#and so in honor of how much I hate them I'll pour one out for the biggest reactionary freak of all time

[permian-tropos]

as a communist i feel a moral responsibility to celebrate stalin’s death day even louder than the liberals are gonna be doing it especially with the last year being what it was on the subject of fucking deranged irredentist ussr-nostalgic imperialist genocide apologia so 🍾 rest in piss fucko, god willing I will live to see the day communism frees itself from your rancid shadow

[oracle-of-dream]

Photo Finisher

Minors DNI

Summary: You've been asked to participate in a photo shoot for the Vogue World Fashion Show to showcase a friend's clothing line. The model you working with has heard of your reputation and lets you know of his expectations early...

Warnings: Male reader, Pet names, Soft dom Jeno, Big dick Jeno, Daddy Kink, Business relationship, Unprotected sex, Multiple orgasms, Overstimulation, Praise kink, Breeding kink

Wordcount: 2k

Your body was heavy as you lay in bed jet lagged from the flight.

You'd been asked to attend Vogue World in New York to participate in a clothing showcase for a business friend of your company. You didn't really know the client, but your boss expressed how important it was to make them happy. You were to behave and follow any requests given to you by the client.

While you knew how important the case was, you couldn't bring yourself to emerge from the comfort of the covers.

A loud knock hit your door, "Um, Mister y/n? Are you there? I hate to bother you, but we need you to meet the models for some pre-event photos."

You rolled over to look at the clock. 11 am.

Fuck.

You're late.

"I'm coming now," You shouted back as you started pulling clothes out of your suitcase. It didn't really matter what you were going to wear since you were taking the photos and not in them. When you emerged from your room, you were wearing a white button-up with the top three buttons closed, black leather shorts, and knee-high white socks. "Apologies, I overslept," You said softly while rubbing your eyes.

Your manager nodded, "It's alright, y/n. We're running behind, so I need to take you to meet the VIP, there you'll get to know him, take a few photos, and then wait until the staff collect the both of you." He looked you over, "Are you sure you'd like to wear this? It's cold outside."

You nodded, not really listening, "Yes, it's fine. I'll bring a coat. If it's too bad then it's my fault. Let's go."

Your manager took you up two floors in the elevator and led you into a suite. There were staff in the room doing finishing touches on a man who immediately turned to greet you.

He was tall, had dark hair, and wore a black suit that opened to show his shirtless form.

"Hello, I'm Jeno from NCT. I'll be your model today, it's an honor to work with you," He pulled his his suit jacket closed as it slipped open and revealed his muscular torso.

His smile was bright and slightly embarrassed, "I'm sorry, this isn't the kind of clothes I usually wear. And you look amazing too, the stylists worked hard on your outfit."

You looked down at the clothes you'd thrown on. "Thank you, Jeno, let's chat," You sat on his bed as his makeup staff began to clean up and leave.

Jeno nodded and sat in a chair across from you, posing naturally. He was perfect. The way the jacket slid open to show his abs, the single silver chain necklace, and the simplicity of the outfit made it more sexy.

You coughed, trying to focus on your job, "So, Jeno, do you know who I am?"

He nodded, "You're y/n, the famous photographer. You're so good that you can make a rock look like it's something Picasso painted."

You suppressed a prideful smile. "And you're Jeno from NCT, one of the rappers and dancers, right?" You pretended you didn't remember much of the information you'd been given in his file, but it was a long flight with nothing to do. Of course, you'd read it over a few times. "You're the only one in your group selected to be here as a representative– it's a lot of pressure, right?"

He nodded gingerly, "Yes! I'm so anxious about making any mistakes. So I've trying to keep myself balanced."

You looked out the window, natural light pouring out of it then examined Jeno's face. His structure was more beautiful as his natural structure made shadows that accentuated his form more.

"You're lucky, you know that?"

"I am. Because I get to work with you."

"Most people say so much just for a consultation. But we're even going to have a private photo shoot too."

Jeno's posture shifted forward as he sat up, leaning on his hands that used his knees for support.

You bit the inside of your cheek as the smooth clothes moved around his body, every roll and wave of the clothes revealed more for you to enjoy.

"So. I've also heard a secondary function that you serve, to ensure photos are better," Jeno stated. His energy was different now, he was playful like a dog earlier but now Jeno spoke more like a man. "I've heard that you have sex with your clients because their natural beauty is enhanced from orgasms."

You cocked your head to the side, "So you've done thorough research on me. Even about my beliefs about my work."

"I also know that you're rather picky about those you'd have sex with. You're usually only assigned male clients, adults, and those who pay lots of money to ensure they look good."

You nodded, "And?"

"And you can tell if someone is worth the extra work from a glance."

You smiled, "Wow, you're so well-studied."

Jeno stood, letting the jacket hang open for you to look at his body, "Do I pass?" You could see his pants had tightened with a huge bulge that he was putting on display for you.

"Are you ready for me to make you beautiful?" You said softly as you opened your shirt, letting it barely hang on you as you crawled further onto the bed, toward the edge where he was standing.

"I'm willing to do anything for you, gorgeous," Jeno moaned as you put your hand on his crotch. "You've got me so hard already," He gently slid his pants and underwear away to reveal his massive cock. It poked your lips as it twitched, Jeno shook his hips so it would slap your face a few times.

You couldn't restrain yourself, and Jeno could tell from how your legs squished together.

He pushed you onto the bed and he kissed your body and face, leaving a few love bites on your stomach.

"You ready for my cock?" Jeno asked as he dragged a finger down your stomach, tracing the darkened spots he'd made.

"Mmm, please," You moaned as he slid your pants.

Jeno's suit jacket was still on him, and when he slit it off you were allowed to behold his true body. He was designed for a camera, you took mental notes of how his muscles flexed and shone in each movement.

"Tell me what you want," Jeno whispered as he hooked your leg on his shoulder, his dick rubbing against it. Jeno's eyes were dark, and his smile was mischievous, but he was still obedient to you.

"I want you to fuck me, please, Daddy."

"Daddy, I didn't think you were a Daddy's boy," Jeno chuckled as he pulled your shorts off. Your hole was waiting, twitching, and Jeno slipped in a finger experimentally. It slipped in with no resistance, which made Jeno's jaw loosen in arousal, "You prepared yourself?"

You nodded, "Just for you."

"Next time, I want to do it," He kissed your forehead as he pointed his cock toward you.

You nodded breathlessly as Jeno pushed into you, "O-Okay, I'll do that." Your eyes rolled back as Jeno slowly slid into you. His cock felt neverending, it just kept pushing deeper into you as you shook on the bed helplessly. "You're so... deep," You moaned as you felt your hips come into contact with Jeno's.

"You're doing so good, good for Daddy," Jeno complimented as he placed his hand on your stomach. "Look here, baby," He moved your hand to feel his cock bulging you. It was the first time for you, and you could barely keep yourself sane as Jeno's cock throbbed inside you.

"It's so big, too much," You moaned as you tried to move away from Jeno, but he grabbed your arms pulling you back into him.

"No running, that's not allowed. You signed up for me and seduced me like this, so you have to take responsibility."

Jeno started slow and gentle as he started fucking you. Only moving a few inches at a time, keeping you mostly filled. Each thrust was still enough to make you moan like he was going all out with you.

"It's okay if you cum, baby. Don't hold it, it'll be harder for you if you're holding it back." Jeno pulled back and used your arms to pull you into him as he thrust forward, slamming into you, and you came instantly from the impact.

Your body tingled and twitched as Jeno stopped moving, he admired you clinging around him.

"I-I... Can't... More," You tried to beg.

"You want more?"

You shook your head, begging.

"That's not very fair. Getting off and then telling me to stop. I won't continue until you say, but you're going to have to sit right here until then," Jeno rolled his hips to remind you he's inside you still.

"J-Jeno, please," You moaned.

"Hm? Daddy's here, have you calmed down?" Jeno cooed as he kissed your chest, feeling your heartbeat start to slow down.

"More, please."

"As you wish, my prince," Jeno said as he laid onto you, holding you by your shoulders and hugging you tightly, your cum sticking you and Jeno together. He pumped into you, as he watched your expression. Your eyes are wide open and out of focus, moaning like crazy, and even drooling. "You're so cute like this, I wish you could be like this every time we meet," Jeno kissed your neck while he continued.

It felt like an hour, Jeno hit you nonstop. Grunting and groaning with every thrust. "I'm almost there, hang in there, baby," Jeno encouraged.

Jeno's encouragement went on for an extra five minutes, without losing steam.

"P-Please," You begged.

"I'm so close, I mean it. I–" Jeno couldn't finish his sentence as he groaned loudly in your ear as he came inside you, somehow pushing even deeper into you. The sensation made you cum instantly, making more of a mess on Jeno.

You're eyes rolled and your whole body shook as Jeno fucked out his high, pushing into you. You could feel every pump of Jeno's cock, pouring into you, his cum warming your insides.

Jeno, covered in sweat, sat up to look at his work. "We're gonna need to get you cleaned up."

You groaned, "Let's sleep."

"Let's? As in together? I didn't take a businessman like you to be so domestic," Jeno laughed.

"Who are you calling domestic!?" You sat up but the pain made you lay back down. "I can't sit up, you broke me."

Jeno scooped you into his arms, "Then I'll bathe you. I'll dock this service out of your pay."

"Like hell–You want to bathe me."

"So you'd rather lay like this?"

"If it means I don't lose money."

"Money? What about my feelings?"

"Your feelings don't pay."

"They can. Make me happy and I'll leave a personal tip," Jeno winked at you.

"I think you might give more than the tip..." You covered your face, wiping the sweat away as Jeno took you into the bathroom.

Jeno was more than thorough with you. Not only did he help clean the cum out of you, he massaged your insides, back, and neck with firm hands. The massage made you hard again, but Jeno said there was no more time for fun. He even dried you off and helped you back into your clothes.

"You're now so clean, baby," Jeno patted your ass, which made you wince. "Now, let's get to photos." He handed you your camera and directed the shoot himself, coming up with all the perfect angles, lighting, and photos. You just listened to him when he told you to take the photo.

After the photoshoot, Jeno texted his manager to tell them he'd finished. "Are you planning to go to the fashion show?"

You nodded, "I have to go, my boss told me I need to network."

"Then, will you be my plus one?"

"Like walk the red carpet?"

"Maybe."

You sighed, "Just don't slow me down."

"I think I should say that to you," Jeno said as he grabbed your ass, making you moan as you lean into him.

[blossom-works]

Love Always Comes With Pain

"Hunnigan, patch me to Anastasia." The computer guru asks you why, but you tell her that there is no time to explain. Your eyes are frantic and your breathing is heavy. Hunnigan nods and types away at her keyboard. You quickly take an earpiece and put it into your left ear.

"Anastasia?" You tell the woman who you are and that you work for the federal government (without specifying which one).

"What do you want? Do you want to tell me how crazy I am for doing this to avenge my husband?" The woman spits with venom.

You shake your head "No" even though she cannot see you. "I'm here to tell you that I understand. I'm married and I can't imagine losing my husband."

Anastasia who was about to pour the virus down her gullot stops.

"Listen to me Anastasia, I can't imagine what you've gone through. I can't imagine the pain you felt when you found out your husband died, but I do know that he doesn't want this for you. He doesn't want you to take the path of hatred."

"What do you know? Your husband is alive! You get to hear him say that he loves you! I didn't get that! The last conversation we had was an argument about him not quitting his stupid job!"

"But he loved you! He loved you so much, Anastasia. In fact, before he went on that mission he left you a letter."

"What letter? I never got one."

You take the stack of two papers and hold it out in front of you. You take a nearby sticky note and write something down real quick and show it to Claire.

"That's because you disappeared before the authorities could give it to you." And then, you start reading the letter.

"My dear lily," Hearing the nickname only her husband called her broke Anasatsia's heart.

"If you're reading this, then that means that I am no longer part of this earth. I don't want you thinking too much about my death. I want to let you know that I love my job and I would do it all over again even if it meant my death. If I were to go back in time though, I would've taken the time to listen to you and to tell you that I love you. I regret how we left things off.

Don't cry too much okay, Lily? And don't hate the agency too. If we don't do our jobs then the whole world is doomed. As much as I loved my job and my title, they mean nothing compared to you. My greatest honor in life was being able to call myself your husband, and my greatest accomplishment was calling you my wife.

I left some money in a separate account. I'm sorry that I kept that from you, but I created it for this exact case. Why don't you use that money and go on that trip we always talked about. The one in Australia? Seeing so many damn kangaroos that we end up becoming them. You should go, for the both of us.

It's time that I say goodbye Lily. It doesn't matter where you go, or if you fall in love with someone else and have that family you've always wanted, I'll always be with you. You will never be alone. I love you, Lily."

It took you everything in your power not to break down while reading the letter. Your heart truly breaks for Anastasia. The woman had nothing before meeting Jared. No living relative or children. When Jared died, Anastasia had nothing to keep her grounded.

In the background, you can hear some shouting and the sound of a door being broken down. Heavy boots hitting metal and guns cocking. With a broken voice, Anastasia asks you, "Did he really write that?"

"Yes...He wrote this letter for you Anastasia." You do not know what happens in the next two minutes because Anastasia tossed her phone aside, but then Claire came running in.

"You guys! They have Anastasia Boyette in custody and the vile of the virus."

Hunnigan cheers but it falls dead in your ears. You clasp the edge of the desk and take in a series of deep breaths. You try your best to blink the tears away but one water droplet manages to escape. Your two friends ask if you are okay and you just nod your head. You hand the letter to Claire and ask if she can personally hand the letter to Anastasia when time permits.

Later in the day, you hear the front door open and boots being taken off.

"Babe?"

Huddled on the couch you tell Leon where you are. When they successfully captured Anastasia, you immediately went home. You did not feel like celebrating this win. Leon comes around the corner and makes his way to you, but you beat him to it.

Seeing your husband brings a wave of emotions to you. Your arms wrap themselves around his torso and you bury your face in his chest. Leon thinks that you just miss him a lot and jokes that he should leave more often if this is the greeting he gets. You say nothing. You do not even laugh. Instead, you cry. Feeling his shirt getting wet, Leon asks you what is wrong.

"What's wrong sunshine? Why are you crying? Are you hurt? Did something happen?" Leon cups your cheeks and tilts your head up. His heart clenches at how defeated you look. Again, he asks if anything happened but you cut him off.

"I don't care." Your statement stumps Leon a bit. "I don't care where you go in this world to do God knows what because you have to. I don't care about that. I don't care how long it takes. I just...I just want you home." Your voice cracks.

Hysterically, you continue spilling everything you feel. "I don't care how you do it. Just come home. Do whatever you have to do. Shit, I don't care if you have to lose a limb or two. An eye. I don't care if your body is scorched or if you end up paralyzed for the rest of your life." By now your face is wet with tears. "I don't care Leon...I don't care about any of that. I just want you to come home to me. I want you home."

When you finish, you are completely overwhelmed with emotions. Leon shushes you and kisses your head. He wraps one arm around your back and cups the back of your head. Leon tenses the muscles in his arms to hold you even tighter. Soothingly, Leon rocks your bodies while carding his fingers in your hair.

Leon always believed that he would not survive this world without you. That if he ever lost you he would go insane and might even become the very people he is tasked to stop. Leon still believes this, but he realizes that this way of thinking is selfish. He forgot about you. He forgot about the scenarios when you lose him, not the other way around. Leon realizes that it is not just you who needs to live for him, but that he needs to live for you. The both of you would be empty shells if you lost the other. Your hearts just cannot work if they lose their reason to pump.

---

This idea randomly came to me and I couldn't let the opportunity pass, so please excuse the sloppy work.

FYI, I teared up thinking about this and again when I wrote it.

[lieslab]

To the future and beyond:

| °˖✧✿✧˖° | °˖✧✿✧˖° | °˖✧✿✧˖° |

Well, this is new. I keep sitting here staring blankly at my laptop screen, typing, deleting, typing, deleting, typing, and deleting again. I've been trying to figure out how to pour out my heart without coming across as selfish. I know my actions aren't selfish, but I'm afraid that it will come across that way and that's not my intention at all.

I used to update this account with new drabbles multiple times a week, but now I seem to struggle to upload once a week. Life is taking a toll again, but not necessarily in a bad way. It's more like, I'm growing up. I'm having more and more adult responsibilities that I never had before.

My work just added more hours for me to work. I'm trying to work through college classes. I've mentioned before that I have a younger sibling that I parent. Plus, I try to work in time to write and it's all just so much. Honestly, it's too much.

I get requests and I love them, but lately I feel bad because I can never seem to keep up. Because of that, unfortunately, this is the announcement that from now on requests will be closed. I've emptied out my inbox. To everyone who already requested something and I've responded to you, your drabbles are still coming. After they're posted, if you have another request, I won't be taking it at this time.

I know that sucks and I hate to do that, but it's not fair for either of us. It's not fair for you to have to wait a long time for something you want to read and enjoy. It's not fair for me to have to try and pull something together and half-ass it either.

After I finish all my requests, I'll probably still be here, just a bit quieter. I'd like to go back to posting stuff that I get inspiration for in the spur of the moment. I never post that stuff anymore because I feel guilty posting it when I have requests to do.

I want to start writing longer series and posting them for you to enjoy all at once. If you really like my writing and crave my stories, I still update full length fics five days a week. You can find the current one here.

I know it sucks, but I think it's a great way to give you higher quality writing, better stories, and who knows what I might add in the future. I think it'd be amazing to have some sort of interactive fic or create full-length trailers for each one, so you know what you're getting into.

This really is my passion and I love the band a lot. I don't want to entirely stop writing drabbles, just give you better ones. It's always been my goal to become a published author. Writing fanfic has made me better and believe it or not, it's actually opened up an amazing opportunity for me.

Because I spent so much time writing full-length fanfics, I qualified for a creator program which has a ton of resources to help grow my writing. It's the most amazing thing and it's such an honor and a privilege. I don't want it to slip through my fingers.

So while I study more resources, try to grow and expand my writing, all my old drabbles will still be here. My inbox will still be open, just not for requests. Please try not to be too hurt by this. There will probably be times in the future when I still open my requests, but for brief periods of time only.

I'm doing this to save myself stress and anxiety, to better my future, and to give you better content. I know you're strangers on the internet, but you really have become my safe space. You have no idea, but some of my drabbles are based upon my own struggles.

This is my haven and this truly does feel like home. More content will be coming your way soon, please just give it time. That's all I have and that's all I wanted to say. Thank you for reading and if you choose to stick around, thank you. I can't wait to see what this writing journey will bring and I can't wait to bring you with me.

<3 Lie

[danielleitloudernow]

This came up on my FYP feed and I thought it would be super fun to do in honor of NaNoWriMo.

20 Questions

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 30: 2 series, 5 WIPs, and a whole bunch of one shots 😁

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

134,500. Not sure how I hit an even number, but that's fun!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly Korrasami (The Legend of Korra) and JEmily (Criminal Minds), but I have written for WarriorBard (Xena Warrior Princess), Ramvers (Captain Marvel), and Pricefield (Life is Strange). I'm working on originals, too, but that's neither here nor there.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Fuck Was I

The Consequences of Jello

Profiles and Princesses

Measure the Coefficient of Static Friction Between Us

The Violets in the Mountains Have Broken Rocks

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Always. I always respond to comments. It's so fun interacting with readers, and often, other writers. I've made a few friends from it and it's been so great. I have been known to drop off the face of the earth so I don't answer for a long ass time, but j always answer. Plus, I think it's a great way to show appreciation for those taking the time to interact. I love those emails telling me a fic has a comment. I poured so much of myself and my time into something and someone took the time to say something about it! It's pure magic.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I think my fics are all HEAs, honestly. But there's a healthy dosing of angst throughout a lot of them.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably any of them, but Fuck Was I if I had to choose.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I did and I have. A fellow writer once called it "flaming troll shit" and since I changed my perspective to see it that way, I A) am considerably less bothered, and B) haven't really noticed it since.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do write smut. I write the type of smut I want to read and it's always evolving. I don't really do like, BDSM (love to read it, don't have much urge to write it, though), but I'll throw in some kink once in a while. Really, I guess I just like to write real sex. The emotions, the connection, the want.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Honestly, no. It's never really been something on my radar. It feels like a lot to keep track of or to meld and that's just a lot. Kudos to those who can and do, though.

11. Have you ever had a fiction stolen?

I really hope not. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but plagiarism is illegal, kids.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I'm aware of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have not. I have a beta reader (shout out to ireallyshouldnt_behere) who tells me if I'm an idiot or gives me suggestions, but we haven't moved into the realm of actual co-author (yet). We have joked about it before, and I would love to try a co-writing fic with someone.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Honest to God, JEmily. I had this theory when Criminal Minds first started back in the day that Emily and JJ got a little too drunk one night and clothes came off, that it turned into a thing. And then Will came along and Emily had to go and break her own damn heart because she didn't think she was good enough or JJ would be in danger being with her. Which is funny, given the Lauren arc, but I digress. But also, Xena and Gabrielle, always, because I grew up on XWP and those two were so obviously in love.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

A novel I started writing 12 years ago 🤣 I love the concept and the characters and what I want to do with it, where I expect it to go. But holy fuck, it's been tedious. I have like...40k words of just bullshit that's not even really connected.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Emotions. Sometimes tension. Angst. Smut.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Dialogue. And moving from point A to point B. Sometimes grammar (and that annoys me most of all).

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I've done it, but let's be honest, it's Google translated because I'm American and for some reason we think English is the only language...

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Legend of Korra. I had read something that just made my head hurt and I thought "I can write better than that!" Spoiler alert, that's a really shitty reason to write something and no, you can't always 'write something better.' Plus, everyone is different: voice, styles, confidence, all that. Anyway, I cranked out a random idea (Living on a Spare) I thought was funny, and here we are.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

Oh, why do you make me choose? That's a really good question. I think Chaos Theory (at least at the moment). I just found a bunch of bad pick-up lines and turned them into something ridiculous.

Just for funsies, I'mma tag @thewillowtree3 @blackbird-brewster @cargopantsprentiss @ahhhsami and hope you guys do it but really it's up to you! Cheers, yo!

[astrumocs]

actually pain and suffering be on u all of them for oda/LH /J.. (just pick maybe 3~4 you're interested in :3c)

🌞- Have you ever gone out or gotten caught out of your hive during daylight? What happened?

"I almost left Jules hive in the middle of the day once, but he's a light sleeper, and he heard me open the front door. He really went off on me for that attempt I won't lie to you."

💀- Are you strong enough to face shadow droppers on your own if faced with them?

"Strong enough? Like just on physical strength alone? Probably not. If I have my revolver, I think I could take 'em."

🛌- Do you sleep in a recuperacoon or do you rest in other accommodations?

"Nope, mostly just sleep in the 'ol fleet-issued shoebox beds these days."

🤳- Do you use trollian? If so, what is your handle? If not, do you use any messaging system?

"Oh sure, it's usually how I talk to Lad outside of Discorpse. Sometimes I talk to Zach and Kou on there too. I'm pretty liberal with who I give my handle, so I don't mind sharing; I can be contacted at morbidOutreach."

🌌- Have you ever wanted to travel intergalactically? What would you look for in a place to visit off planet?

"Well, I am in the fleet. I do think I'd love to visit a place with a whole bunch of unique plants, though, maybe take one with me if I could get permission from the locals."

🍳- What sort of cuisine do you normally eat? Are you openly okay with items labeled only as grubsauce or grubloaf?

"Standard fleet food on an average day, although even when I'm on Alternia I still eat gas station junk food now and then, so it's not really much better."

"Except when I go out with a friend of mine, it'd be pretty rude to bring a bag of chips to a bar or restaurant after all"

----- Rest Below the Cut -----

🚌- How do you normally get around/travel? Would they ever be able to afford their own scuttlebuggy?

"I like to walk, but when I need to go a longer distance I'm a big fan of taking the bus. I probably could get a car if I wanted one, but I don't think I'm all that interested. Thing would fall into disrepair or get stolen while I was out in space anyhow."

♥️- Do you think that pity should still be considered the normal feeling for a red or would you say love is a more common practice to look for in a mate?

"I think being in a relationship because someone feels bad for you is an uncomfortable situation to be in, it needs to be about feelings that go deeper than that. There should be love there."

♠️- Do you think pitches should only be based on hate, or do you believe they should also be based on a strong rivalry as well?

"I personally don't put hate into my relationships, I never hated my ex when we were together. Maybe it's just me, but I don't think pitch is about hate."

🪦- Do you believe everyone should be given a proper burial or is it a waste of time to have gravediggers?

"Of course, I think death should be as sacred as life. You can't-- or you shouldn't-- have one without the other. If someone wants to be treated a certain way after they've passed, I don't think it's wrong to honor that."

🪖- How do you feel about the ever-looming threat of being put into the fleet if called upon by the empress to do so?

"Bad news, I'm already there. Pour one out for me, would you?"

🔥- Have you ever done something (outside of murder) that most likely should be considered a criminal act, but either wasn’t or was just swept under the rug due to your status?

"The best way I can put this is that I've only ever done what I thought was right. Afraid I'll have to leave it at that."

[thatmexisaurusrex]

29 Please!!! 😍😍😍 for the February prompts. Thank you!💜

Awww, thank you so much for the prompt, @elektraking! 🥺

Date 6 of 28: Model Clothes for Each Other

| - 5 - | - Prompt - | - 7 - |

A soft lilac velour suit with burgundy accents. Light pink shirt under with burgundy accents as well. Sam awkwardly adjusting the cufflinks like anything could look bad on him. Fiddling, looking at a few rings to the side trying a few different ones out on his fingers to see what compliments the outfit. Adding earrings.

"You look great," said Bucky, as if Sam could ever look bad.

Sam could be wearing a giant hotdog suit and be killing fellas and dames left and right.

Sam looked at Bucky as if all he said were lies.

Bucky sighed, pouring a champagne glass for Sam, handing it over to Sam.

"Seriously," said Bucky, helping with the cufflinks, giving Sam a kiss, "You look like a total dreamboat."

They needed to figure out outfits. They were invited to a huge charity ball in New Orleans to help local and underfunded queer youth centers and Sam had been stressing out about what to wear, how to present himself so that he made a good impression and the shelters got as much funding as they could through the shmoozefest.

Bucky had talked to the stylist they had been working with and had convinced the man to leave all the options with Bucky. Bucky was going to make this fun. So he situated their living room like it was some sort of bridal shop, got champagne and everything, and was having them both put on a show for each other.

"Look. I'll just go in my underwear. I'll be the distraction," said Bucky, not really sure if anyone would pay attention to him with Sam looking drop-dead gorgeous right next to him, even if Bucky was in Bucky Bear briefs, "I'll make the sacrifice. I'm old enough to get away with doing whatever I want."

Sam hid his face in Bucky's shirt, giggling.

"You are not going in underwear," said Sam, moving away as he downed that entire champagne glass, "You're trying clothes on too."

"Want me to doll up for you?" said Bucky, winking, "I can doll up for you, sweetheart."

Bucky poured more champagne into Sam's glass, stripping out of his clothes with goofy flare as he walked over to the racks, waggling his eyebrows as he went.

"Stahp that," said Sam, "You're the silliest man I know."

"Thank you, I'm so honored," said Bucky, grabbing clothes at random, finding himself in a vibrant tartan check suit jacket composed of sky blue, daisy yellow, and hot pink paired with a black turtleneck and salted caramel slacks, a fancy yet minimalist belt, glancing over at Sam.

Sam looked unamused.

"I hate you," said Sam, taking a sip of his champagne, "You look good in everything and I hate you."

Bucky walked over to Sam, pulling Sam into a hug, Sam feeling like a huffy cat.

"I love you," said Bucky, "You look good in everything and I love you."

Sam groaned.

"Okay. So I might love you. A little," said Sam, Bucky snorting, "But it's still not fair."

"More like, it's unfair for everyone around us," said Bucky, "We're going to be the best looking couple at this charity ball."

Sam relaxed into the hug, wrapping his arms around Bucky.

"Thanks for doing this for me," said Sam, "I really appreciate it."

"Anything for you," said Bucky, kissing Sam's forehead, "Even me going in my underwear."

"You're not going in your underwear," said Sam, devolving into a fit of laughter, "Stop suggesting you go in your underwear."

"Just saying," said Bucky, loving how it made Sam laugh harder, "It's an option."

❤️ ❤️ ❤️

Want to choose a date for Sam and Bucky to go on during this special February Daily SamBucky Fluff Diary event? Check out the prompts here and send me an ask! I’ll write you a drabble as one of my Daily SamBucky Fluff Diaries!

[jovnie]

The king's arrogance | Namjoon

Summary

The King had knowledge on everything and one in his castle, however he knew nothing of the kingdom he ruled before him. That was till one day he left and found you a street merchant.

Words 5k

Namjoon king au! Reader civilian!

Warnings: fluff, cocky joon, medium amount of smut, mentions of parent death, creampie, oral ( female ), big-dick Joon, nonconsensual touches, creampie, rough sex, lot of plot. Very quick relationship.

I beg that you listen to The mary go round from the moving castle [ slowed ] when reading. I think you'll enjoy it even more with it in the background.

Namjoon sat on the throne, laid back and legs spread apart as a servant read him his to-do list for today.

"Well sir, today starts the month planning of the ball. We have a few colors I'm sure you'll enjoy, however, I'm sorry to inform you that the family members that shouldn't be named threatened third way onto the guest list" the man spoke in fear, nodding and sighing namjoon dismissed the servant with talks of the guest later.

"Mrs. Pot is the tea almost ready?" He asked kindly as the elder Korean lady nodded with a bright smile. Smiling softly, the older lady pinched his cheeks softly.

"I still remember when you were a baby and your late parents running you from tea session to tea session. Oh, how I'm sure you miss them as much as I " her smile faded, as she poured the tea on the table in front of him.

"I do, it's been 18 years now. Since I was 10 I believe, so right 18 years. I'm sure they would've loved to taste this freshly poured tea once again" he reassured, rubbing her back and once done taking a sip with her.

"I'll make sure to clean the alter table later and pour some tea with them" she smiled delicately, as took a drink of her tea.

That was right this year would make it the 18th anniversary of his parent's passing ever since the flood. It was heartbreaking, as his eyes dimmed in sadness the older lady pinched his cheek as he smiled with a tear down his cheek.

"Now don't go soft on me Namjoon, you have to stay strong for those who can't and I know it all hurts. But they'll be watching you like garden spirits. I know your mother is very proud and your father knowing how much a man and a king you have become. Now I have to go, it's time for me to go tend the gardens. Goodbye joonie" she waved, after collecting the empty teacups snd pots. Watching her wheel everything away, namjoon felt comforted by her words and took a deep breath before getting up and moving on with his day.

He spent the day testing and looking at fabrics, color swatches, and paper samples. The ball, gala, or celebration was very important for the kingdom. They only three one when it was important and this time it was a celebration of life once lived aka his parent's death date. September 4th. This day celebrated life and death, just like fall. He loved the metaphor behind it and hated how true love ended so quickly in his eyes. However he too wishes to be able to die with the one he loved dearly by his side, he hated how romantic it sounded and how bad he wanted it. Love wasn't an easy game and not once could he find someone who commented with him in a deep, if not spiritual way.

Itching the back of his head, he walked on and into his room. He had another busy schedule ahead of him. Sometimes he just wished he could live amongst the people for a day. That's what he'll do. Looking around for his leather satchel, he put together what he called a commoners bag. A bag that contained money, an id, and a diary. Looking around for clothes that seemed passable for a commoner and changed into them. From there he grabbed his stuff and snuck his way out of the Castle through the bag. He made sure Mrs. Pot knew where he was just in case this would get him in trouble. After all, the family would show up unexpectedly most of the time and he had people watch his every move as well.

Making sure his hat covered all of his hair, he walked into the street lights and found a carriage ride who was going home or into the city. He paid the guy and let him into the buggy and the city.

Namjoon did this for a weak till he knew the ropes of running out of the kingdom St night, he tried his best to avoid getting caught with the knight guards and the pesticide workers who showed nd yelled deals in his face. He also learned patience along with that, another valuable lesson needed as a king or so he was taught.

One night he went into a low-lit bar with entertainers. Majory we're female and drove the men in the room wild. He's had his fee share of women, but not when it came to this level. He found it charming and often sent gifts to them for their hard work. From the kingdom's guards and not him personally. Still, he ordered rice wine snd some jerky, before leaving. leaving a lady much shorter than him, bumped into his shoulder.

"Guards there's the thrift!" A younger woman pointed, as the men ran after her. Wanting to know what was up, he walked up to the merchant and simply asked. You explained that the woman was a theft, they would steal all her family food at night to make their profit.

"I'm sure you can be more um what are these?" He asked, picking up the food he's never seen before.

"Fruit?" You questioned grabbing the lemon out of his hand. "Well shops closed sir, come back tomorrow and you can buy our lovely fruit," you said kindly, walking up the stairs in this wooden place. Following you, namjoon closed the door behind and also walked up. Namjoon didn't know much manners, but he had the basics for a king. However, to a common person like you, he was a pest, rude, etc.

"Um, what are you doing?" you asked folding sheets for your bed up.

"It's nighttime aren't you gonna ask me to stay and wait till morning?" He asked raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I supposed. By the way, there's a futon bed over there. I'll make dinner soon then!" you welcomed, as namjoon looked ok confusion at what the blanket on the floor was trying to imitate. Taking off his shoes, he placed his bag on the 'futon' and hung his jacket and hat on the hanger by the door.

Arriving back you blushed hard, as a beautiful looking man was now clear in your view. Luckily for namjoon, you had no money to spend on papers like everyone else or let alone money to go to the balls either. Therefore you had no clue that this man was a noble, let alone the king. If you did you would've just died at how you just treated him.

"It's beef and seaweed soup, with carrots and onions" you listed off as you placed the bowl on the floor diner table. Placing a spoon and a napkin on the side, you forgot the drink. Walking away you grabbed him a cup and poured lemonade in, before walking back. On your arrival, you saw him going to town on the meal. He slurped and moaned as he complimented your cooking. Chuckling, you sat the glass of lemonade down and took the napkin to wipe his chin and cheek. Placing it down, you watched him continue and enjoy it. Although there was only enough for his, you still had something to eat. You simply had bread and butter with some lemonade as well.

It took him a bit to notice you didn't have a bowl which made him feel a bit guilty but instead handed her 30 ₩ which was a lot during that time. Not wanting to take it, he "accidentally " dropped it down your bra and smiled.

"Well it's late, we should sleep and then go out to shop for food and new clothes" the man spoke.

"I'm sorry but I don't know you, how do I not know you're not trying to kidnap me or steal or worse kill me!" You mentioned as the older man stripped off his shirt.

"You don't have to, just know ill help you and accept the gift" he spoke, pitting his clothes beside him.

"Excuse you, you don't come in someone's house and act like this. Do you even have manners?" You added in frustration.

"I paid you, it wasn't a gift. It was a payment and I can tell you've never gotten one" he snickered, laying on the futon snd taking your cover. Annoyed at the man, you crossed your arm as he mouth "you have a problem?"

"Yes, I do! What's your name to begin with?" You asked, laughing it off he closed his eyes.

"Surprised you don't know and it'll stay like that for a bit darling" he whispered, moving over he patted next to him. "Sleep with me"

"No! I don't sleep with strangers like that, unlike you I have honor " you mentioned, getting up to go change into something appropriate for bed. Once done, you came back and he was still in the same position as before.

"I think I demanded that. besides I can ruin this little shop of yours if you don't. " he threatened, looking at his nails snd then at her. Well dressed and groomed man, you could visibly see the power he likely had. This was your mother's business and you promised her you would take care of it. Saddened you laid down next to him and whispered "please don't, this is all I have left."

"So we're on the same page I believe, no?" He asked, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Yes," he replied. She felt uncomfortable and annoyed at the fact she had to do this for a business. Let alone a man, then again the men weren't always so kind to the women here, most always. She sighed and just accepted it, as he covered the two up.

"Call me Joon, " be whispered in your ear. Nodding, his hands traveled up and down your wist. Coughing, he halted then stopped after finding a comfy place to lay his hand.

"Do you do this with every woman?" You asked, curious.

"Well the last time I had a woman in my arms, she tried to advance me in marriage" he mentioned, putting his neck in-between your shoulder and neck.

"I do however have experience If that's what your aim is?" He said softly.

"Not really, I mean if a stranger just threatened your job and made you do this. Along with inappropriate touching for people who just met, I'd believe you'd be the class below poverty. Not a king not noble" you told, unexpectedly holding his arm between your breast.

Noticing, namjoon's cheeks flushed red. Luckily the lantern. Was behind him and not in front, so she couldn't see. "Toché" he replied.

"However I can see you've had a bad experience with men hmm?" He asked, softly brushing his nose on her neck.

"So you're not around here I see, well yes every guy here is just shit. Rude snd ignorant as you" you huffed, as raised an eyebrow.

"I'll give you that, feminist huh. Cute, haven't met one till you" he smiled, intrigued. "It seems like I've violated it huh, touching you snd acting sloppy" he added, moving your hair out your face.

"Glad you noticed, now turn the candle out!" you demanded, closing your eyes. Doing just that, he then wrapped his leg around you snd kissed your cheek.

"Good night"

Morning came, as the two of you laid there comfortable in each other's embrace. With him being the first to wake up, he tapped your shoulder and you woke up soonly after him. Yawing and stretching, you made sure your hand hit him on purpose.

"Sorry," you said coy, as he rolled his eyes up and shrugged it off.

"So when's breakfast?" He asked, getting up as you realized he had just worn cotton briefs. One's that we're expensive and that added more mystery to him. Why was someone who could've been from a noble family be here and threatened for his stay? Then the thought of maybe it's all stolen.

"The time?" He asked waving his hands over your face as you realized you had zoned out.

"Sorry, we have to go get food and we can buy food at the square." You mentioned.

"Where's the bathroom?" He asked, you pointed to the medium-sized room across from him. The place was small and combined, so you could see the kitchen from the bed area and a mini living room. Nodding off he grabbed his clothes snd began using the pump to pump water into the bath.

"Don't use all the water!" You yelled.

"I can and make you join me" he yelled back, smirking.

"No ill make you get more water from the lake behind here" you replied, itching your hair.

"Don't you have to get more water anyways, less work" he mentioned, leaving the door open and sitting in the tub? This man was quite weird when it came to flirting, it somewhat seemed motherly and innocent. However on the other hand, overly sexual and mysterious.

"Fine" you huffed, striping and walking towards the tub. That's when that harsh look he had softened and turned into a stare. There you were in front of him, naked snd he took every moment to vies your body. He saw how thick your hair was and how curvy your body was. He liked that, he paid attention to how big your breast was and the fact it looked like you haven't trimmed in a week. Which meant you looked old enough for him to do special things with.

"How old are you?" he questioned.

"I love how you did all of this without asking' she rolled her eyes, trying to muster a pony 0tail with the length and thickness of her hair.

"Turning 20 next month!" she replied excitedly.

"28 next month as well" he replied, breathing out the air he had subconsciously kept in. Getting in, she sat in front of him, covering her chest with her knees.

"I can still see you!" he laughed, grabbing the soap from the tray. Washing his body first, he took his hands and spread her legs open and washed below and around her arms and chest.

"Open," he said, waiting. Opening your arms you rolled your eyes and he splashed you with water. "Manners young lady " he mentioned. Knowing he's right, you sighed. Your father once told you the same when he was alive and because of that "Joon" reminded you of your father a bit. He acted mature and young simultaneously.

Washing your arms and your thighs, you washed off the soap on his neck and took the plug out to drain the dirty water. Placing the soap down, he spread his legs open and you accidentally saw something you shouldn't have. Frightened and embraced, you blushed. Taking his hand and pushing your gaze to meet his. He smiled softly.

"It's fine, just don't get too threatened by it. I'm aware of the size," he mentioned, looking you in your eyes. Nodding, you this time pumped the water until it was all out. Cleaning the both of you, you couldn't help but feel shy snd flustered. He felt the same, only he knew how to hide it. But not everything he knew or wanted to hide.

He looked in your eyes, noticing a soft dismal look on you to which he replied with "tell me are you okay?" Thankful for the concern, you told him about your parents passing and the shop's importance to you was. He understood automatically and exchanged his parent's passing in less detail. He didn't think he'd meet with someone with such a familiar background as his, even if they were below Noble.

He took her hand and placed it on her chest. "They're here, I'm sure your mother would be proud of how you came out to be. So leave it at that" he smiles wildly, with his eyes closing shut a bit as he did. You were glad to hear that and he never thought that Mrs.pot's comfort would come in handy, but he's glad to say and share a similar message.

"Speaking of do you have an altar?" He asked gently, unplugging the water and helping you stand up. Nodding you pointed out the door to a small corner. He thanked you and grabbed both of you a towel. Getting dried and dressed you did your hair as he went over to pay the slightest respects. Smiling at how kind the gesture was, you walked over to the rack and tripped over your foot trying to hand him his stuff. You saw a journal fall out and your eyes met his.

"You're a journalist?" You questioned, fixing your dress and hair before getting up and handing his stuff.

"Yeah, not from here tho," he lied, dusting dirt from your shoulder. Nodding you both made your way down the stairs, as he took your hand. Noticing it, you smiled. You wondered why he was being nice to you all of the sudden, however, that all changed when a guard walked past by and he brought you to a kiss. Confused and his eyes waiting for them to go, you kissed back hesitantly. Letting go, you looked at him worried he shrugged it off and you walked him to the square.

Hand in Hand, you brought namjoon to the bakery. Looking around, he pointed out the most expensive bread on hand and paid. Thanking him, he leads your hand to the vendors outside. Lucky for you, he knew about gardening and what was good. He helped and taught you the basics snd you learned you've been scammed for years. Thanking him, you took him to a cart of flowers and smelled the fresh roses, looking up at him. He paid for the golden yellow rose bouquet. Now it was for his favorite part of the day, clothes shopping. But beforehand, he pulled you into a cafe.

"Two bags of your finest coffee," namjoon ordered, by now you shouldn't have been shocked at how much he could spend. But seeing him use more money than you've sent your entire life was a sight to see snd each time you were thankful. You had enough food and supplies to last week if not a month. Holding you close by him, you realized you warmed up to him and small gestures like that felt comforting to you. He noticed and did it more often.

Soon it was night and there was only, one dress store open. In there was a beige dress that sparkled in the shop's lights. Running to the window to look, you smiled. Feeling a hand on your back, he took a step in and pulled your hand in with him.

"Welcome to Gezels tailor and shop" the owner greeted. He was an older man with gray hair a fragile smile.

"Well take that dress in the window snd tailor it to her size. His much is it?" Namjoon asked, pulling his wallet for the last time today.

"₩ 10,000" the man spoke, paying upfront the older man invited you to the back room and told namjoon to stay upfront. Nodding, you walked ahead and namjoon sat in the chair. He had a diary to write about today's and yesterday's adventures. He started up about the bathtub time you shared snd imagined your body once again. If only he knew his to draw, he'd paint a pretty picture in the book. Soon after finishing his entry, you walked out with a note.

Note: the dress will be ready for you miss before dusk, come back tomorrow with your lover -Gezel tailor and shop

You handed it to namjoon and he read it, as the two walked out. Suddenly loud commotions of horses snd guards ran through the city with lights.

"The king's missing!" The horseman yelled into the square. Namjoon in a panic rushed you two into the forest nearby. Confused, but following him. You wondered if he had something to do with it, besides this wasn't the first time he ran away from the guards today.

"They can't find me or ill be in trouble, act like a lover, please. I'll pay you in gold when I can" he begged on his knees with his hat on his chest.

"Don't pay me, think of it as a token of my gratitude. I'll help, but you have to explain everything when we get back," you murmured, taking his hands and helping him out the dirt. Making you drop the food and his bag.

Suddenly, he gripped your body and jumped both of you in a lake as he heard the sounds of horses clamping. A sound you didn't even hear. Holding your head under the water, he waited for the light of the torch to leave the lake area before swimming the two of you up.

Taking deep breaths of air, the two of you swam to the doc snd he helped you up first before himself. Luckily, the food wasn't damaged. Frustrated, you grabbed the food and his bag as you walked home. Walking in, you kept the lights off snd went to the second floor.

Stripping you of your clothes snd placing the bags down, you watched him do the same. Forgetting you had to pump the water, he suggested he'd go do it and you nodded giving him directions snd within 30minutes he was done. Striping once again, he hugged your body to his chest. You soon felt tears on your neck and small crys, you rubbed his back snd just stood there till he let go.

"What's wrong?'" You asked concerned.

"I could've killed you!" he cried, remembering the look his mother gave him before dying in his arm. His father did the same thing to his mother, only on a ship in the middle of the sea. Hugging him, you rubbed his back and placed a kiss on his lips. Holding you to his chest, kissed you back, and laid back so your bare body laid on his.

"Let's wait to shower" he suggested, kissing your neck. Nodding your head no, he flipped you over on your stomach softly and trapped your legs with his. "Please?' He asked, leaning down on your level on the floor snd holding your chest in his hand. Agreeing, knowing what's about to happen you loosened up snd he turned you on your back.

His hands ran around your chest and thighs, leaning down to kiss your naked body as a slight moan came out. From there, he moved his lips to your mouth and softly moved yours to his hair. Taking note, you ran his fingers through his dark brown ones as the two of you danced with each other's tongue. Namjoon removed his lips snd traveled down south, gripping his hair in pleasure you moaned grinding your hips. Meanwhile, he took in a natural aroma, one he found arousing. Moving his tongue around the bud, he softly kissed your thighs leaving bruises.

Looking at your head tilting back snd eyes closed with heavy to light breathing. He took his pointer finger snd rubed softly in circles, moving his body to tower you with one arm. Noticing the shift of best around your neck, you felt his warm breath move down your neck and by your ear.

"Let me tell you something darling, I'm not who I say I am" he kissed around your neck, papering it in kisses. Hearing you moan, made him aroused by the minute. However he knew it was time to go back to the castle, only he wasn't going empty-handed. As your hands rubbed his back, he whispered "I'm Namjoon, they're looking for me, darling. Tonight the last night I can spend here so let's make it count" in a raspy tone.

In shock, he gave you a minute to calm down as he could hear your heart. "I'm sorry" he apologized.

"No need, but for whatever this may be for you. Just know I haven't done anything like this with anyone," you admitted. Humming he moved to the other ear and whispered "I like that, just know it will hurt after a few minutes snd then feel better or the pain could feel good!" he warned. Taking his warning, he gently rubed you as got on his knees and opened your legs wide. Watching as he did, you noticed he was fully erected at this point and ready. You closed your eyes snd tensed your muscles as he began to simply grind his tip into you.

He was right there was pain, which caused you to bleed a bit. However, it was enjoyable without a doubt. Soon he was able to put 6/9 inches in as he trusted slowly. Moaning under him, he moved his in circles biting his lower lip as looked at your fuller lips and leaned over and wrapped your legs around his waist. After a few moments of waiting for you to adjust, you thought about today snd how it was so obvious he was the king snd yet it flee by.

As you moaned loud, his thrusts began to speed up snd the two of you could hear the sounds of his hips banging into yours snd your ass as he went faster.

"Ah, baby!" He grunted, grinding into you deeply as your hands rubed into his hair. Morning louder, his lips conceded back to yours as you held on snd then to your neck where you heard his heavy breathing. Your body was tightening around him, as he went in deeper now putting himself in. Not to mention you began to pool around him which gave him more speed in the end.

"Namjoon!" You moaned in his ear, holding his back tightly as your legs unwrapped snd opened wider for him. Cursing under his breath, he went harder as you began to arch your bag in pleasure. He held onto your back as your head went backs and the build of pleasure built up quickly.

you held onto his muscular shoulders while he moved you closer to him to go deeper. With that sending you over the edge, you screamed his name in pleasure as yours and his breathing began to match in heaviness. Shopping for a second, namjoon looked you in your eyes and thrust slowly as he was too close and it felt too good.

"In close, but I don't wanna cum yet" he grunted, thrusting deeply in and out.

"Then cum when you can't hold it!" You urged, outta breathe enjoying the depends. "I'm fine with children" you explained. Nodding, he continued and went harder this time.

His mouth roamed your chest, sucking and pulling on the bud as your back arched and mouth open in response. You this time, grinded back cgroundhim to jolt forward and start panting.

"Fuck don't do that unless you-" you interrupted doing it again. Pushing your legs back and open wide he started hammering into you as you began screaming in both pleasure and slight pain. You scratched his back and he immediately let go of your thighs snd pushed your hands back. As your body began to shake under him, he went faster as his chest heaved in breathing and yours became flushed with red. He started to let his enjoyment show more and tilted his head back with his eyes close as he went faster. He allowed the sounds of your whimpering snd moans to fulfill his urge as his balls smack your body hard causing a loud moan to come out from him.

Moving his hips to go at a slightly different angle than before, he noticed you started dripping more and more causing your heat to became more and more pleasurable on his end. He leaned down to your chest and held you as he began moaning in ecstasy as a thick load covered your walls in white.

Stoping and catching his breath, he mouthed something so simple but daring and that was simple.

"Don't leave me"

To which you replied softly. "I won't"

Soon the both of you gained the energy to get in the tub. There you two conversate on what it was like for him to be the king and all, what he planned on doing, and where he wanted to do next.

"Please come back to the castle with me tonight?" He begged, holding his hands with yours.

" I don't wanna be a drag" you looked down.

"You won't, I promise you'll enjoy your new life" he stated happily as ever.

"Namjoon don't you think it's too fast, we just met and all." You mentioned.

"Right, that is an undeniable truth. However, I know you felt the same way I did snd I know this isn't a fairy tale. But I truly feel like we could have a life" he spoke, holding your hands to his chest. Yes, that was true, you did believe in fate snd everything. But this was soon and so much.

"I'll go, but you have to let me have the ability to leave, " you said sadly, bring you to his chest he nodded and turned your body around in the tub.

From there you two did what was needed and packed a small bag of hygiene snd the coffee from earlier to go. You two had to walk back to the castle without being seen or heard at all. Which called for a few close times of being caught, from there he showed you a secrete gate entrance that led straight towards his room. From there, he tried his best to pick you up and take you to his room. there which Mrs. Pot sat praying

"I'm home and I brought a guest" he mentioned putting you down. As she recognized Mrs. Pot, she immediately went to hug her.

"It's been a while, my dear, I remember when you were both sized. I see you ran into the king, ah I knew he would've found you. I mean he's always had an eye on elegance and beauty" she mentioned embracing you tightly and pinching her cheek the same way she did with namjoon.

"I'll tell the guards your home" she looked at namjoon winking. Itching his head as he smiled, he turned to you and stripped naked again.

This time he leaned on the top of you again and you immediately kissed back. "It's a yes" you knew immediately as he took off your clothes once again that same night. Only this time, he focused on filling you up till he couldn't anymore.

"Fuck, this is amazing" he cursed, moving his hips harder as you who was behind sensitive began moaning his name louder and louder. Your legs opened wider and pools of arousal soaked the bed, making him lose control once more in you before pulling you close and moaning in your neck. Spilling once more, he simply uttered

"I love you"

"I love you too"

[yellowsunflowerheart]

hey honey, me again<3 sorry to bother, but I just had some ideas and I really want to share and talk about them. Not complete, just something about Avengers are recruit new members, they're considering Stephen as a new member but actually, besides he's a powerful sorcerer, he's a complete mystery to them. And the story can be seen as how they know more about the real Stephen, the kind and gentle soul under the mask of indifference and alienation.(also this is how Tony gets to know him and then falls in love with him. I LOVE ironstrange sooooo much) I think he's been stuck in loneliness and too much responsibility for too long and I just want some hurt/comfort. Maybe he was too proud or too used to loneliness that he didn't know how to deal with the sudden earnest offer of help and care. He just had Cloak, Wong, America and Christine before, no more friends or family, I feel sooo sad and he deserves soo much love.T^T

And I think Peter can be the person who recommended Stephen to Avengers! Compared to others, I believe Peter knows Stephen more, since he may visit sanctum often after Thanos, got more time to know Stephen and soon liked Stephen.

Also, I hope America can be a great help to get Stephen out of his shell and start to accept others' kindness and help.(Oh I think Peter and America can be a great team! Stephen is too soft on these two kids~with their puppy eyes~awe,what can Stephen do hhhh) She might be very protective and suspicious first, because she didn't know them much and after what happend with Mordo, she worried Tony and Avengers might just show kindness first, and then would hurt Stephen or took use of him for their own purpose. But after sometime she will eventually be a great help, to Tony and Avengers both~

god sorry I talked soooo much, and these are complete mess too...I have quite a lot thoughts about this one and I believe it can be a slowburn multi-chapter fic. But due to some reasons I can't write them...So I hope I can share it with you, SORRY to bother you and thanks for your time to see these mess!!

( and of course, if you're interested and would like to take this as a prompt, I'll be sooooo honored and happy!)

I’m so sorry this has taken me too long to answer!

The SIZE of this ask made me GIDDY, before I even read it I was so invested!

The Avengers trying to lure Stephen in with money and tech and TEA, but Stephen won’t budge, and they don’t understand- better send Tony in to get the job done!

And Stephen frowns at Tony at first, but Peter’s with him, so Stephen is instantly polite and accomodating, fussing over the boy, inviting them out of the cold, and a drink for Peter and a blanket and- oh. Tony, dressed casually and somewhat of a guard down, being cute with Peter and it might just be doing things to Stephen.

It’s been a very long time since he’s had an adult relationship, okay?

And he’s so mad about it at first, but his attraction to Tony ain’t slowing down, so he slowly gives in to little things, like surprising the man by refilling his coffee, and doing favours without being asked and somehow he finds himself accepting an invitation to an avengers gathering at the compound.

And at first, he’s furious, at the end of his tether ready to snap, because he can still lift a salad bowl and pour his own wine, he’s not broken and useless, but then he realises, this is just family. It’s been so long since he’s had such a big one that he forgot what it’s like. People doing things for others, wanting nothing in return, just to be kind.

It takes the whole night for Stephen to melt into it, but he doesn’t hate the night. So, the next invitation comes along, and he asks if America can come too, and once he has the yes, there’s no backing out now, she’s too excited.

America doesn’t have a great concept of social skills- so she can be very forward and confident and not understand that Stephen likes to stay out of things and why he isn’t excited by gatherings. She’s just happy to go somewhere for once, and to meet the Avengers! See Tony and Peter!

America and Peter spend the night practicing and rating each other’s puppy eyes for when they ask Stephen for something later on. Meanwhile Stephen is all warm and rosy cheeks, because Tony’s hand is on his thigh while he’s telling this story from Titan, and it feels nice, being this close to someone, even if Tony hasn’t noticed yet and would surely wish to move away when he does.

But then Tony’s smiling at him softly, and his hand squeezes a little tighter, and Stephen lets himself hope for just a second. Maybe he could have this.

Stephen denies himself a few months more, sure that the hospitality and kindness is just a ploy to trick him into signing on to be an Avenger, and following all of their rules and regulations. Then Tony kisses him, and Stephen wonders if maybe he did die on Titan. Who would know? Tony Stark was kissing him.

And he kind of brushed Tony off, because he feels rather undeserving, and Stephen avoids him for days until Tony just rocks up on the doorstep of the sanctum, not with flowers, but with good cakes, and they talk, and Peter and America sit outside the door planning their life as siblings and they’re so happy and excited for their Dads™️

And Stephen joins the Avengers and he starts to grey much more quickly, because stressing over Peter, America and Tony is a lot. And he’s going to go white soon, but it might just be worth it to know that he’s there to protect them all.

All slowly, post-battle dinners actually start to excite him, and it’s fun being social when Tony’s at his side, and he’s always so proud of Peter and America he will talk anyone’s ear off about them.

It takes a whole, but Stephen does open up slowly, and he’s reminded that families are made, in all different shapes and sizes.

~

Also thank you, I’m really enjoying finishing off the ultimate supreme family fic with Doctor Dad Stephen who gets sick, and also the prompt you made of Stephen falling asleep everywhere, someone requested I write it and I’m really enjoying it! I’m hoping to have them finished soon, thank you for your patience work has been crazy!

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 10

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the support and feedback! I'm so glad you're enjoying this fanfic <333 Feel free to like, reblog and comment. Would love to hear more of your thoughts! Love u guys <3

CHAPTER TEN

Just like last time he was here, Bucky grabbed some cereal box, poured the contents on a bowl followed by a tall glass of milk dumped over, making a mess on the kitchen island like a ten-year-old kid. You just finished changing into some new clothes when he finished pouring the milk in the bowl.

You followed into the kitchen, pouring yourself a hot cup of coffee from Peter's new coffee maker he got just two weeks ago and cleaned the mess that Bucky had left.

"How is it," you started just as he was about to walk out, "that you can flawlessly make a drink without making a huge mess but not with a cereal?"

He plopped down on the couch and placed his feet on the coffee table and turned on the television. He shrugged in response, eating a mouthful. "I was just trying to impress you. You're Peter's best friend. I want you to like me."

You just hummed and sat down on the love seat as soon as you finished, lifting your knee to your chest and letting the warm liquid slide at the back of your throat, letting the caffeine sit in me. You gave him no response as you didn't know what else to tell him. You just gazed at him, watching him like a hawk, as he continued to take a mouthful.

But you weren't staring at him like you did before. You were, somehow, trying to read his mind because the person sitting right now on your couch felt and looked so much different from the person who kept giving you lingering stares at the bar. One moment he was complimenting your photos, and the next your face. It felt like there were two of him and you didn't know which one attracted you more.

No one had ever looked at your photos the way he did. No one had ever talked about your photos the way he did. And no one had ever succeeded in getting a sudden yet fleeting internal reaction from you by calling you "doll."

"It's rude to stare, doll."

Except Bucky.

You apologized, and averted your gaze from him towards the television screen which showed the news channel. You took a huge sip of your coffee and ignored the searing pain of the hot liquid on the roof of your mouth. That's gonna leave a mark.

You hibernated inside your room for the next few hours, watching some sitcom on your laptop. You would hear Bucky yelling at the television screen from time to time or into his phone. Some names unfamiliar to you were mentioned. You hated the feeling of isolating yourself from the world but here you were, cocooning because you didn't know how else to be around Bucky after what happened that one night.

Plus, it felt like you were a child stuck with your babysitter.

He would knock on your door, check up on you, ask you if you needed some snacks, or if you wanted to do anything else besides locking yourself up in your room. The last time he called out for you, he was asking you to lunch, to the little Italian place across the building. Starving, you agreed to come with him only if he paid.

He just shook his head with a smile on his face. "I feel like you're taking advantage of me."

"I am." You said, locking the apartment door behind. "It's not like everyday I'm out with a rich guy."

"You gotta stop calling me that. I'm not rich rich."

"Compared to me, Buck," you said, "you are. Come on, let's go, I'm starving."

Just as you anticipated, Marco was beaming at you two once you entered his place, clearing a way for you, parting the customers like Moses did with the Red Sea. He pulled out two chairs for you and Bucky. Marco, as you assumed, was more than happy to see Bucky and more of his money. Bucky shook hands with Marco, thanking him.

Once you ordered, you turned towards Bucky who was busy looking at the photos of the gorgeous places in Italy on the walls. There was a bridge of silence between you as you continued to stare at him, still trying to read him. He may be an open book but it felt like his pages were complete blanks. Pages that were deep, far away from the cover, hidden and hoping to never see the light of day.

"Hey, Bucky?" you said, grabbing his attention. "What did you mean that night? When you told me I was something else? And please, don't give me one of those 'you're not like most girls' crap." You gave a snort of disgust.

He chuckled, biting the inner part of his lower lip before speaking. "I wasn't, anyway. You just intrigue me, that's all."

You subtly glance at him. "I intrigue you?"

"Yes, honestly you do. And you're fun to be with. It's not everyday someone agrees with me to scare off a one night stand the first day we meet." He laughed. "And I would like to get to know you better. And not just here."

You knitted your brows together in utter confusion. "Wait, what do you mean not just here?"

He shrugged, his eyes leaving yours and looked at somewhere else besides you. "Like outside."

"Like outside?" You repeated, the realization dawning on you. "Bucky, are you asking me out on a date?"

Bucky lifted his head and proceeded to look at the spotty ceiling, his lips curved downward. "If you want it to be."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "I don't think it's a good idea."

Then, he shot his head towards you, an agonizing frown marring his perfectly chiseled face. "Why not?"

You could think of many reasons why it would be a bad idea. First, you haven't been on a date for a very long time. Every person who had asked you out never had the luck of receiving a good answer from you. Second, Bucky was a complicated man.

And third, it would feel like betraying Peter.

"You're Peter's stepbrother." You sighed, defeated. "I can't do that to him."

"Right. Peter."

Marco came just about damn time to give you your newly-cooked food. Bucky ordered the same thing he got last time he was here: an Aglio Oglio pasta, paired with two large slices of pizza and garlic bread while you got a footlong Italian sub dripping with Marco's secret family sauce he never dared reveal. Marco said something in Italian before going back to the counter to tend to other customers.

Bucky smiled at you before you started digging in and began to speak. "How about this? Just two friends hanging out, not in the apartment, not here, not even at the bar, and getting to know one another. No funny business. Just like this. How does that sound?"

"As long as you promise not to give me those weird creepy stares you've been giving me since last night."

"Please, you also couldn't keep your eyes off me." He rolled his eyes. "Plus, I do have to admit you do look hot making drinks." He scrunched up his nose, taking a bite of his pizza without his eyes leaving yours.

A wave of confidence surged right through you, prompting you to ask this next question: "Did the whole cleavage thing push things?" You winked.

Bucky tilted his head to the side, just like he did this morning in the apartment, swallowing his food. "I'm not gonna lie, doll, that was also pretty hot."

"You should thank my friend Nat for that then."

He smirked. "I'll be sure to. So, uh, are you in?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"Well, I don't know how you kids these days ask things. Is it like that? I feel like it is."

You rolled your eyes, chucking a piece of garlic bread to his face. "I'm not a kid. By the way, how old are you?"

"I'm turning thirty-nine next month."

"Thirty-nine." You repeated. "Wow, if we were to go on a date, you'd be the oldest guy I've dated."

"Well, I'd be honored."

After your little lunch, Bucky went back to his office in his penthouse to deal with a few things with his associates while you, on the other hand, headed to the bar and started to fix all the stuff accordingly. A few hours later, Nick and Nat silently creeped up behind you, scaring the shit out of you and nearly making you drop the bottle of whiskey you were holding. You scolded both of them which they just, in turn, shrugged off.

You pulled Nat into one of the booths, making sure you were out of Nick's sight and wouldn't be able to hear you.

"Bucky kind of asked me out on a date." You whispered.

"Holy shit, I knew it. I knew he has the hots for you!" She said with a voice louder than you would've liked.

"Sshh, keep your voice down! I don't want Nick to hear this."

"Oh right, 'cause of the whole thing."

"Yes." You replied. "So anyway, I told Bucky it wouldn't be a good idea because it feels like I'm betraying Parker."

"He's just his stepbrother. Honey, you wouldn't be betraying anyone at all."

"But Parker's my best friend -- "

"Exactly." Nat's eyes bore into yours. "He's just your best friend, not your boyfriend so go date whoever you want to date. Just not Nick. He's kind of a loser."

"Isn't there some kind of code?"

"Like a bro code?"

"Yes, something like that."

"Did you and Peter have an agreement that you shouldn't date his stepbrother?"

You shook your head no.

"Then it's okay."

"Isn't dating your friend's siblings a part of some unspoken rule?"

She rolled her eyes at you, obviously fed up with all the excuses you have been trying to make. "As long as you're not hurting anyone then it's fine."

An exasperated sigh came out of your mouth. "Well, Bucky seemed to kind of agree to it, so what was supposed to be a date turned into just friends hanging out and getting to know each other. His words, not mine."

"Right, and once you get to know each other, you two can go on expensive dates and such."

"I don't know, it doesn't feel right."

"Now, now, don't be too sudden with that thought. Deep down you kind of want this to happen. If you didn't, you wouldn't be having second thoughts about this."

Oh, what you would give to prove Nat wrong but there was nothing else you could give because you knew she was right. You were fleetingly staring at Bucky as much as he did with you. And right from the get-go, there was spontaneity which opened up a whole new thrill in you. Something you never thought you'd ever feel.

The rest of the night felt excruciatingly slow.

There were some familiar faces in the crowd and some unfamiliar ones brought in by the regulars, having fun on Saturday night. While you were taking orders and making drinks left and right, your eyes kept roaming in the nameless faces inside the bar, hoping to see Bucky but your hopes were crushed when you found no sign of him. You were forced to take your mind off him for once as you were flooded with more orders, and complicated drinks that weren't on the menu. In the middle of your shift, there was even a small argument between a college student and a man in his thirties at the pool table. Eventually, the man, assaulting the poor boy, got kicked out of the house by Steve which was just a piece of cake with all the muscles he was packing.

Steve approached you with a stern look on his face. "If you see that guy again, don't let him in anymore alright? I don't want any fights in my bar."

"Got it." You said, taking note of the man's face from earlier. You warned the other bartenders beside you and the waitresses going around. You sighed, thinking to all the times you've told Steve to hire bouncers for the place but he just said:

"What do you need bouncers for when I'm here?"

And it was kind of hard to argue with that because it did make sense. The only problem was he was always cooped up in that small office of his. You never bothered to learn the secrets he was keeping in there. He couldn't always be doing work stuff. But after a few weeks of working with him, it was best to let those things slide as he was your boss.

Once your shift ended, you texted Bucky where he was but you never got a reply. You exchanged numbers right before he went back to the White Wolf.

You were greeted by an unlocked apartment once you got there but there was no sign of Bucky.

"Bucky?" You called out his name as you removed your jacket and placed it on the coat rack just beside the door. "Are you here?"

Silence answered you back. You went into your room and changed your shirt into something a bit more comfortable: an oversized sweater. A few seconds after you changed, you received a message from Bucky telling you to go to the rooftop.

You immediately went up, the chilly New York air touching your cheeks. You emerged from the ladder with a bewildered look crossing your face. The once grimy floor of the rooftop was perfectly cleaned up, leaving no dust and dirt behind. There were two large crates in the middle, big enough for two people to sit on. On top of the crate were a large box of pizza (you assumed it was from Marco's), and two bottles of ice cold beer.

"What on earth?" You gasped, finding Bucky emerging from behind a big box just casually standing against the brick walls.

"Hey, doll." He greeted you with a cheeky smile.

You stepped towards him, enveloping yourself in a hug in an attempt to warm yourself up against the cool air. "Did you clean our rooftop?"

"I may or may not have. Who knows? Anyway, I got us some pizza. I figured you were hungry from your late shift."

As a matter of fact, you really were. Drained from the endless orders and demands, you usually didn't have the time to sneak a bite of food or even a sip of water.

"I got the pizza from Marco's. He's a really nice man and was more than glad to see me when I stopped by."

"Of course he was." you laughed, sitting down on one of the crates. You opened the box, your mouth already drooling from the sight of Marco's mouth-watering pizza. "He likes the dough. Ha! Get it?"

He rolled his eyes at you but with a hint of a small smile in his lips as joined you on the crates. "So, are you gonna spend the night in the apartment?" You asked.

"Yes."

"What, got another girl back in the penthouse?" You teased, nudging his shoulder.

He gave you a throaty, sarcastic laugh. "This time, no."

"Too bad. I was ready to give a performance of a lifetime." You chuckled, glancing at him sideways and catching him with a big smile on his face.

You looked around you. The only source of light you had was the city lights towering above, and ahead of you. "You know," you started, "if you hung those little lights on the walls or just above us, this would seem like a date."

He pretended to wipe some sweat off his forehead. "Phew, dodged a bullet over there huh?"

You giggled, tipping the cap off the ice cold light beer and bringing the top of the bottle to your mouth. The liquid felt cold in your mouth but soon warmed up, nestling inside your stomach.

"This is nice." you commented then started to ramble on some more. "It'd be nicer to see New York during sunset though. Ever since I got the night shift in the bar, I rarely do. It's all the traffic and bright city lights."

You painted Bucky a picture of the last sunset you've watched. You had no recalling memory when it was but you remembered it as another cold day (but not as cold as tonight). The colorful sunset hues plastered in the high skies. Seeing it from the rooftop felt like they could easily be reached, as if they were wanting to be touched. And without a warning, the sun started to go down millisecond by millisecond.

"To others, what happens after a sunset is just another sign of the darkness to come. And then poof, city lights." you continued, then proceeded to gesture at the sky. "But for me, the feeling after a sunset is what I love the most. The sun wallowed in serenity in the pale break of light in between those dark clouds forming. Ugh, I just love that."

"I see what you mean." Bucky hummed, withdrawing his eyes to the sky to look at you. "It's like an afterglow."

"Yes, like an afterglow." You agreed, meeting his intense gaze. "If seeing something so beautiful makes you feel good then the after of it all must be... more pleasurable."

"A lot of people tend to miss that detail after sunset." He replied. "But not you. You're a photographer, y/n. The details in nature, in people are some things you can never miss."

You just hummed in response, taking a huge sip of your beer. " So, when did your love for photography start?" Bucky asked.

"It started when I was young." You replied. "I would play around with my parents' digital cameras, take photos of literally everything around me, especially when we were on vacation. It was just a hobby then. I never thought of it as a means of living until I was in college. God, I hated business school. Every second of it. I just did it to make my parents happy but I really wanted to be out there, embracing people, embracing everything in life. It's like -- "

"Capturing people's stories in a different light?" He continued for you, as if reading your mind.

"Exactly." You smiled, quite happy that he saw it the way you usually did.

"If it wasn't for the hotel business I also would've been an artist. Maybe an actor."

"So, why didn't you?"

"Because business is all I know." He sighed. "Tony Stark, the guy who adopted me, taught me everything there was to know. As he was building his empire, he pulled me towards it and now, I'm running one of his hotels. Y'know, I don't think of him as a father or anything. More like a friend, a wingman."

And just like that, Bucky peeled himself like an onion. Slowly. Layer by layer by layer. But then he stopped. He opened his mouth to say more but then he decided to stop. You waited but nothing else came out. As much as he wanted to know you, you too wanted to know him — and not just his wild adventures but the things that were deeper than that.

It felt nice to talk to Bucky this way. Actually, it wasn't just nice. It was very comfortable that it gave you a warm sensation on your chest.

Seeing that he wasn't as comfortable as he was before opening up, you steered to a different topic. "Have you ever felt that kind of feeling?" you asked.

"What feeling?"

"The afterglow feeling."

"No," he chuckled, "I don't think so. I'm stuck in a routine, y/n. Business, party, booze, girls. Nothing exciting, nothing out of the ordinary. Everything's the same, everything feels like nothing after."

You agreed with him. "I guess I'm also stuck in a rut." You harmonized with his laughter, seeing your life flash before your eyes. "Cheers to that."

With that, you drank the night away.

[fanfiction-funtime]

Self insert oc: Alexander Vodka

AKA: Eis Cay'zar

Author of fate

A writer from Schneznaya who was driven from his home for his anti-Tsaritsa paper.

_____________________

Physical description:

A chubby fellow in a 1950's style noir trenchcoat and hat, some would even say he looks like he jumped right out of a noir comic book and into reality. He has brown hair and green eyes, a cowboy mustache, and a pointed beard like some kind of comic book supervillain genius.

He often acts confidently and even a bit egotistical when in places he's recognized and famous in, however in newer places he often seems distant and shys away from almost all contact.

Noone knows where his vision is, but they know he has one because of the cold aura that surrounds him.

At night he'll often trade his outfit for one more reminiscent of demons or vampires.

_____________________

Abilities:

Weapon type: Catalyst

Basic attack-truth: uses his catalyst to shoot a short burst of up to 3 ice shards, can attack in fast succession.

"Truth hurts, especially in bursts"

Charged attack-Bifrost: Alexander quickly makes an ice clone behind the enemy and fires 6 shots, this can increase to 3 clones if charged enough(times: 1 for 1 second, 2 for 2 seconds, and 3 for 2.5 seconds)

"I hate crowds, best company has always been myself"

Elemental ability-ice wall: creates an aura of sheer cold around himself that will damage enemies the more they stay in it, and apply the normal sheer cold to them. Does not affect party.

"My therapist said I put up walls because of trauma, but I couldn't hear them through the wall I had just built"

Elemental burst-a story to be told: Alexander takes out his book and opens to a random page, then randomly summons ice sculptures of one of 8 beings:

"Aster": this summon looks like the flatwoods monster, it surrounds the party in a swirl of ice blades that deal 2X damage as the character for 10 seconds.

"Who needs brawn, when you got brain"

"Ultimate foe": a demonic, pointy being of shadow. Will independently deal 25000 damage to three random foes.

"Meet my penultimate friend"

"Beethoven": a sculpture reminiscent of a ww1 zombie general, calls down a barrage of ice bombs that deal 5000 damage to enemies hit for 7 seconds.

"Good scifi doesn't predict, it prevents"

"Sorrows Joy": an angelic, faceless, robot like humanoid that spawns 25 angel shaped traps that freeze enemies around the character.

"With any luck, you're the only real one I've made"

"Death rider and the magic prince": two statues, one of a mummy like Schneznayan mystic of ancient barbarian times and the other an elven cavalry knight from the myths of mondstadt. The knight gives the party a 45% boost to speed and attack while moving, and the Schneznayan gives +10% damage bonus to elemental skills and +55% damage bonus to Catalyst.

"Feel the wrath of honor long passed"

"Zero point and Lion queen": a knightly man of spiked armor and a golden ottoman warrior woman whose golden chain completely obscures her head. Your enemies become inflicted with pyro and you are surrounded by thorn bushes that deal continuous damage of 1000 for 10 seconds.

"Walk down the way on a moonlit day"

The traveler: a child in a red straight jacket, his binds become undone after 4 seconds at which point all enemies take 10,000 X Alexander's level of damage.

"I uh,wont have to pay any copyrights will I?"

"Giota": a child in pyjamas who looks ready to sleep, this summon is very rare. It fully restores all party members and gives a 200% boost to both defense and damage of your characters.

"This fella's been with me since I was a kid"

"If it is a soldier's duty to escape the confines of a prison, is it not every person's duty to escape reality if even for a moment? A wise man said that, pray that I may one day be like him."

Passive-part the wasteland: Alexander is immune to sheer elements, and Grant's 50% resistance when in the party to all members.

_____________________

Story

Abandoning a dream

As a kid, Alexander was always put down when he said he wanted to write fiction, "there's no money in it" they all said.

He couldn't get into any art schools without support so he focused his mind elsewhere, a place he could hopefully use his writing to do just as much good: the first newspaper in Schneznaya.

Horrible truth

He didn't start as a trouble maker, but the more he sought out the truth the more he couldn't stand back and watch. He published numerous papers about the Tsarista's wrongdoings and the crimes of the fatui, how they would harass merchants in other nations, the unfair taxes many shipping businesses had to keep quiet about, all the way up to the war crimes the Tsarista had done in direct contradiction to her own laws.

Sadly, not many believed him even with evidence, but some got his message.

Those who fight

One day Alexander was approached by a man who claimed to have formed a resistance against the fatui. Alexander had inspired many people to disrupt the organization, and have even begun working with those outside Schneznaya.

With their help he didn't just publish some crimes, he published them all, he even got information that turned the general public against the fatui even if just a little.

In a way h had achieved his dream of helping others with his writing, even if it wasn't how he wanted.

Stop the presses

When the Tsarista started her big move of taking gnosis, she brought the hammer down on dissent like a boulder on a ten year old's wrist. One day a squad of thirty fatui stormed Alexander's home and business to silence him, and while they shut down his business they couldn't catch him.

Alexander fled into the wastelands of ice and snow and wasn't seen for several weeks.

Deus ex Vodka

One day Alexander showed up in Inazuma, a nation that had been oppressed for some time now and had recently reached it's height, yet no resistance had formed.

That was until Alexander came along.

Alexander published numerous books, spreading them throughout Inazuma. All of them spoke of freedom, of bravery, of rising up to achieve your ambitions.

And with those stories he inspired countless to take up arms, and in turn inspired countless to join the resistance.

And with mere fiction he had brought about hope,

And with mere fiction he shall do it again, in every form, and in every nation.

Vision: cold hearted

While wondering the waste Alexander fell down and looked to the skies.

He did not ask celestia why, he did not grieve or blame that he did not do more, instead Alexander did something he hadn't done in a long time:

He imagined.

And after he imagined he took out his notebook and wrote. In the freezing cold for seventeen days he wrote stories of hope and freedom.

For seventeen days the cold did not so much as cause him to flinch as he wrote tales of bravery.

For seventeen days Alexander Vodka lived how he wanted to live.

And at the end, he lied down to die.

Then a light shown, and when he opened his eyes to look he saw that the storm parted around him, and in his hand was an ice blue gem.

But Alexander was too paranoid from years of abuse from his peers as a child to wear it loosely, and far to extra to just get a lock. So instead Alexander shouted to celestia "if I shall have this Vision for my art, then it shall not kill me no matter what I do!"

He then shoved the vision into his heart and fell down.

Before he could bleed out however, a woman appeared.

"Hey Tsari, how ya doin." Alexander said as blood poured out his mouth.

"You dramatic fool," the Tsarista sighed as she put a hand on his chest, "you have my element, do you know how bad it'll look for me if you die by shoving your vision into your heart?"

"Why do you care? We hate eachother, in case you forgot."

The archon sighed, "you're just rebelling against what you see as unjust, just as I am. To be honest I feel a sort of rivalry with you, so it'd be a shame if you just died. Also," she painfully shoved the vision all the way in, painfully, "if your going to die it better be because of me, got it?"

Then Alexander sat up, and the god was gone. Along with the hole in his chest.

"Rival of a god eh?" He sat up, putting his gat back on his head, "I like the sound of that."

_____________________

How is this an insert?

Well his story can't be the exact same as mine, so I took my life and goals and made predictions, then fictionalized those predictions and expanded.

His appearance is pretty close to how I'll likely look based on my current appearance, and his dramatic attitude is exactly how I wanna act.

Him being shy in new places with strangers is me exactly as I am now really, however I do believe I'd act confidently if I were famous so he does as well.

Him being Catalyst is because I'm not athletic at all, and I figured a dps Catalyst would be cool. His main ability and resistance/immunity to sheer cold is based on how I wrap up in warm blankets when it's cold, and his ultimate is made up of characters I've made.

_____________________

Tagging: @genshin-obsessed, @golden-wingseos, @storytravelled, and @love-psxlm

[littlemspeachy]

This Conversation is Getting Older and Older

Part Two of You Keep Me Waiting 

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Murder, A character is racist 

Word Count: 3.8K (Yup y’all are getting more to read)

Draco stares at where Hermione was once stood and sighed before muttering a repairing spell that fixes the broken picture frame, then came organizing his notes for Yazmeen while he was out.

"Hey, Draco, it's Yazmeen. I came for your notes on the death eater case," Yazmeen announced, peeking into his office.

Draco shot the younger girl a smile. "Yeah, I was getting them cleaned up for you. I know how much you hate having to work with illegible writing."

She laughs and shakes her head. "It's fine, you're fine. It's other people on this floor I have to worry about. But um.."

Draco looks up at her, an eyebrow raised.

"Nevermind, I'll talk to you when you get back."

Draco nods and hands over his revised notes. "Take good care of them. They're the only kind."

"I'm pretty sure that I can read your actual notes. But thank you anyway."

Draco smiles at her and watches her leave before grabbing his things and following after her.

"You know, for such a smart wizard, I came in here easily." She says coldly.

Draco pauses in his living room, unsure how to start the conversation.

"Daphne, I made it sure you could come in."

"You need to sign them," Daphne says, pulling a pen from her purse and setting it down on the divorce papers laid out before her.

"Not before my father dies," He responded, voice tight.

"I don't really care about your feelings about your father, and he's practically a shell of a human anyway. Why do you think he's back at the manor?" She shot back, staring pointedly at Draco.

Draco stays quiet because she's right: His father doesn't do anything but look outside to the garden, and he isn't improving his mother's health either in fact, she's gotten worse because of his father being back/ He was thinking of killing him, but after working in law enforcement he wasn't sure how that was going to work.

"Just sign the papers. This isn't for you; it's for me, so get over yourself." Her voice annoyed at how long this situation was taking her.

He sighs because she was right: He was being selfish. Making them stay married even though they haven't been in the same room for longer than 10 minutes in the past 8 years unless it was an event that was centered around his mother. So he walks over to sign the papers.

"Your mother misses you, you know, and she wants an explanation."

Draco pauses the signing of his last mane to look at the woman in front of him before he goes back to signing his last name.

"I don't know why you continue to visit her."

"Because at least one of us to maintain the image of a proper person. We all can't go running around like children on the playground."

Draco rolls his eyes equally as annoyed at his now ex-wife. "Listen, here're the documents, just send me an owl with a court date, and I'll make sure to be there."

Daphne just sighed and slipped the papers into her purse, and leaves through the front door. "You need to talk to her. Also, I poured out the tea. It was getting old.

Draco simply stares at her leaving, leaving his house and his life.

Maybe it was better this way.

He steps out of Hermione's fireplace and into a living room. A room that he knew way too well for simply being fuckbuddies with her roommate.

"I thought you had better wards up 'mione." A familiar voice commented from the other room.

"I did. It was Yazmeen who let him in." Hermione said, watching Draco step out of her fireplace. Fred followed her gaze and watched as Draco got reacquainted with the apartment. Draco noticing their gaze on him.

"Are you two just going to stare at me? If so, I could've met you at the train station," Draco commented, annoyed.

Fred laughs. "Some people never change. I'll see you when you get back," Fred said, smiling at the brown-skinned woman. He pauses at the door. "Keep her safe, Malfoy."

That, for some reason, catches him off guard, but he manages to get out a quick, yeah.

Hermione watched Fred leave before turning back to the blond-haired man who has moved out of her living room.

"You ready to go? I need to call a cab." Hermione asked.

"Yeah, I'm good. Don't know about you, though... Seemed a bit preoccupied." He shrugs, back turned away, looking at some artwork on the wall.

Hermione doesn't validate the statement and instead goes to call a cab. "One is in the area, and it'll be here in about 3 minutes."

Draco doesn't respond, so they exist in silence before Hermione asks, "You've been here plenty of times.. You don't stay over like you used to?"

Draco turns quickly to face the curly-haired woman. "Yeah, unlike like some of us, we have work to do."

"Now, what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It's obvious half your stuff isn't here, and with Fred being over, I'm going to assume it's at his place?"

All Hermione does is glare before going to look outside to her window. She notices the yellow cab outside, and instead of telling him of the new development, she simply grabs her bag and leaves but unfortunately for her, Draco is a smart man, and he quickly follows after her.

The ride to the train station is filled with tension and silence. Draco likes to think that he wondered if he overstepped a boundary, but then he remembered that he could care less about how he picked at her sex life. If she wanted to do that to him, he could do the same to her. But due to that pettiness, nobody spoke until they were on the train and even then, there wasn't much talking done.

"How are you?"

Hermione glares at him from her seat before rolling her eyes, annoyed at the question "You left me Draco,"

"You left me too; this wasn't a one-person thing,"

"So when were you going to tell me you were married?"

"I wasn't then, and I'm not now."

"Tell that to the gossip magazines."

"Tell that to the gossip magazines that wrote back to back articles about you and Krum? Since when did you listen to them? Also, when did you start caring for me outside of the bedroom?"

"I don't know but stop asking like you weren't the one knocking on my door at first."

The silence informs them both that neither of them have been good. Not that they were ever good, especially not back in college. Running to each other to find something familiar only to go back to hating each other the next day. That's what made the sex good, they both think. Too much passion made anything feel good during the moment, but it's in the morning that you have to wonder whether it was really worth it.

"So are you with him now? You hop from one ginger dick to another?

"Oh, I didn't know you were ginger, and it seems like we're both following patterns."

That one shuts him up because he realizes that he hasn't changed and only moved on to her intern, whose skin looks like the woman's sitting in front of them when the sun hits it just right.

"Also, I don't mind you having sex with Yazmeen, but having sex with every black woman in our office is.... A bit suspicious."

Draco doesn't know how to respond to the claim, so he simply changes the topic "Are you going to Harry's wedding?"

Hermione's eyes snap from the blond man to the window across from him. "Of course, I'm the maid of honor."

Draco isn't really surprised by the admission, "What an Honor. But you know it's surprising that she gave birth before being married."

"Not really.. Might have been going at it for a while, but unlike you, he can stay committed."

"What are you so mad at me for?"

"I don't know?  How about we start with the fact that you left Daphne right after getting married, only to start sleeping with me 3 months later. And then lying to her about it. She thought you loved her; I mean, sure, we all knew it wasn't going to last. But she wanted to at least make it work. But there we were fucking in the backseat while she was in the store."

"Listen, it takes two, don't pretend like you're innocent." He shot back-way too quickly for a man who wanted to seem unaffected from the claims.

"That would be a good claim, but there you were in my bed way past time for you to go, talking to me about the future and how uncertain you were and all that other bullcrap only for you to be in a dedicated marriage. It'd be a bit different if you both didn't give a damn."

Draco sat in silence because she was right. Always right.. Never wrong. Never wrong in the classes they were and certainly never wrong about the life they lived

"Well, we're getting a Divorce... to legalize the situation."

Hermione glares at him. "So that's what makes this better? A divorce after what? 5 years?"

Draco wants to say yes, but after knowing the woman sitting next to him for the past 18 years, he knows a warning sign he sees one, so he drops the subject.

They both know that they'll need to talk about this again, and they didn't need to read tea leaves for that. But just like tea, it can only steep for so long before becoming bitter, or maybe they were past that stage, and it just needed to be poured out.

The train comes to their stop, and they go to a cab that was already waiting for them; they both think that even though Sanchez is annoying and strict, he still knows how to be hospitable if hospitable meant a very homely looking hotel.

"Is this it? The place we're supposed to be staying?" Draco asked, voice full of disgust.

"Yea, this was the address given to me by Sanchez."

Hermione and Draco stared at the small white and brown homely inn that looked like its been around since the dark ages.

"Let's go. It's only a night." Hermione whispered, giving a nudge to Draco.

They climb out of the car and were preparing to go in before the driver rolled down the window. "I'm going to be here by 6 tomorrow evening to take you back to the train station and if need to floor just tell the lady at the desk and she'll help you. Good Luck."

They nod before walking in and realizing that the inside looks exactly like the outside. Homely and cold-one of the great perks of being in a city next to the water.

"Check-in for Sanchez," Hermione said, smiling at the hostess.

Draco stayed in the back and looked around, hoping to see something that would indicate the age of this inn, but unfortunately, nothing stood out but a pattern in one of the supporting beams.

"Hey, got the key," Hermione says, jingling the key in his face before walking down the hallway where the supposed hotel room was.

"15, 25, 35, and 45 is the lucky number."

"Why are the doors numbered like that?"

"I don't know you're the pureblood you tell me,"

Draco rolls her eyes at her response. "Why the hell would I know that?"

"The wizarding world is a weird place, and rich kids are supposed to be cultured," Hermione joked before seeing their bedding situation. "Of fucking course, how brilliant."

Draco was confused by her sudden change of tone until he saw what she was talking about: One bed.

One medium-sized bed in a room that was freezing cold.

As Draco starts to say something, Hermione cuts him off. "Listen, we can talk about this later," Hermione sighs before setting down her bag. "I'll go down and call us a cab to the station."

Draco watches her walk away with only her purse, confused as to why she never lets him talk. But he dismissed the thought when he casted a quick charm to keep their bags safe.

They get to the station and head over to sign in at the front desk "Officer Granger and Officer Malfoy is here to talk to... Your head officer, officer Pearce I believe, is the name, about the recent killings." Hermione says confidently while leaning slightly on the wooden desk.

"Why does he look so confused?" an officer asks while coming up behind the secretary that was checking her computer for confirmation.

"Listen, he doesn't do fieldwork; he does office stuff. This is his first time. Give him a break," Hermione confides, laughing slightly at the Blond man's facial expression.

The officer laughs and checks the computer that shows the confirmation. "Alright, let me check your IDs, and I'll get you guys back there." Draco and Hermione gave their IDs to the officer, and he nods that suggests they follow him to the back.

"Have you seen any pictures of the body? or any of the bodies?" Draco asks. He hasn't seen a dead body since the war, and even though it's been 10 years, the sight of them still can keep him up for days. He wonders how Harry moved on. He thinks he should ask him.

"No, we were only asked to get the statement from the old lady, and even then, it's a bit spotty."

"Well, can you fax a copy to our office so that we have a hard version in London? We're not going to take long." Hermione says, her voice more determined than usual.

"Yeah, I can do that for you. Alright, here's his office, by the way, he doesn't like this kind of stuff, so... You gotta be smart." The officer they were following says before knocking on a door that had the name of Anthony Pearce.

"Come in." A baritone voice commands from behind the door.

"Alright, good luck."

Hermione and Draco give the optimistic officer a nod before heading into the office.

"Hello Officer Pearce, we are investigators sent from London to talk to you about the report that was given to you after a recent murder against a young woman," Draco says, looking around the office before landing on the officer's face.

Hermione thinks that the officer looks like one of the men from Mama Mia.

"So when did they start sending in young ones with fancy outfits to deal with murder cases?" He inquired before lighting a cigarette.

"We aren't dealing with the murder it's self we're just trying to find out about the... uh.. designs being left on the bodies of the victims. I'm officer Malfoy, and this is my partner Granger." Draco shoots back at the man. He knew they were young for their field; there was no denying that, but they were good at their jobs, and there will be no one that questions that, muggle or not.

Officer Pearce raises a brow before tapping his cigarette into the ashtray. "Is that so? If you're only dealing with the designs, why do you want the lady's statements?"

"We want her statements because she was the last one to talk to the lady that was most recently killed, and she could possibly tell us some information that could help us understand what's going on," Draco responds with a slight huff.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Dracos body language 'how immature. You don't hold any power out here, pretty boy.'

"If that's the case, I could've just sent the report to your office. Why come all the way here for something we could've faxed you?" The older man responds, a demeaning edge to his voice.

"Because we're going to interview the woman tomorrow, and since we were in the city, we decided to question you directly. But if you don't want to comply, I can and will have you arrested for obstruction of justice." Hermione responds, a clear tone of annoyance in her voice.

Pearce stares at Hermione and then looks at Draco. "You should keep her around; she gets stuff done. And I'll get you the interview report, and I can't tell you anything because I didn't conduct it and what was said was nothing out of the usual... But I have received some pictures of the, uh, drawings." He says before going through a drawer and bringing out a manila folder.

"Can we look at them?" Hermione asked softly.

"I can make you a copy," He says, putting out his cigarette before heading over to the printer. "Now, why'd you come here? These murders have been happening for a while."

"It's because our office thought these were stand-alone cases. It's London.. And unfortunately, people get killed all the time." Hermione says slowly, making her seem sadder than she actually was.

"Understandable, but Liverpool does have its crime.. Luckily we're not in the city, so it's a bit easier for us." Pearce says before handing Draco the first page.

"If you don't mind me asking... Why were you so resistant to us knowing the information?" Draco asked, passing the page to Hermione.

"Because whoever is doing this is getting off scot-free. And they're sick cunts too. Imagine, instead of just killing the bloke, you carve patterns into their skin. I tell ya it's some of them, refugees."  Pearce says, handing them the next two copied pages.

Hermione looks up from the pictures. "Sir, this is obviously not Arabic. And it's interesting that a cop that is supposed to serve his community has those kinds of feelings for the people he's supposed to be protecting."

"Nah, none of them live around here, and a good thing too. Don't want them to be committing crimes and stuff." Pearce says, walking back to his desk and lighting another cigarette.

Draco noticed the fist tightly wrapped around the paper before speaking up. "Thank you for your time here, sir... If we hear anything thing new, we'll make sure to let you know."

Pearce simply nods before going off into his own world as they left.

"What a fucking bigot." Hermione angrily whispered. Draco stayed silent shocked at the bluntness of the officers' rudeness, but then he realized that his father was the same towards muggles.

They walked to the front and thanked the secretary, and then went to an empty-looking coffee shop across the street.

"My father was like that, wasn't he?" Draco asks while they were sitting down in their chosen seats.

Hermione looks up from the small menu provided at their table. "You think?"

Draco drops the subject before reaching over and grabbing the files.

"How may I help yous?" A bubbly waitress asked Hermione, almost completely ignoring Draco.

"I would like a cup of coffee, straight please." Hermione says with a smile that makes the younger girl blush.

"And I would like a cup of earl grey and some of the strongest stuff you have." Draco says dryly.

The waitress doesn't respond but jots the items down. "That'll be right out."

Draco watches the waitress retreat to behind the bar. "What the hell was that about?"

"Aww, are you mad that you didn't get attention?" Hermione teasingly giggled while picking up her well used legal pad.

Draco didn't respond.

"Hey, Malfoy, do you work with still work with ruins, or are your college years being wasted on artifacts?" Hermione asks, laying out the pictures in front of her.

"Mainly artifacts and studying the charms people put on them," He responds before the waitress came over.

"Here is your drink and alcohol, and your drink, ma'am, is still being made." The waitress says in a light, bubbly tone.

Hermione nods in recognition, but her brows stay furrowed in concentration.

The waitress leaves before Draco speaks up again, clear liquid in hand.

"Don't drink that right now," Hermione says, quickly looking up and snatching the glass of clear liquid. She sniffs if before confirming. "It's moonshine.. That's some powerful stuff, and if you want to coherent while researching, then I suggest you leave that for later." Hermione informs before pulling out an empty flask.

Draco looks at her curiously before pouring the clear liquid into the flask.

"Look, they didn't die graphically. There's no blood if that what you're worried about." Hermione says, looking up at the blond across from her.

"No..That's- I just.. If something big happens when we're on this case, we're going to become much more than researchers, and I just- I left the field for a reason, and I really don't care to be put back in. I was perfectly fine at my desk and perfectly capable of what I was doing."

Hermione looks at him deeply at him before looking back down at the ruins. "That's wonderful to know, and I understand I really do, but we've been working under Sanchez since our internships. And I know that he's smart enough not to let his head researchers go into the field blindly just to get killed. He knows we can handle ourselves out here. Meaning you gotta start trusting yourself. Plus, after this, we'll probably get a nice vacation offering once we're done, so suck it up and let's figure this out before more people die."

Draco sips on his tea, considering the words of the intelligent woman in front of him.

"Here's your coffee, ma'am... Buy the way it's on the house." The waitress interrupts, setting down the requested coffee.

Draco rolls his eyes at the "sincere" action before grabbing his wallet and handing the young woman 100 pounds. "Keep the change."

Hermione gawks at the exchange but doesn't voice her comment until the woman goes away.

"Do you know how much money that is?"

Draco sends her a confused look before replacing his wallet with his glasses. "All right, what are we looking at."

"Well, firstly, you're starting to look like Harry for one. I get you both are basically office mates but geez. And secondly, I think it's Egyptian. Like something found in tombs, but then there's more stuff that I can't really think of... Maybe Mayans?"

Draco grabs a pictured and stares before shaking his head. "Possibly, but there seems to be a mix of several curses among the charms. Those are most certainly from Egypt, and that's probably how the doctors died," He says before grabbing another picture. "Yeah, because they look like hieroglyphics, and so they decoded them and then cursed themselves. But how he got them on the body is what's' really confusing."

Hermione nods before asking, "Don't you have tea with you?"

"Yeah, but I know it's cold, and so I got a new cup."

A new cup indeed.

[alj4890]

Misfortune's Intentions

(Liam x OC* Elisse Mallin) (Drake x Riley) in a Choices The Royal Heir fan fiction

A/N This idea came to me one night when I couldn't sleep. In this version from The Royal Heir, it has been nearly three years since Riley married Drake. Their infant daughter, Hope, was named heir to Cordonia's crown. Liam considers the possibility of dating after pining for Riley all these years. Elisse is a noble and first cousin to Queen Amalas of Monterisso. She will eventually become an ambassador, settling in Cordonia to continue Amalas's alliance. She also has a small bit of significant history coinciding with Liam's social season. This first part though will take us through the past for our main characters.

Not sure who to tag for this new miniseries, LOL. Let me know if you want to be added.

Masterlist

Prologue

Two years ago, Cordonia...

"To keep people's attention away from your brother's," Constantine's voice hardened, "decision to abdicate," his fist clinched for a moment, "we will have you participate in a season for a potential bride."

Liam swallowed uncomfortably. He knew there was a possibility his father would insist on this particular custom. He had hoped though that like Leo, he would be given a few years reprieve before he had to choose a bride.

Constantine fought through the chest pain he hid from everyone as he continued to explain what the next few months would be like for his only obedient son.

"We will have the usual bevy of ladies from Cordonia's noble houses. Perhaps sprinkle a few from other countries to appease the people."

"Yes sir." Liam mumbled when his father seemed to silently demand his agreement. "Whatever you think is the best way to move forward."

"Good." Constantine waved toward the door. "You may go. We will make our announcement tomorrow."

Liam bowed his head in acceptance. Still in a state of disbelief as he made his way to his chambers, he didn't hear his best friend calling his name.

"Liam?" Drake jogged to catch up to him. "I heard about Leo. Is it true?"

The new crown prince waited to answer until they were behind closed doors.

"It is." He rubbed a hand down his face. "Leo abdicated."

Drake poured them both a drink. He observed the slight tremble in Liam's hand as he took a healthy gulp of whiskey. Eyes closed briefly as he gathered his thoughts.

"I--I'm going to have to get married."

"What?" Drake breathed in disbelief. "Why?"

"All part of being king." Liam's lips twisted in a bitter smile.

He rolled his glass between his hands as he stared down at its contents. "I have to choose one during this year's social season."

"You have to go through all that Leo did?" Drake asked.

"Yes, but unlike his, I won't know who I'm supposed to choose." Liam grimaced as he swallowed the rest of his drink. "Madeleine had been chosen years ago by Father and Regina. The competition was mostly for the public's entertainment than to actually choose a queen."

Drake slumped back in his chair. "I'm sorry, Liam."

"It's..." He got up to pace, "it's fine. It's an honor to have a chance to serve my country. To marry and have a family...perhaps life will be better."

Perhaps this palace will feel like a home, he thought.

"When will it be announced?"

"Tomorrow."

"So soon." Drake murmured.

Liam briskly nodded.

His closest friend held his glass up in a toast. "Here's hoping, Liam."

*****************

Monterisso Royal Palace, a week later...

"Elisse." Amalas hugged her cousin. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

"Of course." Elisse took the offered chair. Her eyes dropped down to the baby bump showing. "How are you feeling?"

"Good." Amalas gently patted her tummy. "This baby has finally decided I'm not the enemy and has agreed that food is definitely a good thing."

Elisse laughed, shaking her head at her cousin's humor.

"But enough about the spoiled future king or queen I’m having." Amalas handed over a letter with Cordonia's royal seal. "Read this."

Elisse scanned the invitation, eyes widening slightly. "Prince Leo abdicated? Do we know why?"

The spy queen chuckled. "You know I do." She leaned over and grabbed a file off her table. "Let's just say that the former crown prince did not want the responsibilities that went along with the crown."

Elisse opened the file and snorted. "I've heard that Lady Madeleine can be difficult to deal with."

"That along with wanting his freedom to wander the earth like a rich playboy are his reasons." Amalas pointed out a photograph one of her agents snapped recently on a cruise ship. "This woman, Katie, is an even bigger reason."

"They're engaged?" Elisse whispered in disbelief. "He didn't waste any time, did he?"

"No, he did not." Amalas reclined in her chair. "Elisse? What would you think of Monterisso gaining an alliance with Cordonia?"

"I think it would benefit our country as well as theirs." She replied, setting Leo's folder down.

Another folder was handed to her. Her lips curved into a soft smile at the pictures of Cordonia's new crown prince. Each aspect her cousin found on Liam had made him a man she thought she would enjoy meeting.

"Marriage is the easiest and strongest alliance one can have with a foreign power."

Elisse looked up. "You're suggesting  I take part in Prince Liam's search."

"Exactly." Amalas smiled at her. "I can't think of a better queen for Cordonia than you." She reached over and grasped her hand. "But feel free to say no. I won't force you to do this if you do not wish to."

"I would like to meet him." Elisse admitted. She lowered his eyes to his picture. "He is very handsome."

"You always did like blue eyes." Amalas teased.

Elisse bit back a smile. "I do."

"Would you like to attend Cordonia's social season?"

Elisse slowly nodded. "Yes, I think I would."

Amalas picked up the letter from Constantine. "I'll go ahead and schedule your health exam."

"My what?" Elisse blinked in surprise.

"Cordonia's king isn't taking any chances that his last possible heir marries a woman unable to have children." Amalas grinned at her cousin. "Lucky for him that our family is notorious for our reproduction abilities."

Elisse laughed. "Our mothers certainly came from a large family." Her smile turned tender. "Whenever I think of my future, I always see myself with three or four children."

*****************

A few weeks later, Cordonia, the King's study...

"Have you made a list of those that are participating?" Regina asked her husband.

"I have." He handed her a sheet of paper.

The Queen scanned the names. "What happened to the Monterisso viscountess? I thought from Queen Amalas's letter that they were hoping to make a match."

Constantine's lips firmed in a disappointed frown. "She cannot have children."

Regina's countenance fell. "How tragic."

"Indeed." He replied. "It would have been a profitable match for us." He released a resigned sigh. "I suppose we now settle for Madeleine to take the crown again."

***************

The viscountess's chambers, Monterisso Palace...

"Elisse." Amalas pleaded. "Please, talk to me."

The young viscountess shook her head. Tears fell silently as she clutched a pillow to her stomach. Her thoughts were too much for her. All the plans she had dreamed of as a little girl were destroyed from one simple examination.

All from thinking Liam had beautiful blue eyes and seemed like a nice man she could easily fall for.

A choked sob burst forth as she doubled over from the pain of it all.

"Elisse." Amalas tried to wrap her arms around her. "I'm so sorry."

Elisse knew her cousin was. She knew Amalas would move heaven and earth for her if she could. Unfortunately, there were some things even a powerful queen could not do.

"We'll call in every specialist we can find." Amalas whispered, gently rocking Elisse. "I refuse to believe--"

"Stop!" Elisse cried out. "Please stop." Her anguished eyes met her cousin's. "I can't continue to hear doctors say that it is impossible."

"It's not." Amalas argued. "I can’t believe you are unable to--"

"I only have one ovary!" Elisse snapped. "It is so damaged from the endometriosis and benign tumors that I'm lucky to have a period every few months." She looked down at her worthless womb. "Even my uterus is filled with fibroids to the point they have warped it beyond repair. Surgery won't help." She wiped angrily at her tears. "No one will marry me now."

"That's not true! You--"

"Amalas, you know what nobles need." Elisse bit out. "They need heirs. They need a woman to fulfill that role. I'm completely obsolete in our world now."

She turned away from her cousin's sudden tears. She didn't want her pity. She didn't want anything except those elusive images of cuddling her own children.

If she could turn her mind off and focus on something else, anything else...

"I'm going to go away for a while."

Amalas jerked upright. "What?"

"I need to be alone." Elisse turned to face her. Her eyes filled with tears when her gaze dropped down to her cousin's ever growing baby bump. "I need to come to terms with all of this."

"Will you back in time for..." An expression of guilt flickered over the queen's face for such a selfish question.

"I'll try." Elisse hedged. "I promise."

She knew Amalas depended on her. Though the two had numerous cousins sprinkled in various titled positions all over Europe, they had always had a special bond that made them more like sisters. Perhaps it was their mothers' doing that made certain they would always have the other close at hand.

But Elisse knew deep down, she would have been close to her cousin without any outside influence. The notorious Queen of Spies distrusted most people, even some of their blood relatives. Yet, she trusted Elisse with everything.

She hated to leave her during her pregnancy, but the viscountess didn’t think she could take being around an expectant mother right now.

Amalas hugged her once more. "I'll arrange your travel. But I insist you take Felix with you as a bodyguard." She waited on Elisse's agreement. "Let me know where and when you wish to leave."

"I don't care where." Elisse whispered. "Just as long as I can leave as soon as possible."

***************

New York City, a month later...

"One nondescript bar as requested." Maxwell announced, holding the door open.

"Steaks for the table!" He yelled out.

"And four whiskeys!" Drake chimed in.

Riley rolled her eyes at Daniel. "You're really going to leave me with these guys?"

"I promise I'll work two of your shifts whenever you want." He bargained.

She let out a tired sigh. "Make it three and we have a deal."

He shook her hand. "You are brutal with negotiations."

She laughed, piled the tumblers of whiskey on her tray, and headed for the bachelor party.

She passed three drinks out. "I thought there were four of you."

"There are." Drake winked at her, causing a blush to form on her cheeks. "Right behind you is number four."

She turned around and blinked.

He's so handsome.

Liam smiled at her. "Pardon me, Miss?"

"Hmm?" She shook herself out of her daze. "Of course."

His smile flashed, making her knees feel slightly weak. "If you would..." He gestured toward his seat that she was blocking.

Her cheeks flared even more with color. "Right. Sorry."

She decided then and there to not allow her eyes to rest on him the remainder of their time here.

A few hours later, Liam approached her.

"Thank you for being so patient with us." His charming smile was a bit bashful. "I don't suppose I could repay such kindness with buying you a drink."

Riley found herself mesmerized by his blue eyes. "Where were you planning on going next?"

"I actually hoped you could help with that." He rubbed the back of his neck. "The guys hoped to go to a nightclub."

Her nose wrinkled. "I say forget the nightclub. There's a beach cove I could show you that is just the place to unwind."

"That sounds perfect." He held his hand out. "Shall we?"

****************

Six months later, Edenbrook Hospital, Boston...

Elisse chewed on her lower lip, wishing she could hear what the group of doctors were saying behind the glass partition.

After taking her file and passing it to a man in surgical scrubs, Dr. Ramsey walked back into her room.

"Ms. Mallin, after further examination," his expression gentled, "I believe your doctors in Monterisso were correct."

Elisse lowered her eyes. "I see."

"I still want to perform the surgeries we discussed." He sat down beside her hospital bed. "The severe pain in your uterus will only increase if we don't remove the fibroids. Dr. Tanka isn’t sure though how it will be after your surgery."

"Whatever you think." She closed her eyes tight. "It doesn't really matter what shape it is in. I suppose we should just remove it altogether."

Her doctor rested his hand over hers. He waited patiently for her to make eye contact.

"We won't know for certain until Dr. Tanka gets in there, but we believe we can save your ovary."

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "By all means, hold on to that worthless body part."

His brow furrowed. "Elisse, I don't like the thought of you in this state of mind before surgery."

"I'm sorry." She replied automatically. "I don't mean to sound like this." Her gaze held his. "I--I never wanted much in life." Her shoulder lifted. "Perhaps it was the life I was born into, but having a family was more than passing on my noble title."

Ethan remained silent, allowing her time to express herself.

"I know I need to accept this, but I couldn't help but hope after reading about your diagnostic team," She rested her head back against her pillow, "I wanted the impossible."

"There's still a chance your uterus can remain intact. We might even be able to save some of your eggs." Ethan reminded her. "You could find a surrogate and--"

"I know." She sniffed. "And I also know there is a chance my eggs might not be in any shape to be saved."

She noticed his frown and gently squeezed his hand. "Thank you for trying, Dr. Ramsey."

"We're not done yet." He stood up when Dr. Tanka walked inside. "We'll talk more later."

Once everything was settled for her surgery in the morning, her bodyguard returned and kept vigil by her bedside.

"Felix," Elisse smiled softly at the middle aged man. "You should go to the hotel and rest."

"I'm fine m'lady." He grumbled.

Her eyebrow lifted at the six foot seven man. "That chair has to be uncomfortable."

A flicker of humor flashed in his eyes. "I've had better and worse, m'lady."

She began to laugh. "I can't imagine anything being worse than that."

"You haven't been on some of the queen's missions." He smiled warmly at her.

Elisse reached for his hand. "Thank you for watching over me."

He gently patted it, becoming gruff with his words that a lady didn't have to thank him for doing his job.

She smiled, taking comfort in his admonishment. Felix had tried to keep a professional distance from her, yet her sadness had him stepping in more and more to offer what comfort he could. He thought of her as a little sister and couldn't help but smile whenever she teased him as if he was family.

Such fondness for her added to the devotion and care he would have normally never given any other noble he was assigned to.

But Elisse was special. He hoped that somehow she would find a piece of happiness that could be all her own.

****************

New York, Statue of Liberty...

Riley swallowed nervously. She didn't know how she could refuse Liam, but it was no use.

After spending so much time with Drake while Liam kept up appearances with Madeleine, she had fallen out of love for Cordonia's new king. The grumpy commoner had touched her heart with his stories of not belonging. She had felt the same way while enduring every snub and insult from Madeleine and some of the other ladies at court.

With so little opportunities to be with Liam, and with feeling a bit hurt that her Prince Charming had not defended her against the allegations, she convinced herself that she had no choice. She had to be with the man that had stood by her side as she tried to locate Tariq.

"Liam, I can't marry you." Her words somehow came out steady. "I came to Cordonia for you, but I fell in love with Drake."

Liam took a step back. "What? You and Drake..."

He couldn't believe it. How had this happened without him noticing? He knew that Drake was fond of her and took her out some evenings. But love?

"Liam?" Riley was growing more nervous by his silence.

Liam couldn't think of what to say.

What should I do?

He only knew he wasn't ready to lose her from his life.

"You...you intend to live in Cordonia?"

She slowly nodded. "If that's okay. I want to see where things go with Drake."

Her words were another bitter slash to his heart.

"Of course." He slid his hands in his pockets to keep from grasping her and forcing her to take her words back. "Just because you don't feel as I do, I would never hold that against you. Cordonia is your home."

She visibly relaxed. "Thank you Liam."

"I think," he focused on her, "I think you will be a benefit to Cordonia. I'm going to make you a duchess."

"A duchess?!" She gasped. "But..."

He knew this would keep her at hand. Give him a reason to see her without appearing as the desperate, rejected suitor. Perhaps now that the scandal was over and things calmed down, she might realize that what she thought was love for Drake was nothing more than gratefulness for his assistance.

Am I wrong for hoping this? Should I instead hope their love is true?

Liam forced a smile. "I arranged for us to go to the top." He motioned toward the statue. "Would you still like to?"

Riley returned his smile. "I really can't pass up an opportunity like that, can I?"

"I hoped you wouldn't." He replied.

He followed behind her, wishing this night had ended differently.

***************

Another five months later, Cordonia...

"Anton and his minions are in chains!" Riley held her glass high as the court cheered.

Liam tugged at the stiff collar of his jacket. It had been a day filled with emotions that he could not share with a single soul. Seeing the woman he thought he loved marry his best friend had cut deep. Discovering they had been kidnapped had caused both anger and worry as he rushed to face down the man who dared to take the throne from him.

Witnessing Riley and Drake fight side by side, each trying to protect the other had been eye opening. Neither cared about anything other than keeping the one they loved safe.

He couldn't begrudge their happiness. Nor could he continue to wish that circumstances had gone differently. Riley was not meant for him after all.

He knew he would have to let the past go and somehow find a way to move forward into the future.

******************

A month later, Monterisso Royal Palace...

"King Liam chose an heir!" Amalas exclaimed when Elisse walked into the main hall.

"He chose one? That is shocking." Elisse leaned forward to see the report that just came in. "Who's the lucky child?"

"That's just it." Amalas dropped the paper. "He has named the yet to be conceived child of the Duke and Duchess of Valtoria as his heir."

Elisse's brow furrowed. "But, he might still marry. His own children should be next in line."

"He says differently." Amalas pulled up his news conference for her cousin to watch.

"This seems wrong." Elisse mumbled. " I know those two are his closest friends--"

"And they are Guardian and Champion of the Realm." Amalas reminded her with an eye roll. "That's what he has had to use to get the people on board with his decision."

"Poor Liam." Elisse couldn't help but sympathize with the king. "He's being pressured on all sides for something he can't completely control."

"I think I might pay a visit." Amalas tapped her finger against her chin. "Perhaps see if the new duke and duchess are amenable to a possible alliance."

"It couldn't hurt." Elisse added.

"Indeed." The Queen smiled warmly at her. "I want you to come along. It has been too long since you and I went on a trip. I could use your ability to read people while I guide them toward a possible arranged marriage for their child and mine."

"I suppose I have to do as my queen commands." Elisse teased. "And I've yet to ever say no to my cousin."

"Doubly lucky for me." Amalas smirked.

"When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow."

[babygirlwolverine]

I'm sorry to drop this in your askbox but I'm feeling pessimistic and trying to be realistic at the same time (and I need someone I can talk to about this): I feel like we all are in denial and trying to make some kind of sense to this mess when we should simply accept that the ending was just shitty and be happy that, at least, we've got Cas's confession. As much as it's a burry your gay trope, even if Dean did reciprocate Cas's feelings in 15x18, I'm pretty sure the 2 next episodes wouldn't have been different from what they gave us because Jensen said he hated the ending from the start, not because he is a heller (I'm not saying he isn't, because HE IS) but because of the way they ended Dean/the show. Still, I'm pretty sure Misha and Jensen knew how the love confession was important and did everything they could to make it as romantic as possible, which I'll be forever grateful ❤️ Also I wanted to thank you for the fics you write, they always melt my heart 😭

Hi there nonnie. First of all, I want you to know you don’t have to apologize for dropping this in my askkbox. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for, okay? I’m here for you- to listen and to talk. Secondly, I want to thank you for reaching out, and for choosing to pick me to reach out to. I know these kinda of struggles can be hard to deal with, and so you’re so brave for sending this message, and I’m just really grateful that you chose to open up to me. Thank you for trusting me.

Thirdly, let me start by saying you are not alone. And I don’t mean that in the placating way. I mean it literally. So many fans, including myself, have been struggling with the same feelings and thoughts you described. Your feelings and thoughts are valid. I understand what you’re feeling, because I have felt the exact same way. After the finale aired, I was so gut wrenchingly broken that I couldn’t enjoy the rest of my vacation. I stopped eating and sleeping because I was feeling so depressed about how things ended. And even now, I still can’t accept the ending. I don’t think I ever will.

And if you can’t accept the ending, then that’s okay, too. Myself, along with many others I know, are simply ignoring 15x20. It’s okay if you never want to watch the finale again. It’s okay if you never want to reblog any gifsets from the finale or write or read any fics associated with it.

Do i think a lot of us are in denial? Yeah, I do. I think there are people grasping at straws to find ways to make it better. And you know what? That’s okay too. The biggest thing to remember is everyone copes and reacts differently. That’s the beauty of humans. How I react may be different than you, which may be different from the majority of fans. And that’s okay. It’s all okay. We are allowed to grieve. We’re allowed to desperately clutch at small hopes as we move through the grieving process.

Was the ending shitty? Hell yes it was. Have I started to accept that? Yeah. Have other people accepted that? Maybe yes, maybe no. Like I said, everyone processes things at different speeds and reacts in their own way. So if you’re ready to move on and try and be happy with Cas’ confession and to focus your energy on that, then do that. You have every right to. You’re allowed to be happy about that moment and to find happiness in Cas’ confession. Don’t let anyone tell you any differently. Find your happiness and don’t let anyone take it from you.

Some people will adamantly say it wasn’t a bury your gays trope. Some people will go to their grave swearing it is. Do I think it was? Yeah, I agree with your thoughts on the matter. I definitely feel like it was a bury the gays trope, but I don’t think Misha intended for it to be that way. Maybe that’s just hopeful innocence, or maybe he was so excited to give us this moment that he didn’t really see the negative connotation that could come out of it. And I think that’s okay, to want to focus on the happiness and freeing moment and to be thrilled to see Cas’ acceptance and journey to opening up and expressing his truest self. 

You’re probably right in saying that even if Dean did reciprocate on screen, it might not have changed the ending. Maybe it would have. We’ll never know because we’re not the writers or producers or creators. Would it have been fulfilling to see Dean say it back? God yes. Would it have changed Dean’s story and his ending? I don’t know. I can definitely see why Jensen didn’t like the ending, especially when he put his heart and soul into this character and he wanted to see justice and a well-deserved ending for the character he’s held close to his heart for 15 years. 

I completely and utterly agree with you that Misha and Jensen must have known how important that love confession scene was to us. Everything they’ve said in interviews and the way they acted on screen screams it in big bold capitals letters to me. They gave that scene their all- they tapped into emotions and drained themselves in unimaginable ways to give us the scene they wanted to express. I’m 110% convinced they had private conversations about the scene prior to shooting, after shooting, prior to airing, and after it aired. This scene meant a lot to them, and it meant a lot to us, and they knew that. They poured their heart and souls into that confession- they wanted us to know the explicit romantic implications. I am totally with you in being forever grateful to Jensen and Mish for what they did for us in that scene ❤️

Lastly, wow, thank you for your sweet words about my fics! I’m so grateful and honored my fics can melt your heart! 🥺😭 sometimes it can feel like I’m writing into the void and that no one cares, so just hearing you say you like my fics means the absolute world to me! Thank you so much! ❤️ I’ve honestly found my writing zone here with destiel. I’ve written fics since I was about 15 (9 years ago now) but I’d never really been dedicated to writing a certain ship or fandom. I’d write a few things for something and then move on. I’ve never connected with a ship like I have with destiel. I’ve never wanted to write so much and been so inspired to write for a ship until I found destiel. And I’m so glad I did. It’s been such a pleasure and such an honor to write and post my destiel fics, and I can promise you I have no plans of stopping writing for Dean and Cas anytime soon! 💙💚

[doodlelolly0910]

I Hate You

A/N: This one is for my loveliest lovely Wondertwin @artistic-writer who is simply the best. Merry Christmas Salem! I don't know what I'd do without you most days. (I'm sorry it is late cuz Tumblr and I are fighting lol)

Killian and Emma had spent the better part of David and Mary Margaret's Christmas party at each other's throats. What had started out as sarcastic comments soon devolved into full on insults until David couldn't take it anymore and locked them in the guest room, barking at them through the door to “work it out or don't come out”. They had stood in silence, both refusing to look at each other but casting glares across the room when they were sure the other wasn't looking.

Neither of them were particularly cheery around this time of year, for various reasons, and when Mary Margaret got heavy handed with the rum in the eggnog, things had come to a head quite quickly. They'd never really gotten along. Emma thought Killian was too much of a flippant flirt, his lackadaisical attitude about life in general making her want to scream. He was convinced there was a stick planted so firmly in her arse it would have to be surgically removed.

“I hate you,” Emma broke the silence after one particularly long session of trying to set Killian's head on fire with just her eyes.

“The feeling is quite mutual, darling,” he replied with an infuriating smirk and a lift of one of his stupid eyebrows.

She wanted to slap that smirk right off his stupid, handsome face. With his unfairly blue eyes and perfectly manicured scruff. She hated him. For sure.

And he hated her. Walking into every room like she owned it. Smiling and pouting those plump pink lips while her green eyes danced with mischief. He couldn't stand her.

And there was always this underlying… tension between them. The closer he was to her the more he wanted to grab her and kiss her just to shut her the hell up. Just like right now, with her staring daggers at him and looking like some ethereal, wrathful being. And so he did.

It wasn't gentle, the way their lips crashed into one another's. Killian's hand plunged into her hair, tugging firmly as he maneuvered her head the way he wanted it. Emma's hands were clutching at the collar of the black button down he wore, pulling him into her so hard she could feel her lips bruising in real time.

“You're such an arrogant, pompous bastard,” she growled against his lips when they broke away for air. He nipped hard at her lower lip with a chuckle and she gasped sharply at the sensation. He wasted no time in plunging his tongue into the wet cavern of her mouth, sliding harshly over hers. They wrestled for dominance, building heat between them until Emma thought she was going to burst into flames and she pushed him away roughly. Killian looked down at her, lust and confusion warring in his ridiculously blue eyes, his chest expanding and contracting in huge breaths.

Before she could overthink it, Emma grasped the hem of the ugliest sweater in existence (thanks Mary Margaret) and pulled the snowflaked nightmare over her head in one fell swoop, leaving her standing before him clad in only a red bra from the waist up. The breath whooshed from Killian's lungs as he took her in. His eyes bled from sapphire to midnight as they raked over her form with an almost palpable ferocity.

It made her shiver slightly, a reaction he noticed right away based on how quickly his eyes snapped back to meet hers. He stepped closer, all swagger and sin, his hand coming up to trace along the edge of where the crimson fabric met porcelain skin and she could feel the electric goosebumps explode in the wake of his finger.

“For me, Princess? You shouldn't have,” he murmured, his tongue poking at the corner of his mouth teasingly.

“Trust me, I didn't.” She swatted his hand away and reached out, seizing his shirt in both of her hands and ripping it open, what little buttons that were actually buttoned popping off and skittering across the room. Killian looked down, his eyes blown wide and his mouth hanging ajar before meeting her gaze again.

Emma didn't give him time to complain or question, instead moving forward and slipping her hands inside of the parted fabric of the ruined shirt and raking her nails down through his chest hair and over his stomach. She latched her lips onto the edge of where his collarbone met his neck, coaxing a growl from his throat.

His hand came up to fist in her hair again, the other looping tight around her waist And crushing her against him. With a firm yank, he pulled her mouth up to meet his again in another breath stealing kiss. As he kissed her, he began walking her backwards until her knees hit the bed, her hands clutching tightly around his neck as they moved.

His lips broke away from hers and she sucked in a much needed draw of oxygen, but he didn't stop. He began to mouth his way down the side of her neck, nipping and kissing until he reached the juncture of it and clamped down hard, sucking a mark into the skin there.

As soon as she realized what he was doing through the fog of just she was wading through, she pushed him away, her jaw falling open and her hand flying to the site his lips just attached to.

“Did you just give me a fucking hickey?!” she whisper-shouted at him.

“Sorry?” Two fingers came up to scratch behind his ear and he poked his lower lip out, looking at her with decidedly unapologetic eyes through his dark lashes. Emma set her mouth into a thin line before lunging forward and attacking his lips with hers again. His hand shot to her waist to steady himself, her skin warming beneath his fingertips and electric spark shooting up her spine.

She ignored the sensations and the urge to let a shiver rip through her in favor of nipping and kissing her way along his jaw and down his throat. When her lips sealed tight around his pulse point, a growl worked from his throat that resonated into her own mouth and his hand shot from her midsection to bury itself in her long, blonde curls once again, holding her in place. His other arm pulled her flush against him and she released him with a an audible pop and a gasp at the feeling of his flesh and chest hair against her own bare skin. What was more, she could feel exactly how this was affecting him, the hard length of his erection pressing tightly against her through their layers of denim.

“Now we match,” she said breathlessly, looking up at him with hooded eyes. The fire behind his gaze flared at her words and his hand slid from her hair to grip her jaw firmly as he turned her and marched them backwards, pushing her against the wall hard enough that her teeth might have rattled if he hadn't been holding her jaw steady.

“I'll wear it like a badge of honor,” he rasped, then dipped his head to bury his face in her cleavage. Emma's hips rolled involuntarily towards his own and he thrust back hard, pinning her in place with his hips.

“Oh my God, I hate you,” she panted as he latched onto a nipple over the top of the crimson lace. He laughed, the sound sending electric sparks across her flesh where his mouth was still working her over. The scruff on his cheeks scraped over the swell of her breasts, surely leaving a burn behind, but Emma couldn't bring herself to care.

She hasn't even noticed Killian's hands travelling down her body and undoing the button and zip to her jeans until the fabric was being pulled down her damp thighs, along with her surely ruined panties.

“You keep saying that, love. I'm not entirely convinced that you do hate me after all,” he said, finally pulling away from yet another mark he was sucking into her breast. Emma opened her mouth to protest but all that came out was a low whine as Killian shoved his hand between her thighs and delved straight into her core with no preamble.

Emma was no longer in control of the actions of her own body, her hips rolling down against his fingers in time with the hard rhythm he’d set. Her eyes fluttered shut and she jumped slightly when Killian's lips pressed against her ear, hot and wet.

“Shh, my darling. You've got to keep quiet. We don't want anyone walking in and seeing your gorgeous face like this, watching you take your pleasure on my hand.” His rumbled words snapped her back to reality and she realized just how short on time they actually were.

“Maybe you should just shut up and fuck me then,” she shot back. It sounded much needier than she intended it to.

“Be careful what you wish for, Swan.” With that, he was kissing her again, his fingers working overtime and she felt the coil in her belly wind tight until it snapped in a burst of blinding color. Her body shook and shuddered, but Killian held her firm against him, his mouth swallowing down every blissful noise that poured from her lips. His fingers slowed as he helped her ride out her high and then he was pulling away abruptly, leaving Emma reeling and clutching at the wall to keep her upright in his wake.

It took a minute for Emma's floating head to register that Killian had dug out his wallet and was fishing a small foil packet from the leather folds and placing it gently between his teeth. His hands then busied themselves with undoing his belt and fastenings to his jeans. Emma's brain finally caught up with current events and she hurriedly kicked off her shoes and slipped her pants the rest of the way off of her body into a crumpled heap on the floor.

Killian pulled the condom from his mouth as his jaw slackened, his eyes hungrily roving her exposed form. Emma licked her lips at the sight of him hard and heavy in his own palm. When her gaze reconnected with his, he arched a brow and a slow, sexy smile spread over his cheeks.

“Always prepared,” he said with a wink, waving the condom at her and tearing it open. Emma rolled her eyes and plucked the condom from his fingers.

“Well, aren't you just a regular boy scout,” she snarked and replaced the hand he had curled around his cock with her own. He let out a strangled noise at the feeling of her hand on him.

“Why the bloody hell would a boy scout have a condom?” he asked, panting as she rolled the condom into place.

“I just meant that you- nevermind, just get in me Jones before I change my mind.” She let out an exasperated huff.

“As you wish.”

He was on her again in a second, his hands scooping up under her thighs so they folded around his waist and tossing her on her back on the bed. He wasted no time in crawling on top of her and entered her with one smooth thrust that both of them cursing and groaning. Whether it was because they had become aware of just how little time they might have left in privacy or if it was because their need for each other had reached a fever pitch, they set a breakneck pace that sent them both hurtling towards the edge of ecstasy at lightning speed.

“God, love you feel amazing. Perfect, like you were made for me.” His mumbled ramblings held no tease or sarcasm to them this time, and she buried her face in his neck to stifle her own moans.

When he bent his knees and changed the angle of his thrusts so that he hit the most sensitive spots inside of her, his pelvis grinding against her clit with every pass, it didn't take her long before she was falling apart again. He wasn't far behind, growling her name into the tangled mass of hair on her head as he spilled into the condom.

He leaned into her, pressing soft sweet kisses against her cheek and forehead in stark contrast to the rough quick fuck that had just happened. He looked down at her sated face with such affection that it made her insides twist in an entirely different way.

Emma winced as he pulled out of her and it took her a moment to gain her bearings on wobbly knees as he walked away to dispose of the condom. When he returned, he'd tucked himself away, but his clothes were still parted, making him look way sexier than anyone had any right to. Emma avoided looking at him as she gathered her clothes and slipped back into them.

An awkward silence descended between them.

Emma wasn't sure what to do or say next. She certainly didn't hate him as much as when she walked in the room but she was surprised to find it extended beyond that even. She wanted more, even if she wasn't ready to admit it.

“I don't really hate you you know,” she blurted into the silence of the room, making Killian's brows climb his forehead and a bark of a laugh burst from his lips.

“I gathered, Swan. I quite fancy you myself when you're not yelling at me,” he said, stepping forward and smoothing a lock of hair behind her ear. She rolled her eyes but she couldn't fight the smirk that dimpled her cheeks.

“Do you, uh, wanna get out of here?” she asked hesitantly, chewing on the edge of her lip.

“I would love to, Swan. Besides, I'm not sure that I'll be up to the dress code any longer.” He motioned down to his still parted shirt and Emma flushed hot, remembering how she'd divested him of his buttons.

“Oops?” she said and Killian narrowed his eyes playfully at her. “Didn't think that one through, I guess.”

“I can't say that it wasn't worth it,” he replied, his tongue poking at the corner of his mouth as he pulled his shirt open on one side to reveal thin red lines left behind on his shoulder by her nails. Emma felt her face heat further and her apologetic smile widen. “I suppose you'll just have to help me make my daring escape.”

“Let's go then,” she said.

They crept up the hallway, the dull roar of the party echoing after them, and stopped at David and Mary Margaret's room to retrieve their coats. Killian shrugged his on and wiggled his eyebrows at Emma as they made their way back past the way they had come from, intent on slipping out through the garage.

“Zip that up and stop being ridiculous,” she said as she donned her own coat and tugged her gray beanie into place.

“You love that I'm ridiculous,” he said on a throaty laugh, leaning in for another kiss.

“Oh, hey guys, I was just coming to- what in the hell?!” David's voice caused both of them to freeze in place, eyes locked to the other's before springing apart and looking sheepishly at Emma's brother.

“Uh… we made nice! Merry Christmas! We gotta go, bye!” Emma practically shoved Killian out the door and slammed it in David's face. As soon as they scrambled from the garage and hut the night air, they made a break for it to Emma's car. She started the little bug easily and they drove away, David's silhouette fading in the rearview mirror. Killian blew out a heavy breath.

“He is going to kill me, love,” he said after catching his breath.

“Nah. He couldn't hack the prison time.” Emma looked over at him with a brilliant smile.

“He'll at least knock some of the handsome out of me,” Killian said and shook his head.

“No one's that powerful,” Emma replied, a teasing lilt to her voice that he hadn't heard before. It was then that he realized that whatever this thing between them could become would be worth anything David (or anyone else's for that matter) could dish out.

“I always knew you'd come around, Swan.”

[marril96]

The Boiling Point

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: Rowena takes her frustrations out on reader. Reader, in turn, snaps and says things she instantly comes to regret.

Editor: @oswinthestrange

Read on AO3.

You had had enough. 

Her full power being restored hadn't saved Rowena from finding herself at the mercy of Arthur Ketch. The former British Man of Letters, now a mercenary, had wanted her to recharge his Resurrection Seal. He had not asked nicely. Even still, Rowena had said no. It didn't matter how much he'd beaten her, first with his fists and feet and then, when he'd grown tired, with various instruments he'd had around. Her answer had remained the same, accompanied by sass and taunts that had only made the situation worse. 

Not much was different when Rowena had gotten home. Nothing you did had been good enough. She wasn't satisfied with the way you'd treated her injuries, constantly fidgeting and smacking your hands whenever they'd get anywhere close to her body. Her magic, she'd claimed, would be more useful. Unfortunately for her, she was still too weak to properly use it. So she lashed out at the closest person in vicinity, the honor of whom went to you. 

Rowena had found the bed uncomfortable. There wasn't much you could do about that; it had less to do with the bed and more with her injuries. It's hard to get comfortable when your entire body is covered in bruises. The pain pills you'd given her had been bitter, and so had the potion. You were certain you'd gotten the ingredients right. Rowena had a tendency to get herself into trouble and the potion to help speed up the healing process had become one you knew by heart. That hadn't stopped Rowena from accusing you of doing it wrong. 

The food you'd prepared for her, a simple meal from a can that just needed to be warmed up, had tasted terrible. With a psychotic mercenary on the loose, looking for his runaway witch, ordering delivery from her favorite restaurant hadn't been safe. For the next few days the two of you would have to lay low. Rowena wouldn't hear it; it was either restaurant food or nothing. She'd opted for nothing. 

The next thing she demanded was tea. That, too, had not been up to her standards. You'd put too much honey, she'd claimed. It was too sweet. So you did it again. And again. After the third rejected cup, you had had enough. 

"Would you stop acting like a brat?!" you snapped, no longer able to contain your anger. You'd been trying your hardest to take care of her. But, it seemed, the more you tried, the less pleased she was. 

Rowena stiffened. The two of you rarely argued, and when you had, you never yelled at her. Not like this. Swallowing the shock, she said, "I hardly think asking for a decent cup of tea constitutes acting like a brat." 

"It's not just the tea. It's everything! For the last two days, I've done nothing but take care of you. Not once have you said something nice to me. Not once! 

"Maybe I would have if you've done it right." 

Your fists clenched. Anger burned in your veins, blood as hot as lava. You had risked your life locating the secluded cabin Ketch had taken Rowena prisoner in and going there armed with nothing but your magic – magic that had been much weaker than hers. Had the mercenary not gone out, you would have most likely ended up gravely injured, as Rowena had, or even worse, dead. You had barely gotten an hour of sleep last night, hovering over Rowena like a mother hen. You'd spent most of the night making healing potions and stacking them up on shelves. You had run to her bedside every time she'd let out even the smallest of moans. 

You'd done your best to hold back your tears when you were around her; looking at her black and blue body was far from easy. You cried when you were alone, where she couldn't see or hear you. The last thing you wanted was your make her feel like you were pitying her. 

And how had she repaid you? By complaining about every single thing. 

"You're being really ungrateful," you accused. 

Rowena looked at you, eyes narrow, incredulity sprawled across her face. "What should I be grateful for? Being basically tortured by the person who rescued me? Being poisoned by food well past the expiration date and potions with god-knows-what in them?" 

The accusations stung. You wanted to cry. Why was she saying those things? You would have never harmed her on purpose. You had taken care of her before, the same way you had yesterday and today, and she'd never had a complaint. Not one. She had eaten that same food and drank those same potions many times in the past. There had never been any problems.  

"I can't believe you just said that," you whispered. Your voice was low, almost breaking. Your lower lip quivered. You bit it, pushing back the tears that threatened to fall. 

A look of guilt sprawled over Rowena's bruised face, but she quickly smothered it, featured turning emotionless, distant. 

"I never meant to hurt you." 

"Well, you did," she said.  

"Did I really, or are you just being a drama queen?" 

Her eyes widened. "How can you ask me that?" 

"I don't know. How can you accuse me of poisoning you?" you countered. Two could play this game. 

"I have been tortured by a bloody madman for hours!" Rowena snapped. "Only to then be subjected to the same treatment by you!" 

Not only have you supposedly tortured her, but now you were exactly the same as Ketch. Awesome! What was next? Was she going to compare you to Lucifer? 

"Great, Rowena. That's really great," you said sarcastically. 

"Just telling it as it is." 

"I think you're just being a bitch." If she could be one, so could you. 

She scowled at you. 

You scowled right back. 

"Keep it up and I'll leave you to fend for yourself," you said. Any other time it would have been a bluff, but now, after everything she'd thrown at you, after all those insults and baseless accusations, you were more than willing to act on the threat. 

Rowena's lip quivered. "Of course. Why do anything but cause me more pain? Throw me out on the streets and be done with me, why don't you? I'm just a burden." 

"Maybe you are!" you exclaimed. 

Rowena swallowed, surprised by your outburst. You weren't done, not by a longshot. Anger burned at your insides, all the frustrations that had gathered begging to be let out, begging to be unleashed upon the unsuspecting redhead. She wanted war. She had it. 

"Nothing I do is good enough for you! You always find something to complain about! Think this is easy for me? Think I like looking at you all bruised and bloody? I fucking hate it!" 

Tears spilled down your cheeks, burning your skin like fire. There was no point in holding them back anymore. Rowena had hurt you; you were more than willing to return the favor. She wasn't the only one who could hold a grudge. 

"I haven't had a good night of sleep for almost a year! All this time, I've been taking care of you. I can't remember the last time I put myself first! It's always you, you, you! I never complained. Not once. I put up with your constant crying fits and flashbacks without a single word!" 

Rowena's eyes rimmed with redness. A single tear slid down her cheek. "None of that is my fault," she said. Her lips trembled, voice quiet, barely above a whisper. 

"Oh, really?" You hated yourself for hurting her, but you couldn't stop. Your rant was far from over. She wanted you to be a monster. Here you were. "I told you not to trust Lucifer and you wouldn't listen. Now look what happened! You did it to yourself! You know, I bet the Ketch thing was also your fault. What did you do? Did you suck up to him, too, only for him to turn the tables? Seems to happen to you a lot." 

Tears poured down her face like a waterfall, fast and bitter. She pressed her lips into a line, holding back the sobs that threatened to break free of the containment of her throat. You had crossed the line. Guilt tugged at your heart like a beast digging its sharp talons into it, squeezing until there was nothing left but pain. Deep, excruciating pain tore at you, ripping you into pieces bit by bit. You should have left and given her time to calm down. There was no need to go that far. 

"Rowena–" you tried. 

She cut you off with a shout of, "Get out!" 

"Please, just–" 

"Get the hell out!" 

"Let me–" 

"I don't want to hear anything more! You've made yourself bloody clear! Now get out!" 

Rowena turned on her side, wincing and hissing as she did so, her injuries protesting the movement. She brought her hands to her face and, careful not to agitate the cuts and bruises, pressed her palms against it. She was hiding from you. Dread settled in your stomach at the realization. She didn't want you to see her. You'd lost the privilege to see her weak, to see her broken and shattered. You had used her weakness against her, something you'd promised never to do. You'd lost count of how many times you assured her that you weren't like the others, that you would never hurt her and betray her on purpose. That you weren't the Loughlins, the Winchesters, and Lucifer. That you wouldn't throw her out like trash when she was at her weakest, chain her up and exploit her, break her trust when she least expected it. That you would make her life heaven rather than hell. 

So much for that. 

Heart-wrenching sobs followed you as you closed the door behind you on your way out. More tears rushed down your face. You had hurt the one you love when she needed you the most. You had broken your promises. You had betrayed her trust. 

You could only hope she would eventually forgive you. You didn't know how you could live with yourself otherwise. 

A few hours had passed when you decided to try to make it up to Rowena. You hadn't rested for one moment, thoughts overflown with memories of earlier today. Her accusations. Your anger. Snapping at her. Telling her things you had never wanted to tell anyone, let alone the person you loved more than anything in the world. Her tear-streaked face. Screams for you to get out. Sobs that still echoed in your head as if you were hearing them right now. 

You had to fix this. Both for Rowena's sake and yours. 

Grabbing a couple of pain pills and a healing potion, you headed for the room. The pills she had taken earlier today had most likely started to fade. She needed a new dosage, lest she would be in pain. Ketch had made sure of that. 

A loud thud followed by a yelp prompted you to hurry. Had Ketch found you? The strong warding had made sure that your home couldn't be located through supernatural means. GPS and the like, on the other hand, did the job just fine. There had yet to be a spell that would hide your location from anyone. Even if there was, you doubted Rowena would cast it; as much as she treasured her safety, deliveries from her favorite restaurants and boutique shops had priority. You, too, had a habit of ordering online. Why buy expensive books when you can order them for half a price and have them delivered to your door? You weren't an animal. 

You burst in like the room was on fire, a spell lingering at the tips of your lips, ready to be cast upon the intruder. You never went into a fight unprepared. If no hex bags had been at hand, a simple Abi would work just fine, especially if the attacker was human. 

You breathed out in relief to find the room bare and untouched, no intruder in sight. 

Then your breath hitched – again – as your eyes fell upon the cause of the noise. Rowena knelt on the hardwood floor, holding herself up by her elbows. Her shaky arms barely supported her weight. Your heart ached with sympathy. You were aware that she wasn't able to walk on her own; even with your support, she barely remained on her feet, legs fighting to stay balanced under the pressure on immense pain. One wrong move and she would stumble. 

Ketch had beaten her in all the right places. She had, at one point, almost escaped him. He had made sure that there wouldn't be a second time. Her legs were more purple than creamy. Save for her feet, there was barely a spot without a bruise. Her arms were injured, as well, but far less than other parts of her body. Though, it seemed, they were failing her, too. 

Rowena was panting, desperately struggling to keep herself up. A few whimpers escaped her, weak, broken, like that of an injured puppy begging for help. As soon as her eyes met yours, she pressed her lips into a tight line, trapping all the noises. She looked at you like a wounded animal, eyes big, doe-like, desperate for help, but too proud to show it. 

No, not proud. 

Hurt. 

"Rowena!" Hurriedly setting the pills and potion on the bedside table, you knelt beside her. "What happened?" Had she attempted to walk? Guilt that had been tearing at you seeped into your voice, mixing with concern. If you'd been here, this wouldn't have happened. She wouldn't have gotten hurt again. 

Rowena averted her eyes, a fast movement, almost a twitch. Pressing her palms firmly against the floor, she tried to raise herself up. Her trembling arms gave in and she found herself on her elbows again, a slap of skin and bone against the hard wood of the floor. Rowena yelped, breathing deeply, unevenly, trying to old back cries of pain. Hair spilled down her back and over her shoulders, like a red, silky blanket hiding her face. 

Hiding it from you. 

Swallowing the guilt, you reached out. Her hand slapped yours, almost instinctively; it was more a gentle pat than a slap, but it got the message across. She didn't want you to touch her. 

The rejection hurt, but you couldn't be mad at her. You had hurt her. Her soul was in just as much pain as her body was. All because of you. 

"Let me help you," you said, tone a soft plea. 

"Stay away from me!" Rowena snapped. 

"Please, let me help." 

"I don't want anything from you!" 

You tried not to let it hurt too much. You failed. Every rejection, every shout tore a hole in your heart. You'd been attacked by a werewolf once; it had scratched your chest to the point of peeling off all layers of skin in its attempts to get to your heart, sharp claws digging in and out of your skin like a shovel digging a hole in the ground. Rowena's words hurt almost as much. 

You couldn't blame her. Had the roles been reversed, you would have been pissed at her beyond belief. 

Deciding to risk it, you stood up and walked behind Rowena. 

"What are you doing?" she asked, eyes following you cautiously. 

You wrapped your arms around her torso, clasping your hands one over the other on her chest, under her breasts. She could be mad all she wanted. What mattered the most was helping her. If that meant pissing her off even more, so be it. You could live with her anger. You could live with her hating you. You could live with anything other than her being in pain, especially when you could do something to lessen it. 

"Let go of me!" Rowena hissed. You feared that she would try to wiggle out of your hold, but, to your surprise, she remained still. She needed help and she knew it. She just wouldn't admit it. 

"Sorry, sweetheart." You meant it. But not for helping her. "I have to do this." 

"Let go!" 

"I'm sorry, but I can't." 

Carefully, you raised her to her feet. Rowena's knees wobbled, too weak to support her weight. She was barely a hundred pounds; she should have been able to walk. Damn you, Ketch! The sight of her shaking, legs, torso, and face purple and red with bruises and lacerations that, in some places, looked like a tigers stripes tore at you. It was almost unnatural. Rowena's skin wasn't supposed to be that color. Nobody's skin was! 

You helped her to the bed, sitting her down with utmost care. Rowena let out a sign of relief. Her hands felt the soft surface, fingers digging into the sheets as if to make sure that they were real. You reached for her hand. She pulled instantly pulled it away, like a reflex, an instinct, and laid it on her lap. Fixing your mess was going to be difficult. Rowena had been known to hold a grudge for centuries. 

That hadn't discouraged you in the slightest. You just had to try harder. 

"Can we talk? Please?" you asked. 

"I have nothing to say to you," she replied coldly. 

"I have a few things to say to you." 

"You've said enough." 

She wasn't wrong. 

"Can you give me a chance to try to fix it?" 

Rowena looked at you for a split second, then turned her head again. 

"Please?" 

You were met with silence. 

You decided to give it a shot. You had nothing to lose. Rowena hated you. She couldn't hate you more than she already had. 

"I didn't mean what I said," you said. "I swear. I just… The things you were saying to me hurt, and I wanted to hurt you back. I didn't mean that go that far." 

Rowena lowered her head. She still wouldn't look at you. 

You continued, "What happened to you wasn't your fault. It was shitty of me to say that it was. I don't blame you for anything. I swear. I don't mind taking care of you. Yeah, it's difficult sometimes, but it's not a problem. To be honest, I kinda like it. Because you trust me. You have no idea how much that means to me." 

Being woken up by screams and punches sucked. But that didn't make you love Rowena any less. If anything, it made you love her more. She trusted you with her weakness, let you hold her and comfort her, let you be the one to pull her from the darkness of terrifying memories back into the light of your love. You could handle sleepless nights. Rowena was the one who had to live with the trauma. The least you could do was help her get through it. 

Finally, Rowena looked at you. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. You let your lips curl into a small smile. You reached for her hand again, and this time she let you hold it. Both of your hands clasped around hers, fingers twining with her own ones. Her skin was warm, like sunshine in human form. 

"I'm sorry. I was angry and I crossed the line. I know it's not an excuse, but it's the truth. I never meant to hurt you like that. I promise I won't do it again. Give me another chance." 

A tear slid down your cheek. Rowena raised her free hand and brushed her forefinger against it, wiping the tear away. She cupped your cheek. You leaned into her palm, heart fluttering at the feeling of her warmth on your face. She was gentle, caring, almost – dare you say – motherly. Her thumb stroked your skin, rubbing soft circles. 

"Please," you said, more tears falling. 

"Shh," she whispered tenderly. "It's alright, darling." 

"Do you hate me?" you whimpered. 

She shook her head. 

"I'd hate me." 

"I don't." 

You swallowed. Anther whimper fell from your mouth. "I'm really sorry." 

"I know you are." 

"I love you." 

"I know." 

"Forgive me." 

"I do." 

One more tear slipped your eye, sliding down to Rowena's thumb. She ran the finger over it, smudging it away. 

"You do?" you asked, unable to hide your disbelief. Rowena didn't forgive, not that easily. 

"Aye," she said with a nod. She smiled, but her lips quickly morphed back into a line as the movement pulled at the split. A kick and punch – or several – tends to do that. 

"You're not mad?" 

"I was," she said. "But you've come to apologize, and I can tell that you're honest. That accounts for a lot, dear. And also…" She drew in a breath. "I haven't been very kind to you, either." 

That was an understatement. 

At the very least, she was owning up to it. It was rare for Rowena to admit when she was wrong. 

"I… apologize." It was difficult for her to will the word to leave her mouth. In almost four years of knowing Rowena, she had only apologized four times – three of those were for manipulation purposes, and one was sarcasm from when you were teasing her. This was the first time she had said it and meant it. "I have no complaints about your treatment of me. You've never been anything short of lovely. I suppose I was just angry. At myself. I've unlocked my magic, yet that bloody Neanderthal managed to hurt me. I'm supposed to be the most powerful witch in the world, and I got kidnapped and tortured by a wee human." 

"That wasn't your fault." You squeezed her hand to emphasize your words." Shit happens; it'll keep happening. That doesn't mean you're weak." 

"I'm supposed to be invincible." 

"No one's invincible, Rowena." 

Her eyes sparkled with tears. "Then how am I supposed to protect myself from Lucifer?" Her voice trembled as she said the archangel's name. 

Sharp pain tugged at your heart, like an arrow piercing straight through it. Lucifer. That had been the main reason she was so desperate to get her full magic back. She thought the fear and nightmares would stop, but they had remained. Power meant nothing when your soul was as wounded as hers had been. She could have had power equaling that of a deity, or lost it all and reverted back to a weakly human; it didn't matter. The trauma would follow her through all stages of life. Being blinded, beaten, and burned alive would always be a part of her, always be in her past. 

"Ketch is a cunning son of a bitch. He snuck up on you. We'll be more careful from now on," you said. "And when Lucifer comes calling, you'll kick his ass." You flashed her an encouraging smile. "Don't worry. I know you got this. You're badass." 

Rowena returned the smile. "I'm badass," she repeated. 

"Bet your ass you are." 

Her smile faded. "Thank you, darling." 

"For what?" 

"Being here despite how I treated you." 

"I could say the same to you," you said. "Why don't we put it behind us? Act like it never happened?" 

"Alright," Rowena agreed with a nod.  

You beamed, happy that it had finally been settled. 

"Why were you on the floor?" you asked. 

"I wanted to get painkillers." She lowered her head in shame. "It's a short walk. I thought I could make it." 

"I brought you some." You motioned to the pills and potion on the bedside table. One of your hands released hers, rising up to her cheek. Your fingers brushed against an uninjured spot, skin against skin, warmth against warmth, letting her know that it was okay. There was no shame in being injured. "Does it hurt a lot?" 

"Hurts like hell," Rowena replied honestly. 

"Just a moment." You tried to stand up to get the medicine, but Rowena's hand on your arm stopped you. 

"Wait! Could-could I get something to eat first? The pills always make me drowsy." 

"Of course! But we only have cans. I mean, I could try to make you something, but I doubt it'd be edible." Not only would it not be edible, but it would possibly be deadly. If she were to eat your homemade food, Rowena would have valid reasons to accuse you of poisoning her. 

"Canned food is fine." 

"You sure?" 

"Aye. It's not that bad," she admitted with a small chuckle. "I'll survive. Hopefully." 

Had she not been injured, you would have playfully slapped her shoulder. Instead, you gave a small laugh. "I'll go warm it up. Wanna lie down while you wait?" 

Rowena shook her head. "I'm good." 

You nodded. "Hey, Rowena?" 

"Yes?" 

"Can I hug you?" 

"Of course you can!" 

Spreading your arms open, you let her nuzzle into you. Given the full extent of her injuries, pulling her to you would only cause her pain. Once she had settled, comfortable, you gently put your arms around her. She was like a glass doll, fragile, cracked around the edges. One wrong move and you could break her. Even still, she trusted you; trusted her to handle her with utmost care, to love her, to protect her. 

You swore to never do anything – again – to lose that trust.

A/N: This story was inspired by a fantasy @oswinthestrange and I wrote out together.

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