#I couldn't sleep last night so here you go

[echantedtoon]

A Bug In The System

You purchase an old game console from your Uncle Litwack after it goes haywire as your new pet project. Everything seems to be working well, however unbeknownst to you there's a bug in the system.

(Got this idea partially from watching console restoration videos on YouTube.)

You weren't sure what about this game cabinet was bothering you. 

Maybe it was the randomly flashing screen you still couldn't explain? Or the changes in code that you found and was so sure you never programmed in. Or maybe it was the strange mutterings you thought you heard the game characters say even though you were sure they weren't programmed to say. You weren't sure. But whenever you played the game or tried going it, it seemed as if everything was running smoothly. 

So perhaps it was nothing but you hearing things. You had been pretty stressed out with college work and staying up most nights as you studied programming and computer science.  So it was probably the lack of sleep combined with weird hallucinations from said lack of sleep. However it was strange it only started after you had started working on this game console. 

It was a Saturday morning.

Your day had started off with a sunny morning and a good meal. You had no classes or anything else you had to get done with that day so you made up your mind to visit someone you hadn't seen or heard from in a while. Your Uncle Litwak. His arcade was only a few miles away from the college and where you were currently living, so why not visit your favorite uncle in your entire family?  You arrived at the arcade a bit later than you intended on with the traffic but luckily there was plenty of parking space for you to just pull up and park your hand me down truck.

The sunlight was warm as you happily walked across the concrete and right up to the doors leading into the arcade. It looked exactly the same the last time you visited a few months ago minus a new game console against the fair wall called 'Twilight's Bain' and looked to be a run and gun style game. Maybe you'd try it out while you were here.

Mustn't have been too busy today as there was only around five or six kids around the place playing games and a few adults you assumed were the parents standing around watching or playing on their phones. 

"Uncle Litwak?," you called out walking past the noises of dancing beats, chase scene music, and the groans of zombies dying inside the digital screens of the game consoles. F/c orbs blinking looking around for any signs of the familiar older man. "Uncle Litwak!"

Maybe he was in the back office? You made your way past the other consoles including one of  the newer ones that was called Heroes Duty. That's where most of the shooting noises were coming from as two boys were both blasting away at the screen shooting fake robot bugs. Passing a few other games and turning a corner, you finally saw the person you were looking for. 

Facing away from you with a phone to his ear was your uncle. He took looked no different than the day you last saw him. Wearing that famous black and white striped shirt, and the pack around his waist wear he was always sure to keep any spare quarters for quick refunds or to exchange for dollar bills handed to him in exchange for the kids to fuel the games. He was slightly leaned over, one hand on his hip as a sigh escaped his lips.

"So you can't make it today?," he asked and the faint sounds of someone's voice coming from the phone answered back although it was too muffled and low volume to tell what the person on the other side was saying. "Oh..I see. Well when are you getting it fixed?" Another pause before your Uncle Litwak hummed. "Alrighty then. Have your boys call me back as soon as you get a free date will ya? Good. Thanks, Harvey. Drop by with the grandkids sometime. It's always fun to see them running around here. Hehe. I'll talk to you later. Alright. Take care."

He must've been too into the call to hear your approaching footsteps or the distant sounds of the arcade muffled your approach so he had no idea you were standing right behind him as he hung up. That is until you cleared your throat causing him to turn to you. He blinked a few times catching him off guard before a wife smile graced his face.

"Hey, hey!," he immediately greeted opening up his arms and turning to fully face you. "Well if it isn't my favorite college gal!"

"Hey, Uncle Litwak!," you greeted going to return the open hug he gave you. It lasted a few minutes with him patting you on the back before you both pulled away. "How are you? I haven't seen you since Mom's birthday party."

He made a 'psh' sound waving a hand off. "Well you know how it is. Some days are a lot slower than others, but it's been okay. Why are you here, Sweetie?" He gestured as he went to start walking. "Shouldn't you be up there studying for...What is it again? Electronics?"

You chuckled going to start walking next to him. "Programming and computer science. And no. I didn't have anything to do today so I figured it'd be nice to visit you. Maybe we can get lunch or something?" 

He seemed to brighten up at the good news. "Honey, that's the best news I had all day."

All day? Your brow rose in curiosity. "Did something happen?'

Again he sighed and a hand reached up to scratch his head. "Well I've been having a bit of a problem with my usual pick up guy."

"What happened?"

"Well my usual salvage guy was supposed to be here this morning to pick up Sugar Rush, but their truck broke down and I'm going to have to wait until they get it fixed," he explained as you both passed the whack-a-mole game, "I guess I can just ask someone to look online for a different local salvage company or I can wheel it out near the dumpsters."

"Sugar Rush?" Your brows furrowed in thought as the name definitely rang a bell. Wasn't that game the racing game that was candy land themed? You vaguely remembered playing it two or three times over the years, but you weren't too familiar with it. "Ya mean that racing game that looks like Willy Wonka made it?"

He huffed a chuckle. "That's one way to put it I guess." But he nodded. "Yeah. Two days ago the darned thing broke and unfortunately it'd cost me more to fix it than to pay someone else to haul it outta here."

"Uh huh..." You hummed it thought. "How'd it break?"

"Apparently the game went coco like your great Nana and someone broke the steering wheel thingamajig on it. I don't know what to do with it now except to wheel it over to the corner until they're able to pick it up I suppose."

"Hey, Uncle Litwak. What if I take it?"

That got him to stop walking and turn to you in question. "You want to what now, Sweetie?"

You smiled at him. "I can take it if you don't want it anymore." You offered to his surprise. "I'm working really hard to study programming so I can use it as a practice project! Maybe I can even get it fixed for you!"

He hummed rubbing at his head again. "Well...I guess it would save me the trouble of getting it outta here and it'd just be taking up space, but are you sure you'd want to do that?"

You nodded. "I'd love to take it!"

...He smiled. "Well alright. If you want it that bad it's yours."

You beamed. "Thanks, Uncle Litwak! Lemme buy you some lunch to make up for it! My treat!"

"Sweetie, that's an offer I can't refuse."

With some help you managed to get the old game loaded up and strapped safely into your truck and hauled it all the way home after your visit was over. Your neighbors were nice enough to help you unload it and carry it back to your apartment where you were fully able to get a good look at it. 

It wasn't in too bad shape. Of course there was the destroyed steering wheel and when you plugged it in, the screen was a bit glitchy but otherwise everything seemed to be ok. The easiest part to fix was the steering wheel. You ended up finding a new steering wheel for two hundred dollars on ebay and ended up purchasing it. Was it expensive? Yes. Did you want to fix the console? Also yes. It took a whole week of waiting before you got a friend of yours, who fixed computers and other devices as a side gig, to reattach the new steering wheel and clean up a little bit of the outside.

If you didn't know it was old, you'd say it was brand new. However the hardest part of the fix up was the internal touch ups as you called it. Taking a careful sweep through inside, showed no damage to any of the wires or motherboard. That was good. It was a little dusty but nothing a soft duster cloth couldn't fix. All that was left was checking on the code.

So when you hooked it up to your laptop, you were surprised to see so much missing. Specifically a lot of the codes for NPCs and game racers.

Now that was certainly strange. Why wasn't there any coding for one of the most important aspects of the game? Sure it was just a simple racing arcade game but it didn't make sense to not include that. No wonder the game wasn't working. Your poor uncle must've been scammed and sold a cheap knockoff or something. 

Well other than the missing characters, there didn't seem to be anything else wrong with the coding at all. This was a perfect opportunity to practice coding in some characters of your own! But first thing's first. You'd run a virus scan on it just to be sure everything was working ok. 

THAT was the first time something strange happened.

It was a routine virus scan being performed on the console. You've done it before. So when suddenly the consoles screen glitched out and your laptop quickly shut down to the blue screen of death in the middle of said scan, you were shocked. 

That hadn't happened before.

A few taps of your keyboard did nothing. In order to get it to stop you had to unplug your laptop from the console which... instantly fixed it and got rid of the blue screen which surprised you. There must've been something wrong with the system. So you unplugged it, replugged it, and got the game to reset. 

Everything seemed to work ok after that. 

You tried the virus scan again and this time it worked. Detecting nothing. Weird but you guessed that the game console being older than your laptop would have a bit of trouble adjusting to the laptop at first.

That wasn't the only strange thing however. Programming in characters in your free time between classes and other obligations was pretty simple and fun. Really the hardest parts was looking online for the normal character models from the original game and getting their exact details and voice lines in. Thank gosh for internet connections. 

The strange thing was when you were trying to code in that princess character. Vanellope Von something or other. You were trying to get it as close to the original game as possible. You got maybe most of the coding for her model done when all of a sudden your laptop blue screened again.

"What the-!?" You tapped the spacebar on your laptop to no avail. A frustrated growl escaped your throat as you glared at the stupid blue screen. "You've gotta be kidding me!" You tried and tried to get it to stop. It only stopped when you disconnected from the system again only to find all your previous progress GONE. "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! IT TOOK ME DAYS TO DO THAT!!"

Stupid laptop. 

You had to start all over again. This time you decided to make the code and only add it to the game once it was all finished. The result of it was you having a full working model for the Princess in game sitting on the popcorn box throne and waving at the players as they raced when she herself wasn't chosen for the roster. FINALLY. 

You were so happy to finally get it in the game that you probably didn't notice the gleaming glitching eyes within the crowd of cheering nut npcs when you did a test through drive of the game to see how you did so far. Not bad. It was a bit buggy still with a few kinks to work out, but nothing you couldn't fix eventually. You especially made a mental note to fix the spontaneous glitch that made you randomly get stuck in the track if you crashed.

The next time you got back around to the game wasn't until a few months later. Studying, exams, family, and your irl job had eaten everything else for a long while. So imagine your surprise when you say down to do a quick playthrough of the game, just as a refresher on what you needed to work on, and you found no traces of the princess in her popcorn throne.

The roster was full of eight of the racers you remembered adding however the one right in the middle was one you'd never seen before..

"That's weird," you mumbled to yourself staring right at the middle character on the roster. "I don't remember adding you."

Right smack dab in the middle of the roster was an odd character. A man nearly complete bald. He looked goofy all dressed up in puffy pants and Tinkerbell like shoes and a purple overcoat, striking an equally as goofy pose standing on one leg and both arms thrown up into the air. A crown sat on top his head as much like the other characters stared at you blankly. 

You definitely didn't add this guy. Who was he? Where did he come from? Had you added him but forgotten?...No. You kept track of what you added. Confusion and curiosity took a hold of you and so you use the steering wheel and peddle to choose said mysterious character. He let out a happy laugh as he was picked out and the game moved along to the racing bits. 

However you did notice the absence of one said princess whom was supposed to be sitting in the popcorn throne or in another one of the other racecars. Instead of her in the racecars designed for her, it was the king looking character you'd chosen for the race. 

"What in the world is going on?", you questioned as you continued the game. 

And was shocked to find it running so ..so smoothly. The previous bugs and glitches were all but gone.  Even when you accidentally slammed into an up coming jawbreaker you didn't get stuck in the track. If anything a few annoyed sounding shouts instead came out of the character. You drove him around and listened to his voice lines of 'Have some candy!' and 'To the rightful ruler goes the spoils!' Only getting second place.

The cutscene that played out was your character standing in the middle of a confetti spotlight as a silver trophy floated down into his awaiting arms. He looked disappointed by his prize humming before saying the voice line-

"Not what I deserve...but it'll do for now."

"Yeah. I definitely didn't program you." You turned around in your seat towards the laptop sat up on the desk and didn't notice the way the character LOOKED DIRECTLY AT YOUR FORM as you stood up. "I'd better check on this."

The panicked look upon the character's face as he quickly fled the scene dropping the silver trophy in the process as you turned on your laptop and began going through the files. Only to be shocked to not see any of the codes for the princess you spent hours on. ...It was as if you never put code in to begin with. Furious you began going through the strands and strands of code looking for a trace of the strand you put in. You didn't find any. However you did find one file you didn't recognize.

"...Turbo?"

Turbo? You didn't remember labeling any files under that name. And where did all of the process code go?! You implemented it in perfectly and it was working out just a few months ago. You didn't have a chance to explore the code any further before once again your laptop blue screened as you tried to access it. For a moment there was nothing but you just staring at the screen before you ended up slamming your face into the desk and let out a muffled cry of frustration.

"I don't get what's going on!," you vented to a friend a few days later as you both were having lunch. He listened patiently as you rambled on pointing a poor fry at everything. "I made sure the code was perfect and it was working fine when I was finally able to put it in! I don't get what's wrong with the stupid thing!"

Your friend hummed as he chewed on cheap college Cafeteria pizza. "Maybe the code wasn't compatible? I mean the console's like what? Over fifteen years old now? It probably got deleted from it or something because it wasn't compatible with the older mainframe."

"Then why is everything else working? I don't get it! And my stupid laptop keeps breaking down in the middle of it all.'' You threw the fry in your mouth with a grumble as your friend hummed.

"Maybe it's not the console but your laptop? Did you get it checked out for viruses and stuff?", he tried suggesting to which you nodded yes.

"Yeah. The repair guy said there's nothing wrong with it which makes it weirder."

"Then maybe there's something wrong with the connection between the devices. How about I come over and see if there's anything wrong?"

"That might actually be helpful. Thanks."

Three days later your friend stopped by with his own laptop which you both connected to the console as two eyes watched you from the frozen pose of the game roster. Your friend was easily able to get access to the code and go through it. First running a virus scan which turned up nothing thank goodness. At least you knew there was no viruses attacking your poor laptop. He hummed along with the distant sounds of the cheery music coming from the console as he went through the code for twenty minutes as you watched from over his shoulder before turning to you.

"There's nothing wrong with anything. No bugs or anything else I can see. Your coding skills seem to be going through."

"There was definitely some bugs I needed to sort out."

He shrugged. "Maybe the console just needed some time to process all the new code fully."

Hm. Maybe. But that still didn't explain the disappearance of one character and the appearance of another one you never saw. "Is there anything lying doormat anywhere? Maybe some unfinished code?"

"I did find some unfinished code for what looks like a disregarded bonus level, but nothing like you were talking about. Is there anything specific to look for?"

You hummed. "....Can you find a strand called 'Turbo'?"

"I can try." Cartoon eyes from the roster widened in worry losing his smile as your friend went through the code again for the characters since that's where you first saw this 'Turbo' profile. "Taffyta Muttonfudge. Minty Saki. King Candy-....I don't see any 'Turbo' here, Bud."

Huh. That's really weird. You KNOW you definitely saw that. But- You pointed out the King Candy profile. "I know I didn't add this guy. Where the heck did it come from?"

Again your friend was unhelpful as he shrugged. "It's not coming up as a foreign program so it must've been in the console when you got it. It's probably an unlockable character that you unknowingly brought out during the input of new codes and fixing the bugs. Did you try resetting the console?"

"Yeah. Three times since my Uncle gave it to me."

"Try doing that one more time and see if that fixes it. If not..then I guess the Princess Vanellope code just isn't compatible with the software somehow."

You did as he advised. As soon as he left resetting the game and still feeling disappointed by your princess being gone. You also tried implementing her code only one more time. You completely gave up on that when your laptop blue screened...Again. So you settled for just having a picture of the princess racing in her pink goggles on the side of the game console from there on out. There was only so much your poor laptop could take before it could eventually break from this.

You were frustrated with the stubborn process but you were satisfied with the end result of all your hard work. Sitting down to play the game became a past time of yours outside of the stress from college and irl life. Your friend must've been right about the old motherboard taking it's sweet time to process the code inputted into it. Because now everything was running smoothly and there didn't seem to be anything majorly needing to be fixed. Although you did tweak a few things.

You gave the clouds a more cotton candy appearance during race scenes, and added a glitter sparkle affect to the dust clouds the cars would kick up as they drove along. However you really wanted to add more to that unfinished bonus level code eventually. Maybe adding it as a bonus points thing or something. You hadn't decided yet. 

But you were having fun with the game more than you expected. In fact you were debating on whether or not to give it back to your uncle or just keeping it for yourself as a testament to what you could do! However there was a few things that were weird that you didn't start noticing until after you started enjoying it more.

Despite the reservations you first had with this king character, you eventually got to like him the more you played. He was pretty goofy and an oddball in a good way. And you found yourself giggling at his antics on more than one occasion with his silly poses or funny voice lines. Not the princess you wanted but a king you don't mind having.

 It was nice to unwind and play a silly game and so you invited a friend to play with you. The two of you picked your characters. Him that kid with the pumpkin hat on his head and you decided to choose the goofy looking King Candy. The game was going well and you were surprised to see you win considering your friend was the more experienced gamer but the cute little bouncy jig and laugh tour character did receiving the gold trophy was enough to make you smile.

"Wow. You sure did a good job on the game," he complimented as you both stood up. "I guess everything turned out good in the end anyways."

You nodded. "Yeah. I still wanna finish the unused bonus level though. You wanna see what I got so far?"

He agreed and together you hooked up your computer (praying that it didn't mysteriously blue screen again) and opened it up to show your friend what you had done so far. 

"Wow. You almost got it finished. Have you decided what you're gonna do yet?"

"It's either gonna be a bonus level or I'm gonna add it to the main track as an alternative route to the finish line. I haven't decided yet. Maybe I'll add it to where you can earn a bonus trophy from the king or something."

That's when he laughed. "First you didn't like him, but now you do? Wow, Y/n. I didn't know you were into Dilfs.~" He teased you to which you scowled at him and pushed his shoulder as he laughed.

"I am not! Shut up!"

"Or is he more of a foxy grandp-"

"Finish that sentence and you're dead, Bradley!"

"C'mon. It's not my fault you're attracted to older- HEY!!"

He laughed and cackled as you kept slapping at him red faced, causing him to get up and flee to the kitchen with you right behind him. Unbeknownst to all of you a curious ear and pair of eyes had been observing this entire time and was curious as to what this 'dilf' was. Neither of you noticed in your fight your laptop exiting out to Google and 'dilf meaning' being typed into the search bar. 

You only were annoyed with your friend when you came back to a shut off computer, assuming it had turned itself off after not being used for a while, and to the same cutscene of the King still holding the gold trophy... However he looked a little different. He seemed to be staring off at nothing at sudden realization dawned on him, red faced, and half his face hiding halfway behind said trophy. 

"Want to go another round?," you offered changing the subject. 

Bradley laughed. "Sure. Gonna use King Dilf again? Or are you gonna be choosing another?"

You glared at him. "I'm not so you can quick making fun of me now!'

Bradley laughed at you but held up his hands. "I was just joking. But whatever her majesty desires."

"Oh, I'm gonna beat you to the ground!"

Queen huh?

You did end up beating Bradley, but only because his character was knocked off the track by the King Candy character in the background. During the gumball falls part, all he heard was the announcer saying 'POWER UP' and 'SWEET SEEKERS' before you both heard the famous voice line.

"Have thom candy!"

Next thing Bradley knew, his Rancis character was shot by a flaming yellow mini jawbreaker at great speeds and literally knocked off the tracks and out of bounds. Making him groan at the high pitched laugh King Candy gave as he drove past and you made your way to the cherry bomb cake. In the end you still lost but you felt satisfied with knowing that you were avenged in the end even though the NPC had no clue what transpired. After all he was just a video game character. 

"I'll see you later, Brad. Hope the jester knows not to make fun of the king now."

"Yeah, yeah." He grumbled exhausted at his own joke being thrown back to him. "I'll see you Monday. Make sure you get some sleep before classes tonight will ya?"

"I will. Don't worry about it."

Waving goodbye to him, you closed the door before turning around and stretching out with a yawn. Yeah. It was probably time you got some sleep. Walking past the game console you smiled at it and patted it's side.

"Y'know..I think I'll keep you after all. You're pretty fun to play with."

You turned to start walking towards your bedroom-

"TURBOTASTIC!!"

You jumped at the sudden voice as before turning back to the game's screen. Nothing but the characters posing with frozen fake smiles stared back at you as you blinked... before turning around and rubbing your face.

"I need to get more sleep."

[maidragoste]

servant with daeron targaryen, they grew up together and are in old town?!

hi, how are you?

I apologize for taking so long to finish writing your request 😅

I hope you like the final result. if you have more requests with daeron, don't hesitate to send them to me because I really enjoyed writing this 🥰🥰

As I always say, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated because they motivate me to keep writing 💖💖

I remind everyone that my inbox is open to receive more requests (not just from daeron), headcanons, or thoughts ���

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

You finished serving the food and checked with a quick glance that nothing was missing. You wanted everything to be perfect since tomorrow the prince would leave Old Town and go to war.

Once you confirmed that everything was ready you looked at the prince, who was sitting patiently waiting for you to finish. Normally you would have made a quick bow and left but this time you couldn't help but stare at him. You had been serving him for years when he first came from King's Landing, and you had gotten used to seeing him every day. Daeron wasn't like his other cousins who pretended you didn't exist when you entered their chambers to make their beds and he was always kind when he asked you for something. The both usually share a conversation while you tidy his chamber or serve him food. A couple of times he tried to help you but then he stopped when he saw that you were getting angry because it was supposed to be your job, not his.

Daeron even went so far as to make up fake tasks just so you could keep talking to him instead of going to take care of his uncles and cousins.

It would be strange for you not to see him every day. You would miss him.

“I will pray for your safe return, my prince,” you said looking at him with nostalgia.

“Thank you, I appreciate it very much” he replied with a small smile.

You nodded and bowed ready to leave but the prince stopped you by taking your arm. You looked at him surprised.

“Please stay. I would like to have dinner with you,” he asked as he let go of you, not wanting to impose himself on you. He had only grabbed you because he got nervous seeing you leaving.

You looked at the table again. Now it made sense because he asked for one more dish and ordered more food than usual. You thought that maybe the prince would share dinner with one of his cousins. You had never imagined that it was for you.

“My prince, you flatter me but it would be frowned upon for you to share the table with someone of such low status,” you said trying to ignore the sadness you felt for rejecting his invitation. You would love to spend more time with Daeron but it was not your place, your place is to be a simple servant.

“You were my first friend here and I would like to spend my last night with you”

Daeron would never forget how in his first days in Old Town he was sad to leave his home and didn’t want to meet the rest of his family you encouraged him, and you reminded him that he could always write letters to his brothers and his mother, and when you could you played with him because you knew he still couldn’t get along with his cousins. Not only that but you never told anyone how he cried in those days. The first time you found him crying Daeron could barely sleep that night because he was sure the next day there would be whispers about how sensitive and foolish he was to be crying just because he was away from King’s Landing. But that never happened, no one ever found out. And that’s how you gained his trust.

Maybe you are a weak woman but you couldn't refuse his invitation again, not when you could hear the sincerity in his voice and you could see how his purple eyes looked at you with the same longing you looked at him with.

“Fine” you agreed and you saw how he seemed to relax as you sat down." I hope to be good company"

“You always are,” he declared, causing your face to start to heat up.

“You can't say that kind of thing” you scolded him nervously.

It's just dinner, you reminded yourself trying to calm your heart at his statement.

“Why?” he asked genuinely.

“Because you are a prince and I am a servant. If anyone were to hear you it would be frowned upon.”

Daeron frowned. You are more than a servant, he knows you, you are his friend and he knows that you are a kind person who cares for others, especially him.

Besides, he is the third son, it is not as if he were going to inherit anything or have the duty to have a good marriage. He was sure that if he told his mother that he wanted to be with you, she would end up accepting him or at least he knew that he could convince Aegon to accept him. He didn't think that it would surprise them either after all he usually talks about you in his letters.

“I don't care what others think as long as I can be with you.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” you asked, feeling nervous, frustrated, and even more in love with him. It wasn’t fair that he told you this before he left.

Months ago, Daeron wouldn’t have told you because he was afraid of making you uncomfortable and ruining things between you. He could handle you rejecting his feelings, but he couldn’t handle you moving away from him, starting to avoid him and stopping talking to him.

But now, with the war so close, he couldn’t leave without first declaring his feelings to you. He knew that if he left without doing so and suffered on the battlefield, the last thing he would think about would be you and how sorry he was for not telling you how he felt.

“Because if I die it would be one of my greatest regrets to leave this world without first telling you how I feel about you, how important you are, how much I appreciate you, how you brighten my day with your presence and how I spend every night wishing you would be more than just my friend,” said the prince, opening his heart to you, and you listened to him in wonder, because you never dreamed that he could tell you something like that, but at the same time you wanted to cry because this seemed to be a farewell.

“You’re not going to die,” you said instantly, taking his hand across the table, forgetting decorum and your place. “Please don’t say that,” you pleaded, clinging to his hand, needing to feel his touch. If he were to die, you would spend the rest of your days mourning him.

“You know that is a possibility, my lady.” Seeing the anguish in your eyes, Daeron lifted their clasped hands and kissed yours. “But I will do everything in my power to return safely to you.”

“Do you promise? Because I couldn’t bear to lose you now that I know my feelings are reciprocated,” you admitted with a trembling voice.

Daeron smiled, feeling happy knowing that you loved him too, but he didn’t want to see you distressed.

“I promise,” he said, using his other hand to caress your cheek lovingly, and you knew you would spend the rest of your days remembering this moment. “When I get back, I will be so close to you that you will get tired of me,” he assured, making you laugh.

And as he listened to you laugh, Daeron thought that now, besides protecting his family, he had another reason to want to win the war. He had to get back to you.

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[dsireland86]

Hi, I was just wondering if i could request a Song inspired fic with Jolly x fem reader? And i was thinking the song Faithfully by Journey?

I absolutely love Journey and this song! Thank you for this!!!

Faithfully

TAGS: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @fadingintothegrey @an0mallly @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody

"Highway run into the midnight sun Wheels go 'round and 'round, you're on my mind Restless hearts sleep alone tonight Sendin' all my love along the wire"

He missed her. More than he would say. Jolly laid in his bunk, hearing the hum of the bus's engine and feeling its vibration. He was lonely for her, even though he and the band had much to do for the next few weeks.   

Tossing and turning, his heart was restless. He couldn't sleep, not without her body curled up into him. Grabbing his phone, he opened his picture folder and searched through the countless ones he had of her smiling as he did so. Then he stopped. That was it. That was the one he was looking for. It was a simple picture, one of her in her pj's sitting on the couch with her feet curled up into her like always. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun with loose strands falling out. She was looking at him with a small smile on her face because she hated having her picture taken, even though Jolly took many of her. She looked beautiful. She was beautiful. Inside and out. And she was his. Totally, one hundred percent his. He missed her terribly

"Good morning, beautiful," Jolly answered, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

"Morning, sleepyhead. Have a rough night?"

Jolly nodded, still half asleep.

"Awe. Why? What's wrong?" 

"I don't have you here. That's what's wrong. I miss you more than I thought I would"

"Awe Jolly, baby," she sighed. "I know how you feel. I slept like shit last night, too. I miss you so badly that I had to sleep in one of your shirts. I think I'm going to have to until you come home.

"Which shirt," Jolly grinned.

Y/N stood up, revealing Jolly's Swedish flag shirt.

"Hmm, my favorite one," he smiled.

"Exactly," she smiled back, returning to her seat.

"I Iove you."

"I love you too."

"I'm forever yours."

"Faithfully. I've got to go. Gotta get ready for this really important meeting I have in three hours," she said, kissing her fingers and laying them on the screen of her phone.

"Okay, babe. Good luck."

"Thanks. You too. I know you'll crush it tonight. You and the boys always do, and yes I mean Matt, too."

Jolly laughed, loving how she remembered not to single Matt out after the comment he made over Christmas last year.

"Say hey to everyone for me."

"Will do. Bye."

Jolly ended the call and threw the blankets off, getting up to start the day.

"They say that the road ain't no place to start a family Right down the line it's been you and me And lovin' a music man ain't always what it's supposed to be Oh, girl you stand by me, I'm forever yours, faithfully"

Seven shows in, three more left. Jolly and the boys were whooped. Before the show, he video called y/n, but immediately she knew something was wrong. She said his face didn't hold that normal glow. She was worried about him and asked if she needed to take time off from work and fly out to the next show.

"No, babe, I'm good. Really. I'm just tired. You have enough on your plate. You don't need to worry about me. Only two more shows after tonight, then I'll be home and between your legs, deep inside you, showing you just how much I missed you."

"Oh, baby, you're making my panties wet just thinking about it," Y/N laughed lightly.

"Shut up and stop being such a tease."

"Okay, well, you keep telling yourself that you're okay, Karlsson, but I know you better than you know yourself."

Jolly chuckled.

"I know this isn't easy."

"What?"

"Being with me, loving me while I'm always on the road. I know it's not what you signed up for."

Y/N sighed.

"Jolly, baby, listen, I know I didn't sign up for this. People change, and situations and plans change. But my love for you, that has never changed. You're my person. You'll always be my person, and I'm forever yours,"

"Faithfully," Jolly continued. "I love you, too."

"Good. Now, go out there, kick tonight in the ass so you can finish this tour and come home to me."

"Yes, ma'am." 

"And bein' apart ain't easy on this love affair Two strangers learn to fall in love again. I get the joy of rediscovering you. Oh girl, you stand by me, I'm forever yours, faithfully". 

It's the last night of the tour, then he goes home tomorrow. Jolly was hyped, full of excitement, to be going home to his woman. The guys noticed this and were happy to finally have him back with them, mentally.

The show started and Jolly played just like every night before, but with a little more spirit, except this time when he looked over at the side of the stage, Y/N was standing there, watching him with the biggest smile on her face.

His heart skipped a beat, and the happiness that overtook him was overwhelming. He smiled back at her, absolutely stunned that she really did give up her time to come out and be with him.

"What are you doing here!"

Y/N didn't even bother to answer Jolly, just gathered him up in her arms and kissed him all over his face. Jolly was sweaty, and his hair was damp and sticking somewhat to his face, but she didn't care. He was back in her arms and that was all that mattered.

"You needed me, so I came. I just couldn't get the time off until today."

Jolly was shocked and the look on his face said it.

"I'm going to assume the look on your face right now is a happy shock and not an unhappy shock," she laughed, cupping Jolly's face and kissing him.

His hands found Y/N's lower back as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, smiling as she did. Jolly leaned in, bending her back a little, and kissed her back, smiling too. Her arms snaked around his neck as Jolly's lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, laughing as he spun her around.

"You bet your ass it's a happy shock. I love you," he muttered softly, planting a soft kiss on the end of her nose.

"I love you too, " she whispered.

"And I'm forever yours,"

"Faithfully." 

[dumbasslesbi2]

Let Me Read To You ~ Chapter 2 (Agatha x Rio Bookstore AU)

Chapter 1

Summary:

Rio and Agatha go on their second date! What's the worst that could happen?

Notes:

I couldn't help myself so there's some SMUT in this chapter lol

Rio awoke the next day with a killer headache, she drank way too much once she got back home from her date with Agatha. She needed something to cut the edge off from everything so she may have gotten a bit carried away with some wine and a rose toy. Once she got up and dunked her face into some cold water, she went to go check her phone for any drunk calls or texts she did. Rio let out a sigh of relief once she realized she hadn't sent out any. She went to her coffee machine and made herself some much needed coffee. As she was waiting for her machine to finish, she decided to send a text to Agatha

Good morning gorgeous, hope you had some good sleep 😘

Agatha was still asleep when she got Rio’s text and was awoken by phone vibrating, she looked at the time and was shocked Nicholas hadn't woken up yet. She rubbed her eyes and checked her phone to see who was messaging her. She couldn't help but smile down at her phone.

Well hello there beautiful ❤️, I slept well, hoping you did as well 💖😘

Agatha had Rio giggling at her phone like a schoolgirl . She was falling for a woman who she just met but she wasn't about to deny the u haul lesbian allegations. What Agatha didn't know was that Rio had a group chat with the book club where they gossiped and told each other news constantly 

Rio: Jen, Alice. You guys have to watch her son today pleaseeeeeee. I need to see her again, she's so perfect 😭😭😭

Jen: Fine, only cause we like you Rio 

Alice: SIMP

Lilia: You better not break her heart like your other dates. I actually liked her this time and I would like to have a new member we could keep 

Rio: She's different Lilia, if anything I'm the one genuinely falling here. I don't even know if she feels the same as I do 😭

Alice: Like I said earlier, SIMP 

Rio: Alice I swear to god 

Alice: You swear to god what? That me n Jen rnt going to watch her son now cause ur being mean now? 

Rio: Don't you dare

Jen: She's kidding, we'll watch him don't worry. Have fun tonight 

Rio: Thank you two 💚

Alice and Jen decided to head on over to Agatha's after seeing the texts, they already planned on going on over since Jen made a pie and wanted to share it with Agatha. “Hey Agatha! We brought on over a pie that Jen made last night, it's apple so we hope Nicholas will like it too” Alice said as Agatha opened the door. “Aw,thanks you too! Nicholas loves apple pie so I'm sure he'll love it. Come on in, do you two want coffee?” Agatha asked, taking the pie into the kitchen. “I'll take a coffee!” Alice said, following Agatha. “Oh actually I have a favor to ask of you two” Agatha asked the couple while pressing down her French press. “Of course, anything for our favorite neighbor,” Jen told her with a wink. “Rio wants to go on another date tonight and I need a babysitter for Nicky” she told them, giving Alice a mug of coffee. “Also any creamer or sugar?” She asked, walking over to the fridge. “ Yes please, also we'd love to look after Nicholas, where is he anyways?” Alice asked, noticing the absence of the child. “He's still sleeping, didn't have the heart to wake him up when I saw him asleep” Agatha said, handing Alice a creamer and some sugar packets. “Sooo, how was your date with Rio yesterday?” Jen asked, smirking. “It was something,” Agatha said nonchalantly. “What's that supposed to mean?” she asked in return. “If you wanted straight answers you should have asked a straight lady” Agatha retorted with a laugh. “I'm taking that as a it went really well” Alice said, taking a sip of her coffee. “I mean, you're not wrong. Also I hope you don't mind, I'm going to go wake up Nicky and give him some breakfast” Agatha said, looking at the two. “Yeah of course, do what you gotta do” Alice said, waving her off. While Agatha went up stairs to get her son , Jen decided to text the group chat 

Jen: Update, Agatha really likes Rio 

Alice: She tried to play it off but it's so obvi she's into u dude 

Rio: Oh thank God. I got scared I fucked up some how

Lilia: The only reason you “fuck up” is because you leave women without saying anything 

Rio: Lilia I swear to fucking god 

Jen: She's not wrong, you do have a ghosting problem

Alice: If u ghost this one, ur dead to me 

Rio: I'm not!!! I told you guys I genuinely really like her 😭

Lilia: We'll see 

Jen and Alice put their phones away once they heard the footsteps coming down. “Hewwo Miss Jen and Alice” Nicholas greeted them, running over to the kitchen. “Nicholas! What did I tell you about running!” Agatha yelled from the last step. “Sorry mommy!” Nicholas said as he went up to the couple. “Hi Nicholas, how are you buddy?” Alice asked, ruffling his hair. “I'm good, I had a dream that I was an astronaut and went to the moon and it was made of chalk so I could draw with it and then I took a piece but it poofed when I got back to earth so then i had to go to my big big rocket and-” “Nicky I don't think they need to hear the whole dream. How does banana and waffles sound for breakfast, hm?” Agatha interrupted her son from yapping to the two. “He's so cute,” Alice said, finishing her coffee. “Thanks, I'm just dreading the day where I blink and he becomes a teenager” Agatha said, putting eggo waffles in the toaster. “Well I think we'll get going, text me when we should come over and watch him” Jen said getting up from her seat. “Sounds good! Thanks again!” Agatha told them, getting the door for them. She went back to finish giving Nicholas his breakfast and decided to text Rio once she finished.

Hi sweetheart, good news! Jen and Alice agreed to watching Nicholas so we can go out today! 

Sounds great, gorgeous. How does 5 sound? We could stay at the bookstore and watch a movie. I have a projector and everything ;) 

That sounds wonderful. Can't wait to see you 💖

Te veo 💚

Rio couldn't help but giggle after texting Agatha. That woman did things to her that she hadn't felt in years. Even though it was only the morning still, Rio had decided to already start cleaning the shop and set it up for their date. She even made sure that her pillows and seating nook looked perfect and just right for the two of them. As Rio continued to ready the place for their date the time went by and eventually five o’clock came quicker than she thought. 

Agatha had parked behind the bookstore where Rio showed her yesterday and walked to the front of the store and knocked on the door. Rio heard the knock and looked at herself one final time on her phone, making sure her makeup looked fine. “Why hello beautiful” Rio said, opening the door to her shop to Agatha. “Hi sweetheart” Agatha said giggling. “Wow you really decked the place out for little ol’ me” Agatha told Rio as she walked in. “What can I say, I wanted to impress a certain lady” Rio told her, kissing her on the cheek. “Mmm well you definitely are” Agatha said, grabbing Rio’s chin and giving her a peck. “C’mon let’s pick out a movie, I already have the popcorn and everything ready” Rio told her, showing her to the couch and a million throw pillows. “Ooooh, quite the collection. Why don’t we go with something classic. I’m thinking Carol?” Agatha asked, looking at Rio’s blu-ray collection. “Anything you want gorgeous” Rio said, taking the disc out and putting it in.

 At first Agatha was a bit nervous to cuddle with her but as soon as Rio sat down she put her arms around Agatha and put her head on her shoulder. As the movie progressed Rio had begun to tease Agatha a little bit here and there. She would feed Agatha chocolate and distract her, putting her hand on and off her leg. Agatha couldn't help herself any more and turned her head to kiss Rio. As the two progressed Rio put her hands around Agatha's neck but Agatha started to let her hands wander. She unconsciously put her hand on one of Rio's breasts and started to knead. Rio could hold back anymore and moaned loudly. “Oh I'm so sorry” Agatha said, backing away from the kiss. “Don't be, I loved it” Rio said, leaning into Agatha “oh, okay” Agatha told Rio, leaning back into the kiss. Rio couldn't stop herself anymore and bit Agatha's bottom lip, only then to dominate the kiss with her tongue. Agatha was taken aback at first but was happy to let Rio dominate her. As the two continued, Agatha let her hands wander Rio’s body and slowly she started lifting her shirt. Rio started grinding more on Agatha and started pulling her shirt off. “God you're so beautiful” Agatha said after helping Rio unclip her bra. “I could say the same thing about you, come on, you’re wearing too much, gorgeous” Rio told Agatha, unbuttoning Agatha’s shirt. Once Agatha’s shirt was removed, she instantly latched herself on Rio’s neck and jaw. She kissed any and all skin she could seek out. Rio moaned and let Agatha continue on before unzipping Agatha’s pants. Rio couldn’t hold back and slowly brought her finger down to tease Agatha’s waistband. “Please, please I need you” Agatha whined. Under regular circumstances Rio would have teased Agatha more but she was equally as needed right now. She plunged her fingers into Agatha’s underwear and put two fingers into her. “Mmmm thank you, thank you Rio” Agatha started to chant, holding herself closer to Rio.

 After Rio started to get a good rhythm going she started to mark Agatha. She started biting and licking at Agatha’s breasts and chest. Agatha was about to tell her not to mark her too badly but she caved into it. Agatha was a shivering and moaning mess for Rio at this point. “I’m so close Rio, I-I’m close” Agatha said with a shudder. Rio responded by putting a third finger into her and started making circles on her clit with her thumb. “Come on baby, give it to me. Be a good girl and let it all go” Rio said, kissing on her jawline. “Oh god! I’m cumming! Rio I’m cumming!” Agatha exclaimed, moaning and practically holding onto Rio for dear life. Rio slowly started to take her fingers out. She leaned back from Agatha, licking and sucking her fingers for Agatha to see. Rio let go of her fingers with a pop from her mouth. To which Agatha could only respond by kissing her passionately. She loved tasting herself in the kiss and started to practically put her tongue down Rio’s throat. As she started to dominate Rio, she started pulling down Rio’s pants. As Rio’s pants and underwear got pulled down, Agatha let go of the kiss and started kissing down Rio’s body. She made sure to stop at Rio’s breasts for a minute and let them get the attention they deserved. She sucked and tugged on them with her teeth while teasing Rio’s other nipple by pinching it and rubbing them with her fingers. After Rio had given Agatha the moans she wanted to hear, she continued to kiss further down until stopping at her bush. She nuzzled against Rio’s pussy, looking up at Rio’s eyes. Rio’s face was the most flustered Agatha had ever seen but her eyes were the most important part to her. Rio’s eyes were almost completely dark with desire. Slowly Rio brought her hand onto Agatha’s head and pushed her down. Agatha started teasing Rio by just licking down her slit but made sure to surprise Rio. She started sucking on Rio’s clit which made her thrust like crazy, practically grinding her pussy onto Agatha’s face. She moaned and rocked more onto Agatha. “Oh god Agatha! I’m cumming!” Rio exclaimed, digging her fingers into Agatha’s scalp. As Agatha brought her to her climax she made sure to hold Rio by her hips. Rio was stuck shuddering on to the couch and slowly released her grip on Agatha’s head. Agatha started to lick slower, letting Rio ride it out. Once Rio was able to catch her breath Agatha started to come back up and sat next to Rio on the couch. Rio instantly put her arms around Agatha and hugged her, hiding her face into the crook of Agatha’s neck. She breathed in the scent of Agatha’s perfume with the mix of the smell of sex. She never wanted to move again if she could stay like this with Agatha forever. 

“If I knew you would fuck me this hard I would have let you fuck me sooner” Agatha said, playing with Rio’s hair. “If I knew you’d eat me out like that I would have suggested myself for dinner yesterday” Rio told her, leaning back from the hug to kiss Agatha. Rio let go of the hug for a minute to bend down and get her pack of cigarettes from her jeans. “Want one?” Rio asked, holding out the pack. “Sure, why not” Agatha said, taking one. Instead of lighting Agatha’s with her lighter, she brought their cigarettes to kiss. Rio looked at Agatha during it and once they locked eyes, she winked, making Agatha blush insanely. After a moment of silence of smoking and enjoying each other’s presences Agatha couldn’t help but ask a question. “So what exactly are we? I don’t exactly let just anyone fuck me” Agatha said, looking over at Rio. “I don’t either, honestly. Look, I really like you Agatha and I don’t want this to be just a one time thing or just fucking. I wanna be in a relationship with you, I wanna see what happens with us together” Rio said, staring into Agatha’s eyes. “I do too. I wanna be with you, I wanna be your girlfriend” Agatha said, giggling like a highschooler when she said girlfriend. “Mmm I like that, Agatha my girlfriend Harkness.” Rio said, giggling with Agatha. They stayed there giggling and kissing each other every few minutes. Once Agatha saw how late it was she shot Alice and Jen texts that she would be staying at Rio’s for the night, receiving a thumbs up and congratulations from the both. She told Rio that she was set to stay at her place for the night to which Rio excitedly took Agatha upstairs. Rio unlocked the door to her apartment and showed Agatha the way to her bedroom. “I have a sweatshirt and some shorts you could sleep in,” Rio said, looking back at Agatha. “That’s perfect, thank you sweetheart” Agatha said, taking the clothes from Rio and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “It’s the least I can do, don’t want you sleeping naked. Unless you want to?” Rio asked with a smirk. “Mmm maybe not tonight” Agatha said, winking back at Rio as she started putting on the clothes Rio gave her. As they went to bed Rio just like before instantly had her hands on Agatha. Before drifting off to sleep Agatha took Rio’s hands and kissed them, wishing her a good night. Rio smiled and kissed Agatha’s head before also wishing her a good night as well. As Agatha was falling asleep in her arms she thought how she could get used to this. What she didn’t know was that Rio was thinking the exact same thing.

[middlingmay]

Hello 😌 for the late night call prompt:

"i know you didn't just hang up on me without saying 'i love you'."

This could be so sweet (or not). Would love to see your take on it!

Hello! I'm feeling the fluff today, so I hope you like it. Thanks for the ask :) <3

John's mouth had served him both well and ill in his life.

He was funny and he was charming. He was able to spin a story and keep a table entertained. He could cheer someone up easy, diffuse arguments if he chose to. And because he could read people quick sharp, he could either make fast friends with a few choice words, or could provoke or end a fight depending on which of his more mercurial moods he was looking to feed that night.

But his favourite thing, he'd come to find over the years, was talking in a constant, rhythmic roll and lulling Gale, a notoriously poor sleeper, to a good night's sleep.

John wasn't even going to let state lines keep him from that privilege.

Work had sent him away for a couple of nights to deal with an issue and another officer. It's what he got with his reputation for being able to influence and mediate with the best of them. And of course, just two days before he was due to go, Gale fell sick. Not sick enough to warrant John calling it off; but just sick enough to worry and stress him all the way out because he wouldn't be here to take care of his Gale.

Gale who had no sympathy for his plight whatsoever.

"It's two days. I can take care of myself; I'm a big boy."

John leered without intent and moseyed into Gale's personal space. "Oh, I know."

Gale spluttered a dry cough into John's chest and struggled to get his breath back and John whined.

"Come on, Gale. Just say the word and I'll cancel. You won't have to lift a finger until you're better."

Gale pushed him off and tugged the cover he had draped around him like a cape in tighter. "No, thank you," he grimaced. "You'll hover, you'll get sick, then I'll be taking care of the two of us. Get to stepping, John. Quicker you get there, quicker you get back."

So they'd said goodbye, Gale tolerating John's too-many long looks back with barely a roll of his eyes (and John knew that was just because even his eyes were hurting). But he could kick him out the house and force him to go to work and make fun of him as much as he liked, but Gale couldn't stop John from calling him for their regular night time chatterbox sessions.

"I thought you were working," Gale drawled raspy into the phone.

"At nine pm? Not enough overtime pay in the world, sweets. How you feeling?"

Gale's answers were brief and perfunctory, but John could hear the ever-present affection even through the brevity. And John was always happy to pick up the slack. He murmured to Gale about the trip, the shit show at the office, and the gossip he entirely made up about his colleagues in another state just to keep himself entertained. He spoke about the town and the hotel, and what he had to eat. He told him every tiny detail he could think of, until he heard Gale's breaths even out and the soft snore of the congested drift across the line.

Chuckling low so as not to wake Gale, he finally hung up, proud of himself for being able to fulfil his duties even if he wasn't there in person.

But it only lasted a few seconds before his phone screen lit up, and Doll flashed across the screen. John swiped and lifted the phone to his ear to hear Gale's thick, sleepy reprimand.

"I know you didn't just hang up on me without saying I love you."

John grinned wide and dimpled and all teeth and gum at Gale's grumpy complaint. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. How rude."

"Mmph." Offended. Like a puffed up cat. John could practically see the displeased frown in the centre of Gale's brow.

"I love you. Now go to sleep."

"Mmph." Contented. Pleased. Maybe with that tiny little smile Gale had that pulled his apple cheeks up.

John stayed on the phone long past Gale's return to sleep. Just in case.

[ironarrow87]

Hazbin Hotel Imagine: Help From a Concerned Friend

Summary: You've had a bad day, but even if you don't know it yet, someone is always watching.

Warnings: None

Notes: As always, please do not copy or post my work elsewhere.

Today had just been the absolute worst.

One thing after the other, nothing positive, and only frustrating obstacles kept you from going about your day. You knew it was supposed to be Hell…well..in Hell..but come on.

It was no surprise to you that by the end of the day, you were in tears. You stayed in the lobby long after Husker had shut down the bar and turned in for the night, arms wrapped around your legs, and face buried in your knees. You knew that when you’ve reached your max frustration tolerance like this, you’d be unable to sleep without spurring on some sort of panic attack.

So, here you were, alone in the dark as the residents of the hotel slept on.

Or so you thought.

“My, I didn’t expect to see such a miserable display this late at night, my dear,” came a voice full of cheer that your mood did not match.

“Go away, Alastor.”

The air filled with brief audience gasps, altered by his usual radio filter, mocking you. “Now, is that any way to treat a concerned friend?”

You raise your head enough to glare at his grinning face. “Is that what you are?”

You can hear him tut as he bends at the waist to look you over. “Such fire. Something on your mind, my dear?”

You don’t answer. You didn’t feel like talking about your day, and you weren’t completely sure he wouldn’t mock you for the things that upset you. After all, you had only moved into this hotel last week and hadn’t spoken with him much since then.

There’s a surprising brief silence from the radio demon before he speaks. “Very well. Come along.”

You look up, startled. “Where?”

“Good things come to those who wait. Up you get.” Alastor pulls you up with ease before you have a second to process his words. He’s already leading you to the couch. “Sit,” he orders, before moving to a piano you had figured was for decoration until now.

You sit obediently, mostly out of curiosity than anything. You watch as the radio demon takes a seat and begins playing a gentle jazz melody. The music is soft, soothing, and you find your eyes closing before you have a chance to ask what he’s doing.

Alastor’s fingers dance expertly on the keys as you fall into peaceful sleep. His watchful eyes never leave you despite ceasing the music when he was sure you were soundly asleep for the night.

After all, he had to look after his own, didn’t he?

[moonkhao]

hi.

[citizenerased77]

[rubberbandballqueen]

so anxious abt work today that my brain is telling me to show up Now..... 90 minutes early............. inner chilchuck where are you...... save me....... save me inner chilchuck...............

[harrysfolklore]

lando norris being down bad for his girlfriend: a compilation

summary: lando norris can’t help but talk about his girlfriend whenever he cans, fans make compilation videos about it

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Lando Norris could be described as someone who's not scared of saying whatever crossed his mind.

And that's why he never, ever, missed the opportunity to talk about his girlfriend whenever he had the chance.

He mentioned her during interviews, press conferences, social media post and even fan interactions. To the point where fans started making compilation videos with all the moments he publicly obsessed over his girlfriend.

The most popular one gathered millions of views on YouTube, showing multiple occasions Lando couldn't help but be down bad for her.

The video started with a clip from Q&A with fans, someone asked him about his favorite way to relax after a race. Without missing a beat, Lando replied, "Cuddling up with my girlfriend, of course. Nothing beats that."

"You're really whipped man, It's embarrassing," Oscar, his teammate, teased beside him, making the audience laugh.

"It's not, really." Lando shrugged proudly.

The next clip was taken from McLaren's Tiktok account, their content creator tried to do the "Can you watch my ___ for a second" prank on Lando.

"Oh my girlfriend already did this prank to me," Lando said, laughing at the camera, "Baby, If you're watching this, I miss you. Your pranks are way better than McLaren's"

The video moved to show Lando during a post-qualifying interview, his suit hanging by his waist and his fireproofs showing, when asked about his strategy for the race, he cheekily replied, "Well, first I'm going to call my girlfriend for some good luck wishes. Then, I'll focus on getting to the front."

"Zak Brown should hire your girlfriend as your strategist then," the interviewer joked.

"That would be great but I don't think we would be getting any job done. You know what they say about mixing business with pleasure."

The next clip showed Lando with his friend and fellow driver Max Fewtrell, playing a trivia game about how well did they knew each other. Max had to answer what was Lando's worst habit.

"I'm going to say leaving dirty plates around the house," he said, showing his board, "You do mate, admit it."

"My girlfriend would agree on that," he admitted, "She's always complaining about it."

"I don't know how she's still living with you."

"Because she loves me, and I would die if she leaves me."

On the same note, a video of Oscar teasing Lando followed right after.

"Who's most likely to snore?" Lando read the question, and Oscar quickly put ut the cutout with Lando's face, "How are you so sure? You didn't even hesitate."

"Mate, I've heard you, plus your girlfriend literally complained about not being able to sleep properly last night because you kept snoring."

"I did keep her up last night, but it wasn't just because of the snoring," Lando said, a cheeky grin on his face.

"Put the not safe for work disclaimer at the beginning of this video please."

The next segment was from Lando's own Youtube channel, he was doing a little vlog in Miami before the race weekend.

"Hi everyone," he said, filming himself in the mirror with his camera, "Today I'm back with another LandoLog, I'm going to be filming some behind the scenes of this Miami weekend, so without further ado, let's go," he moved the camera around, focusing on his girlfriend who was putting some mascara on her eyelashes, "Here's my beautiful girl, who takes ages to get ready. Say hi baby."

"Hi everyone," his girlfriend waved, laughing, "I'm not taking ages, I'm just making sure I look good."

"You always look good for me," Lando said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before turning the camera back to himself, "See, I told you she's the best."

The next clip showed Lando and Oscar together once again, this time they were giving a tour around the McLaren hub.

"This is my driver's room," Lando said as he opened the door, "It's cleaner than Oscar's, clearly, and looks like I have a bed."

Lando moved to put together the small bed that was behind the door, "This is an upgrade from last year, we didn't have this. I'll be definitely giving it some good use, to nap or with my girlfriend."

"Can we have a video where you're not a horndog please?" Oscar said, putting his hands on his hips.

"You're the horndog, I never said what we were going to use it for, we're just going to cuddle."

The video moved to show one of Lando's post race interviews after winning the Miami GP, he had been asked ho would be the most excited person about this win besides him.

"My girlfriend, definitely. I couldn't have done it without her," Lando said, his voice filled with emotion, "She's been my biggest supporter, my inspiration, and my motivation. This win is as much hers as it is mine."

The video then cut to a scene from Lando's gaming stream with Max Verstappen. The two drivers were deep into a game of Call of Duty, their banter and laughter filling the screen. Lando was focused, his eyes glued to the monitor as he coordinated with Max.

Just then, Lando's phone buzzed on the table beside him. He glanced at the screen and his expression softened, the comment section noticing, "Hey, mate, I need to go. My girl needs me for something," he said, setting down his controller.

"Lando! Are you serious right now?" Max said, his eyes still glued to the screen.

"I am, see ya," he turned to the camera, smiling not so apologetically "Sorry, guys, duty calls. See you next time."

The last scene was a snippet from an interview, Lando had been asked what he saw in his future.

He paused, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Honestly? I see a lot of racing, hopefully some championships," he laughed, "but most importantly, I see her. I can't imagine my life without her."

The screen faded to black, showing a text that read: Get you a man who is as down for you as Lando Norris is for his girlfriend.

[moonlight-prose]

THE GRAVE OF LUST

a/n: this is a very random idea i had of logan not necessarily being able to go at it as he used to. which like yes i love the thought of getting my back snapped by a more energetic logan. this version of him has my heart in ways i'll never be able to explain. it's short but enjoy! divider by the lovely @saradika-graphics.

summary: when his body doesn't work as it used to and the weary bones that poison his soul begin to ache, you take the lead in a dance you know well.

OR giving old man logan sloppy head that he'll think about in the grave and after.

word count: 2k

pairing: old man!logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, weary old man logan, domestic vibes, oral (m receiving), spit kink, cumplay, dirty talk, he may be older but he's filthier, unedited + not betad but we live and die by the fucking pen.

He doesn't touch you quickly anymore. His hands don't shove clothes off your curves and grasp your flesh with a growl of impatience. No, he no longer holds the stamina of a younger him who could spend hours between your thighs. His bones are weary, old phantom wounds ache where they shouldn't, and he feels himself step closer to his grave with each day that passes.

His hands move at a steady pace, tugging the fabric of your nightgown up inch by inch. Sleep lingers at the edge of his mind. The knowledge that he'll have to get up early with the sun still hidden from the sky. Yet you'll be here asleep—dreaming of his calloused palms on your soft skin. How he burned himself into your ribs with a kiss.

"C'mere," he mumbled, eyes narrowed and lips parted with a deep withered breath. "Let me touch you."

Denial would be a false tale on your tongue. Depriving yourself of him wasn't an option anymore. When times like this were found few and far between and his touch became a lingering memory in the back of your mind.

You couldn't remember the last time you tasted him. The last time he sunk into your wet heat with a solid groan—the muscles of his back screaming as he held his body above yours.

Age was cruel to a man who used to be so virile. He could recall the hours he took to worship your body—mold you beneath the warmth of his palms. But doing that more often wasn't something he was capable of. He still longed for you. The sounds you made, the way your face twisted in pleasure as you came on his cock, fingers, face. He craved it some nights. He felt it eat him alive.

Tonight was no different.

"How?" you breathed, eyes wide and pleading.

You were so fucking sweet he didn't even have to convince you of this. So ready to let him bring you to that peak of bliss. He could smell the heady scent of your pussy—the way it called to him with shouts of need. And if he was a younger man...he'd have you pinned beneath him. He'd hammer his hips into yours until bruises formed beneath the skin—down into the very muscles of your legs.

His graying hair and weathered face did nothing to stop the lust that poured into your face. Your eyes still drooped, mouth open and chest heaving. And Logan was a fortunate fucking man that you were still here.

So unlike his younger self, he let you take the lead.

"Can I touch you?" you asked so nicely. He groaned at the sound of it, jutting his chin down in a nod as you grasped the button of his jeans.

Any other night you'd let him take you. Give into his languid touches until you came wherever he wanted you to come. This was a rarity the longer you spent bound together by the strings of fate.

Logan fucking loved it. He ached for it on days spent away from you—time he'd never get back. But when he'd find his way home and curl his body around yours, he found that sleep was a better option. You'd heartily agree. If it wasn't for the pounding ache between your thighs each time you caught his eye. Each chance you got to see the thick arms and sun kissed skin that lay beneath his white button downs.

"Been dreamin' about this." His voice echoed with a rasp you'd grown to love. One that screamed exhaustion, yet licked a line of heat up your spine. "Such pretty fuckin' lips."

His thumb dug into the curve of your bottom lip, pulling at it until your mouth popped open. Allowing his finger to press against your tongue—saliva building at the thought of getting him in your mouth. Of him using your throat to get himself off.

You didn't even care if you finished. You just wanted to feel him.

"You're my good girl right?" A moan spilled past your spread lips, eyes fluttering when his pants slipped down and cock came free. "Yeah you are."

"Logan," you sighed. He dragged your spit across your cheek; thumb and forefinger gripped your chin to tilt your head close enough to kiss him. Only to hold you there.

"Keep 'em open baby."

The feel of his length throbbing so close to your chest—precum dotting the tip—drove you mad. You wanted him closer. Wanted to feel the bruising ache at the back of your throat as he pushed too far. Your fingers wrapped around him gently, causing him to hiss at your cold touch. The reminder to take it slow, savor him, rang in your ears. Yet the way he looked at you with a feral hunger you felt in your heart shoved those thoughts to the side.

Within his life there's only been a handful of moments he wished he could go back to. Nearly all of them were with you on nights such as this. When the moon hung low in the sky and dawn felt eons away. If he was lucky he wouldn't have to wake up tomorrow, he'd get to wake up naked by your side and bury himself in your pretty cunt.

Logan was rarely lucky.

His spit landed on your tongue, splattering against the corner of your mouth. He led your mouth down with a firm grip until you hovered directly over his cock. The dark red at the tip made you clench around nothing—the ache spreading to the base of your stomach. Screaming for you to take it. Put your mouth on him and make him finish down your throat.

"There we go," he murmured, watching his spit and yours fall from your mouth—landing directly on his twitching cock. "Pretty ain't it."

"Yeah," you gasped, nails digging into the v of his hips. "Can I taste you? Please."

The deep echo of his laugh shot through your body like a bullet. You could feel it burrow deep within, spreading across each nerve ending and vein. Being so close to what you wanted felt like torture, but with Logan you knew it would be worth it in the end. He never left you wanting.

"'Course honey." His hand cupped the back of your neck, leading you with a soft touch. "It's yours."

Yours. Yours. Yours.

With a moan, you wrapped your lips around the head of him—tongue sliding through the slit. A ragged groan tore from his chest, his eyes boring a hole into the side of your face. The knowledge that he was so far gone for you left a pleasant thrill of warmth to grow in your stomach. This strong, capable man would bend at his knees simply to see you smile.

He was your devotee and you'd become his goddess.

"Fuckin' perfect." His words were a spit of need, fingers digging down into your skin with each flick of your tongue.

You merely held him there. In your mouth with spit coating the hand wrapped around the base of him. His taste flooded your mouth, each drop a nectar you would never have enough of. And he let you have your fill. He lay still on the bed, his breaths coupled with moans as you took your time.

Slipping him a bit deeper, you felt his thighs shift beneath you—a shuddered sigh echoing the small bedroom. You'd barely begun and yet he felt the high of dizziness begin to pull at his mind. Effectively killing whatever sleep called out to him.

"Take a little more for me." He sounded gone. Your lips spread into a smile, bobbing your head and swallowing a bit more with each small thrust. "Fuck yeah. Just like that."

He pushed at the back of your throat, your jaw strained under the width of him. Tears spilled from the corner of your eyes, slipping down your cheeks. And he caught them with his thumb, mixing the salt with what spit of his still remained along your skin. Tilting your head slightly, you felt him slip down your throat—your nose finding the graying curls at his base.

The loud growl that ripped through his body was all the reward you needed. He was on the fucking edge. Barely hanging on by the skin of his teeth. And he knew you could tell. His thighs jolted—stomach tensing—and when your hand slipped down to tug at his balls, thumb finding the spot between, he lost it.

Snarling your name, he thrust his hips up into your mouth and felt you choke on him. Your throat constricted perfectly with each cant of his hips down into you. He gave you the opportunity to push him off—get some air down your lungs. You let him keep going—eyes fixed on the way his face screwed up in pleasure. His teeth bared and throat extended.

Another push of your thumb sent him flying over the edge with a shout. The salty tang of him filled your mouth, spilling down your throat with rope after rope of cum. And you swallowed it all despite the searing burn that spread along your esophagus. You took every fucking drop of him and allowed some to remain on your tongue.

To prove that you could take whatever he wanted to give.

"I fuckin' love you," he breathed, cupping your jaw and grinning when you stuck out your tongue—a pool of his spend dripping down your chin.

His fingers scooped it out of your mouth before you could swallow. "Up." He slapped your ass, moving you up and into his lap. "Your turn."

"I’m okay."

The glare he gave you burned its way to your lungs. "Good girls get rewarded." His fingers dipped down beneath your nightgown—pleased to find you bare—and spread his cum along the lips of your pussy. "Don't you want your reward bub?"

"Yes," you whimpered, gripping at his hair. "I do."

"Then take it."

Refusing was no longer an option when the bliss you'd been searching for finally flared to life in your body. His fingers plunged into you, curling and seeking the spot he always found with ease. And with a sharp gasp—your hand yanking at his hair—he knew he'd found it. He smiled at the sight of you. Head back and eyes shut as you fucked yourself on his hand.

"Tell me," he said. Gripping your chin, his lips met yours in a messy kiss of teeth and tongues. He could taste himself in your mouth. His chest rumbled with a soft sigh.

"I love you." The base of his hand ground into your clit, fingers pounding up quicker—faster. And your words pitched high with each thrust.

"I know you do." He kissed your throat, the heat of your body rubbing against his made his cock twitch in interest again. "Love you too baby."

"Fuck!" The coil in your stomach began to unravel rapidly, your body shattering into pieces you'd never find again. And he clutched you tightly to his chest. He watched in rapture at the sight of you shaking, hips bucking against his hand in quick thrusts. "Logan."

Pride bloomed in his chest. "You're perfect."

You collapsed onto his bare chest, spent and exhausted. The final tendrils of pleasure began to ebb out of your body, suddenly replaced by the comfort of him there. You pressed your lips to the center of his chest, teeth dragging along the scarred skin. And he basked in your attention—his hand trailing down your spine to knead the flesh of your ass.

"We should do that more often," you teased, lips finding his in a soft kiss.

He huffed, his eyes falling shut. "I'm too old for that."

"Believe it or not, but you're sexier older."

"Yeah?" He stirred against your stomach. "You like me old and gray?"

"Absolutely."

He smirked, pushing you up his body with slow movements. "Prove it."

[entitled-fangirl]

A sigil of mine.

Summary: the reader is taken from Winterfell while Cregan is at the Wall. He's a vengeful man.

Warning: kidnapping, dread, guilt, blood, scars, branding, talks of torture, our boy Cregan embodying Joel Miller when Ellie gets taken in the Last of Us

This one is dark

A/n: based on an ask! Also, fuck the Lannisters

I'll proofread later🫡

Masterlist

..............................................

"Lord Stark! An urgent letter has arrived from Winterfell!" A brother of the Wall yelled over the sound of the harsh wind that roared through the icy halls.

Cregan turned his entire body to him, a sudden pain in his stomach. What could be so urgent?

Cregan nearly rips the letter from the man's hand as he nears. The letter is stained with a dark red in places and he feels himself choke a little.

Lord Stark, Winterfell is under attack. By the time you read this, I will be long gone. I tried to protect the Lady as best as I could.  It was an honor to serve under House Stark and see you become a man. Please forgive me. Maester Tinedel

Cregan's hands shook violently as his eyes roamed over the paper another time. Then once more. His jaw set harshly as he looked up to the man that had brought such devastating news. "When did this arrive?" He growled lowly.

"Just this morning. Is it dated by any chance, my Lord?"

Cregan flipped the page and surely enough, the old maester had been wise enough to do so.

The air in his lungs escaped, creating a cloud in the cold air.

"Three weeks now."

The man stared in confusion at Cregan's sudden distress. "Is everything alright?"

Cregan crumpled the paper in his fist. "Ready my horse."

The brother of the Wall shook his head, "My lord, it is the bulk of winter. You can't possibly leave in such conditions. And you are not properly pack-"

"Ready. My. Horse. I leave within the hour."

The Warden of the North stormed away, a heaviness in his step from the sudden weight on his shoulders.

…

Cregan had always thought the travel to the Wall and back took too long on a good day.

Now, he was a mere bundle of nerves trying to tie what he could to his horse.

It would take too long. Whatever happened had happened and he wasn't there to save them.

To save her. 

He knew the guilt would eat his alive no matter how long it took him to get back. 

Surely another letter would arrive soon if things had turned for the better, but he wouldn't wait for that letter to show. 

The odds of one never arriving were too high.

"Are you certain of this, Lord Stark?"

He turned to the stable master with the hint of unshed tears in his eyes. "I'm not sure of anything. But I must return home."

The stable master nodded in acceptance, "And you're really not going to take men with you?"

Cregan huffed in frustration. "I cannot take men from the Wall. Their war is here. I cannot ask them to fight my own war as well."

"My lord, you're fighting both wars. Surely you can allow for some assistance."

Cregan hoisted himself up onto his horse. "I cannot promise when I'll return. But, should everything be righted, I will write back."

"If I may?"

"Yes?"

The man heaved a long sigh as placed his hands on his hips. "I wouldn't wish this feeling on my worst enemy, my lord. May the gods be with you on your journey and at your arrival."

Cregan bits the inside of his cheek. "Thank you."

With that, Cregan clicks at his horse, and the long journey began.

…

As expected, the journey was grueling. The cold was killing him from the outside in, but the constant need to stop and warm up was killing him from the inside out.

He couldn't even eat without thinking of the blood that stained the letter.

He couldn't sleep without thinking of the screams of his wife as another man's hands laid on her.

Even in the best case, the horror was too much to bare.

Despite his initial crumpling of the letter, Cregan kept it stashed away in his few belongings, smoothing it out and reading it every night before sleep consumed him. 

Just to crumple it again.

…

Despite the journey taking a usual two to three weeks when the weather was obedient, Cregan made it back to Winterfell in a week and half.

The consistent shiver to his bones only spurred him faster. 

He had plenty of time to consider his plan, should he truly be in need of one.

And now was the time to use it. 

…

Winterfell laid still. 

Cregan had expected fire and battle. A sound of swords clashing and men roaring.

Quietness was worse.

He had managed to get through the bulk of people with his hood up and his usual dire wolf cloak long abandoned. 

For in this moment, he was no Stark. 

He was a vengeful man.

He managed to sneak into the walls of the very place he should have been highly welcomed in.

For such a burly man, he was deathly silent. His boots made no sound on the stone floors, and his breath was so low that it may be thought that he didn't breathe at all.

He stood outside of his own chamber that he shared with his wife. He reached up and his hand faltered against the wood of the door. He couldn't dare open it.

"Oh, Lord Stark! Oh, thank the gods!" A female voice shrieked in relief.

Cregan flinched at the sound, turning on his heel to see the woman. His wife's handmaiden. He relaxed a bit.

"Oh. Sorry, milord. I didn't mean to frighten you. It's just I didn't know when you would return. Or if you'd return at all. And I-"

"Where is she?" He quietly interrupted.

The handmaiden stiffened and her face fell. "I… I dunno."

"She's not here?" He dared to ask.

She wrung her hands nervously. "You don't… you don't know?"

He tried to hold back his frustration. "Are they still here?"

She shook her head. "Left not long after the attack. Left just a few of us to pick up the pieces."

"And my wife? What happened to her?"

She let the silence set. 

He sighed in frustration and his hand moved to the chamber door.

"I wouldn't, milord," she warned.

He threw her a glare and dare to step in.

He should have listened.

The room laid in disarray. The furs from the bed were thrown on the floor. The furniture was moved, an obvious conflict had occurred. But that's not what Cregan's eyes moved to.

It was the scraps of clothing that were strewn across the room in various places. Some bloody.

His jaw went slack and he knelt down and picked up a strip of the cloth. Stark blue. 

His thumb rubbed at the fabric. He knew it well. His favorite dress on her. 

"They came in the early morning." The handmaiden spoke from the doorway. "Lady Stark had just gotten dressed for the day. I was… I was braiding her hair at the vanity when…"

"When..?" Cregan questioned. 

"It happened so suddenly. The screams."

He stood. "Who did it?"

"House Lannister."

Cregan took a deep breath. "Is she dead?"

"Milord-"

"-Was she slain by a Lannister?"

"No. Not exactly."

"What does that mean?"

"They took her. She could be dead now, I dunno. But they took her alive."

He felt a bit of relief move down his spine. "When you last saw her, she indeed was drawing breath?"

"Yes."

"Then that's enough for me. And Maester Tinedel?"

She tilted her head back and forth. "He lives. But barely."

He kept the fabric in his hand. "Take me to him."

…

"My Lord!"

"Please, don't get up on my account." Cregan stood at the elder man's bedside. "You're still healing."

The maester relaxed and leaned back against the headboard. "It takes more than a blade to change my loyalty, dear Cregan."

"You've been with me since the day I was born, old man," he teased. "And still you defend me when I am not there."

"There has been no greater honor."

Cregan pulled a chair to his bedside, sitting down. "Tell me what you remember."

"It's not a pleasant story for you, my lord. But very well." He leaned back in thought. "I was in my chamber. It was morning. I heard sounds from the corridor and I dared to go venture out. I defended as much as I could, but an old man is no match to young men with longswords. They took the lady from her room. As far as I know, they still have her-"

"-Do you know where they are now?"

"I'd assume they moved back to Casterly Rock. I have reason to believe that you have been betrayed by one of your bannermen, my lord. How else would they have gotten through the North so quietly?"

Cregan considered the man's words, running a shaky hand over his growing beard. "Who?"

The maester grunted as he sat up further. "I could hardly guess, my lord.

"Whoever it is, I'll murder him where he stands."

…

Gathering men together quickly was not a difficult task for Cregan.

Many men had skin in the game of thrones, and equally so, most were loyal unto death for their lord.

While most banner men would have answered a call to war, there wasn't enough time to gather an army while he was there, leaving the job to one of his closest bannerman, the Lord of House Bolton.

His mind laid in constant worry. 

…

In time, the men made it to Lord Reed, the last of the Northern Lords before being out of the North entirely. 

"'Tis truly a shame of what happened to the castle," Lord Reed said as he ushered Cregan further into Greywater Watch. "Any ideas of who might have done such an act?"

He shook his head, eyeing Lord Glover next to him. "No. No, we haven't. Hence why I don't have an army behind me."

"Well, that's understandable. Whoever did such a crime should be punished by all the gods alike, sneaking such an ambush like that."

Cregan nodded, "Yes, yes, they should. I thank you for housing us on such short notice."

Reed forced a smile. "Of course, Lord Stark." He continued moving down the hall. "The North would never sit by while a Lord's wife was taken from him."

Cregan's foot faltered. He paused completely. His voice was low. "I never said my wife was taken."

Lord Reed froze in pure fear at his mistake.

And he was shoved against the wall with Cregan's wolfish growl in his face. "Where is she?"

Reed gasped and fought against the man, but was no match. "I… I don't know what you mean, my lord… p… please.."

Cregan pulled him away by the throat to hit his head against the stone wall again, repeating himself. "WHERE IS SHE?"

Reed sputtered and groaned at the pain. "I… They didn't tell me… I swear…. I swear that to you."

"Your word means nothing to me." Cregan looked over his shoulder to Glover. "Write back to Winterfell. Tell them Lord Reed is dead."

"…My Lord?" Glover faltered.

"Tell them."

"Aye, my lord."

Reed shook violently in Cregan's grip. "I swear. I swear! I don't know! Please!"

Cregan leaned into the man's face. "You're gonna tell me what you do know. Aren't you?"

…

"Fucking Lannisters!" Cregan's voice roared through the Watch. "Get Glover. We're leaving now."

"My lord?" One of the men asked.

"Do what I said."

"Aye."

"May house Reed learn from its mistake."

…

Little did Cregan know yet, Loreon Lannister's brigade had been stopped by the Blackwoods, just shy of Lannister territory. 

The young Lord Benjicot Blackwood had rode out to meet them when word was sent of a brigade sneaking through his land. 

He raged at the sight of a terrified woman clad in a Stark blue dress. He vowed that the Lannisters would not see to their land should they refuse to surrender the woman to him.

Hence the small battle that had commenced.

But that was two weeks ago. 

Cregan looked over the land, the blood still staining the grass. "Think they made it?"

Glover hummed. "Lord Benjicot is a formidable enemy, I've heard. Wouldn't want to anger that boy in the slightest."

"Thank fuck!" A voice yelled over the field.

Lord Benjicot rode his horse out to the group in a fast trot. He spoke when he got closer "Knew you'd be quick but I figured it would be another few weeks."

"Don't underestimate angry northern men," Glover grimaced.

"Or Blackwoods, it seems," Cregan chimed in, looking over the field. "I believe I'm indebted to you in some capacity."

"Don't speak too soon, Lord Stark," Benjicot smiled. "You haven't asked how we faired."

Cregan's brows furrowed. "And how did you fair?"

Benjicot's smile grew. 

"We have her."

Cregan reached a hand out to steady himself on his horse from the sheer relief that swept through his body. "Gods…"

"Fucking bastards should have journeyed by sea if they were smart. Should've known that any ally of the Queen is an ally of mine."

"You have her then? In Raventree Hall?" Glover asked what they were all thinking.

"I do."

Cregan voice recovered. "Take me to her. Please."

…

"My lady?" One of the Blackwood handmaidens spoke up.

Y/n looked up at the woman. 

The faint hints of scratches and bruises were still on the lady's skin, but she had been given time to heal due to the Blackwoods' bravery. But regardless, the tremor in her hands remained. 

"I've been sent to inform you of a visitor that will soon be arriving."

Her heart leaped from her chest. She found herself moving more to the window and peering out. 

Cregan.

The man and his horse moved as one. It had always impressed her. 

Her sluggish behavior left the second he came into view. 

Not caring for her shoes, her cloak, anything, she ran past the handmaiden quicker than her feet could move. 

Tripping and stumbling along the way, ignoring the pain, she finally made it to the large doors of Raventree and bolted out of them.

Cregan had just pulled his horse to a stop when he caught sight of her.

He couldn't remember actually getting down from his horse he had gotten to her so quickly.

His strong arms held her to him in a vice grip, his hands indecisive of where to stay- her waist, her back, her hair, the constant need to feel her wholly gripped him.

Equally so, her arms wrapped around his neck firmly, as if to make sure he was real. 

"Fuck. Don't ever do this again," he sighed as he placed his chin on the top of her head. 

She sobbed lightly against his chest and her hands gripped his cloak so tightly her knuckles turned white. 

"Are you hurt?" He asked in worry. 

She hiccuped through tears. 

Cregan pulled her away, cupping her cheeks so he could study her. "Speak to me, pretty girl. Where are you hurt?"

She hiccuped again. "I… I'm fine."

"Where did they touch you?"

"Cregan…"

"Where?"

Benjicot had caught up at that point. "I wouldn't say they were delicate with her, Lord Stark. Most of it is faded, but the ones on her arms are rather nasty."

Cregan never looked away from her, keeping her eye contact. He tilted his head down, silently asking to gaze at her arms.

He hesitantly pulled her sleeves up and gawked slightly. 

Green bruises still remained at her wrists, no doubt from dragging her along. He tried to ignore the faint scabs from the scrapes that laid in various spots. 

"They did a number on you, didn't they?"

She looked at him fearfully, beyond nervous for his reaction to all of this. 

Benjicot spoke up again. "You've no idea." He placed a steady hand on the woman's back, ignoring Cregan's protective glare as he did so. "You're safe here. Why don't you show him?"

"Show me what?"

She turned to look over her shoulder at Benjicot, "Must I?"

Cregan was growing frustrated. If there was one thing he hated, it was no knowing things. "Show me."

She hesitantly nodded, and Benjicot stepped up to her, untying her bodice from the back. Once he did so, he spun her around to have her back face Cregan. Then he gently pulled down her sleeve until her right shoulder blade was exposed. 

A Lannister sigil was burned into the skin. Ugly scarring around the marred flesh. 

Her head was hung in shame as she stood there, avoiding eye contact with everyone. 

Cregan's hand came up to brush the skin achingly slow. He couldn't find words. 

Benjicot broke the silence. "Amidst this, there is good news."

"I guarantee there isn't," Cregan growled back quickly.

"I have Loreon Lannister under my care as well."

Cregan's head snapped to him. "What?"

"The man is in my dungeons, Lord Stark."

Cregan's hand moved up to Y/n's hair, brushing it aside to fully view what was exposed of her back. 

But his eyes couldn't move from the brand.

"Inside, you say? Still breathing?"

Benjicot let out an amused chuckle. "I refused to take that privilege from you."

Lord Stark's hand brushed her shoulder again. "I fear I owe the Blackwoods more than I own."

…

Not long later, Cregan stepped into her room. 

She turned her head towards him.

Cregan was covered in blood.

She stood suddenly. "Are you harmed?"

His brows furrowed, looking down at himself, as if forgetting all he had done. "Oh. None of it is mine."

"You killed him?"

Cregan sighed and shut the door. "We'll not discuss this now."

"Cregan-"

"-No. Don't ask again."

Her face fell a bit. She moved to the window and sat again. 

He watched her. "Forgive me. There's still rage in my heart."

"Still? Is it because of me?"

He faltered. "No. No, of course not." He rubbed his chin. "You did nothing wrong."

"If I had journeyed to the Wall with you that day, would you have been as angry if Winterfell was attacked?"

He paused as considered her question. "You know the answer."

She hummed and looked out of the window.

He followed her gaze. "Forgive me for taking so long."

"I watched out this window."

"I know you did."

"What if Benjicot hadn't have found me?"

He sat down next to her. "He did though."

"But what if he hadn't?"

Cregan dared to reach out and pull her hair aside, tugging her sleeve down to see the brand again. 

She finally turned to look at him with teary eyes. 

"I'd rather not think about those things," Cregan answered softly.

"Will you wash yourself, please?"

He paused, remembering the blood all over him. "Sorry, sweet girl. I didn't realize that would bother you so much. I will, I promise."

She looked back to the window. "Will we go home soon?"

Cregan stood to go to the washbowl across the room. "We will in time."

"What's stopping us, Cregan?"

He didn't have the heart to actually say that it was her. "Be patient, my girl, alright?"

…

Benjicot walked with Cregan down the corridor. "I apologize that I did not manage to capture Lord Jason. That will haunt me."

Cregan shook his head, "You've done much for the North. We'll not forget this act of kindness."

Benji grinned, "The North remembers."

"Indeed."

"Tell me something, my lord?"

Cregan nodded.

"What did you do in those dungeons?"

Cregan sighed, crossing his arms over his  chest. "I wouldn't want you to think differently of me, old friend."

Benjicot shook his head, "Nothing could do so, Cregan. You've seen me rather bloody. It's only fair."

He paused and considered his words, carefully phrasing himself. "A part of me hopes that his son doesn't find out what I've done to his father. It was almost too much to bare."

"What do you mean?"

Cregan pulled his dagger from his belt, running a hand over the blade. "I'll have to sharpen this later, if you understand what I'm saying."

Benjicot nodded. "I believe I do. But more context might be beneficial."

Cregan leaned forward and spoke lowly. "The dead man wears a sigil of mine in return."

The Blackwood's eyes looked down to the dagger and back to Cregan. "I see."

"If there truly is life after death, my friend, I hope he lives the next with my reminder."

"Surely, he would. I'd say you were merciful in ending him regardless."

…

Cregan rubbed her thigh absentmindedly as the maester inspected the brand. 

"It's healing well, but as you can imagine, it will leave behind a nasty scar."

Cregan clenched his jaw at the thought of his own wife living with a lion burned onto her. "No risk of a fever?"

He shook his head. "A clean burn like this rarely risks such a thing."

"Well, the north thanks you for your work."

The maester excused himself.

Since finding her again, Cregan had a difficulty understanding what she was going through. She was bottling everything up, he could tell. 

"Sweet girl?" He asked gently, continuing to rub at her leg.

"Is it ugly?" She responded quietly, her eyes fixed on the floor.

Cregan wasn't sure what to say to that. "It looks painful. Is it?"

She hummed, eyes still anchored. "It didn't hurt as much as the laughs."

"They laughed? While they did this to you?"

She nodded. 

Her hand moved up to pull her sleeve back up, but Cregan was quick to stop her, placing his hand over hers. 

She looked up questioningly.

"You're as gorgeous as the day I met you." His other hand moved hair behind her ear. "And as beautiful as the day I married you. As well as when I left for the Wall this winter." He leaned forward and kissed her cheek gently. "You're just changed is all."

"But the-"

"-Yes. Yes, it pains me to see it. But not because of what it is, but because you were hurt and I did not defend you as I should have."

Silence fell over them until she spoke up.

"Tell me I'm yours."

Cregan froze. "What?"

"I need to hear it. To really know."

"Well, you are. You know that."

"Please, Cregan."

Cregan stood from the bed, rounding it until he was behind her. He reached out and brushed the brand again, trying to ignore the shiver that went down her spine. "You're mine."

The words relaxed her, her shoulders moving down.

Cregan placed his hands on her shoulders, gently massaging them. "You belong to the Warden of the North." He grinned. "A vile and vicious beast intent on killing anything that nears it. Almost anything."

She smiled lightly, the first one in weeks. "And what is that one thing that the wolf likes?"

"A pretty she-wolf that brings down his defense."

One of his hands moved to the back of her neck and she all but melted, her head leaning back now. 

He continued this for a while, letting the silence sit, but he soon leaned down and placed a gentle kiss to the marred skin of her shoulder. 

"You're mine." He kissed her shoulder. "And I don't need a brand to prove so." He kissed behind her ear. "You know who you belong to, don't you?"

"…you, Cregan."

"Hmm?" He feigned. 

"You."

He smirked and nipped at her ear. "And who is that? Tell me."

She turned as much as her injuries could allow. Her voice softened as his eyes gazed into hers. "Cregan Stark. I belong to Cregan Stark."

"And I do to you, pretty girl."

He closed the distance, placing the softest kiss he'd ever managed onto her lips.

When they pulled away from one another, she spoke. "Do we get to return soon?"

He nodded, twirling her hair between his fingers. "Soon. I'm only waiting for Lord Bolton to arrive with the men."

"Th… what?"

He puffed out his chest in pride. "I don't do well with spoiled southerners. Bolton is riding an army to the border of Lannister territory, with Benjicot's permission, of course."

"An army? You can't start a war over me."

"I didn't start anything, my love." He kissed her again. "I only finish it."

.........................................................

Taglist: @strengthandstay, @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver, @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom, @dozcan123, @wangjiangelangel, @kamitargaryen, @aegonswife, @lv7867, @helpmedecideaname

[flowersforbucky]

moth to a flame

bucky barnes x reader / winter soldier x reader

"I know you. even when I know nothing else, even when I don't know myself, I know you."

word count: 4.9k

summary: bucky is triggered into the winter soldier during a mission and then goes MIA, until he seeks you out in the middle of the night.

warnings/tags: SMUT, canon divergence (bucky hasn't been successfully deprogrammed in this), kind of dub-con, language, some violence, reader is afab, no use of y/n, friends with benefits situation, angst with a happy ending, 18+ only

“You've reached Bucky. I can't answer the phone right now but leave me a mess–”

You hang up before the voicemail recording finishes. You already knew he wasn't going to answer, just as he hasn't answered any of the other thirty-something times you've dialed his number over the course of the last few days. Or read any of the two dozen text messages.

The messages had stopped delivering and the calls had started going straight to voicemail almost two days ago at this point. And yet you still got your hopes up every time you checked your phone, only to be met with gut-wrenching, nauseating disappointment.

It had now been three days of this - not to mention picking your cuticles until they bleed, flipping back and forth between every news station on your TV in hopes (and fear) of seeing his name, a few collective hours of sleep each night, and too much Red Bull.

Just when you were thinking about trying to kick your caffeine addiction, too.

Three days of feeling completely and utterly helpless.

You place the phone back down on your coffee table, staring down at the thick, white cast encasing your left leg from your foot to just under your knee.

Useless.

You knew you were doing what you physically could - the spread of laptops and tablets on the table in front of you continuously supplying data from facial recognition programs across the United States.

Realistically, you knew he could be on the other side of the world by now, but that didn't stop you from checking. It was the only thing that you felt you had any control over right now.

But it wasn't enough. Not when Steve, Sam, Natasha, Sharon, and every other currently able-bodied team member are out scouring every safehouse and known former HYDRA base in the tri-state area while you're holed up in your apartment with a fractured fibula and a brain that won't let you stop reliving the moments before he went missing.

“This is as straightforward as it gets,” Steve re-assures you both for what felt like the dozenth time that day. “You'll be in and out in no time.”

“So straight-forward that you're going to hang back here while we do all the dirty work?” You joke as you make the final adjustments to your parachute.

“We've been monitoring this base for months,” he reminds you. “This place is as abandoned as they come. Get in, get the intel from the database, and get back to the jet.”

“And then blow the place to smithereens,” Bucky adds with a devious grin.

“And then blow the place to smithereens,” Steve agrees.

If only things had been as simple as he had expected.

You had a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach from the moment that you and Bucky landed on the ground outside of the HYDRA base. You told yourself that you were being irrational - but you couldn't shake the looming feeling that something was going to go wrong.

“See?” Bucky says after removing the USB drive from the computer. He sticks the device in the breast pocket of his tactical vest before edging you towards the desk. “Easy-peasy. You've been worried for nothing.”

“I have not been worried,” you deny, leaning against the edge of the desk. “This place is just old, and smelly, and creepy.”

Bucky takes a step closer to you so that there's no space left between you. He places his hands on the desk on either side of you, enclosing you.

“You think that I can't tell when you're nervous?” He says quietly, studying your face. You can smell a lingering hint of cool mint from his mouthwash. “That I haven't spent enough time learning your body to read you like an open book?”

Your thighs clench together and your nipples pebble at his words. You're almost embarrassed at how easily his voice, his scent, his closeness elicits a physical response from your body. Almost.

“What I think,” you murmur against his mouth. His hands come to grip your hips as he nudges your thighs open, standing between your legs. “Is you're crazy if you're thinking about trying to fuck me in an abandoned HYDRA warehouse.”

He exhales a dramatic sigh. “You can't blame me for trying.”

“I am relieved to know that you'd even want to do that here,” you say, hopping down from where you're perched on the desk. “I really think that shows you've processed your trauma–”

You're cut off by the room going completely dark. Every light, every computer, turns to black.

Bucky's flesh hand instinctively reaches to grab your wrist in the dark, tugging you to him.

“What the fuck,” he groans under his breath.

“We need to get out of–” you start to state the obvious but close your mouth when the computer that you and Bucky had retrieved the data from turns back on.

And then a computer to the right - and then across the room - and another to the right - and one to left - until every computer is on and showing the exact same screen. Bucky's hand grips yours so tightly that it borders on being painful.

Displayed on dozens of screens throughout the room is the face of a man. A man who you've never met, but recognize immediately.

“Zola,” Bucky whispers almost inaudibly.

“Sergeant Barnes,” Zola addresses him with a perverted smile. “Welcome home,” his voice pours from every computer speaker throughout the room and echoes off the walls.

“Steve?” You whisper urgently, clicking on the communication device hidden in your ear. “Steve, we've got a prob–”

“There's no use in that,” Zola interrupts you. “It's too late. They're almost here.”

The following sixty seconds were a jumbled blur that you were still trying to piece together in your mind.

You remember hearing the stream of words spoken in Russian.

Longing. Rusted. Seventeen.

You remember Bucky screaming at you to run, the sound of Steve's voice in your ear telling you that back-up was on the way and asking a dozen questions that you were too overwhelmed to respond to.

Daybreak. Furnace. Nine.

You remember begging Steve to hurry. You remember pleading with Bucky to come with you to try to get away; pleading with him to just look at you, just stay with you, help is coming -

Benign. Homecoming. One.

You remember the moment that Bucky went completely still as the room was infiltrated by HYDRA agents.

Freight car.

You knew that Bucky wasn't there anymore. You could sense it in his stance, in the way he wouldn't meet your eyes, in his silence.

Before you could say anything else to him, close to a dozen HYDRA agents came barreling towards you both. He charged through them, taking down one after the next with ease, until there were just a few left standing.

It was a side of Bucky you'd never seen. You thought that you had witnessed his strength, his agility, his determination, his ruthlessness working beside him in this field - but you then saw just how much he had been holding back.

He fled past the remaining few, out the door and down the hallway of the warehouse. The agents turned to follow him, forgetting about you - until you threw a knife directly into one's neck from behind.

Another agent shot at you, the blow hitting your bulletproof vest and sending you flying backwards onto hard cement.

Before you could catch your breath, there was a sharp cracking noise and a blinding pain radiating from your lower leg - but it was short lived.

The last thing you recall is the man's boot swinging towards your face.

You woke up some number of hours later, in a hospital bed with your temple throbbing and leg elevated in a cast.

“Hey,” a soft voice calls from your right. Natasha stands up from the singular chair in the room, both concern and relief evident across her features. “You're okay,” she begins to assure you. “You have a concussion and a fractured–”

“Where's Bucky?” You interrupt her, your voice scratchy. You clear your throat. “Is he okay? Did Steve find him? Did HYDRA get–”

“HYDRA didn't get him. Steve took care of the last of the agents after him,” she stops you from rambling. There's an immediate sense of relief wash over you.

“But we haven't found him yet,” she adds carefully. “Everyone is out searching for him now. You know we won't stop until–”

A gentle knock on your apartment door snaps you back to reality.

You freeze, your heart jumping to your throat. You stand as quickly as you can manage, grabbing your crutches propped up next to you on the couch.

“It's just me,” a feminine voice calls from the other side of the door. Your heart goes from your throat to your stomach. Not him.

“I'm sorry, I should have text you first,” Natasha continues. “But I brought you food. Street tacos from–”

You turn the deadbolt and unhook the chain lock before swinging the door open.

“You look–”

“Like hammered shit?” You finish for her, nodding your head towards the inside of the apartment as indication for her to come in.

“I was going to say exhausted,” she says, walking past you with a large paper sack of take-out food. Your stomach growls at the aroma - when was the last time you ate something more than a bowl of cereal or granola bar?

“Your favorite,” she tells you, placing the bag on the kitchen counter. “Extra salsa verde and lime wedges. Have you gotten any sleep recently?” Her eyes skim across the empty energy drink cans littered around the kitchen.

You maneuver yourself onto one of the barstools at the kitchen's small island, leaning your crutches on the edge of the counter.

“Yes,” you mumble. “For forty-five minutes from 2:30 to 3:15 today.”

She lets out a long groan, rolling her eyes at you.

“You're supposed to be healing from a concussion,” she reminds you, taking a seat for herself. “Which generally doesn't include sleep deprivation and excessive use of computer screens.” She stares in the direction of the array of laptops that overcrowd the limited space of your coffee table.

“Did you find anything in Connecticut? What about Sam, is he back from New Jersey?” You ask, ignoring her concerns as you unbox your food.

“Connecticut was a dead-end,” she sighs. “We're still waiting to hear back from Sam. There's a safehouse up in Vermont that Steve wants to head to tomorrow–”

“You don't think there's a chance of him letting me tag along for that, do you?” You tap the edge of your cast against the base of the island with your foot.

Her eyes soften as she looks at you. You already knew the answer.

“I know this is really hard for you,” she says delicately. “I may not know exactly what has been going on between you and Barnes these last few months, but it's obvious you care a lot for him. We all do. We are going to find him and bring him home,” she assures you.

You nod at her in agreement, not quite trusting your voice enough to speak.

Your eyes sting as you attempt to blink away the tears that threaten to spill over. You had yet to allow yourself to spend any time crying these last few days and you didn't wish to start now.

Her words remind you that no one knows exactly why you are taking Bucky's disappearance so harshly. You assume that your friends have their suspicions about your and Bucky's arrangement but the two of you had agreed to keep it between yourselves.

They didn't know it had started off being a weekly occurrence - late Sunday evenings, your apartment. Or how it had quickly escalated from once a week to twice, and then from two times a week to three - and instead of just your apartment, it would happen anywhere the two of you had a private (and sometimes public) moment - up against the wall of the communal showers at the compound's gym, in the back of the Quinjet after missions while everyone else would be sleeping on the flight back home, even during team meetings with his hand creeping between your thighs while you try to stay quiet enough to not draw any attention to yourselves.

They didn't know you were supposed to be friends with benefits but that at some point during the days and nights spent underneath one another, the line between friends and something more became blurry for you.

You had just been too chickenshit to tell him.

Natasha sits across from you as you inhale the Mexican food that she brought you. She doesn't say anything else, just keeps you company in a comfortable silence as you eat your first legitimate meal in days.

“Thank you,” you tell her as you're finishing your food. “I appreciate you. I've been going a little crazy here by myself,” you add meekly.

“Of course.” She stands back up. “I would stay longer, but I've got to prepare for Vermont. We're leaving early in the morning.”

“Be safe. All of you,” you remind her. “Let me know if you guys find anything. Just tell me if there's anything at all I can do. And please let me know when you hear from Sam–”

“You'll be the first to know when there's anything to know,” she assures you gently.

“Thanks, Nat.”

“You just try to get some rest, okay?” She requests as she walks toward the door. “Maybe drink some water, possibly consider taking a nice, long shower…”

“Goodbye, Natasha.”

She's chuckling as she closes the door behind her.

You lower your nose to your armpit as soon as the door clicks shut, inhaling.

Maybe she makes a valid point about showering.

Half an hour later, there's a heavy rain beating against the windows of your apartment when you finish bathing. You secure a towel around your chest before yanking off the garbage bag that you had wrapped around your cast well enough for you to rinse off.

Belly full and body clean, you felt somewhat better; at least physically.

You listen to the rain pound down as you sit on the edge of the bathtub, massaging lotion into your skin, and wonder where Bucky is right now - if he's safe, if it's raining wherever he's at, if he's somewhere dry -

You come to a sudden halt in the middle of brushing your teeth. It's hard to tell over the deafening roar of the rain and your bathroom fan, but you could have sworn you heard the creaking of a door or window from your living room.

I double checked the door locks after Nat left, you rationalize to yourself. This apartment is on the fourth floor, no one is going to climb the fire escapes to–

There's an unmistakable shadow visible through the crack at the bottom of the bathroom door. It's gone as quickly as it appears.

Shit. You start to panic as you realize you left your cell phone in the kitchen. As quietly as you can, you look around the small room for something to defend yourself with. A hair dryer, dental floss, a few week’s worth of dirty laundry..

You hear the creaking of floorboards as footsteps seem to creep closer and closer to the bathroom door.

Crutches. You have two crutches. You can clobber them with your crutches.

“I can hear you,” you call to whoever is just beyond the door. “I know you’re out there.”

Silence. No hint of any further movement.

You place one crutch under your left armpit for support, keeping the other one ready to wield as a weapon. “You have ten seconds to get out of my apartment,” you say a bit louder, willing your voice not to waver. “I have a weapon.”

Yeah, a weapon. If you can call it that.

Ten seconds come and go, followed by another ten seconds.

You weren’t going to let someone play this game with you in your own home.

Taking one last deep breath and tightening your grip on the defense crutch, you sling the bathroom door open quickly.

“Oh my god,” you exclaim, immediately relaxing your weight against the crutches, releasing the death grip that you had on your uninjured side.

It’s dark in your bedroom save for a few pale orange string lights hung around your bed frame and the light that spills in from the bathroom, but you would recognize his broad frame anywhere.

“Thank fuck you’re okay,” you exhale, swinging yourself over to where he stands at the foot of your bed. When you’re a little over a foot away from him, you realize he’s sopping wet - his hair dripping water droplets and his skin dewy. His clothing, the same clothing that you last saw him in three days ago, clings to his body like a second skin.

He remains still as a statue, and as silent as one.

“Are you okay?” You ask him apprehensively. You give him a once over, from head to toe. You don't see any noticeable injuries, but he is trembling.

“Bucky?” You ask in a small voice.

His lips are set in a hard line. He doesn't answer, just stares at you. Stares at you like he’s trying to figure out why he’s here.

Stares at you like he’s trying to decide if he knows you or not.

The immense relief that you had felt at knowing he's alive is washed away by a sinking feeling.

His eyes trail from your face and slowly down your towel-clad body. He pauses when he gets to your foot, glancing back and forth from your cast to the crutches on either side. His brows furrow together - almost like he's in pain.

“I'm okay,” you assure him in a shaky voice. “It's just a fracture,” you explain. “I'll be healed in no time.”

You notice that his features relax a bit at your words - just enough to give you hope that Bucky, your Bucky, is in there and he's listening to you.

Do whatever you have to do to keep him here. Don't let him out of your sight. Help him remember who he is, your inner monologue screams at you. Just don't let him run away again.

“Are you cold?” You ask him. You're not necessarily expecting him to answer, you're just trying to put him at ease. “How about we get you some dry clothes?” You add, nodding towards his drenched henley.

You retreat into the bathroom, grabbing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that he'd left over the last time he had stayed the night - the night before he went missing. They were at the top of the laundry basket - maybe not the cleanest, but better that the wet, dirty clothing he's in currently.

You limp your way back over to where he stands at your bed, leaning against the mattress for support. You set your crutches down and hand him the shirt and pants, which he hesitantly accepts. He makes no move to remove the wet clothes from his body, instead gently places the dry clothes onto the mattress beside him.

“Would you like some help?” you offer cautiously, terrified of doing anything that could cause him to run. You slowly reach towards the clothing that he had just placed on the bed, but he stops you before you can pick the t-shirt back up - grasping your wrist in his vibranium hand.

You can’t stop the small gasp that escapes past your lips. His hold on you is firm, but not painful. You could rip your hand from him if you wanted to - but you don’t.

Instead, you let him hold your hand as he begins to rub his metal thumb in a circular motion next to yours. You’re frozen; watching him carefully as he examines the movements his metal digit makes on your skin.

The goosebumps that appear in the wake of his touch don’t go unnoticed by him. His eyes trail from where his hand holds yours and up the expanse of your arm, until they land on your exposed neck. The towel covering your midsection has started to come loose, hanging low enough to reveal the top of your breasts.

He drops your hand, taking a step closer to you. You have to remind yourself to breathe - your Bucky is in there. Your Bucky, who is gentle, and soft, and would never do anything to cause you harm.

You have to trust that.

He brings his vibranium fingers up to the edge of the towel, trailing them across the mounds of your breasts. Your nipples harden right away, visible through the thin material of the towel.

You would let this play out however he wants it to. However he needs it to.

When his index finger stops where the towel is tucked into itself at your side, you forget how to breathe. He pauses for a split-second before unhooking the cloth and letting it fall to your feet.

He drinks in the sight of you bare before him, his jaw clenched and pupils dilated.

Dozens of times he has seen you like this, and never have you felt so completely vulnerable under his gaze.

And still there's a slickness gathering at the apex of your thighs.

He brings his flesh hand to your waist, putting the faintest bit of pressure against your skin. You close your eyes at the sensation - he's barely fucking touching you and you could melt into him.

Your name falls off of his lips - it's barely even a whisper, nearly inaudible but unmistakable. Your name. He remembers your name.

“Bucky,” your voice cracks when you whisper his own name back to him. His eyes snap up to yours, a mix of realization and hesitation brewing in them.

You bring both of your hands to the tail of his wet shirt, giving him time to pull away before you start to tug the shirt upwards. He doesn't stop you - in fact, he raises his own arms to help you tug the soaked fabric off of him. You toss the shirt in the general direction of your bathroom.

You didn't think there would ever come a time that the sight of him getting naked for you wouldn't make you want to drool.

You unsnap the button of his tactical pants, keeping your eyes on his face the whole time, hyper-analyzing his expression for any sign of reluctance.

You dip your fingers past the waistband of his boxers, his eyes fluttering closed as your hand travels lower.

He's already fully hard as you hold him, stroking him as best you can from inside the confines of his underwear and pants. You pump him in your hand and his head rolls back so that he's looking up at your ceiling.

Fuck, it takes all the restraint you possess to resist leaning forward and sucking on his neck.

Another time, you tell yourself, anxious about overwhelming him.

He curses under his breath - something in Russian that you don't recognize but the expression on his face indicates it to be a praise. There's a shift in his initially reserved, unsure demeanor when you begin to pump him faster.

His head snaps back down, his eyes raking up and down your body once more before he brings his hands to your lower back, maneuvering you against the bed.

You scoot until your back comes in contact with the cool satin of your pillows, relaxing into the bedding. At last Bucky begins to shed the layers of wet clothing covering his lower half, not taking his eyes off of your body as he removes his boots, followed by his pants and boxers.

He kneels on the mattress, crawling above where you lay. You want nothing more than to grab him by the shoulders and pull his mouth to yours, but you are going to let him call the shots.

He nudges your thighs apart with his knee, nestling himself between your legs. He grasps your breast in his vibranium hand, giving it a firm squeeze before rolling your nipple between his icy fingers.

He lowers himself so that he's belly down on your mattress, his face inches away from your pussy. He removes his hand from your breast and you let out a small whimper of disappointment at the abrupt lack of sensation. He uses that same hand to hike your uninjured leg over his shoulder, securing his head between the soft interior of your thighs.

He kisses you, starting at your belly button and working his way to your center. His lips feel like fire against your skin. You keep your hips planted firmly on the bed, fighting the urge to thrust your pussy up to his face.

“Please,” you whine. “Bucky, please.” You swear you can see the faintest trace of a smirk that looks so undeniably Bucky.

You clench your thighs around his face and he lets out a low, guttural groan as his mouth makes contact with you.

Normally, Bucky closes his eyes while he's going down on you - gets completely lost in it. Right now, his eyes are wide open - making sure he doesn't miss the way your mouth gapes when he rolls his tongue around your clit and the way your chest heaves when he nudges his tongue inside you.

You don't know which you find hotter.

You can already feel the tightening of a coil in your lower belly, making it impossible to resist rolling your hips to meet the torturous pace he's set with his tongue. You grind against his face, the thin layer of stubble that's grown across his jaw since you last saw him scratching against the sensitive flesh around your cunt.

You're approaching your climax when he pulls away, making you mewl at the loss of contact. His face glistens with your slick.

He flips you onto your side, placing you on your left side so that your injured leg rests against the mattress. You prop your head up with your hand as he slides in behind you.

His chest presses against your back, the heat of his body warming you all over. His flesh hand juts between your thighs, raising your right leg high enough for him to slap his cock against your pussy.

He strokes himself in his hand while he teases your folds - lubricating himself with your juices.

You turn your head to look at him right as he sheaths himself inside you, filling you entirely in one swift motion.

Fuck, you have to taste yourself on him. You can't handle not having his mouth on yours for another second.

You tilt your head back enough to connect your mouth to his - every worry you once had about coming on too strong and overwhelming him melts away as he opens his mouth for you, moving his lips against yours in an effortless rhythm.

He starts slow, quickly working up to a rapid pace as he repeatedly slams into your cervix from the sweetest angle. The sounds that you're making for him are pornographic - moaning into his mouth as his flesh hand comes around your front, landing on your engorged clitoris. He rubs languid circles while he continues to pound into you from behind.

You pull your lips away from his when you feel your orgasm building. “You always make me feel so good, you know that?” You ask him breathily, your mouth now right next to his ear.

“Every time you fuck me, I'm more sure that no one could ever compare to you. You've ruined me for everyone else. There’s only you for me.”

“Fuck,” he curses and groans your name again - it's the closest he's sounded to his normal self, which only spurs you on.

“I’ve become so fucking addicted to you in such a short amount of time,” you say in between moans as the head of his cock hits your sweet spot just right. “Think about you anytime you're not near me, drives me fucking crazy.”

He flips you - doesn't pull out - so that you're now underneath him. He goes right back to the same brutal pace, bringing his flesh hand to cradle your face as he stares down at you.

Clarity - you recognize it plain as day on his features.

He gives you a few more fast, hard thrusts before you're milking his cock through your orgasm. You crash your lips to his and he's coming - filling you up with his warm seed as he kisses you senseless.

He gradually stills inside you, his body going limp on top of yours as he rests his face in the crook of your neck. You wrap your arms around him, peppering kisses across his scarred shoulder, where flesh meets metal.

“I'm so sorry if I scared you,” he murmurs against the sweat-slicked skin of your throat after a moment. “I wasn't myself. Not even entirely sure how I ended up here - it's like I was pulled in this direction - to you,” he sighs.

You're overcome with such an immense relief at hearing him speak that you could cry. You tighten your hold around him, rubbing your hands up and down his back.

“You could never scare me, Bucky,” you assure him. He pulls out of you, rolling off of you onto the bed beside you and tugging you to his chest. Your cheek rests just over his heart.

"I know you. Even when I know nothing else, even when I don't know myself, I know you."

♡♡♡♡♡

my masterlist

thanks for reading! as always comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated!

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Love Me Again

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: smut

Exes to lovers - this was requested so I hope you like it!!

To be completely honest, Lando doesn't even know what happened that night one year ago. He knows very well that he drank too much, got drunk like never before and that the next day he lost you.

You came to his apartment and found a hair band in the bathroom that wasn't yours. Lando knew whose hair tie it was, but he tried to hide it from you and convince you that it was yours. Of course with that, he only made things worse. The fact that he decided to lie about it hurt you even more.

You threatened to leave him immediately if he didn't tell you what happened the night before and who spent the night in his apartment. It didn't take long for Lando to break down and tearfully tell you that one of his girl friends spent the night at his place after going out. The morning after, he barely remembered anything, but he could have sworn that he hadn't even kissed her, let alone slept with her.

His only fault was that he brought her with him to the apartment and let her sleep there, but even that was more than enough for you to break your heart into a thousand pieces.

You knew which female friend it was. You never even liked her and even though Lando always told you that you had no reason to be jealous, it annoyed you that she was throwing herself at him every chance she got when the two of you were together.

She was too close to him for your liking and then when you heard that she was the one who slept over at his place that night when he was dead drunk, it was over for you.

Lando cried, despaired, begged you to forgive him for months, trying to convince you that for him there was only you, but you couldn't get over your pride and forgive him. In the end, you even believed him that maybe there really wasn't anything between the two of them, but the trust was broken between the two of you and it couldn't be fixed anymore.

Since you two were together for two and a half years before you broke up, you were very close to his family. They adored you and considered you a member of the family. They couldn't believe that you broke up, even they begged you to forgive him, but even though you decided not to, you still remained on good terms with them and continued to hang out from time to time.

And just like that you found yourself on a huge luxury yacht celebrating Mila's third (idk how old is she??) birthday together with Lando and his family. It was a three-day celebration in the small circle of family and for the sake of that you decided to remain calm and behave normally around Lando.

It wasn't easy for you to be so close to him yet so far away. It was even worse for him, but he enjoyed having you around. Of course he tried in every way to reach you, approach you, talk to you, he did everything just to get your attention. From time to time he would succeed, you would find it funny how he tried everything, so you would give in and engage into a conversation with him.

On the last night, everyone went to bed pretty early because they were exhausted from celebrating, swimming and sunbathing for the past three days, but you weren't so exhausted, so you decided to stay in the lounge area of ​​the yacht and be with yourself for a while. The sky was beautiful, full of shining stars and the feeling was so peaceful. You closed your eyes for a moment, but not for long because you were soon startled by none other than Lando's voice.

"You decided to sleep under the sky tonight?" He asked making himself comfortable on the sofa next to you.

"No, I was just enjoying looking at it."

"With your eyes closed?" He mocked.

"What else do you want other than to disturb my peace?" You roll your eyes sitting up from the lying position.

"I was very hot, so I couldn't sleep. Thought I'd come here to the pool to cool off" He says looking at the pool in front of you.

"It's like" You take a look at your phone to check the time. "Almost 1 a.m. and you're going to get in the pool now?"

"Yeah, wanna join me?" He smirks.

"No, thank you." You laugh rolling your eyes at him again.

He gets up from the sofa and begins to remove his shorts, leaving only his boxers on. You were a little embarrassed and you didn't expect him to start undressing in front of you, so you cleared your throat and looked away.

"C'mon, it's nothing you haven't seen before, y/n" He mocks seeing how flushed your cheeks got.

"I'm going to my room, you have fun" You say getting up and fixing your oversized t-shirt that served as your night gown.

"No, come on, stay, keep me company." He pleaded before stepping into the pool. "Please?"

It didn't take long for him to persuade you to stay, because you secretly wanted to, you just didn't want to admit it so you sat down on the edge of the pool dipping your feet into the water as you watched him slowly threw himself in. Diving under the water he swam closer to you.

"You enjoying yourself?" You ask paddling your feet.

"It would be even better if you jumped in with me" He says placing his hands on the edge on either side of you.

"Not a chance" You resist pushing him a little with your feet. He chuckles biting his lip and taking your foot in his hand pulling you to himself a little.

"Lando, don't you dare" You warn him when you feel yourself slide down a little.

"You're not wearing any shorts?" He asks tilting his head to the side to peek under your t-shirt. You gasp quickly closing your legs and pulling your shirt down.

"You're so inappropriate, get away from me" You push his chest with your feet pushing him away from yourself only for to swim back to you again.

"Did you have any fun these past three days?" He asked curiously.

"I did, I have always enjoyed spending time with your family. It was good to see everyone again."

"Even me?"

You stop and sigh softly at his question not wanting to look him in the eye. it still hurts, stings. You'd be lying if you said you weren't glad to see him. You still love him after all, but you're still not sure if you want to forgive him.

"I'd rather not answer that"

He can't hide the hurt look in his eyes after your statement, but he also doesn't want to push you away from him by bringing certain topics up again.

"Well, I'm sorry to tell you, but I had a talk with Mila today and she told me that I am all you talk about. She says it's getting too much even for her to listen to you" Lando being Lando, of course, turns everything into a joke just to lighten the mood. You can't help but burst out laughing at the nonsense that he was saying just to say something.

"There we go, that's the laugh I wanted to hear" You blush at his caring words hiding your face in your shoulder. He takes a risk and places his hands over your knees slowly pulling them apart to stand between them and you surprise both of you when you let him.

"Lando.." You sigh hesitantly when he slowly puts his hands on your waist and pulls you closer to him.

"Please, let me" Before you could even ask him let you what?, he pulled you down into the pool with him. You gasped and your skin crawled as the slightly cold water soaked your t-shirt making it clung to your body.

"Oh my God, oh my God!" You were breathing rapidly trying to grab the edge to get out, but Lando pulled you by your waist closer to his body.

"Hey, it's okay, it's okay"

"You're completely crazy" Your mouth complains, but your body responds differently to his touch especially when he moves one of his hands from your hip to your leg making them wrap around his torso.

"That's better" He says quietly glancing at your lips. You have to admit you feel a little uncomfortable, especially with his lips less than two centimeters away from yours. You haven't been this physically close to each other in over a year and you've almost forgotten what it feels like to feel his skin on yours. "It's just me" He whispers and it somehow calms you down when you remember that it's Lando, your Lando.

"Lando, you can't do this.." You say, but wrap your arms around his neck hiding your gaze in the crook of his neck. Your gesture encourages him so he hugs you tighter and gently kisses you on the cheek.

"Baby, I miss you so much" Your heart trembles at his choice of words. "I'm losing my mind without you" His voice breaks when you look at him and he moves your hair out of your face. Your fingers make gentle circular motions over the back of his head as you press your foreheads together.

"I swear only hope that one day you'll love me again keeps me sane" He continues.

"I've never even stopped" You quietly confess.

Even if he tried, he couldn't describe the feeling of hearing that from your mouth. He felt as if he had come alive again after such a long time.

He couldn't hold back anymore, everything in him was dying to feel you, to kiss you so he crashed his lips against yours and kissed you the way you kiss a person you love more than your life, but haven't been able to touch in more than a year.

You didn't even think about resisting anymore, you gave in and kissed him back with the same force. He walked with your legs still wrapped around him to the edge of the pool pressing against you with your back against it. His hands quickly slipped under your shirt exploring your body again after so long enjoying the sound of your moans.

"Please..please tell me that no one..has touched you..no one but me" His voice was quivering as he tried to get the question out to which he wasn't sure that he wanted to know the answer to.

Lando was your first. First in everything basically. And he was so proud of it. He loved your innocence and the fact that no one had ever made you feel the way he did. You were all his and that's why he had a particularly strong protective feeling towards you. And he probably would lose his mind if he heard that someone else had touched something that only belonged to him.

"No one but you" You panted making him go feral.

His hands went under your butt gripping it before his fingertips moved your panties aside. He grinded his crotch into yours nibbling at the skin of your neck.

"Lan.." You moaned wanting more, but hating to ask for it. Luckily he knows your body like the back of his hand and knows what you need very well so he slipped his middle finger inside of you. One was soon replaced by two making you throw your head back giving him full access to bite and suck on your neck.

"Fuck.." He hissed as the aching feeling in his cock kicked in desperately needing to be touched. "Baby, I need to feel you or else I'm going to explode" He grunts.

"Let's get out of the pool, yeah? We can't fuck in here"

He lifted you up from the water sitting you onto the edge before getting out of the pool himself. You took off your wet shirt leaving yourself only in soaked panties and a bra. He looked you in from head to toe before pulling you to him and laying you down on the sofa hovering over you.

As he pulled his boxers down and his cock sprung off you looked down at him with a slight concern in your gaze and he noticed it.

"What, baby? Is everything okay?" He asked leaning down to kiss you caressing your cheek.

"Yeah, it's just..it's been a while.." His gaze softened and he smiled pressing a kiss to your forehead to calm you down.

"We'll take it slow, okay?" He assured you. He pulled down your bra taking your tits out and attaching his lips around your nipples and with every passing second of him doing so you were getting wetter and wetter. He then took his cock in his hand rubbing his tip over your pussy up and down a few times hissing at the sensation.

He stopped at the center and felt you getting nervous as your breathing quickened. "It's alright, baby, I know you want this, I can feel how wet you are. I'll go slow, I promise."

He slowly pushed the tip in planting kisses along your jawline to distract you from the pain. He pushed a little further and you squeezed your eyes whimpering and holding your hands against his chest.

"It hurts Lan, it's too big.." You cried out trying to close your legs so he put his hand on your cheek gently caressing it. It took everything in him not to cum right away at you complimenting his length.

"Shh, I know, baby, but you have to let me in okay? We'll make it fit, yeah? Like we always used to" He cooed you pushing your legs further apart. "Just a little bit more and it's fully in. You can take it, love, I know you can."

Little by little and he pushed all of himself in staying still until you felt comfortable enough for him to move. "That's it, just like that, baby, always such a good girl for me" He was so impatient to fuck you, to cum all over or inside you it didn't matter to him, but he decided to take his time with you because he wanted you to feel good above everything else.

Once the pain was replaced by the feeling of pleasure, he started thrusting in deep and fast stretching you out in the way only he knew how. When you felt confident enough you wrapped your legs around his torso to push him even deeper.

"Does it feel good?" He asked and you nodded. "This reminds me so much of that time I fucked you on the couch in my parent's house."

"Ohh, Lando” You moaned.

"Where anybody could've walked in on us and see me pounding you from behind. Fuck, you have no idea how much this turns me on.." He groaned.

"I missed all of you, missed fucking you, feeling you squeeze my cock, playing with your pussy, oh" His words were coming out as broken sobs struggling to last as long as possible. "I feel you clenching are you almost there, love?"

"So close"

"Yeah? You're drenching my cock baby. You're so tight, fuck, I'm gonna cum in seconds."

"Ohh..yes yes, ahh"

"Oh shit baby.." Once he saw you slide you hand down to your clit and start playing with it, he lost it. His body shuddered, his cock twitched inside you and he came undone. He kept moving slowly until both of you rode out your orgasms.

When both of you came to your senses he started hugging you and kissing you as if you were going to run away every second. You leaned your head to the side and watched him smiling.

"So..does this mean you're mine again?" He asks tracing his fingertips over your collarbones.

"It does not, but" You emphasize. "If you try a bit harder maybe you can change my mind"

"Understood. Let's get you cleaned up for round two then"

"Lando, that's not what I meant…”

[bi-writes]

i'm a big fan of your writing! can i ask what made simon want to mail order a bride in the first place? thanks <3

mail-order bride

he's tired of staring across his dinner table and seeing nothing but empty space.

it isn't something he had thought about in the before. he's spent a long time shifting between different cots, collecting sand from faraway places and counting the bodies he dropped with tally marks against his boots.

there's a picture he keeps tucked into his vest, but he won't take it out. it sits heavy there, an invisible wall between himself and the outside world, a reality that he chooses not to believe. if he doesn't look at them, he won't think of them, and if he doesn't think of them, maybe he can pretend they were never even real.

they all have something outside of here. his sergeants are too pretty and too outgoing to stick around; they're social butterflies, and simon has seen the shuffle of pictures of some pretty girl that gaz can't stop staring at, and soap never shuts up--whenever they have a signal, he's somehow got a phone call with his cousin's stepfather's little sister, or it's his second cousin's brother-in-law's birthday, and he's got to wish him well since he missed his art exhibition last month.

even price has a pale circular shadow that is stained onto his ring finger.

it's not his fault, is it? it's not his fault he was dealt the worst fucking hand. it wasn't his fault he was born already two feet into the grave; it couldn't have been his fault that he can only get a good night's sleep when there's screaming in one ear or the rattle of a battlefield over his head.

it isn't his fault. it isn't his fault. it isn't his fault.

the cigarettes taste bland today. they're old, stale, and he can taste the bitterness already, but he lights it anyways, flicking ash into the ground, scrunching his nose until he gets used to the bite of it.

there's a shadow at his side, and he turns to snap at them, assuming it's johnny and his incessant nagging, but he holds his tongue when he realizes it's his captain.

he's got a warm cigar in one hand, and he leans against the concrete wall beside him, sighing deep, the kind of pensive weight that only a captain can bear.

price looks tired. he needs to go home.

"boys invited y'out, didn't they?" price asks, and simon chuckles lowly.

"'m olready 'ome," simon murmurs. "'n i can get piss drunk oll on my own 'ere."

price shrugs.

"ya haven't taken leave since you joined my team, simon," he says low. "can't have that. you know it."

simon shrugs.

"can try and make me go," simon tells him. "but y'know i won't leave."

"i'm not asking, simon," price says firmly. "'m telling."

"doesn't matter," simon takes a long drag of the cigarette, holding it in for a second too long before letting it out slow. "got nowhere ta go."

his captain is not blind. simon's on a one-way road, and the end of it stops at the end of someone else's gun. men like simon, the ones who have nothing to lose, they're dangerous. they clear rooms outnumbered thirty to one because no one thinks they can. they hit targets from thousands of yards away because it's the only place that never changes. they kill and sleep peacefully because the blood of a stranger is far cleaner than that of someone they know, of someone they love.

they'll never leave because war is familiar. they don't want to go home because home isn't something they know. they're nomads, taking with them only what they can carry, because the rest is baggage and an emotional weight that they aren't strong enough to carry.

but it doesn't mean men like simon don't want. it doesn't mean they don't wish for more. it doesn't mean they don't think about using their teeth for something other than baring them to show their dominance, their aggression, their insecurity.

simon's a protector. the way he shoves his men behind him says so. the steadiness of his voice over comms when the op goes to shit. the ease of his hand when he ties a tourniquet. the split second that simon never wastes, the way he uses his body as armor and the look he gives his men when they're scared. simon's died twice before, and the look in his eyes tells them that this isn't it, that this isn't death, because he'd fucking know--he'd recognize it if he saw it.

simon's unrelenting. his past, his trauma, it's tried to beat him into a shape that will bend and snap, but its obvious simon is not made of lead--fuck, he's an entire block of unmovable steel. he does not give when compressed, he does not crack when the strength of him is tested. simon's fought too hard to live to let a gun terrify him, he's endured too much torture to flinch when someone sinks a blade into his chest.

but he knows, simon knows, that there is something missing. he fought hard to live, but for what? he's endured, but what the fuck is there when he lays his head down at night?

simon's a lover. he tries so hard to convince himself that he's always been this way--alone, drifting, lost, but it's a lie. simon knows what it's like to want. he knows what it's like to look into a crowd and hope you see a familiar face. he understands wanting to pull that string taut, but he also understands what it can do to you. what it can take from you.

he understands what you can never get back.

he thinks this is a bad idea. he crumples the note paper in his hand that had the address scribbled onto it, tearing it, staring up at the house in front of him. it's quaint, a lovely little house in the outskirts of london, with a red chimney and overturned planters in the yard. there's a weathered wooden door, a porch step that needs fixing, and when he kicks open the door, he grimaces seeing a carpet that need's replacing.

"the fuck am i doin' 'ere?" he whispers to himself, sliding his mask off, running a hand over his face. his heart is pounding, but he's not sure why, but he catches his reflection in the window. what looks back at him terrifies him--he can't do this.

he makes his way back outside, rummaging through his pockets for a cigarette. he takes a seat on the steps, lighting it, and as he takes his first frantic drag, he sees the torn pages of the note still on the ground. he picks up one end of it, running his thumb over the crumpled paper there, smudging the pencil scribble there.

she needs you

it's written in price's ugly handwriting, letters all tilted to the side and barely legible, but he still can read what price didn't write--and you need her.

but simon doesn't need anyone. he barely needs himself, barely can take care of himself. this won't help him--he can't help anyone, he isn't the kind that can be this kind of thing for anyone. he's stayed in the service because at least this way, he can die with honor, he can prove them all wrong, he can at least be remembered for what he could do and not by what was done to him.

his touch is ice. his heart is buried too deep under his ribs; no one has seen it since he could finally register a memory. his face, the skin he wears--he's not a pretty man, he's a forgettable one. he isn't gentle, he isn't capable of it. he can't forgive. he's so quick to anger, likes to snap his teeth, and he cannot be the kind of thing that they all expect him to be.

he does not love himself. he will not love himself. so he cannot love another.

there is a certain kind of satisfaction he feels when he fixes the porch step. once abandoned, once a nuisance, and now it functions as intended. he feels the same kind of thing when he rips up the stained carpet, and he feels it again when he watches the seeds of the thyme leaves grow as they rest in a pot above the sink.

things once forgotten serve a purpose. with effort, they can be used again. they don't have to be replaced, they can be open anew, they can live again and breathe deeper and see through the lens of a different perspective.

when you climb the porch steps the first time, he thinks about the board that doesn't wobble any longer. when the door shuts behind you for the first time and you take off your boots, he thinks about the new carpet that warms your toes now.

and when you lay next to him for the first time, under the covers of the bed he's made, he reaches over and slips a few fingers around your wrist, thumbing at the base of it and swallowing hard when he feels the pulse of your heartbeat. it beats, warm and steady, to a beat familiar, one he knows. his heart has not been hiding under thick bone and the tar of his own blood.

it's here now. under your skin. and now it's home.

[thinkinonsense]

first sleepover with worst!logan *mdni

the two of you hadn't been together very long before you invited logan to stay over; and to say he was hesitant would be an understatement.

"i'm not sure, princess..." he mumbles, getting up from the couch to leave again.

"c'mon lo..." you purr, stopping him by crawling into his lap. "it's getting late anyways."

this was the latest he had been over; almost three am. you weren't sure why he was so insistent on leaving, during the day he would hang around your apartment for hours but when night falls, he's eager to go. none of it made sense to you but to logan, it was crystal.

to start, he didn't want you to get too attached. logan couldn't have a sweet young girl like yourself get wrapped up in his twisted ways. from the moment first saw you in your silky, tiny nightgown he knew he wouldn't last a whole night alone with you.

"ain't gotta worry about me, sweetheart." he said, tucking a strand of lose hair behind your ear. "i can take care of myself out there."

you look up at him with these sad pouty lips that remind logan of one of the many times he's been shot in his lifetime. he loathed how soft you're making him; smoothing ever sharp edge of him until you've molded him into your perfect mate.

"pretty please, logan." you whine, wrapping both arms around his neck. the begging was only making it worse for him.

"i don't want to have to do this, doll face." he sighed, hands unknowingly traveling to your hips and playing with this silk.

"then stay here with me."

logan didn't think he was this weak. the old him would've just barked in your face and stormed out of the apartment already; but instead he's being dragged into your bedroom. the only part of your apartment that logan has never seen. well, technically he's peeked in once or twice but he's never been inside. everything about the room reminded him of you. soft pastels plastered everywhere and cute little decorations littered about.

what really got him was your bed. baby blue sheets with matching pillows and a decorative heart pillow front and center. if wade saw him sitting in this girly bed, logan would never hear the end of it. but for her? he would lay here until he died.

"whatcha think?" you ask him with a small smile.

"looks just like you; pretty and vibrant." he says, one hand on your jaw to pull you into a quick kiss.

logan stripped himself of his shirt before climbing in next to you. both of you laid on your sides with one of logan's arms wrapped firmly around your abdomen in the quiet bedroom. time passes and logan thinks he's finally got himself under control; falling asleep peacefully for once.

"mmm... lo..." you groan softly from your slumber.

logan wasn't an idiot, he knew what has happening. it wasn't easy but he tried to block you out, ignoring your sweet cries for him which had become manageable until you began squirming against him; your volume increasing little by little.

finally, he had to put an end to this torture. both large hands placed on your waist tightly and almost harshly to stop your movements, ultimately awakening you.

"lo, what are you-"

"can't even behave while sleeping, huh?" his voice was hot against your ear. logan's right hand travels up the nightgown to paw at your chest in a way that made your eyes roll back. his left hand travels south, exposing the thin matching material underneath your nightgown which sends your head flying back against his shoulder. the movement exposes your neck to him, biting and licking as he pleases.

"s-s-sorry for... for w-waking you up-p." you apologize, moving against his lower hand.

"no need to apologize, dollface." logan chuckles darkly at the eagerness and candor in your voice. "this is a much better sleepover than i imagined."