#Future Sight (queue)

[dark-type-appreciator]

happy holidays to anyone who celebratse something!!! I havent been able to talk much bc my family's been getting ready for Christmas- but i wanted to draw something at least!! ^w^

[deathfavor]

@yeonban said: Shalnark stares at the dreadful sight in front of him with something akin to a wince, and he needs not waste time wondering what Phinks' reaction will be when he returns to the base only to be met with his newfound possessions in the direst of states. They're bound to get chased around, makeshift projectiles of all kinds (rocks, chairs and the sort) pouring down on them like meteors as payback for their negligence with his belongings. It wasn't them that did the items in, but it was them who were left behind while the culprits ran away into the city to avoid the consequences of their own actions.

Perhaps next time they ought to be more careful, and stop their friends from being too rowdy inside the base. Or perhaps they ought to simply run faster than they did and become the ones shifting the blame onto someone else. Shalnark glances at his phone then, but based on their agreement Phinks should return sometime soon, leaving them no time to fish out any of the guilty spiders. "I'm going to tell him I just came back from the city, and saw Nobunaga and Franklin leaving right as I did." Shalnark nods sagely, as though lying was as easy of an act as breathing for him (which, it was) before turning to look at Kalluto, his unfortunate partner in the ordeal, entirely convinced that he would rather join in on the lie than suffer Phinks' wrath. “And what’s your excuse?”

Kalluto stops beside Shalnark as the scene of destruction shows its true colors before them. It's bad, but Phinks's rage is undoubtedly going to make the situation much, much worse when objects go flying. Especially since the truly guilty parties had taken off, but he doubted that would matter much at the moment. Whoever happened to be here would be taking the blame and currently that was him and Shalnark.

It takes effort for Kalluto to not drop an uncharacteristic swear from his lips, something he has yet to ever do. But if there was ever a moment for swearing, this would be the correct moment for it to make an appearance. It never happens. Such words and speech were not him. Instead, Kalluto withdraws one of his signature fans and flips it open, covering the lower part of his face with it. He might not have said a word, but the act says enough of his thoughts on the scene and implication of a statement.

On the bright side, Kalluto's rather quickly figured out the fact that Phinks is softer than he seems. Considering his whole promise to leave Kalluto behind when the young assassin had lingered in hopes of seeing Feitan's Nen, only to grab him and run, he probably had the best chance at avoiding being a victim of Phinks's wrath. Or at least the from the brnt of it. So he might have a slight advantage in that fact. Maybe.

Kalluto turns his head towards Shalnark as the other spider reveals his excuse. " Avoiding entirely as much as possible. " He has no intent to remain in full view when the shadows have always been where he's most at home. His mastery of stealth and small size certainly didn't hurt to help him potentially avoid Phinks entirely. " . . . I was practicing training when I saw Nobunaga and Franklin heading north. " An unspoken acknowledgement to the fact he would corroborate Shalnark's story ; it made sense.

[robotsightings]

Elektro the Moto-Man has a cameo in Back to the Future: Tales from the Time Train (2018) by Bob Gale and John Barber!

[wip]

A very very minor thing I have been curious about for a while, and I'm finally asking: why do you calculate queue posting times the way you do? For example, if I set my queue to post 3x a day, naively I would expect it to post every 8 hours. But in reality it posts every 6 hours with a 12 hour gap between days. Why complicate the math like that?

Answer: Hello @circumference-pie!

Buckle up y’all, it’s story time again!

First: nobody who works at Tumblr right now was a part of the work of planning the default queue implementation, which was more than ten years ago. So the full story behind “Why does it work that way?” has unfortunately been lost to the sands of time. All we can do is tell you how it works today and surmise some reasons why. The queue is actually a very clever system and part of how it works explains some of why it works the way it does. Also, there have been attempts to do what you ask—we still have “Queue 2.0” available in your Tumblr Labs settings, which tries to get closer to how you expect things to work.

Anyway! How the queue works today is not actually a queue in the traditional sense. There is no single list of posts that are in “your queue”. Instead, when you “Add to queue” after creating a post, we’re actually scheduling it to post at a future time, as if you had used the “Schedule post” option instead. We’re just calculating that time on your behalf when you use “Add to queue”, based on your settings, and how many other scheduled posts you have already. We use a secondary “index” model, called “ScheduledPost”, to keep track of posts you have scheduled on your blog. We do mark the ones that are a part of “your queue”, but the data model doesn’t keep one list of your “queue” per se.

You can see this in action on your blog, hiding in plain sight. If you add a bunch of posts to your queue, and then schedule a post for a specific future date, you’ll see both in your blog’s “queue” list, side by side. Because technically to us, they’re the same thing: queued posts are really just another kind of scheduled post, relying on the same always-running service to publish scheduled posts across all of Tumblr. Here’s a fun fact: we typically have about ~14.5 million future posts to publish from this list at any given time and are publishing hundreds of these scheduled posts every second.

So when you’re adding a new post to your queue, what we’re doing behind the scenes is starting at the beginning of your “day”, and creating time slots based on your queue settings. If a time slot is already filled, we move on to the next one. That’s why the default queue scheduler works how you describe—we’re trying to fill those “slots” based on the start of the day, rather than trying to divide the calendar day evenly. This just makes it much simpler for us to understand, scale, and predict when our “peaks” will be. At peak times, the publish-scheduled-posts service is publishing tens of thousands of posts in a manner of seconds. We did rewrite that post-publishing part of this architecture a few years ago to improve its efficiency and solve a lot of “lost post” bugs, but we didn’t change how “Add to queue” works.

However, the Queue 2.0 project available in Labs was an attempt to change the queue system to work as you expect—instead of starting at [beginning of day] and creating enough slots to fit [number of slots] every [number of hours], it tries to divide the calendar day into [number of slots] and fit the result back to the original algorithm’s mapping of the day. We never productionized this alternative approach, because it has a few bugs that some blogs hit in extreme cases, and we’ve never had time to fully fix them. It also can cause a bit of weirdness when time zones diverge, like with daylight savings time. Also, a lot of people prefer the default algorithm, and we haven’t thought of a nice way to transition everyone from one to the other. So for now, both options exist, and you can choose which algorithm for queue-slot-generating you want to use. We hope that makes sense! 

While complicated, it is a great example of a system built by engineers to make sense and be scalable and predictable. But sometimes these kinds of systems, while clever, aren’t very intuitive to understand without digging into how they work.

Thanks for your question, and keep ’em coming. 

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Coveted.

Pairing: Yandere!Geto x Reader (+Yandere!Gojo) [JJK].

Word Count: 1.1k.

TW: Set Two or Three Years Post KFC Break-Up, Intimidation, Prolonged Stalking, Future Dub/Con, Mentions of Non/Con, and Unbalanced Power Dynamics.

[Part Two]

“You’re Satoru’s date, right?”

The voice was masculine, deep and as rough as it could be without crossing the line into gravelly. You stiffened, squaring your shoulders and burrowing your nails into your palm as your eyes darted across the table – where a man with dark hair and an off-putting smile was currently sliding into the unoccupied side of your booth. He reached out, clearly planning to shake your hand, but when you failed to move, he only let out an airy chuckle, propping his chin on his fist as he went on. “I’m a friend of his – Geto Suguru. You can call me Suguru-chan, though. Has he already told you about me?”

He was dressed like he’d just rolled out of bed – his attire limited to a form-fitting black shirt and a pair of loose sweatpants in the same color, his hair pulled into a loose bun. His tone was friendly, light. You returned it with a dead-pan stare, hoping it conveyed the weight of your exhaustion. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Is that what he told you to say?” Another laugh, somehow more blood-chilling than the first. Your attention shifted outward, to the late-night diner where Gojo had asked you to meet him. There were only a few other customers, the skeleton of a proper staff, but single other person would’ve been one too many. You didn’t need to make a scene, not again, not after last time. “That sounds like him. He’s always been a stingy bastard.”

With a pressed frown, you pushed yourself to your feet, but Geto’s grin only broadened. He snapped his fingers and as if it’d only been waiting for a queue, a shape manifested at the end of your bench. You couldn’t bring yourself to look directly at it, but you saw enough out of the corner of your eye; a bulbous torso, shrunken arms, too many eyes to resemble any living thing. Instantly, what little courage you still had was replaced with a knot of dread, a bolt of pure anxiety. You half-expected it to lunge, to bite, to attack, but it didn’t move, only standing guard at the foot of your table.

It didn’t move, but it didn’t have to. In a moment, you’d fallen back into your seat and shoved yourself against the wall, fighting not to shake. It was a sight Geto seemed to take a particular joy in, letting his head lull to the side as he watched you curl into yourself. “You can see them. I was starting to think I had the wrong person.” A pause, a glance towards his summoned monster before his narrowed gaze skirted back to you. “Don’t be shy, now. How much did he tell you?”

It took you a moment to find your tongue, another to swallow back the tremor in your voice. "He said he could protect me.” It was harder to admit than you’d expected – not so much that you needed protection, but that there was something you needed protection from. You’d spent so long writing off your monsters as hallucinations that it was still a struggle to act like they were anything more. But, for as unwilling as you were to confront your little monsters, the resounding ache in your right leg where that thing had dug its claws into you was impossible to ignore. “He… he didn’t mention anyone else, but we’ve only spoken once. He was supposed to explain—” You gestured to the monster. “—all of this today.”

A slight hum, a look of genuine surprise. “So, he’s got some self-restraint after all! I thought he would’ve cracked months ago, considering how long he’s been following you around like a lost puppy.” He must’ve seen your expression fall, your posture slacken, because he didn’t wait for a response before going on. “I mean, you must’ve known that, at least. Did you think he’d play knight-in-shining-armor for just anyone?”

“I…” You trailed off quickly, shaking your head. “I don’t care. As long as he can protect me, I don’t care why he’s doing it.”

“That’s a dangerous thing to say. You wouldn’t want to make Satoru feel so replaceable, now, would you?”  

At that, you met his stare. “What do you want?”

His eyes skirted towards the monster, who took an obedient step back. For a second, you considered running, trying to slip away before the man in front of you or your newly-realized stalker could make you regret ever showing up at all, but Geto was quick to cut off your escape route, filling the empty space beside you before you could so much as pick which door you would barrel through on the way out. “Well, now that we’re on the same page,” Unlike his monster, he didn’t give you the option of leaving him in your peripheral; settling close enough for his leg to press into yours. At this proximity, you could pick up the smoke on his breath, the scent of stale gore clinging to him like a second skin. As if he’d just stepped out of a blood bath. “I’d like to make you an alternative offer.”

“You’d protect me?”

“Oh, I’d do more than just that.” His hand fell to your thigh. “I’d have everything you’ve ever been afraid of bowing to you by the end of the night.”

You swallowed dryly. “You didn’t answer my first question. What do you get out of helping me?”

His answer was nonverbal, but clear enough. With that same idle grin, he nodded toward the streaked window, to the building across the street. Your heart fell into your stomach. It was one of those sleazy, by-the-hour hotels – the sign missing more than a few letters and the parking lot as empty as the diner. It was the kind of place that you only went to for one thing, and you had a feeling Geto hadn’t found some miraculous second reason to want to be alone with you in one of those bug-infested rooms.

You weren’t sure why you said it. Maybe to buy yourself time. Maybe because you couldn’t stand the idea of being left in silence as what was left of your rational mind screamed at you to get out of there. “I don’t have any money.”

“It’ll be my treat.”

“What happens I refuse?”

“I kill everyone here,” His nails bit into exposed skin. “And then fuck you on this table while their bodies attract flies.”

You might’ve cried, if you hadn’t been so tired.

You might’ve done anything, if you could bring yourself to care about anything but keeping those awful creatures at a distance.

Stiffly, with your eyes shut and your teeth grit, you forced yourself to nod. Geto rewarded you with an impossibly wide grin, a breath of a laugh. “Smart little thing.”

This time, he didn’t pretend it was an option; reaching out, taking your trembling hand in his own, and squeezing so softly, you could almost convince yourself he was being gentle.

“It’s only a shame Satoru isn’t here to join us.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Roads Untraveled 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, pregnancy, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Single and pregnant, you discover a super soldier in the dumpster but he might not be hero you think he is. 

[This is a rewrite of a series of the same name which I removed a couple years ago]

Characters: Silverfox!Steve Rogers

Note: I finally did this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

‘When he went away  The blues walked in and met me  Oh, yeah if he stays away  Old rocking chair’s gonna get me  All I do is pray...’ 

You sway to the melody as you wipe dry the last plate. You set it in the rack as Etta James’ soulful crooning wafts around the kitchen. Just the simple task of washing the dishes has you out of breath. You can no longer hum along as you’re suddenly light headed with sweat speckled across your brow. Even the breeze drifting in through the open window can’t cool the constant heat brewing within you. 

You brace your lower back as you reach for the dish towel and pop open the cupboard. The music drones to silence as the next some in queue loads. Your rounded stomach presses to the counter as you take a mug and dry it inside and out. Strange, you don’t remember the song starting like that; the strange warbling noise much unlike Marvin Gaye’s rich tones. 

You set the mug on the shelf and back up. Another noise peaks your attention, too tinny to be a snare. You rub your stomach mindlessly as you sling the cloth over your shoulder. You waddle across the tile to the folding table beneath the window. You tap pause on your phone and the bluetooth speaker goes silent. 

Your fingers pick the damp fabric away from your bump. These days you can’t avoid getting soaked. Even as you can’t forget about the burden of your condition, you’re still oblivious to how it gets in the way until it does. You sigh as you listen for another clue. 

A pained deep grunt floats up from below. Distant but decisive, another rustle beneath the unexpected noise. You lean over the table, a hand on the ledge as you push the pane higher. You bend, stomach pressed to the speaker, and peer down. You expect another dumpster diver searching for empties to trade in; rather you meet a most unexpected sight. 

There is a man in the dumpster, alright, but he isn’t moving. From there, you can’t see very clearly. You squint at the figure strewn among the trash but the zigzag of the fire escape obscures your eye line. 

You shouldn’t go and see. Not only is it a lot of effort, but it’s dangerous. You shouldn’t be wandering into alleys to check on strangers in dumpsters. You don’t know any good reason someone might be swimming in garbage. Nor do you think they would want to be bothered.  

Still, the prickling in your neck urges you to do something. There’s just something so peculiar about the angle of the arm you can see clearer than the rest of the body. At least they’re moving, even if they sound agonized. 

You take your phone and untether it from the bluetooth speaker. You unlock it and keep your thumb ready to dial out. You move as quickly as you can, not very, and waddles along the back of the couch into the entry way. You take your keys from the hook near your door and step into your cushy slides. 

You turn back the latch and leave the door unlocked behind you. The slides shift on your swollen feet as you rush down to the elevator. God, your back hurts. You try not to lean too far back as it only adds to the pain. You need a belly belt but they’re so darn expensive. 

You’re out of breath as you step on and turn to watch the numbers count down. You’re still panting as you reach the lobby and push through the front doors, leaning into the heavy grated iron until it creaks loudly. You clamour down the steps to even ground and your hips pang. 

You put your hand under your stomach, trying to lift it and ease the pressure in your hips. You blow out between your lips as you have to slow down. You shuffle across the grass and into the paved lobby. The stink of the trash brings you back to those early days of morning sickness. And afternoon sickness. And night sickness. 

You try not to inhale too deeply as you step between the brick buildings. You bring your phone up, ready to hit those three digits in a heartbeat. You should’ve done so already. Even if you do, it’ll take hours for anyone to come out here. 

You stop and listen a few steps from the dumpster. You don’t hear anything now. You look up at the sky, dimming towards evening in a mixture of pink and blue, the moon peeking palely through the hue. You grip your phone tight, keys jangling with your movement as you continue forward. 

“Hello?” You call out, “is someone in there?” You linger near the corner of the dumpster, the trash reeking in your nostrils, “do you need help?” 

No answer. You stare up, wondering how you might see inside. If you weren’t built like a keg, you might be able to see from the lower level of the fire escape but you can’t even make it one rung. You blink and call out again. 

“Hello? Are you okay?” 

You wait for a response. Silence again. Maybe they found their way out on their own. You huff. So much for all that. All you’ve done is added to the pain in your arches. You turn on your heel and a groan gurgles and plastic crinkles noisily. 

You stop again, wavering, and peer back over your shoulder. A hand appears over the tops of the dumpsters edge and grips it. You face the large metal bin as the knuckles strain within the stained brown leather, fingertips poking out nakedly, blood and dirty tinged across the flesh. A long grunt follows as the figure drags himself to look over the top. 

“Sir, are you--” you begin, voice catching at the sight of the cowl and the man’s square jaw. The white star on his chest stuns you. It’s him. Everyone knows that uniform, that face, even under his helmet. New York’s own Captain America. 

You gape as the super soldier strains and swings himself out of the dumpster with one arm. His other is hanging limply as his feet hit the pavement. His knees crack and buckle. He drops down onto them and hisses. 

“Captain America?” You utter dumbly. 

He puts his fist to the ground and leans on his arm. He hangs his head and heaves. He drags a leg forward, planting his foot, and makes himself stand. He pushes his shoulders back and winces, reaching to cradle his dangling arm. 

“Steve,” he rasps, “goddamn.” 

You don’t expect the obscenity. Not from him. He leans against the dumpster and turns his chin up. He gnashes his teeth as he grips his arm and jerks, moving the heavy bin with his effort. The pop of his shoulder is sickening as he growls tightly. He stomps his foot and as he shakes out the arm he just put back into place. 

He reaches up and peels off his cowl as he puts his head straight. He looks at you as he wipes the streak of blood from lip to chin. His blond locks are streaked silver and his face is lined. He looks much older than the magazine covers and the TV screens. The magic of editing, right? 

He swipes the sweaty hair from his forehead and huffs. 

“Steve,” you rest your phone on your stomach, “are you okay?” 

He pushes himself away from the dumpster and puffs, “I’m fine. Just... a hiccup.” 

You stare at him. He looks tired and worn. You believe him when he says he’s okay. He's a super soldier and the world has seen his many feats. Yet he looks completely hollow. 

“Are you sure? I could call someone or...” you step forward and point to the slash that borders chest and shoulder, “you should clean that out, shouldn’t you?” 

He looks down and grimaces, “had worse. I got comms. HQ doesn’t care about a few scratches.” 

He goes to step forward and stumbles slightly. He snarls and kicks his foot into the gravel. He wiggles his knee and bends to rub the joint. 

“I...” your mouth opens and closes. This isn’t the man you’ve seen in the media. He's not smiling and golden and shining. Still, he’s the Captain. “I live above,” you gesture upward, “I could help... or maybe you can just... sit for a little bit. Get yourself straight?” 

He looks at you. As if for the first time. His forehead smooths as the tension eases from his jaw. His gaze slowly crawls down to his stomach and you see the dimple in his cheek. 

“Your husband okay with that? I’m a bit of a mess,” his tone is lighter as he fixes his grip on his cowl. 

“Oh no, I don’t have--” you chew your lip and look at the brick wall, “it’s just me. But I have first aid kit and learned to stitch in summer camp. I think I can still remember how.” 

He glances around and nods, “got a back door?” 

“Yeah, it’s... past you,” you nod in his direction. 

He pivots stiffly and cranes to see around the dumpster. You near him and your keys jingle again. You follow him to the metal door with the glass window and you shove the key in and twist. You pull it open a few inches. It’s heavier than the front door. He grabs it and wrenches it all the way back. 

“Thanks,” you murmur. “There’s an elevator.” 

“Hm, fewer people see me, the better,” he sniffs as the door clanks behind him. 

“It might take me a while,” you warn, “I’m slow.” 

“What floor. I’ll meet you,” he offers. 

“Sure, it’s three.” 

“Number?” 

“310.” 

“I’ll find it,” he states and marches towards the stair sign. 

You go to catch the elevator, stewing in disbelief on your ascent. You step off and continue on to your apartment. He’s already there. He stands with his hand on the frame, looking over his shoulder as you waddle down the hall towards him. 

“It’s unlocked,” you say. 

He opens it and waits for you. You thank him as you enter and he follows. He locks it and lingers behind you. You put your hand to the wall as you slip off your slides. He gently lays his cowl on the corner table and bends to unlace his boots. You hang the keys on the hook and place your phone on the small table. 

He leaves his dirtied boots on the mat and limps forward. You stand in the open doorway of the living room and peek back at him. He looks around reluctantly. 

“Please, sit down,” you insist and wave through the doorway before you pass through. 

“I...” he begins and you hear his uneven gait down the hallway. “I don’t want to dirty your couch.” 

“I have a steam cleaner,” you assure. “Sit, I’ll get the kit.” 

He stares, his eyes once more scanning the space. Does he think this is a trip? That you’re some covert agent who all too conveniently found him? That’s absurd. Look at you. 

You shrug off that ridiculous idea and cross to the kitchen. You open several drawers before you remember it’s in the bathroom. Of course. Your brain likes to play games these days. You grab the metal tin from under the sink and return to Steve.  

He pulls off his gloves and balls them on the side table next to the couch. You come around the other side of the couch and sit, leaving lots of space between you. You squeeze the kits as you’re once more out of breath. 

“You okay?” He turns the question on you. 

“I’m not the one bleeding. Just pregnant,” you smile. 

You balance the kit on your stomach as you lean back. You sanitize a needle and weave it with surgical thread. You put that aside and fish out an alcoholic swap. You shift the kit aside and push on the back of the couch as you try to sit forward. You shake and he helps you, a humbling assistance. 

“First,” you turn to him, “we’ll see how deep it is,” you tear open the swap, “can I...” 

“One sec,” he dips his fingers into the fabric and tears the sleeve, renting the fabric like tissue. His arm is thick and well-toned despite the years. A centurion like him can’t complain for the shape he’s in, even battered. “I can do it myself.” 

“Yes, but it wouldn’t be easy.” 

You reach as he angles towards you. You gingerly dab around the gash and he tenses. He takes a sharp breath, “you don’t have to be so gentle. I can handle pain.” 

“Right,” you work more diligently. 

He’s quiet as you tend to him, picking out gravel and some metal slivers. You worry that you might miss some. You lean in closer and he steels himself at your proximity. 

“So,” he clears his throat, “just you and...” the kid?” 

“We all make mistakes,” you chuckle. You can only laugh about it, as scared as you are. 

“Mmm,” he flinches as you sweep down the length of the cut. It’s not that deep, mostly superficial. 

“Let me put some steri-strips on, shouldn’t need the stitches, ” you say as you sift through the kit with one hand, “if you’re hungry, I have leftovers. You like chicken?” 

You don’t know why you’re offering. Maybe it’s because you owe him. Like everyone in the city. It’s your chance to give back to the hero who gave so much. Or maybe it’s because you’re so damn lonely talking to your own stomach. 

“I should go,” he insists as you place a strip across the cut. 

“Up to you,” you say, “I don’t mind either way, but I’m not going to chase Captain America out of ym apartment.” 

He doesn’t say anything. You finish dressing his wound and gather up the wrappers and all. You crumple it in one hand and rock yourself to stand. You’re overly aware of him watching you. You touch your stomach and rub it, soothing your nerves. You find him watching the movement of your hand. 

“You must be pretty far along,” he says. 

“Six months. Chicken tortellini, if you want. I was gonna reheat some. I haven’t eaten since work.” 

“Work?” He frowns and stands, moving better than before. “Should you be?” 

“I’m at a desk. It’s nothing. HR got me some ergonomic stuff. Nothing compared to what you do.” 

You put away the kit and toss the garbage. You wash your hands before you search out the container of pasta in the fridges. You sense him behind you, just in the wide archway that peers into the kitchen. You reach into the cupboard you left open and take the single plate that isn’t in the rack. 

“So, you want some?” You ask. 

He’s silent with contemplation, the shift of his weight creaks in the floor, “I appreciate it, yes, please.” 

“I might have something you can change into,” you say. You wonder why you’re doing all this. Maybe it’s that maternal instinct kicking in. “The father, before he took off, left a few things.” You peek over your shoulder, “he was a bit smaller than you.” 

He shrugs then winces at the careless gesture. “Do you mind if I wash up before I eat? I smell like garbage. I don’t wanna overstep--” 

“Go ahead, it’ll take a while to warm this up,” you say. 

Another long lull. He taps his fingers on the wall and inhales deep enough for you to hear, “promise, I’ll get out of your hair after dinner.” 

“Please, take your time,” you say as you put the tortellini in a glass pan to rebake. He backs away and you sense his hesitation, “oh, down the hall, to the left of the bedroom at the end.” 

“Thanks,” he intones, “oh, uh, just realised, you know who I am...” 

Your brows pop up and you stop before you can put the pan in the stove. You look back at him and give your name. He nods. 

“Pretty,” he comments, “also, it’s just Steve, not Captain.” 

[sansaorgana]

hullo, i adore your gale cleven stories! could you please write a buck falling in love with future wife story? meeting, proposing, + all of the little things that makes him love her. maybe she works on base and they meet there? idk. many thanks!!

hiii 😌 sorry it took me so long to go back to writing requests 🙉 your request is an idea for a long fic with many parts so I tried to fit it into a one-shot and it came out pretty long so the proposal part kinda didn't make it but it's mentioned 👌🏻

I currently have quite a few requests and I'm slowly working on them!!! 💛

my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗

Not being able to fall asleep, Buck was laying in bed and kept staring at the celling, thinking of you. He lately couldn't stop thinking of you at all and he wanted it to remain his secret but it was also affecting his functioning on daily basis. Pilots shouldn't get distracted like that.

It wasn't love at first sight or anything of that sort. You were handing him coffee each morning and he had always been nothing but polite but – let's face it – most of the time he treated you like air. You were there because you had to, because all of you had to. It was your job to be there and you were nothing special amongst all the other men and women working at the base. He admired women's courage to sign up to help men while they were at war but he didn't even remember your name correctly.

Until that one rainy grey morning when everything seemed to go as bad as possible and you spilled the hot coffee on Buck Cleven.

"Goddamit!" he hissed and looked down at his now stained shirt. The stinging pain and the dampness of the fabric weren't very pleasant either.

"Oh my God. I'm sorry, Major," you gasped and panicked inside.

Major Cleven looked up to lay his blue eyes on you and you batted your eyelashes, stunned at how beautiful they were. He thought you did that to soften him up in a feminine manner. And his heart indeed grew softer at the sight of your face.

"It's fine," he nodded even though it wasn't. "I'll go change and when I'm back, have another one for me."

"You sure you want me to hand it to you, sir?" you joked, cheered up by the visible lack of his anger.

"We all get shaky hands sometimes," he smiled at you and left the queue. You felt bad about the fact he had to go out on the rain again and that his shirt was ruined because of you.

You personally washed it and made sure the stains went away. He had no idea about it but women responsible for the laundry were your friends. Actually, you didn't want him to know because you felt like it was a little odd on your part… So you sneaked in to the room where he had been sleeping and you placed the folded shirt on his bed carefully. You thought you were alone there but you heard someone clearing their throat behind you so you turned around and faced Major Buck Cleven himself. Your cheeks started to burn out of embarrassment.

"Major Cleven," you looked down like a child caught on stealing candy.

"Miss…"

"(Y/L/N)," you introduced yourself quietly.

"Miss (Y/L/N)," he nodded, "may I ask what you're doing?"

"I… I brought you fresh laundry, sir," you looked up at him. He seemed to be a little amused with you as he was casually chewing on a toothpick.

"I had no idea you were responsible for that, too."

"No, usually I am not, sir," you shook your head.

"Is it related to our little coffee incident perhaps?" he approached his bed and glanced at the perfectly folded and ironed shirt that seemed to be a shade lighter than before from all the chemicals you had used to get rid of the stains.

"Well, no point of lying, although I did not mean for you to know, Major… Well, I…" you took a deep breath in. "I washed it," you confessed, awkwardly.

"I can see that," he chuckled. "It's a shade lighter," he commented.

"I am so sorry, sir."

"I am the one who's sorry for your pretty hands. If that's what your washing did to my shirt, I don't want to know what it did to them," he looked down at your fingers that were playing nervously with the hem of your jacket. There was a long pause of silence between you until he finally raised his eyebrows and pointed at your hands. "Show me?" he asked.

You were a little taken aback by that request. And a little ashamed, too, because indeed your hands looked a bit rough from the laundry chemicals. You raised your hands for him to see, though.

"Ouch," he shook his head. "You shouldn't have done that," he looked deep into your eyes and you thought you'd faint any given second. They were so ocean blue, so easy to drown in.

"I'm sure your hands are no better, Major," you swallowed thickly. "Rough from the piloting and… everything."

"That's how pilot's hands should look like, miss (Y/L/N)," he pointed out and you hid your hands from his sight quickly.

"Yes, you're risking your life out there every other day and the least I could do was washing a shirt that I had previously ruined… Sir."

"Was it the first shirt you ruined?" Major Cleven took a step closer and your heart skipped a beat when you realized he was getting closer to you on purpose.

"Well… No," you didn't want to lie to him. You had spilled coffee on a few men before.

"And you washed all of these shirts, I'm safe to assume?" he asked.

"No, sir," you pursed your lips for a moment to stop them from shivering. He raised an eyebrow at you. "None of the men were so kind about it," you told him.

It wasn't really the truth. Major Cleven didn't get angry at you but none of the men really did. He just captivated you with his beautiful eyes. That's why you knew you acted pathetic to wash his shirt personally and didn't want to get caught.

But just because there was a war raging around you, it didn't change the fact you were a woman with your own heart and soul, your own needs and desires, your yearning and romantic ideas. You had a crush on him from the moment he screamed "Goddamit" in that deep voice of his. As silly as it sounded.

You couldn't remember the last time you had felt something so… real and not war-realted. Something that wasn't stress, fear, worry or sadness.

"We all work hard here. There was no need to be rude about a small accident," Major Cleven explained. "And your job is as important as mine here."

"Hardly, sir," you snorted at that because it was just ridiculous. But when you looked up to meet his gaze, you could see that he was serious about it.

"You shouldn't argue with a Major, should you?" he teased and you rolled your eyes a little.

"I suppose so. But my ma's always been saying I have a big mouth," you cracked a smile and he looked a little surprised before smiling back.

"Well, well, well, who would have thought?"

"Everyone who knows me outside this base, sir."

"Well, I hope it's going to be me one day, too, then," he winked and then walked past you as if nothing had just happened. "I'm sorry, I have to fill some papers."

"Sure, sir," you stuttered out and watched him walk out of the door. You touched your cheeks with the palms of your hands. They were as hot as if you had a fever.

Since then, you two would have little conversations like that here and there. You would find out more and more about each other and Buck quickly started to get attached. He loved your laugh, the little wrinkles around your eyes whenever you smiled at him, he loved your accent, your curls straight out of a magazine cover, he loved your soft fingers when you were handing him a coffee, he loved your jokes and how devoted you were to help around the base. The sound of your voice was making his every day better and each morning he waited for you to lay your eyes on him.

And now he couldn't sleep because he remembered something that had happened earlier that day when he was up in the air above Germany and one of the missiles almost hit his plane. He watched it explode in front of him and his only thought was that if it had actually killed him, he would die without you knowing how much you meant to him.

He didn't mean to fall in love because it was a distraction. But he could also die any day. There was no point and it would only bring pain to everyone involved. And yet, he was not immune to your charm.

"You look like shit, have you even slept?" Bucky asked during breakfast.

"No," Buck admitted and sighed. He was holding a cup of warm coffee in his hands, still angry at the fact that today it hadn't been you handing it to him. There was a very long queue waiting in your line and some other woman handed a cup to him without even asking him if he wanted one.

"What's wrong?" Bucky started eating as he glanced at his friend's full plate of untouched food.

"I think I might have fallen in love."

Bucky laughed at first but then he stopped, realizing that Buck's face was as serious as ever.

"Oh, fuck," Bucky wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned back on the chair to examine his friend's face and posture. He looked troubled. "Is it that girl you always talk to?"

"You've noticed?" Buck raised an eyebrow at him.

"Everyone has. We were betting on when you two would… you know," Bucky grinned.

"And that is one of the reasons why I hate gambling," Buck wasn't pleased to find out. He felt like it was disrespecrful to you. "What did you bet on?"

"That you never confess your feelings and going to be sad about it your whole life," Bucky teased. It wasn't what he really placed his bet on but he wanted to motivate his friend.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

Buck sighed and placed the coffee cup down before standing up and approaching you. You were handing out coffee to the men waiting in line but he walked up to you from the side so you turned around with a warm smile.

"Good morning, Major. Don't think you can fool me, I know you've already had a cup," you smiled at him.

"Are you free this weekend?" Buck asked because he had known the answer. You had mentioned to him the other day that you would leave the base for the upcoming weekend.

"I am, sir," you nodded. God, he even loved how you would always address him "sir" or "Major". Something about it was making him feel weak and absolutely crazy about you.

"I have a weekend pass, too," Buck lied. He didn't but he was going to make sure he'd get one. He hadn't had any day off since he came to the base so Colonel would give it to him surely.

"Oh, nice, sir," you batted your eyelashes. This time you did that on purpose.

"Would you like to go to London with me? I've never been there," he proposed and the man who was taking coffee from you at that moment, froze for a second and widened his eyes at Major Cleven. Then he smirked, waiting for your response as much as Buck.

"I… Ugh… Well… Sir, I…" you hated yourself for not being able to articualte yourself properly. "I would love to, Major Cleven," you said finally with a smile.

At first you wanted to tell him it would be inappropiate. And that you actually planned on visiting your family. But then you remembered you were at war and he could die any day. No one cared about being appropiate. And your family would understand, surely.

"Whoo!" The man taking coffee from you cheered and you gave him a scolding look. He blushed and walked away as fast as possible.

"I will gladly go, Major," you repeated yourself, "but you better remember I'm a proper lady, sir."

"Oh, of course," Buck nodded.

There you were, his proper lady. Sleeping on his chest in a London's hotel room. He watched you breathe peacefully as he caressed your hair. The morning rays of sunshine were creeping in through the curtains and he wished to stop the time. He wished to lay with you forever like that. He didn't want to go back to reality.

You moved a little in his arms and he saw your eyelids opening slowly.

"Good morning, my proper lady," he teased as his fingertips caressed your bare back.

"Good morning, Mr. Good Boy," you teased him back and yawned before rubbing your eyes. "What time is it?"

"Still quite early. We don't have to leave yet," Buck answered.

"I'm glad," you bit on your lower lip and looked up to meet the gaze of his beautiful eyes. "It was the eyes," you admitted.

"Hm?"

"I fell for the eyes mostly," you confessed in a whisper.

He didn't say anything for a while. He was left speechless at you being so open with your feelings; he felt like the luckiest man on earth.

"I'm glad you fell for me," he decided to be playful to hide how weak you were making him feel. You raised an eyebrow at his choice of words. "Because now we have to get married."

"Oh, you Americans," you rolled your eyes jokingly. "I wasn't the first girl you slept with, come on," you giggled.

"But you were the first proper lady, for sure," he tickled you a little and you cupped his face to place a kiss upon his lips.

"Don't joke with me like that," you whispered. "Because I'll really want to marry you and then I won't leave you alone. I'll fly to America and follow you everywhere like a maniac," you half-joked.

"You promise?" Buck's eyes softened and his voice sounded very serious. You watched him carefully as his hand gently fixed one of your reckless curls. God, he really meant that.

"And what will you tell our kid? How did daddy meet mummy?" you asked.

"Well, she spilled coffee on me and batted her eyelashes at me. I was practically sold," Buck pulled you closer to place a kiss on the top of your head.

"Doesn't take much for you to fall in love, Buck Cleven. Makes me seriously worried about your fidelity," you teased.

"You fell for my eyes. Do you have any idea how many other men have blue eyes?" Buck laughed.

You laughed, too, because he had a point. And then you got serious again and caressed his cheeks with your fingers before pressing your forehead to his.

"Well, none of them is Buck Cleven."

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[hoony2k]

Is jake here?

Shakespeare says "tis was written in the stars before they even met"

-You're lost in life and move to Seoul where you find your peace in a boy. Jake's in a band and is looking for a girl he's been obsessed with ever since she appeared in his dream. You're both broken but maybe you can learn to be better through each other.

Pairing: Sim Jaeyun x reader

Genre: scott pilgrim au!, band au!, set in 2000s, he's kinda silly.

Cast: Sunghoon, jay, sumin (stayc)

Warning: reader smokes once :(

Word Count: 2k

Notes: this is for neo127's event! this was genuinely so fun to write, thank you for the fun event! this is actually a deleted scene that I love sm, i wanted to be so poetic but i had to stop my demons cause this is a movie with tom foolery and deep meaning. also i'm kind of stupid and saved this in drafts and not queue.

masterlist

Take 1

There was a ringing in Jake’s mind that alerted him of the dangers awaiting him, but the allure of your presence removed all prior warnings. You came into his life like a dream, filled the hollow void in his soul. None of his past attempts at experiencing euphoria or reaching infinity worked, but with you around entertaining his unfunny jokes, he was consumed by the black hole in one clean swoop.

In other terms, you were the little riff he needed in the song, the extra healing ability granted to his game characters, you were a dream. The warning, the future and the rest was history. It was only you and him in the whole universe. By your side, Jake finally felt like the world wasn’t against him.

Or so he thought.

Seven little exes, not seven little kisses.

Take 2

Jake forced his body to move. “Left right, left right”, he mumbled and mechanically trudged up the stairs, bumping into drunk partygoers without an apology. He caught a glimpse of you the other day and he prayed the next time you saw him he’d be taller and looked way cooler, not desperate or down bad at all. Hopefully, he’d find the courage to approach you in privacy. It had been ages of simply dreaming about you.

Not even the buzz of the party could get your eyes and nonchalant expression out of Jake’s mind. The thirst to reunite left him dry to the bone and in dire need of the washroom due to pure boredom sparked by the party. His drink sploshed in the red up, spilt over the rim and onto the cuff of his new jacket. He winced at the sticky and cold sensation.

At this point, he was willing to manifest you into appearing.

Jake reached the landing and felt Comeau call out to him. “Wanna drink with us?”

He shook his head and slightly pouted. “No, I don’t drink”.

Comeau frowned at him, “What do you mean you don’t drink?”

Jake offered a non-committed shrug and lightly waved his arm around.

“This is just iced coffee”.

His friend’s frown deepened. “What does that mean? I distinctively remember you being drunk-”

“Hey you know everyone, right?”, Jake swiftly brushed off the memory and swayed Comeau by the compliment. “You know this one girl with hair like this?”

His pout was replaced with a determined look and pulled out crumpled paper with a poorly sketched one-lined drawing of what appeared to be a face with no evident features or expressions. There was no possible way to understand the scribble immediately.

His friend rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I know her. That’s Y/N-“

God was real. The universe loved him and perhaps this was good karma for all the okay things he had done in life. His friend continued to ramble trivia about you but it all flew over Jake’s head until he heard I heard she was going to be here tonight and it brought heat back into his veins. All it took were those mere words to become the catalyst of his insanity.

Jake dove into the crowd, and took in the sight of numerous strangers with unfamiliar hairstyles and smiles. He searched for your dyed hair in the crowd and despite unsteady breathing and shaking hands due to anticipation and nervousness, his gaze met your frame leaning on a wall. Hair pink instead of blue and you were alone holding a cup which served as a friend. You appeared bored out of your mind, glancing at the drunk bodies dancing around in bliss. Jake wondered asking you if you wanted a refill.

He slid on the dirty wallpapered wall and inch close to you. As he felt heat radiate off your body, he took it as a sign to halt. Though he tried to be subtle, his desperation to talk to you poured down his body in a giant tidal wave. Jake turned his honey eyes to your figure, it was party concealed under his locks that covered an eye. You stared right at him.

“Do you like pac man?”, the words stumbled out of his lips before he realised.

What? No-no, that’s not-

You gave him a slight nod then shifted your attention back to the crowd. Uncommitted but it did not discourage him.

He shuffled closer to you; the creases of his oversized jacket bumped into the bag strap on your shoulder. You didn't move away.

Jake cheered internally; this was going well.

Jake took it as a sign to continue. He puffed his chest out. “You know the original name for Pac-Man was Puck-Man. Not because he looks like a hockey puck. But it's Paku Paku. Means flap your mouth."

He planned on offering you a detailed history of the game, a topic that the pair of you apparently shared and enjoyed. That was before you placed your full untouched cup on a table and turned to him.

He hadn't realised you moved to look up at him.

"But they thought people would scratch out the "p" and turn it into an "f" like-"

Jake's voice died in his throat and his eyes blinked at the intensity of your gaze. You stared up at him with calm wisdom, hiding all the secrets in the world in your gaze.

He observed how there was a thin sheen of sweat on your hairline despite the cold season of decay. With so many bodies running, dancing and chatting away, the house was bound to get humid.

Jake could barely hear your voice over the thump thump of his heartbeat. The tips of your hair that clung onto the apples of your cheek moved when you spoke.

You took a step closer to him and whatever confidence he had evaporated. Jake fumbled with the end of his jacket and then promptly shoved his hands inside his pockets.

You did not look displeased at the sight, in fact, nothing changed in your eyes but Jake swore he saw a hint of a small smile. However, his fear and nerves got the best of him.

"I'm going to leave you alone forever now-"

"Wanna get out of here?"

Take 3

The sky was dark again. The winter nights crept up quickly, shunning the sun away but Jake liked it.

He liked how the night sky reminded him of you, the simple serene moments spent either in silence or secrecy.

You brought light into his life. It was dark elsewhere.

He saw a shadow of a figure dressed in several jackets a couple of feet away and only when he walked closer did he realise who it was.

"What are you doing here?", he called out to you, referring to the time.

You quirked up an unamused brow.

"Dude, I was waiting for you."

Immediately Jake felt apologetic. And maybe a bit pathetic that he came late (on time) to the hangout (unofficial official date). Or maybe he felt giddy knowing you didn't show your nervous attitude yet cared deeply enough for him to arrive on time.

"I'm sorry. I thought you assumed you were too cool to arrive on time", he confessed. It was easier with you.

He didn't have to lie about where he went like how he did whenever Sunghoon asked him about his whereabouts or skirt around in conversations where Sumin decided to target him (all for reasons that proved he deserved it).

He didn't need to pretend he was someone better, a moralistic ideal version of himself or someone worse, an edgy rockstar who had a strange code of rules to live by.

With you, Jake could be transparent. All his unpolished edges, raw mistakes and life missteps were seen and never judged.

You were like him and he was like you.

Maybe there was a reason he saw you in his dreams long before. Maybe the two of you were interconnected in a cosmic way. He didn't know.

You looked at him up and down before turning and beginning to walk near the middle of the park.

"Well, you were wrong".

Jake quickly walked beside you and fell into the same rhythm. "Do you wanna get a bite? Or watch a movie? We could get pizza before watching something. We could flip through the records I have at home".

You gently shook your head and Jake couldn't help but pout at your dismissal.

"What's wrong?" He asked, too impatient.

You sighed softly; air comes out in puffs of smoke.

You point at nearby empty swings. The chain was rustic and seems strong enough to carry two adults.

"Follow me", you whispered in the late night. There was no one around. The park was deserted, filled with snow to the brim. The swing seats squeaked when you brushed off the sleeping snow from them.

Jake sniffled, shoved his hands in his pockets once more. He didn't mind the silence until it stretched on for more than a minute, maybe...maybe it was less but Jake hated silence.

"This is nice", he shuffled and lightly kicked his feet off the ground. The metal shrieked and he swayed back and forth.

You nodded and mimicked his actions.

"This is nice".

Jake turned to look at you once more. He noticed how often he'd stare at you only to look away when you caught his gaze. There was something that had been on his mind for days. He tip toed towards the topic.

"So, why'd you come to Seoul?"

Immediately you look down at your shoes, then swing yourself higher than before.

"I wanted a change of scenery. Needed a reset and got a job here so I thought, why not?"

It was an honest reply.

The sound of gravel grabbed his attention, the metal squeaked again and you paused the pendulum to fish out an item from your pocket.

He had to squint in the minimal lighting and Jake had to hold in his surprise as you pulled out a cigarette and lit it easily.

A hand covered your lips and the tip of the cigarette, the small flame decorated the end of your nose and chin in a scarlet hue. Jake stared at you in awe, doe eyes widened.

"You smoke?", he couldn't help it. You did wonders at surprising him each time you met.

You inhaled it slowly and turned from Jake's direction to blow the air. Two fingers toyed with the cigarette.

"On special occasions". Your lips stretched a bit and Jake saw how the gloss shone under the moonlight. God, he was doomed from the start.

He didn't mind the bounce in his voice, he tiled his position and brought his swing next to yours until the metal chains halted him. The scent of slight smoke and your citrus perfume filled his senses.

It felt like he was on stage once more, guitar in his hands, flicking away at the strings with inhuman speed. He felt the high he experienced on stage; the surge of emotions that made him giddy. He tapped his foot unconsciously, imitating the vibrations the band would feel when Sumin hit her drums.

"Is this a special occasion?"

Your eyes hadn't stranded him and his lovesick expression finally pulled a laugh out of you. You were satisfied when you moved to Seoul, but the buds in your stomach began to blossom, Jake made you crave for more than satisfactory.

"I don't know. You tell me", you teased him and Jake's smile got wider. His eyes crinkled adorably and you could see the gums of his teeth with how wide he was smiling.

Then, for a split second, something flashed in his eyes, something serious. It paused your arm mid-way from bringing the cigarette to your lips.

Jake averted his gaze, his dark brown bangs covered his face from view, and you could only see the tip of his tall nose and his red ears. Perhaps from the cold, perhaps from you.

He took a deep breath.

"When I'm around you, I kind of feel like I'm on drugs. Not that I do drugs. Unless you do drugs, in which case I do them all the time."

When he finished, Jake turned to you and the poor swing squeaked once more. His face was determined, shoulders no longer hunched like usual but his eyes wavered, swam across your form to see a hint of disgust or discomfort from you.

You laughed in his face.

"Hey!", Jake shouted and it echoed in the night.

Loud laughter bubbled from your lips, you tried to hide your mouth behind your free hand but Jake quickly grabbed it so he could defend himself. Seeing how delighted you were, your entire body buzzing with giggles, Jake felt himself relax and giggle with you. Though he didn't let go of your arm.

He saw the fallen cigarette on the ground, you probably forgot about it when you began to chuckle. He leaned forward and stepped on it.

When he landed his attention on you, you were more composed but the shaking did not stop. It was a futile attempt at covering your glee, Jake was obsessed, he was probably feeling the L-word (love) as well but he wasn't sure.

Though he understood from all the times he couldn't concentrate in practice and Sunghoon or Jay would have to call his name loudly to pull him out of daydreams of you and back to reality, when Sumin stopped questioning his intentions with you and replaced her usual indifferent glares with mild fascination, Jake knew he felt something more than like for you. He felt like he was hypnotised by your melody, your casual demeanour, overflowing confidence and assured attitude. It sucked him in from the night he dreamt of you.

Jake's hand slithered down from the curve of your elbow and slipped into the warmth of your hand. Your laughter had finally ceased, now replaced with a tender look. Jake smiled like he had never done before. You interlocked your fingers together and squeezed him palm.

It would be okay, the future would be more than okay-probably. He'd still have to go to practice, get yelled at by his sister and then get yelled at other bands when Sunghoon irked them on purpose. Maybe he'd have to eventually confront your seven exes. Nothing about you was simple, everything was too intricate, it was like he had entered a game and had to win all rounds before getting crowned "official boyfriend".

But it was more than okay because Jake knew you were worth it-you liked him and he liked you. There were no mind games, this was the simplest love he had experienced. He couldn’t stop thinking of you and you couldn’t stop ringing his landline. By your side, Jake concluded that even if he wasn’t the strongest, he’d figure out a way and fight the world for you.

Thank you for reading. Please do not edit/translate

[rrrrinmaru]

call me by my name (xavier x mc)

wc: 2058 rating: T

It was just something you had seen online. Call your lover by their name instead of the pet name that had almost become second nature to you—the reactions from the boyfriends and husbands of Linkon City were always so amusing. The more you watch these videos, scrolling idly through your phone as you lounged on the sofa on one of your rare off days, the more you want to test it on Xavier. 

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? You can barely remember when the last time you called Xavier by his name—somewhere along the lines, maybe a few months into dating, you accidentally called him baby. 

You remember how it happened, even if you can’t place the exact date. The both of you were strolling down the streets of Linkon City, on the way to one of the cafes another Hunter had recommended to you. You remember the weight of his hand on your waist, gently guiding you along as you focused on the navigation panel on your phone, trying to suss out what exit you had to take in order to take the shortest path there. 

“You okay there?” Xavier murmured, a smile audible in his voice as he pulled you out of the way of some passer-by. “You’re squinting at the phone.”

“No, I got it,” you told him, even as you continued to furrow your brows at the screen and attempt the tried and tested method of lifting it up to the sky to get better signal, as if that would help your case. “Just give me a second, I think we need to turn somewhere up ahead, just—” you spoke, without really thinking it through, the words tumbling out of your mouth while your higher brain functions were wholly focused on reading the damn map, “—give me a sec, baby, I got it. We turn left in a bit, like—”

The fingers on your waist flexed. You looked up at him, barely registering the dilation in his pupils and the way his lips were parted, but you remember noticing the dazed look in his eyes. 

“Xavier? You okay?” 

“Hm,” He hummed, blinking out of his daze. “I’m good. No need to worry about me, just let me know when to turn.” 

And then he smiled at you, so disarmingly that you almost missed your turn.

Regardless, after that incident, Xavier teased you about the pet name until you gave in and repeated it in a quiet, shameful voice. Again, and again, until Xavier hooked you in by his arms around your waist and pressed his lips to yours, kissing you stupid. 

From that day on, you didn’t really call him by his name. Which is why the thought of switching it up excites you. It’s so enticing that you even get up to hunt for your old phone, setting it up in a discrete location near the living room to record his reaction. You won’t publish it, not when the both of you are such private individuals, but you look forward to saving his reaction for future reference, and maybe even future blackmail. 

You wait in anticipation, instinctively checking the clock every few minutes to count down to Xavier’s return. As time passes, you get distracted by the latest novel on your phone and you’ve almost forgotten about your grand plan until you hear the familiar sound of a key turning in your lock.

Immediately, you fly to your hidden phone to click record, and then rush back to the sofa. Your heart rate spikes a little from excitement, and you struggle to tamp down the smile that threatens to surface. 

The door pushes open, and you’re greeted by the gorgeous sight of Xavier stepping through your door, groceries in hand. 

Gods help me, you think, fondness bursting from your heart so vividly at the domestic sight that you think you might drown, I love you.

“The queue was long,” Xavier says, a touch of complaint in his voice. He closes the door behind him, slipping the keys into his pocket as he toes his shoes off. “There was a problem with the self-checkout machines, so everyone had to wait in line at the normal cashiers.”

The pet name almost slips off your tongue. It’s so easy to say it, when he’s acting a little whiny like this—when he gets in the mood to be just a little, tiny little bit like he wants to be babied. 

“Aw,” you say in a commiserating tone. “Do you want any help with putting those away?”

Xavier looks at the bag in his hand, then looks at the way you’re curled up on the couch. “No. Stay there; you look comfortable. I’ll come join you once I’ve placed them away.” 

He lifts the bag, peering in as if to check the contents again. “I’ll be quick, so make sure there’s space for me once I’m done.”

“Okay,” you reply, fighting the urge to smile when Xavier lifts his gaze to look inquisitively at you. Usually, there would be a pet name trailing on the end of that sentence. You think Xavier can tell something’s a little off, but he can’t place his finger on it quite yet. 

He wanders to your kitchen—the groceries he bought, sitting in your kitchen so the both of you can cook in your kitchen later, before he takes a shower in your bathroom and changes into his clothes that take up half of your wardrobe. 

Everytime you’re reminded of how much he’s carved out a space for himself in your life, his presence so steady and solid that you’re almost surprised when he isn’t in your house, as if you’ve forgotten the both of you aren’t cohabitating. Yet. 

Xavier hums to himself as he puts the groceries away. His voice is light, like stardust carrying on the wind as it trickles over to where you are on the sofa. You sit up, eyes bright as you peek over the back of the couch to see him bustling about in your kitchen. He opens cabinets to set things aside, so sure of where things are that it makes your heart kick in your chest.

To be known so dearly, so deeply—you don’t think anyone’s ever known you like this, so certainly that it feels like he’s always been a part of your mind rather than someone you met a few years ago. 

“Xav,” you call out, folding your arms on the back of the sofa and pressing your face into your forearms to hide your smile, “could you help me get a drink?”

Xavier pauses. His back is to you, shirt riding up slightly as he stretches up to place a sack of flour in the cabinet above your countertop. You see him slowly move to push the flour further in, the bend of his long fingers as he ensures there’s no chance of the flour falling out when you open the cabinet later. 

Once he’s done, he turns around to face you. There’s a blank look on his face as he leans back, hip against the countertop while he folds his arms across his chest. 

“Xav?” He asks, brows furrowing. “I don’t think I know anyone by that name, princess.”

You have to smother your smile or it’ll show on your face. Going from the way Xavier’s lips are curving up of their own accord, though, you don’t think you’re doing a very good job. “It’s your name, Xav. Xavier. Could you help get me a drink from the fridge?”

“Hm.” Xavier drags the sound out, rolling it on his tongue. He gives you a long, contemplative look. “No, princess,” he says mildly, looking faintly amused. “I can’t. I don’t know who you’re talking to.”

“Xavier,” you repeat, tilting your head as you blink up at him. “A drink, please?”

He chuckles, Xavier moves in this slow, languid way as he unfurls his arms and walks over. His eyes are a little dark, lips upturned in a knowing smile as he makes his way to the sofa. There’s this look in his gaze, this knowing look that makes you feel transparent with how he sees right through you. As he nears you, you take your arms off the back of the couch and lean back.

You can’t help it. The way he looks at you is filled with such intent that it takes your breath away. Your heart thumps in your chest, like you’re nothing more than a prey animal confronted by its natural predator. A little bunny’s heart jackhammering away in your chest. 

And then he places the flat of his palms against the back of his couch, far apart enough that he can brace himself against it as he leans down, enough for the collar of his shirt to droop and for you to get a good look at the slant of his clavicle. He’s so close, leaning over you as you sit there on the couch, and you swear you can feel the puff of his breath against your lips.

You can’t focus on just one thing. The flutter of his eyelashes as he looks at you, the softness of his cheeks, the half-moon curve of his parted lips—and his eyes, as blue as the sky, glittering with a promise as he stares down at you.

“That’s not my name, princess,” Xavier breathes out. “You know what my name is in this household.”

In the back of your mind, you wonder what you look like right now. Your eyes must be dilated. Your mouth is open from shock, and your fingers are trembling from where they are clutched around the pillow in your lap. Your heart trips over itself, throbbing so violently that you feel lightheaded. 

If you leaned up, just a little, you would be able to press your lips against his. You know you could. The distance between your lips is almost negligible, so close you think you can feel the skate of his lips against yours. 

It’s a tease. You know he’s teasing you right now, the way you teased him, and you can’t help but fall headfirst into his trap. You walk right into it, eyes wide open and conscious as you let yourself get tied up, as you let yourself drown in that swallowing, all-encompassing gaze. 

“What is it?” Your eyes drop to his lips before crawling back up to meet his gaze. 

“I only answer to baby,” Xavier murmurs, mouth curving in a smile. “That’s what you call me, princess.”

You smile, eyes crinkling as you peer up at him. “Baby.”

Xavier lets out a low laugh that sends your insides tumbling. “That’s my girl,” he says, and leans down right as you reach up to press your lips together.

You sigh, eyes closing as you sink into the kiss, and he swallows the sound with relish. One hand reaches up to cup your jaw, pulling you in so he can fit his mouth to yours, tongue slipping between your lips. His thumb presses against your skin, gently stroking the underside of your jaw, and you instinctively reach up to curl your fingers into the collar of his shirt. 

“C’mere,” you say in between kisses, gasping for breath. “There’s space—here, on the couch.”

“Mmhmm.” Xavier glances down, eyeing the space between your legs, the obstructive cushion on your lap, and steadies one hand on the back of the couch. “A little tight, but we’ll make it fit.”

He lets his gaze wander back up to you, and gives you a knowing smile. “We always make it fit, don’t we, princess?”

You get the sense he isn’t really talking about the sofa, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks as he vaults over the couch to settle between your thighs. The cushion is removed, flung away from the sofa with a vengeance you didn’t know Xavier possessed, and then he presses his weight down on you, one hand on your waist with the other curving around the back of your neck to hold you in place as he noses along your cheek, and you stop getting distracted by irrelevant things like where your cushion is, or whether he put away all the groceries that need to be refrigerated, at the very least. 

And an hour later, when you’re both out of breath, it occurs to you that your phone’s still recording. 

==

© rrrrinmaru 2024 | no unauthorised publication or reproduction allowed

[hidden-snow]

‿୨♡ Ｄａｄｄｙ＇ｓ Ｌｉｔｔｌｅ Ｐｒｉｎｃｅｓｓ ♡୧‿

Warnings/ content:// p in v, daddy kink, age gap, pregnancy kink, heats, fingering, oral - female receiving, pet names, slight orgasm denial, queue pulling

Characters:// Jake x Na’vi reader

Word count // 1,785

You have always been daddy’s little princess. Covered in cum and and sweat, with slick wetness pooling down from between your thick thighs, you were the sight of pure pretty perfection in his eyes.

Even more so, when he imagined you swollen with his child, belly full and rounded. Fuck, he wanted to see you pregnant more than anything in this world.

Unfortunately, between your numerous duties as the teacher and mentor of future hunters and warriors and his duties as the olo’eyktan of the clan, neither of you have had the time to just sit and talk over the possibility of a future baby. And he wasn’t one to do as he pleased when it came to your body in the long run.

So you both waited, dancing around your heats, staying apart until the last of the effects had subsided and you were in the safe zone again.

He always made it up to you; fucking you dumb all night long for multiple nights straight afterwards, but it was getting to be almost not worth it.

Your heats were horrible, hazy but full of fucking yourself with your own fingers buried knuckle-deep inside of your pussy while thinking about your daddy and how much better he could fill you.

Choking on sobs, covered in sweat, you trembled on your mat, thighs spread apart while fingers bobbed in and out of your heat, squelches sounding as your fingers moved within your soaked cunt. And all you could do was yearn for daddy, wishing he’d come and help you.

Your ears perked to the sound of footsteps, your fingers halting in their thrusts, and you wait, body trembling on the mat, tail slowly slipping back and forth on your bedding.

“Kid? I know we agreed to wait till after yer heats and everythin’…. But I-“

He didn’t even get the chance to finish before you were pulling him into your alcove, pressing your lips tightly against his, hands sliding up to wrap around his shoulders while you began to grind your cunt against his clothed cock.

“Daddy,” you whine out, panting softly at the friction you’re giving yourself and, judging by the growing stiffness against your wet folds, Jake’s just barely keeping himself restrained.

“If you do this, we’ll have a baby coming. Are you sure you wanna do this?”

His voice is paper-thin, stiff and a little jostled.

“Wanna have your baby, daddy. Please?”

“You’d look pretty with daddy’s baby, yeah? My pretty little princess, full with my baby.”

His voice was soft, gentle purr, his fingers sliding down to cup your ass, digging in to the soft flesh of your cheeks to leave little crescent shape moons in your skin.

You can’t speak, too focused on the firey-hot heat burning in your core as his breath ghosted your neck, sending shivers down your spine. His fingers grip your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Answer me,” he growled out softly and you nod.

“Y-yes, daddy.”

He didn't waste anymore time, pressing you flat against the mat beneath you, his body wedged in between your thighs, palms planted on either side of your head. His lips met yours, crashing into a heated kiss full of desire and love, sending sparks of heat spiraling down your body, adding to the mounting heat in your body.

At some point between laying you down and climbing on top, he’d discarded his loincloth, his cock resting against your bare belly as he kissed you, and you slid your hand down, wrapping your fingers around his thick girth, bobbing your hand up and down, pulling soft moans from his mouth.

“Fuck, baby girl. H-hold on,” he panted, reaching down and removing your hand, causing you to whine out in frustration.

“Watch it,” he warned, throwing you a sharp look. “Don’t be a brat.”

He knew you couldn’t help it, knew that you were just so eager to have him in you, judgement clouded by your heat and sexual desires, but you were still expected to behave. And you’d have to if you were going to get what you wanted.

Jake sat back, taking in your flushed appearance, skin prickling with sweat, eyes lidded with desire and mouth open as you panted softly. Your legs were spread wide, folds glistening with slick, and your thighs were already sticky with your own fluids.

“Jesus, princess. Lookin’ so good, aren’t you? Daddy’s gonna fuck you so good, isn’t he?” he murmured and you nod eagerly, like a bobble-head toy, bouncing around excitedly.

“Good girl.”

He dropped down between your thighs, tongue flicking out to lick up the sweet juices soaking your heat, and you jump, moaning softly at the sudden jolt of pleasure spiking through you.

“D-daddy,” you groan out, whining and gasping as his tongue slips in between your folds, lapping at your pussy, savoring the flavor of yours, his fingers coming down to rub shapes into your clit. All you could do was hold on for the ride, wriggling and moaning, gasping out cuss words and pleas for “more”.

As you felt your orgasm approaching, he pulled his face back, lips covered in your slick, and switched places with his fingers, latching onto your clit, tongue swirling around the nub as his fingers thrusted into you, providing a better stretch than what your own could do. He could feel your walls twitching around his fingers, a sign of your approaching orgasm, and that seemed to fuel his efforts further, thrusting and sucking mixing into a delicious mixture that sent you quickly over the edge of your climax, crying out as your back arched.

His fingers continued to thrust into you as you rode out the waves of intense ecstasy, leaving you a panting mess on the floor, but it was pretty clear by the way he moved around, pale blue mushroom-shaped head of his dick slipping in between your soaked folds, that he wasn’t done with you yet.

“Ready, baby girl?” he murmured softly, gaze flicking up to meet yours, and you nod, swallowing back the lump that had woven its way into the middle of your throat. With a hand on his dick to guide himself, he slid into your “properly prepared” warmth, sinking in until his waist met the backs of your thighs, buried deep inside of you.

He groaned softly as your walls squeezed around him, taking him in eagerly. The feeling of his thick girth, stretching you to delicious lengths, feeling him move inside of you, before dragging it out slowly, you can’t help but whine at the loss as he slid out, your legs wrapping around his hips to pull him back in.

He swatted your thigh sharply, startling you out of your pleasure-filled haze, his golden orbs meeting yours with a warning. In response, you pucker your lip, tears stinging in the corner of your eyes.

“Fine. You wanna be a brat? Then be a brat,” he grunted as he pulled out, flipping you over onto your stomach, face pressed into the woven mat beneath you. He plunged back into you without a warning, sending sparks of electricity through your body, your toes curling as he settled into a fast, sharp pace, pounding you into the ground. You could barely think, could barely make a sound, gasping and crying out as his tip slammed against your g-spot repeatedly, no mercy for your body within sight. Not that you wanted any mercy.

You could already feel the orgasm building up inside of you again, like a coil in your belly, tightening and tensing up, preparing to snap, but then Jake stopped, buried deep inside of your weeping cunt, his hand grabbing your queue and pulling it to force your head up, neck arching uncomfortably.

“No. Wait until after I’ve cummed. You’ve been a naughty girl,” he hissed softly into your ear as he pulled himself closer to your face, forcing himself deeper inside of you. You whine out, frustration building up inside of you. You open your mouth to protest but the words were immediately stolen away as he went back to pounding you into the ground, hand still wrapped tightly around your queue, holding your head back.

His fingers squeezed your ass, digging his nails into the plump skin, before wrapping around the base of your tail, pulling on it as he moved.

You listen, feeling the breath punched out of you with each thrust, as he grunted softly, the snap of his hips against your ass so hard and loud that you’re sure you won’t be able to sit for the next couple days.

You could feel him dragging inside of you, the coil in your heat burning so hot, tightening up so hard that you’re sure you’ll break if you keep denying your own orgasm.

“P-please, d-daddy,” you sob out, pain and pleasure mixing into your body as you struggled against your own desires.

“Please, what?” he grunted, too focused on the way you wrapped around his cock, taking him in so deliciously.

“N-n-need to cum, daddy. Please?”

“No.”

You could feel yourself fall apart at that word, wiggling and struggling underneath him as you do your best to be a good girl for him. He wanted you to be a mess. He wanted you to turn into a moaning, groaning pile beneath his body. And he was getting what he wanted. His hand moved from your ass, sliding down along your hip to dip in, fingers once again falling to your clit. Another jolt of pleasure and he couldn’t stop the moan as you tightened even more around him.

“Fuck, baby girl. I am never missing one of your heats again.”

His rhythm is becoming jostled, erratic, and you know from experience that it was only a matter of time before he hit his own orgasm. So you do your best to help, leaning your hips back to meet his thrusts, cheek pressed to the mat after he’d released his hold on the long braid of your hair.

Jake lets out a soft groan before slamming into you again, both of you cumming at the same time. He moves slowly, riding out his orgasm as your walls squeeze around him, milking him for his cum.

“Jesus. That was… I don’t think we’ve ever had sex this good before,” he grunted softly, pulling out and guiding you down on the mat, curling around you gently, cradling you close.

“You know daddy loves you, right?”

His voice is soft now, just as gentle as the fingers that brush your braided hair out of your face so that he can see you better. You nod, smiling softly at him.

“Yeah. Daddy’s little princess.”

[dark-type-appreciator]

Meeee :3

[adoreeenina]

I wanna be yours - Ch. 12

Relationships: Recom! Miles Quaritch x Sully! Reader x Recom! Lyle Wainfleet

WC: 10.4k

Series Summary: ~~~ 𝗜𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝕋𝕨𝕠 𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕓𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕤 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕝𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕕𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕠𝕗 𝕁𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕊𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕪.

Warning for this chapter: Smut. Oral(f receiving). Loss of virginity. Virginal penetration. First time. Slight cockwarming. Size difference. Talks of mating. Feelings being revealed.

A/N: this is the longest chapter I’ve ever written, so please give me feedback. This is my first time writing something like this so I hope you enjoy and I would love to hear your feedback. Love you and you support and most importantly your patience)

“No! You can’t force me into this!”

“You will be the next Tsahik. It is done” Neytiri informs you. You gawk at both of your parents.

They had inform you will be engaged to be wed to Tarsem. Tarsem is one of the fierce warriors from the clan. He has proved himself many times and you agree he will be perfect to be the next Olo’eyktan. But you didn’t agree to be promised to someone you clearly have no romantic feelings for.

“You can’t do this to me! It’s-“

“Enough! Don’t talk back, Y/n! It’s what’s good for the people” Jake scowls deeply.

Your upper lip twitch, a hiss threatening to spill.

“What about what’s good for me? Have you thought about that?”

Your father sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, “this will be good for you”

“Good for me?! How the hell will this shit be good for me?” Neytiri eyes you warningly, hooking her fingers around your arm to tug you along.

“Hey, lose the attitude before I lose my temper. Where I come from, you’d have that sour face slapped clean off.” Jake warned, earning a sharp glare from your mother.

“Then why don’t you? I know you want to” you coldly remark. Neytiri looked between you and Jake , utterly appalled by what was being said.

“You and Tarsem are engaged to be wed soon. Is this how the future Tsahìk behaves?” Jake says and jabs a finger into your sternum. Neytiri swatted his hand down, hissing at their behavior.

“I never wanted to be Tsahik in the first place!” You shout. Your skin boiling as angry tears fall.

You turn to face your mother, “you were betrothed to Tsu’Tey, were you not?” Jake jaw ticked and your mother seemed taken back by the question.

“Then father came and took you away?”

“Hey!” Jake shouts at defensively, “that’s enough out of you!”

“Or what? You’ll hit me? Fuck you!” You snarl.

“Y/n” Neytiri gasp, she tighten her hand around your bicep, “you forget your place, Ma’daughter”

“Watch your mouth. Or I shut it for ya” Jake growls, “I didn’t raise you to be a fucking brat”

“Ma’Jake”

“Get out of my sight before I lose my temper, young lady” Jake warns you with a look that basically says ‘I dare you to talk back’

“You know what, dad?” You sigh defeatedly.

“What?”

“You protect everyone but you seem to forget to protect the people that’s supposed to mean the most to you” Jake harden gaze slightly falter, but you keep going.

“I’m not a soldier, a comrade, or one of your warriors. I’m your daughter. Someone that needs you. But you can’t even do that. You put others over your own children. You treat us like a squad but we’re your family. You always say ‘I’m a disappointment’ to you and yet you don’t realize how much that hurts to hear from someone who is supposed to be my protector”

Jake and Neytiri watch you with parted lips, Jake holds up a poker face but Neytiri eyes scarce with glossy residue.

“You’re a good Olo’eyktan and husband, dad…” you pause, “But you’re not a good father” with that, you leave, ignoring the way your name is muttered when you do.

Jake watch you scurry off with an emptiness he hadn't felt for a very long time.

You readied the harness on Rawm, attaching your bow and quiver to it before readying your queue for the connection. “Y/N.” You halted at the voice of Spider. She glanced at him, smiling. “Hey.”

Spider jogs up to you and seems to be in a hurry to catch up to you before you leave.

“What is it?”

Spider stops in front of you with his hands on his knees, taking deep breaths like he had run a marathon. Once he finally calmed his breathing, he stands to his full height and looks up at you.

“I heard what happened” that made you sigh frustratingly and look to your left, facing the outside of the cave.

“The word spread fast, huh?” You laugh bitterly.

“I’m worried about you. I know you didn’t take it well being promised to Tarsem” you shrug nonchalantly.

why would it matter? Your father is dead set on having you betrothed to Tarsem without your consent.

“It doesn’t matter what I feel, Spider. I just have to go through with it, whether I like it or not”

Spider bites the inside of his cheek. He knew you better than that, sometimes better than you knew yourself.

“You don’t have to put up a front with me, you know. You’re my sister, I’m always going to be here for you. No matter what” tears prick I’m the corner of your eyes.

You should’ve known better than try to hide how you really feel, Spider could see right through you. You could never lie to him.

“I know, Spider” you whisper, voice cracking, “I hate this. I hate this so much”

You kneel down in your knees in front Spider, and you let him wrap his around your shoulders, trying to comfort you.

“If I were Na’vi maybe we could go and mate right now so you don’t have to mate with Tarsem” Spider jokes lightly. You snort when you pull back and slightly push at his shoulder.

“Don’t be gross” you smile warmly at him. You know about Spider’s insecurities, you know he hates being human and wishes to be a Na’vi like you. But you love him just the way he is and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Spider, you’re more Na’vi than anyone I’ve ever known. Even me. You’ll always be my brother”

“But I’m not-“

“No! You’re mine. Our blood may not be the same, but you’re my family and always will be”

Spider couldn’t look at you feeling a little embarrassed at being vulnerable. You carefully cup his cheek and make him look at you.

“To the sun and the moon and all the stars” you say, Spider smiles up at you and wraps his hand around your wrist.

“Stay true to who you are” he finishes warmly.

"Is all this really necessary?" You ask, running your fingers along the heavy duty guard secured around Miles' ikran. It was made of a similar material to the Recom's vest, so there was no way it was comfortable.

"It's gear. She likes it."

Cupcake let out a weak screech in disagreement, obviously not liking it. Ikran were meant to have light and form fitting saddles, not pounds of kevlar and gear. You roll your eyes, but smiled when Cupcake nudged at your side, wanting attention and sympathy.

"Seems she likes you too." Miles spares you a glance as he continued to load the side bags with ammo, food, two spare respirators for Spider, and everything else they'd need. Since they now had regular transportation, the Recoms were going to start longer recon missions in the field as they no longer needed to check back into Bridgehead as often.

"Ikran usually aren’t affectionate with anyone other than their bonded Na’vi."

"Well, I do like when you're all lovey dovey with me. Rubbin' off on her like you do me." You easily caught Miles' obvious attempt at a flirtation as you continue tracing the pattern of Cupcakes face.

“If I’m not mistaken. It was you rubbin’ off on me, Colonel” you say, switching your gaze from the ikran to Miles. His back was turned to you , but looks back with an amused grin.

“We headin’ out, boss?” Your spine stiffens hearing Lyle not that far behind you.

You didn’t know how to proceed after that make out session back at their room. You know you’re making it awkward but this was a dangerous territory for you. One is the reason you have a bullet wound on your side and the other is the reason why you’re here and forced to teach them.

You’ve tried to create distance between the two of you. But it’s been hard when you’re near each other 24/7.

“Yeah, get the squad ready”

“Yes, sir” you glance over your shoulder, intending to just to take a peek but Lyle’s eyes are already trained on you.

“You ready, darlin’?” Miles question was enough for Lyle to tear his gaze away from you and move along to his own Ikran.

Switching your gaze from Lyle to Miles. You nod.

“Am I allowed to ride on my own?” You ask.

Miles eyes you with his hands on his hips.

“I won’t fly away if that’s what you’re worried about” you respond, annoyed that he would even think that.

“It’s not like I could” Then you clutched the collar on your neck and jingled it loudly in front Miles.

Miles kisses his teeth with a hard glare towards the collar before looking down at his watch, trying to distract himself.

“Fine, darlin’. I’m putting my trust in you” he points at you with a warning look in his eye.

“Yes Colonel” you smile bright making smiles gaze soften for a moment.

You turn to jog toward the edge of the docks . You yip, summoning Rawm.

Cupcake's jaw dropped slightly as if the animal was excited to hear the noise; the other ikrans around did the same as their heads perked to attention.

Rawm, who soon appeared in front of you. You coo at the Ikran, holding the red and black plate that protruded from the underside of Rawm’s jaw as you stroke her.

“Can I go with you?” You turn to smile down at Spider who is standing close to you, he pats Rawm who chitters at the new affection.

“Is it okay with the Colonel?” You ask before glancing up at Miles, who is busy talking with Lopez and Z-dog.

“I think so” Spider shrugs. You raise an eyebrow at Spider who grin’s sheepishly at you. You couldn’t fight back a smile.

“Fine” you respond. Spider fist bumps the air before climbing on Rawm. You turn towards the Colonel’s directions, cupping your hands around your mouth.

“We’re ready when you are, Colonel” you shout, you heave yourself onto Rawm’s back, with Spider in front of you, you reach behind you to grab your kuru and slid the tendrils of her queue into Rawm’s.

“Why do I have to fly with you?” You complain for the third time, leaning back against Miles.

Your height difference was perfect - your temple pressed right into the juncture of his shoulder. If he turned even slightly, his lips were at your hair line. Not that he'd thought about it once or twice. Maybe more but that’s besides the point.

“I already told you…” He leaned down to your level, ears pinned back in irritation, “after that stunt you pulled I can’t trust you on your own”

“I said I was sorry..” You mumble, refusing to look at him, actually feeling guilty.

You and Spider thought it would be funny to cut few of the recoms off as a prank, but you didn’t think it through when Rawm pushed Prager off his own Ikran. But it was an accident you swear.

“I promise I won’t do it again” ears pinning to the side of your head, you turn to look up at him with doe eyes.

Miles grins smugly before leaning down close to your ear - so close that you could feel the ghost of his lips on your ear, making you shudder.

“I know you won’t, babygirl” he whispers, lips brushing against your ear. One of his hands sliding up your thigh and fingering at the strap on your hips of your loincloth.

Your breath catches and your eyes widen as your thighs try to squeeze together, combating the rush of arousal that Miles words send straight to your core.

What the hell is wrong with you?

“You’re going to behave, sweetheart? Will you be a good girl for me from now on?” He ask.

“Y-yes” you stammer.

“Yes what?” He taunts.

“Yes sir” Miles pulls his hand away with a pat on your thigh before placing both his hands on your hips.

Damn you, you cocky prick.

After a few moments you couldn’t handle the silence much longer and having Miles hands on you like this.

“Where are we going? Are we there yet?” You ask with bored tone.

“You’ll see, darlin’” he assures.

You lean forward, trying to peer between Cupcake’s neck and wing to survey the terrain a little closer. Miles cursed and tightened his hold on your hips, pulling you farther back along the ikran's neck, as he imagined you slipping off and plummeting into the trees below. He tried not to look down at your bent over form - your ass was almost on full display and pressed into his crotch. Mental images of your bent over for him in other circumstances flooded his mind.

Your hair wasn't pulled back - only the front pieces were pulled back with your hand carved bone pin.

You groan annoyed when your hair wraps around your own face, and pulls it across one shoulder. With the hair secured down, your entire back was exposed.

Over the past few days, Miles and the other had grown used to the amount of skin your outfit reveals, especially the top - which had little coverage across your back. Besides a few cords that secured the front panel down, there was nothing across your entire back. Miles' eyes were drawn your back being littered with scars, some bad, some old.

It was an antagonizing half an hour before Miles finally ordered everyone to land. His blood was pooled at one spot of his body and it certainly wasn't his head.

The moment you touched down, Miles didn't have to worry about the warmth emitting from your body as you slid off the ikran, not even bothering to wait for him to disconnect the bond.

You look around the forest with a large river with a waterfall close by. You turn to look at Miles confused.

Why are we here?

“We’ve been flying a lot longer than we thought. We should camp out here for the night” Miles informs the squad.

They all excitedly start unpacking when Spider walks to your side and you both watch silently.

You notice a familiar ball of fiber in Miles hands. Your eyebrows raise in surprise.

“You kept it?” Miles turn to look at you before looking down at the hammock in his hands.

“It’s useful” Miles shrugs. You admire him, you didn’t think they would have kept it, you assumed he would have thrown them away.

“Hey mami!” You turn away from Miles to Lopez.

“Want to hunt with us?” Lopez points behind him at Ja and Mansk. You glance at Miles and Lyle. Miles seems to be looking at you in the corner of his eye. Lyle shamelessly looking at you as he unpacks.

You turn to look down at Spider. “You’ll be okay on your own?”

Spider smiles at you assuredly, “yeah go ahead, I miss the food from here anyway”

“Okay, I’ll be back soon” you smile before turning and following Lopez to the river.

As the day grew into night, the Recoms had settled around camp. Lopez and Mansk managed to catch two big fish from the river and Spider wanted to show off to the Recoms by demonstrating his cooking skills to everyone over the fire Mansk has built. The dish lacked a few key elements, but it was much better than any type of MRE the RDA had to offer and they couldn't survive on fruit forever.

“So Y/n” Z-dog says out loud which caught everyone’s attention, “I’ve been meaning to ask” she gestures at her own body before pointing yours, “how did you get those?”

“You mean my scars?” You ask with a raise brow. Z-dog nods. You sigh.

“I’m known being a trouble maker back at home. I always end up getting myself into situations that ends me getting hurt” you shrug.

You jerk back when you felt fingers trace over your back, and turn to whoever it was with a defensive hiss with your ears pinned back.

“Sorry” Lopez throws his hands up apologetically. You nodded for him to continue, your eyes squeezing shut as you inhaled a deep breath.

“I remember the ones on your back were fresh when we first took you. How did you get those?” Your ears peek at the question and you met the ember eyes of the man who had his lips on yours 2 days ago.

“I got them from the train tracks” you admit. Miles frown at the information you have given.

“Train tracks” Miles whispers under his breath until realization dawns on him and turns to look at you, “you were there when Sully hit the mag train”

“Yeah, I was too close when one of your Gunships starts launching missiles at us”

“What the hell were you doing there?” Miles growls, surprising himself from his reaction.

“Cause of Lo’ak” responds Spider. Catching Miles attention.

“Who?”

“Lo’ak. My younger brother. The one you had at knifepoint back at the shack” at the reminder, Miles looks down at his hands, trying to force down the guilt he’s been feeling.

“The one that flipped me off” Miles snorts. Yeah there’s no mistake Sully is the father of the kid. He got guts, he can respect that.

“Lo’ak is much of a trouble maker than I am. He wanted to be near the raid when we were supposed to be the look out. He went against order. I followed him. That’s when it happened” you mindlessly roll the beads of your songcord in between your thumb and forefinger, “We ran to get away, a missile was launched straight towards us, I didn’t have time to think, So I pushed him out of the way and I got hit instead. I got pretty banged up and got scolded for it” you roll your eyes when the memory of your father scolding you flashes in your mind.

“You’re the oldest?” Ask Ja.

Since you’ve been with them, they never really ask anything personal, it’s not because they didn’t want to more because they didn’t want to tick you off, afraid they’ll set you off at the time.

“Yeah I’m the oldest of five children”

“Five?” Shouts Lopez, you jump back in surprise by Lopez reaction.

“Lopez!” Scolds Miles.

“Sorry sorry” Lopez waves Miles off making him roll his eyes at him, “Damn, imagine still being with the same woman for that long, have that many kids and still love them”

You look at Lopez confused, what did he mean by that? Are humans rituals different?

“Na’vi mate for life” Spider says. That catches everyone attention.

“Life?” Ask Prager.

“Like I said before. Tsaheylu. The bond, is one of the most important thing a Na’vi can have access to when wanting to connect with the world and nature around us. and that includes each other” you watch as each of them look at each other before grabbing onto their own kuru.

You heard giggling on your left side and see Lopez and Prager jokingly push each others queues a little to close and pull them back when the tendrils slightly graze each other

“Hey!” You slap the back of Lopez head and pull on his ear, making him wince in pain.

Everyone watches you in amusement, fighting back grins, a few looks at Miles to see if he’ll stop you but surprisingly they see him smiling fondly at you and let you torture Lopez.

“Shit!” He winced, “ow, ow, ow, okay okay, I’m sorry”

“You yet to understand how deep and sacred a bond is, Skxáwng. you won’t be able to look at anyone else, you’ll be obsessed” you finally let go of his ear.

Lopez pouts as he touches the back of his ear and tries to soothe it. You look over at Prager who quickly covers his ears to avoid getting his ears pulled next.

“Once you make Tsaheylu, Muntxa si is connection to you, them, Eywa and no one else! It is honouring and making new life. You will not be able to mate with another both spiritually and physically”

The recoms listen tentatively, they don’t know much about the Na’vi culture or their traditions. They didn’t think the Na’vi mate for life, or they didn’t think much of them at all to bother learning their ways, until now that is when you came along.

“What would happen if they accidentally connected their braids? You’re saying they’ll be mates for life?” Jokes Ja, making a few chuckle, you frown at their childishness.

“Yes” that made them shut up real fast, they look at you with wide eyes,"You mate and once the bond is complete, it is a bond for life. It is a connection unlike any other. Once you share the deepest, most intimate part of yourself there is no going back. No action or amount of distance could manage to break the bond, only death."

Ja nudges your shoulders with a snicker, "so, you gettin' down and dirty with anyone before you mate?” The word felt foreign on his tongue as he ask the question.

“No” you respond with an eyeroll.

“You don’t fool around with anyone before mating? You know, have a taste of anyone else?” Ask Z-dog.

"Your culture is very strange. The Na’vi do not mate until they find the one, that what makes Tsaheylu very special for mated pairs” you wish to have that intimate experience with the one you choose for the rest of your life but sadly you won’t experience that instead you’ll be mated to someone you have no feelings for.

“And you’ll mate with this Tarter guy?” Lyle waves his hand. You deadpan at him, you know he’s saying Tarsem’s name wrong on purpose.

“Yes. My father made arrangements for me to be mated to Tarsem”

“Arrangement? Wait a minute,” Miles holds out a hand towards you, he pauses as he tries to process what you said, “you’re telling me you’re having an arrange marriage? What are we in the 1800’s?” He laughs in disbelief. He thought you were possibly in love with the guy to want to mate with him. He never thought Sully would be the type to force his daughter to be with someone.

You look at Miles confusingly, you don’t understand the human innuendo.

“Arranged marriages are quite common in our culture, more for the future Tsahik and Olo’eyktan” you respond.

“Atleast Jake didn’t make you have a third. Remember he almost wanted to wed you to Nanti” Spider shifts in his seat next to you before looking at you.

The memory of Nanti makes you roll your eyes, of course you remember. How can you not? Your father thought it would be good to have two Tsahik and one Olo’eyktan in the clan. Originally he wanted you and Nanti together and added Tarsem but you and Nanti didn’t get along. She was too controlling and jealous. You were glad your father ended the arrangement with Nanti.

“That a Na’vi thing, darlin’? Takin’ on a third?” Miles ask.

“Wait a sec… Polyamorous is a thing here?” Ask Ja in surprise.

“Polyamorous is unheard of but it’s uncommon. It’s rare but it could happen. But it’s best if they mate together” you explain. The recoms look at you confused. This was new and interesting information. They’ve never heard the Na’vi could have more than one mate.

“What do you mean?” Ask Z-dog

“They’ll have to mate at the same time. Two cannot mate then mate with the third or the fourth. That’s misplacing and disrespecting them in the mating ritual” you explain. You watch as the faces of recoms go deep in thought.

Everyone was listening intently at this point. After all, their job was to learn, absorb, and apply knowledge regarding the Na'vi to fulfill their mission. The Recoms were silent, processing the information. Rather than seeing how these mating bonds are the ultimate form of weakness within the Na'vi community, most of them became envious of the utter devotion mates have for eachother.

You didn’t realize how little they really know about the Na’vi, you might have taught them your ways but only the basics, not the culture or traditions.

“Soooo…” Lopez drags out, sparing a glance at Miles and Lyle, “what I’m hearing is you’re a virgin”

You gasps dramatically, eyes widening in disbelief at his giggling face. You hit Lopez shoulder with the back of your hand, “that is none of your business, Lopez!”

Lopez grins as he holds your wrist to avoid being slapped by you again, “I’m not hearing a no” he cheekily responds.

“Gah” you sneer when you pull your wrist out of his grip, Lopez laughs heartily, the corner of your mouth twitching. You know Lopez is just teasing you.

You move to stand up and dust yourself off, you were already walking away when Miles calls for you, “where you going?”

You pause half in the darkness “I’m going to the river to wash up. Do I need your permission to do so, Colonel” you sass. Miles grins as he licks his canines.

“Don’t be a brat” he lightly scolds you “you’re not going alone” he nods towards Lyle, “Lyle go with her”

You cross your arms over your chest, “I’m not going to make a run for it” you snarl. Miles outstretch his arm towards you a way to tell you to calm down, he means no harm.

“That’s not why, darlin’, it’s dark out. It’s for your safety, there could be predators out there” Your harden gaze soften at that, maybe you had reacted a little to fast.

You turn your gaze to Lyle who is already making his way towards you. You don’t know how to feel being alone with him again after what happened last time, you’ve been ignoring him for the past 2 days.

“C’mon baby, let’s go” Lyle places his hand on your lower back and gently pushes you forward.

The walk to the river is awkwardly silent. You’re lost in your thoughts, Meanwhile, Lyle ambles along at your side, matching your pace perfectly. He’s equally as quiet, but he keeps darting looks at you out of the corner of his eyes. Lyle is many things, but he’s never been subtle as long as you’ve known him.

By the time you reach the river, hardly a word has been shared between the two of you. Lyle stops mid step as he watches you kneel down near the river.

Lyle has started tapping his fingers against his thigh, and the frequency of his glances have increased yet again. He clears his throat, and finally speaks up.

“You’ve been ignoring me”

Your ears perk up at attention to his direction, you look over you shoulder, making eye contact with Lyle, you see the saddening and the longing look in his eye, it almost made you feel guilty. You didn’t think it would affect him this much.

“I wasn’t” you deny before going back to washing your hands, splashing water on your arms.

Lyle bitterly lets out a chuckle, shaking his head, “you’re lying to me now?”

You ignore him and don’t bother to respond and he doesn’t like that, not one bit.

“It’s because of what I am, isn’t it?” Hearing the clear insecurity in his voice, you turn your body sideways to look at him.

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb, Y/n” his tone getting a little more aggressive. You were taken back by his tone. Not once has he ever raised his voice at you.

Hearing your name coming from his mouth sounds foreign to you, this is the second time he said your name but this time it sounds like it hurts him to say it.

“Is it cause I’m a sky demon? Is that it? I’m not good enough for you?” He says, the bitterness in his tone is very apparent.

“No! That’s not it at all! How can you think that?” You practically beg. You stand up abruptly and take a cautious step towards him

“How can I not? You’ve been ignoring me like I have some kind of disease or something” he practically shouts.

You could feel yourself cowering back. You can’t do this right now. This was a mistake, something that shouldn’t have happened.

“It shouldn’t have happened. It was a mistake” you drop your gaze, mentally berating yourself.

“Mistake?” Lyle lets out a breath of disbelief and turns away from you, “You can’t honestly tell me you didn’t feel anything”

You pick up your head and see the pain in his eyes, more apparent than ever.

“Lyle,I can’t do this right now” you shake your head, you move your legs to attempt to walk around him but he instantly grabs you by your arm and pushes your back roughly into the closet tree.

You look up at Lyle with wide eyes. He has that crazed and determined look clear on his face.

You attempt to pull yourself away but his arm was like a cage around you, unbudging. Your eyes looked up at his begging to be released.

He let you go after a few more moments of you struggling. Letting his hands fall on your hips, he gently strokes your hip with his thumb, his way of apologizing for being a little too rough with you.

“Something changed between us, and I know you can feel it too” Lyle says, after a few seconds of neither of you speaking.

“No. Lyle, please don’t” you practically beg, pushing at his chest to let you go.

“Why? Cause you’re afraid to admit your feelings?” He presses on.

“It’s not that simple” you can feel anger boiling inside of you. Tears coming down your face as you shake your head.

“It is that simple” your hands starts pushing and hitting at his chest.

“No it’s not!” You shout at him, Lyle grabs onto your wrist to stop you from hitting him.

“Why not? Tell me!” He shouts, the anguish in his voice hurting you even more, all the while he struggles to hold you in place.

“The whole point I’m even here is for you to hunt down my father!” you cry out as you manage to pull your arms out of his grip, “it’s wrong of me to fall for my father’s enemies”

“I stop giving a shit about Sully a long time ago!” Lyle says, anger seeps through, almost like he wants you to understand.

“Why are you doing this to me? Is this some sick game you’re trying to pull on me?” You sob. No, you can’t let anything come of this. This is wrong.

“For fucks sake Y/n” he breathes out, clearly frustrated with you, “I’m trying to tell you I’m falling in love with you”

“No.” You shake your head, not wanting to believe Lyle could feel that way about you.

“Baby…” Lyle whispers as he tries to reach for you but your mind is completely lost.

“You’re not capable of such things” you cry out, pushing his hands away from you.

Lyle uses both hands to cup your face and forces you to look up at him, his gaze softening seeing the tears slide down your cheeks, with his thumb he wipes them away.

“I am capable of anything for you, never doubt the power you have over me” he whispers to you before leaning his forehead on yours, “I would leave everything for you”

Your hands planted softly on his face, pressing your forehead against his. He bumped his nose with yours, taking one of your wrists and mouthing your erratic pulse tenderly.

“You don’t know what you’re saying” you timidly pressed your palm against Lyle’s chest. You pushed him back with all the strength you could muster, eyes blown wide as he stared down at you.

“I know exactly what I’m saying, I only felt this way about one other person, and I never told them. I’m not making that same mistake with you” he responds, moving his hands to your hips. Not once taking his eyes off you.

“There is no woman out there quite like you. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on. When I think about you, try to describe what comes to mind, I’m left speechless. No matter what I say I don’t think there’s words that could ever describe the way you laugh and how your smile lights up a room that makes me feel alive. You are a breath of fresh air, pure, honest, and loveable air.” The way he says it sounds so poetic, it makes your heart flutter. Feeling flustered, you looked away to avoid Lyle’s gaze.

“Baby, look at me.” He cups your jaw to make you look at him, “If you don’t feel the same, tell me. Look me in the eyes and tell me” He whispers, not being subtle when his eyes darted down to your mouth, watching your teeth bite into your bottom lip.

“Please, baby. I have to hear you say it” he begs in his raspy voice.

“I can’t”

“Why not?” he breaths out.

“Cause I’m falling for you as well” you finally admit. Lyle sighs in relief.

Bringing one arm up to your chin, he lifts you face more to him, leaning forward to softly kiss your lips.  His face stays too close to yours, but nothing touches.  “Lyle?”

“Yes, baby?” with every syllable you feel his lips push up against yours, and you want him closer to you.

“Kiss me again. Please.”  Lyle’s hand glides around your neck, the hand on your hips pull you even closer to him until every part of your front is touching him.  His lips crash into yours.  Peppering kisses onto you until he stills, his tongue tickles around your lips, and you open your mouth, granting him access. Lyle took the opportunity to press his tongue into your mouth, exploring your taste and groaning at your willingness to accept the intrusion.

Needing to feel even closer to him, you move to wrap your arms around his neck, stroking your fingers on the back of his head.  Sliding his hands down your body, he cups your nearly bare ass, lifting you up to him.  At the feeling of his tented pants, you mewl.  “Oh baby, we’ve barely even got started,” the deepness of his voice makes you choke up, unaware of how with just the sound of a voice could make heat pool in your belly.

His mouth left your lips to explore the rest of your face. He began by leaving open mouth kisses along the sides of your face before nipping at the base of your ears. The sensation had your movements momentarily pause as your own pleasure took precedence. "Lyle..."

You could feel the lust pooling in your stomach and quickly migrating downward. You may not have been mated, but you knew what it felt like to touch herself. The touch of another was foreign, but that familiar feeling was mounting even without direct stimulation.

Lyle bit at the base of your neck before licking over the reddened area. He didn't break skin, but if he used any more power he would've easily drawn blood. The sensation of his teeth dragging over your neck satisfied something primal within both. Your head lulled to the side to give him more access - a clear display of trust and want.

He mentally curses at the colt around your neck, disturbing him to claim you even more.

After allowing Lyle to continue for a minute, you pull back as his mouth chased after your skin. Your eyes were blown wide with lust, glimmering as the night light of the forest danced along your skin, deepening the shadows of your features. A glistening trail of saliva covered the entire right side of your neck, running from your collar one to your ear as light bruising was intermittently laid out. The sight had Lyles' pants reach a level of uncomfortable tightness. Your free hand pulled at his vest, despising the gear from keeping his chest out of reach.

Once he was within reach, you returned his favor from earlier, tentatively pressing a soft kiss to the base of his jaw before growing bolder and left sloppy, wet kisses up and down the base of his neck. Lyle groans - how could someone so sweet do this? His hand released your neck and found purchase on your waist, kneading and squeezing at the soft flesh. With the newfound range of motion, you were able to reach up and bite at the base of his ears as well. Lyles' knees nearly buckled at the sensation - the way his fingers tightened around your waist was going to leave fingerprints for a day or two.

"Fuck, baby."

Both of your pupils were blown wide - a side effect of the dim lighting and the lust building in each of your systems. Before Lyle made a move to further your little dance, he hastily unlatched his vest as the material suddenly became constricting.

You smiled before Lyle slowly lower you down onto the ground, his knees in between your legs, keeping your thighs spread, ready to ravage you for all you’re worth. He wasn't going to stop till you were shaking on the ground from too much. He needed you as much as you needed him.

Your hair splayed out beneath you - you looked like the sun. Bright and warm. An essential part of life - you were an essential to his life now.

“Baby, I can’t have you passing out on me,” Lyle’s fingers untie your top, pulling it aside to get a full view of your breasts.  Cupping and fondling them until his mouth sucks on each nipple.  His tongue circling around until they’re hard and pebbled.  His eyes roll up to look at you, but his lips still trail down your body, and you’re overwhelmed by every touch.

Lyle smirks as he slowly traveled down your torso, pressing a sloppy wet kiss at the base of your sternum, “You drive me crazy, baby."

His lips kiss at your stomach, leaving a trail of saliva as he licked up the sweat that collected earlier in the day. You shiver as the moisture cooled instantly in the cool of the night. Lyle pause at the base of your naval before hovering there to glance up at the writhing woman who begged for him to return. Your hands found their way to the back of his head, trying to push it against you but he resisted the temptation to continue teasing you.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, baby”

You could barely form the words, your rebuttal coming out as breathy pleas for his touch, "please, Lyle, I need more."

Lyle nipps at your freshly exposed hip bone, “don't you worry - I'm going to take care of you."

You try to help as Lyle slips the rest of the fabric down your legs. Once rid of your loincloth, Lyle travels back up your legs, beginning at your ankles. Light touches and soft kisses were a juxtaposition to the harsh squeezing and bites as he passed over your knees. As he grew closer to the apex of your thighs, he could smell your arousal. You shifted against the ground in attempts to entice him into doing what you wanted, but there was no need for that. Lyle felt like he was already drunk off your pussy without experiencing it yet.

He inhaled sharply and peeled his gloves off, before throwing them aside.

The way your entire body twitches in excitement as he trailed his index finger along the inside of her thigh. The way your head would roll back and your back arched slightly off the ground, making the dark bruises around the base of your throat more apparent. He loved it all.

You whimper, slightly grinding into Lyles' hand, "Lyle, please."

"Gotta stretch you out first, baby, can't go hurtin' you," Lyle kiss your clavicle, feeling your heart racing in your chest. His voice trailed off, "wouldn't forgive myself."

Holding eye contact, Lyle ran a single finger up the length of your slit before slowly pressing inside, meeting little resistance as your slick eased the entry. He remained slow, especially as your face twinged in mild discomfort as one of his fingers was the thickness of two of your own. Lyle took your pleasurable whimper to continue, beginning to pump the single finger before adding another once your face relaxed.

"Shhh," Lyle hushes you, his large arms curl around your upper thighs and you were sharply yanked down towards him, "I want to taste you. If you'll let me."

Your eyes widen in desire as Lyle starts placing small kisses on your stomach, caressing the soft, rounded curves of your body with his tongue until he's between your legs, staring up at you ravenously.

He lets out a content sigh bathed in lust as he kisses the inside of your thigh, reigniting that fire his fingers had stoked. He kisses up the inside of your leg, closer and closer. So close you can feel the warmth of his breath on your aching pussy.

Lyle’s ember eyes meet yours for a moment, then they're gone, and you let out a moan of indescribable pleasure as Lyle’s warm tongue meets the heat of your pussy, sliding between its folds as he buries his nose against your clit.

Parted your lips the only thing that was released was a guttural groan when a warm mouth enveloped your throbbing clit.

"Lyle!" you whine.

Lyle licks and kisses your folds, occasionally letting his tongue dive between your slick folds to lap at the wetness there.

"Mmm, God Y/n you're so sweet," Lyle moans, using his teeth to gently take your clit between his lips. Your back arches in response and you let out a cry of pleasure as his tongue dances across the sensitive nerves, sending rivets of white-hot pleasure up your back, causing your vision to blur.

Jerking your hips and grinding it slightly, your hands flung forward to grasp Lyle’s wrists. You can feel Lyle smile against your heat, and your grip around his wrist tightens as his tongue dips deeply into your core, plunging into your entrance for the first time and wasted no time exploring.

Your hips spasm as you thrust against the feeling of his hot, slick tongue inside you - your walls squeezing tightly as your back arches.

"H-Hey, ah~!" Your breath was caught in your throat when his thick appendage purposefully grazed over both the shallow and deep sensorial spots inside of your walls.

Your grip on his wrists tightens as you tugged him harder - closer - against your cunt. Lyle let out a soft shaky whine and the hold he has on your thighs was almost unbearably tight.

"Mmmm," Lyle moans, his hands finding your hips as he pulls you even deeper onto his tongue.

"Fuck, Lyle, please," you beg. "I-....I need more," you plead.

Lyle obeys, and your eyes roll back as his cheeks hollow. He sucks and laps at your slick arousal, groaning in pleasure as he sends vibrations through your entire body - drinking from you as if desperate.

Your eyes clench shut as the pressure of Lyle’s tongue penetrating into you had your stomach fluttering. Your toes curled, thighs fighting to be released from his tight hold that was around your thighs.

His tongue reaches all the way down inside of you and tenderly stroked the soft entrance to your womb. You had never felt such a sensation, no this was something else - foreign.

Your stomach tightened and the muscles in your legs flexed. The overstimulation was begging to become overwhelming and you wanted him to stop so you could catch your breath.

However, Lyle did the exact opposite. He pulls away his tongue to swallow the juices he had accumulated before driving it inside deeply and basically stealing your natural lubrication.

The tugging on his wrists only grew harsher the more the ache in your belly grew. Lyle growls in such a low wavelength you almost wouldn't have heard it if it were not for the moan stuck in your throat.

Cool sweat coated your skin while your hair stuck to your jaw and the back of your neck.

Lyle’s tongue was like heaven with the way passion jolted and spread up your abdomen and legs. You were consumed in a hazy lust, entrapped in intense eros that had your tongue lying heavy in your mouth.

Drool dribbled down the corner of your lips and slid down the sides of your jaw. Your eyes were practically rolled into the back of your head as you ground against his face.

The sharp pointed edge of Lyle’s teeth lightly grazed over your clit that was beating like a nervous heart.

It instigated this feeling in your lower abdomen, it was a pulsating sensation that was growing stronger by the second, alerting you of your nearing climax.

Your throat was dry, your neck muscles ached from the strain, and you felt fatigued. It was already such a long and hard day that the slightest bit of energy you possessed was being seeped out of you.

With the nearing of your climax, your spine had a small divet in it that was arching off the ground. Your legs that were still forced into the mating press jolted and twitched in Lyle’s massive hands.

Lyle suddenly hums and graze his sharp teeth over your clit while his tongue inside of you still wiggled about.

Your hips bucked against his face. You were so close.

The feelings you were experiencing were unspeakable. All you knew was that everything just felt so good but so overstimulated.

You were approaching a beautiful release, right at the edge of the cliff where you'd plunge into a reservoir of dazing fulfillment.

And when Lyle forces your hips to grind against his face, your org*sm collided against your nerves and flushed all through your body, surging through your bloodstream while pounding your head with white bliss.

"N-Ngh, ah~!" You cry louder than you should have, bellowing out within the forest that you were sure anyone close by could hear.

Your stomach contracted, and the abdominal muscles were tight from how much you sucked in your gut. You clenched as tightly as you could, squeezing down on Lyle’s tongue.

You let out a loud gasp as Lyle slides two fingers inside you beneath his tongue, pumping them in and out as he never stop sucking and licking sending you into a dizzying spiral of sensations.

“Lyle” you cry out, your hand fisting his wrists as your hips thrust against his tongue. You throw your head back in ecstasy, bringing your other hand to your mouth to muffle your scream of pleasure as you release on Lyle's face, twitching and spasming as Lyle eats out your orgasm, his lips never leaving your sensitive folds.

You could feel that familiar build deep with your stomach. In the few times you experimented and touched yourself before, it had never felt like this - never this good or building this quickly.

With your spine arching from your climax, you lay your head back against the grass floor with your lips parted.

Unadulterated euphoria that displayed on your face was something that you would have been embarrassed to ever show anyone, but at the moment you didn't give a damn.

You were blundering mess from his tongue. Literally, you were seeing stars with your eyes that were still rolled into the back of your head.

If Lyle could have you like this just with his mouth, who's to say what you would become if he used anything else.

As you basked in your afterglow, Lyle devours the liquids of your climax, greedily consuming your essence as if it was the air he needed to breathe.

You pant, gently pulling on his wrists to bring him back up your body. But Lyle gives you two more stubborn sucks, causing you to jerk and shudder beneath him. It had you shaking profoundly underneath him, fidgeting from your oversensitivity.

You glance down at Lyle, holding his eye contact as he made his way back up. He was much slower on the return, nipping and biting at certain patches of skin, as he crawls up your naked body, placing wet kisses all over your skin along the way until he reaches your neck. But you turn your head at the last moment, catching his lips with yours as Lyle hums in surprise.

As you pull back, you admire how your juices linger his face, his entire lower face still covered in your arousal. And you feel a small, heated flutter between your legs once more.

Lyle reaches behind your head and gently caress his fingers over your kuru, making you shiver in anticipation. “Don’t” you whisper.

Lyle instantly removes his hand, respecting your wishes and boundaries.

Lyle grabs you by the hips, pulling you closer against him. Your weeping cunt pressed against his own hardened member, trapped under layers of clothing.

He stands up leaning back on his knees, he untucks his shirt from his belt and peels the shirt off his skin. Your eyes can’t decide where it wants to look at, constantly changing locations on Lyle’s muscular body.  Discarding the shirt before unbuttoning his pants, smirking at you nearly drooling over him.  Watching intently when he removes his boxers, his cock finally on full display and you gasp.  “It’s okay, baby, you can handle it.”  With the size of him, you’re not sure.  Your body trembles as he kneels down between your spread legs.

“H-hold on,” you tell him breathless.  Lyle stops his movement.  Adjusting himself to hover over your body.  Resting himself on his forearms his face is right at yours.

“You, okay?”

Lyle still lingers over you.  His golden ember eyes soft as he watches your face.  “Baby, we can stop.”

“No! I don’t want to stop. Please don’t stop” you say breathlessly.

Balancing his weight on one arm, Lyle bent over your torso to move closer to your head. Your eyes were entranced by his every move - his single arm wasn't straining in the slightest, even though he was balancing hundreds of pounds of muscle on the single limb.

Once close enough, Lyle hums again, nudging his nose against your cheek to move your head as he wish. You completed instantly.

“Jesus Christ, baby. You’ll be the death of me." he gives a soft kiss on your lips in which you hum, eyes fluttering shut. he wraps his hand around his cock, pumping it a few times before guiding it to your wet entrance while putting his other palm beside your head to support his weight. He rubs his tip along your little bundle of nerves before slapping his cock against you.  The quick jolts of your body has him even more excited.

You bite down on your lower lip trying to suppress a moan when he slides the tip up and down your cunt. mumbling a low ‘fuck’ at the slicky sound of your wet cunt. another loud groan rumbles off his chest when his cock slips in. Lyle stays still for a while before he sits up straight, hooking his hands underneath your knees, telling you to wrap your legs around his waist.

“I’m gonna go slow, okay?” you nod, holding tightly onto his biceps.  Sliding his tip through your walls, you freeze, body stiff, as tears sting your eyes.  “Relax,” his voice grunts out.  You try, you really do, but your body is just tense.  Feeling every centimeter of his cock while it slowly slides in.

The tears escape your eyes with the pain of his girth stretching you out.  “I’m sorry, baby.  You can take it.  I’m only halfway.”

“Lyle,” you whimper.  You wince a little, wriggling uncomfortably as Lyle pushes further in. 

“It’s okay,” he reassures you gently.

“It hurts.” 

“I know, baby,” he kisses you again, deep and slow, “it’s gonna a little, but you’re doin’ so well. Almost there. Just relax.” 

At that, he snakes a hand between you, using his thumb to slowly massage your clit, still tingly from your orgasm. Everything instantly loosens inside you and he slips the rest of the way in with a stifled moan. 

“Oh good girl,” he emphasizes, placing another kiss to your lips. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah, m’just… full.”

Removing his hand from your clit, while holding his position, he kisses away your tears.  “Such a good girl for me.  You’re doing so well baby”

His girth was the hardest to overcome, stretching you further than you’d ever been able to achieve on your own. There was a dull ache in your pelvis as he finally settled in.

Unknowingly, your vaginal muscles tensed as he pressed forward to the hilt, “fuck."

He was finally close enough that you could kiss him, trying to distract yourself from the ebbing pain as you grew accustomed to his length. He was more than happy to comply, but paused to suck in a breath each time your walls squeezed around him.

“Breathe, baby. Relax for me.” Lyle gently encourages you as he pulls away from your lips and on command, you take in a big gulp of air. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight. you feel incredible.”

You blink back tears as you focus on your breathing, a shaky exhale of air that escapes your heaving chest while you are slowly split open by his heavy cock. It’s moderately painful, the way the foreign object coaxes your tight walls into expanding around it, unmistakably different from the accustomed stretch of his thick fingers, but with it a warm and inviting sense of unfamiliar pleasure lies just within your grasp.

“Good girl. You’re doing so well.” He praises with heavy pants. His fingers digging into your quivering thighs are sharp, almost possessive in nature as he lays claim to your body, molding your virgin cunt into a perfect home for his thick cock. His advice serves as a reminder to both you and himself as you squeeze unforgivingly tight around him. “Just relax, baby.”

Lyle huffs, his grip leaving your thighs to tangle with your fingers against the grass, dropping his head to lay in the crook of your neck while he remains snug within you. You can feel him twitching inside of you, so unfathomably deep you’re sure he’s greeting your insides, you can only spasm in consequence as he kisses along your hypersensitive skin.

“You look beautiful like this. So full of me. Does it feel good, baby?”

You nod weakly as you whimper out incomprehensible sweet nothings.

“Shh, shh.” His thumb brushes gently along your cheek as he observes your disheveled state. The unabashed, unwavering amount of love, trust, and desire he finds pooling in your teary eyes leaves him breathless as he silently vows to care for you the rest of his days. To leave you rightfully worshipped and satisfied as he makes love to you for the first time, and surely not the last.

“Ready for me, baby?” Lyle softly whispers.

“please move.” You nod, he retreats slowly. You feel weird as he slips out, like your pussy needs him back. When he slides back in, it’s a little easier, but there is still some resistance the further he gets.

As he fills you all the way, you feel the weight of his pelvis. It’s a strange sensation, but one you already sort of enjoy, and you begin to anticipate it.

Lyle repeats the process ten more times, speeding up a little with each thrust, and you can feel yourself relaxing more and more as dull pain slowly melts into pleasure.

“Lyle” gasp out when he thrusts a little harder. “Oh, fuck.”

“You like that, baby?” You nod immediately. 

“Want me to do it again?” 

“Yes, please”

He does— gently at first until he’s fucking you at a pace that makes your cunt ache. You can feel your wetness drip around him each time he pulls out, and when he drives back inside you, it helps aid his momentum, filling you entirely to the root.

The movement caused your eyes to clench shut, but he continued as your muscles became more relaxed. Once those sweet little sounds started to spill from your mouth, Lyle took it as a sign that he could dial it up a notch.

You gargled between thrusts, your entire body shifting along the ground as the momentum pushes you upwards, "Lyle... you - it feels - so good."

“Such a good fuckin’ girl, aren’t you, baby?” he whispers against your lips, teeth nipping at your flesh each time he sinks inside you. “So good for me.”

Words get lost in the back of your throat. 

Lyle lowly moans, "cunt is so, so sweet, babygirl. I'm one lucky man. It's mine, right?"

You whine at his possessiveness, "yours."

Without missing a beat, Lyle continues, "sucking me in so good. Doesn't want me to leave. You want it? You want my cum?" You nod frantically, walls squeezing at the thought of him painting your insides. Lyle smirks, "oh ho ho, I felt that. You want me to fill you up? Have you drippin' when we get back? So much that I need to push it back inside. Gotta keep it where it belongs, yeah?"

You release a high-pitched moan, scratching at his back as the familiar pressure began mounting in your lower abdomen. Lyle felt it as well, but he was trying his damndest to hold off until you came around him. He needed to feel you cum clenched around his cock.

His fingers wind down your body, quickly squeezing your nipple before skilled hand navigated to the juncture of your legs, expertly finding that little bundle of nerves, coasting down to your swollen clit. Creating small circles on your pearl that match his thrusts.  Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him down closer to you.

You felt light headed as everything suddenly was so overwhelming. You were deprived of air as Lyle continues to smother and kiss you. Your clit, already swollen from earlier, was being relentlessly circled with a heavy thumb. Your entire body continues to rock in time with his deep thrusts, each time pressing impossibly further into you.

"Lyle - I-" you blurt out, “I think I’m c-close

“C’mon baby, come for me. I want to feel you”

It all happens in a blur. Nothing but pleasure exists for a brief moment, however this time, the moment extends— prolonged by Lyle fucking you through it. It repeats over and over— your body seizing like you’ve been electrocuted, before sagging back against the ground, completely fucked out. Yet you keep jolting intermittently as lingering waves pulse through you.

In your moment of overwhelming pleasure, Lyle speeds up his hips in attempts to trail you as closely as possible. He holds you by the hips so tightly that it’ll be a miracle if you don’t bruise, and he snarls like a goddamn animal as he comes, emptying his balls deep inside you. half a dozen pumps of sticky cum lined your walls. His balls continued to tighten as they forced every last drop out, milking him for all he was worth

With one final thrust, Lyle presses as deep as he could, feeling his cock twitch as your walls continues to squeeze erratically. He holds you there for a long, long moment, letting your tight, tight cunt squeeze around him for just a moment longer before the feeling starts to edge into something bright and oversensitive.

Even so, he wasn't going to pull out anytime soon. No, he would stay deeply settled in the silky warmth. Pulling out now may be to jarring for you .

Once your full body twitching finally slowed to a stop, Lyle slowly rolls your conjoined bodies over so you lay against his chest. Nether of you knew it was possible, but you slip further onto his cock before falling limp against his chest. The first bit of cum slipped out, forming a semi-translucent ring around the base of his cock.

Leaning back slightly to look down at your sweat laden face, Lyle smiles at your first-time glow.  

After catching your breaths for a minute, you begin tracing circles along his bare chest, “We should be heading back soon. They would be wondering where we are."

He presses a kiss to your sweaty hairline, trying to smooth it down, "let me worry about them, I want to hold you like this a little longer”

You hum, feeling exhausted.

After a while, you began to wince in pain as your hips tensed from the position. Lyle didn't want to lift you off, but it was going to happen at some point or another. He slowly sat up, making sure not to jostle you as you fought the urge to sleep.

Neither enjoyed the sensation as Lyles' strong arms wrapped around your torso to lift you off his soft cock. While the pressure was gone, you suddenly felt empty without him. Your walls constricted, forcing a glob of his cum to slip out of your stretched slit, landing right on his balls. Lyle groans at the sight, forcing himself to look away so he wouldn't grow hard again.

You fall limp against his chest as more of his cum began to slowly seep out, tucking your head into the crook of his neck as you try to find a comfortable position to rest your exhausted body.

Lyle rubs at your bare skin, loving the way your naked body feels against his "get some rest, baby”

You nod your head in agreement. You weren’t going to fight on that one, "but we should be heading back”

“Don’t worry about that. Rest, baby. You need it”

Your breath evened out in under 2 minutes, letting sleep consume you.

Previous | Next

(This is my first time writing smut, so I hope it reached everyone expectations)

Taglist: @alexandra-001 @commanderrivercc-3628 @henhouse-horrors @certainkittenpeach @multi-fandom-rando @zzedah @mrstargayen09 @loaksulluyswife @averagehorrorgirl

[beevosmeower]

Juno harassing the public

Aka how I think she’d meet my mutuals pcs

Juno would meet Angel ( @ladyofalabyrinth ) at school school and immediately become the biggest pain in the ass. In my head they met during a quiz and she’s looking around after turning hers in unreasonably early and god forbid she locks eyes onto Angel’s quiz and is like “????” She almost gets a warning not to cheat until they see 1. It’s Juno, and 2. It’s Angel. She wouldn’t be sexual or pushy, she’s just peppy and friendly while not being an innocent damsel in distress. Tbh the only thing that would make them get to friends level in my head is Juno’s noncon ward. Yeah shes not the type of person Angel attaches to quickly, but also being around her isn’t annoying because people in town aren’t sexually harassing them when she’s around. Do I think Angel would consciously piece it together that people actively do not try to sexually harass her when Juno’s around? Probably like, a good chunk into the future when she’s already committed to being friends. No escape stage

Helena on the other hand. I fear after Helena gets in her sights Juno is passively testing grounding techniques on her that she wouldn’t notice. Silently reality pilling her with treats (funding the coquette dreams with a growing list of trinkets and “impulse buys that don’t fit whoopsies”)

Outsideeee of school however

@doldulce and Juno’s meeting is already posted but I do think it’s funny that her initial response is “Oh Brother, this guys a total freak.” Their second meeting being in an alleyway and had her slamming a guys head into a wall def doesn’t help the allegations but also they both lack any and all self preservation in the face of curiosity.

Juno and Andrea ( @ibarawr ) met at the shopping center cause she noticed her outfit and was like ooo good taste! Queue Juno somehow toeing the line between normal compliment and way too specific but flattering compliment.

Juno would see Lucian ( @lovekylarforever ) getting stalked by Kylar and be like “…? Um do you know ur being stalked? By the uh… sweaty dark haired kid. Oh you know him? Swag” Nosey asf but supportive of everyone’s thing. If you want that freakussy that’s ur prerogative!! She’s supporting it!! Lucian feels like bro would be the top subscriber to the PCverse Kylar Tracking App but instead of using it to avoid the mf, Lucian is using it to GUN for him. 

A Fish ( @deadfish-dol ) Juno interaction would be so interesting cause they both have the effect as a character to just be appearing everywhere in uncanny but vaguely helpful ways. They give the Cheshire in Alice Mare, always there, questionably helpful psychedelic cunty gothic horror jrpg NPC. Juno took one look at Fish and went “yeah ur coming with me. You’re mine now” Introvert Distribution System.

Crackles knuckles, onto @dendrofiles pcs. Callie and Juno would have the funniest dynamic cause it would mimic class of 09 “bitch gimme a fry” “is that how you ASK?” “Bitch can I PLEASE have a fry?” Those two prove that there IS room to romanticize crashing out and partying out of control in Highschool. You can pray they’ll peak in Highschool but they’re gonna peak again in college and then again afterwards.

I feel like Juno and Niko would def know each other since yk covering up stuff legally is kinda her dads thing. Niko/Wren Juno would be in a vague friendship of she’s mildly fascinated with him and low key getting her into shit would be it’ll be WAY less easy to kill people out here. Smh the unfairness

As for Angelo ( @hysterical-luxury ) .. man good luck. Juno would lock onto them ESPPPP as a new student? Bros NOT getting away 😭 … She’d be like Oo new person! Hang on for an emotional roller coaster but hey you have a friend and ally for life. Juno is absolutely forcing meetings with him though, it’s the same vein as Angel where she’s very intentionally showing up in their path constantly. “Funny seeing you again!” (She knows damn well you were gonna be in this area). As for Faline…. Um.. Juno has to be kept from Faline or else she’d live up to her emotional carpet bomb title. (I love Faline but all my pcs would break the vague warped mental Nirvana he has.) Cherry and Juno would meet through her dol introduction of dragging Juno into an alleyway, girl will 100% agree to sex if propositioned cause ell o ell why not? Spinning around a breeding comment in my head at the end of their encounter cause girliepop was def told before being released onto the public to not get pregnant, so if Cherry wants her to try and get her pregnant she is DOWN to defy science!! Also rapidly spinning around Princess in my head too. I feel like Cherry and Princess would be pretty regular friends with Juno since they all have pretty parallel demeanors. Princess and her would have a horrible first meeting though since Avery approaches Juno a lot considering how much he works with her father with the sheer amount of hit and runs he has to deal with from Avery… I have another post cooking on it but the man would shamelessly approach his “honorary niece” despite having his sugar baby with him smh.

[bilightningwhumper]

@May-lancholy 2025- Day 22

Trapped with them- Lumina

Fish Out of Water Masterlist

TW/CW: noncon (nonsexual) intimacy

Lumina

Lumina couldn’t sleep. She stared, unseeing, at the ceiling. She could feel Cruella deep asleep next to her, the woman’s chest rising and falling against where she was pressed to Lumina’s arm. The other woman’s arm kept Lumina in place, wrapped tight around her almost imperceptibly rounder stomach.

Ever since they’d gotten the news, the trio treated her differently. She still couldn’t leave their sight, but where nights had been her solitude, she’d been forced to stay in one of their beds each night. They still controlled her meals, but now force fed her what they wanted her to eat. It was almost worse than the punishments. They even hand-bathed her now, instead of just leering and making jibes at her appearance.

But what could she do? It was clear they didn’t want any harm to come to the baby. And it was clear that no matter her condition, she would be trapped with them. Her last check-up had made that extremely clear. So she just… let them do what they wanted. She was already their plaything.

She should probably just be grateful she was their doll now. It was better than being their mouse, at least.

Fish Out of Water Taglist:

@melpomenelamusa, @elle297382, @iamheretohurt,

May posts on scheduled queue, including times when I'll be asleep or at work, so keep an eye out if you request to be on the taglist but not edited into the scheduled posts yet

I have medical bills coming up. If you like my stuff and/or want to help me out, here's my ko-fi. Any help is appreciated. Bonus, you'd see my future book content, too!

[muddyorbsblr]

relinquish the crown: plans & protestations

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: Season 1, Episode 12; one month after 'from a world away'

Summary: Tensions start to run high when you and Loki thwart Prince Damien's monopolization of your schedule and the visiting prince acts impulsively, making a declaration that could ruin your once bright plans for your life in Asgard

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 7.3k [pls prepare drinks & snacks accordingly]

Warnings: themes of incest (he's adopted but still); potentially inaccurate depiction of an archery lesson; definitely inaccurate depiction of a royal court gathering; Prince Damien (yes he's a warning now); misogynistic behavior from the royal family of Alfheim (are we surprised?); lap sitting; Odin's A+ Grandfather-ing

Things to be aware of: Loki giving precious protective future husband energy

The sun had barely begun to rise in Asgard when Loki hopped off his bed, speeding his way through his daily morning preparations, using his magic to cut every corner he could, all to be out of his chambers and ready for when you would step out. Today he was going to be there before that blasted Prince Damien. Today he would walk to the dining hall finally by your side, as it should be.

Today the void in the shape of you that had made its presence felt for the last two fortnights would finally cease to plague him.

He took a deep breath, pleading to the Norns that when he opened the doors to his chambers the hall would be noticeably lacking in a certain bothersome visiting prince from Alfheim, and perhaps he could finally spend a sliver of time with you today. The hall was thankfully empty when he stepped out; however, he knew from days past that this did not necessarily equate to your time not being monopolized by the short-sighted scheming prince.

The sound of footsteps approaching your door from the other side filled his heart with hope, his pulse quickening when your doors opened and he caught sight of your face peeking out, an adorable expression of conspicuous alertness coloring your features as you glared at the turn at the end of the hall. Your gaze swept across the length of the hall, your eyes softening with visible relief when they met Loki's.

"Good morning, little princess," he greeted you with a chuckle, holding his hand out for you to take as you stepped out of the door. "You seem in need of a place to hide."

The god's brows knitted together the moment your full form came into view, immediately questioning the sleeves that covered the length of your arms, with holes at the end to put your thumbs through. What worsened his concern was the additional collar piece that covered the entirety of your shoulders and neck.

"Darling, are you ill?" He quickly closed the distance between you and placed the backs of his fingers to your forehead, tracing your features with his fingers, feeling for a chill under your skin.

"Ill? Gods no, Loki, don't be absurd," you answered him with a chuckle. "I have not known the displeasure of being ill since I was but a child." And then as if on queue, your face scrunched its features in clear discomfort.

"What do you call your frequent headaches, then, darling?" he prodded, pressing his fingertips to your temples and gently massaging the area, a smile coming to his face when you let out a relieved sigh in response. "Would you tell me then why you've chosen to wrap yourself as if you are to go into the tundras of my birth realm? Are you cold?"

You let out a lighthearted laugh when the god pulled you into his arms for an embrace, not hesitating to wrap your arms around his midsection to return the favor. "Not cold," you said with evident deflection. "I do however appreciate the hug. I feel as if I hadn't seen much of you, or anyone really, the past few fortnights." Loki's heart quickened in his chest when you nuzzled your cheek against his chest. "I've missed this," you sighed, sounding the paragon of contentment as you settled into his hold.

"I've missed you as well, little princess," he breathed out, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. "However this does not dissipate my initial concern. Is everything alright with you? Something feels amiss."

Without lifting your head from his chest, you shook your head to answer his question, your audible groan of frustration rumbling against his skin through his robes. "This blasted prince has been monopolizing every waking moment of my time, so no. Everything is not alright. I haven't had an hour this past moon apart from sleep or bathing to barely even think. He has infiltrated every aspect of my life, and I despise it."

He rested his cheek against the top of your head, holding you just a touch tighter. "I take it the visiting prince's wandering eye has not ceased?"

"If only it were just that," you grumbled. "Now he has wandering hands as well. I reckon if he was not certain that I would chop off his manhood where he stood he would attempt to have wandering lips to go with it."

He knew that it was irrational for him to see red at that moment, for that voice in his mind to seethe and scowl "How dare he lay his hands on what is mine? Has he no awareness of what would befall him if a single hair were to fall out of place from my beloved? My fated?"

But the words stung bitterly in his heart. You may be his beloved and his fated, yes. But you were not his. Not to kiss, not to praise, not to pleasure or love.

But in this moment, perhaps he could be granted the privilege of having you as his to hold. And much as he knew you were more than able to fend for yourself, his to protect.

"This insolent boy of a prince, has he hurt you? Forced you? Pressured you in any way?" he seethed, holding you by your covered shoulders and searching your features for any sign that could tell him the answer was yes. So that he may have an opportunity to inflict some form of damage on the arrogant visitor; he'd been itching for the chance ever since his first day in Asgard where the two exchanged words that were as if they'd been meticulously chosen and woven together to crawl under his skin.

And rub into his face that his desire and love for you will remain unrequited for the rest of his days.

"Just say the word and an accident could befall him."

His growling vow didn't do much other than elicit a slight chuckle from you, your nearly covered hands reaching up to cup the sides of his face. "There's no need for that, Loki, I am more than capable of fending for myself. Truly my only frustration is that of all the things I can control where this royal farce of a courtship the only thing that slips my grasp is my time. I haven't the chance to train or plan or even study, my duties have been taken on by Grandmother's ladies in waiting or by Grandmother herself. I feel myself a burden—"

"Ah, Princess. Good morrow. I could have come here earlier had I known--Oh," Damien's words were cut short as he caught sight of you in Loki's arms. "Good…Morning, your Highness. Are you…are you ill? Your eyes are a frightening shade of crimson. Shall the princess and I call for a healer for you?"

"There will be no need for healers, Prince Damien." Your voice had lost all softness once more as you addressed him, a striking contrast with how delicately you were stroking the god's cheeks with your thumbs. "Ro deg ned," you whispered to him, giving him a beaming grin when his eyes returned to the stormy blue hue you'd grown accustomed to. For a moment he'd nearly forgotten that you two were no longer alone in the corridor.

That was, until the bothersome prince made his presence known once more. "Right then," his voice pierced through the otherwise peaceful quiet of the palace's halls. "It was such a beautiful day out I was wondering if we could arrange for a nice picnic out in the gardens or perhaps even the palace roof--"

"Unfortunately, Your Highness, it seems the princess' day would be a touch too full today," Loki cut him off, looking down at the visiting prince. From the corner of his eye he could see your face light up with more than visible optimism. "Perhaps you can postpone to another day?"

Where there was relief in your expression, there was an equal amount of evident irritation in Damien's, the smile he'd painted on his face so strained that the corners of his mouth were visibly shaking from the effort. "I already had the day planned out that the fair Princess and I would leave for the market after breakfast and--"

"As Loki said, my itinerary today is just a touch too full, Prince Damien," you cut him off, the bite in your tone slowly creeping in. "Perhaps another day."

You motioned towards the hall, your eyes burning with impatience as you wordlessly urged him to be on his way and find other plans for the day ahead. Unfortunately before he headed back down the corridor, he turned to you again, seemingly unwilling to accept that he would not be monopolizing even a fraction of your time this day. "This itinerary of yours is something you must do alone? Perhaps I could accompany you, assist you where--"

"She won't be alone," the god interjected, his tone quickly becoming sibilant as he fought to hold back his own displeasure on how this prince was imposing his presence upon you. "As you know, Y/N has been tasked to plan and arrange for the upcoming festivities for the Winter Solstice, and in the past moon since your visit had begun hasn't had much opportunity to progress these plans. She's sought my council and assistance to make up for lost time since we worked splendidly together planning for the previous festival, and we are to spend the next few days planning in hopes of replicating last season's success."

The elven prince's nostrils flared as he processed the words. Yes, you insipid little boy. The days of you wasting her time are over. You will not be what hinders her from performing her duties to the best of her abilities. From becoming the queen she ought to be when the time comes. I'll make sure of it, Loki thought to himself.

"Don't forget about training," you chimed in, your overall demeanor significantly relaxing knowing that you would not have to spend the day swatting away unwelcome hands from encroaching on your personal space. The mischievous gleam in your eyes had returned as you threw a smile the god's way. "However with all my time out of practice I can feel my strength waning a fraction, it'll hardly be a fair fight."

"Little Princess, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were asking me to treat you with a lighter hand." His fingers instinctively twitched to lightly touch your own, his heart skipping a beat when he saw your little finger reach out in a motion as if to hook itself to his own.

"You know better than that, my Prince. I would always insist on a fight consistent with that of a battlefield, don't even think of--"

"Well then," Prince Damien butted in, tone shrill and impatient. "It seems that I've been moved to make alternative plans for the following days." He hissed out his words, hilariously and equally incapable of masking his irritation as you were at hiding your relief. "I will see you again when your schedule is a little less congested, Y/N."

"Princess Y/N," you bit out, correcting him. "You've not yet earned the level of familiarity to call me by such a casual moniker, Your Highness." You motioned once again to the direction of the hall from where he came from. "Until the next engagement," you said coldly.

"Right…" The elven prince's nostrils flared once more as he turned back and walked down the corridor, footsteps heavy with his indignation from your dismissal of him.

"Does this mean I may change into…less constricting attire?" you spoke in a considerably lighter tone, softly bumping your elbow to his arm when Damien turned the corner.

"Whichever way you're comfortable with, darling." He brought your hand up to press a soft kiss to the backs of your fingers. "I can wait if you decide to change."

Your next action caught him off guard. You charged toward him and wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace. "I'll find some way to make it up to you, I swear."

The god tucked his hand under your chin, basking in the sight of the radiant grin taking over your features. "Nonsense, little Princess. The vision of your smile is more than enough." He pressed a light kiss to the tip of your nose, leading you to scrunch it at him before you ran back to your chambers to change into the attire that he and the rest of Asgard had grown accustomed to. Once you were well out of earshot and the heavy doors of your chambers stood between you two, he let out a soft exhale. "My love…"

"Fuck." You hissed out the expletive as the arrow you loosed landed a good few inches to the side of your intended target, feeling tension tighten your muscles into knots as you readied the next arrow and pulled the bowstring back.

Before you loosed your next arrow, however, Loki assumed his position next to you, one hand wrapped loosely around yours stopping you from releasing the bowstring, the other splayed over your stomach. "Wait, darling. You're letting your frustration rule you. Focus on your target and release your breath…slowly." As you exhaled, he moved his hand from your wrist to your elbow, making minute corrections and feeling for involuntary fidgeting from straining to hold your breath. "Now release."

It felt as if the world was at a standstill as your loosed arrow flew right into the dead center of your target, your jaw dropping in astonishment as it split the arrow already occupying its space straight down the middle. The arrow that your mother Lady Sif had shot into the target before departing from the training fields.

"Very nicely done," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. With a wave of his hand, a new target materialized next to it, this time in the form of of a wooden sculpture in the shape of a man that was slowly but steadily approaching you. "Now aim for his knees and elbows before he reaches you. Incapacitate your opponent before he has the chance to strike."

You turned your head as best you could only to end up cheek to cheek with the raven-haired god. "Wouldn't it be more efficient to aim for his head and stop him where he stands?"

"For the sake of this exercise, pretend that you need to capture this opponent for future interrogation. He'll be of no use to us with an arrow embedded in his skull. He's getting closer, little Princess. Make your move."

You took a breath and loosed an arrow that shot straight through the wooden dummy's knee, slowing its movement. It took a handful more attempts before you got all four targets and his enchanted wooden dummy ceased all movement.

"Decent enough," Loki murmured with a click of his tongue. "But I've seen you do much better, little Princess. You were not jesting when you said you were out of practice." You could both hear and feel him chuckling against the back of your head, hands working at the knots tensing up your shoulders. "Do not feel so discouraged, darling. A few days of regular training and you'll be back in fighting condition. We just have to work together to keep that bothersome prince from muddying your itinerary for long enough."

You let out a groan just as he hit a particularly large knot in your shoulders. "That will be quite the feat if we can keep him away even past this evening. He seems quite adamant that this time sucking endeavor—I mean, this courtship," you seethed at the word. "Would eventually lead to a formal proposal for my hand."

"Refusal would still remain an option," he offered. In truth, the god knew that it would have been questioned by Odin the second the rejection slipped from your elegant, articulate lips. And he would expect a reason that was beyond reproach for why you would burn a bridge with Alfheim so resolutely with such words.

The explanation of wishing to marry for love might not save you for much longer.

"We both know it isn't," you sighed, shoulders slumping down and out of Loki's hold. "If I say no, the ever mighty Allfather would expect a damn good reason behind it. So unless your magic can conjure me a proper husband that wouldn't turn his back on me and have a harem of concubines to fulfill his troublesome and questionable sexual appetite before this blasted Prince formally states his intention to propose, I fear my days on Asgard may very well be numbered."

"Numbered?" he gasped, your words feeling as if an anchor had just sunk to the pit of his stomach. "Y/N, darling, surely you wouldn't leave home just for--"

"Ah, there you two are." Loki stepped back from you at the sound of Sif's voice floating across the field. "My husband and Odin require your presence, Brother. You'll find them in the Main Hall with the rest of the royal court. And the visitors from Alfheim."

Your mother's words were heavy with an implication that he dared not look into for fear of the conclusion he would come to. There were few potential scenarios for what would greet him once he entered the hall. But only one screamed audaciously with the haughty air of inevitability.

The combined efforts of yours and Loki's to keep Prince Damien from consuming all your free time had led the vapid visiting royal to act rashly. To move up his timetable in such a way that his intentions to woo you would be expedited, and he required the approval of the royals above you before he could proceed.

With a brief peck to the back of your head and a nod towards you and your mother, he departed from the fields and headed off to the Main Hall to see what matter needed his opinion. Or perhaps his approval.

She began to walk the steps toward you, assessing the work you'd done on the target board and the dummy. "You require a touch of practice, my dear Daughter," she commented before her eyes landed on the center of the board once again, realizing that her arrow from earlier had actually been split down the middle. "But your aim is impeccable. I take it the last few fortnights have not been conducive to your training as a warrior…"

Your mother walked over to a small display of weapons and picked out a short sword, motioning toward it and prompting you to pick your own weapon of choice. Daggers.

"One of these days I'll have to watch you spar with your uncle," she said, both of you falling into a rhythm of swings and blows where she tested your defense capabilities. "You're quite possibly the closest to his level of proficiency with this weapon."

"He's an excellent instructor," you shot back, feeling the slightest pinch in your muscles trying to move as fast as she did. "You are right, however, Mother. This past moon has placed the slightest handicap on my agility…and my focus. Norns willing, the next few days will correct that even by a touch. At the very least, Loki seems convinced of it."

Her next swing was strong enough to get you to stumble from your stance. "You two have grown quite close…confide in each other more than others, even. Anyone watching from afar might even mistake you for--"

"Lady Sif, Princess Y/N, your presence is requested in the Main Hall."

You both promptly dropped and stashed away your weapons and followed the palace guard down the corridors toward your destination.

"Might mistake me for what, Mother?" you asked her to fill the heavy silence, trying desperately to put your mind off of what was to come once you walked through those doors.

"Pardon?"

"You were saying something earlier before we were called on to come to the Main Hall. Something about me and Loki confiding in each other…" you trailed off, hoping to prompt her of her prior train of thought.

Recollection lit up her eyes. "Ah yes, I remember now," she murmured, absentmindedly patting your shoulder as you stopped just shy of the doors, waiting for the guards to announce your arrival. "It was nothing, Daughter, truly. Put it out of your mind."

You eyed her with the slightest hint of suspicion, wondering what could have been at the end of her sentence, but ultimately did as she suggested once the palace guard opened the doors and you were greeted with the sight of a packed hall, every seat on the table occupied, with Odin seated at the head.

"Announcing the arrival of Princess Y/N and Lady Sif," the guard spoke before stepping off to the side and making a gesture for you and your mother to step across the threshold.

"I can't find a seat," you grumbled under your breath, just barely enough for your mother to hear.

"Unfortunately, Daughter, you shall be alone in your plight," she answered back with a hint of playfulness. "So long as your father is in the room, there is always a seat for me." She practically glided over to where your father Prince Thor was seated and all too happily situated herself on his thigh.

You couldn't help but watch their exchange with fondness, and a tinge of enviousness. Wondering if this type of affection could even remotely be what was in store for you with what was to come of your life once Prince Damien speaks the words. Or if it would feel as if nails were being hammered into a coffin as the days passed until you were declared his wife.

"It seems I shall be standing, then," you said a little louder, assuming your warrior's stance.

"Don't be so brash, Your Highness," one of the visiting royals from Alfheim chimed in. "There are two perfectly suitable princes more than ready to accommodate you." You raised a single eyebrow at the Alfheim courtier, silently daring him to continue and prompting a barely held back chuckle coming from Loki's direction. "I am positive Prince Damien would be more than willing to offer--"

"Yes, I am indubitably," the visiting prince interjected, sitting up straighter and vaguely reminding you of a Midgardian canine, tongue wagging as he awaited a treat.

"You said two," you pressed on, your tone showing the slightest hint of irritation. "Before you were interrupted."

"Ah yes." The courtier cleared his throat, a seemingly sinister sneer pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Well, there is also Prince Loki."

The sound of a chortle vaguely came from the other end of the table, though you couldn't quite place who it had come from. You opted to instead direct your gaze at the raven-haired prince, raising your eyebrow at him with the slightest scrunch of your nose, as if silently prompting him to confirm.

He responded with a minuscule nod of his head, shifting his posture on his seat that would allow for you to use his thigh as your seat if you so pleased.

You had a choice to make, but as soon as the thought crossed your mind, you felt a harsh, banging pain in the back of your head. The faintest sound of a voice screaming from a faraway distance about how there was no choice. There never was.

Then an invisible force that tried to push you forward.

This visiting elven prince was getting on Loki's final nerve. With every word that came out of his mouth, the god's urge to have him mysteriously and conveniently disappear grew stronger. To perhaps turn him into a mouse and feed him to one of the wolves in the den.

He carefully considered what the consequences would have been for such an act, if he could even get away with it. What the procedure would be if a search and investigation would be launched and who would be suspected and questioned. It was that line of thinking that ultimately had him decide against such an act.

You would have been suspected of harming the prince. And Loki would be inconsolable if he were to become responsible for any harm that would come to you as a result of that suspicion.

He would just have to find another way to extricate the bothersome prince from your lives.

The god's thoughts were abruptly halted seeing the obvious signs of your head hurting once again, your face struggling to not contort into one of discomfort. Vehemently refusing to show any sign of weakness.

You and him were quite alike in that form of stubbornness.

Come to me, my love, he thought to himself. Let me help relieve your aches.

The irksome prince cleared his throat, the sound something that the god likened to a toddler stomping his foot and pulling a temper tantrum. "Princess Y/N, I would be more than capable and willing to help in alleviating the burden of your heavy load. If you would--"

"The burden of my heavy load?" you repeated, your voice dropping into a vaguely menacing tone, stunning Damien silent. "Prince Damien, for the sake of your constituents that are present in the room with us and only for their sake, I will hold my tongue."

The court members from Asgard and Alfheim alike looked to the prince whose cheeks reddened with humiliation, undoubtedly slapping himself internally over his poor choice of words. A chorus of stifled chuckles began to fill the war room before Odin cleared his throat loudly, calling everyone to attention once more.

"Now if you would remember what I said earlier at sunrise about familiarity, you would do well to keep in mind that the lesson rings true and extends to more than simply the monikers and titles by which you can refer to a person. It may extend to this situation as well."

Your expression visibly softened, causing a pit to form in Loki's stomach from even considering the possibility that this would take a turn and you would somehow state that the familiarity could be established in such a gesture. Perhaps even making light of his remark about heavy loads.

"However," you continued, the simple word already soothing the god's concerns. "Much as I appreciate the gesture and the…" You paused for a charged moment, a smirk tugging at your mouth. "…enthusiasm, there are two categorical truths in this exact moment. The first is that your level of familiarity with me, while still quite rudimentary, has improved to some degree."

Suddenly the pit was back in his stomach.

"The second…is that I have that familiarity with and have known for much longer…my own family." You stepped toward the side of the table seating the Asgardian royals, once again beginning to calm Loki's racing heart.

When you reached his side he wasted no time holding his hand out toward you, wrapping his arm around your waist to hold you steady as you perched yourself near effortlessly on his thigh. As if you were meant to be there all along.

"Comfortable, little Princess?" he teased in hushed tones, desperately straining to keep the tone light while thinking of the most unsettling images to quell his burning desires.

"Quite," you answered with unmoving lips, gathering your hair over your shoulder farther from his face. "Is this alright?"

More than alright, my darling. I don't want you to ever leave, he thought to himself, not trusting any word that could come out of him at the moment. He opted to answer you with a soft smile and a nod, his heart skipping a good few beats when you gave him the tiniest scrunch of your nose before facing everyone once more.

"I would like to know what the agenda of this meeting is." The upward lilt of your tone toward the end nearly made it seem like a question, but the god knew you better than that. This was a command, directed at the visiting prince.

You did not need to be present in the minutes prior to your and Sif's arrival to know that he was the reason this impromptu gathering was called. That this was simply his way of trying to reassert some dominance in the relationship he was attempting to establish with you.

"Erm, yes..." he stammered, clearing his throat before starting. "Well, Your Highness, I am quite aware how you value your time and schedule, so I shall do my best to keep this short."

Much like other parts of yours, you tapped into the back of Loki's hand in Morse, nearly failing to stifle a chuckle.

Behave, little Princess, he tapped back, desperately resisting the urge to press his cheek to your shoulder. Or Norns help him, kiss it.

"I would like to formally state my intention to court you. With the eventual objective of marriage."

You went so cold in his arms that if he didn't know any better, he would have thought you'd gone ill in that exact moment. The smallest tremor from you was enough to tell the god that you were quickly growing to be as furious as he was with this development.

This cannot be happening, you tapped with a shaky hand. If he could reject this pesky brat of a prince on your behalf he would have done so in a heartbeat. He didn't need to look upon your face to see the mix of fury and trepidation on your face.

Loki could feel it emanating off you in waves.

"I would completely understand if you feel overwhelmed by my declaration, Your Highness--"

"I'm not," you cut him off, poorly stifled chuckles once again filling the room. You cleared your throat, doing what you could to straighten your stance while perched on the God of Mischief's thigh. "Prince Damien, you have been a guest on Asgard for a full moon, and in that time I believe it would be correct of me to assume that you have heard the whispers about me."

Looks of intrigue colored the faces of every member of the royal court present, shifting their gazes between you and the god that had his arm around you. He for one was much too aware of what the denizens of this realm whispered when they believed that no one of consequence could hear them. What the optics of your relationship with your father's brother implied.

Surely you were not referring to those rumors? He'd spent an exorbitant amount of time and effort ensuring that your ears would never be tainted by those vile whispers, even if they were partly true. At least when it came to Loki's affections for you.

"And…which whispers would we be referring to, Your Highness?"

"The only one with any merit," you shot back almost immediately. "That I have, on more than one occasion, expressed my intent to marry for love. Not for power, alliance, or lineage. Now considering that I am more than capable of droning on until the sun sets and I have the slightest flair for the dramatic--" You turned to Loki for the slightest moment. "--made worse by my time spent with you…" You then turned your attention back to the visiting prince. "I will grant you a touch of mercy and not hold you all hostage with a rather lengthy answer."

"Here we go," both Thor and Sif muttered before shifting their position in their seat as if settling in to watch a play.

"To put it succinctly, I do not love you. I'm not even quite sure if I am inclined to say that I like you. This past moon I have been more than gracious in granting us both the time to acquaint ourselves with each other's characters and if I may be plain, I find that I am left wanting. There is much that I wish in not only a husband but a partner and I am yet to find those traits within you."

It was at this moment that the elven prince's colors had begun to show. Damien scoffed at your words. "I am the crown prince and Future King of Alfheim, what more could you possibly want in a husband?"

"And I am to be the Queen of Asgard and the Nine Realms." Your voice took on a tone that he'd not heard since the Summer Solstice, when you had Astrid removed from the palace. "The last time I consulted the records, Alfheim is among those realms. My list of wants may be exhaustive but I can say here and now that my requisite is fealty. I am in no need of a king that finds he needs to satiate his hunger with a harem of maidens at his disposal. I need a partner. And while I find myself too aged to believe in myths of fated souls and crimson threads, I must admit that would be, as the Midgardians call it, a nice cherry on top."

Oh darling, if only you knew that your fated soul currently held you in his unconditionally devoted hands, Loki thought to himself, struggling to hold back his smirk once he spotted the prince once more visibly seething from across the table. He once again had to hold back the urge to make any move that might create the image of him staking his claim on you.

He would continue to toe that fine line of occasionally indulging in the chimera of having you to call his while he fulfilled his unspoken vow of keeping you safe from those who wish to do you any harm. From those who intend to use you to further their agenda driven by power or greed.

Before you could continue and before the prince from Alfheim could utter a word, Odin broke the silence. "Ehem, I'm sure that what the princess here means is that...not enough time has passed for the two of you to adequately familiarize yourselves with one another. Perhaps extending your visit a few moons more would grant you both the opportunity to bridge this gap?"

You'd begun to subtly shake with your barely contained rage. If this meeting didn't conclude within the next few minutes there was no doubt within his mind that this would lead to a shouting match between you and the Allfather.

But before Loki could step in to find a way to mediate the course of the conversation, you spoke again.

"Or perhaps we could agree upon a different type of partnership. One that requires…significantly less physical contact. I own a good few businesses on Midgard, I would not object to you or another representative from your realm establishing your own entity that could franchise off of one of them. That way a unification between our realms can still be attained between our realms by less…antiquated means."

The god once again felt you relax in his hold, just as the other prince began to visibly seethe in his seat, the tips of his elvish ears beginning to turn pink. "And why would I want to have anything to do with Midgardian business?" he questioned, hissing his words through his teeth. "Those Earth folk are--"

"We will forward your gracious offer to the royal family for consideration, Princess," one of Damien's royal advisors spoke for him, putting an arm out in front of the prince whose attitude likened him more and more to a bratty toddler throwing a tantrum with each passing second. "We are most grateful for this opportunity, Your Highness."

"But I will still extend my stay on Asgard," the crown prince spoke again, his tone more whiney than resolute. "I wish to stay this course. I have said in the beginning of my visit that I no longer have the wandering heart that I once had in my youth. I have been reformed. And I will prove it to you."

"Very well." Loki did not need to see your face to know that you, too, had begun to speak through your teeth, the exchange becoming more insufferable with every word that Damien uttered. "If you do not wish to take the offer of a business merger, I do hope someone within the royal court of Alfheim will be willing to take that helm. As for your visit moving forward, we can discuss a schedule that will allow for you to stay your course while I can maintain my duties, for I refuse to be stagnated any further. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Princess."

"Well then…I believe we may adjourn this meeting. I'm quite sure we all have our own duties we must get back to and I'm quite sure Prince Loki here would be more than happy to be relieved of the burden of my heavy load."

The room burst into a fresh round of chuckles, some much louder than the others, as most of the attendees stood and took their leave from the Main Hall. A quick look around the table and Loki spotted his mother attempting to demurely cover her mouth with her hand to mask the wide smile, and Sif currently had her face tucked into the crook of Thor's neck, shoulders visibly shaking with her laughter.

He bounced his knee once, making you jump slightly on his thigh letting out a little hiccup that had you looking back and playfully squinting your eyes at him. "You are not, and you will never be a burden, little Princess. Remember that," he said just loud enough for you to hear before he lightly poked at your side.

It was all he could do not to pull you back to him when you stood from your seat on his thigh, smoothing your hands down the skirt of your dress. "Well, I shall get back to my planning for the Winter Solstice festival." You turned once more to face Damien, squaring your shoulders and straightening your back as if daring him to defy you. "We shall discuss that schedule tomorrow morning. After breakfast. And not a moment sooner."

"Y-Yes, Princess." From the corner of his eye, he could see his mother's head tilt to the side the moment the elven prince's jaw clenched once you strode out of the room.

Just as Damien was about to take his leave from the Main Hall, Thor's voice boomed and filled the room.

"Prince Damien, a word of advice. My daughter was not made to be impressed by titles and shows of sheer arrogance. She was raised to value people for their character, for their substance. You wish to be favored by her, then show her that you are someone worth favoring."

"Of--Of course, Your Excel--"

"Otherwise please do cease your continuous waste of all our time."

Thor's words took everyone aback, an evidently proud look coloring both Sif's and Frigga's expressions.

"I--I do not wish to waste anyone's time, Your Highness," Damien stammered, the legs of his chair scratching across the floor with a grating sound once he stood. "I will win the Princess' favor, I swear it."

Once he too had taken his leave, the remaining Asgardian royals also dispersed, and Loki followed the arrogant tone that could only belong to a certain visiting prince down the halls to see his character's truest form. He found him at a rather secluded corner of the palace, not too far from one of the hidden passageways.

He quickly cast a cloaking spell, ducking behind the hidden door before the elven prince began to pace around the corridor.

"It was humiliating, Father!" he whined into the Midgardian communications device that looked quite similar to the devices you would at times be seen fiddling with for more trivial amusements. "I will not bend the knee to this bratty entitled wench of a Princess. She enjoys trying to make a mockery of me as if she's so special and powerful and Oh Princess do you wish for me to drop to my knees and kiss the ground you walk on while you ask me to satiate my needs with only you for company when you would probably be the lousiest lay in all of the Nine Realms?"

Loki began to grow white-knuckled from how hard he clenched his fists. How dare this short-sighted infantile excuse of a man speak about you so disrespectfully? It would already set the god uneasy if this Damien were to talk about any woman in this light but to hear these vitriolic words spoken about you led him to strongly consider violence toward the visiting prince.

Another quick enchantment granted him the ability to hear the other end of the call.

"Son what have I said about grinning and bearing it for the sake of the Realm? All you have to do once she's agreed to marry you is ensure that you do not perform a Vow of Fidelity so that consequences won't come to you once you need to seek…better company at night. Your females here are growing more and more desperate for your return I might pay them a visit to calm them some."

"What pigs," the god muttered to himself. He needed to do something. Stop this courtship in its tracks before you had to be strong armed by Odin to marry into this repugnant family.

"You're welcome to them," Damien answered with a dark chuckle. "I'm running low on funds to keep these wenches quiet, make sure they don't run back and tell their beloved Princess about their visits to me. Norns know that if she ever finds out, she and her magic-wielding guard dog will thwart our family's dreams of my becoming Allfather on the spot."

"I shall send more, Damien, don't you worry. You only focus all your mental efforts on how you will secure this Y/N's hand. Then you marry her and come home. Where you can live your life as you decide, not how she or her family dictate. She may be in line for the throne to rule all Realms, but until she sits on said throne, she is just another woman. Granted she is afforded a few choice privileges that stop the moment she steps foot on Alfheim soil."

"Thank you, Father. I'll marry her and rip her away from that overprotective oaf of a father of hers. And that incestuous prince. Then when she's stripped of her defenses all she will be is a vessel to bear my children. Then our family shall rule the Realms and everyone in the Realms that looked down upon us will watch helplessly as their beloved Princess becomes nothing more than a Royal Childbearer."

Loki's blood ran cold. This was the plan? He'd known the moment he laid eyes on this Damien that something wasn't quite right with him, but to have targeted you simply for your title and isolate you from everyone that loved you and that you loved in turn? From your friends? Your family?

From him?

No. He would not stand for this. There had to be another way. He would find another way.

He would move the Realms themselves if it meant keeping you safe from those that wished you even a fraction of the misery that this elven bastard of a prince planned to put you through.

The god moved through the passageways as quickly as his feet could carry him, nearly breaking into a run until he reached the exit that led straight into his mother's workroom. He'd forgotten his manners and simply barged through the threshold, eyes wide and murderous as he caught his breath.

"Loki! You nearly gave me enough of a fright to send me to the Healers. What has gotten into you, my boy?"

"We have a problem."

A/N: *peeks from around the corner* Well hi there…it's been a while since the last episode from this series…like about 7 months give or take 🥴🥴 When I tell you my writer brain just decided to go wheeeeee…I barely even know what I'm working on these days 🤣

Anyways, RTC is back and I'm doing my best to plan out the last 3 chapters of Season 1 and then the series will officially go on a break to plan for Season 2 because I gotta be honest I have little to no padding for the first half where I intend to cover the events of the betrothal 😅

But the plot (I hope) is plotting and now y'all can see what the actual driving force behind Loki's surrender was 🥺 And we hate Damien and his father in this household because seriously?? Writing that conversation gave me the ick and if you knew the type of "comedian" I had to watch just to get that vibe down like I need to cleanse my soul after 😩

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

[manonblaqkbeak]

A Little Tumble

Rowaelin month Day 6: Misunderstanding Leading to Disaster. @rowaelinscourt

I hope it's okay that I'm posting this a day early, I have a busy weekend ahead and I don't trust tumblr's queue system tbh lol.

I can't wait to read everyone's stories and see what everyone does, I feel like I'm never on here anymore but I couldn't stay away for rowaelin month. I love this little tradition of ours!! Rowaelin forever <3

cw: forced kisses, teenagers being dramatic (although not about the forced kiss because that would be horrible), injuries and mentions of sex but nothing graphic and me attempting to be humorous because nothing super disastrous happens lol.

1700 plus words. Sorry for any grammar errors :)

Please enjoy!!! Xx

Aelin couldn't stop crying. She had been crying for an eternity now, or what felt like it. And everything hurt, from her eyes to her toes as she sobbed and sobbed.

She hugged her pillow tighter as she heard her phone vibrate on her nightstand. She didn't need to look to know that it was Rowan. Her phone had been buzzing for ages now. She was sure her phone would soon freeze from the force of all the notifications she was getting.

She should block him. She should, but she couldn't move her arms. She breathed in the scent of Rowan's aftershave that clung to his pillow.

He wouldn't be sleeping in this bed next to her anymore. Wouldn't buy her iced coffee every morning on their way to school, would no longer would there be talks about their futures. No more of him buying her favourite snacks as study aides. No more calling her 'Princess'.

She no longer had a future with Rowan Whitethorn and her soul broke at the realisation.

A soft knock rapped against her bedroom door, and her mother's voice filled her ears. “Aelin, sweetheart, can I come in? I just want to talk.” Aelin nodded, her throat too sore to speak. “What happened today, at school?”

Fresh tears left Aelin's eyes as she made herself speak the horrible truth. “Rowan broke up with me.” Her voice was raspy.

“What? What do you mean that Rowan broke up with you?” Evalin asked.

“He dumped me, mum. He dropped me for Remelle Frost.”

“Are you sure?” she had never heard her mother sound so confused.

“Yes! I saw him kiss her!” Just saying it out loud made her cry even more, if that was even possible. Her mother came closer to her, running a smoothing hair along her hair. Her phone buzzed again. “Can you please leave me alone, and take my phone with you?”

“Okay, sweetheart, but I'll be downstairs if you need me.”

Aelin just nodded and her mother left, taking Aelin's phone with her.

Aelin closed her eyes and sobbed some more.

X X X X

Aelin woke up to the sound of knocking—not on her door, but her bedroom window. She lived in a two storey house, so that only meant one thing; someone climbed the tree next to her side of the house and was standing on the roof.

Aelin sat up and saw Rowan outside her window, his face desperate as he knocked again. Like she was fucking blind and couldn't see him there. At some point it had started to rain and he was drenched.

Anger shot through her at the sight of him, that he would come here after everything that happened today.

She left her bed, her blankets tangling around her legs but she managed to stand up straight as she unlocked her window. “What do you want, Rowan? To rub it in my face about your new girlfriend? Because I don't want to fucking hear it.”

Rowan's face crumpled at her anger. “Aelin, please, I can explain. There's been a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding?” she hissed. “I saw you kiss Remelle.” Bile raised in her throat at the words, at the image that zapped through her head. Remelle's hands clenched in Rowan's school blazer, her lips on his. “If there's a misunderstanding, then I don't want to hear it. Go to your new girlfriend and leave me alone!” Aelin ripped off her beloved promise ring and threw it at him. He flinched as it hit his face and tumbled off the roof.

Aelin heard her parents voices echoing, asking her if she was alright, and then they were there, at her bedroom door, watching Rowan as he watched her.

“I didn't kiss her!” Rowan said, pleading. “She was talking about how she's leaving during the summer to go to a new school and that she didn't want to leave with no regrets and she kissed me. Forced herself on me, actually. I pushed her off. Lorcan saw the whole thing, he can tell you what happened. Please, Aelin, let me in.”

“I don't believe you.” Even though it did sound like something Remelle would do—and Aelin was aware that Remelle was leaving, and was ecstatic when she heard the news. She and Remelle had never gotten along, not even in kindergarten.

“Please, text Lorcan,” Rowan begged, his own eyes filling with tears. “He doesn't like you enough to lie to you.”

That was definitely true.

“Rowan, you should come inside, before you hurt yourself,” Aelin's dad, Rhoe, interjected. He ignored the glare Aelin sent his way. She was willing to text Lorcan but she didn't want Rowan in her room, not now.

Aelin went to ask her mother for her phone when her parents gasped and swore, and when Aelin turned around, Rowan had fallen off the slip of the roof and was on the ground.

Aelin had never run so fast in her life.

X X X X

Waiting in the urgent care felt like an eternity—which made Aelin dub this day as the longest day in her life.

But soon Rowan was walking out towards the waiting room—towards her—when Aelin noticed the cast covering his right forearm. Tears sprung up in her eyes at the sight.

“I'm okay,” Rowan said as he sat next to her. “No concussion, no bleeding on the brain or anything, just this eyesore for the next eight weeks. Thank the gods that summer has started, at least.”

“What about work?” They were both employed at the Stag Rose Grille as servers and were going to use half their weekly paychecks to go towards their trip after graduation next year.

“Doctor gave me a sick note, and I have a lot of personal leave saved up.”

Aelin nodded and they sat in silence, even as the loudness of the urgent care lobby surrounded them.

“I called Lorcan as I was waiting,” Aelin said after a moment, and Rowan's dark green eyes snapped towards her tear swollen face. And his heart broke at the sight, at knowing that she had cried so much over him. “And he told me what happened, about Remelle. I'm sorry that I didn't believe you, and I'm sorry that she forced herself onto you. Are you okay? We can go to the police and report it, I'll be with you every step of the way.”

Rowan leaned over and kissed his girlfriend on the cheek. “I'll be okay. And I just want to forget that it happened. I've already blocked her on everything—I should have years ago.”

“I blocked her, too,” Aelin said, “but not before I gave her a piece of my mind.”

Rowan knew Aelin, and knew that what she said wouldn't have minced words. “What did you say?”

Aelin's answering smile was the very definition of pleased. “That if she ever came back here or ever contacted you after what she did, I was going to set her on fire.”

“Aelin! I think that's considered a felony.”

“What she did to you is a felony! Besides, she called me a cunt and said I was insane and that she would torch me if she ever saw me, so I think we're even.”

Rowan snorted, even though it made his head throb a little—he had no concussion, but his head was definitely a little sore.

Aelin yawned and looked ready to pass out. “You should tell your parents what happened, I know they're away for their anniversary weekend, but they would want to know before they come home to an unexpected insurance bill.”

“I'll tell them later. Let's get you home.”

Aelin smiled and kissed him on the lips. “I like the sound of that.” As they slowly made the way to Aelin's car, she said, “I also like the idea of ordering an extra large cheese crust pepperoni pizza, with garlic dipping sauce.”

Rowan smiled. “You drive and I'll order.”

X X X X

It was midnight when Evalin checked in on Aelin and Rowan, the young couple clinging to each other in Aelin's queen sized bed, Rowan's cast resting on one of Aelin's many pillows.

The room stunk of garlic and cheese and she slowly made her way across her only child's room to open up her window to let in some fresh air.

As Evalin made her way towards Aelin's nightstand where the last of the pizza remained, Aelin's eyes cracked open.

“Sorry about today, mama.” Her voice was still a little strained.

Evalin reached down and kissed her daughter on the forehead and smoothed her hair away from her eyes. “It's okay, I'm glad it worked out for the best. And your father found your ring, by the way, it's in the kitchen, drying after its wash.”

“Thank you.”

“Get some sleep, you've had a long day.” Aelin nodded and closed her eyes.

Evalin grabbed the pizza box and froze at the sight of Aelin's bin.

She knew that Aelin and her boyfriend had made up after the events of today—they had been dating for three years, after all, and Aelin was very open about their relationship— it was the reason why Aelin's TV was so damned loud earlier, but she hadn't expected to see three condoms on top of the waste bin.

“Mama, if you keep looking at them like that, your eyeballs are going to fall out,” Aelin said, her eyes still closed. “Rowan got too excited—”

“I don't really need to hear the rest. Goodnight, love.”

Aelin chuckled. “Night, mama.”

Aelin's bedroom door closed and Rowan groaned beside her. “Did you really just tell your mum that I came too early?”

Aelin chuckled again, her boyfriends face a little red from the embarrassment. “She won't judge, she'll just tell me to cover them up next time like I normally do. Besides, she knows everything that we've done. And she's walked in on us, too, remember?”

Rowan's groan vibrated the bed. “No. I had made myself forget.”

Aelin smiled at how bright Rowan's face had become and pressed a great, big smacking kiss on her boyfriends cheek. “Goodnight, buzzard.”

“Goodnight, Fireheart.”

Aelin rested her cheek against Rowan's bare chest and fell asleep to the sound of Rowan's strong heartbeat and the light drizzle of rain.