#(but he is actually smirking because he is being served a feast for free)

[coolnonsenseworld]

(it's a continuation of previous posts about the calendar)

For March Lance voted to do some tree hugging and grass touching in a constantly busy world of trying to pass exams and earn money and they had a picnic for an entire day. Keith wholeheartedly agreed, but also felt like it’s way too cheesy. Still, Lance didn’t even have to win him over with sushi. Sushi was just a nice surprise. When Lance reports back to Hunk how his Saturday went using the phrase "dancing underneath the moonlight", Hunk opts out of the details. Lance tries to explain it’s not an euphemism, but Hunk just politely reminds him he can keep speaking just. No. Details. (he does that a lot when Lance starts gushing about Keith)

[nanagoswife]

Noticing You, Noticing Me

Chapter Eight

Summary: More soft moments between reader and Obi-Wan as they enjoy being back together

W/C: 3.5k

Warnings: Not smut, but there is some intimacy? Not really though? Idk😅

- - -

Apparently, everyone knew about Obi-Wan’s arrival except for you. Anakin and Padmé were just the ones who participated.

As you walked through the halls, basically clinging to his arm, he laid his free hand on top of one of yours as he told you.

“I had also been talking with Anakin these last months, albeit, not as often as I was with you.” He paused to smile at you, gently squeezing your hand. “When I found out of my plans to come here, I wanted to find a way to surprise you. Then, Anakin came to mind.”

“Let me guess. You asked Anakin, then Anakin asked Padmé, and then Anakin told you what she had said.”

Obi-Wan smirked. “Sometimes I forget how well you know your brother.”

A small sense of pride filled you with that.

“But yes, that’s what happened. Of course I had first written to your parents about a few things. They were more than happy to hear that I could make my way over after so long. I think it was something about how their daughter was quite taken with me.”

He looked down at you with that cheeky smile once again. You shook your head and giggled as you lightly pushed him, only sending him slightly off balance.

His laugh filled the halls as he regained his steady pace.

“I do believe that she is quite taken with the prince of Coruscant. The princess couldn’t be happier.”

Obi-Wan’s crystal blue eyes stared into yours while he smiled. Slowly, he brought the two of you to a stop in front of one of the windows. The light of the sun reflected perfectly in his eyes.

When he turned to face you, both of your hands ended up in his one. Although you loved the feeling, you took one hand away to bring it to his cheek. A small giggle bubbled its way out of you at the feel of his beard as he leaned into your touch. The well trimmed hairs were scratchy but in the most delightful way.

Your eyes couldn’t leave his even if you wanted to. The sight of him like this held all of your attention as you slowly dragged your hand down to rest on his chest.

The fact that both of you were leaning in went hardly noticed. It felt so natural that you paid no mind to it. It was only as you were that few centimeters away from the other’s lips that you realized, but you didn’t pull away. No, this was something the two of you had come so close to once before, yet it now had a different meaning. This was more deserved than before.

You were so close until footsteps could be heard from the other end of the hall. Obi-Wan huffed out a sigh of annoyance but didn’t make any movement to pull away from your proximity.

“We really need to find a more private place,” he whispered, causing you to chuckle,

“If I remember correctly, not even that worked, Obi.”

All he did was groan and roll his eyes as his shoulders slumped. “You unfortunately make a good point, my dear.”

You chuckled before the person arrived in your area. When you turned to greet them, it was Varlo. Maybe it was your eyes just playing tricks on you, but he seemed absolutely miserable. More than he had been in the last two months, anyways. Apparently not having the popularity that he used to have was weighing on him more than you had thought.

“Good afternoon, Varlo,” Obi-Wan greeted with a bow from just behind you. As he did, you saw that a small piece of his hair fell out of place. He did nothing to put it back, though, as he stood up.

“Prince Kenobi,” he greeted briskly with a stiff bow.

He seemed rigid in his greeting. Had something gone wrong in a dispute? You weren’t super into the politics of your kingdom as he was, so you didn’t know what possibly could make him like this.

Varlo’s jaw seemed tense, like he was clenching it.

“Is everything alright?” you asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. You could feel Obi-Wan shift uncomfortably behind you. Whatever was going on with Varlo was unsettling him just like it was for you.

“Hm? Oh, yes, I apologize. Just something occupying my mind. Anyways, I really came here to find you to tell you that our parents are putting together a small feast in honour of your arrival, Prince Kenobi.”

“Please, call me Obi-Wan. And thank you. I’ll be sure to thank them later although it’s highly unnecessary.”

“Oh but it is,” you cut in, flashing him a smile.

Obi-Wan chuckled. “Alright, alright. If you say so.”

“I’ll leave you two be. But, Y/N, I should mention that mom is putting this together. So, be prepared,” Varlo said with a playful smile.

You knew exactly what he meant. Whenever your mother would go into planning mode, she always made it the best. If it weren’t for the fact that Obi-Wan had told them before arriving, you would’ve assumed they only had a day's notice. In that case, it would be more toned down. Knowing that she had known well in advance, well, it would be extravagant.

Both you and Obi-Wan said your goodbyes to your brother before he turned away.

“Well, what shall we do until dinner?” Obi-Wan asked when your brother was far enough down the hall. Before you answered, you brushed those few strands of hair back into place.

“Have you unpacked yet?” You turned to look at him, seeing him shake his head no. “Why don’t we do that, then.”

His smile grew even more before offering you his elbow. “Sounds like a plan.”

-

At first, Obi-Wan felt a slight bit awkward. The last time he had a girl in his room, that wasn’t his mother, was Satine. Nothing had happened between them other than simple conversations.

With you, he was a little nervous. He wanted a life with you. Unlike with Satine, he felt like he could see himself with you for the rest of his life. Every part of him was drawn to you in a way that he had never felt in his life.

As the time went on though with you helping him where you could, it felt just as natural as everything else. Obi-Wan could feel himself relax more and more as the time passed.

By the time he had finished, you were sitting at the foot of the bed. Despite his insistence, you refused to make yourself more comfortable further up the bed. Instead you stayed where you were, intently listening to his ramblings. Some were stories from your time apart, others were just simply him muttering his thoughts.

Nothing changed though. You sat and listened, occasionally chiming in at certain details.

Once Obi-Wan was done, he sat beside you. It didn’t take long to find your hand so that he could intertwine his fingers with yours.

“So,” he started, “did that take all the time we had or is there still time?”

You giggled as you leaned against his shoulder. “I’m sure we have some time. Besides, who says we can’t be fashionably late?”

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows and tilted his head in curiosity. “Is there something your brilliant mind is working up?”

He watched as your cheeks flushed as you smiled coyly.

“Not really. But I did have an idea for after dinner.”

“And what might that be?”

You looked up at him, your cheeks burning an even darker shade than before. You opened your mouth to talk, but closed it before looking away again. It confused him.

“Darling?”

“Never mind,” you said quietly.

“If you think I would say no to whatever your plan is, I’m sure you’re wrong,” he said encouragingly. His free hand came up and turned your face towards him with his index. “What is it?”

When you stumbled over your words, he let his fingers trail along your jawline before cupping your cheek. It was a gesture to comfort you in your doubt, and it seemed to work. He could feel as the tension in your shoulders eased. Even the grip you had on his hand relaxed.

“I- I was thinking maybe… we could come back here after. Together,” you said. Quickly, you continue before he could react, “Not to do anything like, you know. Just to… sleep. And I was wondering if we could read that poetry book that we never finished that night because it was so beautiful and-”

Obi-Wan gently hushed you with a soft call of your name before you’d go into an endless ramble. “Yes,” he said in a breath. “Yes to all of it. Whatever you wish.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

He felt you relax further against him. Almost on instinct, he wrapped an arm around you to pull you closer, pressing a kiss against your temple.

“Now, shall we head down to the feast your mother has put together?”

Chuckling, you lightly pushed off of Obi-Wan to sit up. “Are you sure you’re ready? She never goes halfway with these sorts of things.”

“Always.”

-

“Ok, so I may have underestimated what Queen Breha had planned,” Obi-Wan said with a sheepish chuckle.

What your mother had planned had even surprised you. All of the servants had been dressed in their best. The dining table was set to feed three times the amount of your group. The seven of you hardly made a dent in it all.

When it came to decorations, you would’ve thought that you would’ve been serving every king and queen there was. Yes, you were a part of a royal family, but you had never dined in such a fancy setup. You had thought your normal setup was over the top, but you were dead wrong.

Even Obi-Wan had seemed overwhelmed by it all. The enthusiastic call from your brother had distracted both you and Obi-Wan from your surroundings.

Apparently, despite actually arriving in time, the two of you were the last to arrive. Everyone else greeted you enthusiastically when you sat down after Obi-Wan pulled out your chair.

Varlo didn’t though. Like he was earlier, he had seemed preoccupied. That kept up during the whole meal. You didn’t pay much mind to it as your parents, Anakin, and Padmé all started a conversation lasting the whole meal.

Once you were all stuffed to the brim, Varlo had left. He said that he had something to attend to, yet he wouldn’t say what.

For the rest of you, the conversations continued as the servants all cleared the table without incident. Even if there were, it wouldn’t be a huge deal. Most of them you knew quite well, and so did your mother. They were all good people who strove to do their best in their role. You always smiled whenever you heard how happy they really were.

“Even I underestimated what she would do,” you replied, squeezing his hand gently as you walked down the hall to the sitting room that contained the poetry book.

Normally, your arm would be linked with his, but you didn’t feel like being that formal. You guessed he felt that same as he reciprocated the action without any protest. If he had said anything about it, you were sure that it would only be about how his thoughts were going down the same path as yours.

When you had gotten to the room you needed, you told Obi-Wan to wait as you quickly ran in to grab the poetry book. After you did, you resumed your hand holding all the way to your room first to change and grab some things.

You had disappeared behind your changing screen as he observed your room. There wasn’t much in your room. A few books on the shelf beside your desk, the satchel which held all of his letters that sat on the floor still next to your desk, your bed, and your changing screen.

Everything was going well until you were unable to undo the back of your dress. No matter how hard you tried, each attempt was met by failure.

There was no other choice other than to ask Obi-Wan to help.

Stepping out from behind the screen, you saw him looking out of your window. He had one arm across his chest while his other elbow rested against it as he stroked his beard. It looked as if he was lost in thought only to briefly smile to himself.

“Obi,” you called out. You hated to break his train of thought, but the longer this took, the longer it would be until you could get on with the night’s plan.

He turned towards you, looking slightly confused when you were still in the same lavender dress as before.

“I can’t get it undone, and I… I was wondering if you could help,” you said as you looked at the floor. It felt strange asking this of him. At the same time, it thrilled you. Nervousness took over in the end.

Obi-Wan walked over to you, taking your hands in his. He gently squeezed them in a silent question asking you to look at him. “Only if you want me to.”

You nodded. With a comforting smile, he led you back behind your screen. Turning around for him, his hands worked on the ties at your back. Each lace up your back slowly loosened as he made his way up, letting his fingers graze against your back.

As he made his way up, you couldn’t stop the shiver that went through you as his hand ghosted the bare part of your back. When he was done, he placed his hands on your shoulders, finger slightly under the material of the dress.

The sensation was one you had never felt before as his hands began trailing outwards, bringing the fabric with it. A part of you wanted him to continue, but you knew it was better when he had paused his gentle caresses.

“I’m sorry. I- I’ll let you get changed.”

“It’s alright, Obi,” you said as you turned to face him. “And thank you.”

With a shy smile, he went back to the main area of your room. A part of you wished you could’ve continued, but now wasn’t the time for that. Hell, you hadn’t even kissed yet.

Either way, you pushed it aside as you finished getting ready. Your sleep gown was much more comfortable than your dress. You wondered what Obi-Wan would think of the light blue gown that flowed more and was far less constricting.

-

When you walked out after changing, Obi-Wan’s breath hitched for what felt like the hundredth time today. He knew night gowns were nothing special, but you just looked so… beautiful.

The simpleness of it caught his eye immediately. Yes, you looked amazing in all of your day gowns, but this was just a new level he didn’t know was possible.

He must’ve muttered something about it because your cheeks turned flushed as you took on a demure stance.

Finally gaining some sense, he cleared his throat before speaking, “Shall we continue the evening?”

You nodded, walking over to him before taking his hand to make your way to his room. Although it was no secret that the two of you were together, you had to make sure you weren’t seen. People would most likely assume that something other than what you truly were doing would be happening.

The only people that were told were Anakin and Padmé. They had told you that they would make sure that no one saw either of you. Specifically in the morning. The plan was that Anakin would make sure the hall was clear as Padmé would come get you and escort you to your room. Of everyone, they knew that Obi-Wan wouldn’t take advantage of you. Plus, with your friend knowing of the night you and Obi-Wan had first read this book, she was quick to believe your true plans.

Thankfully, the hall was clear all the way to his room.

Obi-Wan had removed his jacket rather quickly, exposing his white tunic that lay underneath. There was a small area where his chest was slightly exposed, revealing hairs there that matched the colour of his beard.

A small part of you wanted to have the kind of courage that he did and unlace the top of his tunic for him, to feel some of the skin on his chest. That courage wasn’t there. Not a single part of you could muster up the ability to ask, but you didn’t need to. Obi-Wan had caught the way you were looking at him.

Taking a few steps to close the distance between you, he took your hands in his.

“It’s alright,” he said, placing one of your hands on his chest near the ties. “You can if you want. You don’t have to.”

His voice was quiet and soothing. That courage you thought you would never have? It was there now, slowly crawling out as he encouraged you.

Along with his comforting words, you moved your fingers to where the lace laid. With a shakiness, you brought your other hand up to help undo the knot. Before you could start untying it, he placed his hand on top of yours, squeezing gently for comfort.

“Relax,” he whispered. “You don’t have to do this. Stop whenever you like.”

As he took his hand off of the two of yours, the final bit of courage filled you. Slowly, you untied the lace, loosening it until even more of his chest was exposed.

For a moment, you let your fingers graze over the exposed skin and hair. The golden curls on his chest made you smile as you briefly rubbed his chest.

This time, you gained even more confidence as you then let your hands glide down to his torso. Something in you wanted to see more, to feel more, but you weren’t sure if it was the best decision.

When your hands reached his waist, you stopped. Looking back into his eyes, nothing but warmth and sureness radiated from them.

“Go ahead. Like I said earlier, anything for you.”

You let out a shaky breath, gaining even more reassurance from Obi-Wan as you looked in his eyes. So, you let your hands clench the material of his shirt, pulling it up until he lifted his arms, letting the shirt fall to the ground.

You let your eyes explore the surface of his skin, noting every scar until you reached out to trace them all. He told you how many were from training, others from a battle years ago when a random group who wanted to dethrone his father attacked.

-

He worked hard to keep his breathing controlled as your hands explored the surface of his skin. Despite this, Obi-Wan knew that if you felt over his heart that you would be able to feel it racing.

As you traced over his scars, he couldn’t help but let his eyes fall closed. The thoughts that began to run through his mind were becoming intrusive. He didn’t want to rush into anything with you, though. What he didn’t want to do was scare you off and that meant having to keep this all under control.

Plus, he didn’t want to wreck your reputation. Something like this could ruin you, and that’s not what he wanted. You were doing so much good for your people. If they thought any less of you than they do now, he wouldn’t know how he would live with himself.

Instead, he closed his eyes so that he could quell the feeling of desire he felt for you. It was working too, until you reached his shoulders, trailing towards his collar bone.

Nothing could keep his breathing from picking up. The closer you came to his collarbone, the more he felt his want for you. But he wouldn’t let it happen. Not unless you wanted to, and you already had said that you wanted this to be purely just an innocent night. Just reading and sleeping.

So, he shifted slightly, taking a sharp intake of breath as your hand traced his collarbone.

-

This exploration lasted a few minutes as you looked over his freckles that were scattered across his shoulders. Obi-Wan took a deep breath as you traced his collar bone, shifting slightly.

“I-I’m sorry,” you said, pausing your exploration. “Did I go too far?”

“What? No, of course not,” he said quickly to reassure you. “No, it’s just… maybe we should read now.”

Nodding, you went over to the bed. Obi-Wan joined you not long after.

After getting settled under the sheets, the two of you went into a familiar position like the night in front of the fireplace. Only this time, you didn’t stay awake long, falling asleep against Obi-Wan’s bare chest.

Everything, his warmth, the sound of his voice, the comfort of the bed, it all made you drowsy. Obi-Wan noticed and encouraged you, “Go to sleep, my dear. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

- - -

@stardancerluv @where-fantasy-meets-reality @jaydenwoo @madmax2003 @mackycat11 @generousrunawaydonut @imabeautifulbutterfly @animalgirl05 @blondekel77 @thereluctantherosrose @cosmicsierra @badbatch-simp24

[jotunn-loki]

may i feel?

FANDOM: mcu/marvel PAIRING: loki/reader RATING: explicit, NS// FW!! WC: 5,900 WARNINGS/K¡NKS: fem!reader, virginity k!nk, oral, food, social anxiety, voice k!nk, soft!loki, light angst, fluff, servant/prince

SUMMARY: You are a servant of the royal family of Asgard. After an embarrassing incident at one of Thor's revels, Prince Loki finds a way to make it up to you.

A/N: This was originally posted on ao3 a couple months ago under my username MavenMorozova (not linking it because tumblr will mess it up--), but support it there if you’d like:)

You were spread out on the large, plush bed, dark green sheets billowing with the slight breeze around you. Well, really, it was less of a bed and more of an outdoor sofa, or maybe something in-between the two, with a dark wood canopy from which hung slightly sheer curtains the same color as the sheets you lay upon. There were pillows, too, blue and black and gold, that contrasted the green quite nicely. It was a pleasant design, and that made it all the more relaxing.

Loki had always had an eye for design and the aesthetics of a space. You could tell, as you were sure everyone could, the way that he dressed was impeccable, and his wardrobe stuck to a theme that looked rather good on him. Green. It was clear too that his chambers in the Asgardian royal palace were decorated in a similar fashion. It suited him, really.

Losing your focus on the moment in the thoughts swirling in your head about design and coloring and everything else, you let your neck muscles relax and sank your head into the pillow under it. Loki would be here soon, you reminded yourself, and the thought sent a shiver down your spine. You knew what would occur when he arrived, for he had whispered the idea into your ear during the revelries today.

As usual, Thor had basked in his glory, shouting and pounding on the table and shaking his fists in the air as he roared. Loki had been his typical self as well, smiling at his brother from the corner of the room as he happily drank from his goblet. And you’d been there, too, a mere serving-girl, indulgently filling all their chalices as the warriors ceremoniously tossed them on the floor with a shout. It was one of the few moments that you felt relaxed, even though you were technically just doing your job, and that was because you were amidst all the joy and excitement of the best and brightest of all of Asgard. They were the sun, and you were the moon that clung to its stubborn orbit.

Out of nowhere, Loki had locked eyes with you. His gaze had been surprisingly intense, tracking you as you moved quickly over to him with your refilling bottle. But when you had lifted it, a question in your gaze, he had simply smirked and shaken his head. “You don’t wish for more wine, Your Highness?” you had asked.

Loki shook his head again. “I just wanted to get a good look at you,” he admitted, voice soft. “You are beautiful, as you must know.”

At his words, you blushed and looked down, lowering the bottle of dark wine slightly. “Your compliment is most appreciated, Your Highness, but—”

Loki shushed you, placing a finger to his lips, still smiling. You wondered if he was slightly tipsy, but then again, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was, rather more so if he was not. “Please accept my gift to you, my dear.”

Your brows furrowed. “Gift, Your Highness?”

“My compliment,” he replied with a snicker. His eyes roved up and down your body once ever so slowly, and you couldn’t help flushing again. The back of your collar was suddenly quite hot, and you adjusted your neck slightly to give it air.

Then, suddenly, he was closer, and somehow it was now you with your back pressed against the wall instead of him, gasping as he took your hand and lifted it to his mouth. “Your hands are rather smooth for a servant, young one,” Loki whispered.

A chill skittered across your shoulders and you swallowed tightly. “I-I’m new, Your Highness.” You couldn’t help but feel a tinge of apprehension as you said it. The feeling he was eliciting from you now was pleasing, to say the least, and you certainly desired more, but you couldn’t risk losing your position within the royal palace. You were nothing but a servant, and he was a prince, a god. No consequences would be inflicted upon him, and you were sure that you would receive the brunt of it. So taking in a short breath, you scooted away from him along the wall, wine bottle still in your hand. “I apologize, but I cannot, my prince.”

Loki’s lips thinned, but he said nothing else. As you walked away, you were sure that would be the last of him, but you hadn’t even made it two steps before a familiar voice called, “Wait!” and a long-fingered hand closed itself around your wrist, jerking you back around to face him. You stumbled and tripped and suddenly, with a great lurch of dismay, the wine bottle in your free hand tipped and fell, spilling over your uniform and splashing on Loki’s armor.

You stood there for a moment, stunned, mouth slightly agape. This was...not the way you had planned for the night to go. You were meant to secondhandedly enjoy the revelries, then retreat to your own quarters and catch up on some much-needed sleep, for the Asgardian warriors had been feasting and partying for days now, and you had been there each night, dutiful as always.

It was not meant to be like this. Not like the slick embarrassment that felt like cold oil being poured over your face and down your skin. Not your uniform ruined and all of Asgard’s greatest warriors, including the crown prince himself, the mighty Thor, staring at you, right at you. You gulped, feeling the familiar feeling of anxiety creeping through your chest. You couldn’t breathe, much less think. All you could see were the faces of gods and warriors before you, so polished and powerful and— You were, you were…

“Carry on,” called a low voice beside you, and with a start, you looked over to see that Loki had addressed his peers with a raised eyebrow. You saw him exchange a glance with Thor, and with a nod, the God of Thunder broke into a large smile, banging his goblet on the table. “So who wants to hear how I defeated the rogue Jötunn on Vanaheim?”

Around him, his mates cheered, and you felt yourself audibly sigh with relief when their attentions turned away from you. But there was still one person leftover.

“I’m…so sorry,” Loki said from beside you. He did look truly regretful; his forehead was knit together in a series of frustrated lines, he was still, and for once, unsmiling, and you could see that his teeth gently bit his upper lip. But you didn’t know how to respond, so you simply leaned down to pick up the wine bottle that had fallen, averting your gaze from his.

“I can make it up to you, perhaps?” Loki said slyly, his voice nearly a question, and you shot up again, knuckles turning white around the bottle’s neck. The implications of his words lingered in your brain, but hadn’t that same weakness been what had gotten you into this situation in the first place? “Prince Loki, I cannot, as you know,” you said to him softly, not wanting to anger him. “I cannot lose my position. It is...unprofessional of me to indulge you in this way.”

Loki’s lips thinned, though there was a hint of amusement still dancing within his blue eyes. “What if I could persuade you otherwise?”

You swallowed. He was very close to you now, hand drifting from your wrist around to the small of your back. The sensation of his hands was intoxicating, and you couldn’t deny that you’d had fantasies about lying with the God of Mischief before. It was just...could you, in all actuality, fulfill it?

Loki sighed when he saw your persistent hesitation. “My dear, what is your name?”

You told him quietly, embarrassed that he even wanted to know, that he even cared.

He repeated it softly to himself, letting the delightful syllables roll around his silver tongue. “You will not get into trouble, I promise,” he then said, pulling you closer. The back of your neck was hot again, and you could feel the touch of his hand acutely where it lay, fingers pressing into your skin.

Slowly, you looked up at him, meeting his eyes again. You had never been so close to one of the designated “gods” of Asgard before, and you couldn’t help but worry that you were going to stumble again and mess it all up. “Alright,” you finally said, so quietly that you could barely hear yourself speak.

“What’s that?” Loki asked, a teasing smirk on his mouth.

“I will allow you to, um—”

Loki leaned into you, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Fuck you? Ravish you until you beg for me to come inside of you?” he whispered in a low, needy voice. At the sound of it, you released the tiniest of moans, and Loki chuckled into your ear. “You want this more than you are letting on, don’t you?” he asked wickedly, and you nodded despite your so-called honorable intentions.

Loki pulled away, his face blank like the exchange between the two of you had not just happened. “My chambers need cleaning, servant,” he said authoritatively, chin rising in the air as he eyed you from an angle, gauging your reaction. You narrowed your eyes at him, but you could feel a smile creeping onto your lips. “Of course, Your Highness.”

You turned to go, but Loki nearly spun you into his arms again as he grabbed you, whispering one last thing into your ear before you could go. “There will be a private maid there to assist you,” he said, and though you weren’t sure exactly what he meant, you nodded.

“Go,” he ordered, and you did, still clutching the empty wine bottle, with its contents all over your uniform’s dress. Loki would join you in his chambers, then, after he had excused himself from the party and shaken off the loud braggings of his brother.

So you had wandered your way to the most coveted part of the castle, the place where all the servants whispered of. The royal chambers of the Allfather, Queen Frigga, and the two heartstopping princes, Thor and Loki. The Gods of Thunder and Mischief. It was all quite daunting, especially since you’d heard anecdotes from a few of your peers, bragging of their sexual encounters with one of the princes or the other. Thor took more lovers than Loki ever did, or so it was said, but the ones who came back from Loki’s chambers always seemed to have a different type of aura surrounding them than those from Thor’s chambers. It was said that Thor was demanding and rough, but that Loki was passionate and gentle, even sometimes imperious, but in a different sort of way than Thor was. You had always laughed at that, wondering how a person could be all three, and in such different varieties. But then again, you were a virgin, and who were you to assume how sex worked?

So really, you were ready for anything as you made your way to Loki’s chambers.

When you reached the great double doors of polished oak that led the way into his drawing-room, you paused and knocked, quietly first, and then louder when your first knock brought no results. Almost immediately, a woman opened the doors, her petite figure dressed in Loki’s signature shade of green, and her eyes crinkled with age. “Welcome, my dear. Prince Loki did mention you would arrive.”

Your mouth fell open slightly. “What—he—?”

She held up her wrist, where a golden communication device caught the light of the candles that lit the room. Candles. They weren’t necessary; they hadn’t been needed for thousands of years. But they were something else— romantic. Loki was doing this for you.

“Do you need help with those clothes?” the servant asked, breaking you from your thoughts, and you nodded thankfully, setting down the wine bottle that you still were holding on the foot table that sat between two opposite-facing sofas.

“What is your name, my lady?” you asked her as she helped you removed your red-soaked uniform and place it into a laundry basket. She hummed for a moment, but then you saw her smile. “Estrid,” she said quietly, as if her name was a spell instead of just something to call her. You could sense that there was something about her that was more than she seemed, but it wasn’t really your place to pry.

“Well, thank you, Estrid,” you said to her, and you meant it with all the sincerity in your heart. You had been so mortified earlier, and feeling this older woman’s hands on your shoulders and around you like the embrace of a kindly mother was ever so comforting. “I really do appreciate it.”

“Of course, darling,” she said in reply with a twinkle in her eye, and as you stood naked before her, you suddenly remembered the purpose of your visit. Yet again, you felt that familiar heat flush your face and neck. “I, um—do you have—”

“Something to wear?” Estrid finished with a smile curling her lips. She left the room and emerged again with a long, silky green robe and simple black undergarments. You felt your face flush at the intimacy of the way they looked, even more so when you realized the intricacy of the designs on the bralette and underwear. There was lightly perceptible golden embroidery on the hems and on the lace that spanned the back of them. It was sexy, unlike anything you were used to. You had never owned anything this luxurious.

Estrid seemed unphased, though that only served to elevate your apprehension. So you addressed her. “Does the prince...often do this? Provide this luxury to low-level servants and promise them mind-numbing sex?” You were a little afraid to hear the answer.

Estrid paused from where she was unfolding the green robe, thinking for a moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she shrugged and motioned for you to turn around so she could lace your arms through the robe’s sleeves. “Yes and no,” Estrid said evasively as she did so. “Loki takes lovers, yes, though not often. He is good at it, too.” She sighed. “I hope this doesn’t upset you, darling. I mean...this is something everyone knows.”

“I know,” you said a little too quickly. “I have friends who have slept with him. I’ve heard the stories.” It was said that though Loki was passive in Asgardian politics and deferred to his brother in general, the same could not be said for his actions in bed.

“Then you must also know that it is essential for him to sleep with someone at least once a moon,” Estrid said tentatively.

You stared at her. “What?” you asked. It wasn’t that it was a lot, quite the contrary, in fact, but just the fact that it was a “necessity” at all.

“He is the God of Mischief, love,” Estrid replied with a smirk. You could suddenly see now why Loki had chosen her to be his personal servant. She was just as charming as he was, if in a slightly different way. You didn’t feel the same enigmatic pull to her that you felt to Loki, but she was clever, and she was smart. You admired that about her already. “You do see where I’m heading, do you not?”

You nodded slowly. Mischief. Sex. It made sense that he’d need the latter to enhance his title and position. “I understand it,” you said to her after a moment. “I suppose it was just nice to feel special for a moment, before realizing that this is as common as it is.” You swallowed, biting back what you wanted to add on, that you had wanted your first time to be with someone who loved you, not just needed someone to fuck.

“Oh, but I wouldn’t be sure it is quite as you’re thinking, darling,” Estrid said with a smile, noticing your discomfort. “Loki has taken lovers, yes, but rarely has he provided any with...all of this.” She gestured at the lingerie you were now wearing and swept her arm around. You noticed that suddenly, a lavish amount of food had appeared, mostly desserts, and lots of chocolate, which was your favorite. How had he known? Well—it was a common trait, really, but still, you had no idea how all of this food could appear at once. It simply wasn’t possible.

“An illusion, dear,” Estrid explained, stepping up beside you and taking a chocolate-covered strawberry in her fingers. She popped it into her mouth and sighed with delight. “You will love these.”

“Thank you,” you said again, overwhelmed, but this time in a good sort of way.

Estrid wrapped her arms around you and gave you a quick squeeze. “You can talk to me anytime at all, do you understand?” she said sternly, and you were reminded again of how many years she was your senior. You laughed and nodded, and only when you wandered out onto the terrace did she finally slip from Loki’s chambers, disappearing into the hallway.

So that is where you were now, lying on the soft silky dark green sheets of the outdoor sofa-bed, enjoying the cool breeze that rushed over your mostly bare skin. No, this had not been the night you had planned at all. But you were sure that it would be a delightful one nonetheless.

***

Loki arrived not soon after you had laid down, creaking his chamber doors open quietly and striding through the length of the drawing-room out to the terrace, which is where he was sure you would be. When he saw you stretched out on the chaise for him, legs spread just a little apart, and barely wearing anything as you stared up at the night sky, he felt himself become aroused. You were so beautiful, all laid out for him like the illusionary feast he had prepared for you in his chambers. He wanted to take you and yet savor you at the same time.

From where you lay, you saw Loki approach you, saw the hunger in his gaze. He was just as needy as Estrid had warned, so you knew that you would need to speak to him before things slipped out of hand.

“Your Highness?” you asked tentatively as he crawled over you on the chaise, playing with the soft bits of your hair. “I must tell you—”

“Loki,” he interrupted, and for a moment you were confused, but then he was kissing you on your forehead, and then, his meaning was perfectly clear. “I want you to call me Loki,” he said, nearly growling. “Please.”

“Alright,” you said, nodding. “But it is important that you know...I’ve never—this is—” You broke off, unsure of how to confess to him, but Loki seemed to understand immediately. “This is your first time,” he said, his words in a firm statement like he already knew. You nodded warily, but Loki’s grin only widened. “I will make this worth it for you, darling,” he murmured into your ear, before nipping it slightly. You let out an unseemly moan at the little bit of contact he had just made, and Loki laughed as you did. “Yet again, you surprise me, little one,” he said, “just as you did at the revel.”

Your eyelashes fluttered and you looked up at him, mouth parted slightly. Was this really happening. Were you really about to be fucked by the prince, the God of Mischief? Loki Odinson?

“I sense doubt within you, young one,” Loki said, frowning.

“This is new to me,” you admitted, and with a breath, told him of the same worry that you had expressed to Estrid what seemed like just a moment ago. “Are you going to just leave me, discarded?” you finally asked him.

Loki seemed rather offended at the suggestion, his already-thin cheeks thinning further as he sucked in a breath and lay down at your side. He was silent for a long moment, and for just a second, you wondered if he was actually asleep. But when you turned to look at him, you could see that his eyes were staring up to the numerous stars and he almost looked scared. Hesitantly, you asked, “What is it?”

Loki turned his head to look at you, and when the breeze blew across his face, a few strands of his long black locks fell into across his cheeks, such a stark contrast to his pale skin. He was beautiful, and it took your breath away. “I want to keep all of you,” he said softly, and the breeze almost snatched it away from you, but you grasped onto the words nevertheless, desperate to hear them. You needed to know. You needed him to want you fully.

“All of me?” you asked.

“Every single one of you,” Loki whispered, and you could have sworn that his voice broke. “I never have wanted to use any of you in the way I have. But I cannot do that.” When he saw the beginnings of protest bubbling in your eyes, he shushed you, placing a finger to your lips. Where his skin touched them, a tingling feeling remained, craving more of him. “It’s hard to explain, darling.”

Reluctantly, you nodded.

“I want you to know that this will not mean nothing to me,” Loki continued in a whisper, bringing a hand to caress your cheek. It was surprisingly cool, and in the warmth of the night, you felt yourself leaning into it gently. “And I want to apologize for what happened earlier.”

Your cheeks warmed again in the memory of the wine incident at Thor’s feast and revel. You didn’t want to think about it. “Then do what you promised,” you told him, surprising yourself with your assertiveness. Loki, fortunately, did not seem to mind, instead smirking and shifting himself so that he was on top of you. He leaned down to whisper in your ear as he had done before. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Ravenous,” you replied, voice almost a moan. You remembered the chocolate-covered strawberry that Estrid had shown you, and felt a sudden craving for it now.

Loki smiled as he remembered his little trick, and climbed off of you to summon his illusionary food. It came to you all at once, hovering in the air around you so that you could choose.

It was lovely, then. Loki fed you each strawberry one by one, and you moaned as each tiny fruit disappeared into your mouth. Estrid had been right; they were divine indeed.

“You have such a pretty mouth,” Loki murmured as you ate the final strawberry. He leaned forward and brushed the pad of his thumb over your lip, gathering a stray chocolate stain and sucking it off his finger...slowly, seductively. You swallowed. You wanted those fingers in your mouth, or even better, in your pussy.

“Not so fast, my dear,” Loki said then, as if he had sensed your thoughts. You flushed, and as he licked the last bit of chocolate from his finger, he pressed his lips to yours. Sighing against him, you allowed your mouth to open for his tongue, and with a small bit of amusement, you realized that you could still taste the chocolate in his mouth.

“You taste heavenly,” Loki mumbled into your mouth, and that made you groan, hands fisting in his long hair. You had never truly kissed someone this way before, and it was even better than you had imagined.

“Are you ready to move to the bed?” Loki asked after a moment, his voice gentle. Slowly, you nodded.

“Inside or outside?” he asked.

You thought for a moment. “Outside, right here on this chaise,” you told him, gesturing to the bed-like sofa that you had been lying on. “Please.”

Loki’s lips turned upward and he scooped you into his arms, carrying you over to the chaise in a few steps and laying you down with the utmost gentleness. He then stood over you, eyes lingering on all your generous parts: the swell of each of your lovely breasts and the soft, pillowy plane that was your stomach. Even the way that the curve of your ass was on full display, as you lay slightly on your side. Seeing his eyes lingering there, you stuck out your ass even further, lip jutting into a pout.

At that, Loki’s eyes filled black with lust, and he had to try hard not to fuck you right there, the little virginous whore that you were for him. Taking a deep breath, he latched a finger around the hem of your black lacy panties and ran the tip of it along the inside. You moaned at his proximity, and Loki felt his cock twitch in recognition of the sound. “Like that, young one?” he asked, voice low.

Quickly, you nodded. You did need him, just as he needed you.

Smirking mischievously, Loki shucked off his layers of gold-and-green armor, leaving it in a pile at his feet. Now he was only in a dark sweater-like material and tight leggings that left nothing to the imagination. You could see the tent his cock had formed in his pants, and you sucked in a breath at the sight of it. This was real. This was actually real.

“Lay back, sweetheart,” Loki whispered as he kissed your forehead again. “Relax, now.” His lips slowly moved to yours, and you moaned into the passionate kiss he gave you. It was a hungry kiss, a kiss that begged for more, and you wanted it all. His hands swept along your back, and even through the green robe you wore, you could feel the coolness there. It was almost unnatural, that chill, but you didn’t mind; it only made the God of Mischief all the more enticing.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Loki edged the strap of lace that held up your bralette off of your shoulder, and you let him kiss your clavicle there. His lips were soft on your skin, and you shivered. “Loki…”

“Yes, darling?”

You really didn’t know what to say. You just wanted...more. Faster. There was a fire building in the pit of your belly and you wanted to toss it a log, but Loki was insistent on layering the kindling. When you didn’t respond, he smiled at you, eyes narrowed with knowing, and whispered your name softly. “Patience, patience…”

You nodded reluctantly, and your eyes fluttered shut as his lips slowly moved across your collarbones and his hands pulled the green robe from your shoulders and arms. All of it was so light; you had not expected this at all. Loki was a prince and a god, and you had expected someone like him to be more...out of control? No, that was not it. But certainly not as gentle as he was currently holding you.

A minute later, your bralette was removed from your chest, and your breasts shone on full display for him in the moonlight. “ Beautiful,” Loki whispered, and you blushed. Loki raised an eyebrow. “You will have to get used to that particular word, my dear.”

Then his lips were back on your body, more insistent this time as he sucked at the skin around each of your breasts. You moaned as his tongue slowly encircled your areola and flicked at your nipple. As he did so, he gave your other breast a squeeze and you yelped.

“Too much?” Loki asked, but you shook your head fervently. “Keep going,” you whispered, pushing your body to him. “Please, Loki.”

“As you wish, darling,” he murmured in reply, returning to his task. You could feel yourself trembling with want, with need, as he stimulated your hardened nipples. And then— oh.

His hand had moved to that sensitive spot between your legs, and through the thin fabric of your panties, you could feel acutely every movement that he made. “Loki,” you moaned, causing him to grin amidst the ministrations of his delightful tongue. He pulled away from your breast and stared up at you, at the building ecstasy in your eyes. “You are already so wet, little one.” Smirking, he held up his hand. Sure enough, it was coated with the juices of your pussy, and that only made you moan further. “Loki, please—”

Loki gave a few scolding clicks of his tongue, but otherwise seemed unphased, his hand reaching into your underwear and fingers pressing to your clit. You gasped as they began to work in little circles, bucking into his hand. “Loki!” you shouted, clutching at his shoulders for stability. It wasn’t that you were new to the feeling, for you had pleased yourself in this way on many occasions, but when someone else was doing it—the fucking God of Mischief, Prince of Asgard —it was a wholly different experience.

“So wet for me,” Loki mumbled into your tit, pulling at your hard nipple with his teeth. You whined at the heady feeling of it, for combined with the finger that was now slipping into your cunt, this was nearly Valhalla itself.

“Please,” you moaned, not even sure what you were crying out for. “Please, Loki, ahh—”

But he suddenly stopped, hanging you over the precipice of something, something lovely and powerful and why had he stopped?

“Loki!” you screamed, nails raking through his black hair, but he only snickered at your frustration. “The best is yet to come, my dear.”

Then his hand was skimming your ass, touching your skin through the thin lace. You ground yourself into it, but Loki only laughed further. He suddenly yanked the scrap of fabric from you in one quick movement, and for the first time, you began to see the hunger truly rise within him, deep and powerful and full of passion.

You were interrupted from your thoughts by a wave of feeling that washed over you in an instant: Loki had just dragged his tongue down your torso and had his mouth clamped over the tightly wound bud of your sex, kissing it furiously. Your eyes rolled back; you were caught in his touch, his mouth, his tongue. Furiously you scratched your hands into his shirt, pulling the fabric upwards. “Loki!” you cried, panting. “Oh, Loki, please—”

But he pulled away again, and you let out a whine. The smirk unfolding across Loki’s face was unbearable, made even more arousing by the fact that his mouth was coated in your wetness.

He slowly stood, eyes staying on yours the entire time. His cock was undeniably hard now, and from the wetness that could be seen soaking through his leggings, you could tell that he’d been stroking himself as he administered to your needs. Narrowing his eyes and lifting his chin at you, Loki pulled off his shirt, revealing a slightly-toned abdomen, and stepped out of his pants, his cock springing free, long, pulsing, and tinged with an odd sort of color. Blue? Your mouth watered at the sight of it, but Loki had other plans for you tonight.

“This is going to hurt,” he told you, petting your hair gently, “but I promise to be gentle.”

Taking in a deep breath, you nodded. “I’m ready,” you told him firmly.

With a twinkle in his eye, Loki delivered a quick kiss to your lips, and you could taste yourself on him, but it didn’t last long, for he was then pulling away again, lining his dick up to your cunt. Slowly he pushed into you, groaning, and you were struck by how much more painful it was than you had imagined. “Fuck,” you cursed, clutching Loki’s arms.

He kissed you gently, pulling at your lip just a little as he sunk in deeper, then pausing to allow you to adjust to the foreign feeling. “Shall I continue?”

“Please,” you said, your voice coming out as little more than a squeak, and Loki lowered himself further, stopping when he reached his base. He sighed as he lay on top of you, hand coming to your face to wipe away the few tears that had sprung to your eyes. “It’s alright, darling. You just let me know when you are ready to move forward.”

You nodded, sniffing, and Loki pressed his lips to your ear. You shivered; you were starting to love the way he did that. “You are so tight, young one,” he hissed, sending a spark of arousal down to your core. “So fucking tight for me. New and untouched and—” He broke off into a grunt as you clenched around his hard length, both a painful and delightful experience. You were a little more used to the feeling now, and the pressure was beginning to build within you again.

Seeing the sensation manifesting on your face, Loki grinned. “May I move?” he asked, ever so quietly, voice like a song.

You nodded, lips curling into a smile despite yourself.

Carefully, Loki began to shift his weight upwards again, hands pressing against yours into the chaise below your back. It was an odd sensation to feel him pulling out again, but when he pushed back inside of you, it was better than anything in the world. It still hurt, of course, but along with that was pleasure, too, especially as Loki let one of your hands go to finger at your clit.

You moaned, beginning to match his rhythm. “Not too fast,” you warned him as he sped up slightly, and Loki nodded, gaze never leaving yours. You could tell it was hard for him not to let himself go, and in an odd sort of way, you were proud of him for his discipline. But then again, he’d had much practice.

Closer and closer the both of you came, until you were begging and writhing below him, staring into his enticing blue-green eyes that shone like the sea. “Loki, oh, Loki —my prince!” you cried, fingers tangling in his hair. “Please, I’m so close—help me—don’t stop—”

“Come,” he said simply, and you did, coming undone in the slow fucking of his cock and the vibrations of his fingers. White blanked out your vision and you squeezed your eyes shut, lost in the beauty of the moment.

Loki came a few seconds later, screaming your name as he spilled into you, hot liquid filling your cunt. You groaned at the feeling, and Loki fell on top of you, panting heavily.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him, pressing a kiss to the hollowness below his cheekbone. “Thank you so much.”

“Anything,” he murmured in reply, capturing your lips in his again. “ You are divine, my dear. I—thank you,” he said, and though you had no idea what he meant, you sighed into him, humming as his hands caressed your face.

Next to him, you slowly fell asleep, for he was a cooling presence against the warm night, and the breeze sweeping across your bare skin seemed to come from Valhalla itself. Although you supposed that you were in Valhalla right now, and he was your loving god. Your God of Mischief.

Loki’s eyes fluttered shut, his lean arms wrapping around you tightly. “Sleep well, darling,” he whispered, and that night, right then, you did.

* * * * * *

A/N: This is one of those one shots that has the vibe of a multichapter...it almost was, lol. Anyways, reblogs/comments/reviews are always appreciated! LMK if you want me to make a taglist!!

[binniedeactivated]

The King’s Princess. ||soobin 💦

╰─▸🖤❝ @[𝒃𝒖𝒈𝒔𝒃𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒚𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈.. ] ✎𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒃𝒊𝒏 𝒙  𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌!𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 ✎ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆,𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕¡ ✎ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕; 2.3𝒌

[@𝒃𝒖𝒈𝒔𝒃𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆] 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒇𝒇…

-ˏˋ🖋“𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒉𝒆?”.  ˎˊ-

“we don’t want to hear it anymore soobin. you’re going to be arranged with someone rich, sweet, skinny and pretty. and that’ll be the end of it”. her sweet yet sassy tone flared among the walls of the house, voice fluttering with beauty yet her tongue was sharper than razor blades. As the Queen it was her every right to be. A frown flickered at her vibrant red lips and her bright brown eyes burned holes into her son’s face. 

“mother I just think things should be different”. soobin argued back, shifting his food to multiple sides of his platinum plate. they were all having their nightly feast at the lengthy dinner table, the butlers coming back and forth with servings and refills for drinks. his father straightened his hankerchief in a serious manner, dabbing the corner of his lips like so. 

“you cannot always get what you want soobin”. he reminds in his usual monotone. 

“that’s for damn sure”. yeonjun muttered just before picking up the wine glass to sip from. he always hated how his younger brother acted when it came to the monarch. almost as if the world revolved around him and him only. 

soobin shoots his brother a frustrating look, “no one is talking to you hyung”. 

“don’t talk to your older brother like that”. his mother quickly reprimanded. “why don’t you be more like him anyway? even your younger brothers have more self control than you”. 

soobin glances at a silent Beomgyu, taehyun,  and kai and rolls his eyes. their suits hugging their smaller frames in a way that made them look much more sophisticated than the average teenagers. he hated when she said that. hated it to the fullest. he always had a pocketed feeling that she favored his brothers more than him anyway. 

always the pocketed feeling that she wished the second born son was never required to inherit the throne. 

almost as if she’d rather have yeonjun take his place instead.

soobin breathes, “I just don’t understand why I can’t just become king and participate in arranged marriage after. I don’t need a wife in order to be king”. 

his father glares at him in the midst of his chews of his roasted chicken, “and what are you without a woman by your side soobin? you cannot make all decisions on your own. A woman can see and detect things that most men can’t. without that intuition what would that make of you?”. 

“i can make wise decisions without a woman”. 

and with that not only did his parents scoff but sparks of laughter was passed around the whole table. soobin just wanted to throw a plate at both of the youngers for even participating in this mess. 

“what are the both of you laughing at?”. he addresses clutching his fork in his balled fist. 

“hyung you can barely even wake up on your own for school in the morning. what makes you think you can make decisions without a woman?”. taehyun replies matter-of-factly, using his butter knife to gently slice his chicken.

“what does that have to do with anything?”. 

“it means you’re not fit to be king. I don’t even know why the inheritance is on you in the first place”. yeonjun snarls. 

“because I’m the second born, smart ass”. soobin snarls back. 

“you shouldn’t have been born at all”. yeonjun retorts with his whole heart.

“boys that’s enough! yeonjun apologize to your brother”. their mother interrupts angrily. 

yeonjun dramatically turns his body around and flashes soobin a fake smile. if soobin didn’t already have a reputation to his name he’d smack the smile off his face. yeonjun cross his legs and places his folded hands atop of his knee. 

“i’m sorry that I hate your fucking guts choi soobin”. 

“alright! everyone go to your rooms. dinner is over”. their father announced with his loud and obnoxious voice bellowing through the hallways. 

“father we weren’t even fighting”. kai whines, referring to him taehyun and beomgyu.

“I don’t care. everyone to their rooms until I say other wise”.

the five boys stood up, each of them sucking their teeth with the exception of kai who annoyingly threw his napkin in the middle of his plate. taehyun rolls his eyes, “thanks a lot yeonjun hyung”. 

“shut up”. yeonjun grumbles. 

and just like that they parted ways. angry. annoyed. not wanting to speak to each other again, and this was how most of their days went. one of them ruining it for all of them and making them go against each other. soobin being the one most impacted this time, being criticized by his parents about being king and then having his older brother say he isn’t fit to be anything and that he shouldn’t have even been born. 

it was normal to say things you didn’t mean when you were angry. 

but it was even more normal for the truth to slip out when you were under a fit of rage. 

and that’s just what soobin thought about yeonjun’s statement. yeonjun was admitting his truth. 

unlocking his door to his room soobin opens the door and throws his suit jacket down on the floor next to his door. he kicks his shoes off in front of the wall, completely disregarding his closet which he could’ve entered had he took the chance to walk further in his room but he didn’t. he was much too frustrated to do anything. he stumbled along his shining marble floors to get under his cardinal colored satin sheets underneath his diamond chandelier. 

but he wasn’t expecting company. 

with his closet door open there was a girl, slightly bent over, reaching inside his closet to be, what it looked like, organizing his shoes. judging from her outfit--being a skin tight crimson flavored dress with a white apron decorating the front--she was clearly a maid. 

soobin could stare at her luscious thick brown thighs for the entirety of the day, but he’d rather not be the perv here. instead he cleared his throat. startled she turned around not even noticing his arrival. she quickly got up off of her knees and bowed graciously. soobin couldn’t stop his eyes from skimming her physique. she was quite thicker than anything he was used to. and her beauty distracted him like a deer in headlights. brown almond shaped eyes, corpulent lips coated with gloss and flawless skin worth dying for. her hair was middle parted and sleek, curly and black stopping only a little past her shoulders. she hadn’t spoken yet but soobin knew just by how straight and white her teeth looked, her smile was going to kill him the most. 

“are you a new hire?”. soobin spoke softly. she nods, 

“my school tuition needs to be paid. this was the only job open. today is my first day, I was assigned your room. am I bothering you? I can finish later”. she says, the sound of her voice to soobin’s ear was like chocolate to a sweet tooth’s tongue. he wanted more of it and he couldn’t help himself. 

“you’re not a bother at all. I’m just surprised my parents didn’t tell me. what’s your name anyways?”. 

“indigo”. 

and she was just as beautiful as the color, soobin thought. 

“I’m choi so--”.

“choi soobin”. she interrupts with a head nod, “I know. everyone knows you”. she informed with a small smile, a dimple pushing into her left cheek. soobin’s heart could just burst. 

“oh yeah? are they good things? or bad?”. soobin quizzes, folding his arms with a slight grin. she laughs with sweetness dripping from her lips equivalent to that of honey. 

“we all know you’re the second eldest. we know you’re handsome and we all know you’re a spoiled brat”. at this point soobin didn’t know if he was more attracted to her beauty or boldness. maids were never permitted to have more than a 5 second conversation with anyone of royalty. hell, barely even a look in the eye. 

“a spoiled brat? I am not. that’s actually quite embarrassing”. soobin admitted with his cheeks turning red. she stands at the tips of her toes and whisks her thumb against his cheeks. any normal human being would know that this wasn’t the way to get rid of a cheek tint but to soobin’s surprise it worked. her hands felt like home against his skin. 

“don’t worry. we know you can’t help it. being rich and inheriting the king’s throne has it’s perks huh?”. 

“being rich has it’s perks. having your whole family think you’re not fit to be king doesn’t”.

“prove yourself to them”.

soobin scoffs, “yeah and they’ll just laugh in my face again. I don’t even know who they’re thinking about arranging me with. probably someone whose just as bitchy as everyone else in this monarch”. he says, not even realizing he was venting to her.

“god you’re really stressed choi soobin”. she utters mainly referring to the slight vein crawling up his neck. 

he peers down at her, “yeah, I am”. the communication between their eyes becoming invincible. a smirk flickered at the corner of her lips and soobin pushes his body closer to hers. 

“and if you’d like to help me with that, you’re more than welcomed to”. 

she ghosted her lips over his, “but is it permitted?”. 

“I don’t care if it isn’t”.

“rebellious boy aren’t you?”. she grinned. soobin smiles, “only a little bit”.  

“I guess it all depends on how you want to be helped”.

he grins with secrets in his eyes, “I won’t tell”,

her gloss glistens in chandelier’s glare. “ hm. how do I know that?”. 

“get on your knees for me and you’ll see”. 

she mutters a small hmph before lowering herself sluggishly, her eyes painstakingly mounting up into soobin’s until she was touching the ground. soobin gifts her a haughty, unflinching stare.

“like this?”. she utters with big innocent eyes. god--she was sexy. and she was well aware of that, soobin could tell. 

“seems like you’re asking questions you already know the answers to”. soobin breathes while she drums her fingers on his belt before unfastening it like so. a poignant smirk pierced her cheeks seeing soobin’s length. she tugged his briefs down and let his veiny cock spring free. 

“it seems like you’re trying to do things that you know you can’t do”. she replies, wrapping her hands around the base of his dick. soobin tenses before he answers. 

“like what?”. 

she positions the plushed, throbbing head onto her lips, “like domming me”. 

she made those her last words before she sunk his length into her mouth, making sure to hide her teeth and wrap her tongue around it’s shaft. soobin felt his heart race at the feeling of her tepid tongue around the places he was sensitive most. 

she hums against his length while a fervid, lewd moan withdrew from her lips. it was careful, yet so erotic that she almost could’ve been mistaken for a pornstar. soobin’s knees turned into jelly at the sound of them. the squelching noises of her saliva filled tongue seeped through the air in the most sinful way. this couldn’t have been her first time. 

soobin’s dick was throbbing so hard in her mouth it became too overbearing to withstand. 

“f-fuck”. he exhaled desperately, sitting down urgently on the edge of his nearby bed. he watches her plump lips roll off the tip diligently with a protracted spit string to follow. she jerks him off, twisting her hand up to his tip before dragging it back down again. 

“is this what you do?”. she questions seductively, and soobin was groaning so much underneath his breath he didn’t even think he had the ability to answer her. “shit--what do y-you mean?”. 

“get maids assigned to your room so they can suck you off?”. 

soobin sits his head back between his shoulders closing his eyes in the utmost ineffable bliss. “n-no. no I haven’t”. he stutters, just as much as his hips. 

she arranges her lips to layer a line of spit along his length and smears it around with her thrusting hand. she taps the tip against her tongue before taking him in whole again, pushing it much deeper into her throat this time. she sucks everything she could reach prior to purposeful gagging, reaping the fruit of her efforts all over his lap. she twirls her tongue around it, lapping her mess in trail from the skin of his lap to the base of his dick. 

“fuck you’re so fucking good at this”. soobin glares at her in a lustful daze. 

“am I?”. she teases, kissing her way to the beloved tip again. soobin thought looked even sexier with her thighs spreading wider since she was on her knees, the both of them begging to inch their way out of her tight dress. 

“fuck yes”. 

“will I get a raise for this?”. she snarkily asks with the head of his dick filling her cheeks. soobin’s hips bucks up into her mouth again. the veins in his neck were even more prominent than before just from him forcing down his needy groans. he nods frantically. 

“y-yes you can get whatever you want”. he exhales again with oceans of pleasure wreaking havoc in his torso. “I’m about to fucking cum”. she jerks him off once more at an even faster pace, biting the plump juicy lips that soobin  wanted to suck off her face. 

his hips sputter once more and she immediately sticks two fingers in his mouth while his hot cum darted from his tip. his sheer broken moans vibrated her fingers until he was finished. 

she climbs up his lap now straddling him. her relentless eyes met his weary ones, “if we’re going to keep doing this, promise me that I will be the only one making you cum like this”. 

soobin nods his head trying to assure her as best as he could. “I p-promise”. she then wraps his hand around his neck, 

“you promise what?”. 

“I promise you’ll be the only one making me cum like this, princess”.

[loversamongus]

On Pink Clouds | Zuko x reader

a/n: so I watched Sleeping Beauty again the other night because that is my favorite Disney princess movie don’t @ me okay anyways I love the Once Upon a Dream scene when they’re twirling by the water and then at the end when they’re dancing on clouds and I couldn’t stop thinking about how Zuko would probably be a good dancer too and this is what happened enjoy. Also sorry what, did you say you wanted an Anastasia “maybe we should stop spinning” moment, too? You got it.

words: 1.9k

fic taglist: @spiritvines​ @protect-remus​ @emeraldpotato

The air was getting warmer. Which isn’t saying much living in the Fire Nation. But the air was getting heavier, the days getting longer, the sun shining brighter. The first day of summer was arriving and the palace was bustling with preparations for the annual Summer Solstice festivities. 

While this time of year is usually exciting, you could do without the superficial and overly posh advisor meetings that came with it. Discussion about educational reforms and foreign policy, your personal passions and areas of expertise, were suddenly sent to the back burner and replaced with talk of exquisite feasts and which foreign dignitaries to invite. Financially responsible as ever, you tried your best to argue for more budget friendly decorations considering the nation was still recovering from 100 years of war, but your older and more traditional colleagues remained adamant that it was in the nation’s best interest to host a genuine, all-out festival. 

You brought your complaints and concerns to the fire lord himself. Ah, the perks of being best friends with the fire lord. Of course, these complaints and concerns were usually filed off-the-record while enjoying what limited downtime the both of you had. After the final advisor meeting for festival preparations, you met Zuko in his room where a seamstress was finishing up his fitting for special Summer Solstice robes. Silently, you made yourself comfortable in an armchair and only quirked a mocking eyebrow in his direction.

“Not a word,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I’m not saying anything!” You threw your arms up in protest. The seamstress took out the last pin on Zuko’s sleeve and packed up her stuff before shuffling out of the room. “Although,” you continued. “If Advisor Ji were here, I’m sure he would say that ‘you look absolutely ravishing, Your Majesty. The very picture of a traditional Fire Lord.” You followed your impression with a gagging sound so that Zuko wouldn’t miss your resounding disgust for the uppity old man.

Zuko offered his arm to you which, standing up, you gladly took. “And what battle did you get into with him today?” he asked with a smile while leading you down the hallway.

“Ugh, we were confirming the seating plan for the feast tonight because Agni forbid we sit this old noble family next to that family, it just simply isn’t done.” Your free hand waved animatedly as you gave the recap of the past meeting. “But the worst part was, I had said weeks ago that we should consider opening up the feast to people from all walks of life in the Fire Nation, not just the nobility. Like the orphanage.”

You heard Zuko try to stifle a chuckle. “Oh come on! Just imagine those cute little innocent faces munching into all the food and running through the palace hallways and their faces lighting up with the fireworks! They would have so much fun, and isn’t that what the festival is all about?”

“Well, actually, it’s a tradition that was started—“

“Not you, too!” You turned sharply to look him in the eyes. “I am so sick of you old, rich people talking about traditions and manners—“

This time, Zuko couldn’t hold back his laughter. You watched with your mouth still slightly open after being interrupted as he tilted back his head to laugh. “I thought it was a great idea to invite the orphanage, which is why I personally invited them to the feast tonight.”

“You did?” you responded quietly but your lips turned into a bright smile.

“Yeah. I figured Aang could use the entertainment.”

The two of you continued to talk about the festival as well as the abhorrently outdated opinions of some of the advisors all the way to the turtleduck pond. The sun was getting lower on the horizon and once it was fully set, the feast would begin. Despite the setting sun, it was still a hot day, so you took your place sitting beneath the tree near the pond to get some shade. Zuko sat closer to the edge of the pond and took out some bread from where he had somehow stashed it in his robes. Leaning against the tree, you looked up at the sky and sighed.

“I love this time of day,” you said absentmindedly. The sky was illuminated by a soft golden glow and the clouds looked painted with a myriad of pastels. “Look at the clouds today, Zuko. They’re pink.” Zuko looked up for a moment and then glanced back at you to smile before feeding the small gaggle of turtleducks.

With the night’s festivities looming over your heads, the pond was the only place to get some peace and quiet for even just a moment. You’d need it anyways in order to gear up for the feast. The palace would soon be packed with Fire Nation nobles, the Avatar and his friends, and now the orphans and their caretakers, all waiting for the young Fire Lord to officially kick off the festival. Large crowds were never your favorite, which was why you had planned on retiring from the feast after dinner was served.

“But you have to stay for the dancing,” Zuko practically pouted when you told him this plan.

“No, no. I don’t dance. But I’ll tell you what,” you sat up from the tree you were leaning against. It was your favorite spot to get some shade as Zuko fed the turtleducks little pieces of bread. “I’ll stay long enough to watch you dance. That’s sure to be a sight to behold.”

Zuko scoffed. “I’ll have you know I am a pretty good dancer.” A turtleduck quacked. “See? He agrees.”

You laughed a little and reached for a piece of bread to offer to the little suck up. “What, did little Prince Zuko have to take royal dance lessons when he was little?”

“Yes actually!” Zuko rolled his eyes as if it was such an obvious answer. You half expected him to let the conversation go at this point and continue feeding the turtleducks. He could only handle your teasing for so long before starting to lose his temper. But he stood up abruptly and held out his hand. You placed bread in his open palm questioningly.

“Not the bread!” His voice revealed a hint of frustration. “Give me your hand. I’ll show you.”

You huffed and moved to cross your arms. You had just said you didn’t dance after all. Zuko’s pride certainly wouldn’t get you to dance. You were about to tell him that he was just fooling himself if he thought he could get you to dance when you felt his hand close on your elbow, pulling you up from your seated position.

“Zuko!” you whined.

“Would you just do this for me, please?” It was posed as a question but his apparent annoyance made it feel closer to a command. “And then you can leave early later if you still want to.”

He didn’t even wait for you to respond before he began straightening your shoulders and back. He took your left hand and held it out to the side and with a finger, tilted your chin up before resting that free hand on your waist. All other protests immediately seemed to die in your throat.

“Now, I lead. Think you can handle that?” He smirked and then began to step forward. After some hesitancy, you stepped backwards with him. You found yourself inching up on your tiptoes to better manage the height difference. But when he stepped again, and again, you felt forced to look down to see where you should be stepping next.

He stopped and adjusted your shoulders again. “Hey. Just look at me.” He gave your hand a squeeze and you looked up again. You couldn’t remember a time you’ve been this close to him. You could practically see each one of the thousands of golden flecks in his eyes. And you knew he was strong, being a master firebender and swordsman and all, but his grip on your waist felt so gentle and safe. He gave you a small smile before starting the dance again. This time, you moved a little better in time with him.

“See? It’s just little steps here and there. Ready to try a spin?”

Before you could say anything, you felt that gentle hand on your waist push you out a little bit while his other hand guided you under his arm. The sudden movement was not something you had expected and so your feet got tripped up a little. Zuko, however, caught your waist again and repositioned you upright before you could completely tumble over.

With a small laugh, he joked, “Okay, maybe we tried that too soon. We could just spin together instead.”

You started dancing again, taking small steps in slow circles around the pound. You were grateful that these steps felt much easier than the spin you had just been forced to attempt. The movement was repetitive and once you felt you’d gotten the hang of it, you went back to counting the flecks in Zuko’s eyes. You also made special note of the small wisps of his hair that had fallen out of his top knot, no doubt from the spinning.

“You okay?” Zuko checked in with you. Suddenly you realized you had not spoken since being pulled up to dance with him. You shook your head to free it from your thoughts in order to respond.

“Yeah,” you managed to breathe out. “I feel like I’m on clouds.”

“Pink clouds?” He smiled.

“Mhm.” The peace and calm you had felt when you looked up at the sky earlier settled in your chest. With a few more trips around the pond, you and Zuko held small conversations here and there. Your replies always seemed a bit hesitant though, mostly because you were concentrating on the steps. Without a doubt, however, you felt relaxed and at ease in his arms. You supposed that turtleduck really did know Zuko was a great dancer.

You lost count of how many spins the two of you did but you did become aware of the sky darkening as well as the spinning in your head.

“I’m feeling a little dizzy,” you said softly. Zuko shifted so that he didn’t lead you into another spin. Instead, you both settled into the small pattern of steps you had started out with before coming to a complete stop. Regardless, you still held his hand and he still held your waist.

“Probably from all the spinning. Maybe we should stop.” His gaze held yours for the entirety of your dance but only now did you notice the seriousness, an intensity, in his eyes. You urged yourself not to let your eyes wander anywhere past the tip of his nose.

“But we have stopped.”

“Y/n, I—“ You felt yourself begin to lean in with him.

“Fire Lord Zuko!” A man, coming around the corner onto the grounds of the turtleduck pond, interrupted. “Fire Lord Zuko,” he repeated again, this time followed by a bow. “The feast will be beginning shortly.”

Zuko did not turn to face the man but he dropped his hand from your waist. His hand still held you and his eyes remained fixed on your face. “Thank you,” he responded in his most regal voice. “I’ll be there soon.”

The man bowed again before exiting back around the corner. The spinning now gone from your head, you cleared your throat and stepped back from him. Zuko held your hand tighter in response.

“You’ll stay for a dance?” he asked hopefully.

“Okay.” You smiled.

[stardancerluv]

I’ll Always Catch You

Summary: What if you randomly met Roman?

Arthor’s note: Alot of angst is ahead! This is a bit long! I didn’t want to stretch this out. This story, has another ending. If there is enough curiousity about it perhaps I will post it.

After a long day at work, you had agreed to meet your friends out for drinks. It had been ages since you did that. So you got all dolled up and headed out.

You were relieved to discover that the Black Mask had tables. So you grabbed one. You ordered a drink.

You watched as people met up with others. Giggles and smiles were shared. Toasts were made. You eyed the time, you left messages. Nothing.

On drink number two, you got up and danced to a few songs. The music was fantastic, the signer was amazing.

Out of breath, but determined to not let the lack of messages back ruin your night, you went back to people watching.

You were fanning yourself, when someone a man in a flawless, white suit walked past your table. The sight of him alone, made you finish what was left of your second drink.

He had a strong jaw line, raven black hair and blue eyes that would slice you in half if you were caught by them.

You were checking your messages, when a waiter came by with a third drink.

You held up a hand, “Oh! I didn’t order that.” Drinks were very good but very expensive. You had debated on where you should get a third.

“It’s on the house.” The waiter smiled, put out a cloth coaster and put the drink on it. “Enjoy.” They smiled brightly and walked away.

You looked around. Wondering who could have possibly ordered a drink for you of all people.

You didn’t see anyone who caught your eye, except the man in white. He appeared to be in a serious conversation. His gloved hands were gesturing as if to stress something, very important or at least that is what it looked like.

You hoped distantly, his night had not been ruined. As you took a sip of the drink you didn’t know why you cared but you did. Perhaps, it was because he was so handsome.

Holding your glass, the cloth coaster, intrigued you. You didn’t want to just put the glass down, so you grabbed one of the plain paper ones that remained on the table, then you put it down.

Picking up the cloth one, you looked at it closer. A very elegant set of initials were sewn into the fabric. At least that is what you assumed they were. The thread was a brilliant shade of gold thread accented with black thread. In an opposite corner, in just as elegant script but only in black, was the name of the club. This was wonderfully elaborate and beautiful coaster. You’d expect that it belong in the vip lounge, not to be served to you, who had only ordered two little drinks.

Putting it down, you reached and put your glass back on it. Sitting back, you oddly felt amused. Tickled actually. Made you feel special. A smile even curled your lips.

“I was hoping, I’d finally see a smile on that face.”

Startled, you looked in the direction of the voice. You could not, stop from gasping. “Hello.” You immediately sat up straighter.

The word twisted in your mouth. It brought an easy smile from him.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, I mean I had walked by earlier.”

“Well, that was earlier and before I started my third drink.” You said without any hesitation, immediately you mentally kicked yourself for sounding so stupid.

“We do make them a strong here.” He gestured to the spot opposite you in the booth. “May I?”

“Sure, please.” Butterflies, began to flap in your stomach. What had he meant by we, you were amused watching as he easily sat down.

He glanced around and gestured. The waiter was back in a breath. “I’ll have another.”

“Certainly, Mr. Sionis.” They smiled and nodded.

They looked at you, you shook your head. Words, were a jumble in your mouth as it dawned on you who had just sat down with you

He looked back at you. “I couldn’t help but notice, you’ve been alone all night. Why?”

You took a sip of your drink, grateful your hand didn’t shake. “My friends never showed.” Once you began speaking, you discovered it was easier then you had thought. “And honestly, I didn’t want to leave.” You looked around smiling, then leaned forward “This place is great.”

The drink arrived with the same cloth coaster you nodded. You watched him nod and take a sip.

“Thank you. I strive to make this the best place in Gotham.” An air of something, confidence not exactly smugness splashed across his face.

“I haven’t tried the food yet, but the drinks and entertainment, are spot on.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Would you like something to eat?”

“Oh I’m good.”

He smirked. “You sure not even an appetizer?” He cocked up an eyebrow.

“Only, if you share it.” You don’t know what compelled you to say it but you did.

“Alright. I don’t usually eat down here in the club but for you, I’ll make an exception.” He gestured. Once again the waiter came right over. “Would you like me to order?”

You nodded. “Sure.”

His voice grew hushed then but waiter was happily nodding then fluttered away.

“I am sure you will enjoy what I chose.”

The buterflies were still flapping in your stomach but you were finally enjoying yourself.

You took a sip of your drink. “Did you have a good meeting earlier?”

A small smile came to his lips. “You noticed?”

You shrugged. “The way you gestured, it looked important.” You hope you didn’t over reach.

“It did.”

The food came then, your eyes grew. The two dishes looked exquisite. “Appetizers?” Looked over at him.

He shrugged. “Just a little taste.”

Sometime later, admittedly it was a little rough eating in his presence, since you were so nervous. You knew this was silly but you enjoyed it all. You were about to thank him, when the waiter eagerly took you plates and replaced them with little tarts.

“Dessert, too?”

He shrugged. “I like to go all out.”

“Well, you achieve what you strive for. This has turned out to be far better then I could have ever expected.”

“Good.”

You smiled, as you finished the last of the tart. “That was far too good. The next time I come, I will have to have another.”

“It is a favorite.” He ate the last piece of his own.

Your smile dropped, as you saw behind him the arrival of your very drunk looking friends.

He looked behind him and back at you. “What?”

You pressed your lips together. “My friends, my very drunk friends have finally arrived.” You finished your drink.

“Oh.” He scooted out of the booth, grabbing his glass. “I hope you will have even more fun now.” With that he walked away.

They were loud and giggling and gave incredibly sloppy hugs. Lots of apologies were exchanged. You were already bored with them but you smiled and played nice.

The waiter came back and with flourish placed a cloth coaster, a glass of champagne in front of you.

“Thank you.” Looking around you spotted him across the club. You mouthed a thank you. He held up his glass and nodded.

Which for a moment, silenced the buzz of your friends but that didn’t last long.

*******

You honestly, don’t know where the time had gone. Some four months later, you finally returned to the Black Mask club. This time, you did not have plans to meet your friends.

Once seated you took it all in. Like before, everything was such a feast for the senses. It wasn’t long before a tart was delivered. Smiling, you looked around.

There he was. This time he was in an equally sharp looking suit but this time it was blue. You watched as, what looked like a forced smile was plastered across his face and it disappeared almost as fast as it appeared. It made a pang go through you. That meeting must have not gone well. You looked back at your tart.

A glass being placed on your table filled your ears. “Thank you.”

“Darling, that was my drink.” A soft, rich chuckle came from him.

“Oh!” You looked up smiling. “Hello.”

A softer, broader smile spread across his face. “Welcome, back. It’s been awhile.”

You grimaced. “Life and work got in the way.”

He shook his head. “You need you to take care of yourself. Nothing, should ever be so serious that it keeps you away from things you enjoy.” A mischievous glint lit up his eyes, making your butterflies, appear and flap for their lives in your stomach. “Especially, when it comes to those tarts.”

You giggled. “You’re right. I missed them terribly.”

He exhaled, you watched as his gloved hand formed a fist. That’s when heard before seeing, the infamous Harley Quinn, dancing or humping, you couldn’t decide which on one the poles.

“Apparently, someone likes to make a scene.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Why don’t you join me for a tart?” You hoped he’d join you like he had that one night.

“Sure, give me...”

A scream tore through the club silencing it instantly.

His attention snapped to it. Harley did something. She sat smugly on one of the sofas, as a man was writhing and screaming at her. Roman, left his glass on the table as he immediately garnered the attention of everyone. The man was silently whisked away.

A random person, stopped on the way to bar. “Get your free shot!”

“I’ll be right up.” You weren’t leaving. This was horrible.

Roman, flushed. His cheeks were scarlet in his apparent anger as he came back to your table. He drained his drink.

“Dreams are for naught.” He glanced at you. His blue eyes were far away. “Have a good night.”

Your annoyance towards Harley Quinn began that night. It started as a tight knot in the pit of your stomach.

*****

You cheek rested in your hand, you were bored to tears at work. Looking, at your knick knacks, and even some of the post cards; were not helping.

“Y/F/N, this just arrived for you.”

You looked up at as the secretary to the office, came over to your cubical. You mood lifted a little. You took the envelop from their hands.

You smiled when you saw the script, you knew immediately who it was from. You swirled in your seat. Your heart picked up speed, your fingertips tingled. Taking a breath, you gently opened the envelop, seeing the gold inlay your eyes grew. It was lovely. You pulled out the heavy black paper.

Hello Y/N,

I would enjoy it very much if you were to be my personal guest tonight at the Black Mask.

I will have a cocktail and a tart waiting for you. I look forward to seeing you at seven o’clock sharp.

Yours,

Roman Sionis

You did a little happy dance in your chair.

******

Not only did you wore a new dress but you, styled your hair as well. You wanted to look as good as possible.

Outside, of the Black Mask you stopped and gathered your breath. In all of these months of getting to know Roman, this was the first time he personally sent an invitation.

With your head held high you went in. A hostess, this time seeing you escorted you to a table. “Thank you.” You whispered. You shook gently, as the butterflies took flight.

“Hello, Y/N.” You smiled when you saw it was the man with white hair. He seemed to to be his confidant. The two of you had never been formally introduced.

“Yes, I mean hello.” You blushed and smiled.

“I will tell Roman you’re here.”

You smoothed your dress more times then you cared to admit. A waitress, came by with your drink. You smiled. “Thank you.”

“Would you like your tart now or would you like to wait?”

“I’ll wait.” She nodded and smiling, she left. You took a sip of your drink. Nervously, your fiddled with the little plastic sword that held your three cherries.

“Oh, now look at you.”

You looked up at the rich deep voice that always caused your heart to beat harder. And it certainly beat harder, he had dressed in black and gold as well.

He offered a hand. “Allow me you see all of you.”

You could feel as heat raise in your cheeks. You took his gloved hand as you slid from behind the table. Once you were free of the table, he twirled you. When he stopped, you were against him. One of your hands came to rest gently on his chest, his magnificent black and gold suit jacket looked even better up close and one of his arms was around your waist holding you to him.

He smiled down at you. “I caught you.” His face was inches from yours.

“You have a habit of doing that.”

The rest of the club faded away. All you saw was his dark blue eyes, the waves of his black hair and soft expression his mouth had taken.

“I hope I always can.” He swallowed, his face moved closer and then he stopped. “Shall we sit?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

Neither of you moved. “I had better let you go.”

His arm finally loosen and you, slid back behind the table.

Smoothing, his jacket and unbuttoning it he slid in. He patted the space beside him. “Don’t sit so far away.”

Flushing you moved back so now, you were beside him. He patted your thigh, “Much better.” He smiled, and his hand came to rest on your thigh when waitress walked up with his drink.

You barely noticed her looking your way. “Would you like your tart now?”

He squeezed your thigh, as he looked between the two of you. His smiled curled to the one side. “Yes, I believe she would. Right, Y/N?”

Hearing him, distracted you from the feel of his hand on your thigh. “Oh? Yes, yes please.” You smiled and nervously you took a sip of your drink.

Once the waitress was gone, he dragged his hand away and took a hold of his own drink. In a very short time, once again the conversation between the two of you flowed very easily. You shared a few laughs and smiles as he shared about a few good meetings and you shared how the office secretary had grown intrigued with the note he sent.

He gave you a side long smile before he had taken another sip of his drink. “So are you now the talk of the office?”

You shrugged, smiling. “I could be, I’ll find out tomorrow.”

The waitress showed up with your tart then. “Thank you.” You smiled and soon, dug in.

“So I was thinking, I can really build something.”

You smiled at him sweetly. It was great to see how his eyes were so alit with happiness.

“It’s a great club...” The man walked up then and placed a hand on Roman’s shoulder. His gestures grew with his excitement.

It was never good when he could come over and interrupted your time together. Looking, away you focused on your tart.

“Harley Quinn, has the diamond.” Roman’s hand found your thigh and squeezed. It was so sudden you, swallowed the entire pice of tart you just took.

“And?”

You tried to not pay attention, it was none of your business.

You could barely hear him as he whispered to Roman. “And they disappeared.”

“Fuck!” Roman barked. His hand flew from your thigh, first banging hard into the table making your plate shake. “Fuck!” He barked again as his fist met the table.

You felt as his breathing shallowed with his anger that gripped him. The club, had already silenced with his outburst.

Something horrible had gone down. In the dead silence, where you could have sworn you heard your own heart beat, laughter rang out.

His entire body tightened. “Who is she laughing at?” His voice rasped out. In a smooth move, he left your side.

Sadness with icy fingers wrapped around your heart.

“Is she laughing at me?”

“She is.”

You could not believe what you heard him say to Roman. Why was he lying. You tried to grab Roman’s arm. “No, she’s not. She’s....” he was across the room in no time.

You closed your eyes and frowned, why had he lied to Roman. You tried to look away, and you did for most of it. Your poured out to him. You k know it shouldn’t you didn’t think he could ever be that cruel. That wasn’t the man you knew. His right hand man pushed him, something happened and he just made it worse.

You could get up, go to the ladies room and freshen up. You could come back and perhaps, if he thought you had not seen anything things could be ok. You just didn’t know anymore.

Taking a breath, you got up. You were about to walk away, when a hand grabbed your arm.

Turning, you saw Roman’s anguished face and your heart went out to him. Tears filled your eyes. “Where are you going ?” His voice was hoarse.

“I’m, I was going to ladies room.” To managed to stutter out.

“No, no I want you to stay here with me close.” He pulled you to him.

Easily, you wilted in his arms. You were all a jumble. What he did was horrible but you knew it really wasn’t his fault but it hurt seeing him like that.

“You soothe, me.” He pulled back, his blue eyes were filled with remorse and sadness.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You voice shook and as you swallowed the tears back.

“Good.” He continued to move, dance with you.

*****

The following evening, you found yourself walking along the broken founder’s pier. It was a cold and foggy night. Despite how broken it was and how fallen to ruin it was you continued down it.

You really had to collect yourself. You were still completely shattered at what you had seen. Roman, could have the occasional angry outburst. You knew, never to mention his family, they had done him wrong and he pulled himself up and made something of himself.

But what you saw, it shook you. It must have by really been bad what Harley did in order for him to snap like that. You leaned against one of the steadier looking railings.

As a child, your dad had taken you there. He showed you all the founders of Gotham, you still knew them all their names. It used to be a beautiful pier when you were a child.

With a faint smile on your lips, you remembered how one time, you had climbed onto the railing and walked along it. Upon seeing you do it though, your dad panicked. That’s when you had wavered in your confidence. But he caught you, and you clung onto him relieved you had not ended up in ocean.

Screams sliced through the night. You looked in the direction of them. You don’t know why, but you ran toward them.

As you got closer, you could have swear you made out three figures. Two of which were hunched over.

“I’m Harley Fucking Quinn.”

A gunshot exploded in the night. That’s when you saw Roman, and you saw this young girl. Everyone, stopped and looked at you. His grip on the girl loosened but she caught your eye, you don’t know what compelled you but you ran towards her and him. “No!!!!” The words burst from your mouth.

You felt as your foot caught but as it did you somehow managed to reach and you contact with her. You reached, and contacted with her. She let out a scream as she began to fall backwards over the railing, your foot loosened at the last minute and you couldn’t stop. Everything, felt like it slowed down.

Just then arm wrapped and it slammed you down and found yourself looking up at the stars. “I’ll never let you fall.” His raspy voice filled your ear, you smiled despite everything. You felt safe.

A breath later and an explosion, rocked your entire world, no hesitation you clung on to him. You both looked.

“Hey, kid Are you ok?” Harley’s screechy voice hollered. You looked at Roman, but you barely saw him shock, instincts over taking you. The two of you crept and looked over the railing.

“Hey kid!”

“There!” You pointed. You saw someone flopping around in the water. “There.”

“I’m here.” A weak voice traveled up to all of you.

“I’m coming kid.” She looked at the two of you. “This isn’t over Romy.” She said through gritted teeth.

“It never is.” He replied, sounding more tired then anything else.

You watched as her golden overalls faded and obscured into the darkness. Her distant screams were met with others.

As one still slumped backwards, the aging wood creaked underneath the two of you. Distant and indistinct voices traveled up to where the two of you remained.

“We better get out of here.” He finally said.

“Yes.”

******

Neither of you spoke, you simply just numbly followed him up in the elevator. You barely looked around as you found yourself in his penthouse.

With your head finally clearing, you met his eyes and took the wash cloth from him. He sat down on the rim of a very large bathtub. You were washing the blood off his face. It was not long, before the man you had grown to care about. He inhaled sharply when you discovered the cuts.

Gently, he took the washcloth from your hands, “I should clean...” Your voice trailed off as he shook his head.

“They can wait.” His voice, was scratchy. It was as rough as he looked, which broke your heart. “I thought that first night, I could rescue you.” He swallowed. “But tonight, you saved my worthless life.”

The tears that wouldn’t come earlier, finally came. “You’re not worthless.” He looked away. “Hey, you saved me, too.” His eyes met yours but they were as turbulent as an ocean.

“I can’t excuse anything I did or I may do now that since they tried to kill me tonight. I want to be the king of Gotham.” His voice cracked. “When I joined you that one night, and the nights that followed, I..I...felt just like a man, a man who owned a club.”

“You are.” You reached out to him, he flinched.

“You were the only one whoever looked at me and didn’t have fear lingering or disgust in your eyes. That was till the other night. I get angry, my anger blinds me.”

A sigh came from him.

“I have no business even asking, since you now know the monster I can be.”

He pressed his lips together before continuing.

“But, I would you like me to be my girl.” He looked down and when his eyes met yours, they were blue flames. “Fuck, tomorrow they may actually succeed and finish what they couldn’t do tonight. But, I would like to die knowing I had a chance at you being my girl.”

You inhaled, you closed the distance. This time when you reached out and actually cupped his cheek, he did not flinch. Going, up on your tiptoes you did the only thing you could think of. You kissed him.

Pain, ripped through when he pulled back.

“Really?” Was all he said.

“Yes.” You managed to say and tears slide from your eyes.

“Then, I’ll catch you till my dying breath.”

He grabbed you and you clung onto him. With no hesitation your lips finally met. They didn’t part for a very long time.

@darling-i-read-it @spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @nebulastarr @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @itsknife2meetu @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @nomnomnomnamja @poe-kadot26 @top-rumbelle-fan @babydoll97 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @rosionis @queenofgotham800 @brookisbi @peachthatdrinkslemonade @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @rentskenobi @starwarsslytherin @proffesionalclown @chogisss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @pooshnulooshnu @speedypartyducksuitcase @blondekel77 @corey-clown @drarrylov3r @hollywood2k16

[saadiestuff]

meet me in the middle... of the dance floor (Malex fic)

For Malex Week - Day 5 - prompt: Pony / smut.

Summary: Michael is entranced watching Alex dance. Thankfully one of them is brave enough to do something about it! (Also featured: Max being a good bro & Isobel being a goddess & humour.)  Rated: Light M. [AO3]

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

Isobel has all of them up dancing.

They’d left the table two by two, some needing no direction, others requiring more convincing than others. Liz and Rosa, Kyle and Steph, Jenna and Charlie, Alex and Gregory. Maria had joined them on her own accord after the end of the rush period, bounding onto the dance floor and letting Isobel spin her around.

Michael watches them. They’re all grooving, the lesser dancers among them moving more smoothly than he’s ever seen, as though Isobel is commanding them with her mere presence; like they’re riding her vibe. If Michael didn’t know better, he’d think Isobel had them under her alien mind-whammy influence.

It’s impossible not to notice that they all look incredibly sexy. Michael finds himself idly wanting to taste all of them -- well, except Isobel; any of his baby gravy coming her way would be in a turkey baster. Michael notices then that Max, observing the dance from behind the bar, looks like he feels the same. He’s swaying to the music too, totally distracted from the drinks he’s supposed to be serving.

Though Michael is sure he’s about to witness a hilarious scene involving spilled drinks, he feels compelled instead to look back to the group of dancers. Why are all his friends so frickin’ attractive?

Clearly the Pony’s customers have also noticed. They really do seem spellbound, by Isobel or the whole group, he doesn’t know.

Michael wonders if everyone in the room can smell rain.

It does strike him as odd how the other bar patrons watch them intently, but don’t join the dance. It’s like it’s a performance on a stage, intended for others to feast on but not partake. But Michael can’t really blame them -- it is rather intimidating how his friends seem to move as one smooth blob.

Sexy blob.

Michael gives his head a shake. Maybe he’s just projecting. And maybe it’s just Alex. Alex in the center of it all, moving like liquid, free and open. Michael has only seen him this way when playing music... or making love.

Yet there he is, on the dance floor, not shielded by an instrument or a bed sheet.

It’s blinding how bright he is.

Michael makes the mistake of catching Alex’s eye. Alex looks shy at first, as though broken from the trance. But then Alex smiles, that same damn smile he’d given Michael when Michael had seen him sing on that night months ago.

Alex nods his head at Michael, beckoning him to join, before drifting back into the fold, not waiting for Michael to answer -- for the moment, too afraid for that, instead letting the music consume him.

Michael watches Alex, not sure if it’s his imagination or Alex has turned it up a notch now. Whatever the case, he looks fucking delicious. His head thrown back, his hips moving in this way… Alex may as well be doing an alien mating dance for how Michael’s body responds, his pants quickly growing tight.

Great. Michael groans internally. He gets up and out of his seat before things can escalate further, and heads to the bar.

“Max,” Michael says to get his attention. “Max,” he repeats louder.

“Wha-- Oh. Michael,” Max says as he finally turns around.

“Something to see, huh?” Michael says, nodding towards the dance crew.

“Uh huh,” Max agrees, gaze already wandering.

Michael follows it, and sees that Greg and Charlie have now sandwiched Isobel between them, hands are everywhere, and she’s loving the attention.

Max clears his throat. “You should join them.”

“You haven’t,” Michael points out.

“I’m working. And doing a shit job of it because I’m so distracted. Our friends are like, hella sexy.”

“I noticed.”

“Go, dance. Or at least go get your man and take him home,” Max urges.

“He’s not my man,” Michael insists.

“Yet.”

“Someday…”

“Well, he’s not going to stay single for long,” Max warns. “Just look at him. I kind of want to lick him.”

“Hey!” Michael growls possessively.

“You just said he isn’t yours!” Max teases.

Michael does his best to look unamused. “He’s not property anyways. He’s--”

“Very woke of you. Now 'woke' up and make a move!” Max swats Michael with his bar towel.

Michael fends off the attack with a targeted bit of telekinesis. “I will if you will,” he challenges.

“Liz and I are actually working on it. You’re just pining. And Alex is...” Max glances over to him, “...doing some kind of alien mating dance.”

“Eyes over here!” Michael snaps at him.

Max chuckles.

Michael groans and puts his head in his hands.

“Dude, seriously,” Max says, “You both seem to be in a good place. You’ve been waiting for the right time… maybe this is the time.”

“No, it isn’t,” Michael says regretfully. “We need to talk more first. And right now I just wanna…”

“Lick him.”

Michael glares, but agrees. “Yeah. Something like that.” He looks back towards the dancers, and sees Alex making a break away. “Oh boy,” Michael exhales sharply.

Max just shakes his head, laughing until Alex arrives at the counter moments later.

“Fuck, it smells good over here,” Alex says, “Like it’s raining men, literally.”

“Hallelujah,” Max says, grinning. “Can I get you something?”

“You can get this one to dance with me,” Alex says boldly, making finger guns in Michael’s direction.

“Believe me, I tried,” Max says, winking, before making himself scarce at the other end of the counter to give them privacy.

Michael sighs, Alex is beaming at him, and he has to disappoint him.

“Look, I don’t wanna dance. I wanna kiss you. And stuff.”

“So kiss me, and stuff...” Alex says, alluring, leaning in close, before pulling back a few inches, smirking impishly, and adding, “...on the dance floor.”

Michael’s mouth opens and closes aimlessly.

“Meet me in the middle here, Michael,” Alex says softly. He takes Michael's hand and squeezes it encouragingly.

Michael gulps. “Alex… we need to talk more before we start with the… epic sex.”

Alex smiles at that, but quickly turns serious. “I know, believe me, I do. And I want to. But we’ve been stalling, I think, because we’re scared to screw it up. So maybe what we need to do is just have some fun, ease into it.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right. Take the pressure off,” Michael reasons, more than happy to come around to Alex’s way of thinking -- plus, he really wants to dance now, if only so he can keep holding Alex’s hand.

Alex grins. “Besides, I’m feeling good and I wanna dance and I wanna dance with a cute boy and the only boys dancing right now are my brother and Kyle. And Kyle is pretty focused on Steph. But maybe Max will dance with me,” he adds teasingly, peering around Michael to search for Max.

“No, no, that won’t be necessary,” Michael laughs, jumping up from his chair so fast that he nearly knocks Alex over and they end up tangled up in each other’s arms to keep upright, giggling.

They’re wrapped in each others’ kisses before they even make it onto the dance floor.

[thewritingstar]

In The Depths of the Deep Sea

Pairing: Blossucth (Blossom x Butch) 

Fandom: Powerpuff Girls

Notes: Prob one of the fluffiest things I've written and I’ve had this idea for months now and finally its here. After rewriting more times than I care to admit, I actually like it. Also go check out @lisathefan she made the most stunning art work for this!!

Tag list: @shellielyzabeth @unvalley @over-under-through1

Enjoy! 

---

“Never go past the Crystal Reef.” Her father said to when she was just a young mermaid.

Naturally she listened to the rules. As the eldest of her sisters, it was her duty to make sure they did the same. Even if she had to scold Buttercup for getting too close or urge Bubbles not to because of the scary monsters, no one went past the reef.

It wasn’t a hard rule to follow though. Crystal Reef was massive and was filled with a city of sea life and other mermaids that kept everyone happy. They lived in the ocean and were free to travel the lengths of the sea, but the Deep Reef as it was called, was off limits.

She had heard the stories many times. Disgusting creatures lurked in the murky waters and even mermaids had a hard time swimming it's currents. It was ice cold as the legends told and no one made it out alive to tell the tale. There were messages of mermaids becoming food for the massive predators that lived there and even said to be home to blood thirsty sharks and fish who were more bone than flesh. It was creepy and distasteful to even think about and Blossom rarely had any desire to swim out and down below.

But one evening after her father told her about the treasures pirate ships could hold, she found one. It was just short of the edge of the reef, only a few meters down, the water was still clear enough but she knew that any further and she could be risking her tail. But as she grew older, her curiosity got the better of her.

So she swam and found it. The massive ship that had been sunken years before she was born. It was breathtaking even with the mass of water damage eroding its boards. Her mind had drifted further out to sea, her judgment foggy as she wasted the daylight in the boat.

It became a habit of hers. She would leave for hours to go towards that ship and each time, there was something new for her to see. She never had trouble there before, but her luck could only go so far.

The water had turned colder towards the night but she wasn’t worried, wasn’t afraid. Her tail guided her along the outside and she had decided maybe that was enough exploring for the day. Her family would get worried if she wasn’t back soon but then again the giant shark looming over her didn’t care too much about her time.

She gulped as the creature stared at her. Her breath being held in her throat as its eyes locked on to hers, daring her to make a move. Her blade in her bag was out of reach and even if she had it, there was no way she could fight off a shark ten times the size of her.

Perhaps this was it. The day she would be eaten alive and never found. And if she were to die, her sisters better keep their fins off her stuff! She shut her eyes tight as she felt the shark move closer. The torment of feeling the bubbles around her was making her uneasy and thought if she remained still, then it would leave. But her eyes, she decided to open them all too soon.

She only saw white. Rows and rows of exposed sharp teeth were only merely inches away and she couldn’t help herself from losing her cool. She screamed at the top of her lungs causing the shark to open its jaws and bite down at her spot where she just managed to get away.

In her younger years she had been deemed the smartest of her sisters, speed was not the attribute that she had been gifted and she wished in these very moments that Buttercup's ability to swim faster than anyones was here.

She circled the corner of the ship, hoping to lose the shark but one more mistake of looking back cost her time. She didn’t know this area well and made the mistake of swimming past the boat and towards the darker side. Her eyesight became cloudy as the water merged with the fading light and soon she could only see a few feet ahead of her.

The shark's nose grazed her tail and she let out a scream as she found a giant rock rounded to the back pressing herself to it hoping the creature wouldn’t find her. She covered her mouth with a shaky hand. She shouldn’t have ventured this far, shouldn’t have let the mysterious be her guide.

She could see the shark a few feet away, it had lost her scent for a second and she knew that if she dared to swim, it would all be over. She had spoken too soon, those beady eyes turned and locked onto her frame and she swore she could see the sickly smirk of its teeth before it bolted towards her.

Her eyes tightened close and she took one final break, her bag dropping to the ground as her hand was pulling to the right and down. In a matter of seconds she felt the cavern shake from the impact of the shark, yet she was still alive, and wrapped around warm seaweed?

Blossom opened her eyes, now inside of the hidden cave, she looked down to see an arm holding her waist and hand, that was not hers, covering her mouth.

“Don’t move.” A voice came into her ear. It was deep and hoarse as if someone had just woken up.

Another jolt of fear ran through her as the shark bashed its head against the rocks. She let out a muddled squeak and the arm tightened slightly on her body.

“It can’t get to you, don’t worry.” The voice tried to reassure her.

For when the arm loosened on her after moments of waiting and he told her the shark had left, she turned and was met with vivid green eyes and an uncertain expression. Her eyes went to the top of his head. She had heard of mermaids that adapted to their surroundings but she had never met one with a light stand of an angler fish. It bobbed in the water giving off a faint glow.

“Thank you.” She said, trying to hide the fact that she was staring at him. She didn’t mean to be rude but he was so

“It's uh, no big deal. You should probably leave.” He said but when he swam away, that wasn’t the last he saw of her.

--

His first thought was to leave her there to die, just like all those other pesky mermaids who don’t know what lurks below. He knew that they all thought badly about the creatures here, serving them the right to try and test fate. But by all means if they want to risk their stuipd lives and dive down deep then they are in a rude awakening for a game of predator or prey with the creatures that feast on the oblivious.

But for some reason he couldn’t allow it to happen, not this time. It wasn’t his fault that he had stumbled across her, just a curious mermaid looking through an old sunken ship. Maybe if she knew that he was hidden behind the rock staring at her like a creep, she would have wished the shark ate her up. It was just...he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

He had seen countless mermaids and sea creatures, nothing special new about them. However her electric magenta tail brought his memory to the glowing anemones he used to pick as a little fish. The heart swirled on her tail was oddly cute and he found himself drawing closer and closer to her.

Did he spend weeks going back and forth between the ship hoping that she would come back to explore? Did he maybe place items he found in there so that the presence of new things made her come back? Maybe. It wasn’t creepy. He was just...curious. His brothers had no idea that he would spend his afternoons and even evenings wandering over to the shipwreck. They hadn’t had a clue about what was so interesting that he would be gone for hours but when he came back with some fish, they didn’t bother to ask any questions.

Sometimes he wondered if he should keep to himself. He had been told to never mingle with a mermaid of pure blood. Those whose fins and tails were fully fish and mermaid-ie, unlike him who looked mostly pure blood but had the light of an angler fish bobbing out of his forehead. He didn’t care, though he looked cool but it became his own worst enemy at some times.

She however thought it was adorable when she would place a sweet kiss to his cheek and the little light would brighten to an illanecent green and his cheek as pink as his tail.

“It's weird.” he would grumble.

“I think it's cute.” She would respond and give him another kiss to increase the brightness. “You’re like a lighthouse, always guiding me right back to you.”

He laughed. “You’re a sap.”

---

She found herself swimming deeper and closer to the murky water, even her ability to see in the dark wasn’t holding up but there was no fear within her even as the water altered to a colder climate. Hesitation was something she knew of often, always second guessing herself to make the right choices and be the best version of herself but with this, there was none of that.

It was certain that within these twilight waters was something for her. Something that could offer her more than the crystal reef and the same school of fish. Something unique and intriguing. Something of her own.

She knew better than to venture to the darkest part of the ocean. She knew about the horror stories where creatures go but don’t return, but there she was, following the path that others dared not too.

Her excuse was the ship and her desire to excavate it, but her family didn’t need to know that she was only going there to see him. It started with just a few questions and friendly chatter.

“What are you doing?”

“Finding treasure.”

“Think you could search me next?”

“You’re a riot.”

But even with the not so subtle stares and the blushing of her cheeks, she found herself gravitating to him as if he were a magnetic field and she let herself drift to him. Those sly comments turned to pamper kisses as their conversations formed into topics of their hopes, dreams and fears. And how she knew he had placed those items for her to find.

Sharp teeth left shivers all over her body as they caraseed her neck and lips so delicately like that as a whisper. His eyes, how enchanting. The deep green was viid against his greyish skin that faded into a beautiful black at his fingertips. She never thought eyes could shower her with  adoration even when she was just rambling. He held her close, chin resting on her shoulder as she would go on and on about the items she would find. She found his voice appealing and safe and he had comfort whenever she spoke.

Kissing him was like being plunged into cold water., A rush that left her head dizzy as she begged for more and wanted to never leave his side. At first he treated her as if she would break. Soft touches and feather light kisses but she loved when his hands would tangle into her locks and kiss her senseless as if she needed to forget her own name. His fingers would trace along the patterns that form on her skin and she would kiss the scar on his chest.

When their time to meet was coming up, she would swim towards the darkness, never looking back, hoping that he would always be waiting, perched on the rock just her. And sometimes she would get there and he would play his game of cat and mouse

“Caught you.” He whispered into her ear, a tingle running up her spine.

She giggled as she turned in his arms and threw her own around his neck. She gazed into his eyes for a second. The brightest green she had ever seen, like that of emerald from the world above. Her lips came onto his and even with her eyes closed, she could sense the light coming from his head. Its precious green glow just for her eyes, like her own little star in the dark sea.

She ran her finger along his sharp jaw and when he tilted his head to deepen their kiss, she felt those teeth that were just as dangerous. She was addicted to every part of him, no matter how hard the warnings were, she would find herself back in the dark surrounded by his warmth and that bright light.

---

She never understood the others. How could they say that everything below the reef was cruel and dangerous, well she knew why. All stereotypes hold a sliver of truth but when she was here with him, bodies slumped against the coral as they relaxed and watched the fish passing by, she had never felt safer, more comfortable, more free than when she did up above.

She brought him to the surface and showed him the reef, though he did better in the colder waters, he couldn’t comprehend just how gorgeous she was as the sun breached the water and her scales were like drops of sunlight. The pink of her iris sparkled and he found himself falling deeper and deeper in love with her just as she did with him.

They would collect sea glass together and he showed her the garden of anemones and sea flowers that bloomed with vivid colors. Sometimes they would swim to a hidden shore and look at the humans above before returning to water to snuggle in the kelp. They would treasure hunt and find other sunken ships.

“What's your favorite treasure or item you found?” He would say and without skipping a beat, her lips would linger over his, pink looking into green before whispering “You.”

She was told to never leave the reef and he was scolded to stay away, but within the darkness and the cold currents, there was a flash of green that guided her heart to her other home, to her other half.

--

I hope you enjoyed and thank you to miss Lisa for making art!!

[not-bumbles-guthrie]

When The Beasts Run Wild

A weird choice for a first tumblr post but alas! I must undermine expectation! If you’re unlucky enough to be interested in reading this, here’s a little description:

In a deserted environment, brutalized by nuclear fallout, we find Cherry. She’s a quiet, nihilistic young woman plagued by the knowledge that she has lived her entire life in the remains of a society that no longer exists. The story follows her as her fellow survivors celebrate the Summer Solstice. Unfortunately, more seems to be at hand as it dawns upon Cherry and her lover that the world might be ending soon.

When it came to the explosion, no one imagined it would lead to the downfall of humanity. It would lead us to a return to order, an acoustic version of the world the humans had created. They would no longer be a part of it. It was a strange concept to grow used to as the days passed, and people were eaten at by the radiation. Of course, there were people that ran to the nuclear hostels, the ones hidden deep in the underbelly of Mother Earth. Yet, they talk of those places being overrun. One person says they were there when the President was found, slumped over. She’d also been killed by the radiation from the second blast. The person who told me this would die too in the coming weeks. Her face was bloodied when she took her last breath, shaky and demure. Then, with a flourish, she sucked in one last time, as hard as she could, and breathed out, “Fin!” While she didn’t have the strength for that exclamation point, I like to imagine her enthusiasm behind it is deserving of the emphasis.

Dogs run free now. If I had to take a guess on who ruled the expanse of land Mother left us, it would be them. She seems to have made them impervious to the air, to the invisible killer. Then again, we believe that she made us impervious to the same air. Perhaps we are just lucky, though. The dogs are destined. Eventually, we will die out. I don’t think the same can be said about the puppies, with their floppy ears and jovial smiles that cut through the particles.

I toss a piece of my flatbread to the yappy pup at my ankle. Her name is Annika, after Queenie’s grandmother who survived the first blast only to die because of the second one. She isn’t my dog; unlike most of the people here, I don’t choose dogs. They find me, visit me, and then they drift away either to their human companions or back to the dust and decay. Mother Earth would’ve blessed me with one if She wanted me to tend to a dog. They are Her chosen successors, after all. I’m merely here to die and be eaten by one of them when the time comes for my body to return to Mother through a dog’s shit that will hopefully make this land fertile once more.

Or maybe it won’t. Who fucking cares? It’s not like there’s a 9 a.m. office job to attend or a peewee football game to cheer on my snot-nosed kids at. There’s the dogs, the open sores, the radiation, and Mother Earth. That’s all. Those are the last things a human will ever know.

I used to ponder what the limits of humanity would be. I thought I would see the end of it, and that ending would be magical. We would finally know what the finality of the human brain was, what its capacity was. However, it’s become quickly apparent that in my eighteen years, nothing will ever show me that capacity. This is the capacity. The height of human invention and creativity? Its own destruction. How poetic. And to think, I was a baby and I missed it all.

It’s weird, living in a sarcophagus of time. I know everything about a culture that is dead. A species that is dead. Soon, I will be dead too. I’ve been told, by a doctor who lives in the camp, that most of us will only make it another 15 years. Maybe I’ll make it longer, he said, because I miraculously survived the first two blasts before the age of five. If I didn’t die then, perhaps I’m meant to last long enough to outlive the cancers and the ARS. Personally, I don’t think he was a very smart doctor. Even I know that’s not how radiation works. Put simply, I will be dead. It’s only a matter of when Mother Earth decides to reclaim me.

Father sits in The Temple when I return with Annika. The growth of what few flowers and vegetables can be produced in this climate surround him, billowing at his feet. His toenails were kissed by the vines of the potatoes, which had grown gnarly like his bunions. Father was a sight for sore eyes, with the fallout aging him past his years. He deserved to have a big, great white beard, but alas. All he had to show for his near two decades of turmoil was a small patch of growth on his face. He no longer had a full head of hair, and the sores on his skull near his neck opened daily with each movement. That’s what filled my vision as I walked towards him, as his head was bowed in prayer.

“Father,” came out soft and trembling. I cleared my throat. No need for that.

“Any news? Has Her Graciousness spoken to you?”

He spoke about Mother with a reverence that no one in the group possessed. He worshipped her. My mouth became dry, and its taste made me nauseated. There was nothing to report. Mother Earth had never spoken to me. She never spoke to him, why would that change with me?

“Yes, Father. She has.”

His eyes widened, pupils dilating as he took in more light. Blue rhinestones. “What did She tell you?”

I glared at Annita, nudging my head to snap back and tell her to kindly fuck off. The stupid animal simply sat there and stared at me. I rolled my eyes. “Stupid girl,” I muttered before looking Father in his eyes. “Mother Earth tells me that we will be safe for the coming Solstice.”

We had no idea if the Summer Solstice was close or not, actually. We assumed, based on the markings Monsignor Karl had kept for the past nineteen years since the first blast knocked out the power grid in the eastern hemisphere. He was the original Keeper, passing on the reins to Ingrid after he passed. It was hard to watch him go, as the cancer overtook him. For the last weeks, he did nothing but bleed from his mouth. Thanks to him, we are able to honor Mother. Kind of.

“That’s a good girl. Thank you, Cherry.”

I nodded in response, bowing at Father, before walking away. Annita followed me, yipping as we made our way to Camp. Ingrid acknowledged me with a demure nod as I passed her. She wore an ornate necklace, one that was found through scavenging when the Monsignor was still alive, that held a long-stopped pocket watch as its pendant. It was the Monsignor. It ran for the first few weeks following the Chernobyl incident, before the battery finally died. It was what helped him keep the time in the first days. Now, Ingrid wore it to simply mark herself as a special one. She could study sun patterns and tell you the approximate time of day, which made her invaluable, especially when it came down to times like the Solstices. These days, though, she seemed to be slipping up more and more. It made sense, given she was always awake when I woke up for my nightly leak. She had to be tired after being up half the night.

“Hey,” I called out before plopping myself down in front of her sundial.

“Hey yourself. Your shadow is fucking up my clock.”

That was all I needed before I was brushing myself off and moving away from Gritty. It was no matter; she was routinely not in the mood to fuck around. “Talk to you later, precious. Perhaps I’ll visit you on your nightly ‘stare at the sky’ session?”

“Fuck you,” came from behind me as I walked away. “Go concoct more lies.”

The last part came out quietly, as a small tease. My body froze up at first, with my back to her, but I could hear her chuckling in the annoying way she would. I flipped her off before turning into the tent that held our food. Dinner, it appeared, was served.

The small feast consisted of grains, including sunflower seeds, and bits of wild strawberry. For the group of ten people, it would barely make us feel full, but it was enough to satisfy the Itch. When your stomach lining is eaten away for so long, even a smidge of food does away with the Itch for a few. It would at least let us sleep until the Sun came up, flooding us with the blessings of Mother. Ingrid sat across from me, kicking at my shins when she caught me staring at her plate, which was empty but for a bit of juice stain from the strawberries.

“Perv,” she said with as much menace as love. Her smirk told me everything.

I rolled my eyes, playing with my ponytail, wrapping it around the ends of my finger. Perv. It rang over and over in my mind. So what? Was how I wanted to respond. I didn’t, though. My throat stopped me. My heart stopped me.

“Thank you for this blessed bounty, Mother Earth,” Father’s voice rang out.

“Thank you, Mother,” we whispered in a low baritone. Our heads were bowed over our empty plates.

“We worship you for saving us, Lover. Thank you for blessing us with eternal servitude to you. We will cleanse your Home, Wife,” Father continued with our heads dipping further towards our empty plates. There was a small clang as my glasses hit the edge of the ceramic. Gritty kicked at me again. I almost giggled.

This was my moment. I knew this. I had practiced this countless times. I raised my head to see the crown of Ingrid’s head, and I stopped for a minute. Her dark hair caught the last rays of the sun, and I was blinded. My voice cracked as I started us all in, singing, “Danke- Danke schoen, darling, danke schoen.”

“Thank you for all the joy you bring,” everyone started in on the second line, holding their hands out to each other.

Miss Fieri grabbed my hand. Her painted red nails scratched at my palm, and the old hole in the corner of her lip caught my eye as I faced her. Her face sagged, and her eyeliner was smudged. It was a miracle she had any. To my right, Monsignor Karl’s son, Vlad, sat though I had to reach out to wrap my palm around his amputated wrist. He smiled as he sang the lines, “Save those lies, darling, don’t explain.” It was strange to think about the fact that Mother blessed him with the stupid mustache the twinkled with as we sat there, singing. Yet, he was too stupid to become the next Keeper. That’s why we have Gritty.

Across from me, Gritty winked at me. She nodded at my hand on Vlad’s stump, and I knew what she was doing. Who’s the perv now? I thought. I relinquished my smile, giving her a disappointed nod. “Get your head out of the gutter,” I mouthed while Queenie fucked up the “Auf wiedersehen” despite the fact that her mother is from Germany. Dumbass. Gritty caught my look towards Queenie, smiling. She flipped her hair, impersonating the prima donna. I held in my laughter, smiling at her. I shook my head again, but this time in appreciation.

Then, I saw Father’s gaze. His eyes narrowed, brows furrowed so that the long spindly hairs were more apparent. His scar across his face was terrifying enough without the expression. I avoided looking him in the eye for a reason. My mouth formed a thin line in response. I bowed my head, and we finished the hymnal for Mother. We let go of each other’s hands to our lips, kissing our hands, and shooting the kisses towards the ground. Oppa and Kyle gave small whoops and hollers as the old woman and the young man hugged each other. I watched them closely, noting the miracle of their friendship.

“Thinking about the time you fucked him?”

“Fuck you, Gritty. It was four years ago.”

“We all know how formative that was for you.”

“You fucked him too. Shut up.”

“You know we’re supposed to fuck him again.”

“Yeah,” I whispered as we walked further from the tent. Oppa and Kyle went their separate ways, with the kind old woman heading to her tent, wrapped in her shawl she swears Stevie gave her. Kyle appeared to be more preoccupied with the new girl we picked up. Her name was Cola. Like the soda. She was his new toy. She was only fifteen, but she told Father she hadn’t lost her virginity yet. We were supposed to give her unto Mother soon because of that. I don’t know why she bothered to stay. I suppose the food alone is worth it, maybe the dogs. She’s only been here a week and she already found a little dachshund to be her companion. She’s taken to calling him Nilla. Gritty and I passed them, and I gave Nilla a little pat on the head as he came up to my ankles and pushed his nose against me.

“Do you think they’ll force us to do it when we hold the Ceremony for her?” I asked once we were out of earshot.

“Probably. Father is known for liking convenience,” She responded quietly. Her tone was melancholic.

We found our way out of the light of the camp fires. I scooped her hand into mine. “That’s true. It’s been too long since the last time.”

“I don’t know why we’re supposed to wait until the Solstice.”

“It’s because it’s spring. Fertility and all that shit.”

“Isn’t sex supposed to be sacred? What does the time period have to do with that?”

“I don’t know, man. Stop asking such stupid questions.” I let go of her hand, picking up a stick instead.

She folded her arms across her chest. “Just because you don’t want Mother’s babies doesn’t mean you gotta be a dick because I’m asking questions.”

“It’s not that, and you know it, Grit.”

“Then what is it, Cher?”

I rolled my eyes, facing away from her. “It’s easier to just do this shit than think about why it makes no sense.” It was as close of an answer I could give.

“Yeah, but doesn’t it kill you that Mother Earth says it’s just a sacred act but instead we treat it like this fucking parade that happens once a year. Sometimes twice, if Kyle doesn’t get his jizz in us.” Her head was cocked to the side as she studied me. We stopped at the edge of the woods like we always did. We knew no one could see us all the way out here. They just assumed we were playing in the woods, as we had since kids. Not questioning the basis of our existence. I threw the stick into the woods, hearing a small yelp from some animal. Probably a cat, from the sound. “I just…” I plopped on the ground next to a rock, resting my elbow against it. “It’s easier to not think about it instead of what we can’t do.”

“What is it that you want to do?”

“You know what I want to do,” I fire back.

Her mouth snapped shut. She came and sat down next to me. “You’re the only one stopping that from happening.”

“Existentialism doesn’t work when you live in a nuclear wasteland,” I responded as she put her head on my shoulder. “You’re looking for trouble,” I whisper as her hair tickles my ear.

“Maybe I am.” She shifted so her bicep rubbed mine. “Though, I suppose, you’re looking for it too.”

I stared out ahead of me, looking at the stars that peaked up from the line of mountains. The sun was sinking fast, so only a small blue line spread across the sky, and it only served to continue to illuminate the stars. They were twinkling, like the look in Ingrid’s eye or the way the last rays bounced off her pendant. I wanted to sink into the folds of her essence, even if that was the exact trouble she was getting me into. Her cheekbones were highlighted in the rising moonlight, eyes curled up in a smile. I flicked her black hair behind her shoulder, holding it close to my nose for a brief moment. Beauty incarnate.

“You’re right.” I sighed as I sat back to look her in the eye. “I don’t understand why things got so twisted around here, but they did. Perhaps Mother wants it that way. I can’t tell. She doesn’t speak to me. But you knew that, didn’t you?” I joked, tugging on the braid in her hair.

She smiled, poking my shoulder. “Yes. Perhaps She doesn’t exist at all, have you thought of that?”

My eyes widened, and I almost looked behind me to make sure no one heard her. “That’s not true, and you know it. Why else are we here?”

“Pure chance. Luck. Destiny.” She moved closer to me; her breath fanned over my face. “Have you considered why we’re here?”

I sat back, sitting upright. “No.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Mother exists. Nietzche was right, but Mother isn’t God.”

“I think Father killed her, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“The words have been twisted. The principles have been twisted. Shit, we worship the Earth because of some age old religion that ruled the before times. Wake up, Cherry.”

We weren’t close to each other anymore. We both sat upright, rod straight. Her dark, arched brows captured my attention and I stared at them as she stared at the plains of my face. “It’s not like you and I can do anything to change that. Father rules over us, protects us. At least we have food. At least we’re living in the meantime.”

“I don’t think we’re going to be here for long.”

“I-” I stuttered, stopping. “Grit, what are you on?”

Her eyes were serious. Their brown expanse was narrowed for the first time in a long time. They were hard, determined to be taken for reality. She looked practically possessed. Her dark eyes were almost black. She didn’t speak for a moment. “Ingrid, please, tell me.”

The lost, yet determined, look in her eyes faded and she grabbed my chin, pointing my head towards the sky. “You see all those stars?” I made a noise to affirm yes. “Do you see that green one? Over to the left of the moon?” I made another noise. “That’s a new star. I don’t believe it to be a star, though.”

She let go of me, though her hand held my face still. “Oh,” is all I said. The world came together like a puzzle piece at that moment. That was why she was being so careless as of late. That’s why we were here now.

“You’re going to kiss me before the world ends, right?” I asked in a petite voice that almost broke. It was the only thing I thought of as it occurred to me that my prediction would be coming true sooner than I thought.

It was then that she tucked her hands into the base of my ponytail, anchoring herself to me as she pulled me forward to touch her lips to mine. They tasted of cherry chapstick, something she must have collected when she went out exploring to the local abandoned gas station a few days ago. My tongue instinctively reached out for a better taste, and she let me in. It was then that my hands were all over here, and she kissed me harder.

A week passed, and the Ceremony was upon us. Cola was going to be the star of the show. She was dressed in a red bridesmaid dress we found on one of the group explorations we went on. It fit her perfectly, and coupled with the dandelions in her curly red hair, she was fit to be the Solstice Queen. Kyle was also dressed in his suit that he’d worn for the past two years. Ingrid sat in front of her sun dial, dressed in her normal pair of jeans and a t shirt with holes. She couldn’t be convinced to dress up. I, however, was in a new dress Father had given me. It was a wedding dress like Princess Di’s. It was found in a thrift store, and he had held onto it for this Solstice celebration. It was poofy, and I was forced to wear the headpiece with it. I looked like a sullen bride, with my stained face and ratty hair. Queenie dyed my lips red with leftover strawberry juice. Gritty told me I looked like a pig to slaughter. She was probably right.

“Cherry,” Father called out in his quiet tone. “Come ‘ere.”

I shuffled towards him, passing Kyle and Cola, who stood whispering and touching each other. “Yes, Father?”

The sun was high in the sky, forcing Father to cover his eyes. “Will you get Ingrid in her dress? I know you two are close.” When he saw the light leave my eyes, he continued, “We have to prepare for our Solstice Queen’s first Outing.”

“Yes, Father.”

“I’m sure you can persuade her,” he said with a smirk.

My heart levitated, escaping my ribcage. I looked across the field, over Father’s shoulder, and made eye contact with Gritty. She was looking straight at me with a similar expression to the other night when she revealed to me the nature of the future.

“Yes, Father.”

I passed by Ingrid, nudging her shoulder with mine as I grabbed onto her and forced her to follow me. “Get your fucking dress on,” I mumbled as I led her to her tent.

“He knows, doesn’t he?”

“Probably. He’s acting funny.”

“How would he know?”

“You don’t exactly hide it.”

“Neither do you. You drool in my presence.”

I glared at her. “Bitch.”

“It’s just the truth.”

I rolled my eyes. “Just get dressed. It’s almost twelve. We have to get this show on the road.”

“Wow jeez can’t wait.” Her voice was saccharine.

I didn’t respond. I just waited for her to get into her flowy gown. It was peach colored, and it made her look washed out. Her hair stood out, at least. I played with the ends of it after I helped zip her into the dress. “You look great,” I said in an aimless attempt at flirting.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

It was a miracle she was here. Ingrid had the magical way of being everything all at once. She made me want to relive the artifacts of the past, to dive into that sarcophagus. It hurt knowing that the world was taking that away. It had taken away so much. Mother had taken away so much. I suppose someone has to pay for the sins of the humans past, but I didn’t imagine it would be me. The visceral part of me, in my heart, felt the pain of this realization. I was the penance for disrespecting Mother. This was my service. This was why we did the Solstice Outings. This was why Kyle, Father, and Vlad and the rest of them could fuck whoever whenever. It was why they called it fucking for them instead of an Outing for us. It felt wrong to call what me and Gritty did fucking. It wasn’t that. It was something sweeter, less one-sided. Then again, what we did is the sin that brought us to this aftermath in the first place.

“Is this the price we pay?” I asked as I braided her hair. “Forever damned to a lack of pleasure and to death?”

“I suppose.” She sighed, looking disjointed though connected to what I was saying. “It doesn’t have to be like this. We choose it to be.”

“There you go with existentialism again.”

“It’s not philosophy, my dear. It’s how things are.”

“I didn’t ask to be left to this world. To be forced into this stupid shit.”

“No, you didn’t. But you worship the people, the men, who made it this way.”

“So do you.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true.”

I let go of her last braid, letting it come undone. “Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

“What does being free mean to you, Cherry?”

“What are you? A cheesy sitcom? Let’s go.”

I walked out of the tent without looking back. Whatever. Whatever. Whatever.

The Ceremony lacked the pomp and circumstance that many of past Ceremonies would have had. There weren’t many flowers we cultivated beyond weeds. We made a bed out of hay, grass, and these pesky flowers. Ingrid and I held onto Cola as we walked her into the circle of people, which consisted of our tribe. Father stood at the head of the pack, with Kyle standing next to him and Oppa on the other side. She was the eldest in our bunch, so she got to be on his right hand side while Kyle stood on the left. Everyone hummed the Hymnal, while sometimes people sang a few of the words.

Danke shoen, darling. Danke schoen...

I wore the veil in front of my face while Gritty and Cola bowed their heads. Cola was only fifteen, from the looks of her, and I felt a pang in my heart as I remembered that Kyle was two years older than me. He was twenty. The difference sat in the pit of my stomach, sickening me, as Cola smiled so sweetly at him. We were by the bed of flowers now. The humming had stopped. She was pure, still. She was worth worshipping. That would change once this was over. She’d be expected to work the fields, collect things. She’d become withered and worn like the rest of us. She was no stranger to hard work, I knew that. She had survived for this long on her own when her mother died a few months ago. Her innocence was simply so palatable in this moment. Though, perhaps that was the problem. I boiled her down to this ball of naivety when she probably had seen more shit in her lifetime than I had. She was nomadic, built with “street smarts” as they used to call it. She was human. That was why the disgust laid heavy on me.

Father put his hand on Kyle’s shoulder. He smiled in his robes, which were really just shawls we found and blessed him with. He stood with a glint in his eye as he spoke.  “Thank you, everyone. Mother Earth has blessed us with a new addition, and may we bless her unto the Earth and manifest Her bounty.”

We nodded, some people making a few grunts in affirmation. Gritty stood stoic, unwilling to do anything more than bow her head. I saw out of the corner of my eye a droplet fall from her face to the floor.

“Cola, darling, step away from your sisters and lay yourself upon our Mother.”

The human stepped forward, kneeling before Father, reaching up to touch the top of his toes from a praying position, before she moved to lay on her chest. From there, Kyle stepped forward, bowing to Father, and then he bent down to unzip Cola’s dress. The red peeled back to reveal white. It was like reverse bleeding. Instead of finding the depth of a person, we were finding the outer shell. Perhaps that was how one got through this.

From there, she was stripped. The dress fell from her chest, revealing her budding breasts, before Kyle pulled it down and off of her, revealing her naked body to the rest of us. He touched her breasts, cupping them roughly, before biting at them. She laid there still, waiting for it to be over. Or at least that’s what I presumed. She didn’t act enthused. That wasn’t her job. Her job was to be there, to pleasure him. Everyone started humming, though not the Hymnal. A different song.

I made it through the wilderness,

Somehow I made it through.

Thankfully, we didn’t sing the lyrics. We hummed. We hummed louder when she started to groan in pain. We hummed even louder when he covered her mouth. We hummed louder still when he finished. We stopped when she sat up. She covered herself again, walking to join us again. She had given herself unto the Earth.

“She gave herself unto him,” Gritty whispered.

I didn’t respond. The sun shined in my eyes, blinding me, as we walked away. Kyle wouldn’t be ready again for another five hours or so, leaving us to tend to Cola before it was my turn. Then, we would turn in for the night before it was Ingrid’s turn in the morning.

It was strange, having an appointment for something like this. It made it better, I suppose, than being shocked by it. Cola wiped at her eyes as we went to Ingrid’s tent. I offered her a shoulder, wrapping an arm around her as we all piled onto Gritty’s cot.

When the sun started to set, we were woken from our nap. Father stood at the opening of the tent. His hands rested on his hips, making dual triangles. His face read of disappointment.

“You silly girls,” he said with a jovial smile, the disappointment fading. “You know it’s inappropriate to sleep together.”

“Sorry, Father,” I started as Cola started to wake up next to me.

“Shut up,” his voice came out hard. He softened as he said, “Just don’t do it again, okay?” though he looked to Cola, not me.

“Sorry, Father,” she said quietly.

“Good girl,” he said back before walking away.

Funny how easy it is to become a pet if you let yourself. Though that was what Gritty was talking about. I chose not to judge Cola because of this.

We got up, picking at each other to make each other primed for another Outing. Gritty fixed my hair, sneaking a small kiss on the cheek before the tent door opened and Oppa came in.

“Let’s go, girls. There’s a shooting comet we see coming our way across the sky. We want to watch it when the sun goes down.”

Gritty and I looked towards each other, and she smiled. My Outing was on a schedule. My life was on a schedule. We knew what this meant. I looked Oppa in the eye. “I’m coming!” It came out happy, bright. It was filled with the last squeeze of life from my lemon.

I left the tent in a flourish. This was it. This was the end. I felt the joy buried beneath me come undone. The string has been cut! I am free. I walk quickly, with Cola and Gritty on either side of me.

“You’ve never looked so excited to be fucked like a stuffed pig,” She teased me quietly.

I looked over to her as we walked to the tune of the Hymnal. “It doesn't have to be like this, remember?” I smiled wide, aware that I looked a little unhinged.

“Yes, you’re right,” she whispered before I stepped away and kneeled down. I didn’t bother to touch the toes of Father before I laid down. In fact, I reached behind me and started to work my zipper down. Kyle murmured, “I got it,” but I didn’t listen to him. His hand stood close to mine as the zipper was worked down. The fabric billowed around me, squishy as I worked my way out of it.

“Cherry, this isn’t how the Outing goes,” he whispered quietly as Father stared down at us.

I didn’t respond. I finished my way out of the dress. I stood up, stepped out of it, and looked Gritty in the eyes. I was naked. Exposed. The stars were looking upon me, as was everyone else. I chose this. It was then that a hand pushed me down, hard, onto my knees. I saw Gritty freeze up, and Cola held onto her harder.

“Cherry,” Father’s voice came out cold. “This is not how the Outing is done.” He pushed me back onto the bed of growth. “Have your way, Kyle,” he said as I laid there, spread out like a plate of hors de o’deauvrs. The circle began to sing.

My fear is fading fast

Been saving it all for you

He bit me, ate my skin, before he fucked me. It was a blip in time. I looked towards the green star, the thing that was coming to destroy us. It was beautiful. I saw life in it. I saw the beauty in all things. I forgot that there was a boy fucking me, brutalizing me, making me his meal. His object. I didn’t care. I wasn’t his. I was this star’s. I was death impending. I was free.

When he was done, I didn’t wait. I plopped upright and walked away naked, forgetting the stupid costume. I wrapped an arm around Gritty’s waist before taking her hand and running off into the night. My bare feet pounded across the wasteland’s floor. The star was coming closer. It would be here soon. I knew this chapter was coming to a close. I was going to end it with her.

We made our way to the edge of the forest.

“Can I unzip you?” I asked Ingrid.

She nodded, smiling, as she turned around and pulled her elegant hair towards her front. It twinkled and wrinkled down her breasts. She was elegance, the form of death that I least expected. I pulled her close and kissed her, enveloping myself in her the way I needed to a week ago. I heard the sounds from the camp as the sun disappeared but the star came closer and illuminated the expanse of earth. I paid them no mind as I danced with Ingrid. Eventually, we became dizzy and fell.

Her hand laid on my bicep, and mine on hers. We stared up to the sky as we had a week ago when we kissed for the first time. The green of the meteor shooting towards us blinded me, but I kept my eyes open. I started to sing quietly as Ingrid’s fingers played at my skin, touching me. “Danke schoen, darling, danke schoen. Thank you for walks down Lover's Lane.”

My voice was awkward, and I didn’t sing in tune. Ingrid rolled into me all the same, shielding herself from the green glow. I wrapped her hair around my finger. This was death. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. She was who I wanted to die with.

“This is what free means to me,” I whispered as she continued to hum the song, taking it for her own.

I could see the details of the rock now. The edges were curved, like the indents of her body. My heart left its cage. It floated above me, blocking out the death rock. This was what was coming to claim me. It sung the song of my soul, repeating back to me the song I had just been singing. It was mine. This was my choice.

The green became more intense. She wrapped herself closer to me. My heart sung louder. This was it. Whatever. Whatever. Whatever.

[hj-creates]

A Possible Scandal

So, I wrote a little Laurens/Madison fic. I’ve never attempted this ship before, but @layaisdaboss requested it and it’s honestly adorable.  The link to the fic on Ao3 is here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27359851 but feel free to read it here as well.

Pennsylvania, Fall of 1780

John stared out the window of the carriage as it rumbled over the cobblestones. His father, Henry, noticed his son’s dour expression and heaved a sigh. “You don’t have to pout you know, I promise you only have to stay a week or so.”

“I should be back with my men on the front lines.”

“There are many ways to fight for your country, my boy. Not all of them involve risking your life on the battlefield.”

“It suits me better then pontificating in stuffy chambers or arguing over fancy dinners.”

“The war won’t last forever, John. When it’s over, the colonies will need well-spoken, well-educated men to lead our new nation. As my son, you are in a good position to help shape the laws and create what this country can become.”

John turned quickly back to his father. “Doubtful. They don’t listen to me now. How many times have I begged them to create a militia of slaves and ensure their freedom once the fighting is over? We rail against the unjustness of the British, but they have given the enslaved that same opportunity. If for no other reason then we are losing thousands of smart, strong men to the other side should we do this, but no. People like Jefferson and even Washington himself refuse to see the hypocrisy of fighting for independence while keeping human beings in chains.” He gave his father a fiery stare.

Henry exhaled and turned away. “I did support your effort. I am sorry it didn’t pass the house.”

“And when, exactly, were you planning on freeing the slaves in your own home?” John said coldly.

“It’s not that simple, John. There are economic and societal-“

“With all due respect, father, stuff it.” John clenched his jaw. “I’ve heard all these arguments before.” He sat back and Henry tersely obliged, happy to see the State House finally coming into view.

John suffered through the numerous introductions and polite exchanges before he and his father finally took their seats in one of the many rows of benches that gave the Great Room the feeling of a church. Most of the discussions seemed to be more about accounting than the high-minded discourses on the birth of a republic that Henry had promised. As the older, fat statesmen argued over the budget of the Continental Army and how they simply couldn’t spare another dollar for those fighting on the front lines, John had had enough and stood up.

“We’re starving out there!” His impassioned voice filled the cavernous hall. “Do you have any idea how many men died during the winter at Valley Forge? How many soldiers perished not due to British muskets but hunger and frostbite? You ask these brave souls to fight for you and then you make them march over frozen fields without even socks on their feet! And that’s not even the worst part. These patriots are getting sick and dying. Forced to live in squalor and drink filthy water because we have no money for a decent shelter or proper sanitation. You should be ashamed of yourselves. Quibbling over a few coins for the army while you dine on fine china and drink from crystal goblets. As an aide of General Washington, I can attest that all in his house were forced to share the same plate at every meal. Militiamen are forced to steal from local farmers, even under penalty of death, just for a scrap of meat.” He felt his father’s hand on his arm. “But go ahead and debate the merits of fulfilling the latest request from the quartermaster. I hope your lavish feasts are worth the suffering of the men you claim to hold in such high regard.” He sat down and his nostrils flared, his anger apparent as Henry looked quickly at the faces around the room.

“Yes.” Henry loudly cleared his throat, obviously flustered and desperately trying to redirect. “We can certainly take into account what my spirited son has so passionately described for us. The well-being of those on the front lines should of course be considered when we deliberate how best to distribute our funds.”

John rolled his eyes. He glanced across the room and he noted most faces set in a frown as they regarded him with equal parts shock and disdain. Except for one. He looked at a face, younger than most of the other men there, who was actually smirking and seemed almost delighted. John gave him a little smile and the other man grinned in return. When his father was once again seated, ceding the floor to another delegate, John elbowed him softly and gestured across the room. “Who is that?”

“That is James Madison. A smart, young man from Virginia.”

John noted the name and let his gaze linger for a moment. Had he just found an ally?

As the day’s proceedings came to an end, John pushed through the throng of well-dressed men until he found who he was looking for. He stepped in front of the short, plump man and offered his hand. “Mister Madison? I am John Laurens. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

The other man smiled. “The pleasure is mine. That was quite the diatribe you gave today. It’s nice to have someone who has actually seen the atrocities of battle speak for our poor men out there fighting.”

Laurens scoffed. “All the impassioned words will mean nothing if we are not helped soon. Winter will be here soon enough and our soldiers still lack coats and boots and blankets. There is not enough food to eat since the locals have all decided to sell to the British now that American currency is worthless. These are dire times, my friend. I am sure you know as well as I. What regiment do you serve in? The Virginian Militia?”

“Oh.” Madison’s voice was soft. “I am unfortunately too unwell to serve in the field. I am second-in-command to my father though. A colonel in the Orange County militia. Since being elected to the Continental Congress, I have spent most of my time here. Your argument is something I have been pleading myself. The financial issues that plague us are quite a thorny mess but I am trying to amend the Articles of Confederation to let us impose a tariff on imports that we can use to support the army’s efforts.”

“You are?” John’s face softened and he smiled wide.

James nodded and he felt his cheeks grow warm, “I am trying. There is much resistance.”

“I will talk to Washington and Hamilton. Between the General’s sway and Alex’s persuasive writing, we can work to make this a reality.” John was talking faster, his enthusiasm growing.

“I would appreciate that very much.” James smiled.

“John!” The younger Laurens heard his father’s voice calling to him. Madison saw the change in John’s expression and recognized what it meant immediately.

“Lieutenant Colonel.” James nodded to Henry. “I was hoping your son and I could enjoy a hearty dinner and a robust exchange of ideas tonight. I am friends with the owner of the Orchid Inn. He can give John and I a lavish meal and some much deserved wine.”

Henry narrowed his eyes, knowing his son too well. “Oh, that’s not necessary. You can dine with us tonight. I’m staying at a lovely little home off Main St.”

John grimaced and James looked unsure of what to do. “I.. uh… that’s very kind of you sir.”

“Very well.” Henry seemed proud of himself. “See you at seven. I’ll send a coach.”

After an awkward dinner, John finally tossed his napkin on the table when he finished his dessert. “Well then father, if I may be excused, James and I would like to take our leave and relax a bit at the tavern across the street.”

Henry peered up at his son with an almost imperceptible scowl on his face. “We have plenty of brandy and cordials here, but I suppose you are hoping for a moment with Mr. Madison that isn’t under the watchful eye of your father.” John didn’t respond but pleaded with his eyes. “Fine. I can assume you will have the utmost respect for Mr. Madison’s stature… and dignity.”

John knew exactly what his father was hinting at. “Am I not always the pinnacle of honor and manners?”

His father arched an eyebrow. “Remember you are a married man, Jackie.” The fact seemed to take James by surprise.

John forced a smile. “How could I forget? I’m haunted every day by it.” With that he grabbed the coats that were hanging by the door and handed Madison’s to him.

They wasted no time hurrying to the tavern and finding a small, corner table near the fire. After the bottle of burgundy had been uncorked and their glasses filled, Madison eagerly started in.

“I must say, Colonel Laurens, your stories of action on the battlefield are most exciting.”

John shrugged. “There is much chance for glory while fighting. Me and my friends seem to be always narrowly escaping death.”

“Is that so?” James leaned in closer. “You must be very lucky then. I see no scars and detected no injuries.”

“Lucky, perhaps. But not injury free. There are mementos from the war all over my flesh, a slight ache in my leg from when my horse was shot out from under me and a mighty scar on my shoulder from where a musket ball went straight through.”

James’s eyes were wide. “Are you serious? How did your arm not get blown clean off?”

John smirked. “Didn’t let it. I had more important things to do than whine about being hurt. We were trying to ambush the Brits. I was leading a company of men. I got shot, tore off my sash, wrapped it around the hole to stop the bleeding and kept marching.”

Madison sat there in rapt attention. “That can’t be true.”

John drained his glass and set it down hard. “You don’t believe me?” He grinned and kept his eyes focused on James. He shrugged off his jacket and unbuttoned his waistcoat. He loosened his cravat and unbuttoned his shirt. James felt his jaw grow slack and quickly looked around the bar to see if anyone was watching this spectacle. John didn’t stop staring at James and yanked his shirt open, sliding one of the sleeves down his arm and revealing a circular-shaped scar, bumpy red skin, and stripes of white where the wound tried to heal itself.

James sat back and exhaled. He knew such an injury would have been the end of him. “That’s… impressive.”

John finally looked away and redressed. “That’s nothing.” He said nonchalantly. “I have scars like that all over.”

James didn’t know what to say and he certainly didn’t want to picture where exactly those scars would be.

After a few more drinks, Madison grew bold. “Why did your father have to remind you about being married?”

John snorted. “Oh that’s just Henry. He probably thought I was going to seduce you.”

“What?” James felt his heart race and he mildly started to panic. “Seduce me? What? Why would he think that? I’m- I’m a.. umm..”

“It’s not you. He’s caught me with men before.”

James felt as if the entire earth had shifted underneath him. “He what?”

John sighed. “If you want to leave because of that, I understand.” He looked at James who showed no signs of going anywhere. “Yes. I occasionally engage in ‘unacceptable’ affections with men. My father found me once with Alex.”

“Alex?”

“Hamilton.”

“Hamil-“ James gasped and slapped his hand in front of his mouth.

John rolled his eyes and poured another large glass of wine. “Aye. But he is engaged now. Set to marry in a few weeks. So, it appears our romance, or whatever you want to call it, has come to an end.” He took a long sip. “Which is better for him, I suppose. All his ambitions.” He emphasized that last word, like it was something he and Alex had fought over many times. “Better for him to secure a spot in an illustrious household headed by one of the most powerful men in New York.” He gulped more wine. “I mean, this fucking orphan is now going to be the son-in-law of General Schuyler. All because he wrote a few well-crafted love letters to the man’s daughter. I mean, you should see the things he wrote to me.” He laughed, a bit too loud. “Imagine being tossed aside by some simpering girl. To know that the letters he wrote to you weren’t anything special at all. It’s just how he talks to anyone he wants something from. To know that something you thought was monumental was just pedestrian to the person you loved. At least with Lafayette he is already married. He is open with how much he loves Adrienne and I know I will never compare to her. We just like having fun. But Alex…” His voice trailed off. “I just thought…” He sat back and let his head fall to his chest.

James watched him and a small smile crept over his face. “I understand.”

Laurens scoffed. “You couldn’t possibly understand what it’s like to be-“

“Jefferson.” James cut him off.

“I’m sorry?” John quickly looked up at him in confusion.

“Four years ago.  I first met him at the Virginia Constitutional Convention. I could barely speak. He’s very tall, you know, and quite handsome. He’s only eight years older than me but it felt like he had lived an entire lifetime more. Then last year, he became Governor of Virginia and I was on the Council of State. We worked closely almost every day and I thought…” he sighed. “We started working late into the night, just the two of us and we grew close. I didn’t dare initiate anything but eventually he did. I thought we could develop something, entirely in secret of course, but when I mentioned it, he laughed in my face. He asked if I really thought he give up all his other partners. He said he was sorry if I had gotten the wrong idea.” Madison swallowed hard. “But he didn’t seem sorry. He seemed… I don’t know. His smile was almost victorious. Like he had won something. I felt like an idiot of course. I haven’t even thought about a relationship with anyone since then.”

“Jefferson?” John looked deep in thought.

“Yes. I work with him every day still. It’s torture.”

“Jefferson…” Laurens still had a faraway look in his eyes. “You’re right. He is handsome.”

Madison’s shoulders slumped. “That. Was not the point of the story.”

Laurens laughed. “I’m teasing. But you know the best remedy for a broken heart.”

“More wine?” James smiled back.

“Not when there’s two of us.” John had a mischievous gleam in his eye and took Madison’s hand. He threw some coins on the table and led him to the door. “Come on. What do you say we get out of here? Find somewhere private and not think about Alex or Thomas or anyone else for an hour or so.”

“I’m not sure. It gets cold so quickly now. I really should be headed home.”

“Oh, don’t be a ninny.” He pulled the other man into the street. “Hmm... We could go down to the docks.”

“The salt water makes my asthma flare up.”

John looked up at the top floor of the tavern. “I suppose we could just sneak up into the attic. It’s just storage. No one ever goes up there.”

“With all that dust? Are you mad? I’ll be sneezing for hours.”

“What about the barn at my father’s house?”

“I’m allergic to hay.” John spun around in frustration and pushed Madison against the outside wall of the tavern. “What are you doing?” James whispered.

“Well, if we can’t go anywhere. Then I shall take you right here.”

“But what if someone sees?”

“I’ll say you were having trouble breathing. I was merely trying to keep your airways open.”

“With our clothes off?”

“Of course! Let that fresh air really get into your pores.” John grinned and James couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You’re as tenacious as you are charming.”

“Is that a yes?”

James took John’s hand and directed it to the growing bulge in his breeches. “What do you think?”

John sauntered back into the house and hung up his coat. He quietly crept up the stairs, trying to not make any noise.

“Must have been quite the conversation between you two.” Henry’s voice stopped him in his tracks. John turned and saw his father in the study. He sat in a chair by the window, smoking his pipe and facing the hallway.

“It was.” John said simply, without a trace of guilt in his voice.

“I assume you stuck with discussing policy and compromises between military and state?”

“Oh father, please. Of course not. That sounds dreadfully boring. We also talked about our families, what living in the trenches is like, and the different places we have visited in Europe.”

“I see.” Henry seemed to relax a little. “Well it seems like you two are building quite a friendship. I encourage you to get more acquainted with someone who comes from such a well-regarded family as Madison. That boy has a sharp mind and his father is quite wealthy. Well connected too. I think he is even mentoring under Jefferson.” John snorted at that. “What?” His father asked. “It’s true. I’ve seen them travel to and from Virginia together.”

“I’m not doubting you. James himself said he and Thomas are very close.”

Henry nodded and then started to pick up on John’s subtle comment. “Just understand there is much to be mined from a cordial relationship with Madison. He has already done so much at such a young age. He has the ambition and pedigree to really make it far. The two of you could be the future leaders of this nation. Taking after your fathers. I hope you plan on seeing him again.”

“Oh, I definitely do, father.” He sneered down at Henry triumphantly. “We have A LOT in common.” With that, he turned his back and went up to bed.

[fanficshiddles]

Best birthday, One shot

A one shot for @lokilover2000 Happy Birthday! I hope you like it. :-) 

Lexie meets Tom Hiddleston and he gives her a gift she won’t ever forget! Dom!Tom, daddy kink. smut! 

Lexie was so excited to be in New York for her birthday. Her friends had it all planned out for her. And as a surprise, they had taken her along to see Betrayal the previous day. They’d lucked out and met Tom Hiddleston at stage door afterwards, he was just as charming and handsome as she had hoped. Maybe even more so.

This evening though, she was out in a pub with her friends having some celebratory drinks. Shots included, of course.

‘Ok, Lexie… Don’t start freaking out… But…’ One of her friends said while looking over her shoulder.

‘What? Why?’ Lexie asked, starting to turn her head to look at where her friend was.

Her friend didn’t even get a chance to reply when Lexie laid eyes upon who had just walked into the pub. None other than Tom Hiddleston, with the rest of the Betrayal cast and a few other people. She couldn’t believe her eyes.

‘Oh. My. God.’ She said, eyes wide.

Tom looked around the pub and his sight briefly landed on her, making her blush as she quickly turned back around.

‘What are the chances?’ Her other friend laughed.

‘Are you going to go speak to him?’ Another asked quietly.

‘No! I don’t want to be like a creepy fan. Besides, I met him yesterday. It’s all good.’ She tried to brush it off as if it was nothing that her idol was in the same pub as she was.

Trying to ignore the fact he was sitting just a few tables away wasn’t easy. His signature laugh carried around the pub easily. But the girls still managed to have fun, the drinks kept coming easily and Lexie went up to the bar to get another round of shots in.

While she was waiting to be served, someone stood next to her and he smelled so good. Looking to her side, she looked up and let out a small gasp, because it was Tom who was next to her.

He glanced down and smiled at her when he spotted her looking. Then his eyebrows rose up in recognition.

‘Ah, you were at the play yesterday. Weren’t you?’ He grinned and turned in towards her more.

Lexie’s heart was racing, he actually remembered?

‘I was, yeah.’ She grinned.

‘Lexie, isn’t it?’ Tom asked, hopeful that he was right. But it wasn’t often he forgot a face.

‘Yeah, that’s me.’ She nodded eagerly. She couldn’t believe that he remembered her name, was she dreaming?

Tom glanced down and noticed the big ’21 Today!’ badge she was wearing on her dress. His face lit up.

‘Happy Birthday, darling! What a wonderful place to be spending it.’ He leaned down and gave her a kiss on the cheek, making her freeze in shock. But the biggest smile spread across her face.

‘Thank you so much.’ She said slightly giddily.

The bartender came over and took Lexie’s order. When she started taking cash out of her purse, Tom put his hand over hers to stop her.

‘This one is on me. Call it a birthday gift.’ He winked at her.

‘Oh, wow. Thank you. That’s very kind of you.’

‘You’re very welcome.’ Tom turned to her again after handing over some cash. She was sure that he looked her up and down, was he really checking her out? She didn’t want to believe it. But his tongue poked out briefly to wet his lips.

‘Once you’ve had your shots, would you perhaps join me for a drink? Just the two of us?’ He suggested, hopeful.

Lexie almost swooned. ‘I would love to.’ She said slightly over eagerly, making Tom chuckle.

‘Excellent. I’ll meet you at that little table over there.’ He motioned to the back corner where there was a table for two people sitting empty.

Lexie had never downed a shot so quickly in her life, her friends all whispered to her excitedly to have fun. That if she didn’t end up back at the hotel with them later, they wouldn’t be worried. She brushed them off, not expecting anything like that to happen… Even if she hoped it would.

Tom was already at the table when Lexie went to join him. She was feeling so nervous, but excited at the same time. He had been the one to strike up a conversation with her, he remembered her and wanted to have a drink with her. Surely it was everyone’s dream, she couldn’t believe how lucky she was.

‘How does it feel being twenty-one, then?’ Tom grinned when she sat down opposite him.

‘Uhm… pretty much the same as yesterday.’ Lexie laughed.

The two talked about anything and everything. Tom was very easy to talk to, the conversation just kept flowing. And he was enjoying speaking to her, she was bright and funny. And hell, she was very attractive too. Whilst he was battling with himself about whether he should be lusting after a twenty-one year old, he couldn’t help himself.

He reached across the table and brushed his thumb against the back of her hand that was holding her drink. Goosebumps rose up on her skin under his touch, giving him all he needed to know.

‘Would you like to come back to mine?’ He asked boldly with a smirk.

Lexie’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘I… Really? You… Want me to?’ She stuttered.

Tom chuckled and took her hand into his. ‘I do. Do you?’

‘I… Yeah… I just… wasn’t expecting this.’ She admitted.

Tom stood up and put his hand out towards her. She bit her lower lip, then put her hand into his and allowed him to pull her up to her feet. She glanced over at her friends, who were staying quite but gave her big grins when she walked out of the pub with Tom Hiddleston.

‘Hope you don’t mind being with an older man.’ Tom teased, winking at her when he hailed a taxi.

‘No… No, not at all.’ She blushed.

‘You know.’ He leaned in close to her, his breath against her ear as he slipped his arm around her. ‘Some say that older men are more experienced at… many things.’ He purred.

‘And what, exactly, is many things?’ Lexie asked, swallowing hard.

Tom gave her a wolfish smile in response.

-

Lexie soon found out what he meant when she found herself back at Tom’s apartment, where he was staying for the duration of the play.

He took his time undressing her, savouring every moment and every inch of skin that was revealed to him. Once he had her naked, he gently pushed her onto the bed and started taking off his own clothes.

Lexie lay on the bed, watching him with hungry eyes as he became as naked as she was. When he climbed onto the bed, she lay down fully as he moved over the top of her. He cupped her cheek and held her still as he started kissing her, slowly and deeply.

Tom liked how responsive she was to him, the way she was kissing him back enthusiastically and running her hands up and down his back. Feeling his muscles.

He started peppering kisses down her jaw line and then down her neck, making her moan when she closed her eyes and threw her head back. He continued his journey south, down her chest and over her breasts. He flicked his tongue over her nipples, pulling some more moans out of her that was a delightful sound.

Lexie squirmed from the way his beard tickled against her skin as he moved down her. When he reached his destination, he pulled her legs over his shoulders and dove in for his feast.

He certainly hadn’t been lying when he said that older men were more experienced. She was sobbing in utter pleasure as he made her cum on his tongue. But he didn’t stop there, he continued on until she had another orgasm.

‘Delicious.’ Tom growled, looking up at her with wild eyes.

He dropped her legs from his shoulders and moved up over her body again, placing himself between her legs. He took hold of her wrists and pinned them down above her, wrapping one of his hands around them both to keep her in place.

‘Are you going to be a good girl for Daddy and let him fuck you senseless?’ He whispered, nuzzling her neck.

She gasped at his choice of words, but she nodded. ‘Please, Daddy. Please!’ She whimpered and wriggled beneath him.

Tom was pleased that his stab in the dark at what she might be into was correct. He used his free hand to slide down her body until he was between her legs, where he lightly touched her clit and stroked it firmly in circles.

‘Ask nicely, I want to hear you beg. Tell Daddy what you want.’ He urged her on, sliding his fingers through her folds.

‘Please… Daddy. Please, fuck me! Please!’ She begged, her cheeks bright red from having to ask like that, but it was turning her on like crazy.

‘Since you’ve asked so nicely.’ Tom chuckled and obliged by lining himself up with her entrance. He pressed a kiss to her lips, distracting her for a moment just as he thrust home into her.

Her breath was taken from her, not only at the kiss, but from the way he was intruding in her body. It took her a while to adjust to his size, her body was squeezing and clamping around his cock until it settled nicely around him. Then he started to move and it was like nothing she’d felt before.

Tom continued teasing her clit while he moved within her, grinding deep and hitting all the right spots. He swallowed up her moaning and whimpering, squeezing her wrists now and then to remind her that he was in charge. She enjoyed that, as each time he did it she would clamp down on him for a few seconds.

‘Are you going to cum for Daddy again? All over my cock?’ He asked over her lips, after taking a breath.

She couldn’t speak, could only nod and make incoherent noises.

Tom chuckled and started really concentrating on her clit as he angled his hips in the right way, so he would hit over her g spot with every thrust. He fucked her senseless into the mattress, making her cum for the third time. This time all over his cock.

When Tom was finally finished with Lexie, making her cum once more from his expert fucking, he finally came too and emptied into her. She cried out from the feeling, her legs shook violently in all the pleasure while her toes curled.

‘That’s it, such a good girl.’ Tom praised and kissed her forehead as he rolled to the side, pulling her with him as his cock slipped out of her.

‘Oh… my god.’ She panted, curling into him as she felt a bit vulnerable.

Tom’s strong arms remained around her, protecting her. He held her tightly and rubbed her back soothingly, until her trembling had ceased. He grabbed the quilt and pulled it up over them both, to keep them warm as their temperatures dropped dramatically from the adrenaline drop.

‘Do… do you want me to leave?’ Lexie asked quietly, not sure what she should be doing now.

‘You’re not going anywhere, little one. Daddy’s got you.’ He said softly, squeezing her tightly.

Her heart soared at his words and she buried her head into the crook of his neck, enjoying the warmth from him. She sighed in content and fell asleep in his arms.

It was definitely the best birthday ever.

[intensitystoner]

Adjective challenge 7 – Noisy Sifki mush ~ 2,000 words

“Thor,” muttered the sorcerer under the book atop his face.

The one addressed couldn’t hear from the wall between them, and from the blood drumming in his head; from the ruckus he and his generously paid bedding company were making.

“Thor, be quieter,” Loki tried again dryly. He was a hair away from actually rising up and breaking the pair apart; the only thing that held him back was that he’d have his drunk brother’s attention on himself afterwards, and he had better things to do than babysit him all night. Thor was the tireless kind of drunk, he only passed out with the first rays of the sun, if ever.

Loki shuddered at the thought of having to listen to this hours long. He deemed it better to spend the time somewhere a little more tranquil, if there was no comfort in his bed anyway; and with that thought, he pulled his soft leather tunic over the shirt and headed out. There was a lake near the inn they were forced to draw back in for the night.

The silence buzzed along with the critters’ ruckus inside his head, and it already started calming his irate pulse as he lazily trod across the grass to the clearing among the reeds. He only stopped when the front of his boots almost touched the water. He breathed the calmness down, deep and long.

He swirled around abruptly as he sensed company: his eyes strained to take in the sitting figure no more than two feet away in the shade of the tall plants.

“Yes,” Sif mumbled. “It’s quite a concert in there.”

While her presence sent a familiar flutter of warmth into his stomach, he afforded a faint smirk in the dark at the entertainment offering itself.

“Nothing surprising, unfortunately,” he attempted mild humour to tap out the depth she had sunk in.

He’d suspected for a while that the maiden was not indifferent towards him, which lifted his spirits significantly when brooding over it; but her displayed attitude was no different from everyone else’s, and it should have repelled him. If he’d been like everyone else. But he was Loki, and it was exactly secrets like that he collected for later usage. What kind of usage, it depended on the situation.

“It saddens you,” he pointed out softly, earning an irate huff as an answer.

“Norns, not you. Please.”

“Am I ever wrong at guessing thoughts?"

"You are today," she told him in a tone forcibly light. "And that does sadden me a little. If you don't see through this farce, then how could anyone else?"

Loki’s eyebrows arched in surprise.

"A mystery, then, which I hope you'll reveal to me. Perhaps I can then help people see the truth."

In response, she pulled the hood of the cloak over her head and then down into her face. Her hands fell into her lap as an angry weight. Her voice came somewhat muffled from the makeshift textile fort.

“I just let them hint at our promising future at the feast, in front of everyone.”

“I know, I was there,” Loki acknowledged the feeling with a soft sigh and settled down next to her on the dried reed stalks. He saw her much more clearly from here, now that they were in the same shadow.

“You also know it’s always been just a dumb gossip with too much attention.”

“People love discussing things they have no business in.”

“But I allowed it for open discussion tonight. I’m failing to keep it out of my life. I let it happen today out of sheer laziness. I’ve been tired of labouring to destroy these tales about us.”

Yes. Tales, with no more than a snippet of truth in each. Many of them started off by the God of Mischief, for various purposes from a beneficial exchange to simple entertainment. Thor had never cared what people said about him. Even today when all those tales, and more, were hinted at, he laughed along. Alcohol was already shining in his eyes by then. His interest in it was as meagre as his general sense for consequences.

“No matter,” Loki said. “You’re strong and valorous. Such tales won’t hold up long amidst all the heroic deeds you have and will perform.”

“Right," she answered, but it didn’t sound convincing.

Sif, beautiful Sif was careful about her reputation, she nourished and polished it with great care, which was no wonder: as a woman, it cost her blood and sweat to prove worthy of her position. And her tooth-gritting hold onto these proofs showed how fragile she was in truth. Not in her body, and not in her eyes. She was not brought down in everyday senses. She was the Warmaiden. She was power itself.

This power was now weeping silently in the shade of the hood. Loki didn’t know if she mourned her dignity or something she wouldn’t admit to him, but his hand travelled to the back of her neck, then in slow circles across her back as she bent her head deeper.

“I’m well enough to do without your pampering,” she noted, her voice now thin and soaked.

“I’m Loki, I do what I want.” It came out weaker than intended.

"That's it. Everything serves your purpose, which I don’t see now."

"I do hate seeing you disrespected like this, Lady Sif."

Her breaths quieted down, although her arms were still a tight barrier around her, before she timidly spoke again.

“You haven’t stopped supporting my ambitions up to this day. Don’t think I don’t notice your helpful doings in the background. Yet you keep distant like with everyone else.”

He smirked lightly at the note; the hand disappeared from her back.

“People are aloof towards me, although rightfully. In most cases, it’s them that keep a circle around me.”

“You do get prickly when someone strays too close.”

There was a forced smile in her voice. He could tell that his closeness daunted her. It daunted most people by now, true enough; it was the reason why he kept distant. He didn’t feel like there was a chance anyone would trust in him after all his pranks.

“You’ll never need to be so cautious with me,” he admitted quietly.

He let the wanton promise roll of his tongue, as he did when he sensed his words attempting to lead somewhere. His hand reached across her back meanwhile to hold her arm and move her out of the hunched position. Trusting the natural flow of a conversation, letting control slip away at the right time was one of the tactics that often led him to a favourable point; partly because it was an unexpected move and caught the defender off-guard.

His breath quietly faltered for a moment when the maiden’s other hand slid onto his.

“I would send it back at you,” she said.

He obeyed and stayed like that, then, with her cloaked shoulder leaning to his chest softly, although a hint of worry stirred in him that she might feel the flutter of his heart.

“Just for tonight,” he whispered an idea, “you could be my lady. That way, our resident oaf can’t abandon you.”

Her bent head indicated her look to be in her lap, her voice matching his.

“It is tricky indeed, and revolting like yourself. It’s unwise to answer with a heart as turmoiled as mine.”

“I ask nothing improper of you. I don’t invite your presence into my life, or your bed into my room. It’s merely an offer to better your mood for the moment, right at this place.”

A lukewarm smile hummed in her soft acknowledgement.

“How do you imagine that to happen?”

He imagined it precisely like this. Away from everyone. Away from everything. Plotting together against the world, weaving secrets of the two of them.

Wordlessly, his free hand lifted her fingers to his lips. He lingered over each of her nails, which smelled of the grass under them. Her slow breaths grazed his wrist meanwhile.

Her fingertips strayed onto his chin, a thumb over the corner of his faint smile. A nail outlined his bottom lip.

“This is a night of torment either way,” she breathed faintly.

“It’s far from my intention to increase your sufferings,” he muttered.

“A doubtful statement from the God of Mischief.”

“Your well-being is on my heart,” Loki asserted her.

“Doubtful,” she repeated.

As she bent her head and rested it in the crook of his neck, he was not entirely sure it was real; could have been a mawkish dream cast on himself by a spell against Thor’s rowdy merriment. Nevertheless, he was gallant enough to inquire:

“Would you like me to leave, then?”

Two fingers’ hold tightened slightly over a fold of his tunic.

“If you see fit,” she answered in the most level tone she could muster.

Not like Loki would ever not get what he wanted.

“It goes for any later moment. You need but to ask.” Those few words pushed the blame on her with ease, and she wouldn’t even notice.

She knelt up then, to his elevating excitement, but instead of straddling him with her sweet, sweet curves, she held the neck of his shirt in two fists between them, preventing anything but their breaths to contact.

“Would you have me? For real? Right here?” she inquired.

Oh, oh, he knew the answer to that one. He even knew what she wanted to hear (what was right).

“Tomorrow,” he blurted out, quite the opposite of the truth welling up in him; “I’d rather have you tomorrow when your mind gleams as clearly as your heart does now.”

“Does your silver tongue never abandon you?” she breathed over his lips, her whisper thick.

���It is attached to me,” he gloated: a suggestive note despite his previous statement.

“What it says bears responsibility, however.”

“The responsibility is yours, I am in no way worthy of guarding you.”

It was a half-hearted warning that reached her mind faintly through the haze, and she almost let it pass. Almost. She spoke unthinking as she reached after the slippery thought.

“I shall collect myself, then.”

“A token,” Loki said as a reluctant distance grew between them. “Proof that you will think again tomorrow, and give me a chance to draw out your answer.”

She rolled her eyes in defeat, and she leaned in to reach those smirking lips.

“A lock, for instance,” they formed before the contact would have been established, their smirk rather victorious; “that of your hair, would do.”

A frozen moment later, she drew back into her own space, firmly refusing to let embarrassment get to her. In silence, she removed the hood and offered access to the requested item. The trickster took it with a knife, his smile rather chaste, his silence bearing a hint of surprise over her compliance.

“It would look better if it was golden,” Sif mumbled to break the quiet.

“What would I need my brother’s hair for?” Loki inquired, suddenly in a cool tone, while sinking the lock into a freshly produced pouch and then making it disappear the way it came: an unnoticed flick of a wrist, and it was gone.

Sif stared at its empty space with growing worry.

“What about mine? What would you need that for?”

“Blackmailing you into an answer,” he said simply.

Figures.

“It’ll be hard to say yes when your guard is up again,” Sif noted.

“Oh, beautiful Sif, there is no guard,” he laughed quietly up at her. “It is all the people, not me, don’t you see it? I rush into my demise rather unguarded all the time.”

“We’ll see,” she answered as farewell while getting to her feet.

However, Loki moved together with her, standing up and getting a hold of her wrist lightly to stop the movement.

“And now for the promise of tonight.”

“You said you’ll let me go when I say so,” she claimed, though she didn’t try backing out of the hold.

“And so I will,” he answered while his hand slid into hers, pulling her along.

A single step, and they were walking on the lake’s unbroken surface: a mirror to the star-spotted darkness around them. She’d been given no time to protest, and fright rippled through her body in a late wave.

“I’m guessing I’d be deep in trouble if I asked you to release me right now,” she noted.

Feeling his gaze on her jawline, she knew his impish smirk without looking, while she took in the surroundings. No doubt it was a breath-taking sight, and she was nothing near wanting to turn back for now. As an unwilling smile spread on her lips, the wind reached them in their even walk, rippled the water, tugged at their hair, cooled down their faces. Only her hand remained warm in his.

Faint lights loomed up inside the water, but she couldn’t tell through the waves if they were stationary or chasing each other around.

Loki’s voice interrupted her musing.

“Which one would interest you more? Meeting the creatures living under or over the water?” he inquired, drawing her surprised look to himself.

“I prefer staying where air can reach my lungs, at any rate,” she decided.

He acknowledged the rightful desire with a nod. The lights illuminated their features while flying in and out of the water like the barrier never existed. The pair strolled on in the vast sea of stars hand in hand, and only Loki knew that they wouldn’t make it back by morning.

[inforapound]

Boundless  Chapter 3

A/N -  A story of King Harald and a spitfire Princess. Thank you, everyone, for reading. This is my first Harald fic. Let me know what you think. Beautiful cover by @naaladareia (When I first wrote this chapter Halfdan wasn’t it in. I rewrote it last night after a fun conversation with @naaladareia. I think we call can agree that we love these brothers together.)

Pairing - Harald and Safira

Words - 2,200

"Mm-hm, there she goes again," Halfdan stood at the end of a busy table, boot casually resting on the bench. Harald sat beside, arms up on the table with a full cup in hand, facing the opposite direction.

As the younger brother to a king, Halfdan felt it was his duty to be Harald's eyes and ears. Particularly now, considering his brother's tenderness toward manipulating young women. Halfdan did not know if this princess was acting with tactics. He would wait to judge. In the meantime, observe and possibly even encourage. She was awfully pretty. More so than the flocks of beautiful woman who usually angled for Harald.

"That is three times I have caught her looking over at you." Jerking back the long curtain of blonde hair, he continued to watch. Chatting with Aslaug, Safira's eyes flitted past the tall queen's shoulder toward their table. "Gods, Harald," he smacked the back of his shoulder. "You have that princess intrigued."

"Leave it," Harald grumbled.

Dropping his foot off the bench, Halfdan spun and slid in next to Harald. "Ready yourself."

"Hmm?" Harald squinted, glancing over.

"She moves this way," Halfdan replied, wiggling his eyebrows.

Looking down into his lap, Harald cleared his throat, smoothing his beard with his hand. Quickly straightening the jeweled medallion hanging from his neck. This is ridiculous, he thought, a King, preening for a girl.

The bothers' eyes moved in unison as Safira neared their table and walked past, never casting them a glance. Tracking her path, they watched her affectionally greet an older man, standing with a sharp-looking, well built, warrior. The resemblance suggesting the older man was his father.

"How...deliberate," Halfdan chimed, leaning his head close to Harald. "Who do you think those men are. She seems familiar with the one."

Harald shrugged. "Listen to you. Were you not the one who warned me, unneeded I will add, to stay away? Now you are offering commentary.

"What has changed? I thought you were love-struck," Halfdan smirked, shifting on the bench to better look at Harald. "Was it my warning?" he raised his brows. "Not to upset the understanding with Erik. Klak too, for that matter."

Taking a drink from his intricately carved cup, Harald sighed watching Safira smile and nod, listening to the Dane warrior speak. Her long, wavy, mahogany tresses hanging loose, nearly touching her elbows. Watching her politely engaged in conversation, he wondered if it was her mother's Graeci culture that had her leave her hair unplaited. It must have been hard to lose her mother at such a young age, he thought. Breathing deeply, he exhaled loudly through his nose. She was breathtaking in her rich blue dress.

"Leave it," he said again, nudging Halfdan with his shoulder. "I have my mind on another matter. We will sail to avenge Ragnar, but I have not lost sight of my dream of becoming King of Norway. It may serve my cause to return ahead of the others," he nodded his head toward where the sons of Ragnar sat, "to proposition the not-so-sad queen of Kattegat.

"Who could feel sad with that much ale in them," Halfdan whispered. "Who could feel anything at all." He lifted his brows. "You have earned your title as King, brother. Ellisif gave you that drive and fighting ambition.... That hunger. And now here you are." Turning to look at Harald, his long swath of hair fell loose. "Perhaps, it was not all in vain.

Looking over, Harald's forehead scrunched in question.

"Perhaps," Halfdan continued, "that conniving princess was never the prize, only the means.

"You were fated to be here, right now, with her dead and that," Halfdan pointed an obvious finger toward Safira, "spectacular woman wanting your attention."

"I am a tired King tonight and am trying to put her out of my head. And look at her," Harald's eyes narrowed toward her. "she has yet to say a word to me. All evening. Even at the sacrifice and I only stood four men away.

"Pfft, she cannot appear obvious while promised to another."

"And that is just my point Halfdan. There is no point."

"So, you are too old," Halfdan clucked his tongue. "The trunk no longer twitches," he sighed. "Do not let it bother you. It happens to everyone...eventually."

Growling, Harald shot him a look. "The trunk has not stopped twitching since I first laid eyes on her."

"Well, that right there would be the point." The curls of Halfdan's mustache rose into a grin.

Placing her hand on the arm of the good-looking Dane, Safira threw back her head in laughter.

"Without question, I know more about the fairer sex than you, and a woman only laughs like that when she is trying to attract another man.

Harald eyed her thoughtfully.

"She has been waiting for you to approach her."

"Halfdan, I am sitting here, in one place, to stop myself from approaching her."

"Harald, you are now free to move around."

"Why?"

"Your girl is leaving."

Shooting his head up, he watched her say goodnight and walk toward and out the open hall door.

Grunting to himself, Harald raised his cup to his lips, halting as fury flashed in his eyes. Lowering his cup to the table, he straightened.

"What is it?" Halfdan leaned over, bobbing his head to peer around a group of people standing between the tables.

"That man she was talking to, the younger one, he walked to the door, glanced back and then went out after her."

"Everyone here must know she is the daughter of Erik the Red."

"These warriors are filled with both mead and adrenaline." Looking side to side, Harald scanned the busy hall. "Where is that little stain that followers her around?" Grumbling, he swiveled, lifting his leg over the bench to stand.

"I am coming with you," muttered Halfdan, finishing his drink and pushing on the table to stand.

Patting Halfdan's shoulder, Harald leaned down to speak over the noise. "Stay, I will not be long. Get us another jug. I will be back to hear more of your wisdom on my poor luck with women."

—-

"I said goodnight," her voice rang out through the quiet street.

The metal grinding of a blade being unsheathed caused the tall man to spin around. Lurching forward, he stopped, the point of Harald's sword pricking the skin of his throat.

"Did you hear her?" Harald's voice growled. "You grabbed her arm as if you could not hear her words." Leaning his face forward with clenched teeth, "The princes said, goodnight," he spat, raising his lip in a snarl.

Lowering the sword, he stepped to the side, glaring at the man who took off past him, running down the lane and around the corner of a building.

Looking over, he saw Safira standing frozen, hands pressed to her chest, eyes wide, staring in the direction he had run.

"Did he hurt you?" his voice was soft. Placating.

Shaking her head slowly, her eyes were still focussed down the empty lane.

"Princess?" he stepped toward her, a hand up as if he to sooth a startled colt.

"Please," she glanced at him, blinking through her daze. Clearing her throat, she squared her shoulders. "Please, call me Safira," she pressed her lips together to simulate a smile.

"Can I walk you home?" his face showed his concern. He would be sure she got back safely, whether she granted it or not.

"I am fine," she swallowed rubbing her hand over the wrist that had been grabbed, "but you can still escort me."

Holding his hand up, he invited her to lead the way and she stepped forward, Harald stepping in beside.

"I should not be letting you walk me back, you know," she said, looking around at the small buildings they passed.

"Because your father will see?" Harald glanced over.

'No," she laughed dryly. "He will be well into a barrel by now. It is because I am mad at you."

Stopping on the path, Harald turned to look at her.

Slipping her hand into his arm, she pulled him gently forward, to keep walking, a subtle smile on her face.

"And, what have I done to offend you, Princess?"

"Safira," she reminded him. "You ignored me all night. I could not approach you two evenings in a row." Her smile widened, now reaching her eyes. "That would be...."

"Forward?"

"Desperate." Her eyes flashed wide.

Chuckling, he looked over at her again.

"You do not like me?" She stopped, turning to face him where they stood just up from the dock and harbour.

"The problem is," he breathed in filling his lungs, "I like you very much." He scanned the buildings where they stopped, "where exactly are you staying?"

"Harald, may I call you Harald?" she continued, not waiting for a reply. "I cannot actually remember where our lodgings are. Perhaps, if we walk to the end of the peer, the sea air will refresh my memory."

"Hmm," he hummed with amusement. Wrapping both of her arms into the crook of his, she leaned closer as they stepped onto the wooden planks.

"You are not answering me," she uttered.

"Did you ask me a question?" he smiled.

"Why did you not seek me out at the feast?"

Pausing again, he turned to face her, midway down the dock. Dropping his chin, he studied her beautiful face. "Safira, I have thought of little but you since we met at the riverside. After last night, I knew any attempt to push you from my mind was fruitless."

"Why would you want to?" she shrugged.

Furrowing his brows, he tipped his head further as if to reprimand a naughty child.

"Your father and I have been in...." he paused searching for the right word, "conflict... since I became King. He feels it threatens his title," he squinted, creating more soft lines at the edges of his bright eyes, "and it does."

Taking a step closer, she reached forward, picking up the deep blue stone, bezel set in rich gold, hanging from his neck. Placing it back down, her hand stayed resting on his chest. She said nothing but her curious eyes jumped between his mouth, nestled in his perfectly shaped beard, and his stern blue eyes.

"I am not going to kiss you," he said, shaking his head softly.

"Why not?" she tipped her chin up, her perfect lips now lifted in a smile.

"You are too young."

"To young to kiss?"

"Yes."

"But do you want to?"

"You are promised in marriage to the king of Denmark."

"You are a king." She fluttered her long dark lashes before sighing and dropping her hand from his chest, rolling her eyes. "Yes, I am promised to some old man who negotiated with my father for ships."

"I am an old man."

"Yes, but a handsome one," she giggled. "And one with many ships."

"You are young enough to be my daughter."

"And?"

"These are my reasons."

"Well," she stepped closer, resting both hands on his chest. Leaning forward, she brought her mouth close to his and grazed her upper lip across his. "Be unreasonable," she whispered.

With an exhale, he pressed his mouth hard to hers and raised his hands, clutching her arms and pulling her against him. Shifting the angle of her chin, she pushed back, softly whimpering against his mouth. Ignited, his chest fluttered, and heat coursed from their moving lips straight to his groin.

Frowning, he pulled away and stared at her still closed eyes. Never in his life had we wanted to make love, so intensely, to a woman.

"Safira," he whispered, "how old are you?"

Her smile fell and she opened her eyes, peering at him flatly.

"Nineteen."

"Nineteen!" he exclaimed, dropping his hands from her arms and staking a step back. "Nineteen years old?"

"Yes," she nodded.

"The belt I am wearing is older!" he grimaced, feeling elicit, his eyes scanning the docks for witnesses.

Stepping forward, she slammed her mouth again to his again and brought her arms up, wrapping them around his neck. Tipping her head, she opened her mouth wider and swept her tongue across his, causing him to groan and grab her lower back, pulling her against his body.

Letting go, she slid her hands down his chest, and pulled away. His breathing was heavy and his wise blue eyes scanned her face.

"Ah." She smiled, looking toward the row of buildings overlooking the peer. "I just remembered. I am staying right there," she said, pointing to a large chalet overlooking the water.

"Safira!" he rushed, partially chuckling.

"What?" she giggled, leaning forward and pressing her lips to the side of his neck.

"You are..."

"Wild?" she tipped her head back to meet his gaze.

"Free-spirited," he lowered his chin, wise to her game.

Stepping back, she pulled free from his embrace. "Goodnight my King," she smiled bowing ceremoniously.

Standing in place, he watched her turn and run up the dock and across the lane to the large house. Disappearing into a door at the side, Harald finally exhaled.

—-

Back in the noisy hall, he slid down into his seat next to Halfdan, grabbed his drink and emptied the cup, shooting his brother a look of warning.

Sighing dramatically, Halfdan shook his head. "We are so fucked."

MASTERLIST

@naaladareia @youbloodymadgenius @medievalfangirl @geekandbooknerd @lol-haha-joke @gearhead66 @whenimaunicorn @no-confidence-to-write @alicedopey @dreamwritesimagines 

[imaginesmai]

Hvitserk-Rewrite the stars

I tried to upload it sooner, but I’ve been sick for the last few days, I’m sorry! 

First of all, thank you @worldisadirtyplace for the idea, I LOVED IT. I wanted to write something different, that’s why it has taken a little longer. This is new for me, but I couldn’t read your request and don’t think about this song (it’s from the great showman, in case you don’t know it) I hope you like it! The parts that are in bold and italic are the parts of the song (Here it is in case you haven’t seen it).

“You know I want you, it’s not a secret I try to hide.”

Hvitserk Ragnarson was not used to the word “no”. If he wanted food, the thralls would have a hot bowl ready for him. If he wanted new weapons, all he had to do was to follow his mother around for a few days and she would get them, just to stop listening to him. If he wanted a woman, he looked up from his ale and at least five women were always looking at him. If he wanted to train, either his brothers or friends would be ready for him.

Hvitserk Ragnarson didn’t say “no” to anything. In his stomach there was always place for more food. His strength and energy was probably boundless, and he could be training and running around all day. And in his bed, there was always place enough for another woman. So he didn’t understand why you always said no.

You were a thrall, for Hvitserk the one of the most beautiful. For seven years, you had served the Ragnarsons and Aslaug, keeping your head down and helping them in everything you could. All the brothers had taken a liking to you, but except Hvitserk they stopped showing their interest when you just smiled at their compliments. The young prince couldn’t get you out of his head, no matter how many times his mother told him to find another thrall; he kept chasing you like a lost puppy.

Still, you said no. When he asked you to sit with him in the big feast, you only smiled kindly and shook your head, returning to your duties. When he tried to use his charms, he only got back blushed cheeks and rejection. Even when he offered you his bed during the cold winter nights, with no other intention than doing something nice for you, you told him no. All of that with so much kindness and softness that he couldn’t hate you for it. If only, it made him want you more.

“Maybe mother would have loved you if you weren’t that much of an useless man!” Ivar’s screams tore him away from his daydreaming, and he blinked twice to focus on the argument in front of him.

“You dare to say that to me, brother? You talk about being useless when your prick doesn’t work?” Sigurd shouted back, making Ivar’s head turn red

Ubbe was there too, with his head between his hands and a troubled expression on his face. It wasn’t worthy to try and tear them apart, because five seconds later they would be at each other throats again. The Ragnarsons’ relationship was always like that.

Hvitserk decided to ignore them too, and blocked his screams and punches from his mind. He had more important things to think of. Like, for example, that night’s sacrifice.

“Ubbe” he called his brother, moving to the seat beside him. “Tell me, are you going to the sacrifice tonight?”

“Of course” Ubbe frowned, and turned to look at Hvitserk. “It’s an offering for our future raid, why wouldn’t I be there?”

“Yeah, but the question is, are you going with someone?”

“With my wife.”

“Which one?”

Ubbe had two wives, and both of them were fine with that. The first one, Torvi, was a famous and brave shieldwoman who had been married to their older brother for years, until he went away and left her. She was beautiful and mature, and if Hvitserk had to judge, his brother was head over heels for the woman, and always tried to have his full attention. He followed her everywhere, trained with her and showered her with presents.

His other wife was different, Margarethe. Between her and Ubbe, there was a time where there was love and passion, but then it was all over. They didn’t divorced because Ubbe knew she was just an slave, freed by him and with no chances of building a life out of his house. So he had kept the two of them, even if Margarethe slept around with almost every man and had laid with all the brothers.

“Probably Torvi” he shrugged, a faint blush covering his cheeks. “I have yet to ask her, if she’s not going with Lagertha she will probably want to come.”

“And Margarethe?”

Since Hvitserk had started to follow you around, his only remedy was Margarethe. Ubbe didn’t care about sharing her with him, and she kept his mind away from the fact that you didn’t want him back.

“You can go with her” Ubbe rolled his eyes. “Although I would highly recommend you otherwise. You deserve so much more, little brother.”

“Probably, but for now she-“

“Well, then don’t be angry when Y/N is hanging by my arm. I bet she would like me much better than a crippled.”

Your name bought up in the conversation made Hvitserk look towards his brothers, who had their faces inches away from each other. Sigurd had a purple cheek, and Ivar’s lip was bleeding. Beside that, both of them were alive, and that was enough.

“Y/N doesn’t have a dick to stick on your ass” Ivar smirked. “She would rather go to the sacrifice with me. Not that you were even an option.”

“Hey, don’t drag her into your arguments” Ubbe said. “The poor girl has done nothing wrong.”

After that sentence, Ubbe had to get up and try to separate his brothers. Sigurd managed to grip Ivar’s arm, twisting it behind his back; while the younger one gripped his blonde braids and pulled. They shouted and screamed, and Ubbe got a few punches in the way. As a good Viking and a Lothbrok brother, he did not hesitate to return them, and soon the three of them were in the middle of a fight.

Hvitserk shifted on his seat, wondering if they were to ask you, you would choose one of them. Of course he had asked you first. For a week, he had followed you around and literally begged you to accompany him to the sacrifice. He had tried everything, from flowers and dresses to a song that he forced Sigurd to write. Still, all you said was no.

But his brothers were a different story, and in that moment he became painfully aware of that. Sigurd was the one who created the song, and had magic hands that could enchant any woman. Ivar was, well, Ivar. He was powerful, dangerous and had the God’s favour with him. He tried to force that thoughts out of him, yet he couldn’t. After all, what would you see in a man who shares his woman with his brother? Wasn’t he man enough, maybe?

“My princes?”

“I know you want me, so don’t keep saying our hands are tied.”

Four heads turned to look at you, and all the noise stopped. Ubbe got up the first, straightening his clothes and looking away ashamed. He was supposed to be the older, the wiser, and he was ready to rip his brothers’ hair. Sigurd and Ivar got up next, the first one trying to shove Ivar off his crutches as he received a hard slap on the back of his head from Ubbe.

You looked at them with a soft smile, used to their fights and screams. After years of being their thrall, you grew accustomed to their behaviours. Your eyes locked with Hvitserk, half of you expecting to find him smiling at you or winking. But the prince had his head low, and did not move from his seat. You tried to mask the deception in you face and returned to the obedient slave.

“Queen Aslaug has requested your presence in the great hall” you said, your voice sweet and soft, nothing compared to the princes’ one. “Food will be ready soon.”

“We’ll be there in a while” Ubbe answered, glaring at Ivar who had just given Sigurd a poke on his side. “Thanks, Y/N.”

Ubbe looked towards his brother as you bowed, ready to head out without receiving not even a smile from Hvitserk. Since you had known them, he had always asked you before a dinner or a fest to join him, and surprisingly it felt strange. Seeing that his brother’s frown was not going to disappear, Ubbe decided to ask you himself.

“Are you staying for dinner?” he asked. “Ivar and Sigurd only behave if you’re near, it seems.”

“You claim it’s not in the cards, fate is pulling you miles away and out of reach from me.”

“I’m sorry my prince, but I’ve got duties to attend.”

It wasn’t true, actually. Aslaug had given you the night free, since the big sacrifice was taking place and she was in charge of it. You had planned originally to spend it by the boats, with no other intention than talking with Hvitserk. Even if it was true that you always said no to the prince, you liked him back. The only problem was that, for you, he was a prince, destinated to marry a beautiful queen in a big castle, and you were just a slave. The risks of falling in love with the prince and then having your heart broken were too high, so you preferred to stay in the shadows and enjoy casual conversation with him.

“But you’re here in my heart, so who can stop me if I decide that you’re my destiny?”

“That proves my point” Ivar smirked. “None of you are an option, see? If Y/N had to choose, she would choose me. I’m taking her”

“W-What?” you frowned, not understanding what they were saying.

“That doesn’t prove anything, Ivar” Sigurd said, mocking him. “She doesn’t want Ubbe because he has enough wives. I can’t imagine wanting to be one of them neither.”

“Hey, shut up!” Ubbe pointed a finger towards Sigurd. “My wives are very happy to be with me. Your wives… well, they can talk when you have at least one.”

Ivar started laughing loudly and Sigurd looked like he would rather drown in the floor. You looked to the brothers and then to Hvitserk, who still looked deep in thought. Not knowing if you were allowed to leave or not, you stood there for another moment.

“Shut up” Sigurd glared at Ivar. “Y/N won’t go to the sacrifice with you, you’ve got nothing to offer. Besides, I know she likes my songs. So she would rather go with me.”

“If I’m allowed to talk, my prince, I would like to-“

“Y/N would only want your songs to sleep” Ivar interrupted you. “Or to die, you can bore anyone to death, brother.”

“Oh, yeah? Then you can kill her with an orgasm?” Sigurd blinked, and Ubbe stiffed a laugh. “Or you can’t?”

“My lords, please-“

“If you both think that the only way to pleasure a woman is with your dick then I’m sorry for the ones that have laid with you.”

“Ivar, I’m sure any of us can fuck Y/N better than you” Ubbe scoffed, then completely into the argument. “We all have heard the stories of Margarethe.”

The three brothers kept bickering and shouting at each other while you stood there, trying to ask for permission to leave. You looked towards Hvitserk, trying to find a solution to that situation. He locked eyes with you for a second, and you saw the deepest sadness you had ever seen in the cheerful prince. Using all your will power, you stood on your place and didn’t run to him.

A huge smack made you look back towards the other princes, who were throwing stuff at each other. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea, yet you walked forwards and tried to stop Ivar throwing a stool to Ivar. You bent by his side an gripped one side of the stool. Giving him a sweet smile, he scoffed and let go of the other part. Then, you heard your name and turned towards the other two brothers.

Time seemed to slow down as Ubbe shouted your name, and you didn’t realise until that moment that Sigurd had in his hands another stool. You watched as he threw it over where you were taking the stool out of Ivar’s hands, and closed your eyes waiting for the hit. One second passed. Two. Three. And still, it never reached you.

“Y/N? You okay?”

Opening one eye, you saw Hvitserk crouching in front of you, a worried look on his childish face. You opened and closed your mouth, trying to understand what had just happened.

“What if we rewrite the stars? Say that you were made to be mine.”

Before you had time to say something to him, Sigurd rushed apologies and Ubbe and Ivar screams towards him made you look towards them.

“I think I’m going to go” you said with a small voice. “I-I’m probably needed in the kitchen. Queen Aslaug is still waiting for you, my princes.”

They didn’t get to say anything else as you left in a rush.

“You think it’s easy, you think I don’t want to run to you. But there are mountains, and there are doors that we can’t walk through.”

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

Hvitserk didn’t ask Margarethe to the sacrifice, although she followed him everywhere he went. He tried to lose her between the people, talking with strangers so that she could entertain herself with them and running around for a while.

Sigurd turned out to be his salvation. His brother was drunk enough to not care about who he was talking to, and Margarethe decided that it had been a while since she slept with that brother. So, as the sacrifice went on, she kept herself busy with him. That let Hvitserk free, but that night, he didn’t feel the need to find another woman. His initial goal had been to find someone, take her to his bed and spend the night awake with her.

For him, in that moment some of them were too tall or too short. Their hair wasn’t braided as he liked it, or he thought that their dresses were ugly. Others talked too much or not enough, and all of them weren’t you. Hvitserk didn’t want to say it out loud, yet since that morning, he had been beating up himself over the fact that you would choose his brothers before him.

He might have not been on the argument, but he listened closely and he didn’t hear you saying no to any of them. And before the sacrifice, he had gone looking for you in the kitchens and had found them empty. Asking his mother, he discovered that you had your night free; so either you were hiding away somewhere or you were with other man. The last one made him want to curl in a ball and die. Because he kind of understood that you wanted to be with someone who was able to stick to his own woman, not with his brother’s one.

That thoughts led him towards the boats, where the night was cold and small waves were hitting the sand. He kept walking, lost in his mind, until he saw someone sitting on the shore. He blinked twice, making his vision clear and making out your silhouette. He hadn’t walked-ran faster in his life.

“Just you and me, within this walls”

Before he could reach you, you turned around to look at him. From the noise he was making, it would take a deaf man to miss his steps. Still loyal to your status and manners, you rose up and bowed beside him.

“But when we go outside, you’re going to wake up and see that is was it was hopeless after all.”

“Prince Hvitserk. I though you would be in the sacrifice.”

“Why do you keep doing that?” he asked. “We’ve known each other for years, Y/N, I don’t want you to bow in front of me.”

“No one can rewrite the stars, how can you say you’ll be mine?”

“Because you’re my prince” you smiled softly, though it didn’t reach your eyes.

“Everything keeps us apart, and I’m not the one you were meant to find.”

You sat again on the sand, facing the water and enjoying the soft breeze. With Hvitserk there too, it didn’t seem so dark. He sat too, his shoulder brushing yours and his warmth making shivers ran down your spine. For a few seconds, it was silent between you two. A comfortable silence.

“Why aren’t you in the sacrifice?”

“If I listen one more time to Ivar shouting at Sigurd, I think I’ll offer myself for the next sacrifice” he laughed. “They’re like little children.”

“Well, you all are” you said, and immediately regretted it. “I mean-I’m sorry, my prince, I-I didn’t-“

“Why am I a child?” he asked, waiting for your answer. “Come on, Y/N, you have done nothing wrong. You can talk freely around me.”

“It’s not up to you, it’s not up to me, when everyone tell us what we can be.”

You looked down at your hands; of course you could. With Hvitserk, you had never felt the pressure of being a slave, and he had always made you feel like a normal person. His brothers had been different, most of the times treating you like a piece of meat. He was different; sure, he followed you around and tried to get into your pants a lot of times. But you saw through his charming attitude, you knew the boy who grew excited with new food, whose eyes shined with pride when talking about his brothers, and who was loyal and truthful like no one.

As children, you used to be the closest friends. Playing and messing around all day, until your mother would call you home and scold you for staining your dress. There were good times, happy ones; then, she died and you became a thrall. Hvitserk treated you like always, with love and didn’t change his way of seeing you. You did.

“It feels impossible, is it impossible?”

You understood what he didn’t. That he was a prince, royalty. That he deserved greatness, and his duty was to follow his father’s path. You were not there, you were his thrall. The person who served him breakfast, made his bed and fixed his furs. Time passed and the beautiful friendship turned into a slave-master relationship for your part.

“I don’t know” you shrugged, washing those memories away. “I didn’t mean to say that, I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry” he turned your head towards him with his fingers, making you look to his eyes. “Tell me. Talk to me like we used to.”

“How do we rewrite the stars? Say you were made to be mine?”

“You-I know Ivar and Sigurd and arguing all the time like children. But, I mean, you have the sweet tooth of a child” you smiled, not tearing your eyes away. “And I’ve not meet anyone who has so much energy.”

“You used to fall behind everytime we played together” he smiled too. “And then I had to wait for you, because your mother would chase me with the broom if you weren’t on time.”

The memory of your mother made you happy for the first time. Every time you thought about her, you reminded yourself to be a good servant, to achieve great things. In that moment, you could only think of happy thoughts.

“Remember that time I fell over and you carried me to my house?” you chuckled. “Mom was so angry with you.”

“It was your fault!” he let out a big laugh. “You were the one who wanted to fight with Ubbe and me.”

“And you trained harder than ever just to prove that you were better than me.”

“It’s up to you, and it’s up to me. No one can say what we get to be.”

Night passed by as you two talked about everything and anything, from the memories of your childhood to catching up with both of your lives. It seemed like the time hadn’t passed by, that you were still two children messing with each other and happy without any worries. Hvitserk opened up about Margarethe, about how he knew he deserved better yet he couldn’t let the only thing stable in his life go; you opened up about the pressure of being a thrall, and the fact that it was your fault that you lost your friendship.

Some laughs were shared and a few tears were wiped out of each other’s cheek, and little by little you discovered that you hadn’t changed a thing. When the sun peeked through the mountains, you found yourself covered by Hvitserk’s furs and laid in the sand on top of him. In another moment, the rational part of your mind would have told you to leave; yet you just moved closer to his side.

“And why don’t we rewrite the stars?”

Until that moment, everything had been fine. Yet you noticed how, when you pressed your head against his shoulder, he let out a painful hiss and tried to get away.

“What happens?” you frowned, looking up at his face. “Does your shoulder hurt?”

“Kind of. Maybe I’ve slept in a weird position” he said, but you knew he was lying. Because you didn’t flinch away from just a “bad sleeping position.”

Your hard eyes and pushing hands made a sigh leave his lips, and he turned to his side to let you uncover his shoulder. A gasp left your lips when you saw the big bruise on it, covering most part of his left side and neck. You ran your hands over it softly, hearing how his breath got caught on his throat.

“What is this? How have you gotten it? By the gods, why has no one treated this?”

“It’s nothing, Y/N, really. Probably I’ve got it in training with Ubbe.”

“Hvitserk, you haven’t trained for more than a week” you sighed, and was met with silence. “Hvitserk”

His name on your lips felt strange yet left a feeling of comfort and happiness on his belly, unknown for so many years.

“It was going to hit you” he half whispered. “If it has done that to me, guess what it would have done to you.”

“What was going to-oh” you shut up, remembering the stool. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“I wanted to” Hvitserk said, and talked again before you could open your mouth again. “Don’t tell me you didn’t want me to, please.”

“But you shouldn’t have done that for me” you sighed. “You’re a prince, you can’t get hurt. I’m just a slave.”

“No, you’re not just a slave. You’re my friend, my confident and my best girl, and you know it. And I’m not a prince, I’m just Hvitserk. The guy you used to play in the square and who still loves you.”

Your breath caught on your throat at his confession, and you looked at him with wide eyes. It wasn’t surprised what filled you, but happiness. More happiness than what you had felt in your last years.

“Please, say something” Hvitserk begged, and sat beside you. He took one of your hands between his, and caressed his fingers over it; just like he did when he waited for you to catch up and gripped your hand to keep you going. “You don’t have to be a slave anymore, you can be with me. And we can be happy.”

“And what, be like Margarethe?” you looked at him with hurt eyes. “I don’t want to be just the slave you free. You deserve a princess, Hvitserk, someone with lands and treasures. Not me”

“You always tell me no, Y/N. I’ve learnt the lesson, I know you’re going to be more than that. Whatever you want to be, wherever you want to go, I promise to be there, holding your hand” he took a deep breath. “I-I’m going to ask just one more time, I promise. If you say no, I’ll go and you won’t see me again. Do you want me as much as I want you.”

“But I can’t have you, we’re bound to break and my hands are tied”

“No.”

It was the best for you both, you thought. It was the best for him, because he deserved more and you were just a slave. Margarethe could offer him a lot of things, any other woman could offer him a lot. You looked down at your hands, watching as a single tear reached the sand and formed a perfect circle on it. Quickly, you reached your cheek to stop it, yet discovered it was dry. Hvitserk was crying.

It was the right choice, he deserved to be happy. It was your duty to look out for him as his thrall. Yet you couldn’t help to be selfish for one in your life.

“No, I don’t want you as much as you want me” you placed your hand on his cheek, covering it whole and running your thumb through its side. Hvitserk leaned against you, enjoying what seemed the last interaction you would have. “Because I think I want you more.”

“Why don’t we rewrite the stars? Changing the world to be us.”

Your words took a second to sink into his mind, and when they did, they became inked forever. Hvitserk’s eyes widened as he looked at you, searching for any type of joke in your eyes; he found nothing, only the bright eyes that used to look up at him when he was younger. Two seconds later, he tried pecking your lips. Three seconds passed and you put one of your hands behind his neck. By the time ten seconds passed, you both were laying in the sand kissing each other and happiest than ever.

“Maybe the world could be ours, tonight.”

Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!

[mariemarvelbear]

Sequoia

Avengers x Reader

Warning: Angst.So much Angst.Slow burn angst.Abuse.Mention of rape.Brainwashed.ANGST.Blood.Torture.Swearing.Kidnapping.

Part 22

“Oh, my love, the stories are pale in comparison to your beauty when looked upon with my own eyes,” Korvac mumbled, blushing as he caressed your delicate skin. “I’m sorry for hurting you.” He frowned, his gaze dropping at the sight of your wrist tightly tied around the edge of the headboard. “It’s your fault anyway, If you haven’t kicked me, then you’d be free as a bird.”

 “I wasn’t ever free ever since you took me away from my home, you animal!” You spat back, hatred and rage lingering over your words as you looked at the monster in front of you. Your head throbbed, as you felt the thick liquid trickle from your forehead to your mouth- the iron taste of blood not even foreign anymore. It’s been two days since you saw the Doctor, but even with the medicine and supplements he gave you-the agonizing pain you felt in your head never ceased away. So, without even consulting the doctor- you stopped taking the medications, thinking that they weren’t even doing anything and maybe the doctor just gave the wrong dosage, but you were wrong- It wasn’t not working because of the miscalculation with the dosages-but because it wasn’t even meant for the pain. It was meant for you to not remember anything, but as you stopped drinking it instantly- your body drastically coped up; and now- You remember. Everything.

 “That won’t do anything, sweetheart,” Korvac smirked, watching you try to free yourself but continuously failing. “Uh-uh.” He chuckled, earning a glare from you as you quickly stopped what you were doing “Don’t do that. You might hurt our little one. “ He laughed, his hand caressing your growing bump. It was in an instant that you were back into your first state when you got there, confused and heartbroken. Your gaze dropped-your eyes instantly tearing up as you felt the kicks, tiny footprints visible for a second or so –You sobbed, your train of thoughts continuously making you feel horrible and dirty.

 “Steve, Tony…...Where are you? Save me.Please”

 “She’s a hero you know” Steve whispered, his blue orbs glistening with tears; and if you look close enough-you can see a glimmer of hope. “You should have seen her work. “

 “I did.” Fury grunted.

 “No. You didn’t, You saw her fought battles in the gym. You saw her train, But you haven’t seen her work. In the field, with us- saving people.” Natasha butted in.

“Every day she worked for a better tomorrow, a more noble outcome. Because for ‘Iana? A rock in her path was simply an opportunity to think harder, to develop new solutions. Every fork in the road she walked both paths until she was sure which was the right one and then she ran as fast as she could. “ Pete stepped up, tears flowing.

 “She-She held on tight to her dreams and woke up every day like her success was already there, she just had to keep on walking to it. "Mind over matter," that's what she would say, "whatever your goal is, keep striving, we're all going to make it together." Tony chuckled, for the first time in five years-Tony finally smliled.

 “Are you teaming up, against me?” The director smirked.

 “Isn’t that what you want? Director?”

 “It is, Captain.”

 Steve stopped for a moment, contemplating what a mission like this could mean, and how it could end.  He felt the lingering fear, the anxiousness, it was back and it scared him. What could possibly happen? It’s been five years since they last saw you, since they last knew you were alive. So will he risk it? Again? Can he let his team go through that dreadful times? Can he? Was Wanda telling the truth? Did she really have visions? Or was she just dreaming? As he felt a light hand atop of his shoulder, He stared at the hazel eyes, Tony’s hoping ones-feeling that he was seeing the real man for the first time, Tony’s emotions clearly visible in his expression. Steve knew that Tony was asking for help, but was too proud to actually say the words.  Behind the man in iron, Natasha looked back; her hands holding onto Wanda’s. It was his team, They were back. Stronger and determined than ever.

 “Three minutes. Get what you need.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    

Eviana Hope Kalani had wept until the fount of tears seemed dry. She had beaten with her hands against the heavy door of her prison room until her knuckles streamed blood. Shouting and screaming as sobs escaped her swollen lips, sinking exhausted to the floor. The grief came in waves and threatened to consume her entirely. It was her master, for now. She was at the mercy of its whims and at times it bit at her with such ferocity she feared it would leave her an empty shell.

 “Let me out! Let me out please!” She screamed, It was the loudest; most piercing scream someone can ever hear. It sounded like a scream of wild panic. A scream of hysteria and disbelief, bordering on terror. “Please, Michael.” Eviana sobbed, shutting her eyes as she felt

 After a long period of time, Eviana’s eyes squinted as light passed through the steel door that prevented her from going anywhere. “Your son is looking for you, My Queen,” Korvac muttered, his voice thick with his accent- an accent that wasn’t new to her ears, but it made her hair stand straight up on the back of her neck; giving her chills of terror.

 “My son?”

 And as if on cue, the door opened widely-revealing a toddler who's eyes were red shot as tears continued flowing from his dark emerald eyes, it was like a forest at sunset; the green of the leaves clinging to the very last bits of light they could. A pang of pain started building up in her core, as if the pain that the child was feeling-was being transferred to her. It was as if she can feel it, the pain and confusion that the child continuously feels. As Sequoia waddled his way to his mother, his lips trembled-afraid that she was hurt and that there’s nothing he can do. “M-Mama?” He whispered, his innocent hands caressing her beaten cheeks. “M-Mama hurt?” There was nothing she can do but cry, in his eyes, she can see her own reflection. Her eyes were lighter, like a meadow on a summer day- it was a lighter shade of emerald, compared to his dark innocent emerald ones. His eyes were the kind of green that the grass gets jealous of. The kind of green that distracts you from everything around. His eyes were the kind of green that gets noticed even when you can't see them because his eyes showed straight through to his personality. That happy, light, noticeable yet innocent green is the variety he had.

 “No baby. Mama’s just tired.” Eviana lied, her gaze now glaring at the monster in front of her and her child. “Did you eat already ‘Se?” She smiled, trying to change the topic-knowing the little guy, he’d tell her stories about the different feast Michael always served them with. “’Quoia ate ‘m’shed poto.”

 “Oh.Was it nommy?”

 “Nommy nommy mama!” Sequioa cheered, his toothless grin showing-warming Eviana’s heart. It was as if all hurt and pain was lifted, and it was exchanged with more strength and love for the child in front of her, and the one growing inside her.

 “I’d never hurt him Carina.”

 “Stop calling me that!” Eviana roared. Her head, throbbing once again. “I told you. My name is Eviana!”

 “The doctor is here.You’ll be back soon, My love.” Korvac chuckled, aggressively picking up the crying toddler as Victor came inside. “Take care of her Victor.”

 “I will, My King.” As Victor came closer to her, A couple of Kronans followed-placing her back at a bed- swiftly inserting an Intravenous drip onto her swollen hand. It was in a matter of minutes that a primal scream escaped her lips once again.

 “Help me!”

   When a migraine struck, Eviana was its prisoner, quite helpless in her cage of pain. She was blinded with flashing colorful spots and craved darkness, quite and stillness. Often the nausea would overwhelm her, and she would vomit. Pain would throb so violently around her skull that she wondered why it didn't just crack open. It was always the same, a crushing pain just on one side of her head that came and went in a pattern, radiating to all the lobes of her brain. It made her want to pace about, she couldn't sit, couldn't lie down or relax. Her eyes would water because of the pain and her nose would bleed.

  “Is it done?” Korvac grunted, his eyes glued at the woman he loved-peacefully sleeping on their shared bed.

 “It’s done.” Victor proudly said. “The process went beautifully. She’s all yours Michael.” It was on cue as Eviana’s eyes fluttered open, her eyes quickly scanning the rest of the place. She was in her night gowns, her arm in a cast as a bandage was plastered on her right side of the head.

 “’Kael?” Eviana called out, her voice raspy, confused-and longing for something. “What happened?”

 “Oh, My Queen.” Korvac smirked, hiding his excitement as he wonderfully plastered a worried face. “It was a horrible accident. Sequioa, Our little trouble maker. He ran after the butterfly, not noticing the huge hole in the garden- And you, his hero- You saved him, hurting yourself….”

 “Is he hurt?’Kael!” Instantly, Eviana sat up-hurting herself in the process.“Don’t worry my love.He’s not!Because of you.” Korvac smiled, wickedly-as if he had won again.

[peaceisadirtyword]

Invisible (Ivar/Reader)

A/N: Hello! I’m sorry for being so absent these days! Seriously uni is killing me, and to make things better, I’m sick😂 so I can barely study or write as I have a constant headache. But I wrote this a few days ago, hoping to post it for my birthday or for Vikings premiere, but I forgot so I'm posting it now... It’s just some idea I had a while ago when I was feeling a bit angsty and it’s probably very bad, but I’m posting it anyway... I want to do two or three more parts and include one of the requests I have for Ivar in my inbox! I hope you like it♥️

Btw I won’t post anything about the new episode until the weekend as I don’t want to spoil anything to anyone, but if someone has already watched it and want to talk about it send me a message! I'm dying to talk about it with someone! 

Again, sorry for being so inactive! I have some fics to read and I hope I can answer to your comments and your messages tonight!💕

Warnings: Angst (an attempt), Ivar is an asshole, there are a lot of insecurities for both of them and please don’t let anyone treat you like that in your life. Don’t be like me and the reader.

Words: 3510 I don’t know what’s happening to me these days

gif isn’t mine, it belongs to @bloody-imagines 

Kattegat had grown considerably during the years, the trade and the growth in population had enlarged the city. Though when you arrived it was already big, it had grown even more. 

There was a lot of people living in Kattegat, and you knew almost all of them.

You had been brought to Kattegat as a slave, after being sold by your father, who had gotten married after your mother's death and whose new wife seemed to have a problem with you living on her house. 

Queen Aslaug had bought you, after the slave trader told her you'd been cooking and cleaning for your father for years. She had put you in the kitchen to cook, and then as her personal slave, washing her clothes, making her bed and cleaning her room. She always treated you well, seeing you as the daughter she'd always wanted to have. 

Aslaug ended up freeing you, even offering you a small house near the Hall. Somehow, the queen and her family had grown fond of you, and even Floki, who had be the one who taught you the language and the viking culture, seemed to like you. 

Your relationship with the sons of the queen had been... Weird. At first, you were scared of them; you were just a little christian girl who had never set her eyes on a man, let alone a viking man. They were big, fierce and you had seen them training on the woods. Their hungry eyes had followed you the first days, while you served dinner or cleaned the hall. 

Ubbe had been the kindest to you, smiling softly at you and calling your name with a gentle voice, though his big eyes always roamed over your body whenever you approached him to fill his cup. Hvitserk hadn't been that subtle, biting his lip and reaching to caress your waist and your thighs while you served dinner, his eyes glued to your chest. 

Sigurd hadn't paid much attention to you until you had sat next to him on a feast, listening to him playing the oud. He had tried to kiss you after a while, kiss that you had awkwardly avoided, blushing and muttering something about Aslaug calling you. 

And Ivar... He seemed to hate you. The first time you saw the terrifying cripple of whom everyone had talked about since you arrived you thought he was the most handsome man you'd ever seen.

His piercing blue eyes had looked at you intensely, making you blush, and his brows had furrowed together while he waited for you to fill his empty cup. It had resulted in you spilling the mead all over him, which had enraged him. Fortunately, Ubbe had intervened before he could hurt you, but since then Ivar had been cruel with you.

When Aslaug freed you, he had argued, saying they needed the thralls and even offered to buy you himself to be his personal slave. The thought hadn't exactly bothered you, as you really liked him, but his cruel smile had hinted you that you would have had a bad time. 

He didn't like the fact that you were free and he wasn't able to torment you constantly. 

Anyway, and even if you considered yourself pathetic and stupid for it, you kept pining after him. It didn't matter how many times he tortured you, teased you or insulted you, your heart kept beating faster whenever you saw him, and something between your legs turned on when you saw him training with his brothers, working on the forge or even crawling around. 

"She's looking at you again" Ubbe smiled teasingly at his little brother, who scowled and kept sharpening his knife, sitting next to the beach and with his back leant onto a rock.

"She's annoying"

"She's hot" Hvitserk smirked softly while looking at you from afar. You were helping Helga to clean the fishes the boys and Floki had captured that morning, but your eyes wandered over Ivar sometimes, and Ubbe had caught you twice now. 

"She's really nice" Sigurd glared at his brothers "Ivar does not deserve her attention, Y/N deserves a man, a real viking who can satisfy her and make her happy, who does not torture her and who actually can walk" 

"Sigurd" Ubbe glared at him, and even Hvitserk pressed his lips together. 

Ivar clenched his jaw, but instead of stabbing his brother, he smirked.

"You're not talking about yourself, are you brother? Because I don't think you can satisfy her or make her happy considering the fact that she rejected you once" he chuckled "You can try and marry her, though, you'd do me a favor" 

"Enough, both of you" Ubbe scolded, sighing "I think Y/N is the only one who truly knows how her man should be"

"It's a waste that she only looks at Ivar" Hvitserk groaned "I would happily satisfy her"

"Use one of those tricks that you use with the thralls" Ivar scoffed "She was one of them, so it should work"

"Ivar" Ubbe shook his head "Stop being mean to her"

"I'm not" he replied "I just find her annoying and clingy, I'd love it if she found some other man and let me alone"

"She's the only woman who has ever shown interest in you" Sigurd chuckled "And if you keep being a prick to her, she will be the last"

"I don't want her, she's a christian that thinks that she can now worship our gods and behave like one of us. She's not a viking, she's weak and cannot fight, and she's too small"

"What's wrong with her being small, Ivar?" Hvitserk shrugged "Small or big, she's a woman, her size does not matter when she's under you, with her legs around your waist and moaning as you pound into her" he smirked and Ubbe chuckled, agreeing with his brother "And I could teach her how to fight, you know" he winked at an annoyed Ivar, who blushed when his brother mentioned the sex part. 

"I want a viking woman" he repeated "Not her"

"She's coming" Ubbe cleared his throat "Not a word, Ivar"

Helga and you approached the brothers, with a stewpot and some bowls.

"The food is ready" Helga smiled while you left the stewpot on the floor and started filling the bowls before passing them to the boys. Ubbe and Sigurd smiled and thanked you, Hvitserk practically had no time for doing that as he shoved the soup down his throat immediately, and Ivar took the bowl from your hands without even looking at you. While Helga went to give Floki, who was working on a boat, his bowl, you sat down next to Hvitserk who was devouring the soup, smiling at him.

"Do you like it?" You raised a brow and Hvitserk moaned.

"It's amazing" he nodded "Did you make it?"

You nodded, proud of yourself. You had spent almost the entire morning making the soup, knowing that the boys had been training and fishing and would be hungry. 

"It's really good, Y/N" Ubbe smiled at you "Thanks"

"You're welcome, I'm glad you..." A sudden noise startled you. Ivar had let the bowl fall on the floor, spilling his content with a disgusted scowl present on his face "Like it" you finished your sentence in a whisper, knowing that he was about to say something hurtful.

"It's the most disgusting thing I've ever eaten" he spat, his eyes sending daggers to you "If you don't know how to cook, then don't do it" you looked away, ashamed and angry at the same time. 

"Ivar" Ubbe looked at his brother "What...?"

"If you don't want it, give it to Hvitserk" Sigurd glared at him "But Y/N has spent a good time making this for us, and you should appreciate it"

"I didn't ask her to do it" he shrugged "And if she doesn't know how to make a simple soup, it's not my fault... Now I understand why mother freed her" 

You looked at you feet, trying not to cry. It had been an amazing morning. You'd found some flowers at your door that morning, which had made you the happiest person in Kattegat. You had been happy thinking that they could be Ivar's, but his behavior in that moment made it very clear; it definitely hadn't been him.

"Shut up" Ubbe was now angry, one thing was that his brother didn't like you, he could understand that, but humiliating and insulting you was another "You're acting as a spoiled little brat"

"That's what he is" Sigurd shrugged "It's what you become when you've always been mommy's boy"

Ivar gripped his knife, and you looked at him with wide eyes, afraid he'd hurt one of his brothers.

"It's okay" you quickly got up, clearing your throat "Helga is cooking the fish now... Maybe you'll like it more, Ivar" you tried to smile at him, but his annoyed glare mad your smile fade away "I'll tell her to add a few more pieces, so you won't be hungry" you muttered while picking up the empty bowl and walking over Floki's house, trying to swallow your tears. 

Helga turned around when she heard you entering the house, but her gentle face furrowed with worry when she saw you trying to dry your tears with your hands. 

"Y/N, my dear, what happened?" She hugged you tightly. After her daughter's death, she'd been desperate to have another child, and she immediately felt that motherly feeling towards you, and loved you deeply. 

"It's just..." You shook your head, feeling stupid "Nothing, it's just that I cannot do anything well" 

"What?" She frowned "Of course you can! You do a lot of things well, love, for example, this soup, I think Hvitserk will ask for your hand in marriage after he's done with it" she smiled. 

"Ivar didn't like it" you muttered, shrugging. 

"That's weird, I always cooked this soup for him and he loved it" she shook her head.

"I must have done something wrong"

"No, you didn't" she smiled at you, caressing your cheek "He's just in a mood, probably... Do you want to take the rest of the food to them or you prefer staying here?"

You bit your lip.

"I think I'm going to go home" you muttered "I haven't slept very well..."

"But you haven't eaten anything!" Helga replied, the concern making her frown again.

"I'll eat something at home" you smiled, trying to reassure her "See you tomorrow, Helga... Oh, give my plate to Ivar" you bit your lip "He must be hungry" you kissed her cheek before going out of the house, using the back door to avoid the brothers. 

Ivar could see Helga was angry at him. He supposed it was because of the way he had talked to you. Gods, it was annoying how much she seemed to care about you. You weren't a viking, just a simple thrall that had been abandoned by her own family. 

"Where is Y/N?" Ubbe asked when Helga brought them the cooked fish they had gotten that morning.

"She went home, she wasn't feeling well" Helga glared at Ivar, who rolled his eyes but frowned a bit, feeling a bit guilty "Anyway, she asked me to give you her food, Ivar, as you didn't eat the soup" she gave him a plate with more food. That made him blush and take the plate. He heard Sigurd scoffing and saw Ubbe smirking. Hvitserk, on the other hand, was looking at his plate with a pout.

"You deserve it, brother" it was annoying how Ubbe seemed to know everything "Now think about how you're going to apologize to her while you eat her food"

You stood on your small house, completely naked and looking down at your body with a frown. There had to be something wrong with you. 

Maybe it was because you didn't have those long and strong legs that all the viking women had, or maybe it was your belly, which wasn't as flat as you'd like it to be, maybe you had small breasts. Or maybe it was your incapacity to fight, or to be bold and fight as the viking women. 

The thing was; no man had ever shown interest on you. Well, Hvitserk had tried to get you into his bed several times, and Ubbe had too. Sigurd tried to kiss you once, but given the reputation of the three brothers with women, every single female present in Kattegat had been in that position at least once on their lives. 

But no one had ever actually liked you, you guessed, as no one had ever talked to you in that way. 

It was true that you were too in love with Ivar to even look at other men, but as he seemed to hate you, you probably should forget about him...

Then you realized. You were crying over someone who was cruel to you. Well, to you and to half of the population in Kattegat, but especially to you. You only had showed him kindness and love, forgiving his outbursts and always tried to please him, make him feel comfortable. And he only screamed at you and made you feel bad. 

You breathed deeply, frowning. You had to put an end to it. You were only hurting yourself while pining after him, and he clearly wasn't interested. 

No, Ivar wasn't the right man for you. 

Of all the things you loved about Kattegat, the feasts were your favorite. You loved the music, the large amounts of food, the dancing, the people laughing and having fun... You always felt more relaxed and enjoyed those evenings.

That day was no different. You dressed up in a beautiful red dress and left your hair loose, only braiding some locks. You felt better that day. You had received another flower at your door that morning, but that wasn't the main reason of your happiness, as you had began to think it was some type of joke. You were happy because you had spent days ignoring Ivar. You had avoided him a little bit, but you were proud to say that you didn't even look at his direction whenever he was present.

It was a start, and you were already feeling more confident and relaxed. 

The feast didn't disappoint. You ate sitting next to Hvitserk and Ubbe, who spent the whole dinner laughing about how Sigurd had tripped over himself while training and had fallen right onto his butt. The story wasn't that funny, but the way they cried in laughter while telling you made you laugh with them, happy to be able to share their joy. 

You didn't pay any attention to Ivar, who was eyeing you, annoyed. He had been waiting for your to look at him and smile lovingly, offering him some more food or mead. 

He missed it.

Yeah, at first he found you annoying, how you would be all day looking at him and longing for his attention. He couldn't understand why a beautiful girl like you would be interested in him, the cripple. 

He had looked at you, of course he had. Every single man in Kattegat who wasn't blind had. 

But you were too much for him, and that angered him. If he had been a true viking, like his brothers, he would have claimed you. But he was a cripple, and you deserved something better. 

For him, that was reason enough to be rude to you. Maybe then you'd forget about him. 

But a part of him didn't want you to forget. 

Ivar frowned, watching as you almost choked on your food after Hvitserk said some stupid thing that made you laugh. Surely you had finally realized that his brothers were a better option than him.

Next to him, Aslaug talked about how he should stop training so hard, saying that he'd end up hurt. 

"Ivar" she sighed when she realized he wasn't listening "What's wrong? You look bothered"

Her son looked at her, faking a smile and putting his hand over hers. 

"I'm okay, mother"

Aslaug looked at you. She had noticed the change on your behavior with Ivar. She actually understood, knowing how it felt to be ignored, humiliated and hurt by a man. 

"If you were nicer to her, she wouldn't ignore you" Aslaug took her cup, sipping on her drink while Ivar scoffed.

"I don't care"

Aslaug raised an eyebrow at his words, but didn't say anything, not wanting to upset him. 

Everyone was already drunk. Even you were a bit tipsy, giggling at everything and blushed. You had moved to be closer to Sigurd, who was playing some music while a group of people gathered around him sang and danced happily. You were standing up, your back leaned onto the wall and a cup on your hands. A smile on your lips. 

Ivar looked at you intensely. You looked pretty smiling, more than you did when you frowned or winced at his cruel words. 

Again, you deserved someone who would make you smile like that.

That angered him, again, and he cursed himself for not being good enough. He never was good enough. Maybe that's why he was so angry at you, because you reminded that to him every time you smiled softly at him and ignored his remarks. 

He throw his cup to the floor, clenching his jaw with rage. A part of him would like to go and apologize to you, to tell you that he didn't mean any of those things he always said to you. But he was too proud, and if you laughed at him he wasn't sure of how he would react. 

He stayed there, sat on his chair, his lips pressed together and his hands gripping the edge of the table so hard that he would have probably broken it if Ubbe hasn't made him remove his hand. 

His brother followed his gaze, smiling softly when he realized he was looking at you. Of course he was looking at you.

You, oblivious to what Ivar was thinking, kept listening to Sigurd, smiling softly. Until someone stopped in front of you. He was a handsome man, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and he was smiling at you.

"Hello" he tilted his head. Gods he was very handsome "You must be Y/N, right?"

You blushed, not knowing how to react. It was the first time a man approached you in that way.

"Yeah, I... Am Y/N" you cleared your throat, smiling nervously.

"It's a pleasure to meet you" he had a deep voice, and his tone was soft and gentle "My name is Einar, I just arrived to Kattegat a few weeks ago and I couldn't help but to notice you"  

"Me?" You almost choked.

"Yeah, I have to say, you're one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen"

You blushed, widening your eyes and making him chuckle. 

"Well... Thank you, I suppose" you looked away, too ashamed to look at him in the eye.

"Don't thank me, I'm just saying the truth" he shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. 

You smiled softly, biting your lip. You felt a warmth inside you and you actually felt good. It was just like his comment had made you feel more confident with yourself. 

"I see you like music" he looked at Sigurd, who kept playing the oud with a bright smile on his lips.

"Sigurd is really good" you nodded.

"I heard you're close to his family"

"I am" you smiled at him "I came here as a slave for queen Aslaug, but she freed me and gave me a place to live, her sons have been very nice to me... Well, almost all of them"

"I can't imagine how someone could not be nice to you" his blue eyes which reminded you of Ivar's but less intense and softer, were fixed in yours "He must be a fool"

"Ivar is... Complicated" you sighed "But don't let him hear that"

"Would you like to get out of here? We can go somewhere more... Quiet" 

You bit your lip, and your eyes scanned the large hall searching for Ivar's. When you finally spotted him, you were surprised to find that he was looking at you, well... Glaring at you. You were tempted to look away and lower your head, as you always did when he glared at you like that. But this time you didn't. You refused to give him power to hurt you again. 

He didn't want you, he had made it very clear, you'd dare to say that he despised you, so what were you going to do? Stay there and keep feeling bad about yourself because of his indifference or go away with a man that clearly had some interest in you and who was being much nicer? 

You looked at Einar again, managing to compose a charming smile before nodding and taking his hand.

"Let's go" 

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