wrap around braided hair

YOI Headcanon

HC that Otabek is really fluffy and sappy and romantic with Yuri. Like he’ll be the first to hold Yuri’s hand because Yuri gets too afraid to do it in public, and if they’re standing around, he’ll wrap his arms around him. Or Otabek will braid his hair, buy Yuri flowers just because, or surprise him with hugs from behind.

Playing House

Originally posted by cindyctw75

Intro: So I wrote this one out of the blue the other day when I was inspired by a prompt kinda thing that read: “I’m sorry that I got way too into playing house and accidentally kissed you passionately.”  - so that is where this came from.  

This is also for @trekken81 who wanted a fluffy Bones story so this is as fluffy as it gets I think haha

Oh and this has a little bit of the Bones Headcanon: where Bones takes his date’s pulse to know if they like him - this is the fic I was writing where I got the idea, and it’s in there a little, but I want to write a fic where that is kinda the main focus.  Eventually…

ALSO: Sorry peeps but there will be no Messy p.t. 2 on Sunday because finals are kicking my ass and the only reason I am posting this is because I had it already done and haven’t posted in a while.  Sorry y’all. 

Pairing: Bones x reader

Word Count: 1,903

Summary: You are playing house with Bones, Jim, and Joanna McCoy.  Fluff ensues.  


“Okay.  You can play daddy, and Auntie Y/N can play mommy!" 

You locked eyes with Bones as his daughter assigned the different roles, and he rolled his eyes and shrugged at you. 

"And Uncle Jim can be my doggie!” Jo squealed and hopped over to Jim who had an incredulous look on his face. 

“Awww, Jo, why do I have to be the doggie?  Why can’t your daddy or Y/N be the doggie?” Jim whined, and you held back a snicker. 

“Because your hair is fluffy and Auntie Y/N and daddy are gonna get married.” Jo said matter-of-factly, leaving Jim with his jaw dropped. 

“Uh, peanut?” Bones started, giving you a side-glance as he grabbing his daughter’s wrist to get her attention, “Auntie Y/N and I aren’t getting married." 

Jo looked very seriously into her daddy’s eyes, crossing her little arms over her chest, "Well I say you are.  And you said this is my game, didn’t you, daddy?" 

Bones looked flabbergasted at his little girl, and you couldn’t help but grin at the helpless look on his face.

"Why yes I did, Jo-bean.” Bones sat back on his heels, “I guess it’s alright if we get married in the game.”

“No, in real life too!” Jo assured, leaving all three of you speechless as she quickly began setting out toys and blabbering on about the game of house you were going to play.  It was all very elaborate. 

You caught Bones’ eye and gave him a quick grin, hoping beyond hope that your cheeks weren’t as red as his were.  

“Okay, daddy, you are leaving for work now, give me and Auntie Y/N a hug.” Jo commanded and Bones shuffled on his knees over to you, giving you and Jo a quick hug, then turning and shuffling over to Jim, giving him a pat on his head with a smirk. 

“Have fun at school!” Jo called, to Bones as he was knee shuffling out the ‘door’. 

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Oasis Abandon

(Available on AO3)
Pairing: Link/Zelda (BOTW post-game)
Words: ~2350
Summary: Link and Zelda attend a Gerudo wedding at the Southern Oasis, complete with the appropriate Gerudo garb. Taking the evening to enjoy each others companionship, they share stories, sneak a little wine, and give in to abandon..
Notes: Requested by the lovely @aliceknowstime. TY to @honestground for beta-ing :)

The note is written in a crisp and prim hand, the ink a rich earthy brown and the parchment smelling of cinnamon and spice.

Champion. Princess, it reads. For your aid in protecting Vah Naboris, Chief Riju invites you to attend the wedding of her advisor, Perda, to be held at the Southern Oasis. You will attend as the Chief’s honoured guests. Please find the appropriate Gerudo attire enclosed. Buliara.

Link takes a moment to process the note. Wedding? Gerudo attire? He eyes the large parcel sitting on the table with some reservation. Their trip to Gerudo Desert was meant to be routine; meet with Lady Riju, check on Vah Naboris, maybe race a sand-seal or two. Link checks the date of the wedding and sees that it won’t interfere with their work, and, his curiosity getting the better of him, unravels the fine twine that secures the parcel.

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Stumble Through Heaven- Part 1: The Calm - A Morrigan/Selene Fic


Sooo @tbhfangirl19 asked me for Mor/a lady someone basically. So now you have a two part Mor/ladies fic with Mor and…who is effectively my OC (she’s like…canon in five lines, she’s Viviane’s sister and this all definitely happened in canon) Anyway. I got carried away so now there’s lots of lesbian emotions flying around. Have at it. @king-havilliard figured you would appreciate the tag. Thank you for reading this/humouring my yelling about it @pterodactylichexameter

Title: Stumble Through Heaven - Part 1: The Calm 

Summary: (my timings are wonky, this doesn’t technically work in canon but it’s close enough and by the time I realised it didn’t work I was already attached to the idea and it was too much effort changing it for a relatively small detail) After her fight with Feyre Mor seeks solace in the Winter Court camp and runs into an old flame, Selene, Viviane’s younger sister. They revisit their history with one another. Rating will go up in the next part but this one is SFW. 

Teaser:  “How are you?”

There’s enough pointed emphasis in the last word that Mor knows the female can still read her as easily as she remembers how she prefers her tea. She turns away, looks down the sharply sloping hill to the battlefield again, churned and ragged and raw. A good mirror for the way she feels. All she says however in answer to Selene’s question is, “Fine.”

To her surprise, that response tugs a soft huff of laughter from the female sitting by her side, legs folded beneath her, back perfectly straight, “All these years, Morrigan,” she says quietly, taking a drink of her tea before shaking her head. “All these years and you still think you can hide from me.”

Link: AO3 

Despite the thick heat of the Summer Court, the air wet with blood after a day of battle and the mourning tears that followed, the Winter Court encampment still somehow feels cold to Mor. A sharp breeze lifts, tugging at her hair, stirring it around her face, as though trying to pull her away somewhere. She ignores it.

Still in the clothes she had worn when she’d descended down into the battle, not bothering to strip out of it. The armour feels like a lead weight now, dragging her weary limbs down. Exhaustion gnaws at her and she should sleep, should go back to her own camp, her own tent, curl up and let that fatigue drag her into tomorrow but…

She had needed to get out, to get away from all of it. Cassian’s injuries had rattled her, even if the stupid prick would be alright. She had been there, feet from him as he’d been torn apart before her eyes and she’d felt sure she was watching his death, helpless. Helpless again when she had returned to the camp and found Feyre gone, had to restrain herself from shaking that sister of hers to make her tell her where she had gone so she could find her and drag her back. Helpless as she had looked into Rhys’ terrified eyes and been forced to confess that she had been tricked, that she had been lied to, again, that those closest to her would rather go behind her back than trust her.

Then the fight with Feyre in her tent after she had returned. In one piece, thank the Mother, the things that she had said to her, the things she had heard come tearing from her friend’s lips. She closes her eyes, hugging herself, her fingers gripping onto her arms until it hurts. That breeze lifts again, carrying with it the tears that burn her eyes and fall as she bows her head, shaking, attempting to master herself.

They’re at war she doesn’t have time to sit here and feel sorry for herself, she should be in camp, helping, planning, doing something. Instead she’s sitting here, like a child pathetic and frightened and helpless all over again. She holds her head in her hands, shaking, not caring who sees. None of the Winter Court soldiers are likely to bother her. They would have to come seeking her, where she’s huddled on the edge of this war camp, over-looking the battle field that Feyre had tricked her onto, where Cassian had nearly died right in front of her, where-

She looks up at the soft, lithe footsteps that sound at her side. A beautiful Winter Court fae stands there, looking down at her. Selene. Viviane’s sister. It’s been decades since they’ve been this close to one another, not since before Amarantha. Yet she hasn’t changed. She remains the same. A tall, willowy pillar of frozen steel, cold and unyielding, precise and elegant as a sculpture. Her long silver hair restrained by a thick braid wrapped around her head like a crown. She looks strikingly like her older sister, except her eyes, they’re sharper, colder, and of a steely grey, a windswept mountain to her sister’s bright ocean sapphire.

For all they look alike however, there are no squealing outbursts and desperate hugs between the two of them. Only quiet. The same kind of quiet that always fills Mor whenever she looks into those pale, fathomless eyes, the same kind of quiet she wishes she could exist in for the rest of her life. The tension seems to bleed from her as that silence sweeps through her, a bone deep calm that she only ever feels around a few people in this world.

Wordlessly, taking Mor’s lack of brusque demand for her to leave her alone as acceptance of her presence, Selene carefully lowers herself down onto the ground, then passes over a cup of tea. Mor accepts it gratefully, holding it between her hands to warm them from the chill night that’s starting to draw in around her. She sniffs at the tea before she takes a sip. The mixed scents of citrus and apple draw a small, sad smile from her. All these years…All these years but Selene still remembers her favourite blend.

They sit in silence for a long moment, sipping their tea, Mor grateful for the other female’s company, despite the faint knot of tension that starts to pulse in her stomach at her presence. So long, it’s been so long since they were together, all this time, both likely fearing the other lost after Amarantha’s conquest and yet…Yet still the quiet embraces them, holds them tight, somehow more intimate than the tight embrace Viviane had swept her into when they had seen each other again.

It’s a gift, this respite that she offers her. But eventually, Mor finds herself asking quietly, “How are you?”

Selene stiffens almost imperceptibly, takes a sip of her own tea, mint, if Mor isn’t mistaken. Even without the scent she would have known. She remembers her too. Then she says, “Well.” Her voice is the same as she remembers it, like snow melting from a mountainside, cool and heavy and smooth, with that soft rasp to it that makes her shiver.

It had been a loaded question, a question asking after how she had fared all these years they had been apart, with the distance of grief and loss between them. That she had chosen not to answer it, to confine their discussion to the present…Says all she needs it to.

She turns to face Mor, her eyes seeming to glow a dark silver as the light from the camp behind them catches, “How are you?”

There’s enough pointed emphasis in the last word that Mor knows the female can still read her as easily as she remembers how she prefers her tea. She turns away, looks down the sharply sloping hill to the battlefield again, churned and ragged and raw. A good mirror for the way she feels. All she says however in answer to Selene’s question is, “Fine.”

To her surprise, that response tugs a soft huff of laughter from the female sitting by her side, legs folded beneath her, back perfectly straight, “All these years, Morrigan,” she says quietly, taking a drink of her tea before shaking her head. “All these years and you still think you can hide from me.”

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And I You.

Originally posted by whenimaunicorn


Note:I hope you guys enjoy! It can be found on my Ao3!

Requested by no one! This is a late birthday gift for @ateliefloresdaprimavera!

Your father had been a dear friend to King Ragnar, meaning you have grown up with his sons. Out of the five sons, you have always been closer to Ivar. When your father had died Ivar stayed by your side the whole time. It was very uncharacteristic to those who only know the youngest Lothbrok son to be stubborn and ruthless. Towards you, Ivar was kind and caring. It only seemed as romantic feelings grew during your time of grieving. You two have been courted for sometime now, although no one but Aslaug knows. The main reason the relationship has been kept a secret was due to you only being a blacksmith’s daughter. You feel as though Ivar can not be known to be courting a blacksmith’s daughter for he is a prince.

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Moving On Without Us

Ttile: Moving On Without Us

Pairing: Bucky x Reader, T’challa x Reader

Genre: Angst 

Summary: Bucky moved on. Little did he know he left not one but two behind.

Bucky and (Y/N)’s story started in Bucharest. The city where Bucky’s new life started after his years of brainwashing under Hydra. The city where (Y/N) decided to start her life anew after the death of her parents in an unfortunate car accident.

Bucky was finally free from Hydra and has settled into the tiny safe house he found. His life day in day out was simple at best, he spent most of his waking moments researching about his past, and most of his sleeping moments reliving his life under Hydra in his nightmares.

(Y/N) has been living the simple life in Bucharest for a good year when she first noticed her new neighbor.

The first time she realized someone moved into the empty apartment next to hers was when she saw the door hastily being slammed shut as she took her trash out for the day. The second time she noticed her new neighbor was when she was watering her potted plants and noticed a single unassuming brown stool, two empty beer bottles on the usually empty balcony. Her third encounter with her neighbor was the time she’s finally seen what he looked like.

It was past three in the wee hours of a rainy morning when she first heard the distressed shouting and the sounds of things being knocked over in the newly occupied apartment. Wrapping a robe around herself, she made her way out of her home and started knocking loudly on her neighbor’s door. Biting her lips, the forehead furrowed with worry as the sounds from inside the apartment failed to stop.

Her heart grew heavy with worry as the sounds got louder. Finally, she decided to climb past her balcony and attempt to get to her neighbors’.

Finding Bucky thrashing wildly on his bed, (Y/N) hurried over and tried to wake him from his nightmare. As a reflex action, Bucky’s eyes snapped open and simultaneously wrapped his fingers around her delicate neck.

Bucky didn’t hurt (Y/N) that night. In fact, that night introduced (Y/N) to Bucky’s deepest and darkest moments. In six months, Bucky and (Y/N) has formed a bond with each other like no other. They bonded over their past, they bonded over their loneliness in a foreign land, they bonded over their love for plums and most of all, they bonded over their reliance on each other.

For a year, their relationship escalated from neighbors who knew nothing about each other to fast friends, to best friends and eventually to lovers.

Bucky was finally at peace with where he was in life. For once in his life in 90 years, he found a place he belonged and he found someone to share that belonging with.

“(Y/N)! I’m home doll.” Bucky called out, kicking his shoes off at the doorway. Hearing Bucky, (Y/N) hurried to him, an apron wrapped around her waist, her hair in a loose braid, specks of flour on her cheeks.

“Bucks! Dinner’s almost ready! Go hop into the shower!” she said, a sweet smile on her lips.

“James Buchanan Barnes! What did I say about shoes in the doorway!” (Y/N) questioned, hands now crossed across her chest, face in a slight frown.

Bucky gave a sheepish laugh as he picked his shoes up and placed them neatly on the shelf. “Sorry doll! I forgot…” he replied as he scratched the back of his neck, looking slightly embarrassed.

A sound of sweet laughter came from (Y/N) as she tiptoed and gave the man a peck on his cheeks, pushing him towards the bathroom.

“Joining me, doll?” Bucky asked with a cheeky smile.

With a light tap on (Y/N)’s behind, Bucky’s smirk grew bigger as he swiftly turned into the bathroom and closed the door, leaving a red-faced (Y/N) outside as he chuckled behind the door.

Another six months came and went and their relationship only strengthened as they spent more and more time together. Eventually, their relationship moved from only emotional bonding to an established one with physical bonds as well.

Bucky and (Y/N) were a compatible couple. From their looks, their character, their thoughts and beliefs to even their physical compatibility were impeccable. If people believed in soulmates, they would no doubt have been each other’s.

However, life would not stay peaceful for long, at least not the life of Bucky Barnes. A little over two years after they’ve met, Bucky noticed people following them. He’d be buying plums and he’d noticed people looking at him perched on a nearby building. He’d be walking (Y/N) to her job at the library as he spots someone discreetly glancing at (Y/N) at a table by the corner.

This heightened Bucky’s paranoia and he was on edge awake and asleep. The nightmares that have been gone came back. Bucky’s mood took a turn for the worse and eventually managed to strain their love for each other.

Days were filled with loud fights that resulted in Bucky slamming the door and leaving. Nights were filled with the two sleeping on separate beds, both with their sleep plagued with nightmares once again.

In just a short month, their relationship fell to shambles. The breakup was ugly. It was anger-filled, tears falling uncontrollably, shouting and screaming at each other. And with a final slam of the door, (Y/N) left Bucky’s life for good.

Bucky supposed there’s just no end to bad luck. Just after (Y/N) left, everyone that he was avoiding by coming to Bucharest has found him. In a haze, Bucky was whisked away by Steve, got involved in a civil war, got hunted and almost killed by not only Hydra but a wide array of superheroes.

Thinking back to those days, Bucky shook his head with a small smile and sigh. Who would’ve though Bucky Barnes would finally be back in New York? Living as part of the Avengers in the tower? The life in Bucharest almost seemed like a distant dream. Sometimes when he was alone and his thoughts seemed loud, he’d remember that life with (Y/N); that sweet, quiet and slow paced domestic life. He’d feel his heartstrings tug a little, the corner of his blue eyes prick a little, a sheen of tears glistening.

Yet, here he was, his hands wrapped around a smaller one. Sometimes he’d subconsciously compare this hand with (Y/N)’s; it didn’t feel as warm or as soft - it didn’t feel like home.

Bucky shook his head to clear his thoughts; he’s got to focus on what he has now, he’s a different man now, he’s no longer Hydra’s Bucky, no longer (Y/N)’s Bucky.

“James, should we go to the diner to grab lunch?” a voice came from next to him.

“Anything you fancy darling.” came his smooth reply as he turned and threw her a charming smile.

Walking down the sidewalk, they were casually chatting when a bicycle whizzed past the couple.

“Darcy!” Bucky yelled out as he grabbed her by the shoulder and into his chest as he steered her away.

In the opposite street, (Y/N) stood, taking in the scene in front of her. Her tears rolled down her face uncontrollably, muffled sobs escaped her lips as a hand covered her mouth; her other hand atop her swollen belly, rubbing the bump.

Flashes of their past came at her as her heart broke into a million piece. She could swear she felt as though her heart was breaking physically; the pain too much to bear. There was a time in her life that she believed she would be the only wrapped in Bucky’s warm embrace, that she would be the one Bucky protected with his life, she would be the one that started a family with Bucky - a family they both yearned for.

“Darcy…” (Y/N) let out a defeated whisper as she looked at the woman in Bucky’s arms. She was beautiful. Soft brown eyes that matched her hair, her smile so blindingly warm. She tried to will herself to look away, to try and run away from the hurt she was feeling but she simply couldn’t.

As she sees Bucky place a chaste kiss on Darcy’s forehead, (Y/N) closes her eyes and whispered a final goodbye.

“I’d only wish you the best Bucky. I love you. Goodbye.” her voice came out soft and resigned, filled to the brim with her love for the man.

A strong hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder steered her away from the scene in front of her. The hand pulled her into his embrace and the other placed on the back of her head, letting her find solace in his broad chest even as her swollen belly puts distance between them.

“I want to leave, T. There’s nothing left for me here. There’s nothing for me in Bucharest either. I left the place I called home to find Bucky in Wakanda, only to be led to New York. I came to New York only to find that he’s found his new home. I have nowhere else to go. What should I do?” (Y/N) sobbed as she thought about the bleak future she and her child would face.

“(Y/N), Wakanda will always be your home. So come home with me sweetheart.” came T’challa’s reply, his arms protectively around her.

Chapter Seven: You Win or You Die

Originally posted by admireforever


*there will be smut in this chapter

After a week filled with dress fittings and last minute wedding plans, the day had come. I hadn’t been allowed to see Robb all day, something about it being bad luck. But I had been preoccupied by my handmaidens, who were busy getting me ready for the small evening ceremony in the Godswood.

My long dark hair had been braided and wrapped around my head to create something like a halo. A small tiara that my father had gave me for my 13th nameday was nestled in the braided halo as well. He had told me that he’d had it made for his betrothed, Lyanna Stark, before she had been kidnapped. I figured it was fitting to wear it.

My dress was the most soft and beautiful thing I had ever worn. It was exactly meant for colder weather, so I would be a little chilly out in the woods, but I could deal with it for a little while. 

The flowers on it were just as I imagined, starting right under my breasts and wrapping around the back of the dress. I couldn’t be happier about how it turned out and I had thanked the seamstress profoundly.

The giggling of my handmaidens was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in!” I called out, turning around once more to look at myself in the mirror to make sure everything was perfect.

“Are you ready? Robb is making his way down to the Godswood, m’lady,” Maester Luwin asked as he stepped into the room, followed by Hodor carrying Bran and little Rickon trailing behind slightly, both looking adorable in their fancy coats and furs.

“I think so,” I answered nervously before addressing the two boys. “Don’t you two look dashing!”

“You look beautiful, Leina,” Rickon said softly, coming forward to give me a hug while Bran nodded in agreement.

“Well thank you,” I blushed. “Shall we get going then?”

We all made our way down to the Godswood, Maester Luwin walking ahead to tell Robb that we were on our way. Bran, Hodor, and Rickon then ran ahead to stand as witnesses to the wedding, along with my handmaidens and Theon. 

As I turned the corner to what we had determined to be the aisle I would walk down, I caught Robb’s eye. As soon as we made eye contact, I felt a few tears well up in my eyes as a huge grin appeared on Robb’s face. 

As I walked up to him, he grabbed my hands and held them between us.

Throughout the entire ceremony, I barely listened to a word that was said, only responding when prompted. I was too lost in Robb’s blue eyes. Before I knew it, the ceremony was over and Robb was kissing me softly as everyone around us clapped happily.

It was then when I realized how cold I actually was in the dress that I was wearing. I shivered slightly as we broke away and Robb rubbed his hands up and down my arms in an attempt to warm me up.

“I told you to wear your cloak,” he chided me as he took off one of his furs and wrapped it around my shoulders.

“And I told you that if I did wear my cloak, all the flowers on my dress would be covered!” I laughed at his incredulous expression.

He just laughed and kissed me again before leading me back inside the castle for the feast that had been prepared.

Later on, after a few hours of eating and dancing, it was time for the part of one’s wedding day that I was terrified of: the bedding ceremony.

I had heard some stories, and I knew that I would inevitably have to do this, but it seemed shocking to me that it would happen tonight. And to say I was nervous would be an understatement. I wondered if Robb was as nervous as I am.

Maester Luwin had told us that we needed someone in the room with us when we…. did it, I suppose. This was to ensure that we had actually… done it. It was tradition, he had said. I had become flustered after he had said that and Robb had gripped my hand a bit tighter in comfort. He had then suggested that maybe, if someone had to be there, one of my handmaidens could be the one to do it. That way I could be more comfortable.

So as Robb and I made our way to his chambers, Jane, one of my handmaidens, followed behind us and sat quietly in the corner of the room.

The fire was ablaze in his fireplace, well I guess it was now our fireplace. I was to move into his room tomorrow now that we were married. So it was a little bit warmer than the main hall where we’d had the feast, but still a little bit chilly over where the bed was.

As if he could sense my nervousness, Robb kissed me softly.

“Don’t be nervous, love,” he whispered. 

“It’s just… I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“And you think I do?” he chuckled softly. “I haven’t done anything like this either.”

I blushed then and he took off his remaining furs and I followed suit, taking off the cloak that he had given me earlier on. 

I boldly reached over and started to untie his shirt and he then lifted it over his head. I sucked in my breath at the sight. 

“May I?” he asked me, reaching for the delicate sleeves holding my dress up. 

I nodded and he slipped them down my arms. I covered my breasts as he laid the dress down on a chair. He kissed me again, a little more fiercely now. He pulled my arms away from my chest and I hesitantly wrapped them around his neck, pressing my bare chest against his.

His hands wandered down to just underneath my bum and he lifted me up. I made a sound of surprise and wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me over to the bed. 

He laid me gently on the bed, pulling back so he could take his trousers off. I got a glance at his manhood and I sucked in a breath as I had never seen one before. 

He climbed onto the bed after me and pulled the sheer curtains around the bed so that there was at least some layer of privacy.

He kissed me again, squeezing one of my breasts in his hand. I moaned softly as he rubbed my nipple between his fingers. He shifted slightly and wrapped his lips around my other breast and my hands gripped the hair at the back of his neck slightly.

I squeezed my legs together slightly, feeling something that I hadn’t ever felt before down there. I could also feel his length hardening on my thigh and I lifted my hips slightly, earning a grunt from Robb. 

He kissed up my neck until he reached my lips, tugging at my bottom lip slightly, as his hand wandered down. His hand cupped my womanhood and I let out my loudest moan yet. 

“Robb,” I breathed out as my fingernails dragged down his back. “Oh gods, I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispered. “Are you ready?”

“I… I think so… it’s going to hurt, isn’t it?”

“I’ll go slow, my love,” he reassured me.

I nodded and he pecked me on the lips once more before starting to press into me. It didn’t hurt at first, it was only slightly uncomfortable, but it did get worse as he pressed in.

I gasped slightly and Robb stopped abruptly. 

“No, don’t stop,” I assured him. “I’ll be fine.”

He kissed me as he pushed in the rest of the way, holding it there for a minute until I gave him the go ahead. He pulled out slightly, pushing back in again, and then continuing. It hurt a bit at first, but I got used to the feeling of it eventually. 

I encouraged him to go faster and he happily did so. Moans were flying freely now and hands were all over. I could feel something in my tummy building up as Robb thrusted. 

“Oh gods,” I moaned. “Robb… I-”

“Shhh,” he comforted me. “It’s alright. Let it out.”

I moaned louder as I rolled my hips into his. The ball in my tummy kept building until it was almost too much. And when that ball burst, it was the most euphoric feeling I had ever felt. 

I stiffened slightly and tightly gripped Robb’s curls. He grunted as his thrusts became sloppier as he came as well. I could feel him inside me and that made my orgasm last longer. 

He pulled me in for another kiss and didn’t stop kissing me until we had both calmed slightly.

I heard the door to the room open and close softly, signaling that Jane, my handmaiden, had left the room to give us privacy.

“I love you,” he confidently told me, pecking me on the lips one last time before slowly pulling out of me. 

He grabbed a towel from the table near the bed and cleaned us both up before pulling back the furs on the bed, letting us both get under the covers. 

I cuddled closer to his warm chest, resting my head on it as he laid on his back and wrapped his arms around me tightly.

The tiredness that I was feeling finally caught up to me right after Robb kissed me lovingly on the forehead.

I woke up the next morning to the sunlight shining softly through the windows. My legs were tangled up in Robb’s and my chest was pressed up against his.

I shifted slightly, realizing we were both still naked. I glanced up at him to see that he was awake as well.

“Good morning,” he murmured.

“Morning,” I whispered.

“How are you feeling?”

“A little bit sore,” I answered. “But I’m so happy that I’m your wife now.”

“And I am happy to be your husband,” he replied and then kissed me. I kissed him back, wrapping my leg higher up on his waist.

He gripped my thigh with one hand while the other stroked my cheek. 

“Unless you want to have a repeat of last night,” he pulled away. “I think we should stop.”

“What made you think I want to stop?” I smiled.

He grinned and pulled me in for another kiss before rolling on top of me.

A few weeks later, while getting ready to go to sleep, there was a knock on the door to Robb’s chamber.

“Come in,” Robb called. I continued to brush my hair, taking it out of the braids I had it in all day.

“My Lord,” the boy started. “I’m sorry it’s so late, but an urgent message just arrived from Kings Landing.”

The boy handed Robb the envelope before closing the door behind him as he left. Robb sat at his desk and opened the letter, quickly scanning it.

“Who’s it from?” I asked.

“My father.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Umm… everyone’s is fine,” he replied.

“Why does it sound like you’re lying?”

He was quiet after that. I turned around, setting my brush down. He was leaning over the letter, glancing at another piece of paper that looked like it had been ripped out of a book. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly shocked by what he was reading.

“Robb,” I said as I stood and walked over to him. “What is it?”

His only response was to hand me the letter that his father sent him.


I write this letter to inform you of some disturbing news. Tensions are high here in Kings Landing and I’m afraid that the news from your mother has contributed to that tension. I do believe that Cersei Lannister is responsible for Bran falling from that tower and I have discovered something else. Earlier today, I was directed to a book that Jon Arryn, the previous hand, had read just before he died. There was a certain page in that book that shows the lineage of the Baratheon family. I have ripped out said page and sent it with this letter. And as you can see, all children of the Baratheon line have had black hair. Never blonde. Even when the wife or husband of the Baratheon had blonde hair. The only children in the line that don’t have black hair are Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen. That being said, I believe Leina to be the only legitimate child of Cersei and Robert. She is the legitimate heir to the throne, not Joffrey. I also believe that Jon Arryn discovered this information and that is the reason that he died. I send this letter with great caution, but it was something that you both needed to know.

Your father,

Lord Eddard Stark

“Leina?” Robb asked, concerned after there was a moment of silence. “Are you alright?”

“I’m…. fine,” I replied.

The wheels in my head kept spinning. Was this true? I guess it would make sense…. My mother always treated me differently than my siblings. I just thought it was because I looked so much like my father. I knew she hated him. But if my father wasn’t my sibling’s father, then who was?

“Do you believe it?” he asked, grabbing my hand and pulling me closer to him.

“Yes,” I answered. “It would explain why she’s always hated me.”

“She’s your mother,” he tried. “She doesn’t hate you.”

“Yes she does, Robb!” I exclaimed. “She’s always treated me differently than my siblings and she has mentally and sometimes physically abused me throughout my childhood. The only thing that I want to know now is who her lover is.”

“Shhh, my love. It’s alright.”

“My whole life is a lie! And what if my mother finds out that I know!? She’ll kill me! She doesn’t want me to be Queen! Oh gods I-”

Robb cut me off with a soft kiss on the lips.

“Do not think like that, Leina! I won’t let anyone hurt you. I will protect you. I would die for you.”

“I love you too.” I said and kissed him fiercely. “No matter what.”

Leina’s wedding dress:

Leina’s wedding hair (obviously black hair):

Crown that she wore:

What she is wearing when the letter comes:





grantaire and jehan sort of date for a while (none of les amis ever get all the details about their relationship) and end up being the most aesthetic couple ever??

  • jehan takes candid photos of grantaire, with a few days worth of stubble and a paint stained shirt, drinking coffee in front of jehan’s window, the sill covered with pott-plants 
  • they both know all the weird places in the city that hardly anyone goes to, all the tiny bookstores and coffee places, the tiny narrow streets that haven’t changed in generations, the spot where an almost famous poet wrote their masterpiece, the bars where struggling musicians will play to a dozen patrons 
  • they lie together in bed for half the day, jehan with a book in their hand whilst Grantaire carefully draws intricate patterns over their arms and back and chest
  • jehan is forever writing poems that they post on their blog (which has a small but dedicated following) about this messy, disjointed, almost relationship, about rough hands and r’s loud laughter and the empty wine bottles and lying side by side looking up at the stars
  • grantaire doesn’t have an amazing voice, but he’s pretty good at playing the guitar and when it gets to a certain time of night he’ll start playing for les amis, and the songs can range from ridiculous acoustic covers of a popular song which has everyone crying with laughter, or a beautiful song that nobody’s ever heard of (except jehan because it was on the mixtape- yes mixtape- that they gave him) 
  • jehan has more than once showed up to abc meetings with a faded smudge of paint on their cheek 
  • whenever they have a night out, all of les amis’ instagrams and snapchat stories are filled with these ridiculous beautiful (because somehow together these two never fail to take a good photo?? it doesn’t make any sense??? they’re both some of the least photogenic people ever when they’re on their own???) photos of the two of them, jehan’s red braided hair and bright outfits and lomb limbs wrapped around the shorter grantaire, with his broad shoulders, dark curls, his old flannel shirt
  • basically everything about them looks like it’s come straight from some pretentious artsy aesthetic moodboard 
The Sorcerer and Her Son

Paring: Kylo Ren/Reader

Tags: female reader, female pronouns, AU - magic, AU - medieval, AU - gods and goddesses, tailoring, sewing, religious imagery and symbolism, male-female friendship, friends to lovers, nicknames, POV reader, POV Kylo Ren, fluff, angst.

Summary: In the small village on the edge of the forest, the tailor’s daughter cannot stand by and watch her mother’s ailing health lead her her death. Taking it upon herself to ask of the help of the resident witch, and her son, she must follow the contract to heal her mother. But, all magic, comes at a price, and sometimes, that price is knowing a little too much about things that are unsaid…

Word Count: 5,431

Posting Date:  2017-05-06

Current Date: 2017-06-12

Originally posted by somethingalongtheselines

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Threats [Yandere! Chat Noir] [Reader-Insert]

Gently, he twisted one lock of hair over another. The texture felt smooth against his metal claws and the radiant, healthy glow of the hair made it appear to be as soft as silk. He imagined how soft it would feel against the naked skin of his fingers – unbelievably soft, probably.

If it was not for forsaking his identity, Chat Noir would had released his transformation then and there to feel the softness of the hair in reality, rather than assuming how it felt in his fantasies. Nonetheless, it was a tranquil moment and Chat relished in it.

His indulgence in the tranquility was obvious as he was mindlessly humming. He braided her hair, his humming sounding surprisingly pleasant for a tyrant.

[Name] hugged her knees closer to her chest as her lips quivered and her stomach twisted itself in knots of anxiousness.

She felt fear at her fingertips.

“How was your day?” Chat asked, after a seemingly eternal silence, leaning his head on her shoulder. Presently, they were both sitting on the floor. [Name] sat in between Chat’s legs and hugged her knees close to her chest with her arms wrapped around them. Chat sat behind her, braiding her hair and occasionally, pressed a kiss or two on the base of her bare neck.

Chat Noir pressed his lips against the skin of her neck intimately. Unlike the previous kisses, this was not a quick chaste one. Instead, he began to suck lightly on a certain spot.

[Name] felt shivers run down her spine. Surprisingly, she successfully managed to prevent the threatening whimpers from leaving her lips.  

“I-It was o-okay. How was y-yours?” She stammered, and her fingers trembled. Her throat felt sore and tight due to the sobs and the unintentional moans of pleasure she forced herself to hold back. She did not want to think about what the situation would escalate to if she failed to repress her vocal responses caused by Chat’s actions.

“It was alright,” Chat began murmuring, as he halted in his sucking. Then, he moved his hands from [Name]’s hair and settled it on her waist.

“It’s better now that you are here,” He said with an impish grin.

His response caused [Name]’s heart to skip a beat as her cheeks became enveloped in a light hue of pink.

That was the Chat Noir she had fallen for.

However, as soon as any signs of her past feelings seemed to have risen for Chat, they disappeared.

They disappeared as soon as he put his hands under her shirt and on her soft, smooth skin.

His claws felt like cold knives being pressed against her skin threateningly.

“Your brother didn’t bother you today, did he?” Chat asked calmly. Too calmly.

[Name] was aware that there was a dangerous tone and consequences hidden in his question. She simply needed to say the right words to trigger him.

She shut her eyes tightly in fear as she was reminded of all the reasons about why she should have NEVER fallen for him.

“H-He didn’t,” She answered, her voice jumping in levels.

She felt another shiver run down her spine as Chat pressed a long and passionate kiss on her neck once more. As he began to suck to leave another mark, he unknowingly narrowed his eyes at her.

“Your voice becomes more high-pitched when you lie,” He said stoically in the crook of her neck. [Name]’s eyes widened in fear.

“But I will believe you. You have no reason to lie to me. After all, as lovers, honesty is the only answer,” Chat began, and he began to caress [Name]’s skin under her shirt. And this time, she failed to hold back a whimper.

Whether she whimpered because of the way her body felt due to his touch, or in fear of knowing what he was going to say; she did not know.

“All you need to do is just say the word, and I will deal with him permanently,” Chat hissed, his sucking becoming more vigorous.

“Anyone who hurts you, I will kill them.”

anonymous asked:

paladins + allura and coran if u want reactin to their s/o randomly sitting in their lap like 'sup what are u guys talkin about'


  • He doesn’t pay that much attention to it, honestly, as long as you’re shorter than him and he can see over your head.
  • He really likes being this close to you, but can’t really enjoy it because he has to pay attention to the conversation and be professional.


  • He’d grab you by the waist and pull you closer to him.
  • He’ll rub your inner thighs and lift up your shirt a little to grip your hips.
  • Be careful, despite how confident he seems, he’s actually very scared and aroused.


  • If you’re shorter than him, he’ll rest his chin on your head.
  • If you’re taller than him, his head will go on your shoulder.
  • Watch out for the boner tho because even though he acts really chill, he’s super excited about it.


  • He doesn’t really know what to do. He does enjoy having you on him, though.
  • He’d have to resist the overwhelming urge to slide your shirt down a bit to kiss the back of your neck and your shoulders.
  • Since there are other people around, he settles for just holding your hand and keeping the other on your hip to keep you balanced.


  • They’ll push you off
  • They will, however, sit on your lap. They don’t care if it makes them a hypocrite. They will do it.
  • They’ll say you’re crushing them (since, most likely, you’re taller than them)


  • He’d have his arms wrapped around you immediately.
  • If you have long hair, he’ll start braiding it and tune out of the conversation a bit.


  • She wouldn’t really mind and would continue leading the conversation and giving instructions
  • She’d have one hand on your shoulder, pulling you close to her.
  • Once the rest of the team left, you guys could get a little frisky.
Dutch Space Buns

Space buns are “a thing” and I couldn’t be happier.  It’s no secret that I love buns, but there’s something about space buns that are so much more comfortable and fun.  This space bun tutorial incorporates dutch braids in the back for extra detail.  Give it a try!


1) Brush

2) Two Large Hair Ties

3) Two Small Hair Ties

4) Bobby Pins


1) Begin by brushing your hair out.

2) Create a part down the middle of your head.  Tie one side of hair out of the way.

3) Flip your head upside down and take three pieces of hair at the nape of your neck.

4) Begin a dutch braid by crossing the left piece under the middle piece.

5) Next cross the right piece under the new middle piece.

6) Add in more hair to the left piece and cross under the middle.

7) Add in more hair to the right piece before crossing under the middle.  (Watch a detailed Dutch Braid tutorial here!)

8) Continue this process.

9) Once you get to where you want to place your bun, stop adding in any more hair.  Take all the hair from this side and tie into a high pigtail.

10) Braid the whole pigtail and tie off with a small hair elastic.

11) Begin wrapping the braid around the top of your pigtail.

12) Bobby pin into place.

13) Repeat steps 3-12 on the other side of your head.  Finish with hairspray.

The North Remembers [Jon Snow x Reader]

Originally posted by thronesdaily

You guys seemed to be intrigued on what I’ve been secretly working on….AND IT’S HERE! In the spirit of Game of Thrones I’ve decided to take up a long and exciting project. This series will follow the events happening thru ALL SEASONS Hopefully, we can make it through! 



 What do you guys think? Are you ready?

You gaze at your reflection in the mirror, carefully tracing the outlines of your still somewhat sleepy features as your quick fingers wrap a string of leather around your now finished (color) braid, without a hair out of place. (Color) eyes sparkle in the dim lighting of your room as satisfied you pull away and re-think every single little detail that had already happened and will happen on this very day.

Today you are officially assigned to be Sansa Stark’s handmaiden and are to follow her journey all the way to Kings Landing.

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Why Not [Zach x Reader]

Request: imagines-avengers  Hello and good luck on you’re blog!:) Could u do a imagine where Zach Mitchell , you’re boyfriend , does you’re hair?:)

Warnings: None

Words: 689

When you think back to a year ago today, you notice how much things have changed. When people say, ‘A lot can happen in a year’ you never thought that it was true. How much could really happen in a year anyway? It’s only 365 days… 

If only you knew that a year ago from today you would be where you were right now, on the couch cuddled up to your boyfriend. Zach. The first day you saw him you swear your heart might of skipped a beat or two. It was how people in the books describe meeting their love! You had never believed that a actual human being could make somebody’s heart stop beating and literately forget about everything for a moment. 

Until you saw Zach of course. 

Now since you had forgotten about a everything around you, you had walked straight into a pole which of course gained his attention. Romantic right?

What was romantic was what you were doing right now, nearly a year ago from that day. You were watching a movie with Zach and of course you were cuddled up to his chest with one of his arms wrapped around your stomach and the other resting on the top of the couch. A blanket covered your legs as you tried to stay awake for the rest of the movie, the past week had been so busy that you barley had time to think. A 16 year old should not have to be as busy as you were, which is why hanging out with your boyfriend lifted your mood. 

Feeling Zach’s hand play lightly with your hair was only making you sleepier and sleepier. He did this often, played with your hair. He claims that he does it cause he knows you like it but you know he loves it just as much as you do. 

“Can I do your hair?” He asked, the sound of his voice and the rumble of his chest startled you. You sleepily shifted your body a bit and lifted your chin to rest on his chest so you could look up at him. 

“Mm, you wanna do my hair?” Your voice cracked from not having talked in a while. He looked down at you when he felt you shift, nodding lightly. 

Cracking a smile, you lifted your head up so you could kiss him lightly under his chin. “Why not?” 

“Zach… Zach! Ow! Stop pulling so hard… Dammit!” He was trying to braid your hair but all he was doing was knotting it up in a big ball. Occasionally pulling your hair by accident, causing you to grimace and scowl. 

“Sorry! Stop moving away from me… wait! Hold on…there! All done.” You felt his hands leave your hair and you took your chance to stand up. 

“What does it look like? Can you take a picture?” You asked, pulling out your phone to give to him but he already had his out and ready. He nodded and motioned for you to turn around so he could take a picture of the back. 

Once you heard the snap confirming the picture had been taken, you practically leaped onto the couch leaning over him to see the picture. You didn’t care about personal space, you were eager. It’s not like he minded having you practically in his lap. 

You couldn’t hid the look of surprise you knew crossed over your facial features. Your hands flew to the back of your head, you didn’t feel a big knot of hair. Instead, you felt what was to be a nicely done braid. 

Looking over to Zach, you weren’t surprised that he was smirking at you. “I told you I knew what I was doing.” 

“How do you know how to braid… Wait, don’t answer. I don’t want to know! I’ll let it be a forever mystery.” Giggling you leaned back onto his chest, planting a sweet kiss on his lips. His arms automatically wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

“I should braid your hair more often.” 

First Mission

The paladin reached his plated glove to the ground and behind his helm twisted his lips. It had been another brutal scene to behold. Reports of attacks from the Amani had escalated, the trolls were becoming restless and these warbands were becoming emboldened. It had been nearly a year since the first messages, a rumor here, a missing box, a robbery, then an assault, a fire, murder, and now this small villa was the latest scene.

“Captain Sunshatter, your orders?” The boots of the Phoenix guard interrupted the thought of the young man. Captain… Itrius instinctively looked for his brother, scanning to find Irigir.

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Waffle Bun

I might have been a little hungry when naming this hairstyle… Other than the fact that I may have had a slight craving for waffles, the reason behind naming this style the Waffle Bun is the intricate criss-cross pattern on the flat, round bun.  Despite looking complicated, this hairstyle only requires a few simple steps to get it looking just right!


1) Brush

2) Large Hair Tie

3) 3 Small Hair Ties

4) Bobby Pins


1) Begin by brushing out your hair.

2) Tie your hair into a half up ponytail at the back of the head.

3) Split your hair into three even sections.

4) Braid each of the sections with a loose three-strand braid.

5) Create one large braid using the three smaller braids.  Do not tie off the end of this braid.

6) Once at the bottom of the braid, securely hold one of the three sections in one hand and the other two sections in the other.

7) While holding the single section in place, slide (scruch) the other two pieces upwards.

8) Pull the scruch apart slightly to give your braid more area.

9) Loosely wrap this braid around the initial hair elastic.

10) Shape and hold in place with bobby pins and hairspray.

Bulletproof Pt. 4 [Jimin]

Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Genre: Hitman!AU, Fluff, Humor
Word Count: 1872
Chapter: 4/?
Description: “Well,” you say, glancing at the dagger raised in your boyfriend’s hand, to the gun in yours, and finally to the man cowering on his knees between the both of you, sobbing and pleading for his life. “This is awkward.”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5 | Part 6

You twisted your hair upwards in a tight coil, and knotted sleek, painstakingly curled hairs into an elaborate twist, stabbing bobby pins into the mass of hair to keep it into place. You rolled your neck, clicking your tongue as you eased the cricks in your neck, before carefully fixing the strap of your dress.

You hummed as you twisted around, craning your neck to look in the floor length mirror. The evening dress was a deep blue, made of a floaty, ghost-like material that hugged your upper body before floating out by your hips, dusting the floor. A silver was dusted on top, creating the image that you had pulled the stars down from their place in the sky and wrapped them around you.

You smiled at yourself in the mirror, red lips pursed carefully, one corner of your lips pulled up just a little more than the other in a coy smirk. You practiced a gracious laugh, throwing in a little wink before smoothing the dress around your hips.

“Hae-won! Iseul! You guys ready?” You called, tugging the door open.

Iseul jumped out from the room opposite, smiling brightly. She had braided and wrapped a portion of her hair around her head, and a black dress hung from her neck. “Ready!” She trilled, spinning on the tip of her heels.

You pursed your lips, pointing at the six inches on her feet. “You’re sure you can run in those?”

Iseul nodded vigorously, holding a hand up. “I swear. Even practiced.”

You scanned Hae-won, at the dress that hugged her body. She caught your look, shaking her head. “Don’t worry,” she said, tugging the hem of the dress up from her ankles to reveal black leggings. “I’ll tear it off or hitch it up.”

You nodded, spinning carefully in your dress and watching it flare. You bit your bottom lip as you watched the hem flip upwards slightly, revealing the boots you were under them. They were comfortable and practical, and as long as you didn’t move too quickly, the long skirt of your dress would make sure nobody would see you were wearing them.

Your right hand pressed against your thigh, and you traced the edges of the 6mm pistol strapped onto your leg, the cold metal reassuring and calming. You were aware of each and every weapon on your body, from the slim knife concealed as a hairpin sheathed carefully and slotted into your hair, to your favorite twin handguns wrapped around each thigh: 9mm, sleek and gorgeous Smith and Wessons.

Iseul slung a large black bag over a shoulder, ambling happily across the office towards the exit, and you winced at the loud clattering of metal in her bag.

“It’ll be the usual,” you said quietly as you and the two other girls slipped into a fine black car. There was a closed partition between you and the driver, which was expected. “Hae-won, you find the security room, take out whoever’s in there. Remember — ”

“Don’t kill ‘em unless they already saw my face,” Hae-won said briskly, nodding her understanding, and you smiled gratefully.

“Iseul, mingle for a while so it doesn’t seem too weird when you walk out into the gardens. You know which rooftop you need to be on, right?”

Iseul nodded vigorously. “And don’t shoot unless you don’t kill him, or he manages to escape.”

“Or if any of his henchman or other suspected targets approach. We don’t want to be taking out too many people tonight. He’s our main focus. But if his henchmen close in, I’m counting on you. I’ll be with him, talking until I can get him into the library like we planned. Everything sound fine?” Your voice was calm and collected, as it always was before an assignment, though you supposed you should’ve been gnawing at your lip, or butterflies should have been erupting in your stomach. The truth was, the nervous anticipation, fearful tension had long since disappeared along with the novelty of your job.



You clucked, tongue snapping against the roof of your mouth. “Good.”

The laughter filling the air was warm, and harmonized with the string quartet playing in the corner, violin and cello bows waxed to smooth perfection. The night air from the open French windows was heavy with summer and stale with an unending promise of a summer night.

The glass flute of champagne you held in your hand was cold, and you raised it to your lips as you giggled lightly, tipping the flute upwards but pursing your lips so that the alcohol didn’t slip past your lips.

“You must be joking!” You exclaimed after you’d laughed, brushing your hand down his shoulder to his elbow briefly, before staring at him innocently when he looked over.

Geum Min-jun was in his late forties, with hair slicked back with what seemed like vats of oil with the way it shone so brightly. His ears were small and sharp and his face was round, with beady black eyes that seemed to linger just a little too long on rear of every woman that passed by him.

Geum Min-jun was also intoxicated and starting to train his beady eyes on you more than any other woman in the room. You met his gaze and smiled softly, batting your eyelids and then gazing at him with half-lidded eyes, smile just a little too intimate. Just as you’d practiced.

He winked at you and licked his lips, and you hid a shudder, silently thanking the heavens that Jimin didn’t look anything like him, before reminding yourself that Jimin should be far away from your thoughts that night.

You trace a small circle on the small of his back subtly, and he turns to excuse himself from the conversation he is engaged in, turning to face you and leaning in close by your face. His breath smelled of alcohol and smoked salmon and olives and was hot and heavy.

“Want to get away from here?”

You giggled quietly, keeping the breathiness in your tone. “You mean like a tour of this place?”

“Sure, if that’s what you want, babe.”

You ignored the shivers that crept down your spine at the name. “I heard they have a really great library.” You dropped your voice to a low purr. “Quiet, empty, and lots of space to move around in.” You leaned in just a little bit more so that your chest grazed his arm.

You had long since rid the word pride from your dictionary when you worked undercover. Men like Geum Min-jun  often preferred the air-headed type of women who hung on to their every word and you had learned to use your charms to the best of your ability.

“I actually do know the library here… and you’re correct about all three aspects.” He stuck an arm out, crooked at the elbow, and you slid your arm through, pursing your lips to smile softly up at him. “Shall we?”

You nodded and let him guide you across the floor, smiling shyly at the guests he greeted briefly. Your free hand drifted down to your left thigh, grazing your gun and your heart beat steadily. It was all going according to plan. Better, even. You had expected to take longer persuading him to walk away with you, and his easy acceptance of your company had pushed your schedule forwards.

You coughed, clearing your throat, and moved a hand breezily through your hair to tap your earpiece back into place, the golden earring-like piece catching light, yet dulling against the diamonds that hung on the ears of the other women in the room you were leaving behind. “What kind of books are you most interested in?” You asked, and Geum Min-jun inhaled slowly.

There was a slight crackle in your ear.

“Ready and waiting for signal.”

“Same here.”

Your heart fluttered at the voices of your friends, their firm tones reminding you that everything was going smoothly.

“I have to admit, I don’t read all that much,” the man beside you said, with a slight tug that sent you stumbling just a little closer into his side. “When you’re running a big company like I am, it’s hard to keep up with personal activities. I don’t even remember the last time I slept properly.”

You smiled innocently at him, shaking your head in sympathy, though with the low voice he had delivered the last two words of his sentence with, you guessed he wasn’t really talking about slumber at all.

He pushed the doors to the library open with a flourish, after mumbling something in a low voice to the young guard outside that had him flush and walk away briskly.

You giggled as he dragged you into the center of the library, running away slowly and playfully squealing as he caught up behind you to wrap his thick arms around you. You were careful to hide your irritation at his touches, and his hands that slowly wandered south, playing the blind-eyed, naive little girl who was starstruck in the presence of the great Geum Min-jun.

You made your way over to the large window facing the rooftop of a nearby building, smiling and leaning onto the plush cushions that decorated the window sill. “This place is absolutely magnificent!”

Two laughs echoed softly. “Ready.”

“A-plus acting skills, truly.”

“I agree, Unnie.”

You gritted your teeth to prevent yourself from saying something snarky back to the two girls and exposing yourself, instead opting to pat the seat beside you on the sill and beckoned for Geum Min-jun to follow.

The look in his eyes was not unlike a lioness’ as she stalked her prey, dark and filled with want. He settled at your side, and began to run his hand up your leg slowly, leaning in closer until you could feel his breath on your face.

There was a sudden ‘clink’, and he pulled away. “What the fu — ”

“Oops!” You giggled, pulling away. “Just my lady essentials,” you clarified, and you watched his expression clear for a moment before you tugged the gun from your thigh and swept your leg forwards in a strong kick to his back sending him tumbling off the window sill unceremoniously and hitting the ground with a painful-sounding ‘thud’.

Geum Min-jun’s mouth dropped open as he saw the weapon in your hand, and he backed away slowly, mouth opening and closing but no sound coming out. He made no move to run, obviously in slight shock and panic. You smiled demurely, gathering your skirts carefully and hopping to the ground lightly before cocking the hammer of the gun back and turning to face him once more.

Only, now you weren’t alone. On the other side of Geum Min-jun was another man, and a familiar one at that. Clad in a fine suit and polished shoes, he hovered over Geum Min-jun with a shocked expression and arms held at his side as he looked at you.

“Well,” you say, glancing at the dagger raised in your boyfriend’s hand, to the gun in yours, and finally to the man cowering on his knees between the both of you, sobbing and pleading for his life. “This is awkward.”


Requested by: Anonymous

“For the love of everything that is good in this universe, if you ask me to go out with you in your stupid womanizing tone one more time James, I swear to god I will shove my foot so far up your ass you will be transported into a different dimension.” You swirl around, your hair hitting him in the face. Today was your day. The day that you finally graduated from the academy.  The day you would finally be assigned to your Starship.

“So if I ask you in a different tone, will you go out with me?!” he yells at you as you storm off in the opposite direction. You arrive just in time for the ceremony to start your friend waving you over to sit by her. It goes on for hours before you finally get called up to receive your mission.

“(y/n), your mission should you choose to accept it, is to explore the galaxy on the Starship Enterprise. Congratulations on your completion of the Starfleet Academy’s training course.” The crowd claps like clockworks and you bow and say a quick thank you before you’re ushered to the side.

You barely get sleep that night, you spend all night packing and unpacking your things, trying to make it as efficient as possible. Did you really need this or that? You’d be back for it all in five years anyways, still there were things that you just couldn’t justify leaving. By the time the sun rises you have packed your things up ten different ways, but you decide on this final one, even though you’re still not convinced you did it well enough. You take a shower and get ready, smoothing your hair back into a bun, save a chunk of hair for a braid to wrap around the bun. you shrug on your jacket and look around your room for the last time, a determined smile on your face.

You’re the first one of the newbies to arrive at the ship, the first officer, Mr. Spock greets you and takes you to your cabin and informs you of the schedule for the rest of the day. He tells you that the captain will be making rounds to introduce himself to all the new recruits when the rest of them get here.

Within the hour you’re settled into your cabin, making it feel as much like home as you can. You hang fairy lights around your bed and your desk and you put a lamp next to your bed and turn them on, trading them for the ugly overhead light. Immediately the room feels like home, the atmosphere feeling less like finality and more like the fun anticipation of an adventure.

You hear a knock at your door as you were putting your books into the shelf that was provided and you call out over your shoulder, “Come in!”

“Hello, officer (y/n), I’m Captain James Tiberius Kirk, I am your acting Captain for your five year…” Dread floods over you as you hear his voice. You face floods with heat and you step down from the chair you were standing on.  You turn around, trying to look as put together as possible, and smile at him.

“Hello Captain.” you force through your smile.

“So does this mean that I can have that date now?”

“Out!” you yell, chucking the book that you were holding at his head. “Really?! I am your subordinate! I am on your crew! What in the hell makes you think that it’s appropriate for you to ask me those things?!” You bring your fists down on him.

“Woah! Ow! okay! I’m sorry! Hey! Alright this is ridiculous!” Kirk’s hands wrap around your arms and he rolls you over, pinning you to the ground. His face is inches from yours, so close that you can see every different shade of blue in his eyes. They’re stunning. “You’re blushing!” he laughs, snapping you out of it, his devilish smile sending unwanted fire through your veins.

You bring your knee up into his chest and he collapses on top of you, his lips smashing in yours. You roll him off of you in frustration and stand up, brushing yourself off. “Get out.” you growl, trying your best to ignore the buzzing feeling that his lips left on your skin.

“I’m sorry. This won’t happen again. Your lips are soft. I don’t know why I just said that. Meetings at 7 sharp. Okay leaving!” Kirk throws his hands up in surrender as you raise your fist again.