt nothing for you. How would he ever understand what it felt like to be Grisha?

Finally, the tears you had been holding back for so long began to pour, streaming down your cheeks in sorrow and rage. “Don’t paint me as the villain! Everything I do, I do it for Ravka.”

“You never were the villain, love.“ His words got devoured by the sea. Blinded by your rage and pain, you let two big waves ravage over the ship’s deck, right where Nikolai stood. You couldn’t see much, your eyes grew heavy, tired, until they fell shut. The storm inside your heart was calming down, arms feeling weighty as tons. With a scowl you noticed too late that this must be the work of a heartrender, calming your heart until you fell asleep, like a raged child. The world grew dark around you, sedative and warm, letting you slip into dreamland and not even make you question why you were still alive.

[chrisevansjellybeans]

Ransom x fem!Reader

Warnings: none (yet) some swearing

Part One

You’ve never wanted to punch somebody in the face so bad until you met Ransom Drysdale. The smug, arrogant, jerk-face had been a thorn in your side since grade school. You both grew up in the Boston area, your parents sending you to the same private schools all the way through high school. You had run in similar crowds but no matter how much your mutual friends tried to get the two of you to get along you never could. For good reason though.

Your family owned and operated Cloak and Dagger Publishing, the direct rival of Ransom’s family’s publishing house, Blood Like Wine. Unlike you and Ransom, your families liked to keep the rivalry in business and not in life. Your father, Jackson Y/L/N and Harlan Thrombey were actually great friends who just liked to rib each other when it came to business, but were proud of the other’s success regardless.

But for some reason you and Ransom could never get to that level of friendship. And you weren’t in any rush to fix that.

Especially when he was pulling shit like this.

You groaned as you opened the door to your office only to see the smirking son of a bitch sitting in your chair, feet propped up on the desk and your favorite fountain pen twirling between his fingers.

“Maria, you’re fired.” You joked to your assistant who nervously looked at you from her desk right outside your door.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N! He just-”

“It’s fine. I know.” You sighed before walking fully into your office, letting the door close behind you.

“Good morning, honey.” Ransom’s voice was sickly sweet.

“Is it?” You snapped. You walked around your desk and pushed his feet off. “Get up.”

“You’re not being very kind to your guest, Y/N. What would dear daddy say about your terrible manners?” Ransom teased but stood up nonetheless. You glared up at him as he stood to his full height.

“Guests are usually wanted and invited, Ransom. Neither of which you are.”

“Honey, you hurt me.” Ransom feigned pain as he gripped his chest. You wanted to stomp your expensive Manolo Blahniks on his toes every time he called you that. It started your junior year of high school and maybe if it was anyone else you would have thought it was a term of endearment but he said it in such a condescending tone you knew it was anything but.

“What do you want, Drysdale?” You let out an exasperated breath.

“Is it so hard to believe that I just wanted to visit an old friend?”

“Ransom, please. Unlike some people I actually have work to do.” You moved around him and sat down, pulling out your laptop. You looked up at him as he watched you with intense blue eyes that made your stomach flutter, annoyingly so.

“I’m actually here for business and not pleasure, honey.” He smirked as he sat down at the chair across from you. “I’m here to formally and personally invite you to Bleeding Hearts.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Bleeding Hearts was the Thrombey annual charity gala that they hosted at Harlan’s expansive, hidden mansion. Your parents had been going every year since Harlan first hosted it and you had started going about five years ago. You would never tell Ransom, but you loved Bleeding Hearts. It gave you an excuse to wear a beautiful ball gown-albeit rented-and to feel like a beautiful princess like the ones you had read about growing up. Harlan always hired a full orchestra to play the most beautiful classical pieces throughout the night and it was like stepping into a time machine. You didn’t understand why Ransom had to come all the way down to your office just to invite you to something that you were already going to.

“I’ve already had Maria send in my RSVP and donation, Ransom. So thank you for the courtesy, but it really wasn’t needed.” You rubbed at your temples, a tension headache now forming from all this ‘excitement’ so early in the morning. And before you’ve even had a sip of your coffee.

“I know. And you gave a nice amount this year. Did daddy finally up your monthly allowance?” He smirked.

Just one punch. Just one and then I’ll be satisfied. Technically he’s trespassing, it could be called self defense.

“Goodbye, Ransom.” You blocked him out as you opened your email and began typing away. You got about two sentences out before you felt your laptop being shut against your hands.

“I wasn’t done.” Ransom whispered, you didn’t realize how close he was until you looked up. He was now leaning over your desk, one hand on your laptop and one hand on the edge of the desk closest to you.

“Shame.”

“I’m here to ask if you wanted to come...as my date.” You snorted out a laugh and laughed even harder as a look of annoyance crossed over his face. He stood up and straightened out his shirt almost nervously.

“God, you’re funny. Now please leave. You’ve already wasted so much of my time with this little joke.” You rolled your eyes as you opened your laptop again.

“I wasn’t kidding, Y/N.” His words were sharp and his eyes blazing.

“Neither was I. Get out of my office, Ransom. Or I will call security.” You glared right back at him.

Ransom looked like he was about to say something but decided against it. He tapped his fingers against your desk and gave you a mock salute.

“See ya around, honey.”

“Close the door on your way out.” You muttered.

You clenched your fists as he left your office, leaving your door wide open. You could hear him laughing his ass all the way down the hall.

Damn you, Ransom Drysdale.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. He just kind of walked in.” Maria rushed into your office, almost tripping over her far too high heels.

“Ria, it’s fine. I know how he is.” You waved her off, giving her a sympathetic smile. “Please, don’t worry about it.”

“Okay…” she said nervously. When you gave her another reassuring smile she relaxed her shoulders. “I have to say though, he is really sexy.”

“Maria.” You sighed. “Get out.”

“Sorry.” She squeaked before exiting your office, closing the door fully.

You leaned back in your chair and let out a long breath. How had today already been the longest day and it wasn’t even nine?

“Good afternoon, sweetheart.”

“Good afternoon, dad.” You smiled as your father snuck his way into your office.

You and your dad had always been close. When you were younger he called you his “little shadow” because you loved to follow him around throughout his day. You would sit in on meetings and you loved when he would let you pretend to lead the team briefings in the morning. It was only natural that you would follow in his footsteps and work for Cloak and Dagger.

Your father always pushed you to be your best. He didn’t let you take shortcuts to get where you were today in the company. You worked your way up and proved your worth and made your father proud.

“What’s this I hear of Ransom Drysdale stopping in this morning?” He sat down across from you.

You rolled your eyes. “Because he doesn’t have anything better to do than irritate me.”

Your father laughed as he slid in his glasses up to the top of his head and then pinched the bridge of his nose. “You two have been fighting like cats and dogs since you were kids. Will this feud between the two of you ever end? And can it be soon? I made a bet with Harlan that you two would finally stop by the time you were twenty-five.”

“Glad to see that my torture has been amusement for you and your little buddy.”

“Just teasing, sugar plum.”

“Please, let’s talk about anything else besides Ransom Drysdale. I’m begging you.” You gave him a warning look over the top of your computer.

“Fine by me.” He clapped his hands together and leaned forward. “How’s it going with Brooke Archer? Has she committed to C&D yet?”

Brooke Archer was an upcoming mystery novelist. Critics called her “the Agatha Cristie of our time” and rightfully so. You had read her first two novels and finished them within a day, completely entranced by her style of writing that had you guessing till the end. She was notoriously self-publishing but now that her books were blowing up she had finally made the decision to sign with a major publishing house. And your father had tasked you with landing her.

“I have a lunch meeting with her tomorrow. I think this could be the closing meeting.” You said confidently.

“Good. I’m proud of you, sugar plum.” He tapped his fingers on your desk. “And please text your mother back. She’s freaking out over what to make for dinner tonight.”

Confused, you pulled your phone out of your bag. You sighed when you saw that you had thirteen missed texts from your lovable but definitely eccentric mother.

“You’d think she’d know what I like by now.” You joked.

“What can I say, she’s a perfectionist.” You dad laughed before saying goodbye and exiting your office.

As you were typing out a response your phone dinged with a new message.

I hope you’re thinking about my proposal from earlier. Wasn’t kidding around this time honey.

Your thumbs hovered over the screen. How the hell had Ransom even gotten your number?

And like I said earlier, neither was I. The answer is no.

He responded only seconds later:

No ugly colors, don’t want to clash with my suit.

You had to give it to him, the man had tenacity.

You’re annoying.

Ransom only responded with a winky face. You shook your head as you exited his chat and went back to responding to your mother, barely noticing the smile that was covering your face thinking of that annoyingly handsome pain in your ass.

[friendlyneighborhoodcapricorn]

hii!! okay hi cool sO if it’s not too much trouble could i get a preferably male mcu/tasmv matchup please?<3

m'names hero:) (she/her) and my friends usually call me rosie or ro--and i'm an entp/enfj if you're in the mbti stuff

as appearances go I’m 5’1 and I’m Italian, english, and asian. i’m a bit tan, ‘ve got light brown hair with bangs and considerablyy big, brown eyes. now cough I hope m’not coming off as shallow but I’m really proud of my body? work really rather hard on it and I quite like showing it off from time to time— as should everyone, we’re all hot shit ;) i breathe sundresses, usually wear little bows in my hair, and I wear my grandmother’s pearls 25/8 they make me feel like a pRINCESS

I have the tightest core friend group of 3 including myself— they’re my soulmates, really, we met at a museum and everything. In the literal sense I have no problem with conversation in general it’s my favorite thing I could talk about absolutely anything. if I ever meet a cute boy tho.. dear god it’s over me I’m a blushing mess— moreover my love language(s) are physical touch, words of affirmation, and gift giving (I like things that reflect how proper beautiful I am sue me💅)

I write poems and short stories, and i play guitar and sing, i’ve actually won a few awards for that, and uh I’ve probably read a good couple hundred books in my life time— I like to think I have near perfect vision but my friends say I’m damn near blind— and I’ve only really read the classics.

I’m a huge movie buff too, again I’m a classics fiend *but* my current favourites are Juno and Matilda— unfortunately my parents passed their respective individuality complexes onto me it’s been quite the ride

uhhh what else- i’m the top of my class and my school’s first asian vice president!! yay!!! And oH I don’t really have a type, I just know charisma is so, so painfully attractive, and I love a good height difference but who doesn’t ;)

lots and lots of love please don’t feel any pressure in answering this quickly or at all (i'm so sorry this was so very long) I’m in no rush luv you <33

I love your name by the way, reminds me of Laurie from little women:)

You're the sweetest omg! You mentioned wanting a matchup for the mcu and tmr in a follow-up, so I'll be doing that :) Ro is an absolutely amazing nickname, btw!

This took a while, I'm so sorry for that! I hope you still enjoy it regardless!

For the MCU, I match you with...

Steve Rogers/Captain America

You’re in charge of catching him up on movies he missed while he was busy being a popsicle.

Even though you weren't from the forties, there was something about you that immediately put him at ease. Almost a sense of familiarity in this strange millenium.

The first time he ever hears you sing, his jaw quite literally drops. He goes full goldfish-mode for a few seconds, and it's as endearing as it is funny.

Dates can be anything from going to a museum, getting dinner at some fancy restaurant, or just sitting quietly on the couch together while you both read.

Steve can use the occasional words of affirmation. On a day-to-day basis, he's a pretty confident guy, but during missions he can have a tendency to second-guess himself. It helps having you around because even when he feels like he can't trust his own judgement, he knows he can trust yours.

Newt

Let's say you two met because you were both working in the "gardens". The Glade is only so big, however, so you probably saw each other around before that. But you really started talking in the gardens.

Newt is an easy-going guy, but he does know pretty much everything that's going on in the Glade. He knows how you're always up for conversation, so he tries to take that opportunity.

And then finds it incredibly endearing when you turn into a stuttering mess.

There really isn't much to do for fun around the Glade, but singing happens to be one of them. Well, if Wicked is kind enough to let you remember any songs. In case they do, Newt has definitely asked you to sing for him -and then tried to learn the song himself. He's a horrible singer though.

You can't really go on dates because again: the Glade is pretty small. But Newt will wake you up in the middle of the night to sneak off into the woods, only to reveal he's planned the most romantic moonlit picnic.

This is long overdue, but I hope you still enjoyed it! Thank you for requesting and have a lovely day/night <3