#man i wish i had more buttons to add

[poisonedfate]

#man i wish i had more buttons to add #this was too fun #anyways #get to work everyone #bbc merlin #merlin

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

wildest dreams - m. murdock

a/n: i have literally not been inspired for two weeks then i was STRUCK with the urge to write this. guys. i am so proud of this one i am not even going to lie. this one is dedicated to @bunmurdock because i am literally always thinking about professor murdock.... i really hope you guys enjoy this one, because i enjoyed writing it :) warnings: SMUT! inappropriate dynamic, P in V smut, so much cursing, lots of inappropriate thoughts and pining, power dynamics, dirty talk, reader does an edible and is high for a small part of this fic, reader isn't stupid in this one! she is just horny! she is also deaf, and there is yapping of readers daddy issues word count: 6.3k likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! <3 summary: you have a huge crush on your professor and spend many days desperate for him. pairing: professor!matt murdock x hoh!reader now playing: wildest dreams - taylor swift (taylor's version) "i said, "no one has to know what we do"/his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room"

You could treat him better than any of these other horny grad students.

Seriously, that is your only conscious thought watching this man move around the front of this lecture center. You’re not dumb, you know everyone sitting here wants him—Those who are attracted to men want to fuck him and those who aren’t seek his approval. But you are built different, you’re also lacking a major sense, besides, your brain runs ramped with disgusting thoughts about the man.

Today’s focus is on the man’s outfit. It’s his last class of the day, and it shows. His clothes are a bit more wrinkled, and his hair is messier than it had been when he started the day. But most importantly, his jacket is thrown on the back of his chair, meaning you have a phenomenal view of his torso.

He wears a white button down, with the cuffs of the arms rolled up to just below his elbows, the bottom of the shirt tucked into the waistline of his pants. The shirt is tight, maybe a little too tight, especially around the arms. Maybe it’s because he works out. Or at least, you assume he works out.

That brings us to his tie. Oh, his tie. It’s nothing special—a pure black tie, just hanging from his neck. Your mind wanders. It starts at the dissection of a key court case in the subject of minimum wage, but from there, it starts drifting to his tie.

You think about the tie moving back and forth above you as he thrusts into you, brushing against your face, pulling on it to bring him closer. You think about that soft half chuckle he does, before he says something dirty like—

“Did you have something to add?” His voice right in front of you snaps you out of your trance. Fuck. You were not paying attention.

“Uh, No, Professor..” Your face is a deep red, embarrassed. You wish you could take off your hearing aids to stop listening to all the giggling from around you, from peers who are thrilled that Professor Murdock’s little (not-so) secret admirer got called out for her staring.

“Hm,” he taps the table in front of you, “Then I want you paying attention.” He says, before going back to his lecture. You could die right there. Everyone is laughing at you. He embarrassed you.

Okay, so you have no proof that he’s ever wanted you in the way that you’ve been so god damn desperate for him, but it’s still crushing that he’d single you out in that way. That maybe while you were increasingly needy for him, he found you fucking annoying, in such a way that he felt the need to embarrass you in front of your peers.

You want to melt—Melt into a puddle with just your boots and your hearing aids left behind so you never have to face him ever again. That’s why you’re so relieved when he dismisses class right on time (Well, right on time for him. He always ends class five minutes early to leave room for questions) and you quickly gather your things.

Because of the sheer level of embarrassment he has caused you, the other students in the class who want him try to flock to him, sensing that you no longer have the confidence to engage with him—But your desire is still there, as you messily shove your things into your backpack. You turn when you’re finished, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

Your face is still flushed, part because you’re embarrassed, part because you are out of breath from rushing. But you are faced with the view of your professor, all alone. Your breath hitches when his hand moves up to the top of his tie, as he smooths it out, running his fingers down the fabric.

“I read your essay on the expectations of the courts and law versus the realities of it. I loved it. The argument using Gideon versus Wainwright to justify the existence of the right to counsel as a civil right and not a liberty was fascinating, especially considering your other arguments about how race, class and gender play into those realities. Well done. I thought it was some of your best work.”

Your face is flushed for a new reason now. Wasn’t this the same man who was mad at you for not paying attention?

“I thought so too.” You confess, and he just smiles. He loves that you’re confident in your work. You’ll make a great lawyer one day.

“Oh, and,” He digs through his leather satchel to pull out some notes, running his finger over the folder tab to make sure he has the right folder, “Here are the printed copy of our notes from the last few lectures.” It’s part of your accommodations that professors give you a copy.

“Thanks, Professor.” You smile gently, reaching out to take the papers. Your hands meet and as you grip the notes, the tips of your fingers just barely brush against his. Neither of you say anything. Neither of you let go.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you today.” He starts, “But you’re bright—Smarter than most of your professors, I bet. And I don’t want you to fall behind.” He says softly, and without saying it, you know he’s worried because of your hearing. He was disabled in law school once upon a time, and he recognizes your potential.

“It’s okay.” You say softly, softer than your voice usually is. “I get it, really. It won’t happen again.”

“Good.” He says gently, letting go of the papers now. As you clutch them close to your chest, his hand goes back up to mess with his tie again. Does he know what he’s doing? Does he know how wild it drives you? He must. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“See you on Thursday.” You agree, and that’s when you leave the classroom.

As the door closes behind you, he listens intently. He hears your nervous heartbeat, could practically feel the heat radiating off you. But he knows your routine by now. You’re about to start playing music, and he likes knowing what sort of mood you’re in as you leave his class.

A smile spreads across his face when he hears the opening notes of that new Hozier song, ‘Too Sweet’.

• • •

You are a straight A student. You study days in advance for exams, you write elaborate study guides and most of all, you do not miss class, unless you are dying (no, seriously, the last time you missed class you were rushed to the hospital, sick with pneumonia after a big exam, which you aced). So, when you’re not in Matt’s class on Thursday, he tries not to panic.

You’re a grown woman, he tells himself, and he doesn’t have an attendance policy, having told the class on syllabus day that he trusted them to know when to come to class and when they should go lay in the sun or stay home with a bad cold.

But you once came to class doped up on cold medicine with a mask on, just because you didn’t want to miss any important information. He heard it before you got to class, so he faked a family emergency to cancel class early that day. He could hear your rattled sigh of relief as the other students flooded out.

And he knows for a fact you didn’t show up today because of how fucking loud you are; You don’t mean to be, but he can hear the light buzzing of your hearing aids, and you wear these big work boots that stomp even when you’re trying to step lightly. And he heard neither buzzing nor stomps today.

Oh, your boots. He’s spent years with everything being too loud, but he just can’t help but think about the boots—What color were they? What were their texture? He has this fantasy that lives at the very back of his mind of putting you in heels, heels too big for anyone let alone a girl who only wears clunky work boots, that way he would have to help you, take care of you, and it is a fantasy that will probably live at the back of his mind until he dies.

Sure, he’d probably get married, settle down with someone his age and never worry if she might be dissatisfied with an older man, and she’ll be quiet. No hearing aids, no big boots. They’ll have kids, they’ll be happy together. He’ll still go to you when he can’t sleep, and no one will ever know.

Wait, what was he doing? Oh, right. You weren’t in class today.

His fingers move over the keyboard to look you up in the system. He clicks on the audio assistant to read him your information. It reads out your first and last name, middle initial, then your grade in his class (A+), your accommodations (Notes, time and a half, things like that), your birthday, and—

Wait, he takes a moment, and his fingers go over to his braille calendar, realizing that you’re taking a day off because it’s your birthday. A laugh escapes his lips, because how silly was he being?

His fingers move again to find your email address. He debates for a moment before adding the subject line, “Absence Today.” Then, he erases it and changes it to, “Class Today”, hoping you wouldn’t freak out before reading the email.

And just for a moment, he lets himself dream. He writes the following email to you,

“Hey, sweetheart—

Happy Birthday. I’m so happy you’re taking a break, you deserve it, more than anyone else I know. Are you doing something fun for it? Going out and getting wasted? Hooking up with some college guy who couldn’t fuck you properly?

If I could, my birthday gift to you would be a day spent with my face buried between your pretty thighs, although that might be a birthday gift to me and not to you. I’ve always been a selfish man, and you seem to be something I am entirely selfish about. I want your hands tangled in my hair, tugging on it as I taste you. I want you all to myself. I didn’t hear the buzzing of your hearing aids or the clunking of your boots, and I felt this striking yearning.

I can’t stand being around you without having you. It’s torture.

Happy Birthday,

Matthew.’

He thinks about it for a minute, before completely erasing the email, and sending you this one instead:

‘Missed you in class today! We went over the reading for Chapter Seven. Happy Birthday! Professor M’

He sends it, and then rubs his face, a long sigh leaving his lips. He is completely enamored by you, and it is so unfair.  You’d be in class on Monday, he told himself. He’d see you then, and it would be like getting his fix of you.

Then, he turns to the distraction of trying to grade papers. It won’t work. He’ll still have you on his mind all day, and there will be no relief in sleeping. Hopefully he’ll dream of that long day between your thighs.

• • •

Truth be told, you were not drinking and fucking some random guy when Matt emails you. You were cuddled up in bed, giggling and eating snacks, so many snacks, because, well, you took an edible with a bunch of your friends and now are high out of your mind.

Some animated shows are on in the background, and when your phone buzzes, you pick it up and almost melt when you see the email from your favorite professor. You start giggling like a kid, your fingers clutching your phone as you read the email over and over again.

One friend looks up to you from her place on your floor and asks, “Are you alright?”

You don’t answer at first, but then you nod, and pull your blanket close, imagining Matt’s arms around you. Your brain paints you a picture of him holding you against his chest and gently playing with your hair.

It’s a nice fantasy.

• • •

For being a law student, you really fucking hate it sometimes. Okay, that’s not true. You love being a law student and are so excited to go out into the world and make that difference. But you’d be lying if you don’t sort of contemplate dropping out and getting a sugar daddy over certain assignments.

Maybe Matt is in the market. Then you shake your head to get the thought out of there, before opening your laptop to check your professor’s office hours. The one that assigned this assignment is an old bat who does not have office hours except for during your other classes on Fridays.

Then, you look at Matt’s office hours. He has office hours right now. You click the pen in your hand a few times, thinking. Contemplating. Would he want to see you at this point? Would you be able to control yourself?

You give the question you’re working on one more time before you lean down and grab your boots, starting to lace them up. Then, you pack up your bag, heart beating nervously over what—Asking him for help with an assignment?

You make it all the way across campus, the whole time worried about if you’ll walk in on your professor with some other girl. You almost laugh at that thought, because you think you’re silly for how dramatic you are about the man.

You stand down the hallway from his office for a few minutes, just contemplating. You could just turn around and not at all open the possibility of being around him, and everything stays the same. Nothing changes, and your relationship with your professor maintains it’s strictly professional relationship.

You walk towards the door, knocking on it before holding your breath.

“Come on in,” He calls from behind the door. Now or never. You open the door, and smile in his direction.

“Hey, professor,” You greet, a soft smile on your face. His tie is loose around his neck. You blink away whatever daydream your brain wants to dive headfirst into.

“Hey,” He greets, “I don’t think you have any assignments due, so what’s up?” He asks, tilting his head in your direction. As you think about it, you realize that you do not need help with an assignment.

“This is going to sound like a lie. But I had trouble with this assignment earlier, and suddenly I walked in here and realized I knew exactly what I was doing. I’m sorry for bothering you.” You explain, but you make no attempt to turn around and leave.

“Let me guess,” He starts, gauging by what year and academic proficiency you’re at, “Professor Reid’s estate planning class? That assignment about the will and testament of an old lady with a marriage less than 90 days and estranged kids?”

You groan and take a seat in one of the chairs in his office. He laughs in response, shaking his head.

“That old bat.” You roll your eyes. He just smiles and shakes his head.

“You’ll be fine. Just remember to cheat on your final.” He tells you, and you give him a perplexed look.

“What?”

“Well, for the final, there’ll be a question about a super niche argument on inheritance. Just cheat on it.”

“You’re a professor, telling me to cheat?”

“I cheated on it,” He shrugs. You suddenly remember that he used to go to school here and has taken all the classes you’re struggling with right now.

“You’re being unprofessional.” You tell him, and he smiles again. Your heart skips a beat, and somehow, his smile grows. As if he knows exactly what sort of effect he has on you. As if this is all a game he likes to play with you, his eager and willing participant.

“Okay, forget that I told you to cheat on Reid’s exam. We have to talk about something, it would be awkward to just sit here in silence. Uh, what did you major in in undergrad?”

“English. I minored in Disability studies.”

“So why Law?” He asks curiously, leaning forward and clasping his hands together, before resting them on his desk. Jesus Christ.

“I’m tired of being poor.” The answer slips out before you can really stop yourself. He laughs again, and something in you stirs. As if making him laugh is the newest way you feel good about yourself. How twisted is that? “I’m being serious!” You laugh too, unable to contain it.

“I’m sure,” he promises, “I grew up poor too, I was sick of it too. But if you’re going to be a lawyer—”

“You need to have respect for the law and the people taken advantage by it,” You finish, “I get that, really, I do. And I want to help people. I want to go into divorce law and help all the poor and battered women like—” You’re forgetting yourself. You’re forgetting that this isn’t a date and that this man is your professor.

“Like..?” He prods you to finish, curious. He is on the edge of his seat about you. This is more than he has gotten of you in the past few weeks you’ve been taking his class.

“Like my mom.” You finish suddenly looking for something to do with your hands. Anything, really. “But the check that comes with it isn’t exactly deterring me, you know?”

“I get that,” he says earnestly, “I was an orphan, one of those dirty scrappy ones you feel bad for,” he does that half chuckle that makes you want to go over there and kiss him. “Never knew my mom, and my dad died when I was young. So, I get it. Being poor and wanting to do better for yourself. For your parent who sacrificed for you.”

But it clicks for him, the hidden meaning behind your ambitions. You have daddy issues, and he can tell that’s part of your crush on him. Though, he’ll never say it to you. He’ll let it be something unspoken between the two of you.

“Yeah, I guess you do get it.” You smile softly. But this is dangerous. So so dangerous. The two of you are dancing this dangerous line—Well, more like you’re damn well dancing clear over the line and ignoring it. But you don’t know how to stop it. Maybe you don’t want to stop it.

“Well, uh, maybe you could finish that assignment while we’re here.” He clears his throat, straightening his tie and you try to connect the wires in your brain to focus on the assignment. You pull it out of your bag and place it on his desk, smoothing it out a bit. Matt gets up and starts to wander around the office, and you look at him curiously. “I think better when I can move around.”

You should’ve known that much, you have stared at him doing lectures, wandering from end to end of the rows and rows in the classroom.

“Yeah, totally,” You nod, focusing on the assignment. It’s on paper, the old bat refuses to use online assignments. You’re practically flying through the assignment, and it’s at the point where you are forgetting your company. In fact, you really don’t notice him.. Until you lean back and stretch, jumping when you realize that Matt has taken a spot right behind you, his hands on the arms of your chair, leaning forward. You’re practically leant up against him.

“See? Was that so hard?” Your face flushes, his voice right next to your ear. He has to know; he has to know how you’re affecting him. You tilt your head a bit, and your eyes are level with his chin. His stubble moves as he sets his jaw. He doesn’t smell much like anything… except the faintest hint of clean sheets and this slight scent of mahogany. It would go perfect with a whiff of whiskey.

“No,” you say quietly, and he almost shudders at the feeling of your warm breath against his cheek. “Not at all, Prof—”

“Call me Matt.” It’s almost begging. You’re kind of into it, but that’s not surprising given how incredibly attractive you find him.

“Okay.” You say quietly. He has reduced you to one-word answers. The two of you stay quiet for a while. You’re unsure what to say. Matt is contemplating his options. Anyone could walk in on the two of you like this. The door isn’t locked, and you want to bring this up, but the words die out in your throat. His head tilts a bit towards you, and you get a glimpse at those perfect lips of his.

“You know—” He starts, but before he can get any farther, you lean in and kiss him. You kiss him intensely, your hand on his cheek, and for once, you are not filled with regret at a bad decision. He doesn’t react at first, and for just a second, you’re nervous.

Then, He kisses you back, letting out this deep hum as he deepens the kiss. He tilts his head to get deeper into your mouth, and his hands make their way down to your hips. He focuses for a second, before wrapping his arms around you to pick you up and sitting you on his desk.

His hands trail down as the pair of you kiss, landing on your thighs. His fingers rub back and forth, and you gasp when he squeezes your thighs. He grins and takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your clunky boots hit against his desk and he practically growls at the sound. He pulls away, his teeth biting your bottom lip as he does.

You’re completely out of breath, and so is he. He stumbles back a bit, his lips swollen and bright pink from kissing you. He wipes his mouth as he pants, and inhales deeply. You run your fingers through your hair, brushing the hair that has fallen onto your face.

“We..” he mumbled gently, running his hand over his chin. “Holy shit, kid—”

“Don’t call me kid—”

“Listen,” he goes over to you and brushes the hair from your face, “That was.. it was phenomenal, but someone could’ve walked in on that, and.. Fuck, if we do that again, I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.” he confesses, his hands on your cheeks.

“When I was staring off into space last week, I was thinking about your tie.” You tell him, your hands are finding the base of it now. He tilts his head, curiously.

“What were you thinking about?”

“Was daydreaming about it brushing against my face as you fuck me.” You could swear his face is red. You grin.

“Yeah?” He laughs, taking the tie from you and bringing the tie up to brush against your cheeks, “Like that?” he teases, and you laugh back. Dick.

“Mhm,” You giggle, and your hands find his, wrangling the tie out of his hands, and tugging on it, before bringing him in for another kiss. He inhales deeply as he kisses you, taking the taste of you in for a moment before pulling away.

“I’m serious, sweetheart, this is dangerous.”

“Sweetheart?” You grin. He takes your chin and grips it between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Hey. Pay attention.” He says, and you want to argue that saying things in that low gravely tone will not help you pay attention, but you can tell he’s serious. That he wants your attention focused on him, this is important. “Listen. I like you. I like you a lot, but we have to be careful if we want any of this to go further. We have to be subtle and watch our steps.” He says softly.

“Okay.” You promise, “Okay, we should be careful.” He smiles gently and leans in to kiss your forehead.

“Good pup.” He hums, and your face flushes.

“I like ‘pup’.” You like sweetheart too, but your stomach flips when he calls you pup.

“Yeah, I know you do.” He grins. “Wanna get out of here?”

“I thought you said we have to be careful.”

“Okay, then I’ll give you my address and you can come over.” He shrugs. “I know how badly I need you, I can only imagine how you feel.” He hums, and you grin.

“Okay, Here, give me your phone.” Matt fishes his phone out of his pocket and hands it to you. You put your number in with your name, sending yourself a quick text before handing the phone back to him. “There. Send it to me.” He steps back so you can hop off the desk, before putting your homework back in your bag.

As you sling your bag over your shoulder, he grabs your wrist in his hand and pulls you close, just to kiss you again.

• • •

Your hands are shaking as you drive over to Matt’s apartment. You’re so full of desire for him, and you take a second after parking the car to adjust your hair and makeup. Luckily you had no plans with your friends so it’s not like you’re hiding anything from anyone.

Are you about to sleep with the professor you’ve had a crush on since the beginning of the semester? Hopefully. You take a quick glance down to the apartment number he sent you before climbing out of the car, locking it behind you.

Then, you manage your way through the building, finding yourself in front of his door for the second time tonight. You hesitate. Though, you’re not sure why. Well, maybe you do. Maybe you’re terrified that this is going to be bad. Or maybe that you’re scared you’ll be bad, and he’ll hate you.

Maybe you just need to get over yourself. Although, you can’t really do much more convincing because Matt swings open the door and grins at you. You almost die at the sight of him. His tie is gone, and his shirt is unbuttoned by three buttons.

“You’re so hot,” You blurt out as you hand him a cheap bottle of wine you picked up on the way here.

“You’re cute,” he hums, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the apartment, leaving you giggling as he closes the door behind you. You look around his apartment, your eyes catching on the giant billboard. You’re standing in front of the window when he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. His lips gently kiss your neck, up and down, biting your shoulder gently. “Enamored by the billboard, sweetheart?”

“Your windows are so big, probably a lot of light in here during the day.” You say softly, and he smiles against your neck.

“Mhm, one day, I’ll fuck you against those windows—”

“Matt,” You groan, but he just shushes you and kisses your neck again.

“I know, pup,” He hums, “But don’t worry, I’ll show you a very nice time, hear all those pretty noises you can make for me.” You blush, turning to say something to him but he wraps his arms around your waist again, before throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you to his room. You’re laughing all the way there, before throwing you onto the bed.

“Mean.” You accuse, but he shrugs.

“You’ll get over it, sweetheart, I promise.” He hums, and you sit up on his bed. He stands between your legs, leaning down to kiss you gently, his hands finding your cheeks again. He kisses you like this for a few minutes, before slowly kneeling in front of you, never breaking the increasingly sloppy kiss. You pull away from the kiss to study him. He tilts his head, his hands finding your thighs to rub them again as he did in the office. “What?” he asks gently.

“I spent all those lectures only being able to study you from a far.. Just let me really look at you for a while..” You request. He grins gently as your fingers run over his stubble again. Your hands move up to his glasses. “Can I take these off?” You request, tilting your head.

Matt hesitates, just for a second. He’s not really used to it, to someone truly wanting to see him, every part of him. But he trusts you, wants you to see him. So he nods, letting out a soft ‘yeah’ as you pull off those circular red glasses, gently folding them and setting them down somewhere safe.

Then, you take a good, long look at his eyes. They’re this deep brown, almost black, irises that are drop dead gorgeous. The skin around his eyes is scarred, but the scars are old, yet, you rub your thumb gently against that scarred skin. You lean in and press a kiss to the corner of his eyes, first the left one, then the right one.

He leans up and kisses you after that, his hands slowly making their way down your legs. Your hands find his buttons of his shirt starting to undo them. He pulls away from the kiss, before slipping off his button up, throwing it away somewhere in the room. Your eyes drift down to these scars on his collarbones, and your fingers run over them. Then, you notice other scars on his skin, and your hands find those too.

“Your boots are so loud,” he hums, and you’re taken back by it.

“What?”

“Your boots.” He hums, “I hear you stomping around with these things on, they’re.. Like a bell, you know? I like knowing you’re around.” His fingers go down to the laces of your left boot, slowly untying them. Then, he does the same with the right boot.

He pulls off your boots, before running his fingers over your socks.

“They’re multicolored. Bright and patterned.” You confess, and he grins, before pulling them off. Then, he stops, realizing you have another pair of socks on. He blinks, before starting to laugh.

“You have two pairs of socks on?” he chuckles, your face flushing.

“My boots are just a little too big!” You tell him, and he laughs, resting his head against your thigh. He finishes taking your socks off, before working on the buttons of your jeans. When he finally gets those undone, he pulls off your pants, throwing them somewhere close to his now abandoned shirt. His hand comes up to rub you through your panties, and he lets out a scoff as he does.

“So wet for me, pup..” He mumbles, coming up to gently kiss your cheeks and then your jaw, as you whine. “I know, baby, I know,” he says softly, rubbing your clit gently. You whine gently at the feeling, gripping his wrist. He chuckles softly, kissing you to shut you up a bit.

He pulls his hand away from your throbbing cunt to pull off your tee shirt, throwing it wherever. He starts to kiss you as you fiddle with the buttons of his pants and pull them off, letting him step out of the before he casts them away.

You grin into the kiss, before he pulls away.

“What? What’s got you so giddy, pup?” he asks, a grin on his face too.

“Briefs,” You hum, fiddling with the waistband of his briefs, and he laughs, shaking his head.

“Thinking about your professor’s underwear?” He teases, leaning in to bite your neck. “Dirty, dirty girl.” He grins, and you swat at his shoulder, which causes him to laugh. He likes having fun with you, even if it’s not inherently sexual.

His hands come up to run gently over your skin, trailing from your hands up to your shoulders, and then all the way to your ears, where his fingers gently run over your hearing aids. It’s a nice gesture, really, but as soon as his fingers brush over your hearing aids, you immediately retract, the feedback shooting through your skull, uncomfortably.

“Ow—” You cringe, leaning your head back to try and get away from his fingers. He cringes, hearing the feedback, not as badly as you do but knowing it’s there and that you’re in pain pains him.

“I’m sorry,” he coos softly, his fingers moving down to cup your jaw. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I hadn’t realized—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” You hum, tilting your head to kiss his palm gently. “It happens, It’s why you should never touch them while I have them on.” You shrug. He leans down and kisses your stomach a bit, before going back to kiss you again, deepening the kiss a bit before roughly shoving you back on the bed. You giggle as he climbs on top of you, caging you in between his legs, as he slips his tongue into your mouth again. He kisses you with passion and need, and it drives you entirely too wild. As he pulls away, one hand comes up to grip your chin, before he leans down with his head against yours.

“Want me to fuck you, pretty thing?” He asks gently, his voice sweet as honey as he talks so obscenely to you. You whine, finally getting what you want after weeks and months of waiting. He just smiles and shakes his head, “No, no, puppy, you gotta say it to me.” He requests.

“Yes, I want you..” You groan, bucking your hips a bit at the thought of him finally fucking you.

“Want me to do what?” he asks, innocently.

“Want you to fuck me, please..” You request, and this finally seems to satisfy him. His hand comes down to unhook your bra, throwing it behind him with the rest of your clothes, before his lips begin to travel downwards, kissing down your jaw and neck, before he’s kissing the valley of your breasts, his hand going down to rub your clit again.

He groans against your skin at the feeling of your wetness soaking through your underwear and listening to your moans. His hands begin to work to take off your panties, and as soon as those are gone, your hands come up to his briefs, wanting them gone.

“Off, off, off—” You huff, and he laughs as he slips them off. Then, he reaches over and grabs a condom from the bedside table, but you grab his hand, shaking your head, “No, no—I’m on the pill, promise.”

“You sure?” He asks gently, and you nod, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

“Sure.” You nod, and then you’re kissing him again, your hand going down to stroke his cock, and he gasps into the kiss, before chuckling. He pulls away to mutter out to you--

“Needy girl,” he purrs, before moving to kiss you again. As you’re kissing, he slips his cock into you, and you moan into the kiss, tensing at the feeling, “Relax for me, pup.. So fucking tight for me.” He groans, his hand coming down to swat your thigh. “Relax.” He tells you, his voice sterner this time.

You nod, trying to form a more conscious thought than the pure bliss you feel, your hands wrapping around his neck, scratching down his back a bit. He groans softly, as he starts to slowly thrust into you. He is using every ounce of self-control he has, resisting the urge to absolutely violate you.

But he’s trying to be gentle, be nice.

“Faster,” You gasp out, your fingers pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck. He does that half chuckle, and it makes you whine as he begins to speed up.

“Beautiful little pup..” he says lowly, “Been staring at me.. Wanting your professor so badly these past few weeks, dirty little thing,” he hums, “Fuck, so.. fuck..” Your legs are beginning to shake the longer and harder he thrusts into you. “So fucking good for me..” You whine into his lips as they crash into yours, one hand going down to rub your clit gently, the stimulation too much for someone who hasn’t had sex this good, ever, but especially because you haven’t had sex at all in the past.. well, six or more months.

“Matty, ‘m..” You can barely get the words out as he fucks you harder,

“I know baby, come on, cum for me, pup,” he coos, his thrusts nor rubbing slowing down, maintaining his pace. Within a minute, you’re coming with loud moans into his ears, and he’s following suit shortly after, coming deep inside you.

But for the few minutes after the two of you finish, he continues his thrusting, relishing in the pretty moans and the sound of his deep thrusts into you. Eventually, he slows down, remaining deep inside of you. He pulls you close, kissing you deeply before flipping the pair of you over, and holding your legs close to stay buried deep inside of you.

For a few minutes, there are no words spoken, just deep, frantic pants and sweaty skin against each other.

“You know, that was as good as I’ve been fantasizing about for weeks.” You pant, “Better, even..” He laughs and nods.

“Me too..” he kisses you softly. “Let me take you out somewhere.”

“I thought we had to be careful..”

“We’ll go away somewhere then. Just the two of us for the weekend. I need to be with you, I can’t get enough of you now that I’ve had a taste.. Besides, I haven’t even eaten you out. Now that, that is going to be fun.” He grins, and you swat his arm.

“Evil, mean man!” You gasp, and he just laughs, kissing your forehead.

“I’m sorry, pup, let me make it up to you,” he hums.

“How?”

“Calling you pup a few times, ordering Thai food and teaching you how to suck me off?”

“I know how to suck you off,” You scoff.

“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head, leaning in to kiss him. Then, lips still against yours, he whispers, “Prove it, pretty puppy.”

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #daredevil #daredevil fic #matt murdock fic #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x hoh!reader #professor!matt murdock #daredevil smut #matthew murdock #smut

[mncxbe]

For 8 SFW,can it be Chuuya, Akutagawa, Fydor, and anyone else you want to add?👀

Only if you want to do this though!!

i did Chuuya and Aku🥰 i love these little gremlins. hope you like it♡

8– accidentally walking in on them while they're changing

ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑Chuu chuu

You finally got home around 8 p.m. Work was exhausting and you just couldn't wait to curl up in bed next to your boyfriend and watch a movie with him. Date nights were rare occasions since you were both busy people, so you tried to make the most out of the little free time you had.

When you got in front of the bedroom door you found it slightly open. Through the crack, you could see Chuuya taking off his tie and shit, slowly undoing the buttons with a deft hand as he held his phone in the other.

"Yes, boss, the mission went well. I'll hand in the report by tomorrow at noon." he spoke in a level voice as he put on a comfy t-shirt and took a seat on the edge of the bed.

You knew you shouldn't spy on him like this, especially when he had a work call, but you just couldn't help yourself. There was something so beautiful about watching Chuuya do things, even if it meant simply changing his clothes, because you knew you were the only one who got to see him like this. In the comfort of your home, the feared mafia executive turned into an ordinary man, your man.

Once he hung up the phone you slipped inside the room, the creaking sound of the door sliding open alerting your boyfriend. He turned to face you with a wide smile on his face. "Hey, princess. Good to have you home. How was your day?"

He opened his arms, welcoming you in his embrace and you basically melted against his chest. Running your hands through his ginger locks, you pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of his head "It was good, but I missed you. Couldn't wait for tonight."

"That's good to know, love. I'll pick a movie for us while you change, ok? Oh and I also ordered us some Chinese food. Hope you're hungry."

Yea, you were hungry– starved even, but you didn't want to let go of him just yet. So when Chuuya's hands settled on your hips to guide you away from him you hugged him even tighter, cooing "Just one more minute Chuu. I really like this...."

The redhead chuckled at your reaction, snaking his arms back around your hips "As you wish, my love."

ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑Aku

Akutagawa has always been quite peculiar when it came to being naked around you, even months after you got together. That was part of the reason why your relationship lacked physical intimacy. Nevertheless, you understood his hesitance and respected his space.

At least until you accidentally walked in on him changing. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't hear your boyfriend moving around in his bedroom.

Akutagawa was standing shirtless in the middle of the room, his pants lowered to the middle of his thighs. When he noticed your presence, a frown etched itself on his features. "Y/N for god's sake can't you knock?" sneered the man, struggling to pull up his slacks.

Something about the way he fumbled with his clothes was utterly adorable. He looked... surprised, shy? Your eyes trailed along his figure: narrow shoulders and hips, pale skin littered with bruises and cuts from his battles. But you could clearly make out his lean muscles, flexing under his skin.

Akutagawa's initial annoyance melted away the moment he saw the adoring expression on your face. You looked at him like he was the most beautiful person on earth, your gaze so loving and gentle. A blush crept on his cheeks as he covered his face with the back of his hands, clearing his throat. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked in his gruff voice and you smiled bashfully.

"You look really handsome" you admitted and he sighed contently. "Then come here, babe. I'll show you some more"

#𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑ #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #chuuya bsd #bsd chuuya #chuuya fluff #chuuya x reader #bungou stray dogs chuuya #chuuya nakahara #akutagawa bsd #bsd akutagawa #akutagawa x reader #bungo stray dogs akutagawa #akutagawa ryuunosuke #akutagawa fluff

[happilyhertale]

A royal encounter - Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader x Oberyn Martell

Summary: Daemon had a great idea to bring a breath of fresh air into your marriage. But his plans were thwarted.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader x Oberyn Martell

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; oral f receiving, fingering (f in v and f in a), p in v sex, p in a sex

Author’s note: To celebrate the one year anniversary of my very first posted story, I've decided to finally post the Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader x Oberyn Martell story.... I hope you like it! And… Thanks for reading my stories for a year! 🖤 I am very happy that you still want to read my stories!

English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 3.3 k

Other stories of mine

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You cling to the railing with your hands. Daemon's hands dig into your hips almost unpleasantly, the marks of his fingernails will be visible for a long time. His thrusts slowly subside and his breath comes heavily. A warm breeze envelops you, here on the balcony of your old chambers. You have sought a little excitement, escaping the boring ball that has lured many lords and ladies to King's Landing. That's how Daemon came to practically push you into your old chambers for a bit of excitement.

You are both still breathing heavily as Daemon slowly pulls out of you. His soft laugh rings out as he gently kisses your nose.

But then this gentle moment is interrupted as someone applauds you and a clap is heard.

For a second Daemon's gaze meets yours before he looks over his shoulder and sees Prince Oberyn Martell standing in the middle of the chambers. He grins, "Perhaps I should have tried harder to seduce a Targaryen princess after all," Prince Oberyn says cheekily. In one movement Daemon pulls his trousers completely up and spins around, his eyes narrowing.

"Oh, is the Prince of Dorne trying to make a pass at my wife?" hisses Daemon.

A gasp escapes you and you try to hide your naked body behind Daemon's. Your gaze wanders, searching for your dress, which Daemon had torn off you just moments before.

As Prince Oberyn chuckles, "No... But now that I've seen how much fun you've had, I wish I'd had it too," he says to him. Daemon's gaze falls slightly over his shoulder, seeing you trying to cover your body. He sees you reaching for your dress, which is lying on the floor.

He looks back at Oberyn and his mood suddenly seems more relaxed. He starts to button up his shirt, "I think we were just looking for a little excitement here," Daemon replies.

"But..," Daemon adds suddenly, "if you want to join us, I could certainly be persuaded."

You are pulling up your dress and frowning when you hear his words, "Daemon? Did you just invite Prince Oberyn to a threesome?" you ask him a little shocked.

Daemon hears your words, but before he can say anything back, Oberyn intervenes. 

"A threesome?" asks Prince Oberyn with a grin, "I would have thought you were a jealous husband rather than an adventurous one...". Oberyn's words echo through the chambers and your eyes fall on Daemon again. You know he can be jealous, but this time something else is reflected in his eyes.

Daemon chuckles softly, "We could have a good time in these old chambers here," he says mischievously, "It might make everything a little more exciting." Daemon turns slightly, looking you straight in the eye, "What do you think? Is the Prince of Dorne a threat to our marriage?" he asks you gently. His thumb gently strokes your cheek.

You are not easily embarrassed, but this idea makes you blush. You bite your lip lightly, the pulsing between your legs reignited. Prince Oberyn was a handsome man. No less handsome than your husband, but in total contrast.

"No... he's not a threat. I only love you..." you say softly to Daemon.

Your gaze drifts to Prince Oberyn and his mischievous grin jumps out at you. He begins to unbutton his shirt and his lightly tanned chest is revealed. It is a stark contrast to your fair skin. Gently he brushes his shirt off his shoulders, revealing muscles that are rather small compared to Daemon's – he is defined but slender in stature. You step forward and stand next to Daemon.

But Daemon's gaze follows Oberyn's actions as he unbuttons his shirt, looking at his wife. He sees pure lust in Oberyn's eyes, the brown of his eyes barely discernible – his pupils dilated with lust.

Daemon notices how handsome Oberyn is and feels an excitement welling up inside him.

Oberyn's gaze falls on Daemon's face and notices Daemon trying to hide his excitement, but he sees his eyes fixed on the scene before him. A smile spreads across Oberyn's face. Oberyn walks towards you and slowly kneels on the ground in front of you.

You gasp briefly as his gaze goes up to you and he smiles at you. His hands reach for your dress and slowly begin to lift it.

The blush on your face continues to spread to your cleavage. Never has another man been about to touch you like this.

As Oberyn's voice brings you back to reality, "The blush is much more visible on your pale skin, Princess," he murmurs, "No need to be nervous, you'll enjoy it"

You bite your lip, even though you don't want to be nervous, you feel it flood through you.

You feel Daemon behind you, his hands on your shoulder. His thumbs glide gently over the crook of your neck. However unfamiliar this situation may be, Daemon's touch soothes you.

"Well?" asks Oberyn suddenly, "Do you want me to have her?" 

Your eyes slide from Oberyn's to Daemon's purple eyes. Slightly peeking over your shoulder, your lips meet, "I want you both, Daemon..." you whisper against his lips.

Oberyn chuckles lightly as he lifts your dress further. You're not wearing any undergarments and as Oberyn pushes your dress up to your hips, your light pubic hair is revealed.

"Mmm, the silver hair of the Targaryens..." he murmurs, pressing his face into it. A smile crosses his face, the smile of an artist when he sees the masterpiece he has created. 

You gasp as Oberyn presses his face into your pubic area. You exhale heavily, watching Oberyn enjoy the warmth of your private parts.

Daemon watches Oberyn and a slight, excited growl forms in his chest. Your previous words, "I want you both," also add to his arousal. Daemon's lips gently touch your neck as his hands begin to slide your dress down from your shoulders.

Prince Oberyn lets his tongue slide slowly through your womanhood. His fingers gently pull apart your folds so he can fully enjoy you.

You moan as you feel Oberyn's tongue find your bundle of nerves and gently circle it.

A "mmhmm" sounds from Oberyn as he pushes his face further into you. Your breath quickens as you feel Daemon lightly bite the soft skin of your neck and Oberyn circles his tongue faster. Your moans echo through the chambers.

When Oberyn suddenly lets go of your warm core and you whimper in disappointment. Your eyes fall on Oberyn, who looks up at you. His lips are glistening with your juice. Slowly he stands up and begins to open his trousers. Meanwhile Daemon lets your dress fall to the floor. His hands slide to your breasts, massaging them lightly. His thumbs and fingers grip your nipples, teasing them lightly. His lips continue to caress your neck as another moan leaves your lips.

You are now standing naked in front of them both. And your teeth don't want to release your lip. As Oberyn takes one of your hands and leads you away from Daemon. You take a step and slip out of your dress, which is lying at your feet. Slowly he leads you to the bed.

You climb onto the bed and Oberyn, who is naked himself, lies down beside you and begins to caress your body with his fingers. You see how Oberyn's hot length is already aroused and unlike Daemon's, a dark ring surrounds his size. You can't resist, you run your fingers through the hair. Oberyn grins at you and now he lightly bites his lip.

Your eyes fall on Daemon and you watch as his gaze is fixed on you. A shiver runs down your spine as you see his gaze follow Oberyn's fingers on your skin. Daemon begins to undress, his eyes never leaving you. First his shirt falls, revealing his muscular torso. The scars from all the battles won litter his pale skin. Your arousal rises immensely. As Daemon undresses from the waist down and his arousal immediately springs free, you moan. The way Daemon stands in front of you and Oberyn's fingers find their way between your thighs is too exciting.

Daemon's attention is on you, the love of his life, and the tanned man next to you, caressing you on the bed and sliding his fingers through your wetness. Daemon comes towards you with long strides, gently sliding himself onto the bed with you. His fingers find your hips, reach into your curves as he begins to play around your nipple with his tongue. You moan again as his teeth begin to nibble lightly. 

Daemon's lips slowly glide up your neck. A game of kisses and light bites until he encloses your lips. You breath into his mouth as Oberyn slides his hand to your bottom and turns you to Daemon. You lie on your side, your hand glides over Daemon's chest to his neck while your tongues dance wildly around each other. Oberyn brushes your silver hair aside and begins to kiss your neck softly. His fingers slide down your thigh, until his hand reaches the curves of your bottom and grips firmly. You whimper into Daemon's mouth. Oberyn releases your butt cheek and lets his fingers slide between your thighs. You whimper again as he covers his finger with your wetness and slides it to your butt hole. He applies light pressure and your whimpering repeats itself.

His fingers are slick with your wetness, easing the way as they tease the sensitive spot. He wants to push you further, to see how far you're willing to go. Experimentally, he stroked his fingers against your hole.

Oberyn's breath hitches as your hips begin to move slightly. A soft sound comes from you and your bottom presses lightly against his finger, your slight gasp sending a wave of satisfaction through him. He pressed a little harder, his finger slowly sliding into your tight, forbidden entrance.

The feeling of you around his finger, it all fueled his desire, igniting a primal need within him. He let out a low grunt in response, his own pleasure intertwining with yours.

He could feel his own cock hardening almost painfully, aching for the intense pleasure that only you could provide at the moment. The sound of your whimpering, your vulnerability and need, only served to heighten his own desire to please you.

Daemon's fingers mirror Oberyn's movements as his fingers slide between your legs. His attention is on your clit at first until he slides them inside you. You hear him growl softly as he feels the walls of your cunt already clenching around his fingers.

Daemon looks at you with slightly parted lips, enjoying the sight of ecstasy on your face. "You always take my fingers so well inside of you," Daemon mumbles a little breathlessly, "just like my tongue... My cock"

You whimper again and your fingers grab his biceps.

Daemon growls again and his gaze falls on Oberyn, who grunts slightly as he slides his fingers into your butthole.

"The princess is so tight," Oberyn murmurs and Daemon feels a tingle inside him as he hears the words. You gasp and bite your lip lightly as Oberyn's fingers thrust deeper, his warm breath on your neck.

Daemon lets his lips meet yours again, both of you breathing heavily, his fingers thrusting faster into you, completely wet with your juices. He starts to insert another finger into you and you moan almost desperately. The sensation of your wetness coating his fingers only fueled his desire further, knowing that you are becoming more and more receptive to his touch. He elicits a long whine from you as he curls his digits against your sensitive walls.

You feel the fingers thrusting into you. But this time it's so much more than usual. Daemon's fingers keep rubbing over the rough part of your wet walls, making you whimper, while Oberyn's fingers keep stretching your tight hole, awakening the feeling inside you that you need to feel so much more.

You moan out loud and before you've fully realised it, you feel Daemon's fingers pull out of you and slide his hot length through your wet folds. You whimper slightly each time he grazes your sensitive pearl. You moan even louder as he presses lightly against your entrance and you whimper again at the thought of how perfectly he will fill you.

"I think the princess will be perfectly filled tonight," Oberyn whispers, followed by a slight chuckle, as if he can read your mind. His lips still pressed against your neck as his fingers continue to explore your depths.

Daemon thrusts hard into you and your walls give way to his size. Daemon grunts loudly as he's back in his warm, soft home. His large hand slides to the back of your thigh, but you are distracted by the penetrating thrusts. He grabs your thigh and guides your leg closer to his body, placing your knee on his hip so he can penetrate you deeper.

He thrusts forward again and again, conjuring up the sweetest whimpering noises from you.

When you suddenly feel Oberyn's fingers leave your tight hole, you almost feel an emptiness inside you that needs to be filled. But then you feel his cock sliding along between your thighs from behind. Again and again he rubs it through your wet folds, soaking it with your wetness, while Daemon continues to thrust into your cunt.

Oberyn's cock throbbed with desire while his lips are still pressed against your neck. His breathing becomes heavier and you feel the warmth on the soft skin of your neck as he positions himself at your tight entrance.

You're slightly distracted by Daemon's thrusts and grunts, but you feel Oberyn begin to press the tip of his cock against your butt hole. You cry out slightly, but it ends in a long moan.

With a deep, primal grunt, he presses the tip of his cock against the entrance, feeling the resistance and tightness that awaits him. The whimpers and moans escaping your lips only fuelled his desire, his own need becoming unbearable.

But your butthole quickly gives way. Still slightly stretched by Oberyn's fingers, it almost greedily envelops the tip of his cock. You hear Oberyn moaning in your ear, breathing heavily.

"Gods... Princess... I haven't even been all the way inside you yet and you already feel so divinely tight," Oberyn murmurs breathlessly – you can only whimper.

Oberyn follows Daemon's rhythm and every time Daemon pushes your pelvis backwards, Oberyn takes the opportunity. Your bottom is pushed towards Oberyn again and again and each time he thrusts a little harder to meet your movements.

You feel yourself getting restless and your hand suddenly reaches for Oberyn's bottom. Your hand grips his small, firm bottom and squeezes gently. Oberyn continues to thrust slowly but firmly and you are caught up in the feeling of wanting to feel him deeper, but the slight pain forces you to take it slowly. But your hand starts to push him closer to you as a mix of whimpers and moans leave you. Oberyn stretches you further and further and your eyes roll into the back of your head.

With one final, powerful thrust, Oberyn conquers your tight hole and moans loudly. You cry out briefly, but the pain quickly subsides and gives way to pure pleasure. You realise how completely filled you are. Daemon and Oberyn are now thrusting in unison and you are trapped in their grips – and you don't want it to end. You put your head back and Oberyn immediately turns his attention back to your neck. He bites in lightly as he thrusts into your tight hole.

"Gods... Gods... fuck..." leaves his lips again and again.

With a primal instinct, he grabs your hips and slides closer to you. His thrusts now go deeper. He savours your tightness and the pleasure he brings you. The sound of your soft cries and moans fill the air as Daemon and Oberyn thrust into you, driving them both even further into a state of primal lust.

Daemon's hand is still on your thigh, lifting it slightly as he thrusts into your cunt. Oberyn's fingers grip your hips tighter as his thrusts penetrate you from behind.

Daemon grunts to himself, feeling the unusual resistance on his cock every time Oberyn thrusts into you and it turns him on. He thrusts harder and feels your cunt literally pulsating. His hand slides from your thigh to your breast, gripping it tightly as his lips slam onto yours. A wild kiss, accompanied by whimpers and moans, unfolds between you.

Your foot slides to the back of his thigh, wanting to pull him closer, needing to feel him deeper.

Daemon breathes heavily and grunts as your kiss ends. His eyes are fixated on the sight of you taking Oberyn's cock up your ass as he continues to fuck your cunt. The combination of your actions, the raw lust emanating from you, elicits a primal moan from deep within him.

With each thrust, he feels the lust building inside him and the need for release becomes almost unbearable. But he wants to savour this moment, savour your pleasure, revel in the intoxicating connection you share. Daemon's hand lets go of your breast and slides to your leg again.

His grip is firm and so are his thrusts, which become more intense and violent. The sound of your moans and the beginning trembling of your thighs only fuel his desire and bring him even closer to the edge.

You feel that you are about to come. The sensation of being filled in both holes is almost too much and you feel the familiar pressure spreading through your abdomen.

"Yes... Come on my cock," Daemon grunts, " Show me how good it feels for you to be filled like this," he grunts as his cock starts to twitch dangerously as well. Oberyn starts grunting behind you. He can feel your whole abdomen literally start to clench. His hand slides from your hip to your warm core. You look down, breathing heavily, and see Daemon thrusting into you and Oberyn's fingers begin to rub your clit. You are a moaning mess. The pressure inside you becomes almost unbearable.

"Be an obedient wife... come while our cocks fill you," Oberyn grunts in your ear as his fingers rub faster.

You only whimper, followed by a loud moan.

"I'm going to fill you up, princess... My seed will fill this tight hole," Oberyn grunts further, thrusting deeper.

And then you come, your cunt clenches around Daemon's cock, milking him and driving him over the edge with you. He growls and grunts loudly, pumping his cum deep into your cunt with deep thrusts.

Oberyn follows shortly after you and dresses your dark walls in white. He bites the back of your neck and immerses himself in the sensation. The grips on your body are firm, the feeling wonderful.

You whimper softly as the grunting around you slowly dies down. There is a smell of sweat and sex in the air. Heavy breathing echoes off the walls. Your light whimpers come to a climax as the two of them slowly pull out of you. Exhausted, you let yourself sink against Daemon's chest while Oberyn lies on his back, breathing heavily. His hand rests on your bum, stroking it gently.

"Maybe I should visit King's Landing more often after all..." mumbles Oberyn as he looks up at the ceiling.

Your eyes are closed, but instead of a reply, you hear a slight chuckle from Daemon.

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Tag list:

@hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemonds-eyeball @praline357 @melsunshine @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @lauftivy @valeskafics @sylasthegrim @dreamlandcreations @hopelesswritergall @wetbitchlibrary @arcielee @just-some-random-blogger @softyhwrt @bl4ckph0enix

#daemon targaryen #prince daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen x niece!reader #daemon targaryen x targaryen!reader #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon smut #daemon stannies #matt smith #oberyn martell smut #oberyn martell #prince oberyn #prince daemon #the rogue prince #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn smut #prince oberyn martell #hotd smut

[ghouljams]

There is No Pavement, My Love

Professor Love makes an observation, Professor Riley misinterprets it.

"I'd like to add your book to my syllabus." Love says leaning against Ghost's desk. He glances up from his grading, his eyes darting between the way she pushes her tits out and the way she smiles, before returning his attention to his work.

He'd worried about this after the conference. He already had enough requests rotting in his inbox for reprintings of his book. The whole thing was more trouble than it was worth, raised more heartache than he ever wanted it to. It was better left buried with the rest of his past.

"No."

"Why not?" He can hear her pouting, he stuffs down the smile it threatens to raise in him. How is it one woman can be such a balm for his melancholy?

"Never find enough copies," he circles a glaring comma splice and underlines a misquote, "it's out of print."

"Well then it's a good thing someone uploaded all of it to the internet in pdf form." Love wiggles in her seat, attempting to draw his attention again. Ghost gives a quick glance, his eyes fixing on the strained buttons on her shirt. Weak. He is a weak, weak, man. Always has been, that's exactly why he's in this mess in the first place.

"Cheeky little thing aren't you." He looks away, but his voice is thick and labidinous. The soft noise Love lets out make him think it's not an unwelcome tone. Cheeky indeed. She leans a little more heavily against his desk.

"What about just the forward?"

Ghost sets down his pen, taking off his spectacles and laying them neatly beside it. He knits his fingers together and rests his hands heavily on the papers he'd been grading.

"Why do you want to teach my book?" He asks, leaning to match her pose.

"Mostly just the forward," Love amends. Ghost shakes his head with a smile, drags his teeth over the scar splitting his lip before he can look at her again.

"Why do you want to teach my forward?" He asks again.

"Its a love letter."

Ghost freezes, his brain running through every word of his book looking for anything that could be interpreted as something so... romantic.

"Explain," he grunts, crossing his arms over his chest as he sits back in his chair. Love blinks, her expression softening in a way that makes Ghost feel like he's dying. His heart clenches in his chest. He squeezes his bicep, his fingers tight to keep himself from pulling her over the desk. If he could kiss that sad softness out of her smile he would. She laces her fingers together.

"My mum lived through Hell every day of her marriage to my father, I wish I could rest comfortably knowing she's somewhere better, but then I wouldn't be here, and neither would you." Love recites, and some long dormant crack in Ghost's chest aches. Her voice is softer, when she speaks again, and that hurts all the worse, "You spend 250 pages talking about grief and our comfort in the afterlife; talking about your time in the service, and losing people. Just because you wanted to make sense of your mum's death. How is that not a love letter?"

Ghost swallows the lump that threatens to choke him. He fixes his eyes on hers, hard and unyielding even when he can see sincerity shining through her expression. He can't stand it. Tenderness is a privilege, she should never assume such a softness about him.

"It's a book," He tells her firmly, "one that's better off buried."

"It's part of you," She tries, "an important one."

"If you're done teasin' me,"

"I'm not-

"You can get out," Ghost powers through her objection, nods towards the door. Love opens her mouth and her raises a brow, "Go on, be cute for someone else."

There's a hurt in her eyes when she closes her mouth, her lips drawing together tight. It hurts as much as Ghost thought it would, but he can't have her poking around at scars like this. There's too much about her he should have nipped in the bud, too much he's let her get away with, too much he's deluded himself into hoping for, she can't have this too. She can't think he's more than he is.

She stands, and shuts the door tight behind her.

And it's worse somehow.

#simon ghost riley #x oc #cod x oc #ghost mw2 #simon riley #simon riley x oc #ghost x oc #mw2 ghost #ghost cod #ghost mwii #professor!Ghost #professor au #is it really a slow burn if it doesn't hurt a little bit? #oc: love #I'll fix it in the next one #Ghost is tender about his trauma but who isn't?

[snzleclerc]

pizza date !

cl masterlist

summary: you met a cute guy at the pizzeria, and what was supposed to be just a conversation might lead to a committed relationship. *translated italian!!

charles leclerc x italian! reader

I make my way to "La ricetta di Giovanni," a calm and tranquil pizzeria in the beautiful city of Positano, and from a distance, I can smell the delightful aroma of tomato sauce.

Upon entering the establishment, which is composed of bricks painted in a brown hue, dim yellow lights, small plants scattered around, tables with classic red and white tablecloths, ambient music, I feel a huge sense of peace and joy. Some people, mostly couples, are scattered around the tables engaged in long conversations, and the sound of cutlery on plates fills the air.

"Buona notte, bellissima! Qual è il piano per la serata?" ("Good evening, beautiful! What's the plan for tonight?") the voice of Martina, the best bartender in town, reaches my ears.

"Come sta Tina? Come al solito! E un bicchiere di vino, per favore!" ("How's Tina? The usual! And a glass of wine, please!") I reply, heading towards a table in the somewhat empty corner of the restaurant, with a beautiful view of the quiet streets.

The view is lovely and all, but what I can't help but notice the most is the beauty of the man sitting in front of me, a few tables away. My myopia doesn't help, but I notice his tousled brown hair and handsome face.

He seems to be in the same situation as me, alone and waiting for his order, and I wished he really was alone. Without a girlfriend.

Noticing more and more, his light gray shirt with a few buttons emphasizes his muscles which are crossed on his chest, he looks like a god.

I could analyze him all night long, until he slowly turns his head towards me, realizing my fixed gaze on him. I try to look away, but he smiles and shows his dimples, making me blush deeply.

God bless Filippo, the waiter who arrives with my wine and glass just in time before the man would see me redder than the wine itself.

I thank him and see that the man calls him to his table, I try to look curiously, but unfortunately, the waiter ends up blocking my view.

I pick up the wine and pour it into the beautiful glass I drink from, exchanging a few more glances with the man, now that Filippo has left.

A few moments later, the one who had just left returns with a new glass of wine and places it on my table, without saying anything. I try to understand what was happening, until I see a figure approaching me, wearing the same clothes I noticed before.

And when I least expect it, the handsome man is in front of me.

"Posso unirmi a voi?" ("Can I join you?") He asks me politely. "Sì, certo che sì" ("Yes, of course") I reply nervously, but with a smile on my face, adjusting my green dress.

He pulls the chair in front of me gently and sits down, resting his elbows on the table and analyzing me with a smile, making me smile back.

"Posso sapere il nome di questa bella signora seduta di fronte a me?" ("Can I know the name of this beautiful lady sitting in front of me?") His voice is like music to my ears. I notice his round glasses that perfectly match his face. "Giorgia. And yours, my dear?" I reply.

"Charles." He says and I let out a slight laugh through my nose. "What's wrong?" He asks with a little smile on his face. Oh, those dimples. "Charles..." I stop and think for a moment. "Sounds like a spoiled name." I add and we laugh in sync.

"But do I look spoiled?" He analyzes me more and I only see perfection. Green eyes, a beard grown but not long, the smell of expensive perfume...

"A little bit, but I'm not sure about your character." I stare into his deep eyes, the ones that could drive me crazy in a few seconds.

"Well, you can find out now." He says leaning in more over the table. "What brings you here?"

"I live here." I say looking around. "I recently ended a relationship, I needed to clear my head."

"Then I think it's important for us to get to know each other more tonight, huh?" Charles tells me with a smile, well... provocative. And I do nothing but the same.

Let's see what happens.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #italy #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fanfic #lando norris #daniel ricciardo #pizzalover #charles leclerc #arthur leclerc #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #leo leclerc #milan #cl16 x reader #cl16 #charles lecrelc #oneshot

[grimesgirll]

you couldn't help but stare when rick and daryl got dressed.

they were typically racing off somewhere early every morning or daryl was slipping out to wake up before the deer, so most mornings you woke up to an empty bed and started your routine yourself. whenever you complained about this to rick, he would just ruffle your hair and tease, "we all can't run on beauty sleep."

this morning was different though; daryl's dip in the bed and rick untucking his arm from around your waist roused you before anything else. your eyes flicker open to see daryl hauling himself to the en suite bathroom while rick walks around into your line of vision.

the sheriff is tugging his pants on, and you can’t tear your eyes away. not that you had a reason to, besides modesty. you spectate as rick adjusts himself in his pants, pulling on a belt from his top dresser drawer.

you can’t help but finding yourself licking your lips and doing a nice wide stretch. rick doesn’t notice you as you recline on your elbows to watch as he begins to button his shirt.

behind him, the toilet flushes and you see daryl through the cracked door. his jeans ease over his hips and you're realizing how much you saw him shirtless more often. outside of the bedroom and fucking you, he rarely stripped down in any capacity. you wished that would change; you couldn't get enough of him in any capacity.

chocolate tousled curls moused up from the night before, rick looks amazing, given what the world had put him through by forty. your eyes glaze over as he slides his watch on and you feel a tingle from down under.

a blush creeps on your face and you're having trouble keeping your thoughts clean. how could you him dressing in front of you and daryl in the bathroom?

you imagine what he must've looked like fresh out of the academy, young and handsome. still was handsome, not anywhere close to your age though.

the man breaks you out of your thoughts when he catches you staring and you just smile sheepishly at him. "look who decided to wake up."

"you should fuck me since i'm up early."

"'that a challenge?" rick raises an eyebrow. you shake your head yes and rick is sitting on the bed, snapping back the duvet to snake his hand up your bare thigh and crooking a finger into you. it's not as hard as he thought, smiling as he easily jostles another finger into you. "you wake up this horny, darlin'?"

"mhmm," you confirm.

"this the," he does an air quote inside of you, "'lady boner' daryl was talkin' about."

"you're looking at it."

the older man chuckles. the curl of his finger works a groan out of you and its hard to focus. your eyes linger on the doorway. when is daryl coming out? you muse, wanting to see your favorite archer - maybe even beneath you.

your thoughts jolt back to rick who has added another finger despite the resistance from your tight cunt. "what a stretch," you breathe shakily.

"think you can stretch a bit more than this."

"think i can cum on your fingers?"

rick laughs. “you think since you’re awake for once you deserve to cum?”

"please!"

"you wanna start your day off cummin' on my fingers?"

you nod your head vigorously.

"go ahead, baby."

tipping your head back, you babble and clench around rick's fingers. a distorted moan comes from your throat when he adds some pressure to your clit to pleasure you through your orgasm. it's all made even better by how rick is gazing at you with darkened blue eyes, like playing with your clit is the perfect way to start off his morning before he has to go on watch.

you may have to start waking up earlier.

"'fuck did i miss?"

#the walking dead #twd imagine #rick grimes imagine #daryl dixon imagine #rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #daryl dixon x reader #not beta read #daryl dixon #rick grimes smut #rick x reader #rick x you #rick grimes x you #still getting the hang of writing smut #daryl's around #established relationship #extremely tame voyerurism #rickyl x reader #rickyl #ricky dicky doo da grimes #grimesgirll

[ickadori]

fluff. reader is wearing a dress but is otherwise gn.

You’re touches were too soft—too gentle, too fleeting, too careful.

You treated Wriothesley as if the softest touch from you could add to the barrage of scars littering his body. His skin was thick, hard, and calloused from years of a life that wasn’t all that kind to him, yet you ghosted your fingers along his skin as if it was wet paper, ready to tear and rip at the slightest bit of pressure.

It was new to him, a tad strange, too, but not unwelcome.

Not in the slightest.

++

A cotton ball soaked in antiseptic lightly dabs at the scrapes and cuts on the side of his neck, courtesy of one of the newer inmates that had gotten a bit squirrelly on the long elevator ride down and chose to lash out at the welcoming committee. Tch.

He had been anticipating the sting that often came when the cotton ball got its time to shine, but you had made sure to grab the bottle that housed the no-sting variety, which was typically used for the more whiny patients.

Your face is screwed up in concentration as you dab at his skin, and Wriothesley breathes in deep through his nose, your scent crawling up his nostrils and wrapping around him in a vice-like grip.

You’re close … so close that he can count your individual eyelashes, see the dark freckles that decorate the skin underneath your eyes, smell the tea on your breath (Earl Grey, a gift from him) along with the biscuit you must have had for breakfast along with it (also a gift from him).

He can feel the heat from you radiating off of you and warming him, and he can feel the weight of your dreas (a colorful, frilly thing gifted to you by Sigewinne. It was abominable on its own, but when you wore it, it seemed like everyone else paled in comparison) swishing against his tensed calves.

“You’re tense. Does it hurt?” You fingers smooth the bandage over his injuries, and then you’re lifting your head so you can meet his gaze. There’s a tightening in his chest, and his fingers itch to try and smooth the uncomfortable feeling away.

“No, it’s fine.” He cranes his neck from side to side, joints popping in response, and his eyebrows pull in at the stinging that results from the fresh cuts pulling.

“Are you sure? I can prescribe you a mild sedative - Ms. Sigwinne just mixed a new batch.” You go to, presumably, get the sedative, and Wriothesley moves before he thinks, hand darting out to gently grab ahold of your wrist. Your skin is warm underneath his, and there’s a tingle on his palm from where his skin meets yours. “Your Grace?”

“That won’t be necessary. I’m fine, really.” He gives you a reassuring smile, a part of him touched that you care so much. “These are kitten scratches compared to the rest of me.” Your eyes flit about the deep scars littering his body, and a foreign stroke of insecurity starts simmering in his gut.

He had always been somewhat proud in all the scars etched into his skin, their presence showcasing all the fights he had made it alive out of, and had never once thought to cover them up out of shame. But now, with your gaze sweeping over him, he struggled not to slip on his discarded coat and button it up to his chin.

You would never judge him —Gods, never. You were the sweetest thing under and above the sea— but insecurity always had a way to riddle you with paranoia.

“Kitchen scratches..” You repeat, eyebrows burrowing, and he can’t help the way his hand lifts so he can smooth his thumb over them. “You’re a very strong man, Wriothesley.” The sound of his name had never warmed his heart until you began to say it. “But I really wish you wouldn’t brush off your injuries so easily.” You gently fuss, fingers moving to trace over an old scar that peeks out from his shirt collar. “But I guess I shouldn’t scold you too much, you did come to the infirmary this time, after all.”

“Of course I did, you threatened to throw me out into the sea the last time I got hurt and didn’t come to see you.” He chuckles at the memory of your threat, and you bashfully look away and begin fiddling with the tray of medical supplies on the side table.

“Y-You gave me no choice!” You defend. “It worries me when you get hurt and lock yourself away in your office.” Wriothesley tries and fails to subdue a smile. “Why’re you smiling?”

“No reason,” you worry. You huff out an ‘I’m serious!’, and he reaches out to place a steadying hand over your fidgeting ones. Your eyes snap up to his, your lips parting on a soft exhale, and there’s a heat at the tip of his ears. “I’m sorry for making you worry about me.”

“It’s fine… it is my job, after all.”

“Even so,” you don’t move to pull your hand from under his, and he holds onto it just a bit tighter. “I suppose I should be a gentleman and compensate you for all the worrying.”

“It’s my job—”

“The off the clock worrying.” He clarifies, and your mouth shuts when he gives a pointed glance to the empty infirmary.

“…I guess I could use a few coupons.”

“Oh please, I think I can do a bit better than a few measly coupons - we’ll have dinner together.” Your eyebrows nearly shoot up into your hairline. “If that’s alright with you.” He fumbles.

“Oh, uh, yes! It is, of course it is!” A wide smile spreads across your face before you quickly dim it down, gaze trialing off to the side before finally coming back to meet his. “I mean, sure, that’d be fine.” He covers up a laugh with a cough, a smile that would have nearly rivaled yours blooming on his face.

“Great. I can’t wait.”

#wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff

[helaintoloki]

Relenting

pairing: sparrow!ben x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of death, sparrow!ben is an asshole as usual, some fluff if you squint

notes: haven’t posted on this blog in forever but the new teaser brought me back from the dead so here’s this

summary: the world is ending and ben thinks it’s time to enjoy what’s left of it

You swirl the glass of champagne in your hand and watch as the alcohol begins to whirl around the cup. There’s a slight breeze in the air, but it’s warm and strangely comforting despite the current circumstances. The music from inside faintly reaches your ears out on the balcony, and though you feel slightly guilty for missing out on such a momentous occasion for Luther and Sloane, you can’t bring yourself to go back inside. What’s the point? Your time on this earth is limited, dwindling with each second that passes, so why bother trying to act like it isn’t.

An unwelcome presence joins your sulking figure outside, and you don’t even bother to spare him a passing glance. You think you hate him, or at least you want to hate him, but it’s hard to despise the man who shares the face of your long lost love. Blame it on nostalgia or pathetic longing, but there’s still some small part of you that believes he could be just like the boy you knew and loved in your youth, even if he hasn’t shown it at all in the time you’ve gotten to know him.

Finally acknowledging his presence, you take a swig of your champagne before retorting, “Don’t you have to go be an asshole somewhere else?”

“You’re hilarious,” he replies in a deadpan tone, and you don’t have to look at him to see that he’s rolling his eyes in annoyance. You like how easily you get under his skin, and his sarcastic remark prompts the smallest quirk of your lips.

“Yeah?” You reiterate with a small shrug, eager to push his buttons in any way you can. “My Ben used to think so too.”

“Would you shut up about ‘your’ Ben, already? It’s pathetic,” He snaps in irritation, obviously set off by your remarks. “All you do is whine and complain about what a jerk I am instead of realizing I could help you out if you’d just help me.”

“By pretending to be your dead girlfriend? No thanks,” you scoff with a wry laugh before downing the rest of your drink. It burns your throat, but the discomfort is almost soothing in a way. It’s a type of pain you can control and inflict upon yourself out of your own volition. You haven’t been in control of anything since becoming wrapped up in all this apocalypse time travel nonsense, and you grapple for any semblance of it whenever possible.

“It’s not pretending if you technically are her,” the Sparrow insists adamantly, faltering for a moment as he adds under his breath, “albeit a more whiney and uptight version of her.”

He immediately ducks when you chuck your glass in his direction, narrowly missing his head in the process. You wish you had Diego’s precision so you could hit the desired target of his face, but the look of bewilderment on his features is good enough for now. You wordlessly turn to head back inside and rejoin the wedding festivities, because forcing yourself to act like attending wedding at the end of the world is normal is much better than spending another second out here with him, but his firm grip on your wrist halts your movements. If you really wanted to you could break free from his hold, you’re a better fighter than he is and you could easily use your abilities to overpower him, but you make no attempt to do so. The touch is familiar, comforting despite how hard you try to deny it, and you’d like to savor it even if it’s not right.

“The world is ending, and there’s no going back,” he reminds you, the gentleness of his voice almost scaring you. It’s a jarring contrast from the usual sharpness that he speaks to you with, and you’re not sure if it disgusts or comforts you. He sounds like your Ben now, and the realization prompts your breath to hitch in your throat.

“What do you want from me?” You demand with a lack of conviction, your previous confidence dwindling as you morph back into that same scared little girl who once thought she could never survive without the boy she loved.

“I want to spend whatever time I have left on this shit hole with my y/n, even though I know it’s not really her,” the Sparrow relents in defeat as he comes to terms with his fate. “Don’t you want to spend one last night with Ben?”

You remain silent, your lips held together in a firm line and your brows creased in thought as you digest his words. This man is not yours, not even close, but he belonged to another version of you in this timeline, a version that is currently buried six feet underground. This entire time you’ve done your best to fight the urge to give in to him, to let yourself play pretend with the Sparrow and act as if tragedy had never struck the Umbrella Academy. With the world coming to an end, did it really matter now if you finally relented to his pleas? Didn’t you deserve to be happy, too?

Taking your silence as rejection, Ben slowly begins to release his hold on you. However, he’s taken by surprise when you immediately throw yourself into his embrace and pull his face towards you for a kiss. He doesn’t notice the tears that streak down your cheeks or the way your hands tremble as you cup his face; he’s too busy savoring the taste of something that had been taken from his years ago.

As he wraps his arms tighter around your waist, he determines that this time around, he’s not letting go.

#oh my god i haven’t written anything tua related in years #the umbrella academy #ben hargreeves #sparrow!ben #ben hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves imagine #sparrow!ben x reader #sparrow!ben imagine #tua #tua x reader #tua imagine #sparrow academy

[asoulwithadream]

EXCLUSIVE FALL PREVIEWS

Mates. LADS. BRETHEREN.

I think I'm going to die now. AAAAAAAAAAAAH—

BUT OF COURSE WHAT WOULD BE THE SENSE OF MY EXISTENCE IF I DIDN'T SHARE MY OWN PERSONAL THOUGHTS ON THESE BEAUTIFUL THINGS BEFORE THE MEDICINE KICKS IN.

The Crew — I think this is where they see LUCIUS!!!! I'm so very convinced this is where they meet Lucius. As we can see, they're all in the same clothing as the Vanity Fair first looks, where Black Pete is visibly overjoyed. But can't you see that he is missing from this shot? Probably snogging Lucius' face off or hugging him or doing something as such.

Lucius probably popped around the corner in the Vanity Fair one, and now they're sharing an intimate moment (keeping it PG) on deck while the rest of the happy crew watches on (as visible from Roach's, Oluwande's, and Wee John's faces). Of course, Buttons has no interest in human adoration, and instead looks on towards his own lover, the sea.

Stede is looking quite perplexed, or maybe contemplatively—perhaps as a result of Lucius telling Stede what happened to him. He doesn't look directly all that happy, does he?

(OMG OMG OMG WHY DO THEY ALL LOOK SO HAPPY EXCEPT STEDE BUT OLU YOU DEAREST MAN AND THEY'RE LOOKING SNAZZY AND I LOVE THEIR SOCKS I'M AHHAHASIJDHKAE)

Stede — That's the floor of the Revenge guys. I know it well since the last time Stede was pushed onto it. (Solidarity for the harm that the foot touch caused in these trying times) He is wearing what looks to be ye olde fencing gloves, and this means that was just handling a sword. (Though, he could have been using the cannons; we all know Stede would probably confuse fencing gloves for heavy artillery)

There are a few scenarios I can find at the top of my head: he's either training with Izzy (though would that explain his terrified expression? maybe)—we also see the lack of the red ribbon, which I think he removed when he teams up with Izzy, for whatever reason—or he's been duelling with someone else, someone who is extremely better at swordsmanship, someone we know to have been excellent at both maiming and receiving stab wounds. Has he been fighting with Edward?

I think it's the former, but who knows? The best part of theorising is being wrong, after all. I guess we can just gang up and say "calm down mr wavey blade" to whoever is behind this. Plus, do I see traced of some fuzz on his chin? Confirmed baby steard, guys???

(He's such an ICON I WANT TO BREATHE HIS HAIR AND SEE IT BEHIND MY EYELIDS. In the wise words of Rhys Darby, "I wish I had his hair". BUT LIKE HONESTLY WHAT'S GOING ON HERE WHY DOES HE LOOK LIKE HE'S SEEN A GHOST)

Frenchie and Ed — This has me on actual alarm bells mode. I can't tell whether or not this is Blackbeard or post-Blackbeard era—he's not wearing any dark chunky make-up, and has his hair up in his classic, beautiful half-up half-down, and we finally get a more close-up and clear shot of his earring, which we first spotted from the Vanity Fair first looks?

A detail I spotted for Frenchie's new goth uniform, which he is still wearing in this shot (further confusing me on the timeline of this image)—I think that his jacket is the very same from the "The Best Revenge Is Dressing Well" episode, which is so incredibly sweet and a beautiful little detail to connect back to season 1. I'd like to think he customised it himself, since we know Frenchie can "sew like the wind."

That's also still the Revenge, in fact the very spot where Lucius was about to get his finger cut off in "The Art of F**kery". But what intent Ed has with this confrontation with Frenchie, who seemingly looks like perhaps he wasn't even doing anything wrong, escapes the depth of my theoretical mind. What contributes even less to this is that Ed is smiling? Rather maniacal, might I add.

(WHAT. THE. FUCK. help me why is this happening. I LIKE AM SO ANGRY AND SO HAPPY AT THE SAME TIME THAT I CAN'T FIGURE ANYTHING OUT FROM THIS PICTURE. NOT EVEN WHAT STAGE OF GRIEF ED IS IN. HELP ME)

Edward — That chair looks like it's from Stede's room, from one of the desk-like tables in the corner next to his bed, and perhaps even the only chair which Ed kept in the room after his rather ill-tasted renovations. What's he doing there without his make-up on? Perhaps this is still during the early stages of new Blackbeard, and he's just in the transit period between washing and re-application.

BUT, if we look at the background, does that look like the Revenge? Not really... There is what seems like a fireplace or some sort of stone plate in the background, with a painting on it with a man on the left side of the composition, who seemingly looks to have lighter coloured hair. So what I may be thinking, is that Edward is visiting MARY ALLAMBY! The painting in the background may be the one from Stede and Mary's wedding, and Mary might have kept it as memorabilia in ode of her now good friend. (Stede is on the left in that painting). Plus, where else would Stede get his furniture and taste for his bedroom than his own former house, which Mary currently lives at?

Even though I think David Jenkins said that Mary wouldn't be present in the season, do I believe him? No. I think I have the right for me to be delusional without external interference at this point.

(Please let me be right please let me be right I NEED A MARY / ED INTERACTION AT SOME POINT TO HEAL MY HEART. I need Mary to realise that fucking Blackbeard is the Ed that Stede was talking about, I NEED ED TO THINK THAT STEDE DIED, FOR EVEN A MOMENT. I think my brain has stopped receiving oxygen.)

Send hopes and prayers

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 speculation #ofmd s2 theories #ofmd fall previews #ofmd teaser #ofmd vanity fair #edward teach #ed teach #blackbeard #stede bonnet #crew of the revenge #lucius spriggs #mary allamby bonnet #rhys darby #taika waititi #david jenkins #i need desperate help and assistance in these trying times #how am i supposed to live laugh love in these conditions

[hockeylovee12]

Crossing Enemy Lines

Chapter Four

Luke Hughes x Original Character

Warnings:Cursing

November 13th, 2023

The shrill sound of an alarm pierces through Luke’s dreams startling him awake. 

He groans, burying his head into the soft hotel pillow, trying to drown out the noise. 

Just as he’s about to drift off again, he feels a hand on his shoulder shaking him awake. 

“Luke come on man, we got less than 15 minutes until we need to be downstairs for team breakfast!” Alex urges, his voice carrying a pressing tone, behind the thick Swedish accent. 

Luke’s eyes snap open, taking a moment to process his roommate's words, “Shit, okay, I’m up, I’m up” he mumbles, throwing the covers off his body and stumbling out of bed. 

Luke rushes to the bathroom, quickly brushing his teeth, and relieving himself, before throwing on a pair of jeans and a hoodie. 

He quickly grabs his phone and room key and meets Alex by the door. The two make their way down to the hotel restaurant with less than a minute to spare. 

The room is already buzzing with activity as teammates scatter around various tables, loading up their plates with eggs, bacon, and an assortment of fruits and pastries. 

Luke and Alex grab their food, and find two seats at a table, with Jack, Dawson, Nate, Nico, Jesper, and Timo. 

"Well, well, well, look who decided to grace us with their presence," Dawson teases as Luke and Alex sit down. 

“Shut it, Mercer. Not all of us can be morning people like you.” Luke grumbles, shoveling a forkful of eggs into his mouth. 

“Ignore him Hughesy,” Nate chimes in, a teasing smile plastered across his lips “He’s just jealous because he knows he’ll never be as pretty as you, even with a few extra minutes of beauty sleep.” 

The table erupts with laughter, and the conversation flows easily as they eat, discussing  t he drills they'll most likely run during practice, which is set to begin shortly after they finish their meal.

Then talk shifts to their upcoming game against the Red Wings, set for later tonight. 

“Nico, you think you can sneak a few extra pucks past Lyon tonight?” Jack asks, nudging the Devils captain. 

Nico grins “I’ll do my best.” 

“Hopefully tonight’s not another shitshow like Thursday against the Rangers” Dawson murmurs. 

The mention of the Rangers causes a slight pang in Luke’s chest, his mind immediately drifting to Jordan. 

He discretely pulls his phone out, hiding it under the table, scrolling through his notifications, searching for a response to the message he had sent her last night. 

Nothing. 

His heart sinks a little as he stares at the screen wishing for a little blue dot to appear next to her name. 

“Who you texting Rusty? Your girlfriend?” Nate teases, leaning closer to try and catch a glimpse of Luke’s phone. 

Luke quickly presses the side button, causing the screen to go black, and shoves the phone back into his pocket. “No one, and I don’t have a girlfriend.” Luke mutters

“Ooh, someone’s getting defensive. I think he has a girl” Nate grins, earning a few chuckles from the rest of the table. 

"Come on, Hughesy, spill the beans," Dawson chimes in, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Who's the lucky lady?"

“There’s no lucky lady, I don’t have a girlfriend, now drop it” Luke states

“Come on boys, leave the kid alone” Timo interjects “If he says there's no girl, then there's no girl."

“Besides we have more important things to focus on, like tonight's game” Nico adds

There’s a murmur of agreement around the table before the conversation shifts back to hockey. 

But Luke can’t shake the feeling of  disappointment settling in his stomach

He sent the text 11 hours ago. Why hasn’t she texted back? Is it too late? Was it all just in his head?

He shakes his head, trying to regain his focus as the rest of the team finish their breakfast, his appetite suddenly lost. 

But even as he moves in sync with the rest of his teammates, placing their dishes in their designated spot, and moving towards the lobby, where they prepare to take their team bus to the rink, he can't fully ignore the dull ache in his chest, the nagging sense that he might have already lost his chance with Jordan before it even really began.

*****

The clock reads 11:03 AM when Jordan’s eyes finally flutter open. She reaches for her phone squinting at the bright screen as she unlocks it.

A text from her long time best friend Brooke, sent late last night, catches her attention first. She quickly types out a response, promising to call her later. 

As she hits send, she navigates back to the inbox on iMessages, when another notification catches her eye. 

Her heart skips a beat looking at the blue dot next to Luke’s name and a timestamp reading 10:43PM.

With trembling fingers, she opens the text, her breath catching in her throat as she reads the two simple words: I’m sorry. 

A flurry of emotions wash over her-relief, happiness, nervousness. 

She sits up in her bed, her mind racing as she tries to craft the perfect response.

It's okay, she types out, then immediately deletes it. Is it okay? She's not sure.

Me too, she tries, but that sounds too dry. 

I’m sorry, Luke.  No that’s too formal, and literally the same thing he said. 

After a few more attempts she settles on Me too, can we talk? Her heart pounds as she hits send, the weight of the words hanging heavy in the air.

She stares at her phone, waiting for the three little dots to appear. But as the minutes tick by, the screen remains frustratingly blank. 

Jordan tries to distract herself, scrolling through social media, checking her email, even getting up to pace around her room. But every few seconds, her eyes dart back to her phone, hoping to see a response from Luke.

Thirty minutes pass. Then an hour. Still nothing.

A sigh escapes her lips as she realizes she can’t spend the entire day waiting for him to text back. 

She goes through the motions of her morning routine-brushing her teeth, washing her face, getting dressed-but the whole time her mind is preoccupied with thoughts of Luke. 

A sigh escapes her lips as she finally forces herself out of bed, realizing that she can't spend the entire day waiting for a text that might never come. She goes through the motions of her morning routine - brushing her teeth, washing her face, getting dressed - but her mind is still preoccupied with thoughts of Luke.

*****

After a draining morning skate, Luke showers and changes at the rink, before hopping in an uber with Jack, Nate, Alex, Dawson and John, to grab some lunch. 

They arrive at a local restaurant, settling into a booth and placing their orders.

As soon as the waiter leaves, Luke pulls out his phone, his heart skipping a beat when he sees a text from Jordan.

Jordan: Me too. Can we talk?

Luke quickly types out a response.

Luke: I’d like that. 

Jordan's reply is almost instant.

I’m glad you texted

Luke: Me too, I’m really sorry about the way things played out, hockey been a huge part of my life, for well forever and I just let it cloud my judgment when I shouldn’t have

Jack nudges Luke, raising an eyebrow. "What's got you smiling at your phone like that?"

Dawson leans over, trying to catch a glimpse of the screen. "Texting your girlfriend again, Rusty?"

Luke rolls his eyes, quickly locking his phone. "No, just one of my friends. I don't have a girlfriend, Dawson."

Dawson holds up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Just asking."

Luke's phone beeps again, and he can't resist checking the message.

Jordan: It’s okay, I get things are a little complicated, but I’m not my brother, and I like you alot. 

Luke's heart races as he reads her words, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

Luke: I like you too, and I promise from here on out, I won’t treat you like that. 

Their food arrives, and Luke manages to grab a fry while still keeping his eyes glued to his phone. The conversation around him fades into the background as he focuses on his text exchange with Jordan.

Jordan: Thanks Luke, so what do we do now? 

Luke: We'll figure it out. Maybe we could start with dinner? Just the two of us?

He holds his breath as he waits for her response, absently taking a bite of his burger.

Jordan: I'd like that.

Luke’s about to type another text, when Jack snatches the phone from his hand. 

Luke looks up, frustrated and meets his brother's eyes. 

“Dude what the hell!” Luke protests, reaching for his phone. 

But Jack holds it out of reach and powers it down, “Finish eating then you can have it back” 

Luke sighs, looking around the table which has silenced a bit, causing him to flush slightly as he  realizes most of his teammates have finished most of his meals, whereas he’s only taken a singular bite of his burger, and a few fries. 

“Fine” Luke grumbles, turning his attention back to his plate, and taking another bite of his burger. 

The conversation around the table picks up again, as John starts talking about the movie trailer for the new Hunger Games that came out a few days ago.

"Did you guys see the trailer for the Hunger Games movie?" John asks, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Yeah, I did!" Dawson exclaims, "The movie came out a few days ago, yeah?”

“Yeah it did, think the 17th I’m waiting to watch it” John says

"I haven't seen it yet," Alex admits, "I actually haven't seen any of the Hunger Games movies."

The entire table goes silent, and everyone turns to stare at Alex in disbelief.

"Wait, what?" Nate asks, his jaw dropping, "You've never seen the Hunger Games? Like, any of them?"

Alex shrugs, looking a bit sheepish, "No"

"Oh, man," Jack laughs, shaking his head, "you're missing out. Those movies are classics."

"Seriously, Alex," Luke chimes in, "you've gotta watch them. The first one, especially. It's a game-changer."

"Pun intended?" Dawson grins, and the whole table groans at the terrible joke.

"Okay, okay," Alex holds up his hands in surrender, "I'll add it to my list. But you guys have to promise not to spoil anything for me."

"No promises," Nate teases, "I might 'accidentally' let something slip, just to see your reaction."

"You wouldn't dare," Alex narrows his eyes, pointing a warning finger at Nate.

"I don't know, man," John smirks, "I think it would be pretty hilarious to watch you freak out over plot twists that everyone else already knows about."

"I hate you guys," Alex grumbles, but there's a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Aw, come on, you love us," John grins, reaching over to ruffle Alex's hair.

Alex swats his hand away, but he's laughing now too, "Yeah, yeah. But seriously, no spoilers. I want to experience the movies for myself."

"Fair enough," Nate concedes, "but you better watch them soon. We're gonna need someone to geek out with over the new one."

"I'll get right on that," Alex promises, "but only if you guys agree to watch my favorite movie with me in return."

"Depends," Dawson says, eyeing Alex suspiciously, "what's your favorite movie?"

"The Notebook," Alex replies, with a completely straight face.

There's a beat of silence, and then the entire table bursts out laughing.

"Oh my god," Nate wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes, "can you imagine? A bunch of hockey players sitting around, crying over The Notebook?"

"Hey, don't knock it till you've tried it," Alex defends, but he's grinning too, clearly enjoying the reaction he's gotten.

"Alright, alright," Luke concedes, still chuckling, "we'll watch The Notebook with you, Alex.” 

"Good" Alex smirks, echoing Nate's earlier words

*****

Luke returns to the hotel around 2pm and only then does Jack give him back his phone. He knows he should probably take a pre-game nap, sticking to his routine, but he would much rather talk to Jordan. 

So as Alex settles in for his nap, Luke slips out of their room and heads down to the lobby, seeking a quiet corner where he can call Jordan in private. 

He finds a secluded spot near the hotel's business center, pulls out his phone, and searches for her contact before hitting the call button, his heart racing as he listens to the ring.

"Hello?" Jordan's voice comes through the speaker, sending a thrill down Luke's spine.

"Hey, it's me," Luke says, a smile spreading across his face. “Sorry I didn’t respond I was with my team and my brother was being a dick” 

Jordan laughs on the other line, “It’s okay I’m glad you called” 

“Me too, so we were talking about dinner?” Luke says 

“Yeah, when are you free?” Jordan asks 

“What about Saturday night?” Luke suggests, knowing the Devils have a back to back the 16th and the 17th meaning, by league rules, they will have the 18th off. 

“Saturday works” She says

“Cool, uh there’s this great restaurant about 10 minutes outside of Manhattan, called Velvet & Vine. I can pick you up?” Luke suggests, hoping she likes the idea. 

“Sure, that sounds great” Jordan replies, and Luke can hear the smile in her voice.

“How’s 8pm sound?” Luke proposes, mentally crossing his fingers.

“Works for me” Jordan confirms, and Luke feels a rush of excitement.

"It's a date," he says, then quickly realizes  considering they haven’t technically established that yet. "I mean, not a date-date. Unless you want it to be. I just meant-"

Jordan laughs, cutting off his rambling. "Luke, relax. It's a date. I want it to be."

Luke feels his cheeks heat up, but he's grinning like an idiot. "Okay. Good. Me too."

There's a comfortable pause, and then they continue talking, the conversation flowing easily as they share more about their likes and dislikes, their hobbies and passions.

Luke learns that Jordan loves to paint in her free time, and Jordan discovers that Luke has a secret talent for solving Rubik's cubes.

Before they know it, an hour has passed, and Luke realizes he needs to start getting ready for the game.

"Hey, Jordan, I’m sorry to cut this short, but I gotta get ready for my game.” he says apologetically. 

"Of course.  Go, do your thing. And Luke?" Jordan says, her voice warm.

"Yeah?"

"Good luck tonight. I'll be rooting for you," she says softly, and Luke feels a surge of warmth in his chest.

"Thanks, Jordan," he replies, meaning every word.

They say their goodbyes, and as Luke hangs up, he can't wipe the smile off his face. He heads back to his room, feeling lighter than he has in days.

He changes into his game day suit, the grin never leaving his lips.

As Alex starts to stir from his nap, Luke busies himself with his own pre-game rituals, double-checking his bag to make sure he has everything he needs.

"You seem chipper," Alex notes, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Good nap?"

"Something like that," Luke replies cryptically, his smile widening.

They gather their things and head down to the lobby to meet the rest of the team, ready to board the bus to the arena.

*****

The puck drops in Little Caesars arena and the game is underway, but before the Devils can even find their footing, the Red Wings score two quick goals, less than a minute apart, leaving Luke and his teammates stunned. 

On the bench, Coach Ruff is fuming, his face turning a shade of red that rivals the winged wheel on the opponent's jersey. "Wake up out there!" he shouts, slamming his hand against the boards. "We can't let them dictate the pace like this!"

Luke grits his teeth, determined to turn the tide. He throws himself into the play, battling for every inch of ice, every loose puck.

And then, with just minutes left in the first period, Jesper finds the back of the net, giving the Devils a much-needed boost heading into the intermission.

Miles away in New York, Jordan sits in her room, her laptop balanced on her knees as she watches the game. She has her headphones in, the sound of the commentators' voices filling her ears.

As the second period begins, the Red Wings strike again, extending their lead to 3-1. Jordan bites her lip, her fingers tightening around the edge of her laptop.

The Devils manage to score another goal, cutting the deficit to just one heading into the third period.

Jordan is on the edge of her seat now, her eyes glued to the screen. She watches as the teams trade goals, the score tying up at 3-3, then 4-4.

With just three minutes left in regulation, Luke gets the puck on his stick. He weaves through the defenders, his skates cutting through the ice like blades. And then, with a flick of his wrist, he sends the puck soaring past the goaltender and into the net.

Jordan leaps to her feet, a shout of joy escaping her lips, before quickly clamping her mouth shut with her hand.

Underneath she's grinning from ear to ear, her heart swelling as she watches Luke celebrate with his teammates.

The final buzzer sounds, and the Devils won. 

In the locker room, Luke is still riding high on the adrenaline of his game-winning goal. He showers and changes quickly, fielding questions from the media with a grin on his face.

As he finally makes his way back to his stall, he grabs his phone, his heart skipping a beat when he sees a text from Jordan.

Jordan: Nice goal :)

A smile spreads across Luke’s face.

#luke hughes #nj devils #jack hughes #original story #crossing enemy lines #jacob trouba #luke hughes x original character

[lleldey]

Love Is a Game: For Political Enemies

Love Is a Game: For Political Enemies (CH.2)

Chapter 1: Love Is a Game: For Important Friends

Word Count: ~ 18.5k+ (my fault, next chapters won’t be this lengthy!)

Description: They say love is a game for fools; but how can you win a game, you never wished to be a part of?

We were always friends – or rather, two neighbouring countries king’s children, who were forced to be friendly with one and other, to avoid further war between our lands.

But somewhere in the space of time and laughs, the line between friends and politics disappeared;

Warning for the chapter: mentions of war, 18+, smut, verbal fight, this is a yandere story, starting next chapter it will be more present, but please keep that in mind. If any is missed, please tell me, so I can add them! 

Warnings for the series: mentions of war, yandere themes, blackmail, verbal fights, 18+, smut, blood, more will be added with time

!In no way of shape and form do I think this is how Jungkook acts in real life, this is pure work of fiction, so if you choose to read it, please keep that in mind!

Some may think that as a monarch, parties and celebrations would always be formal, but as a Princess you can testify, that is furthest thing from the truth. You were surrounded by Kings, Queens, presidents, and rulers of tens, if not hundreds, countries, and all it took was a couple glasses of wine to see the true colours of people that sit behind their titles.

Now, you must admit, after hundreds of congratulations of your coming of age, you’re also guilty of sipping a glass or two of wine, and now you find yourself surrounded by rulers, who you might as well call friends.

“Well, it is a breath of fresh air, to see a woman in our circle.” Namjoon, president of Southern Andevia chuckled.

“I would like to think, that I have been a part of this circle for a while now, we have known each other since childhood.” Namjoon and you go far back, his father was the president just before him, so you found one another frequently in the same events.

Namjoon’s cheeks darkened as he waved his hands trying to diffuse his statement, you all chuckled once he started to ramble quickly,

“No, no, that’s not what I was trying to-” his quick mumbles only made you chuckle harder, until Yoongi, president of Leitno Republic came to his aid and put his hand on his shoulder while muttering,

“We know, just take it easy on drinks.” One may think that rulers were unfazed by drinks, since they tend to look stoic and firm from afar, but you knew Namjoon, his clumsy self only amplified whenever a drink was presented to him.

“As a form of congratulations, my country has gifted you our newest technology, it allows one to communicate with the whole of a country, by only pressing a button.” Yoongi cleared his throat, his smile still lingering,

Now this sparked your interest, you had heard about the unexpected gift, father talking about it in high remarks. Establishing close relations to progressive countries was a definite plus, as each of your friends thought of something special to gift you. “Yes, I heard about that, it seems very innovative, although I expected nothing less from the country of technology.”

“I must admit, a lot of countries stood in line for it, but we saved it just for you.” Yoongi looked over his shoulder “Even he couldn’t get a hold of it.” You looked where Yoongi shrugged his head towards, only to find some politician trying to talk to your important friend, who unmistakably looked as bored as possible, not even looking at the man.

“I heard he will be stopping by my country in a couple of months, can’t deny his visit makes us a bit uneasy.” Namjoon spoke from your left, yet your gaze still remained on your friend in front of you, holding in your laugh, as the politician tried his best to get Jungkooks attention, while nervously laughing and moving his hands.

You have to give your respects to the politician, it takes a lot of courage to speak to him, even more so, when he looks as unimpressed as he does now.

But Namjoon’s words hold a lot of truth to them, visits from Bellum Sanguini Kingdom were rare and far between, whenever they needed to travel somewhere, usually meant a great deal of trouble.

Although, you suppose, that your Kingdom was an exception, Jungkook was a regular visitor, his presence never brought you dread or fear, he was always awaited here, not even needing to announce his arrival beforehand. Your friendship was also documented throughout the years, he had gained the trust of not only you and your family, but also from your own people, which meant a lot, considering that your Kingdoms were in a war couple decades ago.

Yet still, he was an enigma to you, you both were undeniably close, but he hadn’t stepped a foot close to you this entire evening. Rulers and presidents of different countries came to congratulate you, yet the one person, who you were close with chose to stand in the back lights and play the game of pretend.

“Yeah, sometimes I don’t understand him myself…” you sighed as you still looked at Jungkook. Namjoon thinking that you finally opened up about the prince, started rambling his doubts and suspicions, but unbeknownst to him, your thoughts were flying to the man standing in front of you.

It was understandable why Namjoon’s rambling soon turned out to be a full discussion, as all of your company gave their own two cents on the monarch before your own eyes; he was an unofficially closed-off topic. You chose to never mutter a single word about him, it didn’t matter what someone was talking about him, good or bad – you refused to participate in talks related to him, and soon everyone understood that.

So, now you muttering an unconscious thought, results in a floodgate opening, everyone spitting out their thoroughly thought-through questions, wanting to understand, why you could do what no one else was able to? Or rather, how you were able to conquer the cold-hearted ruler, without even lifting your finger? At least, that’s how they called him.

Their rambling fell on deaf ears, once your gaze locked with his. You sipped your wine, as Jungkook observed you from head to toe, his gaze felt physical, as if he himself was caressing every inch of your body, leaving behind goosebumps on your skin.

As his gaze slowly moved up your form and once again met your gaze, he threw back his hair, a smirk tinkling his lips. He tilted his head, silently asking you to join him.

Your eyebrows rose at his indication, he knew very well, if not even better than you, the protocol you needed to follow, one being, that you cannot go to a person first, they have to come to you. Yet he still awaits you to approach him first.

You softly shook your head, the audacity this man beholds is remarkable. Testingly, you took a step forward - small enough to be noticed only if one was watching carefully. Only for Jungkook to replicate it in his own manner.

Now you know, he definitely is playing games – if it was not obvious by his glinting eyes and never-ending smirk, then it is by his actions. But he’s not the only one who can play games, the thought alone draws a smirk on your face; you seemingly took a step towards Jungkook, only to turn around mid-air to Namjoon.

You didn’t catch what they were talking about, but their last topic encouraged you to flawlessly clink your wine glass with his own half-full one, and glamorously pronounce, “To a successful visit and great union!”.

Everyone around you put their glasses to their lips and continued talking about a topic you couldn’t focus on even if you wished to, so you tried to discreetly turn your head where Jungkook stood, as childishly as it may sound, to savour the glory of winning this small game, awaiting his dagger-like gaze, and scrunched up face.

But instead, you were met with the lonesome politician, who stood gruesome while swirling around his drink. No Jungkook. Now a bit alarmed your gaze swept over the crowd, trying to find your friend, only to see your fathers back accompanied by an overly enthusiastic Jungkook.

Disappointment washed over you, once you realised that you wouldn’t be able to boast in Jungkooks poutiness, but as you were about to turn back towards your company, father turned around, and waved his hand for you to join them.

As you were about to go to him, you looked up at Jungkook, only to find him smirking once again. You paused before shaking your head and going towards them, quickly excusing yourself from your company.

He always found a way to win, no wasn’t an answer in his books. If you refused to go to him, he found the one instance, where you couldn’t deny him – the one person, whom you were allowed to go first to. The King – your father.

Jungkook – 1, you – 0.

But the game quickly disappeared from your mind, father’s sombre face expression making you a bit uneasy. You watched how he forced a smile on his face, while welcoming you to come closer to them.

“Dear, Jungkooks father, King of Bellum Sanguini would like to congratulate you personally on the matter of celebration.” Jungkook nodded his head to fathers’ words, continuing his train of thoughts,

“Indeed, he hasn’t met you in a while, and as you now are proclaimed to be the next ruler, Kingdom of Bellum Sanguini would like to properly acknowledge your title with a visit to our Kingdom.”

Now, you have never been to Jungkooks Kingdom, let alone been personally invited to it. It is a great honour to get any sort of acknowledgment from them, but you would be a fool, if you looked over how strongly father gripped his glass of whisky, as Jungkook explained you the matter of conversation.

“We have already contacted your assistant about the visit and added a few extra dates to your grand tour of countries.” Jungkook gestured to your assistant on the far left of the ballroom.

You watched how your assistant, Anthony, bowed across the room when he noticed your gazes. He shuffled his feet and tumbled with his fingers as he tried to smile to you politely. He is nervous.

As he should be. If you wouldn’t have known Anthony for such a long time, he would be in big trouble now. He didn’t enlighten you with the changes in your graphic, even more so – you had to find out about them through Jungkook.

“Well then, it seems like everything is set, do send your father a thank you for the invite, I will be sure to accept it.” You turned to Jungkook with a somewhat forced smile, even if the invitation is a show of great respect, it still left you unsettled. You weren’t sure if even your father visited the neighbouring Kingdom in the past decade, it was secluded, and perhaps so for a good reason.

“Well then, children, I will leave you to it, please excuse me.” Father quickly murmured with a nod, and disappeared in the crowd, not even letting you to say a word in between.

Jungkook cleared his throat besides you, looking the way your father went, “He doesn’t seem too thrilled by the idea, does he?” his question sounded more of a statement, but he is right. You doubt there is a better example of a royal trying to seem on board with an idea, that one seemingly hates.

“How come you didn’t come by to at least say ‘hello, and congratulations’?” changing the subject seemed like the best option, perhaps it was the wine swimming through your system, making your words flow easier, but this was something that you were stuck on the entire evening.

He promised to be here, but he found the best way to fulfil his promise, yet still stay away from you the entire evening. It would be a lie, if you said you didn’t feel even a bit offended by his actions.

Jungkook hummed besides you, “You see, I don’t play pick and choose.” He looks towards your friend group, “And I most certainly don’t entertain flies, that wants a piece of my own.”

“They are my friends.”

“No, they’re not.” His response came alarmingly quick. Tense silence overtook you both, Jungkooks jaw clenched, and you watched how he closed his eyes and took a deep breath – seemingly to compose himself.

“I’m your friend, and they-” he looked you in the eyes “They are just a white noise.”

His gaze rooted you to the floor, no movement possible. You see it in his eyes, the unmistaken displeasure, clouded by hints of stoic willpower. He believes his own words, and somehow the raw emotion in his eyes does not allow you to correct him – even if his words remain just that – empty, with no truth behind them.

A gentle bell from behind you broke the heavy energy that flew between you both. You managed to smile at him and turn to see what the noise presents.

About 20 children stood in line behind one of the servants, he didn’t need to announce what time it is – the greetings from the youngest generation of your Kingdom.

You giggled as you turned to Jungkook, “Look what time it is.” You whispered to him.

Children had flowers braided into their hair. They all smiled at you, while holding hands with one another. A little boy, he couldn’t be older than 7, stepped forward and with a shy smile, and chin to the sky proclaimed, “Princess, we the children of Kingdom Otium Lepor, welcome you as our ruler from now on till’ forever.”

The orchestra started to play the all too familiar melody, trinks of guitar and accordion taking the place in front, while the other instruments played in background. Politicians and rulers around you smiled at the scene – children dancing hand in hand and clapping their hands together with the melody.

You turned to Jungkook “Do you remember this dance? It for sure is engraved in my mind, the countless hours of practice will never leave my mind.” You chuckled at the thought alone. When you and Jungkook were children, you saw the dance being performed in an event, and since then you both spent countless hours dancing to it while tripping over the others foot.

You still remember how Jungkook tried to act as tough as possible at the age of 9, while you unsuccessfully tried to go through his arms, as part of the dance. Instead of fulfilling the movement, you managed to step on his foot, run into his stomach and make you both fall to the floor. As stoic as Jungkook tried to be, both of you fell into fits of laughter, while laying on the floor.

Those are the key memories you hold close to your heart. That is the reason, why both of you have been friends for so long. Laughter and mindless games you both played – because after all you were children, even if you could be one only with each other.

You couldn’t deny alcohol warming your blood; ballroom seemed a bit brighter, music more thrilling and children’s feet clad into their white socks and black sandals all the more joyful.

Perhaps that is the reason why you didn’t stop to rethink your actions, when one of the children came up to you, and presented their own, presumably, made flower crown. It didn’t take you a second to call one of the workers and carefully take off your crown and cape to put it in his white gloved hands.

You leaned down to the little boy, “Will you do me the honours?”

You are sure that the chiselling smile he gifted you shone brighter than the crown you previously wore, his chubby fingers delicately placed the flowers on top of your head, while watching in wonder how they proudly rested on his princess’s hair.

You took the boys hand and went closer to the dancing children. They parted way for you to come in the middle, and the little boy released your hand to go back to his friends. You couldn’t help but laugh as their bodies danced around you in circles, your head went back and forth trying to capture every single one of the children, the rapid motion making you lightheaded.

They danced back and forth closer to your body in a synchronized union. From the corner of eye, you could see flashes of light going off, probably the reporters trying to take the best picture, but as you clapped your hands together with children, and started to move your body with the rhythm of music, you concluded – you couldn’t care less.

You felt free as a bird, the heavy dress no more dragged you down, weighting no more than a feather now. The glamorous chandelier reflected the embroidered diamonds, your dress translating the free spirit within you, as it shone in hundreds of sparkles with each of your movements.

As you twirled around, you could see the blurry faces of mother and father looking at you and giggling to each other. At the back of your mind, you knew that this was not the expected way for a princess to act, but blame it on wine, you were having fun, and knew for a fact that you were not the only one, as politicians and rulers surrounded your dancing bodies and clapped together with the music.

With the last chords of the song playing, crowd erupted into an uproar, and children threw their flower crowns into the air. You watched how lone flower petals slowly descended from the ceiling, cheers and whistles growing louder with each second.

Your gaze swept over the crowd, hundreds of people surrounded you, the end of them not visible. Some loudly called ‘cheers’, some ‘repeat’, while others were laughing with their group of acquaintances.

And all you managed to do was smile.

Children slowly bowed to you in unison, now you understand the saying – a monarch is like a parent figure, who constantly worries and takes care of millions of their children. Because as you watched the little dancers, all you could feel was pride swirling through you.

So, you joined the crowd, and applauded them. Their faces morphed from surprise to utter happiness, it might have been a fracture of second, cause in a blink of eye, one of the children ran up to you and hugged you.

It didn’t take long for the other 20 children to accompany their friend, you stumbled back from the sheer force, as they rushed into your embrace. Your fluffy dress enveloped their small bodies, some of the children became invisible in the dark material.

You caressed the hair of one of the children, who hid their face in your dress. The moment felt serene, body tingling with sparks of joy and warmth. Your gaze met with Jungkooks across the room, you tilted your head for him to come closer, but he only shook his head with a smile and drank the reminder of liquid in his glass – probably whiskey.

“I want to be like you someday, princess.” a quiet voice mumbled from your dress. A little girl looked at you with big eyes filled with wonder and stars. You caressed her cheek with a smile, oh, to be a child again.

A woman in the corner gestured for the children to come to her, presumably their teacher. Children detached themselves from you with a last bow, and quickly ran back to the said woman.

You turned towards the crowd that was still engulfing you in their presence, they looked at you in wonder, when you said that you wanted a celebration like no other, you meant it. As your eyes swept over the guests, cheers started once more; you were used to attention, but not necessarily when it was dedicated to you.

You were used to being in the shadows of your father, at the end of the day he was the King, while you – a ruler in queue. Up till this day you weren’t even of age, which allowed other to overlook you, but you guess that ends today as well.

The attention was a lot – it is a lot – the knowledge that each of your movement is watched and dissected leaves you unnerved, but as much as you don’t want to acknowledge it; it feels good.

You took another glass of wine from nearby waiter and smiled as you excused yourself to find a place to sit – dancing in high heels is a challenge, even more so when one is tipsy.

But before you could move out of the circle everyone had made, Jungkook stepped forward. You could almost hear how everyone gasped when he stopped right in front of you. If the attention before was welcomed, now you felt like it was closing in on you.

You knew that Jungkook was a mystery to everyone, the whole evening you saw rulers come up to him, trying to even get a word out of him. And now it felt like everyone slowly moved closer to you both, trying to hear what he has to say.

You smiled at him, hoping that he sees in your eyes the question that screams in your head - what are you doing?

But if he does, he successfully ignores it, opting to smile back, “Princess Reagan, I never congratulated you properly.” He pronounced every word loud and clear, taking in mind that everyone hears him.

Jungkook never before made you nervous, but then again, he never put you in such a compromising situation. Now you understood what Namjoon meant when he said that his presence alone left him feeling uneasy.

But your smile didn’t falter, “Of course you did, my Kingdom is grateful for your attendance, as you must be very busy at this time of year.” You looked over the crowd, once meeting your gaze they quickly looked elsewhere, pretending to be engaged in a conversation with a person besides them.

“Would you like to accompany me to the buffet? Here is so much noise, that I’m afraid we might miscommunicate.” You hoped that he would sense your restraint with such a crowd as a witness to your conversation, but as he shook his head, with a smile still gracing his features, you knew he had something up his sleeve.

“Here should be fine, Your Grace, it won’t take longer than a couple of minutes.” You drew your glass closer to your lips, sipping wine as you nervously watched how he put his fingers up in a beckoning sign.

A tall silhouette of a man came out of the crowd, once he was closer you recognised him to be Jungkooks personal assistant. “Herman, great to see you!” he bowed in front of you while graciously muttering “Your Grace”.

Herman had a dark velvet box in his hands, which he carefully held so as not to jostle. “My father unfortunately couldn’t attend your celebration, but my Kingdom would like to congratulate you as our newest ally.”

On Jungkooks cue Herman opened the box in his hands. Upon seeing what lies in it, your carefully crafted smile slowly vanished, it replaced by a sharp breath and shaking eyes. And you weren’t the only one, you heard gasps and murmurs from the crowd, but as your gaze fixated on the open box, everything else around you became a white noise.

Inside the box contained the most beautiful and also dangerous necklace you had ever laid your eyes on. The black diamonds reflected a dark red hue, small gems connecting the big stones one to another. The necklace looked heavy, and you’re sure it is, as there was no space for even a chain to connect it; the whole of jewellery made of diamonds.

But perhaps the history behind the necklace is the heaviest – this necklace in front of you, as funny as it sounds, was the reason war begun between both of your Kingdoms, as Jungkooks Kingdom blamed yours on stealing the jewel, while historically it always belonged to your country.

The red reflection of the diamonds reminded you of countless people that died because of this jewel, you looked at Jungkook unsure of what to do, dare you say - fearful. Everyone around the ballroom became still, the orchestra stopped playing the background melody. This could only go two ways, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to see either.

“Do take this as a warm welcome from my Kingdom, we look forwards seeing you soon.” Jungkook smiled, seemingly, the only person who’s able to do so. You’re afraid to move, you didn’t get where Jungkook was going with his implications. Your Kingdom gave them the jewel at the end of the war, in hopes to restore peace and hopefully – never see the diamonds again.

Was this his way of strengthening the union? Or is he saying that the peace offer is broken? You looked at the jewels in caution, the necklace hasn’t been in the public eye ever since the war ended.

“May I?” Jungkook asked as he gestured to the box. Your throat felt dry as a sandpaper, you managed to slowly nod your head while cautiously looking in his eyes. Unfortunately for you, they didn’t explain what was going through his mind, what kind of game he was playing. He simply smiled in content with your answer.

Jungkook took the necklace from the box, leaving it hanging from two of his fingers. The jewels spun in circles as Jungkook came closer to you, it felt as if he held a knife in his hands, rather than the necklace.

Your breath hitched as Jungkook stopped mere centimetres away from your body, even the dress became squashed in between the both of you. He tilted his head as he looked over your features, probably seeing the fear that laid behind your eyes.

He gently smiled as he slowly caressed your cheek, placing a stray piece of hair behind your ears. You didn’t notice how your hair freed from the carefully crafted bun when you were dancing.

You slowly turned your head towards where your father was standing, but Jungkooks fingers quickly stopped your movements, tilting your head back facing him. “Eyes on me, little ruler” he quietly murmured while caressing your cheek one last time before slowly stepping around you.

His body stood right behind you, you could feel his breath on your shoulder, just as goosebumps made themselves known across your skin.

You tilted your head, when his hands gathered your hair and put it over one of your shoulders. Subconsciously you straightened your back once your shoulder blades came in contact with his chest.

You felt the necklace before you saw it, the heavy jewel resting on your collarbones chilled your skin, while it weighted your neck – it was heavier than your crown.

Once you hear the necklace clique in its place, you draw your fingers around the diamonds, the sharp corners of the stones digs in your fingertips. Jungkook steps around you to look at the diamonds around your neck, he hums in acknowledgment, with glinting eyes.

Your eyes meet in a silent confrontation, and you know he sees the panic behind your own, you are clueless how to act, this is no simple gift one would give on a celebration. Around your neck lies the blood and chains his Kingdom bestowed upon yours.

Jungkook is no fool, you have known him ever since childhood, you have basically grown up together, so why on earth does he act clueless when you shoot him panicked gazes?

“The jewels suit your skin colour well, Princess. Might I even say, is seems as though they have been crafted especially for you.” Jungkooks voice awakens you from your frozen state, and you’re reminded of hundreds of eyes that are boring into your figures.

So, you do what you have been trained for, you force a smile and play the role of a dutiful and strong princess, even though every sense of your body is screaming at you to get away from the whole situation.

“Thank you, Prince Jungkook, for your…” your voice trails off as you lightly touch the necklace once more, trying to figure out how to best name the terror he presented you in the name of a gift, “for your generous gift. You have managed to catch me at a loss of words, I am surely not deserving of such an important present.” You forcefully laughed, hoping that no one noticed the horror behind your words.

“It looks like you are not the only one at a loss of words.” Jungkook looked at the crowd with a mischievous smirk adorning his lips. Now you know for a fact that he’s playing some sort of a twisted game with you.

“Well of course, one doesn’t get to see such a beautiful jewel every day.” You come in help to the crowd, their visibly tense figures relaxing at your words, laughing along your ‘joke’ to seem nonchalant. Although their nervous gazes betray their nerves raging through their own system.

Only now you notice how the music stopped, the truth being, everyone in this room is as scared as you feel. You turned towards the orchestra and with a smile loudly proclaimed, “It is a beautiful necklace indeed. I am assured it’s beauty would excel with some nice melody accompanying it.”

The band quickly got your message and started to play some tune once more. You managed to breath a sigh of relief, as you mentally crossed the thin ice on the lake. The ballroom slowly awakening from its frozen state.

But your relief is short lived, Jungkook cleared his throat behind you, urging you to look at him once more, only to be met with his stretched-out palm. You slowly turned towards him, as he stepped closer to you.

You know what he is about to ask of you, and you know even more so that you are prohibited to accept his offer. The first dance of the night is always reserved to the ruler of the Kingdom – your father. Its breach is not only unheard of, but also frowned upon.

You look at him with desperation coating your eyes, he knows how important this tradition is for every monarchy, yet still he asks of you to break it.

“Princess, would you give me the honour?” you are screaming every profanity in your mind at him, how, or rather why is he asking this of you?

Once he is a mere step away from you, you manage to whisper quietly enough so he is the only one able to hear you, “Jungkook, what are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer you; he has intentionally put you in a seesaw once again – either you refuse him, and publicly humiliate his Kingdom, therefore damaging your alliance, or you agree, and show the utmost disrespect to your own father and people.

Tomorrow’s newspapers flash in your mind, ‘how the princess managed to ruin the carefully crafted union between the two opposing monarchies in one day’ or even ‘the princesses loyalty lies in a Kingdom not her own – where did it all go wrong?’.

You searched for your father in the crowd, only to be met with his scowling face. You watched how he murmured something under his breath and shook his head with squinted eyes just before turning around and leaving the ballroom.

At that moment your realised, you don’t have a choice, the decision has been made disregards to you. And yet, you will be the one that’s responsible for it tomorrow.

With a final breath, you take Jungkooks hand. For the love of Gods, may tomorrow’s clash be dealt with later.

Now, you and Jungkook have danced a lot when you were young, you might even say that you enjoyed it. But as his cold fingertips graze your skin, and he leads you in circles around the ballroom, you can’t deny it feels like the biggest test of your life.

He doesn’t break your eye contact, and the light that shines from them gifts you puzzle pieces of his thoughts; they scream of how proud he is, the happiness and confidence behind that devilish smile is undeniable.

And yet all that you can think of is how you wish that was your father in front of you. In a singular night Jungkook has gotten you in more trouble than you have managed to cause in the duration of your life.

The hundreds of flashes all around you doesn’t escape you, their presence overpowering your confidence, and you feel yourself sinking in shame of your wrongdoings. But Jungkook catches your divided focus, before you are even able to turn towards the cameras.

You feel the ground escaping you before you even notice his actions, in a mere second, he lowers your body in a dip to the ground, and all you are able to do, is catch his shoulders as close to you as possible in fear of falling.

You look up at him breathless from the sudden dance move, your bodies emerged together like one, limbs overlapping one another as you find his face a mere breath away. And all you see looking up is his playful smile, how the corners of his lips tremble, trying to hold in his laugh.

The pinkish-red hue colouring their surface, as he slowly bites his lower lip, eyes analysing each of your features – your heaving chest that is pressed skin-to-skin with his own, your hands clenching his shoulders closer to you, and eyes looking up at him with an innocent spark.

It seems like hours of you looking at each other, while in reality it wasn’t more than a couple of seconds. His gaze always rooted you to the spot, doesn’t matter how happy or satisfied he is, he has a certain look that makes it hard for you to breathe, awaiting his next movement as a sign of freedom.

And he adorned that particular gaze right now, making it impossible to look away from him, even as your brain started to slowly catch up to the hundreds of eyes on you, while you laid in the arms of a man.

Before you are able to utter a word, Jungkook pulls your bodies back up, and resumes the dance around the ballroom. Your legs feel stoic, as you tried to catch up to his moves, now all you can do is thank the wine flowing through your veins, otherwise the cold stares and unforgiving tomorrow would have frozen your body in the middle of the ballroom.

You felt his fingers drawing random shapes on the corset of your dress, as he unnoticeably slowly drawled your body closer to his, and suggestively whispered, “Shall we make some headlines for tomorrow?”

As if the headline list isn’t filled for tomorrow, and if you were to guess, most of them related to him. But as you decipher his suspicious suggestion, you rose your eyebrow in question, still annoyed by his previous endeavours.

But he doesn’t answer you, instead your body jerked in a rapid movement, as his legs started to move twice as fast as they previously did. You managed to tighten your grip on his shoulder once again, hoping that you don’t accidentally step on his foot and make a fool of yourself.

You quietly shouted in surprise, as Jungkook leads your bodies so close to the sea of people, that the crowd startled stepped away, you watched how some men spilled drinks on their jackets, or even worse – how one clumsy man fell over his feet in hurry.

You couldn’t help but to chuckle at their actions, how they shot you an unimpressed look, while huffing to themselves. You felt Jungkooks chest vibrate, as he also looked at the awkward men. You slowly relaxed your body, as Jungkook spun your bodies around faster and faster, until the whole of the room became a colourful blur.

The colours, people and music blended into the background, and all you could see was Jungkooks smiling face in front of you. At this point, you had no clue what your body was doing or how your feet were moving, as you let yourself be led by his strong arms.

You quietly exclaimed as Jungkook twirled you around the dance floor, the weight of your dress making it impossible to stop the action. Even though you were afraid to fall, as your unstable feet stumbled into one another every couple seconds, the movements made your body feel alive.

You could feel the warm embrace of lights from the chandelier, how your dress led your body like wind, Jungkooks hand strongly holding your own – but all too soon you crashed into his chest, as the song slowly ended.

The crowds faces mixed in aw and surprise, but all you could do was laugh, as some of the presidents and politicians mumbled something in disapproval while tidying the spilled wine on their clothes.

You looked back at Jungkook, who hadn’t stopped smiling even for a second during the last half an hour “This doesn’t change anything, you owe me an explanation.” You murmured only to his ears with a raised finger, and slowly bowed to the awaiting crowd.

Jungkook knew that his actions would need explanation, and yet as he watched you go back into the crowd with a glass of wine in hand and, most importantly, the black diamonds around your neck – he’s satisfied. At least now, even if he won’t be needing it, he has a back-up plan.

You looked around the crowd while sipping wine, after the official first dance of the night, others went to the dance floor as well. The ballroom was alive, but after today’s events you can’t deny that you are tired.

In a gulp you finished your entire glass, while catching a waiter to get another one. The celebration was in full spring, but the mix of standing in high heels, wine and the thought of your angry father soon leads you to the door. You deem the time reasonable enough to leave the party, and even more so – at this stage you doubt that someone would notice that you’re gone.

The air outside of the ballroom is chilly, but at least finally you’re able to freely breathe. Jungkooks actions, mixed with hundreds of eyes, left you walking on a thin ice. You massaged your head concluding that you need to find your father, he must be mad, and with a reason.

You have no clue how to apologise for Jungkooks behaviour, the gift and taking away fathers first dance – a simple apology surely won’t fix it. The last thing you wanted to do on your birthday, was to fall out with your father, and for this you whole heartedly blame Jungkook.

Before you are able to turn to father’s wing, a hand on your shoulder stops your movements, you quickly turn around only to find the reason of your headache in front of you.

“What are you doing here?” Jungkook tilts his head as he looks over where you were going, but you’re only able to scoff at him, as you shrug off his hand from your shoulder and continue to walk towards your father’s room.

“To fix what you caused.” You shout over your shoulder, only to turn your head and find Jungkook right beside you. He was already shooting you an inquisitive look, while you yelped in surprise. He sure walks quiet.

“What are you going to say to him?” Jungkook places his hand over your wine glass, so it doesn’t spill over your dress while you try to calm down your breathing.

“I haven’t thought that far,” you shoot him a disapproving look as he continues to follow you, “Probably that you were drunk and didn’t realise what you were doing.”

“Your father knows very well that I hold my drinks well, he won’t believe you.” Jungkooks tsks with a shake of his head.

“Fine, that you thought that we already had our first dance.” Jungkook laughs besides you, “That most certainly won’t work, he saw how I was near you the entire evening.”

You stop and look at him, today of all days he managed to annoy you more than in the past years. But then again, you are going to your father to apologise for his actions, while he is standing in front of you doing nothing more than getting on your nerves without giving the actual reason of his actions.

You poke him on his chest, “Mr. Know it all, why don’t you do it? I don’t have to apologise for your actions, be a big boy, and deal with it.”

“I’m not bothering him today, perhaps tomorrow. His wrath isn’t something I look forwards to.”

You watch how Jungkook single-mindedly shrugs his shoulders, as if he bears no worries in mind. But you can’t deny that he is probably right, speaking to him tomorrow does seem more appealing, when his anger has at least somewhat calmed down.

But his satisfied face only increases your annoyance, and as of right now you are done with him, no additional fights nor disagreements seems like your best choice. Going back to your room and burrowing yourself under covers to escapes tomorrow’s problems seem more and more appealing.

“Fine, good night.” You copy his nonchalant shrug, but before you are able to go back to your room, Jungkook catches your hand and starts leading you the opposite way.

“You still haven’t told me how today went, I’m very intrigued in your discussions with neighbouring rulers.” He looked over his shoulders as he led you somewhere unknown.

“Jungkook, I want to go to my bedchambers. We can talk tomorrow, then you can explain your behaviour as well.” You manage to sigh as he pulls you closer to him, so both of you walk side to side.

“Sure, we’ll go there as well, but before that~” he stops at the kitchens door and opens it while gesturing for you to go in.

You hope that he understands from your gaze alone how over his charade you are. You hold his gaze for a while, waiting for him to let you be, but his smile doesn’t bother, and you know he will not quit it.

You shake your head, as you go into the kitchen with one last disapproving glare. The room is secluded, even the sounds from the ballroom are muted, you watch how Jungkook goes around you to the fridge and takes out a plate of snacks and a bottle of wine.

“I have concluded that some late-night snacks are a must after pointless talks and obnoxious politicians.” Jungkook puts the food on the nearby table and pulls out a chair gesturing for you to come closer.

The snacks on the table invited you to come closer, after dancing and who knows how many empty glasses, your eyes zeroed on the table, previous fatigue forgotten. “How did you even manage to get in? They shoo me away whenever they see me close by.” You mumbled as you sat on the open chair.

“I would like to think the chef has a sweet spot for me.” Jungkooks opened up the wine bottle as you grabbed one of the pastries, “The number of times he helped me bake cookies for you must have been good for something.”

You giggle while munching on the sweets; when you were children, you realised that Jungkook had never done even as much as cut a vegetable, let alone cook anything. So, you took it upon yourself to drag Jungkook to the kitchen and charm the staff with puppy eyes and angelic smiles to let you in.

You made it a tradition to bake cookies whenever Jungkook came by, but it took one unlucky accident resulting in you crying with a bleeding finger for the chef to never let you step a foot in the kitchen. But Jungkook somehow managed to enchant the staff to still let him in, as he had a tendency to bake you cookies on your birthday.

“I have a heavy suspicion that you have always been his favourite.” Jungkooks laughs as he shakes his head, “Your people love you. Although I must say, if one of your subjects don’t view me as a soul reaper – I’ll take it.”

“Well, if you tried to smile once in a while, I’m sure they wouldn’t be as scared.” His tendency to have a blank face has been noticed by everyone and judging by how Jungkook shakes his head and puts his palms up, he knows it as well.

“During the past hour I have smiled more than this year, so I dare to disagree.” That brings out a solid point, he has been smiling more than usual, although this time for the wrong reasons entirely.

“About that, some explanations would be appreciated.” You touch the necklace that was still weighting your neck, “About what?” Jungkooks tone alone screamed ignorance, as he poured you both a glass of wine.

You were about to reply, but in the middle of pouring you a glass, he looks up for no more than a second. You recognise that gaze, the quick movement, and clenched jaw. He is nervous.

“Necklace, first dance…” you quietly answer while watching his movements, only to be met with his own calculative gaze. He doesn’t answer you for a while, probably hoping that you will interrupt the silence and move on.

But he showed you his true emotions, even if it was only for a second and you refuse to back down until you get your answer.

You get comfortable and take your glass, and Jungkook gets your memo. He drums his fingers on the table and finally answers, “I wanted to do something special.”

“In that you succeeded indeed. A war weapon from the opposing Kingdom is hard to beat.” You clique your glass with his, while he looks at you with a smirk and a risen eyebrow.

“If opposing countries rulers sit by the same table and drink wine while eating pastries, I do believe that world peace is just around the corner.”

You stare at him unimpressed; he is once again changing the subject while simultaneously minimalizing the impact of his doings.  

“You can’t actually think that I would come here on your celebration of age with some flowers and chickens.” He finishes his glass in a gulp and pours wine in both of your cups.

“Why not? You know that I don’t expect anything from you.”

“Reagan, everyone knows that you’re my girl. That would never happen in million years. And there’s nothing more special that I could have given you than~” he points at your neck while drinking his wine, “It is specifically given to Jeon family.”

Your mind zeroed on his first sentence. Everyone knows that you are my girl. Now you looked at him with unmasked bewilderment, laughter leaving your lips before your mind was even able to make a comprehensive sentence.

“I wasn’t aware that my title has changed. From the future Queen to your girl, that is quite a reach.” The thought alone is ridiculous, the number of rumours both of you have been tied to is astronomical.

“We should probably do something about it, otherwise it’s getting out of hand.” Jungkook hums in response with a glint in his eyes.

“Agree, the next time we need to proclaim that we are happily married with two children.”

“Hmm, the oldest a girl, I have always liked the name Ivy.” you point out, playing along with him.

“And the youngest a boy, Roy, in honour of our favourite chef, who surely puts love potions in his cookies.” You shake your head in amusement as you watch him laugh. You grab a pastry from the plate and stuff it in his mouth as he continues to chuckle while munching on the sweet.

Mindless banters was up your forte, as much as you don’t want to admit it, you are glad that Jungkook forced you to spend the rest of the evening with him, otherwise you would have gone to your room, overthought your every move and wrongdoing at today’s events. Whereas now you are laughing with your closest friend, drinking wine, and forgetting about everything that is wrong with the world.

You are sure that your joy fills the whole room, candle lights dance around Jungkooks face with each of his movements, and your mind feels calm as you see the flames reflection in his eyes.

So, it wasn’t a big surprise when your seemingly seconds long banter was interrupted by a staff member.

You both turn to the door to see the unexpected visitor, the poor maid frozen in the aisle. Only now you notice how dark the sky had turned, it seems like your joyous banter turned into an hour’s long rendezvous.

You straighten your back and sit properly on the chair, somewhere in between laughs your elbows touched on the tables surface from the close proximity. You clear your throat realizing how improper you must look to the maid.

But before you manage to apologise to her, Jungkook dismisses the poor woman with a harsh “out”, before turning to you and continuing your previous topic. Your head snaps to him in surprise, the woman’s trembling voice echoing through the kitchen, “My deepest apologies Your Grace, Your Highness. I was not aware of your presence in the kitchen, excuse me for my mistake.”

Before the woman manages to escape the room, you quickly go in tow, to minimalize Jungkooks crudity, “No need to apologise, we made an unexpected visit. You surely have more important business here than we do. We were already leaving.”

You get up from the chair, the aftermath of the two empty wine bottles on the table settling in. You catch your footing as the image before you slowly pulsates.

The maid keeps apologising from the door aisle, so you send her a quick smile to dismiss her worries. A bad decision on your part, the quick movements only making your vision blurrier.

Jungkook clicks his tongue from his seat but doesn’t argue, but as he gets up from the chair, you see the light tremble of his own legs, you didn’t even notice how much you had drunk, till the serenity was interrupted.

Jungkook turns to the fridge and grabs another bottle. Once you send him an inquisitive look, he shrugs his shoulders while storing the bottle in his - now scrunched - jacket pocket.

“I have always been envious of men’s pockets.” Your jealous stare continues to follow Jungkook as he steps out of the door, but not before he sends another glare to the maid. You push him out of the door with a shake of your head, the nerve this man possesses is something else.

“Have a nice evening and do get some rest!” you point at the perplexed woman, her stare burning in your temple, as you wave her goodbye and go back to Jungkook.

The door slowly closes behind you, the soft thud signalising of you being left alone. “That was fun.” You mumble once you start progressing towards your personal wing.

Jungkook hums besides you to the soft echoes of the music from the ballroom. You giggle as he takes your hand in his and starts swinging it side to side. You turn your head towards him, and the whole world seems to go in slow-motion.

His hair is a mess, strands sticking in every way possible, and you are probably at fault for that, as your drunk self-thought it would be funny to mess with it, as Jungkook laughed while trying to hide his head in his arms.

Every sensation feels more intrusive; your limbs are burdensome, pulling you down as if the whole gravity is tied to your shoulders, the music moves your body to its rhythm without you even noticing, your hips swinging to the music, and the corset around your torso smothering you breathless.

But worse of all – your heels digging holes in your soles.

Every step feels more painful than the previous one, hundreds of needles glued to your feet. So, to no surprise to anyone, you tug Jungkooks hand to a stop, and bend down to your shoes.

The darkness of the hallway doesn’t help you, as only the sole candles on the walls light up the space, you quietly curse as your fumbling fingers get entangled in your fluffy dress, nor the beginning, nor the end of it being visible.

As you’re about to sit down on the floor to get better vision of the shoes, Jungkook tsks from besides you and soon after you feel his warm hands embrace your clumsy ones. Your eyes meet, as he lowers his body to a kneeling position in front of you.

“Let me.” He whispers as your hair falls messily in front of your eyes. You are taken aback by your proximity, his eyes sparkling in shades of adoration and hints of wilderness, that makes you giggle in wonder.

You shake your head as you feel Jungkooks comforting hands around your ankle. He doesn’t break your eye contact, while undoing your shoestrings, his own eyes committing each and every of your movements, following your lip quirks as his warm hands tickle your sensitive skin.

You blame the alcohol entirely for your feelings, but as Jungkook slowly untangles your feet from the shoe and takes it in his hands to slowly massage it, it would be a futile attempt to blame the alcohol for your accelerating heartbeat.

Your balance mixed with a couple of bottles of wine fails you, your body vibrates from sensations all around you, and the world seems a bit blurrier and warmer than usual. You don’t notice your head spinning, until you catch yourself on Jungkooks shoulders.

Although the act is an ordinary movement, the worlds spins in different directions right now, and with no control of yourself, you giggle while caging Jungkooks body below you. Thank the god everyone is having fun at the party, as you worry that the visual, they would be met with now, would be highly misleading –

Jungkooks head lightly pressed on your breasts, and his hands under your dress.

The whole situation is laughable, and you do just that – laugh. You hear Jungkook asking if everything is all right, but all you manage is a shake of your head in between the fits of giggles.

Jungkook slowly puts your shoes on the floor, and the blurry smile he gifts you from below makes your heart swoon in adoration. Both of you look drunk, that much you can decipher as Jungkook looks at you with his love-filled and disoriented gaze.

Ever since you met as children, you have spent every single one of your birthdays together – it didn’t matter if Jungkook had somewhere different to be, or if his father required him to be somewhere different, he was always here. You don’t even want to know how Jungkook had to bargain with him to be by your side, but whatever price it may be, he never complained. Only smiled and gifted you baskets of pastries.

Perhaps the years you have spent together came to play, as the love you feel for him is amplified by each of your previous drinks, but you don’t want the words to fall dead in your heart once more. So, you lightly whisper, while balancing your weight on his shoulders,

“Thank you for being here.” The words may seem simple, but the silence and tilt of head alone expresses that he understood what you mean.

Jungkook takes your hand from his shoulders and gives it a kiss, while standing up with your shoes in his other hand.

“Come here” Jungkook pulls you closer and hangs his arm around your middle, while guiding you to your room.

Cold tiles against your feet calm your spinning world, as you let him lead you wherever. You know that the evening has come to an end, and although it has brought way more problems than planned, you selfishly don’t want it to end.

His hands around your torso feel more comforting than you could have imagined, and the fights tomorrow’s sunrise will bring, makes you want to stop the time and hide in this moment forever.

But the flickering candles against the walls and gold embroider around the aisle of your wing, speaks loud and clear that the unwelcome goodbye has arrived.

You sober your mind enough to distance yourself away from Jungkook, his disagreeing gaze going amiss to you.

Guards welcome you in front of your wing, standing firm and tall in their position. You murmur a “Good evening” as you quickly move past them towards your bedroom. You feel Jungkook following in tow, his energy speaking louder than his frame – even if you don’t see him, you feel his presence behind you.

You stop in front of your door, two more guards greeting you with a bow of their heads. You look back at Jungkook, his gaze already awaiting you.

You don’t want to say goodnight, the night seems too young and sweet to finish already. And the least you want to do, is to farewell Jungkook under the stares of the guards. Judging by Jungkooks own awaiting gaze, you know that he won’t accept such an option.

“I think you should accompany your colleagues at the entrance of the wing. There are guests roaming around the palace, and me and Jungkook have already arrived, so nothing to guard here.” You turn back to the guards, and with a nod of their heads, they turn to leave.

But before they manage to exit your peripheral vision, you call after them “And do be so kind and tell the maids to not awaken me tomorrow, I wish to get a full rest after today’s events”

You watch how their bodies become smaller with each second, till you can’t see them no more. You turn to Jungkook and catch his gaze with a smile and tilt of your head.

“So, this is it?” You smile while resting your back on the door. The cold surface relaxes your body, and you miss how Jungkook takes a step closer to you.

“Unfortunately, it seems so,” he positions his body in front of you, resting his side on the door as well, “I have to admit, today was even better than I imagined.”

“Do you have such small hope in me?” You gasp, and jokingly punch him.

“In that you’re mistaken,” Jungkook catches your hand, “I have the highest expectations of you, but to my surprise, you always manage to exceed them.” He takes your hand in his own, and massages your fingers, while holding your gaze.

You smile at his words, feeling all warm and cosy from his undertone compliment. “I’m afraid that the night has come to an end.”

“It’s the end only when we say so.”

“Goodnight, Jungkook.” You give him a wry smile with a shake of your head.

Jungkook kisses your hand, and murmurs “Goodnight, little ruler”

The silence lasts, as none of you move first. His fingers still play with your own, and your face beams as he relaxes his head against the door, not moving away from you.

“You know you’re resting against the door handle, right?” you mess with him, and he sighs with a smile of his own.

“You want to get rid of me so badly, hm?” Jungkook gives another kiss to your hand, as he throws a questioning brow your way, and steps closer to you.

You watch how he moves closer to you, until you are a breath away from one another. He moves a wild strand of hair away from your face and leans closer. Your breath catches as you see every detail of his face, the way his eyelashes flutter and eyes wrinkle in a smile.

You don’t dare to move, as his lips press against your cheek, and you close your eyes as he stays couple of seconds pressed against you. His hair tickle your cheekbone, and you conclude that you have never smelt his fragrance so vividly – you are sure that the smell of fresh morning dusk and hints of peppermint will mark your body from this day onwards.

In the back of your mind, you hear your shoes dropping to the floor, but the thought vanishes as his hands cradle your face, and you slowly open your eyes once you feel his breath on your lips. You don’t doubt that this is the most beautiful scenery you have ever seen. This moment will forever stain your dreams, and at this point it doesn’t matter which is the brightest paint – the alcohol clouding your senses, or his soul wrapped around your heart.

You caress his jawline, feeling his heartbeat behind his hard armour. No one could deny that this moment is impossible to capture in a painting, the colours on the canvas splattering in messy flurry of emotions and figures blurrier than recognisable.

But as beautiful as it feels, the dark voice in your mind, that screams for you to get away into territory more recognisable, slowly takes over. This can’t be right, no matter how safe and sacred this moment feels – no matter how his hands touching your skin feels, this can’t be right.

With one last look at his sparkling eyes and caress of his soft cheek, you sneak your hand around him and open the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” you slowly kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear. You can’t look at him, as you step around him into your room. Cold air greets you yet the warmth from his touch still burns underneath your skin. Candles slowly burn their last breath, softly illuminating the solitary room.

You turn around to close your door, only to be met with Jungkooks body staring you down from the aisle. “I’m closing the door now.” You smile and start to slowly close the door.

“I’m offended, I never thought you’re the kind of a person, to shut doors in peoples faces.”

“Only in special cases Prince Jeon” you giggle and watch how Jungkook moves closer to the door, as the gap becomes smaller.

“Am I a special case then?” you laugh as you conclude that he is indeed a special one. Prince or not, he stands in front of a woman and begs for another minute with her. You shake your head, if only the public would see him like this, perhaps they wouldn’t call him the devil in the hiding.

“You’re the finest case, Jungkook. Goodnight.”

Jungkook gifts you his mischievous grin and leans in to give you one last kiss on the cheek. You feel how he slowly departs from your skin and whispers “Dream of me, little ruler”.

With a one last flick on his forehead, you push him out of your room and shut the door in his face. You can hear him giggling on the other side, and all you can manage is to turn around and take a look at your bedroom.

The silence in your room, enables you to hear your own heartbeat pulsating in your ears. Today was a lot, and all you wished for was to be alone, but now that you are – the stillness that surrounds you churns your chest, and the cold room chills the tickling nerves dancing on your skin.

The heavy feeling in your body didn’t vanish either, your surroundings dragging you down with it. The shadows in the corner seem to grow with each second passing by, and the flickering light of the candles only stem to remind you, that you are all alone.

You don’t think when you turn around and march towards your door, you don’t know what you’re expecting to see, or what you’re planning on doing, but you don’t want to be alone.

You didn’t need to overthink it, as evidently you aren’t the only one with such a thought – you are met with Jungkooks form resting on the wall next to your door. He turns his head towards you, and all you manage to whisper, “Would you like to come in?”

His face morphs from surprise to a dreamy smile. You both are out of it, you – clutching the door, for some sense of stability, him – looking at you with a deprived gaze and messy hair.

He doesn’t speak, but he takes your clenched hand in his, and marches inside of your room in a fast pace, you barely managing to close the door behind you.

He stops in the middle of your room, your hand still in his, and asks, “Why did you change your mind?” he tilts his head and looks at you behind him. You stare at him for a moment; him standing in your room at almost midnight feels right, the flickering lights no longer seem threating, rather comforting.

The knowledge that no one knows he is here, and all the secrets and obscure whispers will stay in this room, makes the quiet night oh, so more appealing.

Loudly expressing that you felt an unfavourable sense of loneliness and coldness deprives itself from your options, so you step closer to him, and rest your head on the back of his shoulder, “You still have a full bottle of vine, don’t you?” you sneak your hand around his back, reaching towards his jacket pocket to derive the bottle, but before you’re able to, his hand catches your own.

“If you wish to embrace me, little ruler, all you have to do is ask. How could I ever refuse such a demand?” your hands are caged around his body, he moves his face closer to your own, and traces patterns with his nose on your cheek.

“My turn to embrace you, little one.” He releases your hand on top of his chest, and firmly grabs your chin. You feel his grip urging you to come around him, towards his front, and you mindlessly follow his directions, till you find yourself embraced in his warmth.  

His hands hover over your cheeks, not fully touching your skin, yet the warmth pulsates in waves, teasing you. You lean in towards his touch, his growing smile only acknowledging you successfully following his silent commands.

You caress his cheek, the soft skin beneath your fingertips glides smooth like silk. You watch his reaction, as you let your fingers explore his face, how he flutters his eyes shut once your fingers draw the outlines of his lips.

You allow yourself to slowly caress over his lips, feel how soft the warm pillows are beneath your fingertips. You don’t notice when you step closer to Jungkook, the movement previously seemed impossible, but here you are – pressed against his chest, him holding your cheek and you caressing his lips.

In the back of your mind, you know that this is wrong, not only because he is supposed to be your Kingdoms enemy, but also because he is your friend. But you can’t stop yourself and lean in closer to his warmth, chasing after the patterns you have drawn on his skin.

You’re close enough to feel his breath against your face, a whisper away to let your lips mould together. But before you’re able to take the next step, Jungkook frowns and with a sigh rests his forehead against yours.

You look at him with a mild surprise, did he not want this? Did you step out of line? But the frown on his face screams that it pains him to do so. You watch how he takes your hand away from his face and kisses it all over.

“Jungkook?” You question him when he drops your hand and steps away from you, you’re not sure what to even ask him, the empty words and uncertainty in your voice self-explanatory.

He doesn’t answer you, but walks around your room looking for something, and takes out the bottle from his jacket.

“Little one, where do you keep your glassware? The vine won’t empty by itself.” He exclaims an “aha”, once he opens your cupboard and finds what he was seeking for.

You clumsily step forward to him, the possibility of you making him uncomfortable still fresh in your mind. You stand in front of him not knowing what to do – can you touch him, or will he slap your hand away?

In your longer than decade friendship, he has never denied you any contact, and now the possibility of you spoiling what you both have so delicately woven stands in front of you like a brick wall.

“I’m sorry” you mumble as your brain keeps going haywire. That takes his attention away from the bottle in his hands. He sharply looks at you, and you realize, that perhaps you don’t want to know what it is, he is thinking of.

The look that he gives you is not one full of pleasantries. His jaw is clenched, hair falling in front of his eyes, eyes that look close to black in the dimmed environment. You stop breathing for the whole of the couple of seconds he looks at you.

The fire that blooms in his eyes both literally from the candles and figurately churns the remaining oxygen in your lungs. You are lightheaded, the alcohol still burning through your veins and the tension spinning you in waves of heat.

You don’t know if he’s angry at you, but the fierce look on his face scars you, and with the last remains of self-composure you whisper once again, “I’m sorry”.

Jungkook whips his head away from you, and stares at his hands, with a tsk he pops the bottle open and fills the glasses.

“There’s nothing to apologize for, little one”, he screws the bottle shut and looks at you, “But you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Perhaps the sentence would have been your savior from another burden of tomorrow, but all that your haze filled mind could comprehend, is the non-existent challenge in his words.

Hot-headed you step in his personal space, and firmly state, “But I do”. You say it so assertively, that you would have believed it yourself, but your lifelong friendship comes in to play, as Jungkook looks at you with a gaze, that you could only gift a precious child.

And somehow that infuriates you even more.

Before you manage to say more, Jungkook puts one of the wine cups in your hand, and lovingly strokes your hair. You contemplate throwing the liquid in his face, but the annoying star-struck gaze is back on his face, and much to your own regret, even in your floating state, he still has a soft spot in your heart.

“You, Mr. know it all, don’t know what you’re saying.” You mumble as you sip your wine.

“Don’t I now?” you shake your head, while taking another sip.

“Little one, do tell then, isn’t this the first time you have gotten tipsy? Or if you have done as much as even kiss someone?” he caresses your cheek once more, and you whole heartedly declare, that the reasoning behind your cheeks warming, is in fact the alcohol in your cup and not the devilishly handsome man in front of you.  

“No, in fact it isn’t!” you wide-eyed proclaim. Be it the white lies that spill from your lips, you choose to look over how your voice rises. Well, technically you could count your first kiss being when you were 10, playing ‘house’ with Jungkook and getting married under a barely standing self-made fort. But details don’t count now, or do they...?

Anxiously you take a gulp from your glass, watching over the rim how Jungkook disapprovingly shakes his head and leans closer, “Lying doesn’t suit you, little one.” He whispers in your ear, and tips your glass higher till the liquid spills and drips down the corners of your lips and trickles on your neck.

You don’t manage to react, before Jungkook apologizes with a smirk and leans towards your neck. You don’t understand what he is doing, until you feel his lips against your neck.

The sudden sensation catches you off-guard, the feeling previously inexperienced penetrating your system. You feel his wet muscle massaging your neck, and slowly going lower, following the sinful red trails on your chest.

The motion of his tongue sends waves of shivers down your back, and you feel each of his movements distinctly on your skin. The light graze of his teeth as he slowly sucks your skin free of the liquid that taints his untouched canvas.

He scrapes your skin enough for chills to overtake your body, but lightly enough for you to press closer to him, seeking for something-anything more. He moves lower and lower towards your cleavage, and the trail of saliva left behind his lips cools your body, yet his body heat quickly empowers, and you feel his hot breath tainting your skin.

He grazes his teeth over your cleavage, and you’re not sure weather to reprimand your maids for choosing a dress with such a bold cut, or thank them, as you feel Jungkook’s tongue dancing in circles over your breasts. He kisses your skin till the outline of your dress, and with a harsher bite awakens you from your dream-like state.

The gravity seems to have forgotten you, as the cup falls from your hands and Jungkook supports your waist, once your knees buckle beneath you. But that doesn’t stop his task, only encourages him, as his lips press harder, and teeth sinks deeper in your skin.

Your breath hitches as Jungkook moves upwards to the junction of your jaw, and your hands find their home in his hair, pressing him closer, not allowing him to breathe, as he ravishes the canvas beneath him.

He licks a stripe over your jawline, and you bite your lips to quiet the sighs that dare to escape you. You feel his thumb press against your mouth, overpowering the pressure and resting itself against your tongue.

Jungkook harshly sucks on your neck, and you bite down on his finger. His touch overwhelms your inexperienced mind, and you quietly cry out under his touch, every sensation seeming twice as much.

You feel Jungkook’s breath against your cheek, and you drunkenly open your eyes, to find him mere centimeters away from your lips, watching how they contract over his finger, and plush out under the pressure.

He slowly removes his thumb from your lips, and rests his own just besides yours – touching, but not intervening. “Let’s make one thing clear, little one” his breath fans over your skin, as he tries to catch his breath, “This body is created for me, and this soul” he presses his hands against your chest, “is merged from mine.”

“Never again will I hear you spew such lies, Reagan” he detaches his face from your cheek, and cherishes your face in his hands.

He looks at you with raw determination and passion, and at this point he could say anything, and you would agree with him. His proximity, his touch and eyes make you feel drunk, and you can’t focus on anything, except how his lips press together with each syllable he pronounces.  

His lips have never before looked so plush and soft, as if made from silk and filled with cotton. You merely shake your head, as his words go over your head – your only focus being the pink prize in front of you.

Oh, what would you do to feel his lips against your own. Lick the sweetness off of them and mold them to your own. But as much as you want to do that, you have no clue what you’re doing.

So, you do the only thing that you’re able to do; you lean closer till your lips are divided by less than a centimeter. And as much as you’d like to close the space, you know that you can’t. You look up and meet Jungkook’s eyes.

The raw vulnerability mixed with unsatisfied desire in his eyes makes you sigh, and all you can do is hope that this isn’t the first time ever, he chooses to deny your wants.

And he doesn’t

His lips overcome the space between yours, and you feel him outlining your lips with his own, his breath mixes with your own. And in no time, he molds your lips together.

At this moment, it feels just right, even if you don’t know what to do under the light pressure he applies to your lips. You let your body wander free, and slowly replicate his movements. He sucks your lower lip into his own, and his hand finds it’s place in your hair, lightly pulling on your scalp, and by reflex you move your head upwards, gifting him an opportunity to slide his tongue over your own.

He massages your tongue, applying and decreasing the pressure, and you let him take control, slowly following his lead. He suckles on your tongue, and you lowly moan, and his lips capture every sound that you release.

Jungkook detaches your lips, and moves towards your neck, he bites the space, slowly moving towards the junction of your chest. You turn your head, to allow him more access, and grab his shoulders, as he presses you against the desk.

He draws delicious patterns over your skin, and you balance your hands against the desk, trying to find some sense of gravity in the clouded universe you have created. He kisses as much of your skin he can, and once he reaches the neckline of your dress, he bites and fights against it to acquire more space of your burning skin.

He licks a stripe in between your breasts and bites the flesh. Once you feel him feverishly sucking your bosom, your hands give out and you fall against the desk. Distinctly you hear something falling, but you can’t be bothered as his lips continue their assault.

His hands trace the sides of your corset and moves lower to the skirt of the dress. He tries to pull the puffy material up, but the fabric barely moves, and you hear him hiss something against your skin.

Within a second he pulls you up and turns your back to his front. Lightheaded, you grab his hip for support, and Jungkook lowers himself to his knees, while kissing every surface of your skin he comes across to.

You turn your head to right and watch in the window reflection how he grabs the lace of your corset in his teeth, and hungrily unties the bow holding your dress in place with his tongue. Your breath hitches as he bites each of the strings on your lower back.

Cold air surfaces, as he continues to pull the corset open, but his feverish breath distributes against your skin, only serving to cause waves of heat. With the last string pulled free, your dress drops to your hips, allowing you to take a much-needed breath before Jungkook yanks it down.

You are left in your undergarments, and the cold air attacks your body, marking your skin with goosebumps. Jungkook torturously slowly drags his fingertips from your ankles upwards. Once he reaches your hips, he presses his nails into the skin, and you let out a sigh.

Jungkook turns you around and steals another kiss, while he grabs your buttocks and lifts your legs around his torso. You feel him moving, but the way he tickles your tongue with his own and massages your backside makes you lose yourself in this moment.

Once you feel your behind pressed against something cold, you open your eyes, only to find yourself on the edge of the desk, in front of the window. You press your legs closer together, urging Jungkook to come closer, but he shakes his head, and kisses up to your ear and whispers, “You’re going to watch very closely,” he massages your inner tights and you let out a trembling breath, “and, Reagan,” he gives you a quick kiss, you reach out to deepen it, only for him to detach, “you will learn what it means to be loved by a man.”

He gets on his knees and spreads your tights wide, now you understand what he meant by watching closely, you are positioned right in front of a window, and from this position you can see everything – your cheeks burn as you watch how he kisses closer to your center.

He bites on the junction of your thigh, and you forget to breathe once you feel his breath right over the place you churn for him the most. He gives a tentative lick over your undergarments, and the foreign feeling makes your hands tremble, and you catch yourself against the edge to hold on to your sanity.

Jungkook savors your taste, rolling his tongue over the flimsy material that divides him from your most intimate space. He has been dreaming of this day for years, and now that you are in his arms, trembling under his touch, it takes all of his self-control to prepare you for the night, that he will make sure you will never forget.

But even a person with the highest willpower has their limits, he can’t stop himself from ripping away your bottoms. He doesn’t wait for your reaction, only distinctly hears your outcry as he drags his tongue over your most sacred place. Your taste explodes on his tongue, and even he cannot hide away the pleasurable sounds from his chest.

You can’t help but moan as you watch how Jungkook tickles your bud in circular motion, switching from quick laps to sucking. You grip anything in your way, once he circles his tongue around your opening, and teases your bud with a flick of his fingers.

The scene is sinful, and you fight to keep your eyes open, drowning in the view in front of you, but all it takes is to push his tongue inside of your walls, for your hands to completely give out and you fall against the desk, relinquishing the sensations you have never previously experienced.

Jungkook drags his tongue in and out, your body trembles, every sensation is new, divine, and oh, so powerful. Your hips awkwardly move against his tongue, chasing something more, but Jungkook presses them down, and sends you a disapproving gaze.

“Let me take care of you,” he kisses your lower lips, “just let go”. He slowly pushes in his finger, and sucks on your swollen bud, you don’t even feel the pressure, your juices mixed with his saliva welcomes the additional stretch.

You feel him on you, inside of you, but somehow that’s not enough. The bubbling sparks in your abdomen only serves to make you whine, needing something more. The pleasure is undeniable, you can’t stop the strings of moans breaking through you, your hands are flying everywhere, nerves jittery, and subconsciously you know that you have gripped the lone documents that were lying on the table.

Jungkook replaces his tongue with his fingers and moves upwards your body. He sucks on every part of your flesh and discovers the brassiere that traps you from being completely naked in front of him. He drags his tongue in circles over the material, sucking on where he guesses your nipple is hiding.

The material sticks to your skin, as he moves to your other breast, cherishing it as much, as he did the previous one. His finger still thrusts in and out of you, and you feel your slick running down his fingers and your arse.

He seamlessly adds another finger, and your walls flutter around his muscle, adjusting to the added pressure. You are a moaning mess underneath him, and your hands scratch his scalp. You pull his hair, as Jungkook clasps your bra open with one hand.

You are under complete submission, and all you can do is cry out, when you simultaneously feel Jungkook adding another finger and biting on your left nipple, while massaging the other one.

You have never felt so full before, and your body is on fire, Jungkook scissors his fingers and draws shapes over your breasts. Once you feel his fingers expanding into a scissor motion, you are close to screaming. He brushes over a particularly delicious spot, and your legs tremble as the pleasure intensifies.

“Jungkook, I-” you breathlessly start, tears threatening to escape you, and you shake trying to catch your footing back in the gravity. But Jungkook doesn’t stop his motions, only adds more pressure. His thumb is still drawing circles over your clit, fingers knuckle deep in your walls, tickling your sweet spot. His mouth is on your breast, licking over the sensitive bud, while his hand is massaging your other breast.

Every sensation doubles by the previous one, and soon you find yourself curling in, trying to keep yourself together. Jungkook detaches from your sensitive mounds and grabs your jaw to face him.

He caresses your cheeks, and lightly pecks your nose. You open your eyes to look at him, you feel on the verge of explosion, and all you manage to do is cry out his name. He shushes you with a peck and lowly murmurs, “Let it go, sweetheart”.

His words clique in your mind and are only certified when he kisses you deeply. You grab his cheeks and keep him close, as you let your body free, and allow yourself to climax against his fingers.

Your high-pitched moan is muffled by Jungkooks’ tongue. He continues to pump his fingers, as you slowly come back to the present. Your limbs feel heavy, muscles still compressing, the aftershock of your orgasm present. You caress Jungkooks hair, when you notice how he’s kissing every part of your face and chest.

“Nice to have you back, love” Jungkook smiles when he notices your gaze on him.

You smile and lean closer for a kiss. Your mind feels numb, and everything seems perfect, you don’t question Jungkook when he wraps his hands around you and carries you towards the bed.

He softly lays you on the bed, and before he manages to take another step, you push yourself to knees, and grab him by the hips. You are right in front of his crotch, and slowly look up. He smiles at your wonderous eyes and caresses your hair.

You reach for his shirt, and slowly start to unbutton it, keeping your gaze on him. Your breath tickles his abdomen, and his skin overcomes with chills. Encouraged you let your lips fall on his lower belly, kissing the skin and slowly moving upwards with each of the buttons popping open.

His hands move towards your head, massaging your scalp. And once you pop open the last button, you let your hands roam over his chest, takin note of every muscle and birth mark, the view never before seen.

You lean over and kiss where his heart is, you distinctively hear him hum, but the heat of his body takes your attention, how you can feel his heartbeat when your lips touch his skin.

Jungkook moves your face upwards, and passionately kisses you, his tongue pushes past your lips, and you let him take the lead, as he moves your jaw upwards and kisses you deeper.

The bed dips, as Jungkook sits next to you not breaking the kiss. His arms wrap around your middle, pulling you closer. He moves towards the bed’s backboard, and you detach your lips, and take the scene in front of you.

 He sits against the backboard, hair ruffled, and legs spread, shirt no where found and you’re able to see his tattoos up-close for the first time. His eyes are squinted, waiting for your next move, and once you see his lips slowly change to a smirk, you are compelled to move closer and capture them as your own.

Carefully you lift your leg over his hip, holding yourself over him, and kiss him once again. His hands massage your back, slowly moving lower, till they wrap around your butt. He presses you down, and your hips push against his crotch.

Your breath hitches over the harsh contact, Jungkook leads your hips in rolling motion, and you let yourself fall against his chest.

“Jungkook,” you sigh out, lost in the sensation and body heat pressed against you. His hands still put pressure over your muscles, and you blissfully kiss the skin in front of your lips.

“Reagan,” his voice sounds strangled, and a whine escapes you, the rough material over your most sensitive parts keeps adding the pressure in your lower belly, while withholding the needed release.

“I need more” you push yourself up and rest your head against Jungkooks, “please touch me,” you push your lips against his, “kiss me, whatever, just-”

You let your hands sneak beneath his trousers, Jungkook puts his hands over your own, and in no time, you are both skin against skin, hands wrapped in each other’s hair, sloppy kisses filling the room.

You feel his length pressed against you core, your slick allowing you to move freely against him. You shudder a breath once you feel his tip at your opening, and you make the first move, and slowly lower yourself against him.

You both moan in sync, his arms wrap around your body, holding you close. Each inch stretches your walls, but it isn’t overpowering, slightly uncomfortable. The heat that blooms within you overrides the unfamiliar feeling, and you look down to see how much more of him you have to take in.

But before your eyes manage to wonder, Jungkook grabs your chin and presses a chaste kiss, “Eyes up here, love”. His hand presses your hips down, and now you fully feel the extent of the stretch. You feel full, to the point you’re not sure you can take more, but his hand continues to apply pressure.

Your lips fall open in a silent screech, a lone tear escapes you, which Jungkook quickly kisses away. His lips suck on your neck, and hand massages your breast, yet the feeling of him stretching you doesn’t escape, only increases as his length continues to penetrate you in places you didn’t know was possible.

Your body tenses, and Jungkook takes notice. His lips attack your neck, swiftly sucking your skin, and his hand leaves your jaw and draws circles over your clit. The numerous sensations help you with discomfort, the heat within you building, and the uncomfortable stretch now seems welcomed.

Once your bum hits his pelvis, with a yelp you fall against him, and a strangled breath escapes you, as he shushes you and whispers sweet nothings in your ear. He caresses your back and lays gentle kisses on your shoulder.

All you hear is whispered “you’re divine”, as your body adjusts to the intrusion. You’re afraid to move, as if your body’s glued to his own. You press your forehead against his, and Jungkooks hands cherishes your face, as he leans in for a kiss.

The moment is indeed divine, no one has ever touched you so lovingly, looked at you with such passion, in which Jungkooks eyes burn, as he looks at you with undeniable desire.

You draw back to see the scene more clearly, his lightly sweat-covered chest gleams in the candlelight, he gives your hand a peck and lowers it over his heart. The pulse is so strong, you feel it by just pressing your fingers in his skin.

Experimentally you slowly raise your hips, and Jungkook falls in the pillows while chanting “oh my god” with scrunched brows. You start a slow rhythm, and feel the uncomfortableness vanish to the back of your mind.

Every inch of him is in you, every vein and movement absorbed by your walls, Jungkooks hands travel to your breasts, and you moan as he brushes a particularly sweet spot inside of you. Your juices flow freely, helping with the movement, and unconsciously your rhythm picks up, angling your hips, for the sweet sensation to capture your mind.

From beneath you, Jungkook grabs your hips and meets your thrusts with his own. The force of his thrusts makes you fall against his chest and moan, as he hits the most desired places with sheer force.

Your body curls in itself on top of him, you try to gather yourself, but each of him movements make your body shudder with spasms of pleasure. Bracing yourself against his shoulders, you try to straighten up, but his thrusts leave your arms shaking. You move your hips intact with his own, chasing the sweet feeling, and moaning in his ear.

Jungkook sits up, and you shudder a breath as he presses right against where you yearn the most, his thrusts take your breath away, as he moves faster, deeper, and more ruthlessly. His nails press against your butt, and you move your head, as he attacks your neck, harshly sucking under your jaw.

You grab his hair, the sensations heavenly, you close your eyes, and fall into the pulsating waves of carnal need. His thrusts leave you senseless, and you swear you see stars in black of your vision.

A sudden boom behind you catches your attention, and your body tenses in shock. You hear Jungkook curse, as your walls contract from the sudden noise. You look behind only to see sparks of different colors fill the sky, as each blast makes the room vibrate.

Absentmindedly you realize - fireworks, gift from Namjoon. Your body slowly falls against the sheets, as Jungkook lays you down. You feel like life is moving in slow motion, as you watch how the sky turns red and feel every inch of you take in Jungkooks length.

Your eyes close with remembrance of red clouds, and Jungkook thrusts into you slowly, making you feel the way his cock throbs inside of you, brushing deeper and deeper, penetrating your lower belly, and moving his body in waves, brushing over every part of you that you kept sacred.

His arms wrap around your shoulders, drawing you closer, and you let your nails dig into his back, as he speeds up his thrusts, now barely a second goes before you feel him pushing deeper and deeper.

You body has a mind of its own, as you curl your legs around his hips, your juices flow and you feel the droplets over your arse and tights, and you hold on to Jungkook for the life of you, as the bed trembles from the sheer force of his thrusts.

Jungkooks moans in your ear only amplifies the pressure in your belly, and you feel the dam inside of you crack. You hold onto him for the life of you, your legs around him shake, and your walls tremble. Jungkook struggles to keep up the rabid speed, once your walls contract around him, and you push his body closer.

You hear him moan, but at this point you’re not sure, whether the high-pitched sound comes from him or you, as the mix of feelings overflow, and you feel your body give in. The fireworks in your mind explode, and the red skies bleed into white sparks, as your body finally gushes and leaves you seeing stars.

Your body pulsates and your vision is still clouded in scarlet clouds, Jungkook thrusts one final time and releases while crying out your name, he succumbs to his weight and falls beside you on the bed. The room is filled with heavy breathes, as you both try to catch a hold on the present.

You move your head towards him, only to catch him already looking at you. He gifts you his starry smile and moves a stray hair out of your vision. You giggle as you look back at the ceiling, watching how it changes color every few seconds, the loud booms still ever present.

You wonder how it’s possible that you feel more drunk than beforehand. The room spins in gentle waves, and you let Jungkook take your hand in his, enjoying the soft kisses he leaves on your knuckles.

The bed moves, and perhaps Jungkook just got up, but your muscles ache, and the idea of turning your head to look at him seems exhausting. So, you let it be. The idea of what just happened, hasn’t settled yet, and the idea of tomorrow scares you, all you can dream of is to close your eyes, and fall into pits of abyss.

But you feel the bed move once again, and see Jungkook kneeling in front of you, “You’re here” you whisper with a tired grin, to which Jungkook shakes his head with an endearing look in his eyes, “How are you feeling, little ruler?”

He presses a wet rag against your chest, and you let out a content hum, your body sweat covered and aching all over, the cold towel works as a great relief. Jungkook carefully cleans your body, following the shape of your breasts and watching how your muscles contract from the cold sensation.

You look unearthly, lost in your mind, naked with only his necklace hanging on your neck and your body covered in his love bites. He lets his intrusive thoughts win, and slowly kisses over the darkening spots on your body, enjoying how your body shudders under his touch.

He deserves this. He deserves to be the one to see you in this state, he cherishes your dreamy eyes and half-conscious words, how your body recognizes and trusts him. He had been dreaming of this day for almost a decade, so the least he’s entitled to, is to experience every single second of it.

“Tired,” you suddenly murmur, “But I still see sparks of stars” you loudly proclaim with a finger pointed to the ceilings, after good 30 seconds of silence. Jungkook laughs at your dreamy state, the wet rug quickly discarded somewhere on the floor, before he moves you back to the pillows and tucks you in.

The last bit of the night is filled with Jungkook tugging you in his embrace and giving you butterfly kisses all over your face, as he whispers sweet nothings of how beautiful you looked dancing in the ballroom.

It’s safe to say you never imagined your first time being with Jungkook, the only option ever presented was a good husband, who would take care of you, but most importantly – your Kingdom.

But as you wake with soft caresses on your scalp and your body intertwined with his limbs, every protest seems to vanish. You haven’t even uttered a word, before you hear him greet you a good morning.

Reluctantly, you open your eyes and look up at him, you are met with his bunny like smile, grinning like a child, who just got the best Christmas present ever only to fall back in his chest with a groan. Yes, it is indeed Jungkook you’re lying on top of. “Did we do what I think we did?” you murmur in his chest, the sole idea of facing reality seems unreasonable, when you can just hide in his chest.

Jungkooks chest rumbles with laughter, and you’d lie, if you’d say that a smile didn’t ghost your lips. The act seems so normal, that you’d almost pretend this is another idyllic day, but the naked chest you’re pressed against seems to remind you of the undesirable truth.

Last night was surprising, just as much as it was divine, and as you stretch on top of Jungkook, the mild pain in your muscles remind you, that you can’t hide away from what’s done. So, you face your fears, and let the words fall before doubts can cloud your mind, “Jungkook, this doesn’t change anything between us, right?”

Whether it be your shaky voice or scared eyes, Jungkook takes notice of your nervous state, and quickly shakes his head with a kiss to your forehead, “It doesn’t, you’re still my little ruler, don’t worry your pretty head about it.”

Don’t worry about it, sounds great, especially when there’s piles of unresolved issues you’ll have to face today. But you know that yesterday you overstepped a line you shouldn’t have, a line that was there for a reason. But he is your friend, and his indifference leaves you reassured, that perhaps it was just that, no strings attached.

You snuggle in his chest, and notice how the sun is high in the sky, “What time is it?” Jungkook merely shrugs, “Not sure, mid-day the least”

You sigh in expiration, guess it’s a good thing, you asked to not be disturbed, the room is a mess, and it would be a nuisance trying to explain it all. But duties call, and you still have to talk with father. The thought alone scares you, but then again, a night has passes, he must have calmed down by now.

“We should get up, I already missed breakfast, which is bad considering everyone is here because of me.” You draw shapes on Jungkooks chest, and conclude that he is comfortable, his heat keeps you warm and the arm around your middle grounding.

“Should we? I have another idea, surely, they wouldn’t mind if we missed starters.” This catches your attention, and you look up. His suggestive smirk makes you giggle, and you connect your lips in a kiss.

He cages his arms around you, and pushes you down on the bed, so he’s on top of you. You giggle at the contact and feel Jungkook smile in the kiss. He lays in between your legs, and slowly grinds against you, you feel his slowly hardening length against your folds, and softly moan in the kiss.

There’s a knock on the door and you curse, maid probably came to check if everything’s alright.  You detach from the kiss, and Jungkook moves to your neck, giving open mouth kisses all across the skin.

“Judy, I’m awake. No need to help, I’ll come down shortly.” You shout, and quickly connect your lips once more. His touch so pleasant, you wonder how you could survive past years, without knowing how soft his lips are.

“Reagan, it’s your father.”

You both stop your movements, and a second passes where you both stare at each other, panic clouded gazes and widened eyes meeting one another. “Shit” Jungkook curses and you both set into motion.

“Give me a minute, father” you yell, as you grab Jungkooks clothes from the floor, and anxiously stuff them under the duvet. Jungkook throws you a robe, and you quickly tie it around your waist.

Your eyes meet, and you frantically try to figure out where he could hide, your en-suite is on the other side of the room, and judging by father’s voice, he’s not in a patient mood, so there’s no time for that.

Jungkook gets your memo, and quickly hides underneath your duvet, just in time, as the door harshly opens. You look over your shoulder, and take a deep breath, while soothing your hair.

“Excuse me father, I drank too much yesterday, so I slept in,” you start with a shaky breath. You watch how his hawk-like gaze travels around your room, and you move closer to him, hoping to change his attention towards you.

“Can I help you somehow?” you try to smile, as he carefully looks your features over. It feels as if he’s examining you, and self-consciously you draw the robe closer around your body. “Have you seen Jeon boy?” is all he says.

“No! Bid goodnight yesterday, and just woke up.” You quickly answer, the nerves in your body sky rocketing, “Has-” you swallow, “Has anyone said anything to you?” your voice shakes. He knows, he must know. Why else would he asks such a question? Father narrows eyes at you, and you await his reprimand.

In stead he throws some papers in your arms, and moves to your door, not before muttering over his shoulders, “Clean up. Be at my cabinet in 15.”

You clutch the papers in your arms and breathe out once the door closes behind him. After good 10 seconds, Jungkook gets up from the bed, and wraps his arms around you from behind. “Oh, sweet heavens!” you sigh out, and your knees tremble. You both start giggling at the stupidity, two adults hiding from father, as if you were 15, sneaking your boyfriend in behind parents back.

“That was a close call” Jungkook whispers in your neck, and you shake your head, while giggling at the absurdity of it all. You let yourself press against his chest, and catch a moment of peace, “What’s in your hands?” Jungkook takes the papers from your clutch.

National newspaper. You read the title “Diamonds are girls’ best friends?” the front page filled with pictures of the diamond necklace Jungkook gave you. You lowly curse, it’s a good bet, that father is still just as furious as yesterday.

You dread the conversation with him, now his cold demeanor makes sense. “I need to get ready.” You whisper as you scan the text, Jungkook still reads the article as you move towards the vanity.

A quite hiss leaves your lips, in the frantic panic you didn’t notice how tense your muscles had become. You hear Jungkook moving closer to you, while asking “Are you alright?”.

You dismiss his concerns with a soft “Muscle pain”, as you sit by your vanity. Jungkook kneels next to you, puts the newspaper on the table and his hands find your tights, slowly massaging your muscles, while asking “here?”. You smile at his antiques, and wonder how this is the same person, society tries to portray as devil.

But just as fast as your smile appeared, one look in your mirror makes your grimaces turn to shock. You push your hair to the side and watch in horror the dark purplish-red mark on your neck.

You screech “Jungkook” and move closer to the mirror, analyzing the damage that he left. You sit back in shock, and let your thoughts run wild, “He definitely saw that. How am I going to explain this?”

Jungkook shushes you, and pats your hair, “You don’t have to explain yourself to anyone, you’re the Queen.”

“Future Queen” you quickly amend. Jungkook watches your frozen state, how your eyes glaze with horror. He kisses over the bruise, and lightly murmurs, “Well, you can be the Queen of my heart in the meantime.” lightening the mood.

Your eyes meet through the mirror, and you push his head away with a soft laugh, “You’re such a flirt.”

You glance at the newspaper and back in the mirror. The necklace is still around your neck, and you lightly graze over it, the first time you see it on your body.

“It is beautiful” you whisper, and Jungkooks hums, his arms wrap around your waist. The diamonds sparkle brightly in the morning sun, but as beautiful as it is, the amount of stress the heavy stones bring is unimaginable.

“How bad is the article?” you saw him reading the newspaper earlier, and judging by fathers’ reaction, nothing good can lie in it. Jungkook lets his lips draw over the diamonds, “They are curious, trying to understand the significance of it.” You bite your lip, neither good, nor bad. You calm yourself, it’s just one article.

“But overall, they say the celebration was a success, so no need to worry.” You breath out, that’s good. People aren’t angered. You can deal with father; your people are on your side.

Thankfully, Jungkook is a great help, he helps you get ready, picks out a dress, that covers the marks and even puts make-up over the deep bruise. You stand by the door, and smile one last time, and mutter, “See you at dinner?”, only to receive the most breath-taking smile.

The walk to fathers’ cabinet is nerve filled. You try to analyze the maids body language, but it’s as if yesterday didn’t happen. Everyone bows with a smile; no judging or curious looks follow you. You step in front of the cabinet. It will be fine. The guard opens the door.

You anxiously step into fathers’ cabinet. He stands in front of his desk, looking at the papers distributed all across it. The room feels suffocating even without any of you speaking.

You step closer, and when his attention swaps to you, you try to muster your brightest smile and step towards him to properly greet him, “Good morning father, I would of came earlier if-” he puts his hand up urging you to stop.

The last bit of courage dies within you, as you assess his clenched jaw and hard gaze, and you know that you are in trouble.

“Reagan, I have always prided myself in letting you live your life freely. Letting you enjoy your childhood, so to speak.” He starts without as much as greeting you.

“But now I find myself in a tough position, and I don’t have another choice but to step in.” Mix of disappointment and bitterness clouds his gaze. He has never looked at you in such a way, your hands start to play with one another, waiting for his next words.

“From now on, the boy,” Father clears his throat, “Prince Jeon is not welcomed in my home.” You watch in shock as father continues, “And any sort of political relations with the Jeon dynasty, will be carried out strictly by me.”

You start to retort but are quickly silenced. “And you will have no contact with him!” Father slightly raises his voice and points a finger at you. Your eyes start to burn, and tears gather at the corners of your eyes, he has never talked to you with such hatred, yet alone raised his voice.

“If you’re talking about yesterday, Jungkook already apologized, he never meant to disrespect you, father.” You quickly ramble and move towards him, trying to defuse the situation at hand.

“Reagan, he not only embarrassed me, made you look a fool, gifted you a bally war weapon, but he threatened the safety of our country!” Father spit out, “That boy knew exactly what he was doing.” He shakes his head and looks away from you.

Even though you can see a flitter of truth in his words, he is still talking about your friend. And as much as you love your father, you know that he has the upper hand, and if things progress in such way, you will not only have to go behind his back, but your Kingdom will face the wrath of standing against Jungkook’s.

But your hands are tied, perhaps you are petty, but you don’t stop yourself, and murmur “He is a man, not a boy.” The bitterness is clear in your voice, and judging by fathers’ reaction, he is shocked by the side you chose.

“You must think of me as a fool,” he steps closer to you, “The whole palace is whispering of how my daughter is a mistress to Jeons!” his neck taints red, and now you know he has let his rage take over.

“I have been lenient, even grown to like the boy. But turns out my daughter has been playing with the devil,” he comes closer to you and yanks the sleeve of your dress down, exposing the love bites Jungkook left last night. You look down, trying to contain the tears that threaten to fall.

“Perhaps then you should ask the lover boy, why he has gathered tens of thousands of his troops at our border.” You quickly look up, looking at dad with fright.

“He is not your friend,” Father shakes his head, “He is our enemy.”

“And you aren’t a child anymore, Reagan. You are the future Queen.” He grabs papers from his desk and hands them to you, “And if you do plan to be one, it’s about time you start acting like one.”

With that father leaves, and you are left alone biting your lips to stop the hysteria that you have been holding in. You put your hand over your mouth, silencing yourself, so the guards outside don’t hear you.

You take a look at the papers father gave you, and every thought of crying disappears, as you see the horror presented to you.

~

Hello everyone! Chapter took longer than expected (ahem, yes, my fault, as it is 18k+), I noticed my posts weren’t appearing in tags, and it took around 2 weeks for Tumblr to fix that (probs, because it was holiday time), but now it’s all good!

Chapter isn’t edited yet, so excuse the mistakes!

And, finally, the backstory is finished, so starting next chapter, the yandere themes will get more and more noticable.

Hope you stick around!

#bts yandere #yandere bts #jungkook yandere #jungkook x reader #prince jungkook #prince jungkook yandere #yandere bts x reader #love is a game #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jungkook #jungkook fanfic

[bradshawsbaby]

Power’s Out

Pairing: Rooster x Wife!Reader

Author’s Note: Just a sweet little idea that came to me while I was driving, partially inspired by one of Miles’ other films, Two Night Stand.

Warnings: Lots of fluff and allusions to sex (nothing explicit).

Late afternoon was just fading into evening when it happened.

You were sitting on the couch in the living room, quickly folding a bit of laundry while watching a random made-for-TV movie that wasn’t very good. Bradley had gotten home from work not long before and had gone to jump in the shower before the two of you ate dinner. Mav and Penny had been over the night before, and you’d cooked way more than you needed to, so it was going to be leftovers night.

Just as you picked up the remote to change the channel, unimpressed by the cringey movie you’d been attempting to give the benefit of the doubt, the TV screen suddenly faded to black. Frowning slightly, you smacked the remote against the palm of your hand a couple times and pressed a few buttons, but nothing happened. It was then that you realized the light in the kitchen had gone off as well.

Bradley suddenly appeared a moment later, a towel wrapped around his waist as he ran a hand through his wet hair. “The lights in the bathroom just went out,” he told you, glancing around the rest of the apartment. 

You hadn’t yet bothered to turn the lights on in the living room since there was still afternoon light streaming through the windows, but when you stood and tried to flick them on, nothing happened.

“The TV just went out, too,” you said, glancing up at your husband. “And so did the light in the kitchen,” you added with a frown.

“I might just need to flip the breakers,” Bradley replied, squeezing your arm gently as he passed you to examine the breaker box in the hallway of your apartment.

Bradley spent the next several minutes flipping random switches that meant absolutely nothing to you. It was times like these when you were extra grateful for your husband and his fix-it skills. “Anything coming back on, baby?” he called out to you every few seconds as you wandered from room to room, testing light switches and checking for the WiFi symbol on your cell phone.

“Nothing yet,” you called back each time, your frown growing. At least it wasn’t too hot today. You’d be really upset if the air conditioning had gone out.

Suddenly, your cell phone started ringing, the name of your superintendent flashing across the screen. “Mr. Scott’s calling, babe,” you told Bradley before answering the call.

It turned out it wasn’t just your apartment that was experiencing problems. The power was out in the whole building.

“I’m trying to get the electric company over here as soon as possible, but I can’t make any promises,” Mr. Scott explained regretfully. He had always been an incredibly nice man. “The power might not be back up until tomorrow. I’m sorry, Mrs. Bradshaw.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about us,” you replied, wanting to put him at ease. You knew some of the tenants in the building were much more difficult and would probably give him a hard time, so you didn’t want to add to his worries.

“Let me know if there’s anything you need,” he told you before wishing you a good night and hanging up.

“Looks like the power might not be back on until tomorrow,” you explained to Bradley as he walked up to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You just laughed as his chest, still wet from his shower, dampened the front of your T-shirt. Running your fingers through his damp hair, you grinned. “Good thing it was just leftovers night. But it looks like we might have to eat them cold.”

“I’ve had worse,” Bradley grinned, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “You know what though, babe? I should probably run down and check on the Robertsons first. Make sure they’ve got everything they need before it gets dark, especially if the power won’t be on again until morning,” he said.

George and Sue Robertson were an elderly couple who lived in the apartment right below yours and Bradley’s. They’d been living in the building for the past ten years and had been incredibly kind and welcoming when you and Bradley first moved in. Their children and grandchildren all lived out of state, so you and Bradley tried to help them out whenever you could. You’d often go grocery shopping for them and Bradley helped out with little odd jobs around their apartment.

“That’s a good idea,” you nodded, smiling up at Bradley. Your husband’s thoughtfulness never failed to make your heart melt. “I’ll make a plate with some food for them, just in case. And you might want to put some clothes on first,” you teased, raising an eyebrow at his half-naked form.

“Probably a good idea,” Bradley winked, dropping a kiss on the top of your head before heading off to your bedroom to get dressed.

You had definitely cooked way too much food last night, but at least it was going to good use now. You prepared a full plate with more than enough for both George and Sue, and there was still plenty left for you and Bradley to eat. By the time you were finished wrapping the food up with tin foil, Bradley walked into the kitchen, clad comfortably in a pair of sweatpants and one of his Navy T-shirts.

“Hmm, good thing I know Sue is so in love with George, otherwise I’d be a little concerned about you rushing off to be her hero,” you joked, placing the plate of food in Bradley’s hands.

“Aw, baby, you know I’m your hero and your hero only,” Bradley replied with a chuckle, kissing you for good measure. “But I probably should bring them some batteries and an extra flashlight, just in case,” he added with a smile.

Thankfully, your husband was always prepared in case of emergency. You had a specific drawer in the kitchen that was filled with matches, batteries, and flashlights, all organized so that they were easy to find in situations such as this.

“I’ll be back soon, honey,” Bradley assured you, piling the emergency supplies on top of the food and heading towards the front door.

“I’ll get the candles out,” you told him, grateful you’d just stocked up on candles recently. Bradley always teased you about your candle collection, but they were your weakness. “Tell George and Sue I said hi,” you added, closing the door behind him.

By the time Bradley returned about twenty minutes later, you’d already filled the kitchen and living room with lit candles, the apartment smelling like a mix of tropical breezes, citrus fruits, and freshly cut flowers.

“Remind me never to tease you about your candle obsession again,” Bradley laughed, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you tenderly. “George and Sue said thank you for the food,” he added, nuzzling his nose against yours.

“Are they doing okay?” you asked, a little worried about them. They were getting up there in age and you didn’t want them hurting themselves in the dark.

“They’re okay,” Bradley nodded, immediately assuaging your concerns. “George said they’ll probably just turn in early so they don’t have to worry about moving around once it gets dark out.”

“Good,” you murmured, sighing softly. “Now the question is what are we going to do?”

“I can think of a few things,” Bradley smirked, waggling his eyebrows at you.

“Not that,” you laughed, smacking his arm playfully. “I’m still sore from last night, Lieutenant,” you added teasingly, raising a pointed brow.

Bradley laughed at that, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “We’ll just have to live like the frontiersmen then, talking and reading to each other by candlelight,” he grinned.

“Okay, Pa Ingalls,” you giggled, shaking your head. “Go hang out in the living room and I’ll bring you some food,” you said, opening the refrigerator once more. “It’ll be good to eat as much as we can, otherwise most of it will go bad.”

“You need help?” Bradley asked, watching you reach for the plates.

“No,” you assured him, smiling. “Go relax. I’ll be in in a minute.”

By the time you got to the living room, two plates of food in hand, Bradley was grinning at you with a twinkle in his eye.

“I have an idea,” he said, taking the plates from you and setting them down on the coffee table.

“Oh?” you grinned, curious to hear what it was that had him grinning like a five-year-old.

“When’s the last time you built a fort?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Not in a very long time,” you laughed in response.

So that was how you and Bradley ended up spending the next hour or so designing the most elaborate fort you could create on short notice, in the middle of a power outage. Bradley dragged your dining room chairs into the living room, while you went and procured every pillow, blanket, and sheet you could find in the apartment. The two of you laughed like a couple of children as you put it all together, setting up a cozy little oasis in the middle of your home.

“Oh, I have the perfect finishing touch!” you cried, hurrying back to your bedroom for a moment. In the closet, you still had a couple boxes of the battery-operated fairy lights you’d purchased when you were helping Penny throw an outdoor birthday party for Amelia. Grabbing some batteries from the emergency drawer in the kitchen, you draped them all over the inside of the fort, giving it a warm glow.

“That is perfect indeed, honey,” Bradley grinned proudly as the two of you grabbed your food and crawled inside.

You forgot all about the power outage as you and your husband spent hours of uninterrupted quality time together, swapping silly stories and laughing until your sides ached. At one point, you grabbed all the junk food you could find in the pantry, both of you promising you’d hit the gym tomorrow as you scarfed down Oreos and pretzels and potato chips. You even started a little competition at one point, taking turns tossing pieces of popcorn into each other’s mouths. Bradley finally had to concede that you were much better at catching them than he was.

“I’m so glad you’re my wife, baby,” Bradley whispered to you later that night, resting on his elbow as he gazed down at you, stretched out on your back against the pillows. He reached down with his free hand to gently caress your cheek.

“That’s good, because I’m so glad you’re my husband,” you smiled in return, lifting your head slightly to meet Bradley in a sweet kiss.

Despite your earlier teasing protestations, you and Bradley did make love in your little makeshift fort, his movements gentle and tender as he whispered soft words of devotion in your ear. You could think of nothing more intimate or special.

Later, once you’d blown all the candles out and switched the fairy lights off, you snuggled up against his chest, the both of you content to rest in peaceful silence. You traced the scar on his neck lightly with your fingertips, which he lifted to his lips and pressed soft kisses to.

“Good night, Lieutenant Bradshaw,” you whispered into the darkness, smiling up at him.

You could feel him smiling, even though you couldn’t see him. “Good night, Mrs. Bradshaw,” he replied softly.

When you awoke the next morning, the power was back on in time for you to make breakfast before Bradley had to leave for work. Both of you glanced at the little fort you’d made, sharing affectionate grins.

“Maybe we can leave it up for one more night,” Bradley suggested as he took a bite of his eggs.

“One more night,” you nodded in agreement, laughing as Bradley leaned over to give you a kiss goodbye.

“Looking forward to it, Mrs. Bradshaw,” he said, winking at you on his way out the door.

#rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick

[cockslutpadalecki]

Ok here’s one. Steve rescues some public figure’s daughter and she’s a total bratty cunt. Before delivering her home safe and sound steve decides to fuck some manners into her 😏

Sound of Silence

Pairing: Mean!Steve x F!Reader.

Words: 1.3K.

Warnings: non-con/dub-con, bratty!reader, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, a little humiliation, a pinch of degradation, female orgasm, 18+. MINORS DNI.

A/N: I don’t know if this is what you had in mind but... this is where mine went, heheh. Beta: @princessmisery666 but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Please support our content creators by sharing our work.

Steve wishes he hadn’t bothered with a lot of things today. Getting out of bed, skipping the gym, saving the senator’s daughter. 

Entitled little princess has barely acknowledged his presence since he rescued her, too busy documenting her “near death” experience for social media. Steve doesn’t get it— the need to share every tiny detail about her life, the need to seek a stranger’s validation because her daddy is too busy paying attention to his mistresses than his own kin. 

Her voice grates on him as he drives her home, her slight nasally twang that causes his temples to throb in irritation. Like plucking a guitar string over and over until it snaps. He’s gonna need one hell of a drink and a couple of women or five to cleanse himself of this experience.

“Yeah, that frozen ice guy… Colonel America or something, I dunno,” she mutters into her cell phone as she mindlessly checks her manicure before tutting in disgust. “Shit, you ruined my nails,” she adds, aiming it at Steve.

Colonel America? Is the vapid little bitch for real?

“Sure, I’ll get Sonny to drive me over as soon as I’m home, if the old man decides to ever put his foot on the gas.” 

Steve violently swerves the car to the left and pulls up at the side of the road, his hands shaking as he puts the car into park.

“What the hell are you doing?” she moans, finally pulling her attention away from her cell and hangs up. 

“You can walk from here,” he tells her curtly.

She scoffs incredulously. “Walk? These are Louboutins!” She points down at her heeled feet in horror.

“You got hands, carry them.” Steve presses the button to unlock her door, the distinct click loud in the silence of the car. 

“You promised you’d take me home. What if someone attacks me?” 

Steve watches her eye the long winding road nervously, the old and gnarled trees bowing overhead, giving the road a tunnel-like appearance. 

“Sure they’ll change their mind real quick when you start talking.”

He enjoys the way her brow furrows at that— a mixture of confusion and hurt, and his crotch stirs a little. 

“Just wait ‘til I tell my Daddy about this,” she dramatically huffs again before slowly gathering up her purse and pushes open the door. Steve can tell she’s purposely taking her time, no doubt hoping he’ll have a change of heart and tell her to remain in the car, but he’s giddy at the thought of driving back to the compound in silence.

He chuckles. “I doubt he’ll care, in fact, he’ll probably thank me for leavin’ you out here.”

She opens her mouth to speak, and suddenly Steve is plagued with thoughts of stuffing his cock down her throat to shut her up, but he knows she’ll still find a way to piss him off while she’s gagging on his dick. 

She tuts as she hurries out of the car, hand on the door ready to push it closed when she changes her mind, glaring at him as she leaves it wide open and begins to walk off. 

Fucking brat.

Steve watches her through the windshield, enjoying the view of her ass wiggling from side to side a little more than he cares to admit when she changes trajectory and walks in front of the car, blocking his way. 

Crossing her arms over her chest, she stares him down in contempt. He feels his jaw tighten as he curls his hands into strained fists, itching to hit something. With trembling fingers, he manages to roll down his window with the press of a button.

“Move,” he calls out to her.

“Not until you agree to take me home, like you promised.”

“Your Daddy promised me you weren’t a stubborn little cunt, but I guess we’re all breaking them today, aren’t we?”

Her features twist at his words, clearly having never been spoken to this way before, but still she stands firm. Steve moves to turn on the ignition, the roar of the engine making her jump momentarily, and his cock twitches again at the sight of seeing her scared. 

“Move out of the fuckin’ way before I get out and move you myself,” he warns. “With force.”

She shakes her head in defiance, shuffling closer to the hood. 

Steve snaps. He shuts off the car and climbs out almost blind with rage, storming towards her in three large strides. Her arms drop to her sides when she realises he’s intent on seeing through his threat, and stumbles backwards a little in an attempt to create distance. 

He’s too fast for her, grabbing at the nape of her neck and yanks her hard against his chest. She slaps out at him, but her blows feel like kitten licks on his skin.

“Ow, let go!” 

“I warned you, didn’t I? Gave you the opportunity to do the right thing, but no, you just had to push me,” he grits out and with one swift move, he forces her over the hood.

She squirms against him, her ass brushing over his groin and he growls deeply under his breath. Steve quickly flips up her skirt, marvelling at her supple and delicate skin before his eyes drift lower, over the dark wet patch staining her panties. His cock swells at the sight and he inwardly groans, suddenly desperate to taste her.

“Did you piss your pants, little girl?” he mocks with a small laugh, using the fingers of his spare hand to run them across the saturated fabric. He shouldn’t be so aroused by the fact she might’ve, but it arouses him even more to think she’s turned on. She bucks against his hand when his fingertips slip over her folds, bunching the damp material between them. 

“N-no,” she stutters. 

“So you always get this wet when you’re scolded, huh?” Steve removes his hand from the nape of her neck to join the other, and she yells when he rips off her underwear in one sharp tug. “Bet Daddy’s little girl has never been told off in her privileged little life.”

She answers back, “F-fuck you asshole.” 

His blood boils, and he hurriedly rushes to open his belt and jeans to pull his hard cock free. She continues to struggle against the hood, but the moment he sinks into her silky heat, all fight in her ceases. She sags against the hot metal, but her pussy tightens harder, clamping down around Steve like her life depends on it. 

She whimpers pathetically, a complete juxtaposition to her incessant talking and he feels his gut stir, enjoyment hot in his veins.

“Now you forget how to speak?” he tuts as he snaps his hips hard, thrilled by the sad little whines she makes. “Couldn’t shut you up earlier, or is it the need for an audience that gets you off?”

“Huh?” She sounds fucked out already. Dumb cunt. 

“Don’t feel like broadcastin’ this to your fans, no? Show them what happens when you disrespect someone who’s just tryin’ to help you?” His words punctuate— harsh and fierce, perfectly in time with his thrusts. 

“I-oh g-god.”

Slippery warmth gushes over his flesh as she tenses beneath him, wave upon wave of rippling heat pulsing and contracting around his cock. 

“Are you coming?” he asks, curious even though the answer is evident. All that escapes her is a thick, swollen moan and Steve laughs, more amused than he thinks he’s ever been in his entire life. “Who would’ve guessed you just needed fucking into silence,” he adds, draping his weight over hers. Her skin is clammy when it ripples against his hips, and he doesn’t miss the way she discreetly pushes back against him, like she wants it.

“But I didn’t say you could come, did I?” he whispers into her ear. “Not until I’ve taught you some goddamn manners.”

***

ALL CE: @buckymydarlingangel @broadwaybabe18 @captain-asguard @chamberofsloths @cevansgurl @dreamlessinparis @deanwinchesterswitch @fandom-princess-forevermore @hurricanerin @jvstjewels @la-cey @ladybug05 @livstilinski @ladydmalfoy @mugi-chwan95 @navybrat817 @otomefromtheheart @oneoftheprettynerds @patzammit @rebel-stardust @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @sammykb1994 @syrenavenger @straywords @saiyanprincessswanie @sunwardsss @selfsun @threeminutesoflife @vicmc624 @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @xoxonotme

4EVS: @amirra88 @andreasworlsboring101 @b3autyfuldisast3r @cheesyclaire @dangertoozmanykids101 @daughterofthenight117 @dandywinchesterbras @deangirl93 @doozywoozy @foxyjwls007 @geekofmanyforms @heyyouwiththeassbutt @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @ilovefanfic86 @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @letsby @letsdisneythings @labella420 @mogaruke @maliburenee @notyourtypicalrose @nik2writes @obsessivelycapricious @patrick-hockslutter @princessmisery666 @phildunphyisadilf @roxyfan14-blog @sage-writing @sea040561 @sweeterthanthis @slutformarvelmen @simpformarvelmenandwoman @smokeandnailz @stoneyggirl @stoneyggirl2 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @thegirlnextdoorssister @unfortunate-brat @warriorqueen1991 @xoxabs88xox

#letsby #answered #request #steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #chris evans fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

[apocalypse-shuffle]

BATMAN | BAT FAMILY (assorted canon)

────────────────────

────────────────────

“Long Overdue” (Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on an ambush when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.

| SFW, canon typical action, Reader & Bruce are divorced, -angry!reader & Caribbean-American!Reader (kinda)

| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source: Gotham Knights video game)

| 1k+ words

| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven. (series masterlist)

“Baaats!”

At Dick’s pointed tone, thrown across the battlefield as he’s cornered by six of Black Mask’s and Penguin’s combined men, Bruce clenches his teeth harder.

“Ah shit.” Jason throws one goon into two more with a grunt. “If golden boy’s getting panicky, what’s that mean for the rest of us?”

Dick takes two guys out with an escrima stick.

“Har har, Hood.”

Jason shrugs from the other side of the factory floor, looking increasingly more frustrated and likely to abandon Bruce’s ‘no gun’ stipulation for their shared mission as he’s ganged up on.

“This really isn’t looking good, Bats.”

Barbra’s voice coming into his earpiece just adds to the steady growth of gray hairs on his head. Bruce brings his hands up to block the swing of a crowbar from a man wearing a crude approximation of Black Mask’s face.

“Give me a status update, Oracle.”

“To put it eloquently? You’re fucked.”

Her forced glibness makes Dick throw out another pointed call of his name and Jason cackle. Bruce just sighs.

“What are you suggesting?”

He regrets asking immediately after he does at Barbara's next words.

“Well, with Batgirl away, Robin out, and Gordon and the rest of the GCPD running interference to keep the victims away from Mask’s remaining men I’m saying you hit the emergency backup button.”

Bruce grunts as he goes down to swipe two mens’ feet from under them, cape swishing in a low arc behind him and then catching the air as he pushes himself up and punches another out.

“No.”

There’s a groan in his earpiece.

“I really think now’s the time to practice the humility we’ve been working on, B!”

“I wish you luck with that,” Jason grunts before a quiet: “Fuck it.”

Bruce braces himself for the onslaught of bullets from his second son when the sound of the large skyline window shattering echoes around the spacious room. A figure drops in following the cascade of glass.

The whole room seems to pause, then, during which the figure rises out of their crouch.

“Oh holy shit,” falls past Jason's mouth before they start moving.

In the rush of the night and with the distance between the last time he saw you, Jason might not recognize your voice, but Bruce does immediately.

“Oracle! Explain, now.”

Barbara’s voice is unbothered as she speaks.

“First, the next time you demand an answer from me you can do your own recon, and Second, you need the help so I don’t want to hear it.”

“Yeah Bruce,” your voice in his ear causes him to take an unceremonious hit to the abdomen. “Respect the woman. She’s the reason I’m over here saving your pompous ass.”

As Bruce backtracks from the man and catches the guy's leg when he goes to kick him, you’re already moving. You dodge in and out of groups of men, using your momentum to get them on the ground and not letting them get back up.

He throws his assailant to the floor.

“I thought you said you didn’t want anything to do with Gotham?”

You kick a woman into him and he catches and electrocutes her before dropping her to the ground.

“I said that about you not Gotham, and Nightwing’s here so I had to come,” you counter.

Bruce grunts as you get low to strike a man in the knee caps with your baton and then bowl him over.

Nightwing and you end up back to back between one blink and the next and Bruce can already feel a headache coming on as he takes out four more goons.

“I for one am very happy you're here, Nightfall.”

Jason snorts from off to the side, already spurred back into action, but blessedly with his guns holstered, and punches a person's nose in.

The crunch reverberates over the coms.

“Of course your name’s Nightfall. You fit right goddamn in.”

You laugh, it makes his heart clench. It’s been almost a year since the last time he saw you well (he’d seen you at Stephanie’s funeral but you’d fervently ignored him), and the last full conversation you’d had hadn’t exactly ended amicably between the two of you.

It’s like it’s five years ago - back when you still worked together - as the fight begins to rapidly turn in their favor. Where the droves of goons had seemed endless minutes ago they were now getting smaller and sloppier.

You were an unexpected obstacle and Bruce’s sure whatever sorry canon fodder Mask and Pinguine had scrounged up weren’t old enough to know who you were, let alone how to anticipate how you fought.

Hell, Bruce had grown familiar with you over the course of several years and the night you left your hit had still managed to catch him off guard.

It’s as things are slowing down that the other side throws their own curveball. A shot rings out, it’s not Jason’s, and then all of a sudden you’re a blur in front of him as you shove Hood out of the way.

Bruce’s breath catches in his throat when a pained whimper comes from one of you and he’s running before he’s fully realized it, Dick at his side.

He stops and kneels next to the two of you, quickly assessing that the bullet meant for Jason is now embedded in your arm. The compromise in your suit should make seeing the skin underneath easy but the bullet wound gushes crimson over whatever brown that could’ve been showing. The only good part was that Bruce could also see an exit wound. He doesn’t think as he reaches out.

You knock his hands away, “I’m fine, Bats.”

“You’re bleeding,” he forces out.

Even behind the mask the look you shoot him is nasty.

“I’m fully well aware,” you stretch out your shoulder and wince before forcing yourself to your feet. “I’m competent enough to tell that much.”

“I never said you weren’t.”

He watches you split your attention between him and a now getting up Hood.

“Oh, but aren’t you always on some holier than thou bullshit?”

Your voice turns sickly sweet and Bruce sighs.

“Now’s not the time for your petulance, you need to get that checked.”

Holding your arm you slowly turn fully to him with a tilt of your head.

“Excuse me?”

Bruce clenches his eyes shut and forces himself to stop reacting and to start thinking. He’s not going to get you anywhere if he makes you feel stupid. Talking to you like he does the kids has never once worked (and if he was being honest with himself it didn’t work on them either), he’s just operating on emotion.

When he opens his eyes again you're still staring at him, hip cocked and the weight of your glare firmly in place. No distance, it seemed, was going to stop him from being able to read you.

He doesn’t get a chance to speak before snickering distracts everyone though.

As a collective you, him, and Dick turn towards where Jason is struggling to contain himself. He waves you all off.

“No no, don’t mind me. I’m just enjoying someone not treating B like he’s God for once.”

Off to the side Dick starts to grumble before you move to watch Jason. Your point is almost accusatory as you indicate the gun clad man with no affiliate insignia on his chest.

“Who are you again?”

It’s mean, your tone icy as you look him up and down.

Jason stops laughing.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean, lady?”

You and the 19 year old go rigid as you stare one another down. Jason looks like he’s about to get vindictive any second and you look seconds away from tearing him and Bruce a new asshole, never mind that you just took a bullet for him.

It’s Dick, as per usual, who saves them all.

“Alright, how about we all just take a breath. Batman needs to go deal with the cops, who according to Oracle have finally gotten here. Nightfall it was nice to have you back, however briefly. And Hood, chill.” From where he’s planted himself between you and Jason he mimics taking a deep breath. “Everybody just chill.”

As the both of you start gearing up to go Bruce finds his voice.

“You should all come down to the cave to get checked up,” his jaw clenches. “Please.”

“Mm,” you purse your lips, arms shaking as you scoff but otherwise (thank god) nod your head. “Fine. I could stand seeing Agent A and Robin again.”

You stare at him hard afterwards and Bruce wants to say something but the words lodge at the base of his throat again and even clearing it doesn’t help. Eventually you clap Nightwing on the back before sighing and sliding close to him to press the call button for the Batmobile that’s on his belt yourself.

The indicator sounds and the easy peel of the tires moving around a corner follows your departure as you walk out the exit not swarming with police and hop into the vehicle.

He wasn’t able to say what he wanted but the thought of you in the Batmobile makes him feel warm enough. Now if only-

“Hood?”

Jason only stares at him and Bruce finds himself at a loss, a feeling that’s becoming familiar when around his son. He wants to get that limp checked out like it’ll personally improve his own health, along with whatever other ailments Jason’s managed to acquire running around on his own.

‘Like he would’ve been today if he hadn’t been desperate enough to cave and call,’ something whispers in his head.

Jason had the situation handled initially, and so close to the outskirts of the city Bruce hadn’t even known this transaction was happening at all, he didn’t have to bring them in on it and Bruce is certain he wouldn’t have if getting the kids to safety hadn’t been Jason’s top priority.

Dick waves his grappling gun, “I’ll race you there.”

Jason scoffs, only a domino masking his identity because he’d been forced to blow his helmet up in a last ditch effort to get Bruce’s attention.

”I’m not a child,” but then he looks at the Batmobile and his stance becomes just that much more open. He points a challenging finger at Dick. “But I definitely don’t want to be stuck in a closed space with Nightfall either, so you’re on, Goldy.”

The two of them swing off together making all sorts of noise and the vice around Bruce’s heart loosens a little. Everyone was secured.

“You didn’t tell her, did you?”

Bruce grunts as he advances towards Gordon.

“I was busy.”

Barbara scoffs, “Even my professors don’t take excuses like that B, don’t give me that. She deserves to know.”

“She’s here now. I’ll tell her eventually.”

“Mhm, sure,” she intones. “You have until you get back.”

Bruce doesn’t get to argue with her before the woman logs off.

…TBC

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed! This is part one of a series. Mind any typos I’ll get to them eventually.

#bruce wayne #batman #black!reader #black y/n #black!batmom #•long overdue (the series) #batman x black!reader #bruce wayne x black!reader #Caribbean!Reader #batman x batmom #divorced!batmom #batman imagine #batmom & jason todd #bruce wayne imagine #batfamily imagine #batfamily x batmom #batfamily x reader #batfamily x black!reader #batmom x jason todd #batmom angst #batman angst #bruce wayne angst #batmom!reader

[phoenixcatch7]

Thinking about possible totk dlc again... Listen, we all know we want it XD.

Thing is, I've read the interviews, and I think Nintendo is right. There's just no more mechanics they can add to the game without completely breaking it. Totk is maxxed out on mechanics and options and playability. There really is nothing more they can add ability wise without bogging the whole thing down and causing a million problems, both for themselves and players.

But that's not all there is in a game, is there?

There's master mode, for one. Gold enemies are missing from totk entirely, never mind all the craziness of regenerating enemies, new mob camps just floating around, the gleeok they'd probably put on the great sky island. People loved master mode in botw, there's no reason not to at least drop that button back in.

But... People do have a few complaints. There's stuff they're missing, stuff that leaves loose ends, stuff that wasn't explained well enough. It all mostly boils down to one thing.

Story.

We could have an answer to where the divine beasts and all the sheikah tech went. We could find a giant scrapyard at the bottom of a new/old chasm because hyrule tossed everything in that could be pried up. There could be like five remaining active guardians, just so we can mess them up like we did in botw. There's voids where water is on the surface, there's plenty of space! It'd solve both the 'where tf did they go' and the 'man I wish we still had guardians' issue in one fell swoop.

We could get casual dialogue that all the divine beasts were driven out to sea and sunk! I don't know! Some sort of closure! We could talk about generational trauma responses! The instinctive fear of sheikah tech if there is one! Link is certainly canonically traumatised, did you see him with the first sky tower??

We could get wolfie back! Update his teleportation code so he can keep up with our stupid endeavours and not get caught in crossfire! Make him immune to zonai tech, idk.

We could get a resolution to kass and Penn! That whole storyline ended so sadly, and the lack of kass is straight up disturbing. We could rescue him from the depths where he fell in or smth idk!! Just because you're a bird does NOT mean you can fly a kilometer + straight up in pitch black through a narrow cylinder with lethally toxic sides. Now he's got enough material for life! (and probably trauma. The only food down there is stuff the yiga brought, which - well, it's not like they'd worry about thieves down there.

That stupid chef from lookout landing who ran off to the castle. That's TOTALLY a quest come on :(. Let him come home.

More lookout landing expansion, if you're desperate for stuff that isn't 90% dialogue! Please let me install bigger towers and a bathing area and more shops or SOMETHING. Little outlet stalls from every capital! Let me rebuild the first home in castle town! I! D! K!

More newspaper news! We could randomise it like the spider man ps4 news feed, that was hilarious. Absolute hogwash rumours and stupid feuds between neighbours and the results of pumpkin growing competitions! Mix it up, traysi had bonkers stuff, it was so good. What does life look like from inside the world?

Hylia gossip? We know she doesn't keep strictly to her 'find shrine rewards for increased gains, link' thing. Let her ask link for random stuff for 'power buffs' and give him, like, a random buff that lasts precisely 24 minutes.

Maybe even a 'now we opened the plateau again, people want to investigate' side plot. No one wanted to see :(. I didn't like that the only people up there were yiga :((. Send some new research team dude to wax lyrical and beg link for photos of different areas or symbols.

Gloom hands should be able to attack link in the depths. This would solve nothing and in fact make things much worse, but it happened to me twice and it was so much worse than on the surface lol.

Maybe some idiot managed to make it to a Sky island with balloons but now they can't get down, whoops lol. Some of them really aren't that high up and there's a lot of very determined people XD.

Someone's been captured by the yiga and link has to do a full infiltration and smuggle them the keys to their cell. Come on, the yiga base is underutilised!!

The gerudo stable was being shut down because of the sandstorm turning away travellers. After we solve that, maybe we could help reopen it? It made me so sad...

Link vs the flower lady. She wants a sample of every single flower in hyrule to get it all nice for her majesty! She remembers his crimes...

Link and the new sages could have a silly bonding quest each! Let him test his mettle against them in a spar! I don't know!

The ability to pet dogs and horses! An idle sitting animation that makes link sit down properly to enjoy the view!

Heck, a master cycle equivalent....

There's just a almost infinite amount of options available for real, actual content, it doesn't just have to be new mechanics and new dungeons. Yes, it gets the adrenaline going, but neither the fans nor Nintendo want nor need more of that.

We know the story is more lacking in botw/totk than previous zelda games, an understandable and acceptable sacrifice when you're working with such a huge and complex open world as this, but this is the perfect opportunity to fix that, Nintendo, don't you see? Give that incredibly elaborate coding a break and give the writers something else to chew on.

Tag what quest line or question you want answered in the comments or tags!

#long post #I had a lot of ideas #loz #legend of zelda #tears of the kingdom #totk #loz totk #botw totk #zelda totk #botw #tloz #tloz totk #tloz botw #the legend of zelda #It'd probably be a lot cheaper than installing yet more mechanics into that poor incredible physics engine too lmao #loz tears of the kingdom #tloz tears of the kingdom #totk dlc #Totk ideas