#by god i wish i could find the article

[apollos-boyfriend]

there is not a day that goes by that i don’t think about the time my high school’s band and color guard didn’t stand up for the anthem during ONE (1) game and some girl from my class’ dad wrote an entire article about how america’s youth is going to shit or whatever and he did it by citing AMERICAN IDIOT OF ALL SONGS. my brother in christ you are the very person billie joe armstrong wrote that song about.

[3416]

thinking about how mitch and auston both have tattoos on their upper right arms to symbolize their family and the family crests.................

totally feeling normal every time i remember that

[nick-cassidy]

do u guys wanna know my fe favorite rookie testing moment ? when envision invited dries last year and he immediately wrecked the fucking car and envision was stressing out if they could fix it in time 😭😭😭

[seakraitmessages]

ramble in the tags 🙈

[currently-becoming-potatoes]

List of words for the computer:

LONG POST- more under the cut

STANFORD- Pulls up a file on Stanford Pines, written by an unknown scientist. It discusses his extra finger and praises his intelligence, as well as calling him the “next evolution in the human species”.

BILL CIPHER- Takes you to the Wikipedia page for the Eye of Providence. Also took me to a Sesame Street video about a Jazzy Triangle and a Square. Not sure what prompted the change.

STANLEY PINES: Takes you to a list of EBay listings for brass knuckles.

FIDDLEFORD: Takes you to the music video for Cotton Eye Joe by Rednex.

SHERMIE: Nothing. I sure do wish we got some lore about Grandpa Pines.

GRAVITY FALLS: The text on the computer reads “never heard of it” and the red light on the bottom turns green.

ALEX HIRSCH: Leads to Google Images for “flannel”. Huh.

WEIRDMAGEDDON: Pulls up an article from the Gravity Falls Gossiper about how nothing happened at all and there was no apocalypse.

DISNEY: Screen reads “rat.gif censored for your protection”

SOOS: Leads to a page of writing from Soos himself, referencing many things (including Tad Strange being gay and madly in love with Woodpecker Guy. Love wins!!!)

DIPPER: Leads to a creepy yellow parchment with a message from Bill Cipher himself trying to trick Dipper into blinding himself by staring at the sun for 13 hours straight! Silly! (Also if you keep clicking on it, the page gets darker and blurrier until it implies we've gone blind)

MABEL: Causes stickers to appear on every available surface. Clicking it enough times leads to message “lab now fully Mabelized”.

WENDY: Leads to a note from Wendy that mentions a way to ward off evil triangles written in the bottom corner of the book.

GIDEON: Makes a web recording of Gideon scatting play. It ends with “I love you forever Mabel”. Please shut the fuck up you little creep.

TAD STRANGE: Plays a video of bread with smooth jazz in the background.

TOBY DETERMINED: Leads to a Google search for a restraining order. Holyyyyy shittttttt

WHO ARE YOU: “I could ask you the same question”

SEASON 3: “Season Two”. I guess that’s that lol

This was about all I could find. Please reblog with anything else you can discover! Thank you, fellow Gravity Falls enjoyers!

And make sure to give some love to all the wonderful folks down in the comments! Many of these answers and tips come from what they've found. I can't list everyone, unfortunately- I didn't expect this post to get popular- but, to everyone who's helped out, THANK YOU.

FURTHER EDITS:

BLIND EYE: Pulls up an optometrist’s eye exam. Each line reads “WKHBOOVHH”. Too lazy to translate atm.

PIÑATA: Bill Cipher getting beaten to death /hj

MASON: A note from Dipper listing several anagrams of Gravity Falls characters’ names. You can check in the comments for the answers.

AXOLOTL: “You ask alotl questions”. Thanks for the pun, Alex, but I’m kind of losing my mind rn

MYSTERY SHACK: Leads to a Google search for Confusion Hill, the real-life Mystery Shack!

MYSTERY: “?”

MONSTER: Leads to several YouTube videos for “There’s a Monster at the End of this Book.”

VALLIS CINERIS: Leads to an analog-horror-esque video of Baby Bill and his parents, who have been blotted out by static, and a voice repeating “WHY DID YOU DO IT” over and over again until you stop the video.

PORTAL: “Portal.exe has been deleted. I bet you could build a new one.”

GIFFANY: You need to put it in multiple times. Several warnings about breaching firewall, followed by a message from GIFFANY saying “SOOS! I still love you!” or smth like that, and then GIFFANY herself briefly appearing onscreen. Trying again after that summons her more. Also lets you download some ZIP files.

DORITO: Summons an image of a spinning Dorito, followed by the most cursed image of Bill Cipher I have ever seen.

GOD: A short video of an axolotl in a tank with a Bill Cipher statue plays. This is Alex’s axolotl, shown in the Book of Bill countdown.

REALITY: “Is an illusion”

FILBRICK: “I’m not impressed”

CARYN: “I knew you were gonna write that”

GLASS SHARD BEACH: Leads to an image of the New Jersey Hell Hole.

ANY CUSS WORD: Pulls up a paper reading “NOT S&P APPROVED. WASH YOUR MOUTH OUT WITH SOAP” with an image of soap below.

MATPAT: Leads to a video of MatPat next to a conspiracy board, holding the Book of Bill. He tells us we’re on our own.

BABBA: Plays an audio recording of Dipper singing BABBA. Not Disco Girl, a different song.

CRAZ: Leads to the Jem and the Holograms theme.

XYLER: See above.

AD ASTRA PER ASPERA: Shows us two new journal pages from Ford and Mabel, studying the Cipher statue. They’re definitely worth the read, I teared up looking at them.

ANSWER: “Question”

QUESTION: “Answer”

SEASON ONE: “Season -1: Antigravity Falls”

SEASON TWO: “Season 1” …maybe scratch what I said about Season 3. Or don’t. Things are starting to damage my brain.

CURSED (got from @slimslamflimflam decoding the candle! Thanks!): Shows two pages talking about the dangers of drawing triangles, with the bottom of the second page showing several drawings of Bill and the words “HE IS COMING, RUN”

THE UNIVERSE: “Hologram”

RIZZ: “Life privileges revoked. Now releasing poison gas.” This response is repeated if you type in SKIBIDI or FORTNITE.

BABY: Shows an ultrasound of a fetus Bill Cipher, captioned “Look at what’s growing inside you! See you in nine months, papa!”

JOURNAL 3: “The Journal for Me”

PACIFICA: Leads to a note from Pacifica calling Bill Cipher “ick” and telling us to follow her on social media under “Platinum Paz”

PLATINUM PAZ: Pulls up an image of Northwest Manor with the llama symbol overlaid and a “NW” logo beneath. There's also a short story beneath!

LOVE: Leads to an audiobook of “The Love Triangle”. Need to read later.

BLENDIN: “The time agent lost and presumed incompetent”. Uh…?

SCARY: Leads to another audiobook of a cheesy Goosebumps-esque horror novel written by Bill himself, apparently.

DIVORCE: Shows you the logo of the bar Bill went to after his fight with Ford… Billford bitter exes confirmed

ROBBIE: Leads to the cringiest messages ever. He’s such a failure I love him

CONSPIRACY: Leads to a video of a man losing his mind over the countdown counting up. I feel so seen. (I have been informed that his name is Charlie Day, he's an actor from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia and that one meme, he had a quote on the back of the Book of Bill, thanks to everyone who explained that to me, I'm sorry, I'm uncultured)

RAT: “Thurburt’s number?”

BLANCHIN: Leads to a YouTube video on how to blanch vegetables.

TJ ECKLEBURG: “Never mention that name again.”

NOTHING: “Something”

SOMETHING: “Nothing”

BURNSIDE: “Burned inside.” Well… at least we know what happened…

WADDLES: Leads to the pig placement network!

THERAPRISM: Pulls up a sign from the theraprism regarding an emergency situation. The code reads "THE OLD ONE".

SHAPE: Pulls up an article on Plato, triangles, and Ancient Greece. This article is presumably written by Bill.

LLIB and BILL: THIS leads to the Sesame Street video every time.

WEIRD: Shows a video of a frightened Weird Al panicking about being trapped in a computer. Sorry, man...

CLONE: Pulls up an image of Paper Jam Dipper, a warning about not getting him too close to liquids, and an option to print.

TRIANGLE: ")" or "Tri harder."

THEYLLSEE: "Is seeing believing?"

DEER TEETH: "For you, kid!"

LIFE: "Life: 72% complete. Now loading: death."

DEATH: "Life's goth cousin."

PINES: "A good family tree."

OWL TROWEL: A slab of hieroglyphs, translating to an ancient ad for an owl trowel.

SCALENE: "Life form not found." EUCLID has the same outcome.

WELL WELL WELL BEING: Some assorted notes from Bill's Theraprism file. These include his greatest love and fear, his art therapy notes, and notes on his phobias. Three clicks is required to read them all.

BOO BERRY: Offers a poem on the meaning of life! Wow! I feel so enlightened!

LOVE YA BRO: Shows us a doodle from Stan of one of his and Ford's Sea Grunks adventures, and another code on the back. It translates to "Kings of New Jersey." I've been told it lets you download the code as a font.

SORRY: Reveals the repaired Backupsmore photo, with a note from Fiddleford about his and Ford's growing friendship. Fiddauthor fans, we are eating well tonight!

HORROR: Pulls up an image and report on The Always Garden, which is essentially a cheap Italian restaurant hidden in the backrooms.

HOLOGRAM: "Universe."

NAITSUAF: Pulls up a page that looks like it would be from the Book of Bill, in which Bill tries to convince us to sell us his soul. Clicking "ARE YOU READY?" pulls up a contract where we can sell our soul to Bill (with an alarming amount of coded fine print. Will need to translate later). You can print this document out, back out, or sign it right there on the web. Hitting "SIGN" causes the words "PLEASURE DOING BUSINESS WITH YOU!" to appear, and the document to close. In other words, I no longer have a soul.

IMSTILLONYOURMIND: Plays a recording of the ocean, with Stan faintly talking in the background. Poor Ford ain't quite over the divorce yet...

HOTXOLOTL: Pulls up a "MOST WANTED" doc on the henchmaniacs.

SEVENEYES: Pulls up a faded polaroid of The Oracle with text on the back that reads "LEAVE HIM. Escape to dimension *blurred out*. It's against the rules but it's the only reality where you'll be safe from him." The code at the bottom (once again decoded by the powerhouse that is @slimslamflimflam) reads "Set a course for Dimension: R34LITY." Is another Cipher Hunt in the makes? Only time will tell, hehehe.

JUST FIT IN: Plays an old commercial with a few moments of speech in the glitches at the end.

EVEN HIS LIES ARE LIES: Shows a transcript from a therapy session at the Theraprism. Bill discusses his relationship with Ford and cuts off the session when someone brings up his parents.

NOT A PHASE: Shows a Google search for "black hair dye stained an entire bathroom."

PAPER IS BOOK SKIN: Instantly downloads a page of fleshy pink paper with the word "ENJOY" written on it!

SHAVE YOUR GRANDMA: Pulls up a few more pages about the human life cycle.

LIES: Pulls up an image of "The Game of Lies" board game, with a long stretch of text from (I assume) Bill, ending with "LIE UNTIL YOU ARE NOT LYING ANYMORE." Someone has some issues...

SAY BAAAA: Pulls up a neat little rhyme about being Bill Cipher's obedient flock of sheep. The code at the end translates to "Black Sheep."

ONE EYED KING: Plays a video of a hypnotist's spiral, with Bill proclaiming "YOU WANT TO PLEDGE YOUR SOUL TO BILL CIPHER" in the background. There is also morse code that translates to "NAITSUAF", leading to a previous discovery- the soul contract.

TANTRUM: Pulls up a transcript of a spat between Bill and Time Baby.

TITANS BLOOD: "HOOT HOOT! Password please!"

CURSE WITTEBANE: Pulls up an image of a Bill Cipher ouija board.

FORDTRAMARINE: Pulls up several rejected files from Ford trying to convince us Fordtramarine exists.

SUCK IT MERLIN: Pulls up a tapestry of Bill riding a unicorn. The code at the top reads "DAY MARE VS NIGHTMARE."

HEY NERD: Plays a commercial advertising things such as a Bill Cipher calendar, the Scrubba-Bill, a severed hand, and the entire Cygnus-XIII galaxy. Half of the image can be found in the Book of Bill.

DESTRUCTION IS THE FORM OF CREATION: Pulls up a frantic page of notes from post-portal-shit Fiddleford. A sticky note at the bottom has a code that reads "Unreality."

RUBBERHOSE: Plays "The World is Small Ever After for All."

IRREGULAR: Shows us Bill's mugshot in color. The code below reads "No prison or attention span can hold him."

UNREALITY: Offers a guide by Bill on how to become immortal.

GUN: "Oh yes oh yes oh yes they both."

ABUELITA: Leads to a video on vacuuming the walls.

YES: "What's McGucket's favorite soda?"

NO: "Your loss..."

REPEATEDLY CLICKING STAN: This stuff deserves a section of its own, away from the OG Stan stuff. It takes you through several Ebay listings on various Stan-ish items until you get to a page written by Bill about Stan's secret shames. "Ex-wives" further confirms our theory on Stan and Eda's relationship, as well as revealing many other bits of lore. "Fears" is somewhat goofy to be honest. "Secret Shames" reveals that Stan is a fanfiction writer and that his mother is the only member of his family who truly loves him outside of Ford and the kids. "Unreported Crimes" is somewhat goofy as well. "Failed Products" basically confirms that Stan is that world's Alex. "Lowest Moments" is genuinely depressing, and "Darkest Thought". Well. I'm not spoiling it lol. And the bit on "How He Beat Me" causes Bill to get more and more frantic/angry the more you click it! Comedy GOLD!

DIPPY FRESH: Leads to a Reddit post of the Burger King Kids Club.

MEOW: Leads to a TikTok of a man playing the Gravity Falls theme on that cap keyboard.

HELP ME: Pulls up another video of Alex's axolotl and the tiny statue. Rip Bill ig :/

R34LITY: Pulls up several photos of the henchmaniacs in live-action, captioned "They found a new home."

JOURNAL 1: "The journal of fun."

JOURNAL 2: "The journal for you."

FBI: "Your webcam is on. We are watching."

BURNED INSIDE: Shows an image of a charred Oregon Parks badge and nametag on the ground.

HECTORING: Plays a silly little country song!

OROBOROUS: Pulls up two journal pages about Fiddleford buying Ford an axolotl to keep him company, and Bill subsequently telling Ford to get rid of him. There's also some code on the first page that reads "CHONKY BOY." Ford, you wonderful dork.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Surprise Marriage

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> When you and Logan receive some...surprising news, it leads to a lot of unanswered questions.

Disclaimer: One or two swear words here and there. Mostly fluff, chaos, little angst, yearning, kissing and a happy ending. Not Proof Read.

The morning, so far, had been slow for Logan. 

Which, thankfully, due to the last couple of years, wasn’t out of the ordinary. Sure, a kid or two might forget to have done their homework or the coffee filter hadn’t been changed. But other than the small, common, everyday mishaps, everything had been pretty normal. 

But somehow, when Logan woke up, something felt off. 

Maybe it was the quiet hallways, maybe it was the fact he hadn’t seen any other professors in the break room or around the school, or maybe it was the fact that when he walked into the Professor's office, everyone looked at him with…worry. 

“What is it? What’s going on?”

“Logan, I think it’s best if you sit down.”

Logan looked around everybody and they all looked worried, too. Not “someone’s dead” worried, but worried enough to make him feel uneasy. 

“What’s going on?”

“Have you seen Y/n today?”

Logan shook his head. “She had a late night. She’s probably still sleeping.”

Professor X looked at Storm. “Go and get her for me, please.”

Storm nodded and made her way out of the door and towards your bedroom. Meanwhile, Logan was still confused. 

“Charles, what’s going on?”

The man took a small sigh and looked at the papers on his desk before looking back up to Logan. 

“Come on, clearly everyone else knows. What is it?”

The Professor went back and forth with himself for a minute before finally looking back up. “I suppose I should tell you. You’re married, Logan.”

Logan laughed. “Excuse me?”

“I received these papers this morning from a law firm in Oklahoma. It seems it took them a while to find an address for you both.”

“Both? What?”

“Here, take a look for yourself.” The Professor pushed the papers to the edge of his desk where Logan took them with caution and a lot of confusion. 

“What the hell? When were these even..drawn up? Better yet, who’s my wife?”

“Well, that would be the other question except-”

Just as the Professor was about to finish his sentence, the door to his office opened and Storm walked in with you not far behind. Everyone looked at you…worriedly. Like they knew something you didn’t. 

Logan looked annoyed as he flipped through a couple sheets of paper but when he saw you, he held the same expression but only for a minute then it turned into…into something else. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

Then you remembered. 

It had been laundry day. 

And you wore one of his shirts to bed. 

Standing in his t-shirt and some plaid pyjama shorts that you found in the back of your wardrobe, your hair down and slightly messy from having only just woken up, you looked around everyone. 

“What’s going on?”

“Well, Y/n-”

“Take a look at this.” Logan handed you the pile of paper he had been reading, and with a slightly tired and confused look, you read through it. 

What was it meant to be? A news article? A government contract? A kid’s essay who’s handwriting they couldn’t read…again?

But no. 

It was anything but. 

Well, maybe a government contract…of sorts. 

“This is a marriage licence.” You spoke aloud. “Logan, why am I looking at a marriage licence at eight in the morning? Oh my god, are Jean and Scott finally getting hitched. About time.”

“No,” Logan said. “It’s ours.”

“What?”

“It’s ours. We’re married.”

You stopped reading. Even if you had pretended to do so, all the words on the page suddenly became blocks of ink that you couldn’t make out. 

“What?”

Then the Professor started to explain. “We were hoping one of you could explain this to us, though if neither of you wish to, that’s completely fine. What happens between a husband and wife is none of our-”

“When did this even happen?” You asked Logan. 

“I don’t know.”

“A law firm in Oklahoma sent it over. Apparently it’s taken them a while to find your address.”

You thought for a moment. Yourself and Logan hadn’t been in Oklahoma for nearly ten months. And you certainly didn’t get married. At least, not from memory. 

“I need to sit down.”

Logan pushed out the chair beside him with his foot and you fell into the softer leather. You had just woken up and all of a sudden you felt like you wanted to sleep for at least a month. 

“We’re married? Are you sure it’s ours? Maybe they got the addresses mixed up and…I don’t know. Got it wrong?”

Logan leaned back and pressed his hand to the side of his face. “Flipped to the back page.”

And so you did. 

There was your name. And Logan’s. Signed and dated. 

You were married to Logan. 

Logan had become your husband as of ten months ago. 

You had become Logan’s wife. 

“I think I’m gonna puke.”

“You’re not pregnant, are you?” Scott said. Jean hit him on the arm. “What?”

“Hard to not be a little offended at that.” Logan said, half under his breath, half to you. 

“Do either of you know when this happened?”

You shook your head, still trying to read the pieces of paper in front of you. When could this have-

“The library.”

“What?” 

Logan sat up. “We signed for a package. What kind of delivery company has us sign a marriage contract instead?”

“I don’t know but it had to be there. That’s the only time we ever…wrote our names, signed a piece of paper. It could have been this.”

“We would have noticed if it said “MARRIAGE LICENCE” at the top of the page.”

Then the bell rang. 

“We…should pick this up later. For now, let's just try and go about today as normal.”

You could only nod in agreement. And as everyone left, the Professor turned to both you and Logan who were sitting facing each other in your chairs. 

“I’ll give you both some time.”

Logan nodded a small thank you and waited until the door closed behind Xavier before he spoke. 

You were silent. Still processing. Your heart was like rapid fire against your chest and your vision was slowly losing focus on the paper in front of you. 

Logan pulled the paper from your hands and placed it on the desk before shuffling closer and holding onto both of your hands. 

“Hey, hey, look at me.” One of Logan’s hands came to rest by the side of your face. “Just breathe. I can hear your heartbeat from here. Just…take a deep breath.”

“We’re married, Logan.” Your voice was quieter than usual. 

“I know.”

“We’re married.”

Logan nodded. “I know.”

“What are we going to do?”

“That one I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

You shrugged. “What are we meant to do? By all technicality…we’re married. Husband and Wife. According to this piece of paper, I’ve been a fraud to the government by not going by Howlett.”

“So we…we get a divorce?”

“How? Don’t there have to be…grounds for getting divorced?”

“So, we tell them it was a mistake.” Logan offered. “I’m sure we’ll be divorced as quick as we found out we were- are married.”

You could only nod. 

Logan rubbed a thumb over each of your knuckles. “Hey, we’ll be okay. It’ll all be fine. Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I woke up and found out I’m a wife with a husband. That’s what’s going on. Jesus, are the lights always this bright in here?”

You covered your closed eyes with one hand, trying your best to stop the pounding in your head. 

“How can you be so calm about this?”

Logan shrugged. “Figure you’re freaking out enough for the both of us.”

That made you laugh a little. 

“Come on, we need to get to class. And you need to get dressed. Unless you want to teach in your pyjamas.”

You looked down at yourself. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about using your t-shirt. Laundry day.”

Logan smiled. “It’s okay. Keep it. It looks better on you anyway.”

Hours later, you found yourself in a pair of jeans you fished from the bottom of your semi-fresh clothes pile and decided to keep Logan’s t-shirt on. A, because it’s one of the most comfortable things you’ve worn, and B, it was the only clean top you had. 

And after spending all day teaching classes, you found yourself going through each of your dirty items and throwing them into the washing machine, being careful to make sure there were no sneaky bright or dark colours that made their way into a wash they shouldn’t have been in. 

“Hey.”

You turned to find Storm waiting by the door before walking inside. 

“Hey.”

“How are you feeling?”

“After teaching a bunch of teenagers all day? Exhausted.” You said with a small laugh. And Storm chuckled for a moment before walking around you and leaning on the wall so she was facing you as you unloaded your dirty laundry into the machine. 

“I know that feeling but that wasn’t why I was asking.”

You nodded. You knew that. “I don’t know. It’s just…new information.”

“Have you seen Logan today?”

You shook your head. “Not since this morning. Though he did leave a coffee on my desk when I got back to my classroom after lunch.”

Storm smiled. Between herself and the others (including the kids - though they were yet to find out) Storm thought the best thing to happen was for yourself and Logan to get married. Okay, maybe not in the way it happened. But it was a positive thing. 

They had been watching you and Logan for years, becoming friends, becoming teammates, trusting each other, finding your own…ways together. Like with the coffee. Logan only did that with you. Or how, despite only knowing him a week, seemed to know more about him than anyone else did. 

You were both so close with each other than some of the kids in the school had questioned your relationship status with each other. 

“Have you talked about what you’re going to do?”

“What can we do? The most reasonable, and sensible, thing to do is get a divorce.”

Storm crossed her arms. “Have you talked about maybe…staying together?”

“What?”

Storm shrugged. “It’s an idea. Maybe this is a sign telling you both that there’s something more than just friendship. I mean, going off what you’re currently wearing…that is his, isn’t it?”

You looked down. 

“It’s laundry day. He let me wear it.”

“And are you going to give it back, or did he tell you to keep it?”

You were silent and Storm watched as small patches of blush warmed your cheeks. She had her answer. 

“Look, all I’m saying is, maybe this is a sign. Maybe this is your chance to see if there is something more between you and Logan.”

“If there was, something would have happened by now.”

Oh, how Storm wished that was true. 

But sometimes it was agony watching you both together. Like how at Christmas, you fell asleep against him by the fire and Logan smiled. It wasn’t a big grin, but he smiled. Or how you were the only one Logan would let near him when he had been impaled in his shoulder by a six foot rod. Or how you looked at him. And how he looked at you right back. 

There was more than just friendship. A lot more. 

“Just think about it.”

And with that she left. And you were left wondering. 

What the hell was there to think about? You and Logan were friends, sure, but…more? Sure, when you first met him, it felt instant. Instant likeness, instant trust. And that never came easy for you. Or Logan for that matter. And, yeah, maybe once or twice you had thought something could have happened. 

Like the night in the motel room, funnily enough, in Oklahoma. 

It had been one bed and you had both woken up and turned to face each other. You had both been talking for a good twenty minutes when the conversation lulled and you were both there. You felt something. You couldn’t put your finger on it but you felt something. But everything was cut short when the owner of the Motel came to knock on the door so he could fix the leaky tap in the bathroom. 

Or like the night when you all went camping with the kids. 

Somehow, you had found yourself sharing a tent with Logan even though it had been planned for you and Storm to bunk. 

You teased Logan on how happy he was to be bunked with you and not Scott. And for a split second, you could have sworn you saw him blush. Though it was probably out of embarrassment of your teasing. 

But that couldn’t have been something. It couldn’t have meant anything, could it?

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Logan turned and found the last person he expected to be standing by the door. 

“Scott?”

“Figured you’d still be awake and lo and behold, I was right.”

Logan watched as he walked inside and sat across from him. “Have you come to say something, or just be a dick the whole time?”

Scott chuckled, “Maybe a bit of both.”

Logan raised his eyebrows and took another drink. 

“Have you talked to her?” Logan knew exactly who he was talking about. But he shook his head. 

“Not since this morning.”

“Have you talked about what you’re going to do?”

“What do you want, pal?”

Well, he wasn’t being Logan if he didn’t want to skip the pleasantries. 

“I think you and Y/n should give this thing a chance.”

“Excuse me?”

Scott smirked a little. “Come on, you can’t tell me you’ve not thought about it with her. How close you two are, how you both seem to know what the other does before they even do it. And call it what you want, I think this is the perfect excuse.”

“Perfect excuse?”

“To see if something can actually happen between you two.”

“And why should it?”

“Because you’re in love with her.”

For some reason, that felt like a punch to the gut to Logan. 

“Look, bub, I know-”

“Logan, the way you look at her isn’t the way a friend looks at another friend. I’ve seen the way you look at her. We all have. From day one, that girl has been something else for you, and even if you don’t know it, the rest of us do. You’re in love with her. You always have been.”

“No, I’m-”

“You can’t deny it, Logan.” Scott told him. “Eventually something is going to snap and it might be too late. So, you’ve done the whole relationship a little backwards. So what? You’d only get divorced anyway if it doesn’t work out. But you need to do something about your feelings, Logan.”

Logan had to laugh. “I think I’d know if I was in love with someone.”

Scott sighed. Did he seriously have to paint Logan a fucking picture. 

“You make her coffee every day. You bring her lunch and sit with her every day. She is the first person you go to when you finally want to ask someone for help. And I know for a fact she is the first person you tell anything to. She knows more about you than anyone else in this building does, and that is down to you and everything you have shared with her. Anytime anyone looks in her direction, you aren’t too far behind her.”

“I saw you, that day, when the Mayor and his brother turned up at the school.” Scott continued. “The way his brother was looking her up and down…Logan you were by her side in less than ten seconds and we all saw the look you gave him. That man left the Professor’s office trembling. He also never looked in y/n’s direction again.”

“What’s your point?”

“That you were jealous, Logan. And that, for as much as you can and probably will try and deny it. You love her.”

The conversation lulled for a moment. 

“All I’m saying is at least think about it. We’ve all seen you together. Maybe it’s time you finally noticed yourself.”

Logan didn’t see you until the next day when he caught you folding laundry in your room. 

“Want some help?”

You turned around and saw him. “Sure. You can start with that pile.”

Logan entered your room, a little more awkward than usual, and started folding clothes. 

“How are you…how are you feeling?”

You shrugged. “Like normal, I guess. What about you?”

“Yeah, fine.”

IT was a slight struggle after that but conversation flowed a little easier eventually. 

That was something Logan always loved when it came to being around you. He wasn’t the biggest one for talking to people but with you, it was easy. Probably helped by the fact you could somehow change topics at lightning speed. 

Conversations with you were never, ever boring. 

Even when they were probably meant to be. 

And it wasn’t long before your fear surrounding being married…faded. 

Around a week later, a leak had sprung on one side of the school which meant having to bunk rooms for a while. Of course, all the kids went with their friends. 

But it also meant you had to bunk with someone too. 

“You can bunk with me.” Logan told you. 

You nodded. “Finally sharing a room. Wow, we’re really moving generations in this relationship.”

“After you, wife.”

This became a common theme, until the weight of the words settled down on both of you once more. 

A divorce lawyer had picked up your case. 

It would take a couple of weeks to get all the papers sorted, but yourself and Logan would be divorced by the middle of the following month. 

Like nothing had ever happened. 

Except, it just so happened, that was when something did happen. 

Scott and Storms’s words had been playing on Logan’s mind and yours. Not helped by the fact it wasn’t the last time someone held that kind of conversation with either of you. 

You found yourself in a similar conversation with Scott, whilst Logan had a similar conversation with Jean. 

And then the Professor approached you both, without the other one knowing. 

Except he hadn’t been to sit down and talk to you about it. He just made small comments in passing that left you both questioning more and more about your true feelings. 

And then Logan found you in the library one night. 

“Here you are. You didn’t come to bed so…what are you doing?”

Standing close to the top of the book ladder, you were scanning through different books with a flashlight.

“The main light is too big and the fire’s light doesn’t reach this far back.”

Logan blinked. “That…still didn’t answer my question.”

“I’ve got a new semester of lessons set out. I wanted to get a head start on finding the books needed.”

Logan looked around. “You got a list?”

You looked at him. “Logan, it’s past midnight. Go to bed.”

“That’s not what I asked. Where’s your list? I know you’ve got one.”

Sighing, you reached into your back pocket and held it out. He walked over and plucked it from your fingers. 

“There’s twenty six books on this list.”

“And I currently have three. If you still want to help, any that you find, just place them on the table behind the sofa.”

And so he did. 

By two in the morning, you’d both found twenty three books in total. Just three more left. 

“Is this the right edition?”

“Let me see.”

Logan walked over to where you were still standing on the ladder and handed it up to you. You flipped through a couple of the first pages as you slowly climbed backwards down the stairs. 

“Yeah, this is the right one. The last two should be on a lower shelf.”

As you finally reached the last few steps, you felt your foot slip and your knees crashed against the bars. Except, instead of falling backwards, or rolling with the ladder itself, Logan’s hands steadied you. 

“You alright?”

You took a second to breathe. Having your life flash before your eyes for a couple of seconds really knocks the wind out of you. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed a little. “I’m fine.”

You turned in Logan’s arms and was met with his broad and solid chest as his hands held you at your waist. 

“Good,” Logan laughed a little, too. 

The sound of your life had always been like music to his ears. 

A comfort, even when the moment hadn’t been all that comfortable beforehand. 

And for that moment, time seemed to still. Any silence that had been in the room was slowly becoming defending, until your hearing focused on his breathing. The steady rise and fall of his chest and the quickening of your own heartbeat. 

The flashlight that you had held in your hands had rolled somewhere onto the floor when you slipped on the ladder. 

But you had never seen Logan so…clearly. 

You had known him for so long and had even spent nights and mornings in the same bed together. But for the first time, you were committing him to memory. Part of you felt like these moments would go, once the papers came through. That even if neither of you wanted it, something would inherently change between you both once the papers were signed and delivered. 

But something in that moment was changing too. 

Like how you were realising you never wanted to be away from him. That the best place on this earth was right where you were. In his arms, his eyes on you, and yours on him. 

You found yourself leaning in forward, almost as if, if you didn’t get closer to him, he might disappear. 

And he was doing the same. 

One of his hands came up to your face as he rubbed a couple of strands of your hair between his fingers before he slowly pushed it back and let his gaze wash over you. 

He was committing you to memory, too. 

His eyes locked on yours once more, just as his other hand trailed down your waist and to your hip. 

You fell closer to him. 

Or maybe he pulled you closer. 

Either way, you never wanted to be without his touch. 

What felt like an eternity later, you finally felt his lips against yours and yours against his. 

It started off slow. This was new territory for you both when it came to the other. It was slow, full of mixed feelings and…something else. 

Then it snapped. 

Logan pushed a little harder and you felt your legs hit the back of the book ladder just as his hand and arm snaked around and up your back, holding you flush against him as your own arms pulled him closer to you. 

Logan braced the hand that had been by your face, by the side of your head, holding onto the book ladder, keeping you both steady. 

And he felt your breath hitch as he stepped into you. 

Before you knew it, you were braced against one of the bars on the ladder as Logan’s lips went from yours, across your jaw and down the column of your neck. A small grunt escaped him as your own fingers scratched through the back of his hair and down the back of his neck. 

However, just as his lips returned to yours and his hands slipped under the hem of your t-shirt– his t-shirt, as your own started reaching for the hem of his…a clock went off. 

“W-w-w-w-w-wait. Wait. Stop.”

“Is everything okay?”

You swallowed. “Yes…no. I don’t know. We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Logan wanted to ask “Why? Why shouldn't we?”. But instead, lowered his head. He knew why. 

“You’re right…you’re right.”

Your own temple came to rest against his for a few moments, neither of you wishing to leave the moment just yet. 

“We should go…before someone comes in.”

“It’s two in the morning, who is going to come in?”

“I don’t want to leave.”

“Then don’t.”

You stayed quiet for a long time, feeling Logan’s fingers draw circles over your skin. Eventually, the only sound you heard was his heartbeat and his breath, slowly matching your own. 

But no matter how much of you told you to stay, you tried your best to fight it. 

You and Logan were friends. Friends who were about to get a divorce from a marriage neither of you could remember fully consenting to. 

“Goodnight, Logan.”

Reluctantly, you stepped out of his arms, his light grip on your hand not letting go until you were both too far apart to hold on any longer, and made your way through the school until you came across an empty room. 

It was the smaller quiet space that overlooked the back of the school. Perfect for the nights when too much noise was keeping you up at night. 

Except, it wasn’t noise keeping you awake. 

It was your own mind, relieving the one thing you thought you would never do with Logan. The one thing you wanted most to keep going. The one thing you would never forget. 

When Logan woke the next day, part of him thought it was all a dream. But even he couldn’t have dreamed up anything from the night before and have it still feel so real in the morning. 

Then he didn’t see you for three days. 

Save for one moment when he brought a box of your things from his room, to yours. You opened the door, wearing another one of his t-shirts. One that went missing months ago. One that he had seen on your at least a dozen times since. One that he felt he was truly seeing for the first time, on you. 

The exchange, coming from the both of you together, couldn’t have felt anything more than awkward. 

And then another moment hit. 

You didn’t close the door. 

He didn’t know what to say. 

All he knew was that he wished he was back with you, in the library. 

And you were wishing the same thing right back. 

“I should-”

“You should-”

A small, awkward laugh came from both of you before eventually you shut the door, wishing you had enough confidence to open it back up and call after him. 

Two days later, Logan hadn’t seen you at all. 

And a morning meeting, with Storm going to get you from your bed, led to Logan realising why he hadn’t seen you. 

“She’s not there?”

Logan turned immediately. “What?”

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know. She’s not in her room or any other place she usually is this early in the morning.”

“Doesn’t she have classes to teach?” Scott asked. 

“She doesn’t teach Wednesday and Thursday.” Logan told him. 

And it wasn’t long before Logan heard his name being called behind him by Xavier as he marched his way out of the office and to every room he could think you would be. 

You were nowhere to be found. It was almost like you hadn’t been there for weeks. The books you had taken out – the ones Logan had helped you find – were piled neatly in your bedroom. On your desk, you had a small wicker basket filled with letters and postcards, all arranged in date order, the newest ones being at the front. 

The pictures you had on your windowsill displayed all the people you loved the most. And included a picture from when you had ambushed him on his birthday. He rarely, if ever, took a photo. 

But he smiled, albeit a little awkwardly, with you. 

“Where could she have gone?”

Logan looked around your room. You wouldn’t have just gotten up and left for good. You loved teaching your kids too much, despite whatever else had happened. 

Then Logan saw the framed pictures on the wall, just across from your bed. 

“I’ll check with Cyerbro. She couldn’t have gone far.”

“She could be half way across the world by now!”

Logan shook his head. “But she’s not.”

A lot of them were confused, but Xavier watched Logan for a moment. 

“Do you know where she is?”

“I have an idea.”

With that, Logan reached for the wall and pulled down one of the smaller frames and carried it out with him.

“Hold on, I’m coming with you.” Storm called out to him. 

“You don’t even know where I’m going.”

“Logan, you look like you’re just about ready to punch a bull. I know, right now, even if you are the last person she wants to see, you are the first person she needs. But that also means I know what you’re going to do and, love you or not, Y/n wouldn’t want you to hurt someone or even yourself to find her.”

And Storm was right. 

And she was right to tag along. 

Because just five hours later, Logan had pulled up outside a local pharmacy. They had received a call on the way; they were heading in the right direction, but they needed to go into the town first. Any chance of finding where she was in the mountains lay where she had been all day. 

And it wasn’t long before Storm had to step in to stop Logan from almost killing the cashier. 

He had been dancing around the question, leading them all on different tangents of conversation about the town and the people in it before finally he got to his answer.

The cashier nodded. “I don’t know where she lives, but Connie might. She knows everything in the town.”

“Where is Connie?”

The cashier pointed out of the door. “In the bakery, across the street.”

“Thank you,” Logan told him, swiping the picture back up from the counter and walking outside. Storm stopped short behind Logan when she saw he wasn’t moving off the sidewalk. 

Then she saw. 

You had just left the building and climbed inside your beaten up, old Jeep Wrangler. You pulled out of your parking spot and drove off down the street. 

And Logan followed. 

However, halfway up the road, he started to recognise the place. He’d been here before, except he was going up the way he would come down and out of the cabin. 

So, he took a turn. 

He was at your cabin ten minutes before you were. Storm had stayed behind in the town to call the others and let them know what was going on. 

“You fixed her up well.”

You jumped at his voice and threw a can of pumpkin puree at his head. Though he managed to catch it before his head made a dent in the can. 

“Jesus, Logan.” Then you realised. “How did you find me?”

“You forget that I know you. The pictures on your wall. They’re a lot more recent.”

You didn’t know what else to say so you turned back to your front door and pushed it open, Logan hurrying after you. 

“Why did you leave?” He called out, placing the can on the side. 

“I didn’t leave.” You called back as you unpacked some of your groceries. 

“You disappeared into thin air but you weren’t abducted. I’d call that leaving.”

“I needed a break, Logan. I needed…time.”

“Time from what?”

“From everything. From you, from marriage, from the school, from the library. It’s like I woke up one morning and, quite literally, everything had changed. One day we were- we were teachers and friends…we were us, Logan. And then…we kissed and…I don’t know what we’re meant to do, Logan.” You dropped your head as you pressed your palms onto the kitchen counter.

“Maybe we’re meant to do nothing.” Logan walked towards you. “Maybe we keep things as they are.”

“What? Single and married?”

Logan shook his head, bringing his hand to pull yours to look at him. 

“Married and together.”

Your lips parted for a moment, your eyes scanning his face, waiting for the joke to have its punchline. 

“So, we did everything a little backwards?” Logan shrugged. “So what.”

“Logan…”

“I love you, y/n.” Logan told you, nothing but seriousness and truth in his eyes. “And I think you love me, too. But you’re scared. And so am I. Do you love me, y/n?”

You were trying your hardest to keep your emotions inside you, but something was failing. “Of course I do.”

“Then we start here, just you and me.”

“If something goes wrong, I can’t lose you. You mean too much to me, Logan.”

Logan smirked. “Good job I can regenerate.”

You scoffed and hit him in the shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

Logan nodded, a faint smile on his face. “I know. You’re not going to lose me, Y/n. You couldn’t ever.”

“Promise me.”

Logan nodded. “I promise. Can I kiss you now?”

Logan didn’t have time to finish his question before your lips met his in a searing kiss, your hands pulling him closer to you whilst his own arms wrapped around you. 

Maybe you had done the whole relationship thing backwards, but that didn’t matter. Not anymore.

Not when you finally had each other for life. 

[cherryheairt]

Dragon Dreamer pt. V

sorry for the wait, I'm trying to do a mix of longer and shorter chaps depending on how much time I have. Love yall 🩷

tags- @beebeechaos @hueanhdang @emery-aka-emmy @r-3dlips @watermel0nsugarhigh @delaynew

cw- blood, death

"I'll find her." Cregan promised the she-dragon, not stopping to wonder if it understood his common tongue.

He sat upon Red's saddle, looking out into the dim forest. He prayed of the old Gods that she was only lost.

🗡

Daenys had yet to find her mysterious calling. It wasn't a voice or a message, but a persistent tug in the forefront of her unconscious mind. The snow seemed to fall harder the deeper she continued into the forest. She was unsure which way she had come from, but knew it didn't matter now.

White fortresses of snow grew all around her, trapping her from going any other direction. Squinting, she could barely make out a few feet in front of her face. This must be some cruel game the gods were playing, toying with the Princess before leading her to her doom. Perhaps a frozen lake would be fitting. She wouldn't even know that she was standing in the middle of one until she was frozen in the icy depths.

Or mayhaps a cliff so monstrous that the jagged edges left nothing of her mortal body left behind. Whatever it was, Daenys just wished she would reach it already. Now that she was wide-awake, the cold was getting to her, mentally and physically. Even the well-suited fur dress was not enough to keep her alive forever. She needed fire, warmth.

And what of her most recent vision? Tame in nature, but harrowing to her poor heart nonetheless. Daenys had never seen Rhaenyra so undignified before, flying on Syrax in a dirty, worn dress and covered in soot and sand. Her hair was in a loose braid, clearly one meant for sleep and not council duties. She was searching for something that no one else could find. A dragon, perhaps? Maybe Seasmoke had become active again after his depressive state from Laenor's passing. The grey dragon had always liked Rhaenyra. The married couple often rode their dragons together to spend time away from King's Landing. Daenys was sure it would obey her still.

But that look on her face. The same one she wore after returning from her birthing room, without baby Visenya in her arms. Puffy face, red eyes, downtrodded posture unbefitting of the new Queen. It was all the same in her dream, maybe even worse. Daenys was glad that her mother was with Syrax, for the she dragon would keep her safe no matter what.

She smiled slightly at the remembrance of Syrax, the princess dragoness. Though Morningstar was not born from Syrax's clutch, the two had bonded as if they were truly kin. Daenys had even commissioned an iron star-shaped chain to be the dragonsaddle's chestpiece. Rhaenyra had given Syrax a similar heart-shaped chestpiece in her youth and was happy to see the white dragon doning a matching article.

Daenys suddenly felt a pang in her heart, clutching the star necklace hanging at her neck. Guilty ate at her for leaving her loyal dragon behind. She missed her warmth.

She missed Cregan's, too.

She longed for either's protective embrace in this desolate wood.

"Find me," she whispered to the nothingness. The air seemed to still, freezing Daenys in place. She listened for something, anything. She no longer felt the incessant tug. Her mind cleared.

A crunch of snow was her answer.

But Daenys hadn't moved an inch.

"Cregan?" She asked, louder. "Are you here?"

No answer but the one in the wind, like a solemn wolf's howl.

Another crunch. Another step. Cregan would've answered her by now, surely. He was not one for callous pranks or jests. Daenys wasn't alone anymore. Was this the destination? Her mind's call? Would it be a wise seer, or a vessel sent by the gods to deliver a message? Swallowing, she hoped that the entity was merciful.

A low growl answered her desperate wishes.

A wolf.

Not Dusk.

Shit.

Daenys stilled her breaths, bracing her legs into the snow. What does a weaponless person do in the face of a predator? She'd never been taught such survival methods. The Red Keep's wildlife consisted of garden rabbits and squirrels, and Dragonstone had naught but sea creatures and crabs at its disposal.

Her eyes caught the slow movement of the creatures paw, striking dread straight into her heart. The form was smaller than Dusk, by a lot. Direwolves had a size no natural animal compared to. But this one seemed smaller than an average wolf, too. Perhaps a wolf in its teen years, just recently leaving its pack to stake his place in the world.

It was a slim thing, thick coat not enough to hide its ribs. Poor thing. It was starving, clearly. Daenys would have the heart to help it if only she wasn't the current prey he had in mind.

It was survival of the fittest in this world, after all. A dragon and a wolf. Any person with common sense would declare the dragon the victor before the fight could even start. But what was the blood of the dragon without the dragon? Daenys began to wonder if there was anything special about the Targaryens besides their dragons. They gained no special traits. No endurance, strength, speed. Without Morningstar, was Daenys worthy of her namesake? Lightbringer, the realm lovingly called the beast. Fearsome and powerful, a shame that the dragon will never be given glory like other dragons of history.

The dragon wouldn't be winning wars, protecting Westeros, or even stationed at a House to guard. All because of the rider she was bestowed.

A wolf does not care for blood.

They stared at each other, neither blinking nor moving.

Run or fight.

Run or fight?

Her only two options, and both would lead to her death. It wasn't nearly as merciful and quick as a frozen lake or a jagged cliff would be. No, she would be torn apart kicking and screaming.

If she charged it, would it run or have the courage to meet her head on? No, it would not back down. A starving dog hunts best. A starving wolf cannot risk failure.

What would Rhaenyra do? What would Daemon do?

Rhaenyra might stand her ground, ever the Dragon Queen she was. Mighty and proud, though she wielded no sword or plated armor.

Daemon wouldn't hesitate, drawing Dark Sister from its sheathe, beheading the wolf with a triumphant laugh.

Daenys was neither her mother nor her step-father, though she wished futility to be an image of them.

Cregan? Perhaps he would tame yet another wolf, seeing as he clearly had an affinity.

What would a northerner like Cregan Stark do in the face of a wild wolf? Unarmed, unshielded. Pray? Take the death as the will of the Gods? Maybe.

Daenys Velayron was far from a northerner. Fire and blood hot through her veins, not ice or faith. The way of the dragon was to be unchained, forever standing tall above the realm.

Though, wild animals have no reason to care for heritage or blood. The meat on her bones was all it could see.

A wolf does not care for blood.

Daenys exhaled, long and slow. Run or fight. Fighting a starved wolf meant death, instantly. Running gave her a chance at finding a tree or rock to climb–anything to get her a vantage point.

The choice was clear.

She just needed to act.

To turn your back on a predator was to sign your own life away.

Daenys, ever so slow, unbuckled her fur coat from her shoulders. The grey wolf eyed it, snarling. Its yellow eyes grew brighter, like two harvest moons shining against the fallen snow.

Daenys mustered up all the courage she could manage, heart pounding, throwing the fur coat across the distance to the wolf. Immediately, it took it in its maw and ripped its head back and forth wildly. If it were a hot-blooded prey, the coat would be dead with blood spattered all over the snow.

Daenys ran, wasting no time watching the display.

She hoped to blind it temporarily, but it catching the furs was a better outcome than missing entirely.

She panted, adrenaline coursing through her to give warmth and strength to her limbs. They burned with the sudden exertion. Daenys could hear the wolf throwing the fur away, not being able to gather any sustenance from the useless garb.

It barked frustratedly at her disappearance from his sight, quickly giving chase to the girl.

Daenys could only hear her heart beat out of her chest and the sounds of the snarling chasing her, closer every second. Her eyes flew around wildly, hoping to spot a low-hanging but sturdy branch. Kind of difficult when running at full speed. Screeching at a bite nipping at her heels, she jumped to the nearest branch she could reach, not having any time left to search. Daenys managed to pull half of her body over it before the wolf's teeth were on her skirts, tugging violently.

She cried out as she hit the cold floor, winded from the wall. The wolf planted itself over her, leaving no room for escape, nipping at her face. Her arm instinctively flew to protect her throat and face, resulting in the wolf's jaw clamping right down on her forearm. She screamed in agony, flames of pain running through her arm. She kicked at its flank while it snarled deep and heavily, salivating through her arm. The blood and saliva from her arm dripped down hot streaks to her face, blinding her.

When the wolf let go of her arm, bracing to go for more vital parts of her to end her squirming, Daenys accepted her fate. The kicks had done nothing. It hadn't moved an inch nor showed signs of pain. At least her death wouldn't be completely useless. The wolf would be fed, for perhaps a few weeks until it could find another easy prey.

Above her, the yellow eyes were lit with hungry and drive.

Daenys closed her eyes tight, hoping for the end to be swift.

But, she did not feel the jaws of death.

She felt the hot sting of blood being poored onto her exposed skin. She shot up, feeling the head of the wolf fall onto her chest. In a horrific pool of blood and bone, the wolf's head went to her lap as she sat up. Daenys froze, chest heaving with panicked breaths. She wanted to toss the head off of her, throw up, and cry all at once. But she was frozen with shock.

"Is that you, Princess?"

That was not Cregan.

Daenys lifted her gaze from the head to the voice. A man, tall and sharply built, dressed in all black. Perhaps close to Daemon's age, with a salt-and-peppered black beard and hair.

She could only stare at him, eyes wide with terror and adrenaline leaving her body. The pain in her arm was flaring, only growing as it bled onto the snow. It could hardlt be called snow anymore, the radious around Daenys was pure blood red, including herself. Her hair was dyed red, too, sullying into her usually perfect white. She was sure she would never feel clean again, that the hot blood would remain on her forever.

"My lady, focus on me." His words were stern as he knelt to meet the Princess, a hand on her face.

She listened, looking into his crystaline blue eyes. A northerner, he must be, born and raised. "...Ser?" She whispered, hoarse.

He nodded, focusing her face to his and not letting her gaze drift. "Where are you, Princess?"

The question startled her from despondency, confused. "Where am I? The North?" She asked.

He chuckled at her bemusement. "Aye, lass. Very good. What's your name?"

She felt annoyed suddenly, this man was asking very stupid and obvious questions. He called her Princess, he must know the answer. "Daenys Velayron. Who are you?"

"The man who saved your life. You're very welcome, by the way." He smirked crookedly, chortling when she only narrowed her eyes.

"Seamus Knott, at your service, My Lady. I am sworn to the Wall, though, so I am no Ser." He bowed dramatically, though his bitter smile showed his discontent with his position. Perhaps he was sent to the wall in a way he deemed unjustified. Whatever the reason was, Daenys did not want to be alone with him for long. The Night's Watch was loyal to the crown in respect only. She was content to visit, but only because Cregan would be there to look after her. Theives and rapers were a majority of the Watch, Daenys did not want to take any chances with them.

"Why are you so far from the wall, Seamus?" Daenys asked him, still sitting lamely in her spot.

He raised a brow, "why are you so far from your protector?"

She bristled, curling in on herself protectively. Had he been following them? For how long?

Seeing her demeanor shift, Seamus raised his hands in a show of surrender. "Not like that, your highness. I was simply speculating. A princess so far in the North hasnt happened in a century. You are news to us all. At Castle Black, we were informed that you would be arriving with Lord Stark soon."

It did make sense. Though, only three days had passed since they left–

"Step away from the Princess." A voice growled behind the Knott man. Daenys perked up at the sound, the familiar tone putting her heart and mind finally at ease. Ice was held straight to the back of his neck, a perfect extension of the Lord's arm.

Cregan stood tall and firm with his expression almost unreadable. Would he be angry with her for her recklessness, send her back to Dragonstone? Or perhaps he was more angry with the Night's Watch for spilling private information to all the residents.

"Cregan!" She gasped, trying to stand to her feet but was stopped by a wave of vertigo. Her feet were like water, unable to hold up any weight. She held her head with her uninjured hand, cradling the pain.

Cregan glanced at her briefly, brow furrowing at the state of her, before he stepped closer to Seamus. The tip was a mere inch away from the man's stubbled neck, though the older man paid it no mind. Grinning, "I saved the poor maiden, she'd be dead by now if I 'aden't. Where were you, Stark?"

Cregan's jaw ticked, "How did you find her? We're too far from any houses for this to be considered a mere coincidence." Clearly, he was ignoring the man's words. Probably because he was right. The blood had long cooled in on top of her, leaving the liquid to intensify her shivering.

Seamus looked down at him over his narrow nose, arrogantly sizing the lord up. His blood-covered steel sword was still at his side, clenched around a gloved fist. "I have been summoned weeks ago to head the beckoning of Lord Tully. I received a raven from Castle Black's Commander only a few days ago, informing me of the Warden escorting the Princess to the Wall. I merely wished to ensure our Princess' safety."

Cregan was unmoved. "I can handle that perfectly well. She is under my protection, my watch."

"Your watch hasn't even begun, Stark. You have no idea what it means to serve the wall. Sitting pretty in Winterfell while we work thanklessly for our keep." Seamus sneered, nasty expression twisting his uncomely features.

"Who's fault is that, Knott?" Cregan bit back. Daenys was left confused at their familiarity. Did they know each other?

Seamus' grip on his sword tightened, the leathery squeeze ringing in Daenys' ears unpleasantly. Her ears rang harshly, blood rushing to her head and drowning other sounds out. About to vomit her rabbit up or faint, she did not know. Dusk, who had been loyally by Cregan's legs, now moved to Daenys' side at the flick of his owner's wrist. She placed an unsteady hand on his brown shoulder, allowing him to take her weight as she leaned into his warmth. He wasn't quite as comforting as Cregan had been, but the relief was nice.

Dusk huffed into her ear, though he still stared up at Seamus the whole time. When Daenys fell asleep, the sound of steel sheathing filled her muffled ears.

🗡

She awoke to a weight over her body, bundled like a blanket. The strong scent of iron and wood filled her nose and surrounded her entirely. She opened her eyes to see Cregan at her side, under the cover of a tent. Looking around, she spotted none of her belongings. His tent. He crouched on his knee, tenderly wiping at her wound with a wet cloth. While he was deep in concentration, his brows knit together tightly, a frown dragging his handsome face down.

"Cregan?" He lifted his head to face her, turning his attention from her arm.

He smiled tightly at her, clearly still bothered by something. "My Lady, I'm glad to see you awake." Cregan told her earnestly.

Daenys sat up with his help, allowing his arm to linger at her back. "What happened to Seamus?"

Clenching his teeth, Cregan fought the urge to roll his eyes childishly. "Outside. Dusk is watching over him. I had to tend to you before I deal with him."

She kissed her teeth when she felt the sting of her arm come back. The wound was clean, though deep and raised. It would scar her for the rest of her life, a painful reminder of her dreadful night.

Cregan, noticing her downturned face, lifted her chin to look up at him instead. "It is a warrior's scar, Princess. We have that in common." He smiled more genuinely now as he lifted his sleeve to reveal his bicep, raised slightly with an old white scar, one that mirrored hers.

"Dusk bit you?" She gasped, brushing her fingertips over the scar. Gingerly, as if she thought it would still hurt him.

He chuckled fondly, watching her eyes rack over the scar. "When we first met. I was six and ten when I first became Lord of Winterfell. I was forced to imprison my uncle and his sons that day to take my place. I left for a solo hunt to be alone for a while.

He found me first. The size of a normal young wolf. We were hunting the same dear when I shot it down first. Dusk didn't take to kindly to that," He gestured to the teeth marks. "But I won that fight, gave him a scar to match. He's stayed by my side ever since." Cregan left out the part where he discovered his soul bonded to Dusk's, due to him being able to warg.

Daenys smiled, moving her hand away from his arm. "I'm glad I didn't have to fight Morningstar to get her to obey me." She laughed. Cregan laughed along, white teeth glinting in the light.

Cregan survived a direwolf attack all on his own when he was but a young man. Daenys would have died without assistance against her attacker when she was a woman grown. Clenching her jaw, she started, "I'm sorry for leaving last night. I...wish I could tell you my reasoning, but I don't know myself."

He took her face in his hand, inspecting it long and hard. Her violet eyes were half-lidded, a sign of her exhaustion. They still shined brightly in the day's light like they always did. Two perfect amethysts looking straight at him.

"You did nothing wrong, sweet girl." Cregan's thumb brushed the apple of her cheek, rubbing at the clear skin. She now noticed the feeling of the sticky blood was gone almost entirely, except from her dress. He had washed it all off of her in her unconsciousness. "You couldn't stop it, could you?"

Like he knew everything, Cregan seemed to hold all the wisdom in the world. Perhaps that was the result of being a Lord at six and ten. "I stopped walking when the wolf came." Daenys nodded.

He kept his hand in its place while he took a moment to think. "I should've been there, It's my duty to keep you safe, and I failed. Seamus is right, the creatin he is. If he hadn't come first, you wouldn't have come home to the Queen."

She smiled crookedly, telling him she was not upset. "From now on, I must insist." He focused entirely on her, making her face feel hot from the intensity. "You be with me at all times. In my tent, hunting with me, Hells, even on horseback with me if that's what it takes to keep you safe."

"I do not wish to be your burden, My Lord."

"I wish it," He shook his head, a secret pang in his heart that she hadn't called him by his name again.

"Even while you hunt? I am not quite as stealthy as you, I would just scare everything away."

"I will teach you." Cregan said firmly, leaving no further room for arguments. "We will stay in larger clearings from now on, even if it means walking greater distances. I want Morningstar to be with us as we sleep. I do not trust Knott."

"Speaking of," she started, tentatively. "How do you know him?"

He sighed deeply, reaching into his satchel bag to grab a roll of bandage. While he worked on wrapping her arm, he spoke. "My father and him grew up together. His brother, the Knott heir, warded with my father for some time to learn his Lordly duties. Seamus just tagged along because his father wished to be rid of him. He was a jealous, spiteful person even as a boy. When their father passed, he left everything to his rightful heir Kent.

Seamus killed him when he had not even been Lord for a year. He was sent to the Night's Watch by my father, a worse punishment than death for a man who only cares for titles and power. In the Watch, all brothers are equal."

"I do not want to kill him because he saved your life. I also do not want him anywhere near you." Cregan grit his teeth, frustrated at his torn opinions. He owed the man what he asked of, which was simply to accompany Cregan and Daenys to the Wall. Cregan cursed himself for his own honor, the Lord of Winterfell always kept his word.

"I promise, if he does anything, anything, to make you uncomfortable, I will take care of him." Cregan told her, earning a short nod from the Princess.

He stood, bandage firmly in place, helping her up with a sturdy hand. "Change your dress and wash up, then I will bring you hunting." It was too early to allow her to sleep, he wanted her to sleep tonight so that they may only travel during the day. They had completely lost this day thanks for the circumstances, and he wanted to spend the remaining time doing something useful. Also, he wanted to keep his mind of maiming Seamus where he stood.

While Daenys changed, she grimaced at the sight of blood that had made it way further down her dress. The garment was not fixable without a miracle, so she left it outside of the tent for Dusk to use as a temporary bed. Less weight for Mylo to carry, she supposed. Daenys scrubbed the dried blood from her neck and chest, not yet able to clean out her hair. That would take running water, not a damp cloth.

Stepping outside, she doned a new white dress, lined with grey fur. The sight of grey reminded her of the young wolf, filling her heart with guilt. She hoped he hadn't felt fear or pain in his quick end. She was met with Seamus, standing a few yards away from her tent. He wore a wild and proud grin, baring his teeth to her.

"Princess! You're awake, how delightful." She nodded her greeting stiffly. "I have a gift for you to take home, a proper warrior's trophy for the Queen." He presented the wolf's head from a bag attached to his belt, its yellow eyes still wide open, but holding none of its previous hunger. Daenys gasped in horror, bringing a hand to her neck. Cregan, who'd been waiting near the edge of camp for her, strided forward.

"Is this a cruel joke on your Princess, Knott?" He began, hand hovering over Ice. Before Seamus or Cregan could begin to argue again, Daenys rushed forward to take the pup's head in her hands. Both men stared at her in surprise.

Without saying a word, though she had many specific words for the brute, she gently held the wolf's severed head as she brought it to Morningstar, who had been laying in the edge of the clearing. She looked grumpy already, perhaps because of the direwolve's irritating presence, but purred when she saw Daenys finally coming to her. Daenys sat the head gently in front of the dragon's head, "Daor havor."

"Dracarys." Daenys commanded the mighty dragon, stepping back many paces. The three people, and the curious direwolf, watched on as the dragon scorched the head until it was naught but ash. The snow around the head had melted to reveal black burnt ground. Silence filled the campground. Daenys bowed her head, whispering to herself. "Kostagon aōha iemny sagon forever lēda sir"

She turned to look up at Seamus, who had a strange look on his face. "That was a cruel thing to do, ser. Not to me, but to the poor animal who lost it's life to starvation."

Seamus clenched his jaw at the scorning, never having been told off by a girl, much less a younger one. "Aye, Princess." Was all he said, trodding off to sulk in his own small tent.

Daenys looked to Cregan, who smiled softly at her. "That was kind of you, my Lady."

She thanked him, "could we find a river before our hunt? I wish to rid my hair of this blood before it becomes permanently red."

He laughed jovially, agreeing. "I do not think red hair would fit you. White is your color." He gestured towards her dress, then to her dragon, making her grin warmly.

🗡

Cregan led her to the nearest water source he could find, merely a small stream, but it would work just fine. Politely, Cregan turned away, although she wasn't taking any garments off. She snickered to herself at his chivalrous attitude, refusing to watch a lady wash her own hair. It took a lot of scrubbing and numb fingers before she was finally content, seeing no more red wash out.

"How does this look?" She asked the man behind her, who turned to inspect her. Wet hair still dripping onto her furs, she looked as lovely and youthful as ever. Her hair seemed longer, curls not yet bunching it up. "Beautiful, my Lady." He offered her a hand. Daenys hoped that her cheeks were not visibly red at the simple compliment as she was lifted by Cregan.

He smiled that secretive grin once again, walking ahead of her. "We will set a snare up first. Then, I'll teach you how to make a kill."

Daenys swallowed harshly. The last thing she wanted to do was kill another animal. She knew it was necessary, though. The Gods would not be spiteful for Daenys filling her stomach.

She followed Cregan into the denser part of the woods, carefully stepping in every place he did. After a while of her silence, he glanced behind himself with a concerned look, only to stifle a laugh at her delicate tiptoeing. He shook his head good-naturedly, grateful that she was trying.

Daenys watched him carefully set up a snare with the coil of metal wire in his pocket. They both crouched over it, leaving it in by a rabbithole before moving on to set another. This time, Cregan gently instructed her to do her own. It took a while, almost thrice the time he took, but he never got impaitient with her. Finally, she set the wire to the sticks coming out of the snow, triumphantly looking to Cregan for approval. "You're a natural born hunter, Princess." He declared, watching her smile with pride.

The two sat far from their many snares for hours, sitting against a sturdy pine. No words were needed as they kept a comfortable silence between them, Daenys finding herself struggling to stay awake with the peaceful atmosphere. Cregan glanced to her from her side, placing a hand over hers. He traced symbols, cracked joints, and tapped their fingers together rhymically to a pattern she followed by doing the same back to him. The focus kept her awake, her mind on the new task.

As the sun was near setting, Cregan led her to his snares first, picking up two rabbits and his wires. He whispered Northern words of respect for the animal before swiftly stabbing it in the heart. They inspected Daenys' next, finding one rabbit struggling in it. She hesitated to step forward, only urged on by Cregan. "Here," he handed her his dagger, a fine piece of steel that had a direwolf's head placed on the pommel. She kneeled next to the rabbit, thanking it quietly for its sacrifice. She took a deep breath it, releasing it as she stabbed into the white chest. Daenys paused a moment, grimacing. Blood stained her leather gloves, another reminder of the wolf. He would haunt her forever, it seemed. She clutched the rabbit gently in her arms, holding it like she held baby Aegon and Viserys. Cregan fondly smiled at her. "You did well, Princess." They collected the wire, walking back to the campsite. After wiping the dagger off with a kerchief, she handed it back to him.

Cregan gently pushed it to her chest, shaking his head. "Keep that one on you. So I know you're safe, even if we're apart."

Daenys, awestruck, nodding slowly. This was her first gift from a person that wasn't her kin and not a new dress or piece of jewelry. "I will keep it safe." She grinned up at him, earning a hearty chuckle.

They burned one of the rabbits over the fire, sharing it amongst themselves. It seemed like Dusk had gone on his own hunt, gnawing on the leftover bones of his dinner. While Daenys and Cregan settled into his tent for bed, she felt too tired to be nervous. His comforting scent surrounded her like a blanket, his warmth radiating throughout the tent. He slept without the furs of his cloak, a wonder that Daenys was curious about. Did he run so hot that the chill of night didn't bother him, only needing one fur blanket?

Shaking the thoughts from her mind, Daenys snuggled into the furs he had given her for her own tent, almost grumbling at their lack of distinct scent. The two fell asleep side by side, the purrs of Morningstar soothing them to sleep.

Daor havor - not food

a wolf does not care for blood

Kostagon aōha iemny sagon forever lēda sir - may your stomach be forever full now

beheadings have become a trend in westeros, i see. i just remembered robb's direwolf and how he was grey.

did you catch that double meaning lol

also rip grey wolf, you would have loved being housed and fed in Winterfell by Cregan

I'm thinking that Morningstar is the child of Silverwing and Vermithor since they're a mated pair. We don't know if they produce asexually or not, so idk. Definitely Silverwing's baby though, since she's the only white dragon alive, but when I imagine Morningstar I see a white smaller version of Vermithor, I adore his horn and face design.

Who knows, the dragons seemed to be random colors. Arrax is white and Vermax is green, even though Syrax is yellow and theres no male whites or greens

[danosrosegarden]

*slides across the floor and strikes a pose with a rose in my mouth*

Ok hi it's meee! Idk if you take requests like this, but I had an idea that I think you could write FLAWLESSLY!

Ahem, I've written about Eddie boy being roomies with y/n before...but I wonder...

What if Edward is a huge creep and has this pervy crush on y/n as his roommate? Would he get jealous if they had friends over? Would he get angry if they went on dates? Oh dear, oh gosh, oh golly! What if he steals articles of their clothing for his own personal use?! Gee wilikers! What if he takes pictures of them when they are sleeping?! And what if he gets caught pleasuring himself to those pictures? *gasps dramatically* WHAT WOULD HAPPEN?!

(you dont have to write this if you don't want to i just thought I'd share this idea with a fellow Nashton lover <3)

if only - edward nashton x gn!reader headcanons (slight NSFW)

{contains: jealousy, creep behavior (laundry sniffing, taking secret pictures), and references to masturbation and sex.}

♡ Edward couldn't help that a swarm of bright, buzzing butterflies thumped loud and fast in the cage of his heart each time he laid eyes on you. It really wasn't his fault, it was yours.

♡ You were the perfect fill for his gnawing emptiness. You were shockingly beautiful and sharp as a knife and stupidly hilarious and the best roommate a Gothamite could possibly wish on a star for. He'd wait at the front door each time you went out, tail wagging like a needy puppy, pleading eyes filling with glossy tears. Come back soon, I miss you so much. He'd roll over and do tricks for you. He'd eat out of your hand and nuzzle against your neck, if you'd let him.

♡ For the first time in forever, Edward found himself talking to God again. More, he said. Give me more of them.

♡ You were the sparkling beam of hope in his life. The glittering ray of warm sunshine beaming down on the slushy, gray streets. But that was just the problem. Edward fed his heart that steady diet of unbridled obsession. He'd refresh your social medias like it was his job. He always hungered for more. He'd take measly scraps if it had the slightest trace of you in its aftertaste. He was utterly enamored, and you weren't.

♡ You were kind enough. You always helped with the dishes and never forget your share of the bills. You'd occasionally pick up snacks for him on your way home from work and you had no problem indulging in a movie night with him on the weekends. But you had warm, loving family. You had fun, exciting friends. Worst of all--the nightmare that ripped all the wings off the butterflies fluttering in Edward's heart--you got dates.

♡ He wondered, with a crackling storm of rage drenching him to the bone, if you did it on purpose. If you talked with your friends on the phone extra loud when you knew he was home about how lovely your date was, how handsome he is, how you just can't wait to see him again. For fuck's sake. Edward would buy all the colorful, sweet-smelling flower bouquets in the world, take you to all the expensive restaurants in Gotham. He'd blow those little maggots you saw out of the water. He'd sweep you off your feet and never let you go if only you'd let him.

♡ But he knows the depths of his spiraling infatuation, and he sure knows he'd much rather keep you as a friend than have you be scared of him. Just the thought of you finding the pictures he's secretly snapped of you makes his stomach churn. If you knew of the times he snuck into your room and rifled through your laundry basket to huff your clothes like they were candles, he'd probably jump into the sea with weights attached to his ankles. He was in a fucked up position. The passion he felt for you tingled in his blood and sprouted in his body stronger each day, but with each day you seemed to have another new story about your date, another text message from him to giggle and twirl your hair over, another party to go to. Edward mourned the life he could have if only he could be brave.

♡ Maybe this was it. Maybe he was destined to be the freak stroking himself furiously alone in his bedroom to your lingering scent while you went out and probably got fucked with mediocracy by your stupid date. Maybe it was fate that he'd end up here, stuck whining and bucking his hips to the pictures he'd taken when you weren't looking. Pictures of you making breakfast. Pictures of you solving one of his crosswords. Pictures of you smiling at the TV. Pictures of you living.

♡ He wouldn't take his time with you. Edward would. He wouldn't notice and memorize each whimper, each sigh, each wince. Edward would. He couldn't care like Edward does. If their dedication could stand side by side, he wouldn't even be close to competition.

♡ What a different life he'd be living, if only he had a spine. Maybe someday. Maybe someday he'd get to hold your hand and kiss you until he was breathless. Maybe one day he'd get to snake-charm groans of pleasure out of your throat and bottle them up for himself. For now, he could dream. That was something, right?

[amymbona]

I was thinking about being Patrick’s childhood friend and accidentally marrying him at Las Vegas. You’ve been in love with him for years and he with you, but neither of you know that the other is in love with each other. The marriage is completely legit and it’s weird, but it is so much work and money to get a divorce. You’re both close anyway and there are some benefits to staying married, so might as well right? Patrick agrees and you both go with it. The fact that you’re both secretly in love with each other has nothing to do with that decision of course…

Just all the domestic bliss of living with someone you’ve loved for ages but are unable to properly say it. Slowly coming to realize both of you are in love wirh each other and that this is the happiest mistake of your life.

(very vague ik but just some thoughts)

Ughhh imagine going on a lovey dovey honeymoon because both of you feel like two weeks spend tanning at the beach and drinking cocktails are more than needed. If Patrick is still playing tennis, he's like semi-famous, so the two of you might meet a guy or two who excitedly take selfie with him and then swiftly tweet how the Zweig guy is married!

The way the two of you act is a mix of friendly and romantic, cause nothing changed, but actually everything has changed. You know what I mean? It's no secret the two of you are touchy, giggly and all that jazz, like you've been best friends since you've learned how to speak! You genuinely don't mind if Patrick sees your boob when the top of your bikini slips while the two of you are swimming the sea; he literally held your hair and rubbed your back when you first got drunk, and changed a pad for you once as well. There's no hint of embarrassment or fear between the two of you.

However, for some reason, Patrick can't keep his eyes off of you. He's looking at you in such a different - lustful - way, but not in the sense that he'd bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you. God, you're glowing, you're like an angel, like a goddamn diamond that shines brighter than the cheap gold ring he put on your finger (he needs to buy you a prettier one). He longs to see you in pretty dresses, to lay in bed with you while you're reading your favourite book, to twirl your hair around his finger, to kiss your pink lips. But do you feel the same way about him?

And, oh, you do. You fucking do, and it drives you crazy. If only Patrick knew how much you wish you were one of the girls that are mentioned in articles about him, how much you wish that the two of you could go out in public and people would speculate it you're just a family friend or something more. And now you might have it, but is it really what you dreamed about?

It's like a fever dream to you actually, like a beautiful dream that you will wake up from once you make it back to the USA, slipping into consciousness and forced to part ways. What if the excitement will wear of? What if Patrick will realise that this situation offers no benefits at all and decides to go through the awful process of a divorce.

Patrick manages to convince you otherwise, especially when he scoops you into his arms while you're walking along the beach and threatens to drop you into the water, when he buys you your favourite flavour of ice cream and wipes a drop of it from your chin. The more Patrick does, the more you find yourself falling in love with him, which can't be good at all. But in the end, these are just the feelings that you've managed to repress for years, and maybe now, you'll be finally allowed to let them flow freely, considering you're officially Mrs Zweig.

[beautifulqueerexistence]

I remember standing in the bathroom of my Church’s Youth Group meeting at fifteen, hands pushing back my chest to try and imagine an alternative world where it didn’t fill out.

I remember telling my girlfriend at the time how I wanted a reduction, how my back pain was getting worse… but specifically leaving out the fact that my chest felt foreign and detached.

I remember my mom obsessively commenting on my long hair, never letting a day go by where I wasn’t reminded of how beautiful and healthy it was… how my long hair was a gift.

I remember the panic in middle gym class when the group was separated between boys and girls, my heart torn between the two before I even had the words or courage to understand why.

I remember cutting my hair, how many taunts and comments were made. “Such a shame,” I’d be told over and over from girls who envied the length I had freed myself from.

I remember watching the only openly out transgender kid having to walk half a mile across campus to change in the nurse’s office for gym class, only getting to participate in gym for ten minutes before he was forced to walk back to change in time for his next class. I remember how horribly he was treated by my peers, who called it his “walk of shame,” and promising myself that I’d never let myself be put in that position.

But most of all, I remember looking in the mirror after several weeks of isolating quarantine. The sting of my church’s rejection still fresh and the abandonment I felt from God. I remember begging to be fixed, to have this suffocating, confusing feeling torn out of the body that was supposed to be mine. I remember tracing over every little arbitrary gender rule, tearing through my closet of leggings, dresses, and skirts, unable to find a single article of clothing that actually felt like mine. I remember the bittersweet feeling of finishing a theatrical production, saying goodbye to the character I was expected to embody, and feeling that same nostalgia for the girl in the mirror before me. I remember suffocating out any piece of me that didn’t suit her role, the expectations people had for her, and feeling as though her very existence contrasted my ability to live. I remember how my life wasn’t my own, rather countless strings pulling me to dance and dress and act the part they all expected me to play. I remember the night I realized that stage was supposed to be mine.

I’ve been on testosterone for two years, and I get top surgery in 5 days. Though I remember the sacrifices I made for her character to thrive, I no longer find myself grieving who she could have been. Instead, I see a clear stage, ready for whatever set I build, whatever story I wish to portray. For the first time in a long time, the mirror in front of me no longer shows the girl I gave up 18 years for… but the person they were always meant to grow into. Though I now face my own version of the walk to the nurse’s office, I see now that his choice was one of bravery, not shame. He represented a courage I had not yet found, and planted a seed in me that knew all of this was arbitrary and pointless. Because he had chosen himself to be visible, I would eventually go on to set my weights down and join his stride. I don’t know where he is now, and I don’t know what lays in his walk… but I’m forever grateful he was bold enough to show himself for people like me.

[heartfullofleeches]

Incubus/Cupid Streamer Darling... Couldn't decide on one so you get both versions of this cutie

Incubus Darling - an idol of lust takes a different approach to their job by becoming a livestreamer and drawing their prey upon them as opposed to hastle of seeking foolish humans out themselves plus they don't have to actually touch any of them. They primarily focus on gaming and asmr - wearing as little clothing as guidelines will allow whenever they're on camera and post their various states of dress online to the hungry crowds.

They become a successful steamer with anything they could ever want thrown at them... which also includes things they don't. Stray messages pop up here and there of people confessing their love- not lust, to the demon. Wanting to take them out on romantic dates, wishing to grow old or even just hold hands with them. It confuses and shocks the devil to their core. They block these people, but they just make alt accounts and the cycle continues. The incubus' bewilderment is seen as the cutest thing to their audience so they dial back on the sexually charged flirting and compliment other assets they adore. Reader did not sign up for this, but it's all online so they should be fine. Until they find out they shouldn't click on every link that's sent to them

-

Yan Chat: I want you to [censored] my [censored] until I [censored]

Incubus Streamer: Yes... good...

Yan Chat: I want to us to have a spring wedding and grow old seeking no other comfort than being in each other's arm

Incubus Streamer: ... [dials the police]

-

Cupid Darling - A messenger of love that also takes a different approach to their job by becoming a livestreamer. Does gaming streams on week days and offers love advice on weekends. May not be as innocent as they seem to always forget to put on pants or wears tee shirts that are just a little too big/small - flashing the camera whenever they move to stand up.

They're the sweetest thing around, always encouraging their chat to go out and find true love when they've all found it right there in the form of their innocent angel. Gets so flustered and bashful from lustful comments their audience can't help up send in more and articles of themselves to help reader along. Poor cupid sits on their floor with boxes of used lingerie and photos around them and is very tempted to use their offerings, but feels so so dirty for giving in

-

Yan Chat: Cupid? I really need your help :( There's this cute person I've been interested in and I have no idea how to even speak to them

Cupid Reader: Well tell me a bit about them and maybe I can help!

Yan Chat: You might know them. They have the softest looking wings and the cutest little halo. Their voice is so cute too- I just want to hear them scream my name as I grab their waist and just-

Cupid Reader, Visibly sweating: God, pick me up - I'm scared

-

Both are heavily sponsored by adult toy sites/sent them from their audience, but the differences are funny to me

Cupid Streamer, holding a dildo: Oh my... This is almost as big as m.... y heart! Aha!

Incubus Streamer, holding a dildo: Meh- Mines bigger. Wanna see?~

[onismdaydream]

bro, I've been wanting to read a step brother for a while now and I'm SURE that only you could do something as good as I've been thinking. So, can you do one where Leon (RE2) is fantasizing about his little sister? imagining how he could fuck and abuse his little sister's big breasts 🥺

sorry i made u wait for a month but i finally wrote something :3 i hope u like it!! <3

tags: mdni. 18+. stepcest (siblings). afab/fem reader. masturbating (m). voyuerism (leon watches reader without their knowledge). he's obsessed with your tits obvi. not proofread.

He didn't mean to. Honest.

But he couldn't help but steal a quick peek as he walked by your room, your door open just the slightest bit. He could see your reflection in the standing floor length mirror, the one with those little strings of ivy wrapped around the top. Your room was always so cute.

You were rifling through your closet, the hangers clanging into each other as you pushed past each article, trying to find the perfect outfit. Leon couldn’t wrap his mind around the amount of effort you put into your appearance. You already looked perfect in his opinion, no need to waste all that time getting ready.

Biting on your sparkling lip gloss covered bottom lip, you pulled out a frilly skirt, a pretty shade of pink that you always seemed drawn to. Leon suppressed a groan when you bent down to slide your lounging shorts off, his eyes glued to your panties. They showed off your ass in just the right way, hugging your wide hips and barely covering anything. It’s like you were putting on a show for him, like you knew he was there watching you. Wishful thinking, to say the least. Knowing you, you would slap at his chest, calling him a gross perv for staring at his step sister before you would run off and cry to your daddy. And then he’d get an earful from his mom and that wouldn’t do.

He should really stop, walk away while he was ahead, but then you started to twist your hips to watch the material twirl around you. And he was fucking mesmerized.

It’s not like Leon didn’t know you had a nice rack, he wasn’t blind. Especially when you would wear those tight tank tops or those low cut shirts that you almost burst out of, or god that absolutely not appropriate excuse for a swimsuit you’d sport during the summer. Family trips to the beach would make his mouth dry and he’d have to run to the bathroom to jerk off at the sight of your wet body. He would never admit how quickly he’d cum, his hand covered in sticky white as he tried to catch his breath.

But this was different somehow, more authentic. The lacy bralette didn’t do much to support your tits, the slight movements of your body making them bounce. He wanted to stick his head between them so bad. Suffocate him between those massive things and he’d die a happy man.

You seemed content with your choice, nodding your head with a soft hum before you walked towards your dresser to find a top. Leon could feel his cock straining against his underwear, the tightness becoming too uncomfortable to ignore. Thinking fast, he pulled out his phone and snapped some pictures of you, your full breasts and perky nipples beginning to prod at the thin fabric, a sight too perfect to not capture. His eyes caught your own in the mirror for a split second before he bolted as quietly as he could to his room.

Leon slammed his door shut and immediately fished his aching cock out, gripping at the base as his head tipped back against the wood. He didn’t even need the pictures honestly, the image of your beautiful tits at the forefront of his brain. God, what he wouldn’t give to just feel them in his hands, to grope and squeeze the fat of them. They’re probably so sensitive, you probably cry out when someone tweaks at your nipples. Probably liked them being sucked on, too. He could imagine you pulling at his hair as he licked and bit at those swollen buds, your voice turning whiny as it always does when Leon teases you.

Maybe he could convince you to let him fuck them, let him slide his fat cock between your tits. All you would have to do is push them together a bit, just enough so he could feel your soft warmth surrounding his length. Surely that’s not asking for much, right? It’s not like it’s actual sex so it’s completely fine. Just let him use your body for a bit and he’d make sure you felt good, too. Leon’s a nice guy, after all.

He didn’t even realize how hard he was fucking his fist until he felt the familiar coil tightening in his gut, his mind running rampant with images of you and your fucking tits. It was pathetic, really, how fast you get him all worked up like this. It hadn’t even been five minutes and he’s about to blow his load, his tip practically drooling with precum.

The sound of your voice calling out his name made him tip over the edge, a loud moan slipping past his lips as his jizz coated his hand and dripped to the floor. He could hear your hurried footsteps come closer to his room, your palm banging on his door as you yelled at him. So you did actually see him, huh.

He wipes his dirty hand on his pants, stuffing his twitching cock back inside. He didn’t really care to listen to exactly what you were threatening or what insults you called him, not that it really mattered anyway. Leon had a pretty good idea of what he could do to get you to shut up.

[babygirl-riley]

Can we get a little pt 2 to the breakup fic? Maybe even just a small Drabble of when Simon finds out what she did?

Hehehe you asked for it ❤️

Haunted Pt.II

Simon messaged you 2 days after the break up to talk things through. Only to find out that won’t be the case.

“I just wanna hear you. Saying, "Baby, let's go home" Let's go home. Yeah, I just wanna take you home.”

Warnings: mention of suicide, swearing, LITERALLY DEPRESSION, angst, drug mentions, alcohol consumption

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst

Previous part

Alternative Ending

0300

Simon sat on a chair with bourbon sitting next to him and a cigarette in his fingers, in a broken apartment glass everywhere, holes in walls, broken chairs, tv. It looked like someone broke in and just destroyed everything. Simon had a rage fit, tears falling down his face, screaming till his throat felt raw.

Why the fuck would you do this? Why would you…You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. He felt numb as he sat there drinking his life away, filling his lungs with cancer. Nothing won’t take this pain away. God you were alone. By yourself. Only if he didn’t kick you out, only if he was there to save you. To hold you. He sat there thinking how those days went, where he could have done something.

0800

Simon was upset the fact that you didn’t text him back. It’s been almost two weeks since the break up, usually when both of you would take a break, you’d come back and talk things through. Toxic? For sure but you are always on his mind, even the bad times.

He wished everything was handled better that night, maybe he should have sat with her and explained that he just hadn’t felt anything emotionally. That he didn’t mean to push her away. But that would be opening scrapped up wounds. Reopening them like a child playing with their scabs.

He didn’t know the events that happened after the break up. Simon just moved slowly, getting back to the single life scene being alone. It wasn’t until Soap brought up a news article.

“Aye have you heard about the police findin’ a body in the car last night? News been sayin’ it’s a druggie.” He said looking down at his phone.

They were waiting for a meeting, they just got back from a mission last night, and needed to go over somethings that happened during it. Simon was looking at his phone periodically.

Buzz buzz buzz

Unknown number popped up, he denies it as he listens more. “Did they say who they were?” Gaz asked leaning back in his chair.

“Nah, just says that the body is a week or more old. Poor thing.” Soap said putting his phone down.

Simon always remembered how scary it was to find his brother all fucked out by drugs. Helping his mother through the process of getting him clean. It was a fucking nightmare. He felt bad for the poor bastard’s family.

Buzz buzz buzz

He picked his phone up again with the same number. He denied it once more, as Price walked through the door. He should have answered. He should have left it alone at the same time.

1900

The number didn’t call back again after that but left a voicemail. He waited till he got home, pour a whiskey out for him as he stared at the voicemail. He grumbled under his breath as he pressed it, putting it on speaker.

“Hey son,” His heart dropped, he knew that voice. That was your father. He hated Simon, that was one of the many other reasons why they stopped talking to you. Simon felt his blood boil. “I-,” It went quiet for a moment before he heard a sob in the background. “You need to meet us at the hospital in downtown. As soon as you can.”

He snatched his phone and dialed his number. The ringing kept going. His heart racing. What happened to you? What did you do? Are you alive? Please be okay. He thought of the worst of the worst. Maybe you were kidnapped? Maybe you were assaulted?

“Simon?” Simon froze as he gripped the glass.

“Where is she?” Simon asked making it to the point.

“You should just come here son,” He responded his voice trembling. “We will talk here.”

He sighed and agreed. Maybe you drank too much, got back into that habit. You both will figure it out together, it is fine, you’ve done it before you can do it again. The drive there made his heart thump, your parents were always disappointed in your drinking. That was the second reason. You were not a nice drunk for sure but Simon knew the real you.

“Why do they hate me?” You cried as you threw the last tequila bottom across the room. Simon stood still as he watched you pace back and forth. “They told me to never come back home. They don’t like the fact I am with you OR my drinking. I don’t have a problem Simon.”

He knew why you drank, the depression, the PTSD, the pain of your surgery. It was too much for you beautiful brain. You took pills for depression but it seemed to not help lately. Simon shouldn’t have let it go this far. He has seen it with soldiers, being discharged because of the problem.

“Little one,” He said walking cautiously to you. “Maybe we should come up with a plan.”

You scoffed. “What plan?” Your eyes were wet, not all there, distant.

It reminded him of his dad, not that you were beating him just the face. Face of anger mixed with sadness, you were in pain. His sighed cupping your face. “To stop drinking,” You were about to object before snapping your mouth closed. “Doing this to yourself isn’t gonna work sweetheart.”

“Are you gonna leave me?”

2000

That rang through his head as he stood in front of your dad. Confused. No you wouldn’t. “Where is she?” He said looking up at your mom.

She was a mess, sat in the room that were for patient’s families when their loved ones pass away. Your mom had tissues in her hand as she kept sobbing. He snapped his head over to your brother. “Where is she?” Simon asked again.

Your father placed his hand on his shoulder. “Simon,” Simon brushed his hand off. “Simon listen. Did she stop taking her pills?”

Simon laughed genuinely laughed. “No I made sure she took them every day.”

“Did she act different,” Your mom stood up. “Did you notice ANYTHING different with her?!” She rose her voice which made Simon’s blood boil. “All her things were in her car! What did you do?”

Then it hit him. Not the last couple of weeks did he make sure. He kicked you out that night. His heart stopped. “We fought that night, nothing crazy.” He mumbled looking away.

“Nothing crazy!” Your mom yelled. Your brother walked to her whispering to her. Trying to calm her down.

“Allison,” Your father whispered. “Enough, son take her outside for a moment.” Your brother nodded walking her out as she sobbed. It was eerie quiet. He killed her. Simon killed her. If he didn’t kick her out she would be here. She would be in bed with him. Not being examined by strangers. “Simon,” Simon didn’t look at him. He couldn’t. He killed his baby girl. His child. “Simon this isn’t your fault.”

Simon scoffed. “I kicked her out.”

It was quiet yet again. “We disowned her for stupid reasons.”

2200

It was a few hours before a doctor came in, letting them know that it was a drug overdose. Irony. This was irony. Your mom sobbing harder, brother holding her, your father now crying, and Simon still as a rock. You were gone.

The doctor mentioned that they were aloud to see you. That you were cleaned up enough to say their goodbyes. Simon wanted to scoff at that statement. He let your family see you first, he didn’t think he could see you. Or deserve to.

He watched as your mother and brother walked out, your father walked to him. “You should go back there. She looks…” His lip trembled. Simon looked away and nodded, your father patted his shoulder.

2243

The nurse took him back to the room you laid in. They haven’t covered you yet, he stood in the doorway as the nurse walked in. You were pale, your skin having no color. The color that brought you life, the lips that once was moving and smiling.

He walked all the way in, feeling his skin tingle, his heart racing, his chest tighten. Simon swallowed the bile quickly before it came back up. The nurse stood on one side of you as she looked at the taller man. “We are going to have to take her in less than an hour sir. Police want to look more into the toxicity.”

Simon wanted to throw the small lady, she was doing her job for sure. He just didn’t want her to take you away, secretly he would hope that you would take a quick breath and say jokes haha. But you laid still.

Simon walked to your side and placed a hand on your cheek. “I will leave you alone.” The nurse said as she walked out.

Why did you do it? What were your last thoughts? “Come on sweethear’, just open them.” He whispered running his finger down your cheek.

It was his fault. He kicked you out. He pushed you away. He left you alone knowing damn well you had nowhere else to go. Was it because he didn’t believe that you would leave? That you would be home waiting for him begging to talk about it?

Simon knelt next to you and placed his head on your hand. You can’t be gone. Please. Please don’t be gone. “Let’s go home baby. We can forget all about it. I know you didn’t mean to, I know you love me,” He looked back up to your face. Unmoving. Pale. Cold. Alone. He felt the sting pinging his eyes as water started to blur his vision. “I need ya, please just wake up. I’m sorry. ‘m so fucking sorry.”

The nurse found him laying next to you holding you as he sobbed. Combing through your hair, whispering sweet things. Begging for you to come back to him. The nurse left him alone with you for a few more hours, letting the cops know that your family was still saying their goodbyes.

0304

Simon sat there numb. Tears still spilling. He just wished you were here instead of being alone. He wished he never kicked you out. He wished that he would have been able to tell you his emotions. He wished for you to be here, in front of him.

None of that was going to happen. Simon won’t be able to make you laugh one last time. Simon won’t be able to laugh with you as you made a competition of you can stuff more grapes in your mouth. Simon won’t be able to feel your warm skin against his. Won’t have the chance to talk about children. Marriage. Fuck even retirement with you.

And it was his fault. It was his fault that you took your life and the last thing on your mind was that you were unloved and alone.

He wished he could go back to when you were here. Alive. Maybe in another life you two were happy, alive, and not fucked up. But that wasn’t the reality. Reality was that you were gone and he was here. Alone.

[astrologylunadream]

Someone Wants To Comfort You Right Now📱🌪🖤 (Pick a card/Tarot reading)

Hello, this is Lunadream✨ This reading is meant to turn your sadness⛈ into sunshine🌤! Hopefully it works, we will find who is reaching out to comfort you and why~♡ hope you find your message📬��

Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)

Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think deeply how you feel right now, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~✨

Pile 1🧤

Pile 2🦋

Pile 3☯

Pile 4💀

Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡

On to the readings —> ☆✨🖤

Pile 1🧤

Sign energy: Indecision, Violence, Impact, Chemistry, South node, Virgo, Pisces, Jupiter, 8th house, Vertex, 🔪🩱🗞🤒

🌧Your energy: Aww you guys I just want to give this pile a big hug🖤 You have been through a LOT in the past, and now you don't even know what to think of it. Some of you are Virgo, Pisces, Sagittarius and Scorpio. You have been hurt by others before, I am specifically called to say Virgo. Now this could be 6th house placements as well but you have been in some painful situations in the past, I'm so sorry but if you have been subjected to violence this is definitely your pile. You may have had huge intense feelings for those who only made you suffer, and used you for their own benefits. You could have been involved in a news article or have been associated with someone who made an impact on the news (I feel called to say someone being arrested, or violating the law). You may have a comfort stuffed animal, or have a comfort playlist. You have been hurt from close connections and experiences with intimacy. You may fear fate and feel like you are destined to be hurt (that is NOT true😰), I feel like this pile tends to tolerate a lot even if they shouldn't, you say you're fine when you are not fine😭 My pile 1's need to heal and be happy because you have dealt with sucking it up for too long.

🖤Who wants to comfort you: Vent, Event, Book, Seen, Eyebrows, 6th house, Pisces, Aries, Water, 12th house, 🤚🩹💙👸 Omg this may be someone who sees you often or at a regular spot, you may be unaware of them or not know much about them. Virgo, Pisces and Aries energy is coming through. This is a very mysterious person, they really want to hear you vent and let it all out. This could be your therapist, someone you have booked a session with or a scheduled a venting event (a vent event lmao what am I saying) this is someone who may have raised an eyebrow about your situation, they could be very nosy about your current state but only because they are worried about you. This is a spiritual and devine encounter for them to reach out to you, they want to send you love and healing.💌 I am called to say they wanna tell you "you are a queen, keep going and don't let anyone stop you from healing"👑 lmao, well they are right. This is a very spiritual individual, I'm getting that they read books a lot. They wish you would tell someone trustworthy how you are feeling, and what you have been through. This person wishes they could bandage your emotional wounds and help you up onto a pedestal of protection and strength. My god this is a really sweet person.🥺🖤

📬Messages from them: You and them, I wish you felt the same, I want to take your pain away, Ugh, I want to make you happy, I've seen other people, You have this look in your eyes, I can't believe it (😢💙💙) Extra cards: Previous, Finger, Order, Angel, Sweet, Neptune, Taurus, 9th house, 10th house, Scorpio (This could be a guardian angel for some of you♡⭐)

Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!✨

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the gloves emoji~🧤 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💙

Pile 2🦋

Sign energy: Father, Compulsive, Yellow, Fox, Passion, South node, Pluto, 5th house, 7th house, Air, 🕳🧠♑🔪

🌧Your energy: Alright my lovely pile 2's your situation is complex rn, I definitely see some you guys falling back into repeated cycles. Scorpio/Leo/Libra/Taurus placements, Pluto in the 5th house for some of you. Capricorn is coming out but I feeling a strong energy of hating Capricorn or those traits. If you like the color yellow this could be a confirmation💛 Some of you may have issues with authority or tend to rival those with power or control. Now this pile may have had a father (or more dominant parent) that you hate/don't get along with well. You have a mind of your own and you hate getting manipulated with it. You have experienced people in positions of power being very conniving and selfish, and you wish to have power over these people in order to protect yourself. My pile 2's have a very negative outlook on those that tell others what to do, but this is for a good reason. You don't want to support those who have power over you and others and especially choose to do bad things with it. In the past you may have felt very imbalanced or unfair, could be through your childhood. You often feel powerless or fall into the same connections and mind games, and omg you just wanna cut ties!!😫🔪✂️

🖤Who wants to comfort you: Position, Accident, Compliment, Far away, Late, South node, 9th house, Cancer, Juno, 5th house, ⛓🏝😔✔ Hmmm okay over all this is a very caring energy like you guys someone does really care for you rn💙 They may not be near you physically but they are comforting you the best they can. They want to protect and keep you safe especially from an emotional standpoint, this is a message for only some in this pile but I'm called to say that if you have been dating around or having casual meetings and not wanting to be in a committed romantic relationship, this person is telling you that you are at a point where you need to find a potential committed partner that will keep you safe because they are saying you may not find another chance.🥺♡ Now for some others in this pile this is someone you are refusing to commit to, and have been holding it off for a long time. A romantic connection is possible. You feel distant to this person whatever the case, as if you are on a deserted island far away. This person feels the need to find you my pile 2's, they also wish they could tell you how great you've done and how much you have learned.🤗 They hope you will be free from your mental chains and heal somewhere it is safe. This could be someone from college/university or an educator, they are very well cultured I'm hearing. Could have been an accidental meeting, this is someone from your past.

📬Messages from them: Have you heard of me? Imagine us together, Look at me, Your emotions are to intense, I knew you would feel this way, You might get hurt, You look to good to be sad, I feel so left out, (omg😭) Extra cards: Dating, Fit, Chains, Beauty & the beast, 12th house, Libra, Cancer, Neptune, 3rd house

Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!✨

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the butterfly emoji~🦋 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💙

Pile 3☯

Sign energy: Frozen, Chiron, Gossip, Soul connection, Over, Jupiter, Saturn, Air, Juno, Mars, 🎀🔜♏🧱

🌧Your energy: My pile 3's are thinking of someone right now🙈💗 I'm seeing some very cold energy though, some of you may have ended a relationship recently!! Something that hurt you greatly and now you will be healing to the fullest😩💙 This was most likely a romantic connection, and now you are putting your walls up from any kind of power dynamics, gossip, and mistreatment. I'm getting that for some of my pile 3's this was a Scorpio partner you chose to shut out. You are still stuck on that connection though, and I'm hearing you can't get over them (especially if you guys were intimate). You may have had a soulmate connection with someone but you have blocked yourself from having those types of connections because you don't want to make the same mistakes.😥😢 Sagittarius, Pisces, Capricorn, Scorpio and air placements. You may be the type to be really into pink adorable aesthetics, or love dressing up cute as a way to cope. You have been through a lot of rumors, others talking about you especially behind your back. But omg my pile 3's you are going through a transformation soon!!🦋 You will finally set yourself apart from things that don't serve you, and you will be strict on who you let in your life. This could happen really soon watch out for jupiter transiting in your chart especially the 8th house!!

🖤Who wants to comfort you: November, Mad, Purple, Sleep, Release, Gemini, South node, Earth, 2nd house, Lilith, 💼☯🍬🧳 Ahhh my pile 3's this is someone from your past, they are reaching out you at this very moment!! OMG this could be the romantic connection you releasee and disassociated with🤯😱😱 I'm getting that this person feels you are "sleeping" on the relationship, and it is "driving them mad" wow. But they want to comfort you right now, they want you to rest, and leave all of the bad energy and negativity you have experienced, to take care of yourself💓 This is someone who is willing to pay for pile 3's sorrows, they would buy whatever they could to make you happy again..🥺😖💙 Gemini and Taurus energy. I feel like this person is very guilty about something, especially the past. The month november could be significant or that is when they are coming to you, perhaps this connection was separated during the month. Now this person does not want things to get worse for you, they really think about you often. I'm getting that they see you as their other half, their dark/light side. I think they know they messed things up, but they want to let go of the past and they want you to focus on self care and relaxing, ridding yourself from bad vibes.😊💤💙

📬Messages from them: In your imagination, I feel bad, Thank you for everything, Tell me why you're sad, I don't want to break your heart, Take your time, I want to learn more about you, We're both lovers even if it's subconscious (My pile 3's your person wants you to feel comforted rn🥺😭) Extra cards: Optimist, Amusement park, Safe, Treat, Difference, North node, Earth, 4th house, Aquarius, Capricorn

Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!✨

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the yin & yang emoji~☯ Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💙

Pile 4💀

Sign energy: My love, January, Maze, Restriction, Style, 2nd house, South node, Cancer, 7th house, 3rd house, 🩲🦀🧜‍♀️🧍‍♀️

🌧Your energy: I'm getting such siren vibes from this pile, like so magnetic and attractive.🖤 Very hot vibe for this pile haha~ Taurus, Cancer, Libra, and Gemini Gemini placements such feminine energy for you guys <3 Love has been on your mind recently, but I think you have tried to push away relationships a little or not allow yourself to fall into emotions with romantic connections. You are a very stylish and unique, from the way you dress to the people you're around. You love shopping and buying clothes and accessories~ you may flaunt your outfits in selfies🛍🕶🖤 I feel you attract romantic attention effortlessly from your style and the way you express yourself.😍 You don't let yourself have intense feelings because in the past you would get lost in them easily. You enjoy talking about things you like, but you never say what's really bothering you deep down.⛈ Emotions are difficult for you, especially repressing them. No one really sees what goes on under your cool exterior, but you have a soft side to you.💕

🖤Who wants to comfort you: Age, 2nd house, Distance, Choice, Secret admirer, Juno, Venus, Jupiter, Libra, 10th house, 🤷‍♀️📱💚😓 Omg omg this is someone you are not romantically involved with but they have a thing for my pile 4's for real🤯🖤🖤🖤 Ahh they could be older than you by a few years, but they are not someone you are familiar with. You may not know this person at all but they are a potential life partner for you guys it's crazy but this is someone very secretly attracted to you guys, they may have seen you from social media or somewhere online.🥰 This person actually wants to step up and comfort you!! The type to take all your baggage and worries and sweep you off your feet, give you everything you need I mean spoil you...😍💸🛍 My pile 4's this person wants to comfort you now even if you don't know each other yet they wanna be there for you. I'm hearing they want you to distance yourself from social media or using your phone to much, they want you to take breaks and do other things you like. This person hopes to send you love in some way and comfort you, l mean they are so sweet even with the distance between you guys that like doesn't bother them because they just want you to feel better.💓 Definitely someone you will see as marriage material, this is someone with lots of money so they can buy you whatever you want🙈💸💸💸🖤

📬Messages from them: Now is not the time, You shouldn't keep things to yourself, We're too different, Tell me what's been bothering you, Have you heard of me? Tell me the truth, Give it to me, Don't tell anyone (Omg just themmm😍😫🖤) Extra cards: Below, Union, Perfect, Release, Peace, 11th house, 4th house, Air, 2nd house, North node (Omg they see a family🏠 and marriage💍 with you they want to comfort you the second you guys meet it's so romantic they just wanna take good care of you...😭😭💞🖤)

Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!✨

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the skull emoji~💀 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💙

Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸

Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3

[beyondthesefourwalls]

For Better or Worse

Summary: Getting the phone call that your husband was involved in a training accident was something you had never prepared yourself for, and something that you never wanted to experience again. You felt like your entire world crashed down around you and the only thing that would pick up the pieces would be Bradley opening his eyes. But then he does, and everything starts to turn out worse than you ever thought it could. 

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: ANGST. So much angst. Language. 

Notes: Based on this request. While this serves as a prequel to my full length series Remember You Even When I Don’t, it’s not necessary to read that in order to read this. Part of The Forgotten Moments.

To all the Forgetful Boy and Pumpkin fans - I’m sorry for the hurt, but I hope you enjoy the first installment that features the reader's perspective! 

__________

You felt like you had been staring at the same paragraph for hours, and that should have been your first indicator that something was wrong. 

Election season as a political journalist meant you were never short on things to cover, especially with the climate so fraught with tension. It was looking to be one of the most interesting Midterms ever and this article should have written itself by now, only you were struggling to find the words. You had felt off all day, but in the last hour or two, it had gotten exponentially worse. You were anxious, fidgety, and you weren’t sure about what. 

All you knew was that something felt wrong. 

Your eyes drifted from the blinking cursor on your computer screen to the solitary framed photo you kept on your desk. A small smile tugged at your lip as you looked at it. It was taken a little over a year ago when Bradley had just gotten back from a three month long deployment and was one of your favorites.

God, you loved that man. You wondered if he was still in the air. He normally texted you when he was done with a flight, but you hadn’t heard from him yet this afternoon. But you knew if anything could help snap you out of this funk, it was your husband. 

Right as you were picking up your phone to text him, though, it started vibrating against the desk. You smiled, thinking for a moment that maybe he had read your mind and was calling you, but it slipped from your face when you saw Jake’s name instead. There was no reason for him to be calling you in the middle of the day when the entire Dagger Squad was going through an exercise today. That pit of anxiety in your stomach grew as you brought the phone to your ear.

“Hey, J.” 

When he said your name, you knew that something was wrong. Jake had become one of your closest friends in the last few years and you had heard a lot of tones from him, but nothing like the way he sounded now. 

“What happened?” you asked. You wished you wouldn’t have. 

There had been an accident, and Bradley was injured during his ejection. They were airlifting him to the hospital on base. You needed to go. You felt all of the air leave your lungs as what he was saying processed through your head. 

You didn’t understand. Bradley had said the drill they were doing today was routine, something they had done multiple times before. He was one of the best pilots in the Navy; the 1% of the 1%. He couldn’t have been hurt. 

Jake called your name, and you think maybe it wasn’t the first time. “I need you to breathe for me, dollface.”

It’s not until you let out a loud gasp that you realized you had been holding your breath. 

“J, I - is he okay? Tell me that he’s okay. Please.”

Jake was quiet on the other end and you thought there were tears welling in your eyes at the silence and as what that means hit you. You’re out of your desk chair and running down the stairs without another word. 

———————

You spotted everyone easily as soon as you entered through the emergency room doors. Jake saw you first, standing immediately and stepping toward you. 

“Where is he?” you asked right away, not bothering with any pleasantries. 

“Doll-“

“Jake, where is Bradley?” you demanded, your voice overpowering him.

The blonde took a deep breath and you never wanted to see this look on his face looking back at you ever again, because you knew it was going to hurt you before any words even came out. 

“They just took him in for surgery.” 

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from screaming. Surgery. He was hurt enough to need surgery. You tried to tell yourself it wasn’t bad. Any kind of injury could require surgery. It didn’t mean it was severe. You took a deep breath, trying to steel yourself despite the tears brewing in your eyes. 

“What happened?” you asked. Jake looked away from you, his jaw clenched. You noticed behind him how the rest of your friends exchanged wary looks with one another. No one wanted to be the one to tell you, and these were people you considered family who usually never had problems telling you anything. The sinking feeling was growing bigger and bigger. 

You met Pete’s eyes over Jake’s shoulder. Devastation was written all over his face and you pushed past Jake to get to Bradley’s godfather.

“Pete. What happened?”

“Sweetheart..” the older man trailed off, shaking his head. 

You gritted your teeth as frustration bubbled inside of you. You spun to face the rest of the waiting room. “Goddamnit, someone tell me what the hell is going on, right now.”

Pete laid a hand gently on your arm. “Let’s sit down, okay?”

“I don’t want to sit down,” you snapped, jerking your arm back from his touch. “I want to know what happened to my husband.”

“There was a malfunction with his engine.” His voice was pained, and you knew he was hurting, too. But you couldn’t focus on that right now. “His ejection got jammed at first. When he was finally able to, he got banged up. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.” 

Despite how badly you needed to know, part of you wished you wouldn’t have demanded the information. Because now that you had it you could see it so clearly in your head, what Pete was describing. Your sweet husband, fighting to eject from the jet that he loved so much. Floating to the ground and unable to guide his own fall. You couldn’t help but think of his father in this moment, knowing that the circumstances of his death were along the same lines. 

The universe couldn’t possibly be so cruel to have his son meet the same fate, could it? 

You listened as Pete continued to explain how he, Nat and Bob had been the ones in the air with him when it happened. Fanboy and Payback had been in the tower, but Jake and Javy were already out on the tarmac and had been quick to go with the air search and rescue. They found Bradley amongst the trees thirty miles from base. Absently, you were glad it wasn’t the ocean. 

You looked around the room as you tried to process what you were hearing. Everyone was looking at you, concern and their own worry etched across their faces. Your eyes stopped on Javy, your eyebrows furrowing together. 

He, like all the others, was still in his flight suit. The dark material was snug to his body, but you noticed something that hadn’t been there before. The Dagger Squad patch was flecked with red. The area surrounding it was darker than the rest, almost appearing wet, and when your eyes flickered down, you noticed the cuffs of his sleeves were stained, too.

“Is that blood?” you asked before you could stop yourself. He noticed where you were looking and glanced down at himself. His dark eyes widened when he saw what you were seeing. Panic flashed across his face as he looked back up at you, but you could only stare in a daze. Pete had said that Javy was one of the ones that went with search and rescue. “Is that…is that Bradley’s blood?” 

Your heart was beating so hard that you could hear it in your head, and you found yourself struggling to breathe again. You thought someone was saying something, but you couldn’t hear them over the ringing in your ears.  

“I think,” you said, your voice cracking as you tried to get the words out, “I think I need to sit down.” 

Your knees gave out right after you finished speaking, but Pete was there to catch you before you hit the ground. He held onto you tightly, not letting go until he was gently pushing you down into one of the hard, uncomfortable waiting room chairs. You did your best to suck in deep breaths, but it felt like there was a weight on your chest. He sat down beside you, an arm wrapped around your shoulder. You heard him telling you to breathe, in and out, in and out, but you couldn’t seem to listen. 

You almost didn’t feel like you were in your body anymore. All you could picture was Bradley, bleeding and alone as his friends fought to get to him. How badly injured was he? You remembered how off you felt all day, but how the anxiety had started for you nearly two hours before Jake called you. Is that how long he had been there before they found him? 

You couldn’t lose him. 

You couldn’t, you couldn’t, you couldn’t. 

You gasped for breath. Pete still had his arm around you, and you don’t know when they moved, but Nat was on your other side and Jake was on his knees on the ground in front of you, both of your hands held tightly in his. You think he may have pinched you, because there was a dull throb on the top of your hand. His voice sounded like static, but it slowly, slowly became clearer. 

“Listen to me. Right now. He would not want you falling apart like this. You know that. How do you think he’s going to feel when he wakes up and you’re not there beside him because you landed yourself in the hospital because you passed out instead, huh? You need to breathe. Please, dollface. Breathe.” 

The words were harsh, but they got through to you, which you knew was his intention. You sucked in a long and deep breath, letting it out slowly at his encouragement. Jake squeezed your hand as Nat rubbed your back. 

“That a girl,” he said, and you mimic his breathing at his request for a minute before you finally don’t feel like the room is closing in on you. You felt the tears streaming down your face for the first time and took one of your hands from his to wipe them away. Pete placed a paper cup of water into your hand and you shakily took a sip. 

“I’m okay,” you whispered.

But it was silly to think anyone would believe you. Unless you could see that Bradley was okay with your own eyes, you doubted you would ever be okay again. 

___________

It felt like hours passed without an update. You didn’t move from your seat, and the rest of the team stayed, too. Javy and Fanboy had left in the middle of your panic attack, only to return less than an hour later out of their flight suits and with a change of clothes for everyone else. Javy had hugged you tightly, whispering in your ear how sorry he was. 

It was nearing late evening when a doctor in surgical scrubs came out, a large plastic bag in one hand and a clipboard in the other. Your stomach twisted and you found yourself holding your breath again. 

“Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw?”

Everyone around you shot up instantly. You were slower to stand, your heart heavy in your chest and weighing you down. The doctor looked around with raised eyebrows, clearly not expecting the entourage. Your voice shook and cracked when you spoke.

“I’m his wife.”

You declined when he offered to speak in private, knowing you weren’t strong enough to repeat anything he may tell you. You listened as he explained all of Bradley’s injuries. Bruises and lacerations. A collapsed lung. More broken ribs than not. Severe internal bleeding, and a skull fracture that’s caused swelling in his brain. Each injury seemed worse than the last and you could feel the bile rising in your throat as he detailed what the surgery consisted of and how he would likely be unconscious for a few days. 

He was mid-sentence about stitches and blood clots when you interrupted him with the one question circulating in your head and pushing for dominance. “Is he…is he going to be okay?” 

The doctor gave you what you were sure was meant to be a reassuring smile, though it looked more like a grimace on his tired, drawn face. 

“We’ll be able to know more once he wakes up, Mrs. Bradshaw.” 

The words provided little comfort. There was a ball of anxiety in your throat that was threatening to choke you. You barely registered him saying a nurse would come out to get you as soon as they had Bradley moved out of recovery and into a room. The noise of the waiting area faded into a static buzz as you opened the bag of personal belongings he had handed you. Bradley’s flight suit was folded, his dog tags laying on top. You took a staggering step back and sunk into the chair behind you as you pulled them out. They were cool to the touch, his name, social security number and blood type imprinted perfectly into the silver. It felt wrong holding them in your hand without them dangling from his neck. Tears welled in your eyes as you quickly reached back into the bag. His flight suit was heavy. Your hands fumbled with the thick material, searching for the inside pocket below the name patch. You let out a breath of relief when your fingers grasped his wedding band; he didn’t wear it when he was flying, but he always kept it with him, right near his heart. 

Bradley loved his ring. He hated taking it off. You would keep it safe for him until you could slip it back on his finger. 

Your moment of relief was short lived, though, when you realized your fingers were damp and sticky. It was then that you noticed the rips in the suit he took so much pride in from where the medics and doctors had been so rushed to get to his body that they chose to cut it off of him instead of simply unzipping it. You raised one of your shaking hands up in front of you only to see it smeared red. It was almost in slow motion that you processed that what you were seeing was the blood that had seeped so deeply into the suit that it hadn’t dried in the hours it had been stuffed in this bag, still damp enough to transfer onto your skin. 

Bradley’s blood was on your hands, and you screamed.

__________

Bradley looked so small in the hospital bed. That was a word you had never associated with him before. Since the moment you sat down next to him at the wedding that brought you together, he had been larger than life. But now, he’s pale against the white sheets, even with the bruises marring his already scarred skin. There were wires hooked to him and machines beeping and you were scared to go too close, yet you couldn’t resist grasping his hand between both of yours as you sat in the chair by his bed. 

You had been allowed back in his room a few hours ago, but this is the first time you had been alone with him. Everyone had come back one at a time so that you never had to leave him, but the nurses had stretched the allowance for visiting hours for as long as they could before declaring that only one immediate family member was permitted to stay overnight. It was no question of you being here, and no one had been silly enough to suggest otherwise. 

“I’m right here, baby,” you assured him, “I’m right here.”

You almost expected him to respond - you had never wanted to hear his voice so badly. You moved the chair as close as it could get to the bed, laying your head on the mattress with both your hands grasping his, never looking away from his face.

___________

The next morning, Jake arrived with a duffle bag and a cup of coffee with your name on it that he held hostage until you forced down a bottle of water and half of the breakfast sandwich he handed you. 

“He’ll be pissed when he wakes up if we didn’t make sure you took care of yourself.” 

You knew he was right, so you drank the water he handed you and stomached the food that you could barely taste and then changed into some of the clothes Nat had packed and sent with him, because it’s what Bradley would want. 

Jake sat with you there beside the bed for a long time. You don’t speak much, but it’s nice, you suppose, not to be alone. A nurse came in at one point to check his vitals and when you looked at her with hopeful eyes, she gave you a sad look in return as she explained there hasn’t been any changes yet. The door clicked shut behind her and for a few minutes, the only sound was the steady beeping of Bradley’s heart monitor that reminded you he was still alive. 

You stared at the dark bruises and cuts on your husband’s face and gripped his hand tightly in yours. He was still so beautiful. You felt a lump growing in your throat as you let out a shaky breath.

“I won’t survive without him, J,” you said quietly. 

Jake was a lot of things, misunderstood in a lot of the ways that you happened to understand, and he would never lie to you. So when he firmly told you “you won’t have to,” you did your best to believe him. But then you remembered the feel of Bradley’s blood on your hands from his cut up flight suit and the doctor not giving you a straight answer on if he would be okay or not and it was so hard. 

You bit hard on the inside of your cheek as you traced your finger over the tan line on Bradley’s. His wedding ring hangs heavy on the chain with his dog tags around your neck, tucked into your sweatshirt. It wasn’t where it belonged and the ache grew in your chest. 

Jake spoke your name gently and you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head. You heard the scrape of his chair as he got up, moving to kneel beside the one you were in. You could feel the warmth of his hand through your clothes when he rested it on your back, and even the friendly gesture that had been done hundreds of times before felt so wrong. This was all just so wrong. All you wanted was the man laying in front of you. 

“Look at me,” Jake urged. He sighed when you refused, letting a moment pass before he spoke. “He was thinking about you when his plane was going down, you know.”  

Despite your initial hesitation, your head snapped to him. His face was open and honest, no hint of anything but sincerity. He didn’t even blink at the tears or the incredulous look on your broken face. 

“What?” you breathed out. “How do you know that?” 

“We could hear him on the coms from the ground. We heard the moment everything started going wrong, and when he realized things were going wrong, all he could think about was you. He said he was sorry, and that he loved you. In the scariest moment of his life, he was thinking about you. He loves you so much. More than I’ve ever seen anyone love someone else.” 

Your mind whirled at the information. Jake rubbed soft circles into your back as he continued on, his voice softer than the firm tone he had taken before. “You know as well as I do that your husband is a stubborn son of a bitch. He wouldn’t survive that accident just to make you sit in a hospital room and watch him die on you afterward.”

“You’re not a doctor, J. You don’t know that,” you argued, voice cracking with emotion. 

“But I do. And you do, too. Have faith in him, dollface. Don’t you give up on him, because he’d never give up on you. Do you understand?”

You knew Jake wasn’t telling you all of this to be malicious. Brutal honesty was a foundation to your friendship and he was just fulfilling his end of that. He knew that you were spirling and he was doing whatever he could to plant your feet back on the ground, but you felt something inside of you crack anyway. Your heart ached, thinking of Bradley in that moment - of the fear and the panic he must have felt. You could almost feel echoes of it in your chest now and it was an ugly, cruel feeling. 

But in what he probably thought was his last moments, he was still thinking of you. 

A sob escaped as, finally, you nodded. You hiccuped out that you understood and Jake pulled you into a hug as you cried. Your hand clutched at Bradley’s the entire time, longing for him to just squeeze it back. 

________

You aren’t sure how many strings had to be pulled to make it work, but over the next few days, someone was with you from the time visiting hours started to the time they got kicked out at night. They made sure you ate and drank, and while they never breached trying to get you to go home, they did insist on you taking a few minutes to shower in the bathroom attached to Bradley’s hospital room. When they were switching shifts with each other and an extra person was around to stay with him, they coaxed you to take a lap or two around the ward. You knew how worried they were; not just about him, but about you. In the back of your mind, you were thankful for the support system that was your found family. 

But each hour that went by without hearing Bradley’s voice, or seeing those dark eyes of his looking back at you, it got harder and harder to keep your composure. 

It was late on the third night. Visiting hours had ended hours ago, Nat having left you with a promise that someone would be there first thing in the morning with coffee and breakfast, just like that morning and the one before. She had held onto you a little tighter than she ever had when she left, and you knew she was hurting too; everyone was. 

You weren’t sure how long you had dozed off for, but when you startled awake, a nurse was in the room checking Bradley’s vitals. Her greeting to you was gentle and quiet before she focused back on what she was doing.  

“Apologies, dear. Didn’t mean to wake you.” 

You rubbed your tired eyes and rolled your neck to release some of the pain you felt there. “Any changes?” 

“Nothing yet. But no news is sometimes good news in these cases.”

You’d been doing your best to always be as kind as you could with the hospital staff, but you couldn’t muster up anything more than a grimace in an effort to smile in response this time. 

You picked at the blanket someone had thought to grab off your couch and bring to you as the nurse continued with her check in. She made a few more notes on the computer before she gave you a small smile, telling you that she’d be back again in a few hours before pulling the door shut on the way out.

Bradley laid still in his hospital bed and for a few minutes, you let the steady rise and fall of his chest mesmerize you. The room was silent aside from the heart monitor on the other side of the bed. 

The steady beeping felt like it was mocking you. 

He was alive, right here in front of you, his perfect heart still beating. But at the same time he seemed so far away. 

“You know,” you found yourself saying, “when you told me I should take some time off of work before my busy season really hits, you could have just taken me on a trip upstate or something. You didn’t have to go to such extremes.” 

You looked at him, willing him to open his eyes and respond. You laughed humorlessly and shook your head when you were met with nothing. “This has to be a joke,” you whispered to yourself. You sat up straighter in your chair, leaning closer to the bed. “This isn’t funny anymore, Bradley. It never was. You can wake up now.” 

You twisted the ring on your finger, glancing down for a moment at the diamond that you loved so much. You’ll never forget the moment he put it on for you for the first time, how amazing you felt; it was the complete opposite of the emotions of right now. When you looked back at him, his expression as unmoving as before, you couldn’t help the quiet scoff you let out. 

“I’m so pissed off right now, baby. I know that I have no right to be. I know that this is your job and that this wasn’t your fault. But I am so fucking angry.” 

You wanted to scream when your words continued to go unanswered. The noise you let out was as close to it as you could get without alerting any of the nurses. 

“We make decisions together,” you continued. You were practically vibrating as you seethed. “Well I didn’t have a say in this one. So you don’t get to leave me, Bradley Bradshaw. You aren’t allowed.” 

Tears gathered in your eyes but you didn’t bother to wipe them away. Bradley hated when you cried; maybe letting them fall would make him wake up so he could wipe them away. Deep down, you knew that wouldn't be the case. 

“You’re always talking about how strong I am but you know I can only take so much before I break, right? Do you know that?” your voice cracked on the last few words, almost like they were proving your point. The beeping from the machine echoed in the room, but suddenly, hearing that wasn’t enough. You threw the blanket off of you and stood from the chair that had been your home for the last three nights, moving to sit on the edge of his hospital bed instead. With a staggering breath, you gently laid your hand over his chest. 

Bradley’s heart thrummed under your palm, anchoring you. The anger you were feeling seeped out of you in waves, leaving you consumed with the grief and heartache you had been trying so hard not to drown in since you arrived at the hospital. Mindful of all the wires and his IV, you shifted so you could lay your head where your palm had been. You choked on a sob at the steady rhythm echoing back at you. 

“I can’t breathe without you, Bradley. You’re so ingrained in every single part of me and baby, I can’t breathe. Please. Please wake up.”

__________

Bob was with you the next day and had just left to go down to the cafeteria when you noticed the crinkle between Bradley’s eyebrows. 

The grimace would be subtle to anyone else, but you had his face and expressions memorized, and you had been doing nothing but staring at him for the last three days, waiting to see a change.

“Bradley?” you asked urgently. You felt the faintest of squeezes back to your hand and your heart raced in excitement. “Oh, Bradley. Can you open your eyes for me, honey?” 

You hadn’t considered the harshness of the fluorescent overhead lights, so when you saw him flinching, you jumped up from the chair to dim them. You rushed back to his side, slipping your hand back in his and squeezing again.

Slowly, oh so slowly, his eyelids fluttered open. He struggled for a moment to get his bearings and he groaned when he shifted on the bed. You were quick to try and soothe him. 

“Baby, baby, hey, don’t try and move, okay?” 

Despite your warning, or maybe because of it, Bradley slowly turned his head toward you. Your breath caught in your throat as you finally, finally, saw his eyes again. 

“Wow,” he rasped, “you’re beautiful.” 

His voice was thick from disuse and still, it was the best thing you had ever heard. You let out a surprised, delighted laugh, and you couldn’t stop the tears that came even if you tried. At the sight of them, Bradley willed you not to cry.

“I’m sorry, it’s just so good to hear your voice and see those eyes, baby,” you responded as you wiped some of the moisture away. “Let me call your doctor.”

You were standing to press the call button on his bed when he spoke again, voice rough and pain filled. His words stopped you in your tracks.

“Are you…not my doctor?” 

Your watery gaze widened and snapped to connect with his own, and for the first time, it registered that his eyes weren’t the warm, love filled whiskey ones you were used to. They lacked even a hint of familiarity as he looked at you.  

No. No, no, no. 

You jammed the call button over and over and over again, desperation starting to claw at you. When you sunk back into the chair, your hand unconsciously gripping his tighter than before, you tried to keep your voice as level as possible, but it sounded pleading and devastating even to your own ears. 

“Bradley…do you know who I am? Do you know my name?” 

His thick eyebrows knitted together, and oh, god, he was taking so long to answer, you thought you were going to throw up. When he slowly shook his head, you could feel the bile rising. 

“I can’t remember. I’m sorry. Should I?” 

You gasped, but before you could say anything, the room was filled with doctors and nurses alike. Your hand was ripped from his and you were pushed to the back of the room as they examined him. They asked him question after question and when he wrongly answered the year and his age, your horror grew.

“Lieutenant Commander-”

“It’s just Lieutenant,” Bradley incorrectly corrected. You gasped as the room quieted. The doctor cleared his throat and took a step back.

“According to your official Navy file, you were promoted to Lieutenant Commander two years ago. And unfortunately, Lieutenant Commander, it’s no longer 2018. It’s 2022, sir.”  

Your hands covered your mouth in shock. Bradley’s eyes met yours and you saw the moment they flickered to the sparkling ring on your left hand. You watched as they widened minutely. At the same moment he slipped into unconsciousness again, your knees gave out. You crashed to the ground with a pained cry, and even more than before, you felt like your world had been titled on its axis, never to right itself again. 

---------------

End Notes: My entire soul hurt writing this and I don't think I've ever agonized over a story so much. I really, really hope you enjoyed it, and would love to hear your feedback.

Special thanks to Mak and Em for everything, as always. I appreciate you suffering through this with me.

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[mcufan72]

Sugar and Cinnamon

Loki x female reader (AU)/ 18+

Chapter 10

Chapter 9

Warnings: contains fluff, smut, unprotected sex, alcohol and cigarette consumption, angst, soft!dom/sub vibes, angry-fucking (consensual), stubborn reader

I played a little bit 'what if...' and no, I'm not retelling MCU stuff, I always create my own

It took you some hours to find sleep last night. You didn't even remember when and how you returned from the library back home. You were kind of paralyzed after you had found out the truth about Luke… no, Loki was his name. It wasn't the fact that you had fallen in love with an alien or that he was maybe the demi-god from the myths. It was the fact that the newspaper articles, which you didn't even read completely, were saying that he was a bad guy, an invader, evil, destructive and a ‘war criminal’. Maybe he had been all of this but you weren't in a position to judge him for that and also you'd never do that. What confused you was that it absolutely didn't fit the impression you had gotten of him in all the time you've spent together. Loki was the most attentive, caring, loveable and sweetest man you've ever met. There must be more to it, something like a change of mind on his part.

You wished you could talk to him just one more time to ask him all the questions you had. But you had destroyed this path and the possibility of him finding you was low. Besides, you were sure he'd stopped looking for you. You were sure with him paying you for fourteen days and nights, which was a hella lot of money, and your refusal to take it, he was done with you once and for all. Understandable because in the end you'd just offered him a service and your body and your kisses might never have meant anything to him.

The next morning a knock at your door ripped you out of your work. You were already sitting in front of your laptop again writing your thesis, a mug of freshly brewed coffee next to you and several textbooks and already printed pages of your thesis lying spread on the table. And not to speak about the clothes which were spread around your apartment, on the floor and the sofa or the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink and the several empty packages from the Indian and Chinese takeaway or the pizza and pasta boxes. Your nutrition was a catastrophe these days but you hadn't any time for doing groceries and cooking some fresh and healthy food. Living in the chaos, too much coffee and junk food wasn't the best thing but the easiest until your exams were done and tidy-up you could do later.

“Coming!” You answered the knocking and stood up from the chair. You didn't expect a visitor at this time but you guessed it could be one of your neighbors.

“Hi, y/n I'm so sorry for disturbing you,” your lovely neighbour Karen greeted you after you had opened the door. She was still in her pyjamas like you. It was still early in the morning.

“Hey, Karen, no issues, you're not disturbing me. What can I do for you?” You asked her.

“I don't wanna be annoying, dear but could you lend me some flour and sugar? I want to make some blinis before I leave for work and I don't have enough flour and forgot to buy sugar…”

“No problem, of course I can lend you flour and sugar…wait, I'm back in a minute,” you laughed and vanished into your kitchen. You came back with a bag of sugar and a bag of flour and passed both to Karen.

“You can keep it and bring me some new flour and sugar in the next few days, there's no hurry,” you said and smiled brightly at her.

“Oh dearest you're a lifesaver,” she answered thankfully. “I'll bring you some blinis tomorrow when I'm back from my night shift,” and she waved you goodbye.

“It's alright, dear, thank you,” and you waved her goodbye, too. You closed the door and went back to your laptop, sat down again and continued writing. You had just finished a couple of sentences and drunk your coffee when it knocked at your door again. You looked up from the screen towards the door and a smile curved your lips.

“Coming,” you called towards the door and opened it with a bright smile on your face. “Have you forgotten something,” you asked while opening the door because you assumed it would be Karen again but when you had opened the door completely your smile died immediately and your face froze. After a second of realization, you slammed the door shut and leaned with your back against it. That couldn't be. How the hell did he find you?

Walker had told Loki in which apartment he would find you before he got out of the car. Loki didn't know which doorbell he should ring. Walker hadn't told him your real name because he thought it wasn't his job to do so. You had to tell Loki your name yourself. He already brought him here, to your house and it was more than he was allowed to do. It would cost him his job if Rhea found out about this and he considered himself as already sacked. But he wanted to help you both because he thought you two were a wonderful couple and that Loki and you had great chemistry. He also had the impression that Loki was the right man for you to help get you out of danger and out of the escort business. He still was convinced you didn't belong there and he was also convinced that Loki's obvious feelings for you were genuine.

Before Loki could think about which doorbell to ring first, someone left the building and he could get into the hallway. He used the stairway to get to your apartment and took some deep breaths, adjusted his jacket and raked his hands through his hair before he knocked at your entrance door. He was nervous. Would you open the door and let him in? Possibly not and he wasn't really prepared for your possible rejection. He yearned for you and he just wanted you back.

“Coming,” he heard you happily calling. When you opened the door it seemed you were awaiting someone else who had maybe forgotten something and instead of greeting him, your beautiful smile vanished immediately, your face froze and you slammed the door shut right into his face. Damn, that was rude but relatable. He came unannounced and maybe much too early in the morning so he should've expected this reaction of yours. And no, he wasn't prepared for your rejection. Absolutely not.

“Sugar…please open the door. I just want to talk to you. But not through a closed door. Sugar…let me in, sweets…please,” he begged you, sadness in his soothing voice. How much you had missed his voice, talking calmingly to you. How much you had missed him.

“I've searched for you everywhere and for so long… Sugar, I need you back, please… sweets, open the door. Please!”

Should you open the door? He sounded so sad and desperate.

You turned around and slowly, very slowly you opened the door just a crack and lurked through it at him. He looked so unbelievably beautiful in his dark trousers, the dark-grey t-shirt with a V-neck and his black pea coat. It was the first time that you saw him in casual clothes and you were well aware that you were still in your white loose-fitting sleep shirt and your pink pyjama bottoms with the butterfly pattern, your face undone and your hair untamed and tousled. The real you, at least in the morning. He hadn't seen you like this either. And you looked anything but sexy.

“What are you doing here?” You asked him shyly, some wariness in your gaze.

“I wanted to see you,” Loki answered whispering, utterly delighted that you had opened your door for him. “And I need to talk to you, sweets.”

You slowly opened the door completely and stepped aside so he could walk past you and come in. Loki followed your wordless invitation and entered your apartment. You closed the door and turned around towards him, looking at his broad back and strong shoulders which radiated so much safety, watching him take off his pea coat and hang it up in your wardrobe next to your jackets and bags. You already knew that your jackets would later smell like him and that was a comforting thought. Loki looked lovingly at you and a slight smile appeared on his pretty face, studying your loveable appearance.

“They're very tousled…they always are, except when I'm Sugar,” you said quietly when you saw him staring at you and twirled a strand of your hair around one finger, looking at him embarrassed.

“You always look adorable, sweets and I like your hair when you wear it open. I always wished to see you like this,” Loki said, smiling lovingly at you.

“Take a seat, please…oh, wait…,” you offered him after some moments of awkward silence and you hurriedly took several clothes off the sofa to make room for him to sit down.

“I'm so sorry for the untidiness, I'm in final preparations for my exams and I barely have time to clean up… and I didn't expect any visitors,” you apologetically explained the mess of your apartment.

“Don't worry about it, sweets. I'm not here to judge about the condition of your apartment,” and he took a seat on the couch.

“Fancy a tea or a coffee?” You asked, playing with the hem of your t-shirt. You were curious about how he found out where you live. Someone must've helped him.

“Some coffee would be great,” Loki answered, leaning back against the sofa's backrest and spreading his legs. Him sitting like this and his amazing thighs would always do things to you. Memories of what he had made you do on his thighs flashed back into your mind and made your mouth watery and your cheeks blush. You would never get over him. A shiver ran down your spine and made your core tingle and your nipples tighten. You quickly went over to the kitchen to pour some coffee for him in a mug and you felt his gaze following you.

While you were walking toward your small open kitchen to get him a coffee, Loki let his gaze follow you. You looked adorable in your comfy sleeping clothes. He loved to see your face without any make-up and your hair open and undone. Probably he wouldn't have recognised you in the streets because you looked different like this, and you were more beautiful than he could've ever imagined. Your casual clothing makes you look so comfortable. He could sense your slightly peaked nipples under your t-shirt and he felt waves of arousal running through his body. But he wasn't here to get horny, he was here to talk and get you back.

He let his gaze wander further through your small apartment. It was truly a mess right now. On your desk, a chaos of textbooks and printed pages of your thesis around your laptop and an empty coffee mug next to it, clothes everywhere, empty food packages and pizza boxes. It wasn't to miss that you were focused on your studies only. But he also saw the order in your chaos and he could relate to it. Being the god of mischief also meant that chaos was a great part of his business as well, among other things.

The only tidy thing was the evening gown he had given to you, neatly on a hanger hanging on the open door of your bedroom, right next to your dresser. On your dresser, he saw some photos in a frame. In the pictures were you as a child in the arms of a woman who he assumed was your mum, both laughing and presenting self-made cinnamon rolls to the camera and in another one where you stood with your mum on a beach with the sea and an old castle on a hill in the sea in the background, you both brightly smiling into the camera again. Your childhood must've been a wonderful one. You looked so happy in the pictures.

Next to the photos he discovered the small bouquet of his self-picked wildflowers, well-done dried and nicely decorated on the top of your dresser. A slight smile curved his lips because it touched his heart that you had kept his little gift and that you'd decorated it so lovingly. Next to your dresser, he saw your shoes, relatively neatly placed. The black high heels, the golden high heel sandals, the knee-high leather boots… and a pair of dark-green trainers. He frowned and raised his eyebrows. He was sure he had seen them before somewhere and more than once.

“Here, your coffee. Black and pure, the way you like it, I assume,” you passed him the mug, ripping him out of his thoughts. You sat down next to him and let your gaze wander from the patch of his chest hair up to his pretty face with this chiselled jaw and cheekbones, framed by those incredible black curls, his gaze piercing but heartwarming as always. There was so much longing in it. Nonetheless, you felt stripped by his staring. Maybe it was because he saw the real you for the very first time. You were in your comfy clothes, undone and vulnerable and you couldn't hide behind the pretty mask named Sugar. You felt so fragile and you were at the brink of crying. On the other hand, how dare he come here? You had forbidden him to search you and suddenly you felt angry too.

“How did you find me,” you asked him sternly. Loki sipped his coffee and placed the mug on a free space on the coffee table.

“I looked everywhere for you, sweets and there isn't a place I haven't been to find you and I didn't want to wait until our next appointment to see you again,” Loki answered genuinely and calmly.

“This is not what I meant. Who told you where to find me? Was it Rhea? You don't know my name, you didn't even know how I look when I'm not Sugar, so who told you?” Your anger and anxiety grew, your voice got louder and tears welled up in your eyes. This always happens when you are angry or scared.

“Rhea didn't tell me anything about you or where you live. Walker brought me here. I asked him for help. I knew no other way anymore and he's the only person who knows where you live. I've been to Vivian's Velvet more than once but nobody there knows Sugar… They know just Candy. I don't know what to think about it…”

“There's no relevance to it and should be none of your concerns. And Walker…it'll cost him his job and Rhea… didn't she tell you to stay away from me, that I don't want to see you again? Didn't she send you the money back? I also told you in my letter that I don't want you to be involved in my shit. Why don't you just leave me alone?” you continued ranting.

“Did you really think I wouldn't look for you after that incredible night we spent together and the letter you left behind, telling me that someone is blackmailing you? And please don't be mad at Walker. He's concerned about you too. He wanted to help and I had to convince him that I need to find you, that I have my reasons for it and that my intentions are good. He didn't do it lightly. Rhea didn't tell me anything, she just sent my money back to my bank account with that note ‘acceptance denied’. I don't understand…”

“Oh yes, talking about that… who do you think you are? Did you want to buy me? Seriously? Giving me all your money to ‘save’ me so you can own me and tell me what to do or not to do? Forbid me to escort other men? Because I owe you then?” You got off the sofa and walked some steps away from him. You needed some distance. You turned around to face him and crossed your arms over your chest.

“I might be a whore and you can buy my services but you cannot buy me, loverboy and I'll never take any money from anyone without working for it. It's the last bit of pride I have left and you…,” you pointed with a finger at him, “...won't take this from me. I'm not your property. I won't depend on your mercy, I don't need this ever again,” you yelled at him and some tears ran down your cheeks. You didn't want to yell at him or push him away like that but your anxieties and your saved emotions took the better of you. Also, you feared the consequences it could have when you asked him for help. Consequences not only for you but for him.

“And I'm not mad at Walker, I'm mad at you. Mad at you because you didn't stop looking for me, mad at you because you forced him to bring you here and risk his job, mad at you that you tried to force me to take your money without consideration.” You knew you were overreacting and you shouldn't treat him like that, he didn't deserve to be treated like that. He had always been kind and loving with you but you became more and more overwhelmed by everything that was threatening you for months now.

“Are you done now?” He asked resentfully.

“I didn't want to buy you. I just paid for the time you may have spent with me and escorting me if you would have been bookable. I don't demand anything from you, you owe me nothing, sweets,” he vehemently explained but you shook your head in disbelief.

“Everything in life has its price, ‘Luke’. Life gives you nothing!” You spat.

“Why are you implying I did something bad? I did it because I care about you, because… I don't want you to meet other men, because I can't stand the fact that other men look at you, touch you, desire you,” Loki stated. Why were you so angry and stubborn? And why have you emphasized his name like that?

“And why is that? I'm an escort, it's my job to meet men and you're a client like them. Why can't you stand it?” You wanted to know but maybe you already knew the answer, and he was definitely more to you than just a client.

“Because… because I fell in love with you and I want you all for myself. I know it wasn't supposed to happen…but it happened nonetheless. And I was jealous, so damn jealous of your other clients, all the other men who were horny for you. Now it's out, now you know why!” He just hoped you would finally give in now and let him help you.

“No, you don't love me. You don't know me. You love my fake identity, the carefree, tempting little shit named Sugar, who escorts other men and who escorts you and also fucked with you for a living. That's not love, Luke. That's just lust and passion…” Angry tears ran down your cheeks and you ran your fingers through your hair. You wished you could give in and tell him everything. In the end, you just wanted to be with him.

“Just lust and passion you say? What were your kisses then? Were they just fake too?” Loki's heart sank. This conversation didn't go as he expected and escalated quickly.

“They were just…kisses and without any meaning...probably,” you stammered. It was a lie but you couldn't admit the true feelings you had for him. He still didn't know everything about you and at least he wouldn't stay. So why give in to the feeling of love when he would leave you anyway? “I told you right from the beginning that you mustn't fall in love with me!”

“I never wanted to fall in love with you, yet I did,” he whispered under his breath.

“Why didn't you listen to me?” His answer to that was just a huff and a headshake.

“Ah, and about your kisses, Sugar … so they were kisses without meaning, you say. Didn't you tell me you only ever kiss a man when you're in love with him? So that was a lie then?… Well, interesting because I know whenever you're lying and it didn't feel like a lie when we kissed. But it's okay, I'll accept that you don't want me and that your kisses were fake.” It broke your heart further when you heard him saying that because contrary to what he said you wanted him and your kisses had been genuine but this pain now in your heart was the price you had to pay for all the fucked up shit.

“Nonetheless you can accept my help and my money. Consider it a gift. Nothing can change my ambition to keep you away from other men.” His anger grew and he just wanted to grab you and shake the stubbornness out of you so you would finally let him be there for you. “The worst thing is you're still convinced you can solve your problem alone. Girl, someone is blackmailing you and this piece of shit who does this to you with whatever it is wants a lot of money you don't have and will never get on an honestly or legally way. How many men do you want to fuck to earn all that money, hm? Ten, fifty, hundred?” He angrily questioned, waiting for your answer.

“I'd sleep with every filthy rich guy in Manhattan if necessary, my only issue is that I don't have enough time anymore for that,” you said desperately and sternly, more tears slowly running down your cheeks. The truth was you only wanted him to grab you, fuck you properly and wished immediately afterwards everything would be alright again.

“Are you kidding me? You're never going to do that. You aren't a whore, you've never been. And even if you were, according to your letter you're just my whore, aren't you? So who are you kidding?” He asked you too loudly and he was really sorry for that.

“Do I have to fuck some mind into you first so you finally take my money and let me help you?” In one quick move he stood up from the sofa and with two big strides he stood in front of you. “Come here, then work for it, you sweet stubborn whore! Be a good girl for me!” He growled angrily and darkly, grabbed you by your upper arms and walked you backwards towards your kitchen. His sudden action took you off guard but actually it was exactly what you wanted him to do. All of the pent-up frustration, anxieties and longing for each other needed to be released. Words couldn't do it for you two right now so you two had to act.

“You know what? I've had enough of your stubbornness!”

He quickly turned you around and bent you over the kitchen counter tugging your pyjama bottoms hastily down and your linen panty quickly aside. He then pushed two of his fingers purposefully into your cunt, pumping them in and out a few times before he rubbed them, slick with your juices, back and forth through your folds and over your clit, making you moan lasciviously. He wanted to make sure that you were ready for him, to hurt you would never be his intention. He wanted nothing else than you listening to him and making you happy again. He would make you listen to him, he would make you believe that he wanted to help you, that he loved you and that he would never leave you alone. But he was so angry and worried and he wanted you to feel it physically because his words didn't reach you. And besides all that he just needed you, now.

“What are you doing?” You asked him, still angry and panting heavily. His dominant behaviour turned you incredibly on.

“I do just what you need right now and the only thing you'll understand because you don't hear what I'm trying to tell you, you stubborn girl,” he growled into your ear and he continued pumping his fingers deeply in and out of you.

“Look at you, my little brat, so wet already, you're so shameless and horny, eager to get fucked, aren't you? Want me to have my way with you? Want me to make you work for me, hm? So you can take my money with a clear conscience? Does this make you so wet or is it just because of me and the knowledge that I'll fuck you properly and relentlessly into oblivion? Tell me, sweet thing, want me to take you?” His arousal got bigger with every second he had you under his tight grip and he just waited for your consent. He wouldn't continue without that.

“Yes, oh god, yes, fuck me, that's what I want. Make me listen… make me believe,” you whimpered with genuine longing, trying to get a grip on the kitchen counter. You wanted him to make you forget about everything even if it were just for a short moment.

“Oh yes, your god will take you, never doubt me, sweet thing.” Loki snarled lustfully and tugged your panties finally down. He unfastened his belt quickly, opened the zipper and freed his manhood. He stroked himself a few times, kicked your legs further apart and shoved his steel-hard, pre-cum dripping cock straight into your wet cunt. He fucked you hard and deeply but carefully to not hurt you. He was so deep yet not deep enough, his swollen balls were slapping against your clit and his cock slid powerfully over your special spot inside of you. It wouldn't take you long to reach your climax and your obscene moans were witness to it.

Loki grabbed you firmly by your hips and penetrated you faster and faster until one of his hands slid quickly up at your flank and over your shoulder. He grabbed the front of your throat and closed his big hand around it. He pulled your upper body backward against his chest, still holding firmly onto your hip and your throat, slamming his needy cock into your silken heat as violently and deeply as possible, almost breaking you in half. Your one hand clasped his nape, your other hand his forearm and you couldn't do anything else than let him fuck you pretty hard. His dominance and his deep demanding thrusts let you spiral deeper into arousal and lust.

“You better arch that back if you want to cum, sweet thing,” he commanded seductively and you just obeyed and confirmed your will to come by arching your back and letting out a long moan.

“You feel so good, make me cum, please make me cum, I need you,” you begged him breathlessly. His hand around your throat and his merciless thrusts brought you quickly to the brink of climaxing. The violence and impetuosity of his love-making surprised you and you already knew you wanted more of it, more of him. You wanted him to play with you, to punish you, punish you for running away, for refusing his help, for being a brat and arguing with him.

You knew he was desperate for you as much as you were desperate for him and you also knew that he would never hurt you. Angry-fucking was your secret kink you never dared talk about to your ex and you were glad that Loki was the one who fulfilled your dream. You would feel so much better afterwards, you just knew it. Once he promised you pleasure and didn't disappoint you, he never did and as soon as you were together with him you felt safe. He released your throat and his hand wandered down to one of your breasts, firmly cupping and kneading it and pinching and playing with your nipple.

“I'll fuck the stubbornness out of you, girl and when you're about to cum you'll say my name … did you hear me?” He commanded.

“Yesss, yes I heard you,” you moaned breathlessly.

He felt your cunt massaging his cock and he knew he wasn't going to last long and your permanent moans and whimpers nearly sent him straight over the edge.

“Oh god, I'm about to cum,” you squeaked and you couldn't hold it back anymore. He felt so good and you felt so heavenly full of him.

He fucked you like an animal and a wolfish grin curved his lips. “Then say my name… say it,” and he tried to get deeper while his thrusts became sloppier.

“I'm coming, Loki… please don't stop…”

“Say my name…” and you felt him heavily panting against the sweaty skin of your neck.

“Loki…,” and with an obscene scream you came hard around his throbbing cock.

He gritted his teeth and threw his head back when he came undone with an animalistic groan. He filled you to the brim and enjoyed the silky grip of your cunt milking him. His knees were buckling and he collapsed against your back, carefully guiding your upper bodies towards the countertop so you could both rest there for a moment and catch your breaths.

“Fuck, that felt so good,” Loki groaned and pressed a kiss to your sweaty neck and heard your quiet sigh.

He slowly pulled out of you and watched his cum dripping out of your well-fucked pussy. He was more than pleased. He cleaned himself with a sheet of paper towel which he grabbed from the kitchen counter and put his cock back in his briefs and trousers.

You were still dizzy and bathed in the aftermath of your orgasm and his domination and you still craved for his touch. You felt his cum running down your legs. You raised your torso from the kitchen counter and reached for a sheet of paper towel to dry your inner thighs. Loki looked satisfied at you and smirked.

“Can we talk like adults now?” He asked you teasingly, his cheeks rosy and the blue shimmer under his skin was gone. You both felt much better now and that's what you radiated. Sometimes a good fuck was all you needed.

“Yes,...yes, we can. I just want to clean myself quickly, please excuse me for a moment,” you said quietly, turning around to face him. He looked exhausted but satisfied and you were sure you didn't look any different.

“No,” he answered softly and shook his head.

“No?”

“No, my cum stays inside of you,” he smirked and he helped you into your panties and your pyjama bottoms and pulled both up and over your butt.

“I want you to feel how seriously I want to help you and how much you mean to me.”

He pulled you gently against his chest and wrapped his arms around you, cradling you carefully. You reciprocated his embrace and buried your face in his chest. You breathed in his familiar scent you had missed so much. Not only the scent of his skin or his cologne, or the musky after-sex scent. It was the scent of love, comfort and safety.

He dipped his head to kiss you and latched his lips onto yours and when you opened your lips, his tongue slid into your mouth exploring your warmth and your softness. Your heart felt like it had to explode and you reciprocated his loving kiss with utter passion.

To have you back in his arms, feeling your softness, inhaling your sweet scent and kissing you passionately again was the greatest feeling of all and the only thing he ever wanted. This ugly feeling of anger and tension was gone and you were closer to each other again. There was a lot you had to talk about and it seemed that the time had come now.

“My kisses were and are genuine, please believe me,” you whispered after that amazing kiss and buried your face in the crook of his neck.

“I know and I do believe you. Are you okay, sweets? I hope I didn't hurt you,” he asked you softly and concernedly.

“No, you didn't. I feel good. Maybe it's what I needed and was necessary to get my conscious mind back,” you answered soothingly.

“I didn't want to go too rough on you, I'm so sorry, sweet thing …,” he murmured.

“It felt good and I liked it. I know I call myself sugar but I'm not made of it,” you told him softly and you raised your head to look smilingly at him. You kissed him on his soft lips and raked one hand through his soft curls.

“I'm sorry that I yelled at you, it wasn't fair,” you said apologetically. “I didn't intend to rail you up.”

“It's alright, sweets I get that, I was angry, too,” and he gave you an extraordinarily soft and long kiss on your lips. But there was something he was wondering about so he let go of your mouth and looked quizzically at you.

“I told you to say my name when you were about to cum and you did but… did I… did I hear you right or did I just imagine it in my incredible excitement?”

Instead of an answer you freed yourself from his embrace and went past him to your dresser. You opened the drawer and took his scarf out of it, gently touching it. You weren't ready to give it back to him but it was his and you had no right to keep it. You turned around to face him and closed the distance between you two. When you stood closely opposite of him, you took your gaze from his scarf and looked him into his puppy eyes. You could barely stand the way he was looking at you.

“I'm so sorry that I lied and told you I hadn't found it. I should've given it back to you much earlier but I couldn't. I loved the feeling of having a piece of you in my home,” you said quietly, your voice trembling.

“I knew you had it, I told you that I know. I knew that you lied,” and you both smiled at each other, unsure what to do now. You showed him the embroidered initials, your smile slowly fading. You were afraid to tell him that you knew who he was, how you found it out and that he could be very mad at you because you had browsed through his past.

“These initials don't stand for ‘Luke Larsson’, they stand for Loki Laufeyson and no, you didn't imagine it, in my ecstasy I screamed your real name,” you explained, your voice merely audible.

Loki swallowed thickly. You had found out who he was and he was sure that now the time had come to say goodbye to you because you would never want someone like him by your side. He lowered his head and took a deep breath before going on.

“How did you find out?”

“I did some research in a library. I told my best friend about you and she was sure she had seen you somewhere many years ago but couldn't remember any details concerning the Avengers. Just that you had something to do with them.”

“You talked with your friend about me?”

“Yes, because you became more to me than a client and I needed someone to talk about it. She's the only person who knows mostly everything about me and what I'm doing for a living. And so I told her about us. And through old newspaper articles, I found out that you are Loki and not Luke.”

“Yes, you're right. I'm Loki Laufeyson. An invader, a war criminal, a sinner and definitely not worthy of you. Want me to go?” He asked quietly and sadly, and raised his head again, looking at you with teary eyes. It broke your heart to see him like that.

“No, I want you to stay. And I ask you to help me. Not with money or anything like that. I need your words, your support and your soothing hugs and touches and yeah, I need your kisses, too,” you stated genuinely. “I can't anymore, Loki, I'm so tired,” and you felt him pulling you into his arms again. You hugged him back, desperately clutching his t-shirt, your face buried in his chest, his scarf still in your hand. He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you on your forehead before he loosened his grip on you again.

“You know I'll never give up on you. Otherwise I won't be here,” he murmured with his deep velvety voice.

“I think, the time of revelation and truth has come,” you noticed and looked deep into his bright blue eyes.

“I think so too,” he answered, nodding approvingly.

You took him by his hand and led him back to the sofa to sit down again.

“Wait, let me clean you first and get you some fresh underwear. I want you to feel comfortable when we talk because I'm sure it's going to be a long conversation. And I know how much you like to be cleaned after having sex with me. And I think I stayed long enough in that pretty pussy,” he smiled and kissed you tenderly. You could just smile too and you adored him for his care. His kind of aftercare always surprised you anew and you truly enjoyed it. To make it more comfortable for both of you, you decided to take a shower together and you cleaned each other silently and with utter tenderness.

Refreshed, with still damp hair and Loki just dressed in his trousers and you in just a t-shirt and panties, you sat down on the sofa and looked intensely at each other. Now it was the time to tell each other's truths and you offered Loki your hand for a handshake.

“Hey, I'm y/n y/l/n. Nice to meet you,” and you gave him the loveliest and most genuine smile you could give.

“Hey, y/n. What a beautiful name you have. I'm Loki Laufeyson and it's a pleasure to meet you.” He took your hand in his and placed a kiss on your knuckles. He loved your real name and it suited you so well. You answered with a cute smile and reddened cheeks. This man would never fail to make your skin tingle and your heartbeat quicken.

“Tell me your story, Loki. Tell me who you are,” you asked him, holding his hand in yours and waiting for him to begin.

He told you everything, about his heritage, about his raising in Asgard and how it all led to the invasion of New York City until the point where only two options were left to decide the fate of Earth and his life.

“I had a fight with my brother on the outside of Stark Tower and he asked me to stop and to fight with him and the Avengers together. And I did. I don't know why I listened to him, but I did and I made this decision within seconds. And instead of stabbing him and continuing the destruction and trying to get power over your world, I helped them to fight against the invasion and at least against Thanos. It cost me all of my mental and physical strength and skills but somehow I made it. It didn't prevent me from ending up in the dungeons of Asgard but it avoided lots of more death and destruction. And then I got a further chance of redemption. I got the chance to get out of the dungeons of Asgard to become a negotiator and an ambassador for international and intergalactical security because they all thought my silver tongue would be good for something.”

“Oh, your tongue is very good at French kissing,” you teased him and you both laughed lightly.

“Yeah, you might be right, sweets and not only French kissing but this is reserved for later and for you only,” he said softly, winked at you and squeezed your hand.

“The only condition was to live and work under the eyes of my brother and the Avengers with Tony Stark as my ‘parole officer’,” Loki continued. “I agreed and lived here under the radar and with a fake name for many many years and people forgot about me or left New York and new people settled down here. And after some years when other duties were waiting for my colleagues, they left NYC except for Tony and my brother. He had a love interest here, you know. I have to stay here until my debts are paid and that will be in three years. Then I'll be free to go wherever I want.

My brother or Tony just comes sporadically to see me and it's more like a visit then. I earned their trust so I was allowed to live in my own penthouse and in solitude, just as I wanted it…until I met you. Now I don't want to be alone anymore. I wished I could have you around me all the time.”

“Wow, that's quite a lot… it'll take me some time to process everything you just told me,” you said and sighed smilingly and deeply. “You made yourself the most hated man in your and my world but you took the chance of redemption. Be proud of yourself, Loki, this is a great achievement,” you praised him.

“Maybe it is,” he confirmed.

“You're wonderful, Loki. I got to know you a little bit and I can tell you, you're a good man and you deserve all the love someone can give to you. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, sweets.”

“You said the Avengers all left the city but I had dates with three of them. Did you send them to meet me because you knew they're nice so I don't have to meet strangers?” You questioned curiously. Loki shifted on his seat and swallowed dryly.

“You… you never met them, sweets.”

“Of course, I did,” you answered unbelievingly and chuckled.

“No, sweets you didn't… it was me you met.” Loki's gaze settled on your face. How would you react now?

“I think I don't quite understand. What do you mean by that?”

“One of my magical abilities is shape-shifting. I can change into the appearance of another person,” he explained carefully. You could just frown because you didn't understand anything of what he said.

“Please explain… Why were you doing this? Did you want to control me or test me?” If that was his intention it would be creepy.

“I did it because I wanted to see you and be together with you. It also was a possibility to protect you from other men.”

“Why didn't you meet me as yourself?”

“Honestly, I don't know. Maybe because I didn't have many events to attend and didn't require an escort, maybe because I didn't want to make it obvious how much I like you… the first time we met I told you I'm not interested in a relationship with you or anything else. I didn't know how to get out of that. I think I was afraid of losing face or scaring you off. You might have thought that I was stalking you,” he explained genuinely and you nodded understandingly.

“Were you also responsible for my cancelled appointments?” You weren't dumb, it fit into the whole thing and so it was an obvious question.

“Yes, guilty,” he admitted.

“How?” you wanted to know.

“I gave Rhea calls with a different voice and told her, the client which I imitated, wanted to meet an escort with a specific hair colour that was completely different to yours so she sent someone else instead of you...”

“ …and gave me a call that my appointment got cancelled,” you added.

“Yes, and two times it was too late and you had already sat at the bar at Vivian's. I intercepted your clients and told them you couldn't come for whatever reason, paid them and sent them away. I always made sure that you would get your money and I knew if a cancelled appointment isn't your fault, you still get your money. I'm sorry for that, sweets. Maybe it was selfish what I did but I just wanted to protect you and have you all for myself,”

Loki felt guilty and he knew he shouldn't have done this. It was stalker-y but he couldn't help himself, he was head over heels for you from the first time he met you at Vivian's Velvet. There were still some questions you needed answers to so you kept consulting him.

“When I met Steve and danced with him, I danced with you? Because it felt familiar somehow. It reminded me of our first dance at the business dinner.”

“You did.”

“When I had that fantastic conversation with Bruce and was invited to that extraordinary delicious dessert, it was you I talked to and it was you who spoiled me so wonderfully?“

“Yes. I know about your weakness for desserts so I couldn't resist ordering you one of the best desserts in Manhattan.” The gaze of his puppy eyes was killing you. He was adorable and you just wanted to straddle his lap and kiss the heck out of him again. But it had to wait.

“When I laughed with Scott the whole evening when I had so much fun and wondered over the magic tricks he showed me, it was you I laughed with. And Scott aka you asked me for a kiss… why? Was it a test because you knew I'd just kiss a man when I'm in love with him?”

“It wasn't a test…or maybe it was. I wanted so desperately to be kissed by you and at the same time, I was afraid you could fall in love with someone else. I just gave it a try. And then I had the confirmation that you definitely had not fallen in love with ‘Scott’ because you denied the kiss.” Loki's heart sank and pondered achingly in his chest. You would never forgive him for all his tricks and lies. He never wanted to lie to you or play games with you but for you and for love he'd do anything.

“So when we met the real Scott at the nightclub, he didn't pretend to not know me, he really didn't know me,” you concluded.

“Yes, that's right,” Loki answered, nodding approvingly. “I was just glad he stayed with the use of my fake name.”

“I think I should be extremely mad about you and all that… but I'm not. Somehow I feel flattered. Nobody else ever did something like this for me. You really just always wanted to protect me, didn't you?” Loki nodded sadly. He was so afraid that he would finally lose you though he had just found you.

“Are you still desperate for a kiss from me,” you asked him softly and leaned in to kiss him. You were just a few inches away from his tender lips.

“You still want to kiss me? You still want me after all of that? I'm a liar and a sinner, sweets. And I'm not sure if this will ever change,” he asked, unsure what you were going to answer now.

“It doesn't bother me what you did in the past and I'd never judge you. I always wanted a dark prince on his black war horse and it seems that wish might come true. You always tried to be there for me and you treated me with such care, attention, and tenderness and that's more than I deserve. If you're a sinner, I'm a sinner too. You know that I'm not a decent girl, and when you learn about my past you might not want me anymore,” you whispered, your lips almost brushing his.

“You're an angel, Sugar and you treated me so well, too. You're my purpose, my obsession and I want you, decent or not,” he mumbled and you pressed your lips gently on his, your hands trailing over his bare shoulders and chest, making him tremble. Your touches would never fail to make him shiver or to make him feel good and safe. He pulled you closer, caressing your head and your soft hair and kissed you so deeply that you nearly began to cry. When he broke the kiss, he looked quizzically at you again and ran his thumb over your cheek.

“You really took me off guard when I took you home with me and you wanted me to read to you from the book of Norse Myths and chose the part about me,” he laughed and you tilted your head to smile at him as well.

“Who could've known that I had been so close to the truth,” and you gave him a peck on the cheek.

“May I ask you something too?”

“Sure!” you said encouragingly.

“When you met Steve, Scott, Bruce aka me, Matt and the real Scott you told them your name is ‘Candy’. Even your coworkers didn't know who ‘Sugar’ is when I asked at Vivian's Velvet for you. What does it mean, sweets?” You took a deep breath and smiled slightly at him.

“When I met you for the first time at Vivian's, when we negotiated the conditions of our deal, I felt that you were special, different. And I liked you very much. Sympathy at first sight so to say. And after our conversation I decided to choose a name only for you, and only you call me like this.” Loki's eyes teared up. “You're incredible, sweets,” and he pulled you in for a further soft kiss.

“You're the only one I ever slept with, Loki. No other client ever touched me intimately. If I would've done it, it would've felt like I'd cheat on you,” you stated sincerely and tears were shimmering in your eyes. “Since I know you I only have eyes for you,” you murmured.

“I know. I feel the same way.” Loki answered with his soothing bassy tone, holding your hands in his and his thumbs grazed tenderly over the back of your hands. His eyes were looking directly into yours and you were locked in his gorgeous blue gaze.

“Tell me your story, y/n. Tell me who has hurt you so much, who's threatening and blackmailing you. Tell me the reason why you were forced to become an escort lady and have to earn that much money,” Loki asked you. You felt his sincere desire to get to know your truth.

You looked at him, swallowed, took a deep breath and then you began to tell him how it all started nearly six months ago.

🌹🥂🌃🌹🥃🌃🌹🥂❤️‍🩹🌃🌹🥃🌃🌹🥂🌃

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