#he’s been cooped up too long with this injury | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mononijikayu · 16 days ago

Text

love’s entanglement — ryomen sukuna.

“I’m not afraid, my lord.” you said, barely a whisper, but enough for him to hear. His eyes softened, just a fraction, but it was enough. The smirk that often played on his lips faltered, replaced by a look that spoke of ancient, buried memories and truths. “Then you’re a fool, little one.” he said, the words almost kind, a breath of admiration shadowed by disbelief. “Maybe so, my lord.” you replied, stepping back just enough to see his full frame. “Or maybe, I just see more than you let on.”

GENRE: alternate universe - heian era;

WARNING/S: safe for work (sfw), mild angst, one sided romance, complicated relationship, conflicted feelings, hurt/comfort, marriage, married life, physical touch, introspection, unexplicit mention of character death, pining, one sided confession, depiction of one-sided relationship, depiction of grief, depiction of pining, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of cuts and injury, mention of yearning, mention of manga spoilers, mention parts of jjk chapter 222, heian! ryomen sukuna, concubine! reader;

WORDS: 8.7k words.

NOTE: i was honest with all of you when i said that i wasn't done with this story at all. there are still forty years of stuff to dabble in. so i'll write that. the title is based off an ost from the untamed called qingqian ( 情牵) which translates to love entanglement. i remember listening to this for a while and picturing in my head how complicated love looks like for concubine reader and sukuna. they love each other more than they want to admit. forty years of this, making each other suffer and making each other feel this way. how could they not want to be entangled? anyway, i hope you enjoy this!!! i love you all <3

main masterlist

the other woman masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

══════════════════

THIS MOMENT WAS SOMETHING RARE. You do not usually find yourself around Ryomen Sukuna's own gardens. But today was quite a day for such a thing. For a good walk, after having been cooped up inside for so long. And yet, you did not find yourself in your own garden.

You after all have your own garden, courtesy of your husband who had allowed you to have a space of your own in your own hall, a luxury he extended to you — in contrast to his many, petty and envious harem. And all of it suited to fit your wants and needs, so long as you remained in his favor.

And because of that, you were particular with everything. Everything about it was more than enough to you, to last a lifetime of joy in a little space of paradise. Anyone who had been there would say so. Your Vermillion Hall was a serene haven, meticulously designed and tended to in ways that reflected your tastes and subtle touch.

It was familiar, soothing, yet lately, a certain restlessness had stirred within you. The beauty of your garden felt too known, too safe. In search of a distraction, you drifted through the temple's quiet halls, each footstep echoing against the cold stone. The air was filled with the weight of silence, broken only by the occasional creak of ancient wooden beams.

Yet, you perhaps will not find anything that could rival it besides the untouched wonder of the Heaven’s Hall — where your husband resides. Before long, you found yourself at the threshold of your husband’s wide garden. Everything about this could be a pavilion of its own, a few Vermillion Halls, with just the greenery alone.

The space stretched out before you, vast and wild, a realm twice, no, thrice the size of your own. You cannot decide the accurate size. But everything about it was fit for a god. And yet, it was abandoned, untouched by the hands of anyone. It was presentable enough, and yet it was a bizarre sight to behold when you take it all in.

It was an unruly expanse, tangled with thickets of dark green and deep crimson, vines snaking around cracked statues and gnarled trees towering overhead. The paths, barely discernible through the dense growth, were cloaked in a mist that gave the air a damp chill. The scent of rich earth, damp leaves, and a hint of some distant, elusive blossom surrounded you.

You took a step forward, your hand trailing over leaves beaded with dew. The statues, fierce and ancient, seemed to watch with stone eyes as you moved past, their faces frozen in expressions of silent judgment.

Sukuna’s gardens were imposing, powerful, and unyielding; much like the man himself. He never spent time here, finding no need for the peacefulness that gardens offered. His presence, always commanding and forceful, left little room for such indulgences.

A rustle in the distance made you pause. You looked up, the hairs on your neck pricking. From behind a towering stand of bamboo, Sukuna emerged. His eyes, crimson and sharp, caught the faint light filtering through the leaves.

“Wandering somewhere you shouldn’t be, little one?” he drawled, a smirk playing on his lips as he took in the sight of you in his neglected domain.

You matched his gaze, refusing to be intimidated as you bowed before him. He towers over you as he tells you to be at ease. You raise yourself from your position and look at him with your uncertain eyes. He could tell immediately how you were.

He snickers. “You did not bring Chiharu with you?”

“She is at lessons,my lord. I did not wish to disturb her by my desire to walk.”

He raises an intrigued brow. “She would be throwing a tantrum then. You know of all people should know well enough that the girl likes to play.”

You purse your lips. “I am sure she will understand.”

“I should doubt that.” He retorts back to you. You did not reply. He was right. His eyes narrow at you tenderly. “How did you end up here, hm? Trespassers are not oft enjoyed by me, little one. Had you been some other unruly wench, it would be different.”

You feel chills echo through your bones at his words for a moment. You know well enough what happens to people who find themselves wanting around the King of Curses, even in his own land untouched by his hands.

“You never come here, my lord.” you said simply, your voice steady, echoing with a curiosity that cut through the mist. “I would have thought I would be alone here.”

Sukuna’s brow lifted, an unreadable glint crossing his scarlet eyes as he stepped closer, each stride deliberate. The ground crunched under his feet, the sound muffled by the thick carpet of fallen leaves. You let out a small soundless breath as you waited for him to speak.

“And yet here you are, caught red handed, little one.” he countered, stopping just a breath away from you. “Does your garden hold no interest anymore? Your favorite space of your own and you abandon it for unruliness, little one.”

“I wanted something different, my lord….and it felt right today.”

“Things feeling right does not mean you ought to come without a word.”

“My garden holds no mysteries anymore, I merely looked for excitement.” you admitted, letting your fingers brush a tangled vine. “And I walked and walked and merely found myself here. If I had offended you thus,my lord….I apologize.”

A moment of silence passed, thick as the greenery surrounding you. Ryomen Sukuna tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing as if weighing the truth in your words. He releases a composed chortle, echoing intrigue at your words.

“You’re bold, little one.” he said, the smirk fading into something deeper, more contemplative. You could not read his face now. You found that your husband is even better at hiding what he’s thinking over the years. You can only wait.

“Very well, little one. I shall give you a bit more of the grounds surrounding Vermillion Hall for your pleasure. Do with it as you please.”

You looked at him, your eyes widening slightly. Yet almost immediately, you thought to find yourself in collected composure. You could not falter easily, not in front of him. You bow slightly.

“I thank you for your generosity, my lord. I am sure Chiharu will enjoy that also. I thank you on her behalf.”

He grunts at you as he nods, crossing his massive arms together. Soon enough, you could feel his scarlet gaze shifting away from you, turning to scan the wild expanse that stretched around you both.

“These gardens have no order, no reason.”

“Maybe that’s why I’m here, my lord.” you replied, your voice soft but unwavering. “Order can be stifling.”

His scarlet eyes met yours, and for a heartbeat, the wildness of the garden seemed mirrored in the crimson depths of his stare. “Then it would seem that the heavens wish you to stay.”

You lower your gaze for a moment, before lifting them slightly, your cheeks flustered red. “Does my lord wish that I shall stay here also?”

“What is the need for that question, when I do not say a word to dismiss you, little one?” Sukuna said in response, his eyes bearing intense more than ever.

You held Sukuna’s gaze, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. It was rare to find him in such moments, raw and unguarded in the vastness of his own untamed world. Ryomen Sukuna was good at getting under your skin, getting you good with everything.

With all this time that had passed, you would have thought that one would give in and surrender to the tides. The tides of all that had come and gone. You knew he would never love you. Not in the way he loved Hiromi.

And yet, when he says such things, you couldn’t help but let your heart beat for him, who had caused you so much misery. You fold ever so easily when it comes to your husband. Even if that gets you nothing in the end.

You couldn’t help but be a fool, loving him in your own way. But perhaps, that is all that there will be in this life. You must accept it as it is.

As you let your eyes drift from his face, they caught on the heavy folds of his finely cut silk kimono. The gleam of the silken fabric strained at his broad shoulders, seams pulled taut over the sheer expanse of his chest. It was clear that the garment, though richly woven, was not made to fit a man of his proportions, nor was it well sewn to fit the needs of his divine flesh.

He noticed your glance, a shadow of amusement crossing his face. “Did something catch your eye, little one?” he asked, his tone laced with mockery. He shifted, the movement making the fabric pull tighter, as if to emphasize the obvious.

“I was just thinking, my lord….” you began, hesitating for a moment. “ About your clothes... they don’t seem made for you.”

Sukuna chuckled, a sound low and resonant. “Even the finest they find would never be enough to clothe a god, little one.” he said, a touch of arrogance glimmering in his eyes. “None of them will be able to capture the needs of a god.”

There was no boast in his voice, only the stark acknowledgment of truth. He stood before you like a force of nature, a being who seemed larger than life in every possible way. Everything about your husband suited that being of a god. Everything about him was born to be divine. He knew that for a fact.

You didn’t know how to respond at first. The weavers, masterful in their craft, would sigh with frustration when tasked to make garments for him, their looms creaking under the weight of excess fabric. Sukuna was simply beyond what they could create; his existence outstripped the skills of even the most skilled artisans.

“You’re right, my lord.” you admitted, your voice a touch quieter. “You’re not... an easy man to define.”

He watched you for a moment, the flicker of curiosity hidden behind his usual veneer of confidence. “And yet, here you are, little one. Trying to find some meaning to it.” he repeated, softer this time, eyes searching yours as if tracing a hidden path within them. “I can see it on your face, how hard you think about it.”

You curse silently, but he almost looks like he was even more amused as he watched you try and gather yourself once more. Soon enough, the silence dissipates as the wind rustles through the garden, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and wildflowers damping the air.

“Do you resent it, my lord?” you asked, more boldness creeping into your tone than you intended. “The way nothing ever fits?”

His expression shifted, a crease forming at the corner of his mouth as he considered your question. “Fine clothing and steel, power and titles—they were never meant to fit me, little one.” he said, eyes narrowing slightly. “They are tools, nothing more.”

You nodded, understanding dawning on you. There was something in his words that resonated, the idea that even the trappings of power were too small for a being who transcended them. The moment hung between you, a rare peace settling over the conversation.

“It must be lonely, then, my lord.” you whispered, barely audible above the rustling leaves.

He regarded you with a sharp intensity, and for the first time, his smirk faded into something closer to sincerity. “There is no such thing for a god.” he said, voice low, almost gentle.

The silence that followed his words was profound, charged with an intimacy that neither of you had anticipated. Sukuna's gaze lingered on you, measuring, weighing, as if considering whether to share something more or let the moment dissipate like so many others.

His kimono, stretched and strained as it was, seemed almost like a metaphor for the man himself, something vast and untamed, constrained by forces too small to truly contain him.He shifted his stance, the faint creak of fabric and the whisper of leaves underfoot drawing your attention back.

“And you, little one?” he asked suddenly, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. “Do you find yourself longing for things that don’t fit?”

The question startled you, and you blinked, a shiver running down your spine as you pondered your response.

“I think we all do, in some way, my lord.” you said, choosing your words carefully. “We seek things that push at the boundaries of who we are. Otherwise, we’re just living within walls that keep getting smaller.”

A flicker of recognition passed through Sukuna’s expression. He looked away, his bright scarlet gaze drifting over the gardens, now cast in the golden hues of the fading sunlight. The air felt thicker, as if nature itself was listening to your exchange.

“It’s easy for mortals to speak of boundaries, for you most especially, little one.” he said, voice almost a murmur. “But when you’re something... more, there are no walls to you. Only the question of what to do with the endless expanse.”

The way he spoke, not with pride but with a rare trace of weariness, made your chest tighten. You stepped closer, the distance between you narrowing until you could see the fine, jagged lines of old battle scars peeking out from beneath the strained fabric of his kimono. You reached out, hesitating for just a moment before letting your fingers graze the edge of one of those scars.

“And yet, you choose to build walls, do you not?” you said softly, your eyes lifting to meet his. “You push others away, keep yourself untouchable, my lord.”

He tensed under your touch, though he didn’t pull back. Instead, his eyes met yours in, the intensity of his stare pinning you in place. “Because if I let them in, they’ll see what even I cannot grasp. Power that bends to no will but its own. It’s easier to let the world see only what they fear, little one. Remember that.”

A breeze swept through the garden, carrying the whisper of leaves and the scent of wild jasmine. You watched him, understanding the vulnerability that hid in plain sight, wrapped in the guise of strength and distance.

“I’m not afraid, my lord.” you said, barely a whisper, but enough for him to hear.

His eyes softened, just a fraction, but it was enough. The smirk that often played on his lips faltered, replaced by a look that spoke of ancient, buried memories and truths.

“Then you’re a fool, little one.” he said, the words almost kind, a breath of admiration shadowed by disbelief.

“Maybe so, my lord.” you replied, stepping back just enough to see his full frame. “Or maybe, I just see more than you let on.”

The garden held its breath as he took a step forward, closing the space between you. He towered over you, and yet, in that moment, there was an understanding—a balance between a force of nature and the one who dared to reach out and touch it.

“We’ll see, little one.” he finally said, the smallest tilt of a smile returning to his lips.

And for the first time, it wasn’t the smirk of a conqueror, but something softer, deeper, as if you’d both glimpsed a truth neither had expected to share.

══════════════════

YOU COULD NOT STOP THINKING ABOUT IT WHEN YOU RETURNED. You cannot help it. You were only human. But it had been bad enough that it had distracted you for much of the day. And that rarely happens to you, as anyone else could attest.

Chiharu has been pestering about what has been so heavy on your mind, but you keep brushing her off. It was not her burden to carry. She was a child, after all. You would not let her find her way into the thought that consumed adults.

As you drank your medicinal tea, you couldn’t help but let yourself settle into the silence of the waning moon. That conversation had consumed you. Every little word between the two had endlessly lingered with you, its weight settling in your chest long after you had left the garden.

Your lord husband has always had a way with words. A Ryomen would — they were famed for intelligence and candor, for their wondrous words that echoed like the bountiful prose of a poet's mind. Everything about him is a gem more valuable than anything in the world.

And yet, this may perhaps be the first time your husband had spoken in that way. He did not play with his words. He did not mince them either. Everything about it had encroached on you whole, like the darkness swallowing the day.

Ryomen Sukuna’s words and the rare vulnerability he’d shown played over and over in your mind, weaving themselves into your thoughts like the threads of a delicate tapestry.

You found yourself thinking of him more often—not just as a powerful, untouchable figure but as someone who, despite his godlike presence, harbored something deeper beneath the surface. He was human once, after all. Wouldn’t such humanity at least remain, even unconsciously?

For days, you wondered what you could do. You thought about how to reach him in a way that spoke more than words ever could. Sewing came to mind, but you quickly realized your skills were rudimentary at best. Your brothers had said as much as children.

Your mother, however, was different. She had sewn clothes for your family for as long as you could remember, her hands weaving fabric with a mastery that turned every stitch into art.

The memory of her gentle hands, threading needle and cloth with unwavering care, bloomed in your mind like a warm, cherished light. Each stitch she made carried love, devotion, and the quiet strength that held a family together.

But a visit to her was out of the question. Ryomen Sukuna would never allow it; you knew that as surely as you knew the sun would rise. He does not find the need for you to debase yourself to such a life again, knowing you are a god’s wife.

And yet, you cannot help but think of her as you wondered what you could do for your husband. Everything about her echoed the warmth that one echoes with love. With devotion.

The thought of her touch, those fingers skilled in transforming cloth into something that fitted perfectly and comfortably, was a bittersweet ache. Yet, as much as you longed for her guidance, you knew this was something you had to attempt alone.

The desire to give Sukuna something beyond what words could express gnawed at you. He may not have loved you, not in the way stories spoke of love, but he cared for you in his own way.

He granted you freedom where he could, offered protection, and even moments of rare conversation like that day in the garden. You were alive because of his mercy, his whims. And you wanted to give him something in return. To show that you saw him, understood him, and cared.

With your resolve hardening, you purse the fullness of your lips in a flat line and find yourself calling over one of the temple servants. The young woman had soon approached swiftly, eyes downcast in the customary deference, but you caught a flicker of surprise when you made your request.

“What does my lady wish for this lowly servant to do?”

“If you may, could you bring me rolls of the finest fabrics, golden and silver threads, fine silver needles, whatever sewing materials you can find.” you said. The servant hesitated, her brows knitting as she processed the unusual command.

You offered a small smile, tilting your head. “Do not worry yourself too much. It is only that….I wish to indulge in some nostalgia.”

“I shall come and do as you ask, my lady.” she replied, bowing with great deference and desire to fulfill your request.

As you sat there in the gardens waiting, your mind continued to wander back to your mother’s hands, the way she hummed softly under her breath as she worked, the warmth that filled the room as she crafted each garment with care.

You breathed deeply, summoning that memory as strength. You would sew, even if clumsily, and you would give Ryomen Sukuna something he hadn’t asked for; a piece of your own devotion, stitched into every imperfect seam. You were after all, his most ardent follower, in all things.

The servant left quickly, her footsteps fading into the labyrinthine corridors of the temple, leaving you in a moment of quiet contemplation. You ran your fingers over the surface of a wooden table nearby, its polished edges worn from years of service, and thought about the task ahead.

You weren’t just sewing a garment; you were threading your thoughts, hopes, and unspoken words into every stitch. It would be a gift unlike any other—a piece of yourself, laid bare in the seams and folds of cloth.

Memories of your mother came flooding back like the sea against the cliff, more vivid and detailed than they had been in years. You could almost hear the gentle hum of her voice as she worked, an old song that spoke of love and patience.

You remembered how the light from the hearth would catch on the strands of her hair as she bent over her needlework, her expression calm and content. She worked slowly, meticulously, and with a grace that came only from years of practice and an abundance of love.

In those moments, her hands were not just sewing but crafting memories. You recalled the way she would glance up with a warm smile whenever you passed by, sometimes drawing you close to teach you the basics. Your child’s fingers were clumsy, the needle awkward in your grasp, but her voice had always been kind and encouraging.

“Each stitch holds a bit of who we are, my daughter.” she’d say, guiding your hand. “So make sure it’s done with care.”

The thought of attempting to recreate even a shadow of that magic felt daunting, but the desire to give Ryomen Sukuna something meaningful pushed you forward. Despite his aloofness, he had become a fixture in your life. No, he has become your life. He is your life. You lived and breathed to do your duty to him and him alone, even if that burns you in suffering his lovelessness.

His presence, fierce and unwavering, was a constant in a world that often felt unpredictable. He didn’t need your gift, and he may not even value it in the way you intended, but that didn’t matter. This was for you as much as it was for him. This was the only way to express what words could not. Words will never be enough.

Time passed, and soon the servant returned, arms laden with fabric of various colors and textures. She placed them on the table, eyes glancing at you with a question that remained unspoken. You nodded, dismissing her with a quiet “thank you” before turning your attention to the bounty before you.

The fabrics ranged from deep, somber blues to vibrant reds that reminded you of Sukuna’s eyes. You ran your fingers over them, testing their textures. They were all interesting. Some coarse and sturdy, others smooth as the flowing water. Everything about it had found you pushing through with curiosity. You wanted to see what could happen if you choose to weave it together.

You chose a deep, rich indigo for the base, a color that spoke of strength but carried an undertone of calm, and a crimson thread to stitch with, a reminder of the fierceness you wished to honor. Another was plain and pure as the driven snow, bright as the moonlight striking down on the earth, put together piece by piece with the finest of silver threads.

Settling into a chair, you took a deep breath, the weight of your resolve pressing against your chest. Your fingers trembled slightly as you threaded the needle, but you forced yourself to stay steady. The first stitch was hesitant, awkward, but soon you fell into a rhythm, each pull of the thread a quiet assertion of your purpose.

As you worked, the hours melted away, the room filling with the soft sounds of fabric shifting, the tiny click of the needle meeting cloth, and your own heartbeat thudding steadily in your ears. The memories of your mother’s gentle lessons guided you, each one a quiet assurance that even imperfect stitches could tell a story.

And so, you sewed. You stitched late into the evening, the flicker of candlelight your only companion as it cast golden shadows across the room. Every knot, every seam held a silent promise, an unspoken acknowledgment of what you felt and what you hoped to convey. It was more than an attempt to dress the god you worship.

It was an offering of yourself, an expression of your unfailing care, vulnerability, and the hope that even the wildest of beings could be touched by something as humble as thread and fabric.It was a human being’s prayer wishing to be answered at the altar of the god.

When at last you paused to look at your work, you felt a swell of emotion. It was far from perfect; the stitches were uneven, the fabric puckered in places, but it was real. It was honest. It was yours. And soon, it would be his for all of time. Just like you were.

══════════════════

IT WAS ASTOUNDING, HOW TIME PASSED. And yet how they were not peaceful. Ryomen Sukuna had not seen you for a week, and that bothered him more than he cared to admit. It wasn't as though he sought your constant presence or craved your company in the way mortals would seek comfort.

No, his world was built on power, dominance, and the unyielding expectation that everything, and everyone served its purpose. They must submit to it. That is the fate of humankind in the face of a god.

You must, with all your might, carry out your duties by his side, as he demands. He did not care for how you spent your time in idle leisure, nor did he consider it his concern. But this week has been different.

You were absent from the audience halls, your soft steps nowhere to be heard drifting through the temple's stone corridors. You did not loiter about as you usually do when the sun comes around at dawn and or explore the temple gardens as you often did when the sun would set.

When he summoned Uraume to fetch you so you could stand by his side during the reception of the small folk and their insipid praises, Uraume returned with the same report: you had politely declined, citing that there was a rather important matter that required your attention.

And that too was confirmed by his daughter, who refused to tell him a word about it, even when Sukuna had threatened to be harsher upon her in training. Chiharu did not care about having to deal with more punishing punches and miles of running than betraying your privacy.

The first time, Sukuna waved it off, convinced that whatever occupied you was fleeting and of little consequence. The second time, he raised a brow but said nothing, allowing it to be an anomaly.

But the third time, it grated at him, a feeling gnawing at the back of his mind like an itch he couldn’t reach. Was something wrong? Were you ill? The notion was absurd, but the idea still sat heavily on his chest.

The fact that Uraume provided no further explanation infuriated him. His trusted attendant simply returned with your refusals, a slight bow and an inscrutable expression that offered nothing more. Sukuna's irritation burned hotter with each day you did not appear at supper, each moment you weren’t where he expected you to be.

He found it unnerving, a ripple of discomfort that was foreign to him. The mighty King of Curses did not worry, did not concern himself with the comings and goings of another. And yet, here he was, muscles taut and jaw clenched, pacing in his chambers as the unsettling sensation festered.

“This is absurd, foolish most of all.” he muttered to himself, voice sharp as the flicker of his irritation mirrored in the crimson gleam of his eyes. It was out of character for him to feel this way, and he knew it.

A wave of frustration surged through him, not at you, but at the unbidden thoughts themselves. He could not help it, not when you were failing to fulfill your duties, not when you were not servicing him as you should. You, who were supposed to be by his side, a symbol of his reach, his power.

Ryomen Sukuna slammed a hand down onto the lacquered surface of the table before him, the sudden crack of wood splintering under his force echoing through the room. The servants outside stilled, their breaths caught in their throats as silence returned, heavier than before.

“Uraume.” he called out, voice ringing like a blade through the hall.

Moments later, Uraume entered, head bowed and expression carefully neutral. “My lord.”

“Find out what your lady is doing, this instant.” Sukuna commanded, each word sharp and deliberate. “And bring your lady to me, whether it be willingly or not.”

Uraume hesitated for a fraction of a second, a subtle shift of their eyes betraying curiosity or perhaps concern, but they only nodded and backed out of the room, the door closing with a soft thud behind them. They would not fail their lord Sukuna.

Uraume stood at the threshold, gaze steady as they absorbed Sukuna's command. “As you wish, my lord.” they said, bowing low before slipping out of the chamber.

The sound of their retreating footsteps was soon swallowed by the silence, leaving Sukuna alone with the simmering tempest of his thoughts. That he hated more than anything. He hated having such thoughts by himself. But it cannot be helped. It would take a while.

As Uraume went off to the other side of the temple and headed to Vermillion Hall in order to do their duty — that will take a while. He has to wait. Sukuna pressed his lips together as he sat there, tapping one of his hands on the stool’s armrest with great impatience. Everything about this is causing him more irritation by the minute. If he could, he would have a headache.

He clenched his jaw, staring down at the splintered wood beneath his palm. The sharp edges bit into his skin, grounding him in the moment, but they did nothing to ease the unfamiliar twist of irritation in his chest. It wasn't like him to be unsettled, to find his mind preoccupied with the absence of another. And yet, the past week had been a slow, relentless descent into that very discomfort.

“This is a farce.” he muttered, turning away from the table with a sweep of his robes. His dark scarlet eyes narrowed as he paced, the flickering torchlight casting his sharp features into a series of jagged shadows echoing through the halls.

You, the one who had come to exist in the periphery of his life yet had managed to weave yourself subtly into his days, were defying expectations. One who he thought he would break and mold into his own — were still your own self, your own being and he cannot control what you do or what you want.

You were you and he does not know what to do. The thought stirred something darker, something that demanded control and conformity. Something in him wanted to enrapture you whole over and over again. There was that desire. And he does not know what it all means, what he should do. And for the first time in his life, Ryomen Sukuna does not wish to know.

A little while later, as twilight painted the sky in dusky hues of orange and purple, there was a soft knock on the door. The waiting is over. He gathered himself for a moment as he looked towards the door. His gaze narrows.

“Enter.” Sukuna called, voice measured but laced with an edge that warned of his impatience.

The door opened, and Uraume stepped inside, their expression unreadable but posture tense. “My lord.” they began, pausing briefly as if to gauge his mood. “My lady, your concubine has been in the private chambers. I spoke with my lady, but my lady insisted that there was no reason to leave. My lady could not leave the progress on the work.”

“Work?” Sukuna echoed, a scoff forming at the corner of his lips. The idea of you consumed by something so important that you would refuse him was laughable. “And what work, pray tell, keeps my little one from me?”

Uraume shifted, eyes flicking to the floor before daring to meet Sukuna’s gaze. “My lady had tried to find the right words to say, but it is obvious that my lady is sewing, my lord. My lady has asked for time alone to finish the task.”

A heartbeat of silence passed, and then Sukuna barked out a laugh, harsh and devoid of humor. “Sewing?” He repeated, incredulity turning to anger that settled hot and heavy in his chest. “And my lady denies me for this trivial pursuit? For so long? Over needle and thread?”

Uraume’s shoulders stiffened at the rising tension in the room. “My lady spoke of... nostalgia, my lord. I believe it holds some personal significance to my lady’s past.”

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. His pride bristled at the audacity of it. You had chosen something so mundane, so mortal, over fulfilling your role by his side. And yet, beneath the simmering irritation was a glimmer of curiosity. Sewing, of all things. It was an image so incongruent with your usual self that it gave him pause.

He paced, his heavy footsteps echoing like drum beats against the cold stone floor. “Uraume.” he said finally, his voice low but lethal. “Bring my lady here. I will see this work that my lady values so highly. Immediately.”

Uraume inclined their head, an acknowledgment that they understood the urgency masked as command. “At once, my lord.”

══════════════════

YOU HAD RUSHED TO GET READY. Uraume had come once more and you knew that you must depart soon enough. You knew your husband too well. He would end up throwing a tantrum the longer you made him wait.

He was just like that. You had kept your company and attention away from him far too long, more than what was necessary. But it had to be done, if you were to finish all of this.

You lamented not being able to finish the fourth one, but it would have to wait. You could return to finish it, once you show your husband the other three you had made. You looked towards Uraume and handed them two of the fine wooden boxes. They looked at you with a curious gaze, but the moment Uraume stared at your hand — perhaps there was some understanding on their part.

The heavy silence stretched between you and Sukuna, thick with unspoken tension. Every breath felt labored as you stood there, frozen in the doorway, your hands clasped tightly before you in a gesture that betrayed the anxiety tightening your chest.

Your eyes were cast downward, not out of fear, but because you couldn’t bear to meet his gaze just yet. His presence, like an oppressive storm, filled the room, suffocating any semblance of comfort. The weight of his stare, heavy and searing, felt as though it was burning through you, stripping you of any pretense or barrier.

Sukuna did not speak at first, but you could feel the intensity of his scrutiny in every second that passed. His crimson eyes locked onto you, an unrelenting force that seemed to penetrate deep into your very soul.

The room seemed to pulse with an energy that was entirely his own, and yet, there was something different about it now. Something subtle, almost imperceptible, but still undeniably present.

You shifted your weight nervously, unsure of what to say or do. Every instinct told you to bow, to humble yourself before him as you always had, but this moment felt different. The kimono, the one you had made for him, still lingered in his mind, you could tell.

The way his eyes flickered briefly to the space beside him where the garment was now laid out, the faint reverence in his touch when he had examined it earlier—it was as if he had been remembering something far more important than mere clothing.

You lowered yourself in a humbling bow in front of him.

Not once did his gaze leave your presence in that moment.

For a good while, you could feel the chills all over your body.

“Approach.” he ordered, each syllable cutting through the silence like a blade.

You stood from your bow and slowly stepped forward, heart thudding in your chest, carrying one of the boxes containing your work felt even heavier. You could feel how harshly you clutched it in your trembling fingers.

His eyes flickered down to it. You lay the boxes before him. Uraume laid the others before him. For the briefest moment, his expression shifted. There was less anger and more... intrigue.

“Explain yourself.” he demanded, though there was an unmistakable edge of curiosity woven through the command.

You swallowed, summoning courage from somewhere deep within. “I wished to make something for you, my lord.” you said, voice quiet but steady. “Something that would... fit you.”

Sukuna’s gaze hardened, but a question glimmered in his eyes, curiosity battling with the remnants of anger. “Fit me?” His voice was softer now, dangerous but tempered. “And you thought denying my summons was worth this pursuit?”

You nodded, holding up the fabric. “I wanted to show you that you could be seen, that I care enough to try. That I am devoted to you, my lord.”

The silence that followed was suffocating, his eyes locked onto yours, searching, weighing.

The room seemed to hold its breath as you stood, waiting for judgment, for the fury that could come like a storm. But instead, Sukuna’s lips twitched, not quite a smile but not far from it.

“Show me. Now.” he said, voice a low rumble. “This work that kept you from me.”

Uraume moved forward without hesitation, the ornate coverings making a soft, rustling sound as they were carefully untied and removed. The fabric shimmered under the dim light, revealing the fruits of your labor—a trio of kimonos, each meticulously crafted, each unique in its own right.

The first was white, paired with a matching hakama and a black haori that seemed to drink in the shadows. The second was a deep, royal indigo with crimson accents, bold and regal. The third was a rich, earthy gray embroidered with intricate silver patterns that caught the light like scattered stardust.

Sukuna's gaze shifted from one garment to the next, expression unreadable as his crimson eyes took in the details on all of it. He could see the fine stitching, breathing life little by little in each piece seemed to carry a subtle elegance that spoke of both strength and devotion. You cleared your throat, feeling the weight of his scrutiny press against your chest.

“A–as I said, my lord, I made them myself.” you began, voice wavering but earnest. “I’m sorry if they are not as perfect as you would prefer. I know they may not be fit for a king or for a god, my lord. But I had carefully crafted all of it while thinking of you.”

His eyes flicked to you at that, sharp and assessing. He said nothing, and the silence stretched long enough that you felt compelled to continue, though your pulse thundered in your ears.

“I just wanted to make something that would suit you. Something that would… reflect who you are, my lord.” You hesitated before adding, “And to show that you are more than just—”

“Silence, little one.” Sukuna interrupted, though there was no malice in his voice. He took a step closer, gaze settling on your hands.

The cuts and bandages were visible, stark against your skin, telling their own story of sleepless nights and determination. The marks of effort were not lost on him. The thought that you, a mortal bound by your own fragility, had poured so much of yourself into this—into him—sent a flicker of something unidentifiable through him.

He reached out, fingers brushing against the edge of the white kimono with the black haori. The stitching was impeccable, bold yet refined, as if each thread carried a piece of your heart. It was the simplest of the three, but there was an understated power to it. A garment that spoke of purity juxtaposed with shadows, stark and unwavering, much like the man it was intended for.

“This is no easy task to do by yourself.” he said finally, voice deep and resonant. “You undertook this task like you are a wife of a god. You dare to humble yourself before me, yet your work is that of one who knows worth.”

You could feel your eyes water slightly. “My lord—”

He lifted his gaze to meet yours, eyes dark and unreadable. “You have done well.”

Your breath caught at the unexpected praise, and you bowed your head to hide the sudden, overwhelming emotion welling in your eyes. “Thank you, my lord.”

Sukuna stepped back, casting one last glance at your injured hands. “Uraume,” he said, a command rather than a question. “Go to the healers. Ask them to bring ointments for my lady’s hands. They will be treated.”

A flash of surprise passed over Uraume’s features before they nodded briskly and left to carry out the order. You blinked, stunned by the uncharacteristic gesture. Sukuna turned away, but before the silence could return fully, he spoke again, voice low, almost as if he was speaking more to himself than to you.

“Next time, you will not wait so long to show me what is mine.”

The room stilled, the weight of his words sinking in. You nodded, heart thudding with a strange mix of relief and something deeper, something you did not dare to name.

Sukuna's gaze lingered on the white kimono, his expression unreadable, but there was a quiet intensity in the way he took in each stitch, each line, and the subtle folds of fabric that fell with perfect symmetry.

The black haori had an elegant simplicity that balanced the pure white of the kimono beneath, embodying a duality that resonated with him—power restrained, shadow and light interwoven.

He reached out, almost absently, fingers brushing over the texture of the fabric. The quiet reverence in that small action caught even Uraume's attention, their eyes flicking between the two of you. Sukuna's jaw tightened, and for a moment, you could sense the battle raging behind his eyes, an internal war between pride and acknowledgment.

“You, little one….” he said, turning to face you fully. His voice was deep, almost resonant, as though echoing in the very bones of the room. “You claim to apologize for imperfections, but these garments carry none that I can see.”

The words caught in your throat, and for a moment, all you could do was nod, your heart pounding a steady rhythm that resonated with the silent awe you felt. The faint sting in your bandaged fingers seemed to dull as he continued to regard you with that intense, unreadable gaze.

“Your dedication does not go unnoticed, little one.” Sukuna continued, stepping closer until the space between you was marked only by the breath you dared to draw. He reached out, lifting one of your hands with surprising gentleness, eyes narrowing as he took in the cuts and raw patches on your skin. “You have marked yourself in service to me. Remember that, and remember the value of your labor. As I will.”

He let your hand fall gently, the faintest of smirks tugging at the corner of his mouth. The tension in the room shifted, not softening but changing, as if the unspoken had taken form and settled around you both.

“From now on, little one.” Sukuna declared, turning his back to you but with a final glance over his shoulder, “I shall command you to be the only one to make my clothing for me. I shan’t wear anything else. So do well, hm?”

A shiver passed through you at the rare acknowledgment, at the words that felt like both a demand and an offering. The title little one rolled from his tongue like an unfamiliar caress, a sign of possession and regard wrapped in one. You lowered your head, a flicker of pride warming the cold pit of exhaustion in your chest.

“Yes, my lord.” you whispered, voice trembling not with fear but with the weight of something new—something you hadn't yet fully understood but knew had shifted the ground beneath your feet.

“Come here, sit by me. Uraume will take a while.” He whispers back to you. His scarlet eyes are softly gazing at you. “Tell me about your work, little one.”

You couldn’t help but smile. A true smile that reaches your eyes. “If my lord wishes.”

Ryomen Sukuna let himself enjoy your smile for a moment.

He came to a good and true conclusion there and then.

You wear joy in the most beautiful way in the way no one else knows.

And he admits, he wishes to see it for the rest of your days.

══════════════════

epilogue

Ryomen Sukuna stood in the dimly lit chamber, his eyes narrowing as Uraume carefully moved boxes aside, clearing the clutter from the room. The sight of the discarded objects from a thousand years ago, long forgotten relics; they all seemed trivial at first.

But then, something caught his eye, something that made his breath catch in his throat. A simple box, set apart from the rest, seemed too out of place for the cluttered heap of old trinkets and broken pieces. His loyal Uraume, not noticing his change in expression, continued to sort through the boxes.

"Uraume." Sukuna's voice rang out, low and deliberate, making Uraume freeze in place.

"Yes, my lord?" Uraume turned, posture stiff as they anticipated another order.

"Stop." The command was final, and Uraume hesitated for a moment before pausing, then obediently approached the box Sukuna had taken notice of. "Bring it to me."

Uraume did as instructed, carefully lifting the box and walking over to Sukuna, who stood with his arms folded, eyes glinting with a mix of curiosity and something far more dangerous. Once the box was placed before him, Sukuna opened it with a measured slowness, as though savoring the moment, although he didn’t know yet what he would find.

And then, there it was.

The sight of the white kimono, the hakama, the black haori—all painstakingly crafted in a way that could only be yours. The way the fabric shimmered slightly in the dim light was enough to bring him back to a time long past, a time when you were still present in this world.

The stitching so delicate and precise spoke of hours spent in quiet concentration, your hand steady as you worked. He recognized it immediately. His heart thudded in his chest, a sharp beat that reverberated in his bones.

The kimono was too big for him. Clearly, it had been designed for his old body. And yet, it felt familiar, almost like a second skin he had never worn but was made to fit him nonetheless. The memory of your presence. Everything of you was shining through, even after all this time. He could see it clearly; your hands, your laughter, your quiet hums as you sewed—came rushing back with such intensity that it almost overwhelmed him.

Sukuna's fingers twitched, and for a moment, he stood still, staring at the kimono as if it were some precious, fragile relic he feared would shatter under his touch. He reached out slowly, as though he could still feel the warmth of your hands in the fabric, the echoes of your care woven into every inch.

His touch was tentative, almost reverent, as if the kimono might disintegrate under his hand. For a fleeting moment, it was as though he could hear your voice, soft and melodic, humming the same tune you always had as you worked. A soft ache settled deep in his chest, a yearning he hadn’t allowed himself to feel for centuries.

He stood, unmoving, eyes fixed on the fabric. His thoughts blurred together, memories of you flooding his mind—of your past selves, of your touch, your presence in his life. Of a long life lived together.

And yet... you were gone.

All of that had come and gone.

Still, he can’t help but long for it.

Sukuna had long since accepted the passage of time, the impermanence of mortal lives, even the ones that had been his to command. But this, this feeling of loss; it was different. His thoughts were dark, bitter, yet they carried something deeper—a sharp longing for a time he could never reclaim.

"Uraume." he finally said, voice thick with something he couldn’t name. "Prepare this for me. I will wear it."

Uraume paused, sensing the change in him, the shift in the air that could only mean one thing. “At once, my lord.”

The room grew quiet once more as Uraume gathered the kimono, intent on following his command. But for a moment, Sukuna remained, staring at the fabric, his mind filled with fleeting images of you: your smiling face, your delicate hands working the needle with such care, the soft hum of a song that had once filled the empty spaces of his temple.

And then, in the stillness, it was as if he could see you again. Not clearly, but a shadow. A fleeting glimpse of your figure in the corner of the room, hunched over the cloth, the same rhythm of your sewing filling the air. His breath caught in his throat, and his heart clenched painfully in his chest.

But no, you were not there. He knew that. He could not allow himself to forget that. You had passed, long ago, lost to time, to the endless cycle of reincarnation.

For a moment, Sukuna let himself be still, standing in the quiet of the chamber. He reached out, his fingers brushing over the fabric once more, this time with more certainty, as if touching it again could bring you back, even for just an instant.

And in that moment, Ryomen Sukuna—the King of Curses, the immortal, the one who had never known regret, felt something in him break. It was a small thing, barely perceptible, but for the first time in a thousand years, Sukuna admitted something to himself, something he had buried deep within him and refused to acknowledge.

He missed you.

The realization hit him with the weight of a thousand years' worth of emotion that had never found its release. It wasn’t just the kimono. It wasn’t just the memories. It was the person you had been—the warmth you had given him, the way you had sewn not just fabric, but pieces of your soul into his life, despite all the darkness that surrounded him.

Sukuna closed his eyes for a moment, his breath deep and slow, before he looked down at the kimono once more. There was a strange sense of finality in the moment, as if the act of touching it somehow completed a circle long left unclosed.

“Uraume.” he said, his voice quieter now, more contemplative. “When you are done, make sure I can wear it tonight. No delays.”

Uraume glanced back at him, silent in their acknowledgement, and bowed. “Understood, my lord.”

And as they left, Sukuna lingered a moment longer in the quiet. The silence stretched, but for once, it wasn’t oppressive. He found himself lost in the memories of a time when the world had felt less cold, when you had been at his side.

And perhaps, he will never feel that again. Perhaps it was never meant to be. He had squandered his chance and now he suffers. He suffers life without you. And perhaps, that is his punishment.

Ryomen Sukuna, this old immortal, this untouchable legend, this unshakable curse could not help but accept his fate.

He accepted this punishment even if it was hard to do so, because there was nothing left of you without it.

For the first time in a long time that the King of Curses longs and yearns for his dearest concubine.

270 notes · View notes

prentissluvr · 5 months ago

Text

literary parallels — sam winchester

pairing : sam winchester x gn!reader ➖⟢ genre : light angst, fluff ➖⟢ cw : small injuries, few seconds of physical fighting (self-defense), no use of y/n, you have a dad and i gave him a name (rick lol), mentions of death of loved ones, sort of case fic, kinda ignores canon timeline in terms of a few minor things but canon doesn't matter much in this fic lol, poorly edited most likely ➖⟢ wc : 3.6K summary : sam is someone from your past at stanford university, and the last place you expect to see him again is on a case. that's exactly where you find him. i plan on doing a part two for this one in the future! :))

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

today is one of those days where the reality of your life feels strange, unwelcome, and somewhat foreign. it’s not as if you’re new to the hunting life; it’s just the opposite, and yet, you often feel removed from it, especially after having lived normally at college for a few years. but you were ripped back into hunting without being able to finish your degree by your father after the death of your closest cousin.

so now you’re cooped up in a crappy motel room searching endlessly through detailed lore websites and the few books you have on you, trying to make sense of the odd patterns of killings in the small california town. that’s part of the pit in your stomach for today; the beach town, cayucos, is only three hours from stanford.

being so close to your former university after almost a whole year brings back a whole lot of mixed feelings. mostly longing for the normalcy that you loved and lost, but also a renewed urgency to find what killed your cousin. she had been studying at a different college just an hour inland from you. when she died, you had wanted to salt and burn her body and move on. but when your father showed up with proof of odd circumstances, he pursuaded you to rejoin him in the hunting life.

the deaths in cayucos are certainly odd, but they lack the defining features that would allow you to identify the creature at fault. so, you’re searching for anything with a grudge against hot men and a killing cycle of seven years since those are about the only patterns so far. your dad is at the coroner’s office, meeting with an old hunter friend to check out the body of the latest victim.

that’s been another reminder of your brief time at a normal school with normal friends and normal hobbies. when your dad first told you he called in a friend to help, he’d asked you, “d’you remember john winchester? you met him once when you were a kid, he’s an old buddy of mine.” you shook your head and he shrugged, saying something about how it makes sense; you were young and only met him once. but the name stuck in your mind as he left, and it had nothing to do with hunting or when you were a kid on the road, stuck in motels, school if you were there long enough, or the town library if you were lucky.

that name, or the last name anyway, comes from the stanford part of your life, the one you keep cherished in the most protected corners of your heart. sam winchester was one of your few friends during your time there, and after hearing his family name spoken aloud, he’s floating through your mind all day.

he disappeared after jess, his girlfriend and one of your other few friends, died, mere weeks before your own cousin died and you left standford as well. you’ve always wondered what happened to him, the best conclusion you could come to being that he couldn’t bear her death. they were absolutely in love with each other, but you know jess would have wanted him to finish at stanford, then head to that law school he was bound to get that full-ride to. sam always had an air of strength about him, so it surprised you when you never saw him again. he wasn’t even at her funeral, and to this day, that’s your singular bone to pick with him.

but, you can’t afford to think about him too much as you search for answers about the case. abandoning the lore websites for the meantime, you look over the police records of all the deaths that you can find, hoping to draw together any more patterns that you can use to narrow down your research. you’re jotting down a few notes, thinking you may have found something regarding accounts of a few of the men being last seen with a woman, when your train of thought is interrupted by an unexpected knock on the door.

on instinct, you draw your gun as you cross the room, looking through the peephole and silently cursing when you realize the light out front has gone out. all you can make out is the tall, broad silluete of a man thanks to the dimness of the twighlight sky.

you wait for a moment at the door, hoping he’ll just walk away after he doesn’t get an answer. but you’re unlucky, and he knocks again before calling out, “hello? rick sent me here to … help with the case, he said his kid was here. i’m john winchester’s son, sam.”

if you were in an old-timey cartoon, your jaw would’ve dropped to the floor. sam … sam winchester. it sounds just like him. trying to keep your head, you swap your gun for a nearby canteen of holy water and slip a silver knife into your pocket for accessibility. it’s too much of a coincidence for you to believe it.

you crack the door, just enough for him to hear you a bit better. “sam winchester? like stanford full-ride, lawyboy sam winchester?”

“i– how do you–” there’s a moment of silence, and you know that he’s piecing together the few clues he has; your voice and the last name you must share with your dad, the man he knows as rick. his voice is just as cautious as yours as he says your name like he can’t really believe it.

for a moment, you stop thinking when you hear his voice saying your name after so long, and you throw open the door and let him in. the light from the motel room finally illuminates his face, and it’s him, it’s really him. and the moment you think that is the moment you realize that could absolutely not be the case.

the second he turns to you from closing the door, you’re splashing holy water in his face so fast you barely catch the look he was about to give you; eyes so full of surprise and wonder and confusion and something akin to joy. you react quickly to his lack of reaction besides the normal surprise at getting splashed in the face, slashing at his arm with your silver knife to finish testing him. but he reacts just as fast as you, grabbing both of your wrists, spinning you around and pinning you to the flat surface of the door.

his hold is quite strong, but he doesn’t have the time to bear his full weight into holding you down before you react, so you’re able to manuever out of his hold with practiced ease. you lift one arm up as you yank the other down to make it so you’re able to slip down and to the side, out of his hold. then you’ve got a strong hand to his back, shoving him face-first against the door and your other arm bringing your knife to his throat.

the thought that his profile view with his pulled-taut eyebrows and the grimace on his mouth looks pretty has the audacity to float up to the forefront of your mind before you can squash it down. the whole struggle had taken mere seconds, and he resigns the minute you’ve got him pinned down.

“it’s me,” he pants, “i swear. ‘m not a shapeshifter or ghoul or anything, it was just instinct. sorry,” he explains quickly, “go ahead, test me.”

you debate saying “don’t mind if i do,” but decide that you don’t have to be teasing or snarky about it. instead, you tamp down your hesitance to hurt him, even a little bit because he still sort of feels like innocent, regular, lawboy sam to you, and you draw a thin line of blood at the spot where his neck slopes into his broad shoulder. there’s no burning, just a normal wince from his mouth, so you loosen your hold on him and step back, internally cringing at the small bit of blood beginning to slip down towards his collarbone.

“sorry,” you say, far more sincere than you would be if it’d been anybody else. this is the norm for hunters, but you haven’t quite wrapped your mind around the fact that sam is a hunter. you’d never once would have guessed, though you suppose that was the point. you had done everything you could to hide that part of your life during your time at stanford.

“it’s fine,” he gives you an awkward half-smile, just as sincere as you. “just, y’know, your turn.” you’d been so busy taking in the sight of him standing there, looking almost exactly the same, but not quite, as he had in college, that you forgot about the courtesy of testing yourself too.

“right,” you clear your throat, “of course.” without the hesitance any normal person would have, you take the knife to your forearm and splash a bit of holy water on your skin. “there we go. no demons or shapeshifters or the like. that’s good.” you feel incredibly awkward all of the sudden, still so bewildered and thrown off balance by the collision of your two words. it feels like too much of a coincidence for you to be this close to your old school, be thinking about sam winchester, a symbol of that old life, then for him to show up and flip your whole entire understanding of him. there’s just about a million things running through your mind at just about a million miles per hour and it’s starting to make your head hurt.

the movement of his hand, reaching up to hold the small cut you gave him is what brings you out of your short lived reverie.

“god, i’m sorry. let me get you something for that.” you don’t give him the time to politely tell you, “no, it’s okay,” like you know he would before you’ve turned your back and crossed the room to grab a first aid kit from your bag and some rubbing alcohol from the bathroom. “sit down,” you urge him when you turn back to him, motioning towards the table you’d been seated at when he arrived.

he complies and once again, you’re thinking about the strangeness of sharing this sort of space with him. you’re used to seeing him in libraries so big that they’re almost grand for quiet study sessions or in the dining hall with his nose buried in a book or in the lecture hall where you first met him in a gen-ed class. you’re used to seeing him on one of the grassy quads with jess by his side or him in the big, open, and fancy old university buildings. now he looks right at home in the dingy motel room, so small it feels like his tall, broad frame shouldn’t fit in here, so dim that his sometimes blue or green eyes look sort of muddy. they’re pretty, nonetheless.

you set the first aid kit on the table and pull out a large bandaid and a bit of gauze. you reasses the cut to be sure he doesn’t need any other sort of bandaging and almost sigh in relief when you see how shallow it is. sam doesn’t speak or protest that he’s fine to do it himself as you pull the collar of his t-shirt aside just a bit. you’re sure his mind’s busy with a whole load of questions for you, just like you for him. the brush of your knuckles against his skin suddenly makes his presence feel more real. whatever contact you’d had during the short-lived fight you’d had was completely surreal; you weren’t sure he was really even sam, and if he was, it would feel like a lie anyways, for his hands to be rough or so quick in a fight.

he doesn’t so much as wince when you press alcohol soaked gauze to the cut, and though the wound is small and shallow enough that you’re sure it barely stings, it still feels like a sign of his being a hunter, being used to pain. you don’t like that thought; sweet, sincere, and ever so smart sam being used to pain. as you take care of the cut, he lets his eyes wander around the room, probably taking in how familiar it is, and how weird that it’s your motel room and all of your belongings packed into a single bag and your computer screen displaying hacked into police reports and the very same lore websites he frequents to solve a tricky case.

when you’re done he thanks you with a small smile and you take the seat across from him. as your fingers had brushed over his bare skin and felt a whisper of his strong shoulders, you’d gotten the strong urge to hug him. you missed him even more than you thought. that urge doesn’t leave when you move away from him.

you make a confused face at sam when he reaches for the first aid kit and pulls out another set of bandaids and gauze. he just hands you a gauze now soaked with alcohol and nods at you.

“for your arm,” he explains, because you’ve already forgotten about that as you accept it with a questioning brow.

“right,” you chuckle softly, swiping over the cut with the gauze, then taking and applying the bandaid that sam opened for you. when you’re done you have to drag your eyes up to meet sam’s gaze. there’s tension in the room, and though it’s not bad per se, it’s begging to be addressed and you’re not sure how to even start. it seems like sam’s not sure either.

so, you choose to jump right into the fire.

“it’s so good to see you, sam,” you confess, pushing all your sincerity into your voice, “i mean, this is absolutely insane and i can’t quite wrap my mind around it, but i guess i don’t really care because it’s so good to see you. i worried about you so much after … after jess died, i mean, you just dissappeared and … and i can imagine that has something to do with the fact that you’re a hunter, which is sort of incomprehensible to me, but–,” suddenly you’re hit with a new realization. if sam’s disappearance had to do with the supernatural, you wonder if jess’s death did too. but you don’t want to ask, not right now. “oh, god, and i never got to tell you how sorry i am. i– i mean. i can’t imagine.” there’s where your voice trails off and you look to sam to be the one to say something now.

“thanks,” he answers simply, voice gentle but a little pained, rightfully so. “she was your friend, too. i mean, we were all friends. and i’m sorry i disappeared like that. i, um, well, you’re right. hunting dragged me away. it’s complicated and i’ll explain it to you later. you deserve to know what happened to jess, but– but it’s a lot.” a moment of silence allows that to sink in; so something did happen to her, something more than just faulty electrical wiring in her apartment. sam’s genuine as he goes on, “and it’s great to see you too, really. it’s so strange, i mean all of this, obviously, but it’s even stranger how close we are to stanford. i was already thinking about it, about you all on the way over, and the next thing i know, you’re the suspicious hunter throwing holy water in my face.”

you cringe a little at that, but sam smiles a little wider than he has all night. “that’s a good thing,” he half-laughs, “i don’t care how weird this coincidence is, i’m glad for it.” his hand twitches, almost as if he’d wanted to reach over and grab your hand, but thought better of it before it could happen. “i gotta ask, did you finish your degree?” the way he asks is so hopeful, and you immediately know how much he wants the answer to be yes. he’s thinking, if i couldn’t finish, please tell me at least one of us could. that one of us poor and foolish hunter kids who thought we could escape managed to long enough to finish a degree, prove that we could make something of ourselves in the normal world. it would be so nice to see that, if it couldn’t be me, it could be somebody, it could be you.

his face falls a little when he registers the sad smile on your face. your expression is more than enough of an answer, and the fact that he wanted so badly for you to have made it makes your heart break a little, for both him and you. we deserved better, you think.

“just about the same thing happened to me,” you begin to explain, “you remember my cousin, bex?” sam nods, recalling the way the two of you acted like siblings the few times he met her, how much you liked alike when you smiled, already sad for what he suspects he might hear. “she died a few weeks after jess. she and i both grew up hunting, and we both thought we got out of it, at least for a little while. we almost lasted all four years … i didn’t think there was anything weird with her death, but … my dad showed me proof of just that at her funeral, convinced me to come back to hunting with him. she was– she was hiding something, and, honestly i’m still not sure what happened. progress on her case has been slow. real slow, so we’ve been working on others in the meantime. keeping busy, you know.”

“oh, i know,” sam sighs, and you completely believe him. you wonder for a moment what bigger things he’s digging into before deciding it’s best if the two of you stick to what’s in front of you. if you go too deep, having each other, a new kind of steady presence from better times, might start feeling too unreal again.

you want to preserve this delicate balance, where sam is still stanford sam and you’re still stanford you, but now there’s just a deeper understanding of each other. a knowing of what it’s like to grow up with a hunter for a father, to want to get away from it all, to want a sense of normalcy, and to want to learn and become something more and say “screw you!” to all of the expections. and on top of that, knowing how it feels to get so close to the finish line, only to have it ripped out of your hands like you’re a child who’s parents think they’ve had too much candy. only it’s far worse than a half eaten lollipop in the trash because people that you love died, and it was all so much more than just chasing after a momentary sugar high.

“i’m sorry about bex,” sam says, this time actually reaching out and placing his hand on yours for a moment. his voice is as full of empathy and sincerity as ever. “she was amazing the few times i met her. i could see how close you two were.”

“thanks, sam.” you give him a small smile because those words feel so much better coming from him than just about anyone else. with that, the air seems to settle a little, and it’s far more bearable. you’ve still got a hundred and one questions to ask and a hundred and one more things to say to each other, but to find out you have this near-exact shared experience is like having so much of the weight of loneliness lifted from your chest. and it all feels even better because you know sam. you know him already.

sure, there’s a whole lot you missed before, but you don’t doubt for a second that the sam sitting in front of you is as kind, funny, smart, witty, sincere, adorably awkward, and good as the sam you met and came to know at stanford. in fact, knowing he grew up the way he did just reaffirms his goodness to you. it’s not easy to live like that and continue choosing to be kind and well-meaning and true to yourself. then there’s this feeling of admiration for sam, just blooming in your chest and you hold back a wide grin because the timing’s not quite right. you still can’t shake the urge to hug him.

“well,” you smile casually, if not a little rueful as you say your next words, “i think our dads will go all hunter-dad-crazy on us if we keep playing catch up. i’ll give you a run down of everything i’ve got, then we can do what dropouts from the west coast’s most prestigious school’s do best; research.”

sam’s smile matches your own, and it’s achingly familiar. “well, we can’t have those asses ruin our not-quite-stanford-alumni reuinion. let’s get to work. we can pretend it’s like the good old days, spring freshman year, all of us cramming for the way-er exam at the back of the library and getting shushed by the librarians. we can pretend john and rick are the librarians.”

for the first time in a long time, you let out a loud laugh, surprised and pulled right out of you without warning. he smiles wide at the sound and finally, without restraint, you grin back. god, you missed him.

196 notes · View notes

retrospacejelly · 5 months ago

Text

A Western Romance

Pairing: Ex-outlaw!Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lost and in need of a place to stay, the ex-outlaw needs a place to sleep. Good thing he wandered into your yard.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Guns, Mentions of the devil’s tango, typical cowboy things, language

Part: 1/?

Part: 1, 2, 2 1/2, 3

Not proofread

A/N: Personally, there should be more Western Miguel content. I love Cowboys! I had this idea brewing for a while, and character ai helped push the plot! (Thank you Monstera for letting me expand on the plot!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crickets chirped as the sun set over the horizon. Despite the warm weather of July, a nice breeze blew through the small town of Nueva Falls. On the outskirts of the tiny town, a small house sat just over the hills, hidden from society.

Y/N hummed a tune as she took her now-dry linens off the worn line. A weaved basket sat at her boot-covered feet, holding sheets, blankets, and whatever else was washed that morning.

As she reached for the last sheet, a twig snapped in front of her. Pausing both her movements and her humming, she listened for any other noises. It could always be a rodent or a coyote. She mentally groaned. Ever since one of the panels to the fence around the chicken coop broke, coyotes had been raiding (or at least attempting to raid) the coop.

She brandished her pistol that had sat snug between her hip and skirt, slowly moving from behind the sheet. Best not to provoke it. For now.

Y/N squints at the now darkened horizon, not noticing an immediate threat. Before she could turn around, a hand slipped around her middle and another over her mouth.

“Don’t make a sound, Dama.”

The voice grunts out. His breathing is uneven, and despite his strength, sounds weak. Y/N nods frantically, pistol still clutched tightly in her hand. He slowly releases her, turning her around to face him.

Now getting a better view of the man, Y/N’s jaw almost dropped. Why he had to be over 6’5! His tan skin shined with what little moonlight was above, his piercing gaze watching her every move. She did the same.

Lowering her gaze, she noticed his disheveled state. His clothes were wrinkled and darkened from dust and grime, his peppered hair messy and sticking to the nape of his neck. He didn’t seem to have a weapon of any kind, not that he’d need one with his burly build.

“Are you hurt?” she asked, trying to scan for any noticeable injuries. Seemingly taken aback by her question, there’s a beat of silence before he lets out a deep chuckle. Lord.

“Are people in this town always this kind and trustin’ of strangers?” He replies, his eyes falling onto her gun. “Well, ‘Cept maybe you.”.

Y/N can’t help but smirk, a surge of confidence taking over. “Well, I’m not like most people in this town. That shoulda’ been made obvious to ya’ when you wandered on my property. Now. Are you hurt? And what are you doin’ on my property?” She prods again.

He shakes his head. “No, no. I ain’t hurt. Just tired and hungry. What’s a lil’ thing like you doin’ out here by lonesome anyhow? Don’t you know wild animals roam ‘round at night?”

She huffs, annoyed. “You don’t do too well answerin’ questions, now do ya? Why. Are. You. On. My. Property?”

He throws his hands up in mock defense, shrugging off her comment. “I’ve been wanderin’ through the desert for the past two days after my horse broke its leg. Long story short, I was robbed by bandits while I was camped out, and all I have on me are the clothes on my back, Senora.” He moves closer, boldly reaching up to caress her cheek,

“Please, I just need a place to stay and a meal to eat. Your abode was the first inklin’ of settlement I’ve seen these past two days.” He looks into her eyes, his voice now a whisper. “Please.”

She hums skeptically, taking a step back. “Why not stay at an inn in town? They got brothels to keep a horn dog such as yourself company.” Y/N snarks back, slipping her pistol back into her waistband.

He chuckles again. “You suggestin’ I partake in those kinds of…sinful pleasures? Now that’s just hurtful, Princessa.”

“What unmarried man doesn’t?” Y/N snaps, crossing her arms. She taps her foot against the ground, waiting for another comeback. Once again he chuckles, shaking his head. Some conversation they were having.

“And how would you know if I’m a married man or not, hun?”

“Well, I don’t see no ring on your finger. And with the way you were touchin’ me earlier, what else am I to assume, hun?”

He grins. “Who says I’m flirtin'? Maybe I’m just a friendly guy.” A beat of silence. “A bit too friendly, don’t you think?”. He shrugs again, “Is there such a thing as bein’ too friendly?” he inquires.

She nods, “‘Course there is.” He takes a step forward again, his posture relaxed. He takes a lock of hair into his hand, twirling it. “If I’m bein' too friendly, then tell me ta scram.”

Y/N smiles, “‘Corrdin’ to you I’m too kind.”. Noticing her playful jest, he smiles too. “Yeah, a real ray of sunshine you are.” He teases, dropping her lock of hair. “Mn, and you a ball o’ fire.”

“You seem awfully friendly for a gal who brandished her gun towards me.” He says, leaning in ever so slightly. Y/N places a hand on her pistol. “Yeah, and this gal still has her gun. Don’t go tryin’ nothin’ now”.

He lowers his voice. “Trust me sweet thing. I’d never do nothin’ of the sort…less you want me to?”. She leans in, just an inch away from his face, only to swiftly pull away. “How many nights you plan on stayin’ cowboy?”.

His eyes widen at her trick, but he quickly regains his composure. “Just a night, Darlin.”

She nods. “Mn, alright. I won’t charge ya…money that is.”

He smirks. “What are ya lookin’ for in exchange then…?”

“Help on my ranch.” Y/N shuffles past him and picks up her basket. She pulls the sheet from the line and plops it in the basket. “One of the panels that fence my chicken coop done broke on me, and I haven’t had time to fix it. Damn coyotes keep trying to snag a snack.” She huffs, setting the basket on her hip. “Sound like a deal?”

He ponders over her offer, looking up at the moon. He looks back down at her. “You’re askin’ a total stranger to work on your ranch for a night?”

She refrains from rolling her eyes. “I’m also lettin’ a total stranger into my house. I think rationality has flown out the window. Besides, you were the one to come onto my property askin’ for a bed and a meal.”

He rests his hands on his hips. “You’re an interestin’ one, I’ll give ya that. Can’t tell if you’re too trustin’ or jus’ know how to talk a man inta’ doin’ favors for ya’.”

She shrugs, “The motel’s open all night, you choose.”

He lets out a sigh, not wanting to go into the busy town. Surely someone would recognize him there. He’s surprised she hasn’t already. “Alright, Senora. Ya got yourself a deal. I’ll fix up yer fence if it means a roof over my head and a pretty lil’ thing to keep me company.”

Y/N chuckles, a light blush dusting her cheeks. “Alright, c’mon and follow me.” She says, walking towards her back porch. She hears his heavy footsteps trailing behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel 2099 #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara x reader #for you #miguel atsv #spiderman 2099 x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman

143 notes · View notes

onyourowndaisymae · 1 year ago

Text

don't mind me... just thinking about the dateables slowly dropping the rest of their roster for you as they fall head over heels...

diavolo // barbatos (you are here) // simeon // solomon -- x gn!reader, NSFW below the cut

barbatos, who will always be there for lord diavolo. when the idea of an exchange program first popped in the prince's head, barbatos was the backboard in which diavolo bounced his ideas off of. humans and angels in the devildom? how would we keep them safe? what would their curriculum look like? the program slowly molds into shape with each of these conversations. he watches as the idea grows to a proposal, then a plan, and finally, a real project to work towards. the prince is always chipper when discussing the program. a few nobles doubt that the plan will come to fruition, but barbatos has long since learned that doubting the prince will only motivate him more. when the day of the exchange program begins, barbatos watches with a small, almost entirely smile as the future king of the devildom welcomes the new students to his academy.

barbatos, who lives to please. it's his purpose, his sole duty in the devildom day in and day out. when lord diavolo orders him to make sure you feel welcome, he does the job with flourish. your favorite desserts are always at tea when you visit. he's sure to answer any questions or concerns you have promptly as you tour the castle. he even loosens the leash on the young master just a little as the two of you grow closer, giving him some grace to spend time with you over staying cooped up in his office-- so long as you continue to enjoy yourself. maybe somewhere along the way affection blurs into duty, obligation fading into genuine interest. he's there to lend a listening ear, to be a shoulder to cry on or a hand to hold should you so desire. barbatos never oversteps his bounds, for that would be wholly unprofessional. but he never speaks up when you linger in the kitchen, shuffling in your spot as you babble on about whatever comes to mind. he never rushes you out after a long day at the castle visiting the young master, even when the skies are dark and lucifer is impatient to know your estimated arrival time back at the house of lamentation. it's the little things that let you know he cares... maybe even a little more than he believes he should.

barbatos, who doesn't mind your company-- even if you're a little distracting. your laughter echoes through the garden, giddy chirps quickly becoming loud, joyous barks of noise as little d's bound around your feet. their voices overlap, all too excited to be avoiding their gardening duty, as they bombard you with jokes and stories. barbatos should send them on their way. but you look so happy. you once said that they reminded you of dogs from the human realm with the way they darted around and got into trouble. the metaphor wasn't perfect, considering they were still conniving little demons, but they'd suffice. anything to ease your homesickness, after all. he doesn't even realize the tree trimmers in his own hands have stalled until you cry out-- how long had he been watching you? in a moment of darting demons and misplaced footsteps, you tumble to the ground, tripped by one of the little d's. he knows it's an accident, but his tone is venomous as he tells the demons to get away from you. they scatter like roaches. he's quick to make his way to your side, and you laugh, brushing off his concerns as he helps you up. but look. your palm is red and irritated from the impact. it's not enough of a scrape to draw blood, but you still got hurt. barbatos bows deeply to apologize for allowing them to take things too far-- he should have been watching better. he'll find a fitting punishment for them, although he doesn't share that with you. your hands wave in panic as you assure him no, it's okay, don't apologize! he inspects the injury again, gloved fingers gliding against the wound, watching your face from the corner of his eye to see if he's causing you any discomfort. you appear to be fine. barbatos does the courteous thing-- surely, that's the only motivator for his actions, nothing else-- and presses a soft kiss to the wound as a final, silent apology. your eyes are wide when he meets them again, lips curling nervously into an uncertain smile. if he didn't know any better, he'd say you look like you're already plotting your next injury. maybe that's just his imagination.

barbatos, who has grown. who has lived a long, long life, and will continue to live far into the future, where the human mind can no longer perceive time. he was around long before you were a fruit on your family tree-- hell, he was probably born before it was even planted. he's seen civilizations rise and fall. greed has swallowed whole kingdoms under his silent watch, castles crumbling under the weight of their own hubris while he didn't say a word. humans are so flawed, so sinful. he's never cared much for their weight in his life. he used to think the realms were better off separate-- until he met the young master, of course-- but now he knows where he was wrong. your clumsy fingers fumble with the ingredients, their foreign colors and textures tripping you up as you follow the recipe he wrote out for you. he has to stop himself from micromanaging you. barbatos watches you from the corner of his eyes as he kneads out the pastry dough in his hands. the cultural exchange must be hard for you, even after all these months you've been immersed in demon culture. he doesn't think about it, didn't think about it, until one of the brothers brought it up in passing. how strange. you've adapted quite well to everything. his mind wanders as he watches you look between measuring cups. how long as it been? how long have these sorts of feelings been dormant in him, this level of passion for another living creature? you captivate him like no other. when he was a younger demon, he spent years wandering, indulging every hedonistic desire he had. there were countless lovers left in his dust, tangled bedsheets and broken hearts trailing back to the dawn of time. it'd been a long time since he bothered to look at anyone romantically, even longer since someone stirred these feelings up on their own. yet here you were. special, truly. a grin split your face, and barbatos watched as you did a little dance to celebrate your successful attempt at completing this portion the recipe. praise flowed like warm honey from his lips. his words made your grin wider, if at all possible. you crossed the counter to press a giddy little kiss against his cheek, and he stilled for a long moment. how did a little kiss affect him so? this, he might never realize. he broke the spell with a small chuckle and returned the favor-- properly, this time, pressing his lips against yours for a moment before refocusing your attention on the desserts you had yet to finish. he'd met a lot of humans in his lifetime, and yet there was something about you none of the rest of them had. but what? he'd gladly spend as long as he needed to in pursuit of that answer.

barbatos, who will never get tired of a quiet morning. they're rare in his profession-- usually he's up early, silently pattering about as he begins preparing to wake the rest of the castle. but today that is not the case. today he's curled around you like vines on ruins, body intertwined with yours until he hardly knows where he ends and you begin. the crypt he calls a room is dark at all hours of the day, only illuminated by candles and other such lights when someone walks in. but you've got a special lamp from the human world that brightens your room in tune with the time of day, like the sun in the human realm does naturally. the warm light caresses the curve of your cheeks, the curl of your lips, the fluttering of your eyelids as you begin to stir. there's a part of him that wants you to stay asleep. he wants to observe your drowsy form a little longer, to burn the shape of you into his brain so he'll never know another moment without your face. but your eyes open, and you smile-- maybe having you wake up isn't such a bad thing. you rasp a good morning. he returns the favor. and when you kiss him good morning, he again follows suit. it's lazily, all warm lips and breathy chuckles as your hands come to his cheeks. his arm was already wrapped around your side, and barbatos takes the opportunity to rub circles into your back. neither of you pull away, and lazy kisses grow more heated when left to progress. his lips trail across your skin, breath tickling your collarbone, your sternum, your stomach, until he reaches the waistband of your sleep shorts. he spares you a quick glance to see you nod, easing yourself out of your lower garments with his assistance. his tongue laps softly at your sex, eliciting a content sigh from you. your thighs wrap carefully around his head, and his arms link around them to hold you close. sleep clings to your skin like his touch. it's all light, all careful, his lips wrapping around your sex and sucking just enough to make you whine. it's a gentle build up of pleasure inside you. his fingers replace his lips somewhere along the way, stroking you as his tongue moves instead to your hole. his tongue pushes shallowly inside you, alternating between lapping and thrusting in a way that leaves you squirming around his head. trembling fingers grip his hair when you eventually climax. there's love in his eyes and in his smile as he licks his mess clean, his spit mixing with yours juices around his mouth and between your thighs. he only moves when you murmur something about wanting him inside you-- that catches his attention, and he's quick to finish cleanup before slipping out of his own clothes. he needs nothing more than a simple kiss to be prepped for you after such a wonderful show. your pleasure is his pleasure. his lips meet yours, and he lines himself up carefully before pushing into your hole with a few languid, easy thrusts. a sigh catches between your joined lips-- is it his, or yours?-- and he waits a moment before moving inside of you. you exist in many timelines, many worlds, all living different lives with different people. but he is eternally grateful he lives in this one. he couldn't imagine every being content after having you like this, ever craving someone else like he does you. a lifetime without you is simply not worth living in-- that, barbatos is sure of.

taglist for this series: @the-demonus-aunt // @scienceisfornerds // @hostilemakeover // @snow-fall1 // @kachan890 // @rphantom1 // @respitable // @deepseafragments // @niinian

#my apologies for dropping this a day late i wanted to do him justice #this is not as smutty as some of the others either but i genuinely don't picture him to have a real roster like the others #also i'm just now looking and this is Long As Hell #obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #obey me barbatos #obey me x reader #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me smut

949 notes · View notes

fxlling13 · 4 months ago

Text

505

Dhawan!master x (fem) reader

Synopsis: you and The Master find yourselves growing closer when he agrees to try therapy with The Doctor again. However, Yaz can’t let go of the past.

Warnings: sexual harassment. Harsh words. Death. Yaz is really mean and annoying. Out of character master. Injury and blood. Allusions to smut but no detail.

WC:19.1k

“But I crumble completely when you cry…”

Over an hour, it had been over an hour since The Doctor had taken The Master (kicking and screaming) out of the room with her. It may have seemed impossible at one point but, somehow, you and yaz found yourselves bored. Sitting in the console room of the doctors fluorescent tardis, you were bored.

“Are they not done yet?” Yaz groaned, giving up on scrolling through her phone. Even though it had to be done, the time was dragging. Giving the girl a short shrug, you spoke,

“The Doctor does tend to waffle.” You both laughed.

“True. But it’s cute.” Yaz grinned, causing you to roll your eyes playfully.

“I think you may be a bit biased of your girlfriend.”

“Also true.” She replied proudly, making you scoff half heartedly. Again it went silent, as you both waited for the aliens to return with little patience. Though, you knew what was happening was very important. And something you secretly wanted to work out. After a very scary and dramatic encounter with The Master, seeing him become her, finally seeing what it was he needed, she had formulated a plan. One that, at first, yaz was completely against. She wanted to bring him on board, as a form of therapy. This plan included convincing him to stay on board, allowing her to store his tardis within the depths of his own, taking away all his ‘evil’ tech, and giving him a firm talking to about his behaviour. Plus a lot more that was far too deep to get into. Yaz said that he would reject the idea, teleport right out of there and try to kill them once again. However, to everyone’s surprise, he did not do that. Instead, he sat in his med-bay bed, a deep scowl etched on his features.

———

“I have just one request. If I were to try this silly idea.” He grumbled, making The Doctor stand straight.

“And what’s that?” She enquired. You had Yaz stood at the back of the room, observing the whole conversation. She was apprehensive, nails half bitten off. You just focused on the male mostly, hoping for the best.

“I don’t want it to be like last time. You keeping me cooped up. If I do this, take me with you. Let me be involved and I’ll promise to try. Properly try.” The Master was serious with his words, sincerity in his tone. In front of him, the blonde pursed her lips in thought but eventually exhaled slowly.

“I suppose that’s only fair. Yes. Yes that can happen. As long as you help to make sure Yaz and (y/n) are safe on our outings?” Her eyes narrowed at him, really testing him and trying to push at his buttons.

“I can do that.” He said instantly, turning his head and locking eyes with you. Surprised, you smiled at him softly, hoping it would really reach him.

“Good, well once you’ve recovered we can get started on the process!” The Doctor cheered, clasping her hands together before ushering everyone out.

A few days later, you sat in your room. The tardis was in “night mode”. Something The Doctor had set up a while back to help everyone have a healthy sleeping pattern. Though, all you could think about was how The Master had been left, almost, entirely alone for three days. The Doctor had instructed you both to leave him alone, let him rest and his body heal itself. You imagined that she would be driving the man even more insane, and you wanted to check up on him, for some reason. So, against her word, you snuck down the metallic corridors until you found the med bay. Perhaps he’d be asleep? Or maybe even have escaped by then. Cracking the door open, you peeked in and saw him, sat up in bed holding a worn out book. You took a deep breath before slipping into the room quietly. Did you announce yourself? What did you even say? You had no reason to be there.

“Up late. Aren’t we (y/n)?” He spoke calmly, without even looking up from his book.

“How did you know it was me?” You asked timidly, watching him put the book aside. The Master looked at you, making you feel self conscious in your choice of nightware.

“I always know when it’s you, dear.” Blushing, you pulled at the bottom of your hoodie slightly.

“I didn’t mean to bother you I was just-“

“Curious?” He cut in, gaze fixated on you, as if analysing you.

“Well I was actually going to say worried. I know that being with The Doctor for three days, having her rant at you must be draining. But yeah, you can say I was curious too I suppose.” Replying, you played with your fingers, eyes wandering around the room. It was dimly lit by a few overhead lights, three beds and many cupboards fully stocked with medicine. The Master was taken aback by your honesty, not expecting anyone to worry for him. He cleared his throat to gain your attention once again.

“You can come closer you know, I won’t hurt you.” Taking a few steps forward, you tilted your head.

“Won’t? Or can’t?” You half joked, taking a seat on the chair beside him.

“I won’t. You know I won’t.” He said in all seriousness, giving you a pointed look. Of course, he was correct. In all the run ins you’d had, you’d never been hurt. The first time, he timed things so you wouldn’t get on that trap of a plane. The next he forced you into following him to Gallifrey with The Doctor, keeping you to the side as he imprisoned her. And every time after that, you were always off to the side. Only last time things went a little wrong.

“You’re correct, I fear my ears have begun to shrivel from The Doctors lectures.” His monotone voice made you giggle, knowing that he was of course just joking. Playing along, you looked and nod.

“Looks like it.” He just rolled his eyes playfully and sighed adjusting his pillows.

“What were you reading?”

“Oh, an ancient book from when I was young. I’ve actually read it many times. Close to a hundred.” Carefully, you picked it up and looked at its scratched cover. Galifreyan writing was beautiful but could never be translated.

“I can read it to you one day if you’d like? I imagine I’m going to have a lot of free time now.” The Master suggested nonchalantly, but you couldn’t help but to smile.

“I’d like that.” Putting it down again, you pulled your knees up and hugged them tightly. It was cold in there.

“What kept you up, hm? Surely not just worrying about little old me.” He teased. You scoffed, pulling the grey hood over your head.

“You wish. I just don’t sleep well, I sometimes don’t sleep much at all.”

“That can’t be good for you, you need your energy to run from whatever danger she puts you through.” His brows were knit together closely, taking more notice of your dark circles and low voice.

“Yeah but, I pull through. I just run at the back. Or let The Doctor hold my hand.” Giving a little shrug, you missed the way the males eye twitched.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He muttered, frowning after a moment.

“You’re cold.” His statement made you look to him. Not knowing what else to say, you just stood up.

“I guess I’ll go. Down want to bother you anymore than I already have.” Before you could turn away, The Master reached out and grabbed your wrist. Wincing, you looked back confused.

“You can stay, if you’d like? You’re not bothering me.” Shocked at his honestly, you bobbed your head slowly, allowing the man to guide you and sit you down on the edge of the bed.

“I suppose I already broke The Doctors rule anyway…” pushing up your sleeve, The Master scowled at the long cut that sat unattended.

“She didn’t dress it?”

“Well you did regenerate twice then proceed to get crushed by a giant rock.” You pointed out bluntly, not thinking much of it.

“Yes. But my body can heal itself like magic. Yours cannot.” The Master got up, walking over to the cupboards and grabbing a small bag.

“You’re not supposed to get up.”

“(Y/n) I healed days ago. Now let me wrap that. It’s my fault you got hurt in the first place.” Sensing some remorse. You simpered as he sat back with you and took hold of your arm. Wasting no time, he cleaned the wound of dried blood before looking more closely.

“It needs a stitch.” He let out, reaching back for the items needed. You chewed on your lip anxiously, eyes darting to follow his every move. Taking notice, he sat straight.

“It won’t hurt, I promise. See this?” He held up a spray bottle, then shook it slightly before spraying over the cut. Your arm began to feel like jelly. Quickly. He got to work and stitched up the top of the cut, wrapping it securely. You felt nothing.

“I’ll change the bandage for you tomorrow. Take this, it fights off infection.” In his hand sat a small white pill. Deciding to trust him, you took it gratefully.

“Why are you being nice to me? Surely your therapy isn’t working that fast.” He chuckled at your question, settling back into bed.

“No of course it isn’t. But I am trying. For everyone’s sake. The only reason I’m in the med bay is because The Doctor is running around, making sure my tardis and all my belongings are locked away.”

“But..I’d assume your TCE would be in your jacket..no?” You wondered, looking at said coat hung up across the room.

“You’re right. It’s still there. Go see for yourself.” Going over, you routed through his pockets, finding a lot more than just one device.

“You could have killed me by now.”

“But I’m not going to kill you (y/n). You can choose to be wary. I understand.” He almost sounded sad. If he was lying, he was beyond convincing. Your eyes suddenly felt very heavy, along with your limbs becoming tingly.

“Come here, love. You look tired.” The Master beckoned you over with his arms agape. It really did look inviting, and you found yourself going to him almost immediately. Helping you onto the bed, The Master pulled you next to him.

“ ‘was fine a minute ago…” you barely mumbled out, subconsciously shuffling closer to the man for warmth.

“It must have just caught up with you hm?” The realisation dawned on you, where you were.

“Can’t sleep…Doctor will be mad..” feeling a hand land on your head, The Master ran his fingers through your hair tenderly.

“Don’t worry about that. Rest for now.”

The next thing you knew, you were waking up in your own bed. Thoroughly confused, you got yourself dressed and quickly headed into the console room. Stopping dead in your tracks, your eyes met with his once again.

“Ah, (y/n) you’ve never slept in this late before!” The Doctor beamed, bounding over to you.

“As of today The Master will be hanging around, I let yaz know earlier.” You just nod, looking around for her.

“She left in a sulk, didn’t she Doctor?” The Master chortled, leaning back against one of the pillars. Huffing, the blonde shook her head.

“She’ll come round to it soon. I’m going to have a talk with her now actually. Will you be ok (y/n)?” She looked at you dourly, leaving you puzzled

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” You crossed your arms, as she relaxed slightly before heading off.

“She was asking if you’d be okay alone, with me.” The Master let you know, slowly striding over to you. Now understanding, you let out a small ‘oh’ before focusing back on him.

“How did I end up back in my bed?”

“I put you there.” He stated plainly, idly scratching at his stubble.

“You..carried me?” Starting to feel slightly embarrassed, he just smiled.

“Of course. Though I must say, you’re very clingy in your sleep. It took a while to get you to let go of me.” The tone of his voice caused your cheeks to turn red, heat flushing over you.

“God, I’m so sorry.” You were quick to apologise, hands coming up to cover your face.

“For what?” Perplexed, he stood directly in front of you but you didn’t dare to move. Tutting, The Master gently tugged your hands away from your face, holding them.

“For being clingy…even if I was asleep. And I’m sorry you had to carry me when you’re recovering. I’m sorry I went into your room an-“ in a second, he placed his finger to your lips, effectively making you stop.

“Hush.” Though the word was hard, his voice was not and you just nod as he lowered his hand to hold your own again.

“None of that was an inconvenience to me, (y/n). I welcomed your company with open arms. I didn’t mind helping you sleep, or taking you to bed. Not at all. You should relax. I’m here for a long time, I’m sure you’ll get used to it eventually.” You blinked several times, letting what he says sink in. He welcomed your company. He didn’t mind. You knew he could by lying, but he seemed really genuine.

“I’m guessing you sent me to sleep too?”

“I did. For twelve whole hours. Don’t you feel better though?” He smirked, letting go of your hands. It left you feeling cold and you had to stop yourself from complaining.

“I do. Thank you.” You gave a half smile, hugging yourself slightly.

“Did The Doctor confiscate your weapons?”

“Of course she did, though she was happy I hadn’t shrunk anyone. She should feel lucky. All that rambling she did. And I’ve got more to come. Now if she were pocket size…” he trailed off with a thoughtful look and you laughed.

“You wouldn’t, who else would you chase and bully through the universe huh?” This time, he scoffed, shaking his head.

“Very true. I suppose I’ll put up with her for now. I’m actually curious about your outings. I want to experience that.” As he spoke, you took a seat on the steps, hugging your knees close.

“It’s a lot of running you know. Like a lot.”

“Yes I gathered. But don’t worry, I’ll help you keep up.” Even though you didn’t know what he meant, it didn’t sound very malicious.

“Speaking of, is there somewhere you want to go? Or does her girlfriend always get to choose?” It hardly surprised you when the brunette took a seat beside you.

“Yeah I guess Yaz does choose mostly…The Doctor does favour her.” You said, thinking it to be a little funny. But he wasn’t laughing.

“You don’t say. She left you with a gaping wound for almost four days. Stupid woman.” Taking a deep breath, The Master relaxed himself before turning to you.

“So where would you pick?” A million and one ideas ran through your head.

“Maybe, a new planet. With a proper civilisation. I’d love to wonder around an alien city. Just to see how they live day to day. I think it’s a bit boring for The Doctors taste though.” You responded wholeheartedly. The Master watched you talk fondly, admiring the way your eyes seemed to light up at the idea.

“I think it sounds great. I’d definitely take you if I could. I know just the planet.” Your eyes shot to him, lips twitching upward.

“Maybe one day you can?” The look in your eye made The Masters hearts beat at an unusual pace. It was so bright and pure, how could The Doctor not see it?

“If you’d let me, I definitely will.”

“Of course I would! I trust you.” You stated, smiling widely. He swallowed thickly, feeling his chest swell. Was it, emotion? Good, happy emotions? Just then, The Doctor returned with Yaz. The latter of which seemed startled at how close you were to the new addition. She went to speak but The Doctor put her hand up.

“It’s fine Yaz. They’re just talking, it’s a good thing.”

You found that over the next couple of days, he tended to stay close to you. Not that you minded, you really enjoyed his company. It was so refreshing. The way that he would sit up with you in the library, reading and discussing random things. Or eating breakfast together. He even stayed at night sometimes until you fell asleep. Everything you were grateful for, it made you look forward to your next adventure.

———

And that’s how you found yourself, sat with Yaz and waiting for the aliens to return. The last step before he was allowed out. She had to make sure he was weapon free, and discuss his explosive habits. You just wanted him there for the company, getting fed up of being the third wheel.

“She’s really drilling him isn’t she?”

“Probably. It’s all she’s been doing.” You mumbled back, resting your head on a higher step.

“I suppose he deserves it after everything.” To that, you didn’t respond. You knew what she was saying, but at the same time you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He’d been so kind to you.

“Right gang!” The Doctors loud voice met your ears and you flinched. Looking up, you found that the pair had returned.

“All done. So we can be off.” She went to the console, getting ready to set a course. The Master slipped on his jacket, wandering round until he was stood by you.

“Yaz I overheard you say something about the sea. So I was thinking we could go to this water based planet. It’s filled with hundreds of fish aliens. Every two hundred years they hold a festival. We can go there.” The Doctor rambled, punching in some numbers before pulling some levers. Beside you, the man furrowed his brows, knowing full well which planet she meant.

“Aren’t they hostile to humanoids?” He remembered folding his arms. She just looked at him.

“Not if we behave. Didn’t think that would bother you.”

“I am trying you know.” He rolled his eyes, masking his true thoughts behind her plan. Soon enough, the tardis landed and The Doctor head out with Yaz in hand. You followed behind, coming out to find a busy street, so full it was almost overflowing. She wasn’t wrong, every person looked like some form of fish. One man even had a sharks head. There were decorations hung up, stalls and booths of party materials and gifts. Yaz gleamed, holding the blondes hand and kissing her cheek repeatedly.

“God they’re sickly. How do you put up with it?” The Master shivered, looking away from the women. You shrugged, looking around at all the streamers.

“I got used to it a long time ago.” There was a hint of sadness in your response that The Master didn’t miss. his hand found purchase on your lower back, rubbing it in comfort.

“At least you’re not alone now hm?” For a moment, you stared at him. But he was right, you really didn’t feel alone with him beside you. Slowly, you began to really smile and The Master felt proud.

“Let’s explore shall we, if I walk off I’m sure she’ll follow” He was correct, The Doctor scrambling to follow him as he head off down a street. It was kind of funny to watch as she scolded him within the first five minutes. The Master just stood there letting her rant.

“She has so much patience doesn’t she?” Yaz admired, a subtle glare being sent his way.

“I was thinking the same thing about him.” You admitted, making the girl gape at you. Giving her a shrug you spoke,

“Yaz he’s literally harmless right now. He’s got nothing. I know he’s a master manipulator but he said he’d try. So let’s just assume he’s telling the truth.” Yaz just sighed, choosing to stay quiet. It was clear she wasn’t on the same page but you didn’t mind.

“I won’t walk off again. I swear on both my hearts, just please stop kissing.” The Master argued with The Doctor, leaving her highly embarrassed. Yaz too was blushing now and you just laughed.

“Right. Whatever. Let’s just enjoy the festival ok?” The Doctor said, taking Yaz and starting to walk again. Snickering, The Master glanced over at you and held out his hand. Moving closer, you approached with a small smile.

“Are you sure? I know you’re really trying to fit in but you don’t have to hold my hand.” However, you really wanted him to do so but tried not to seem that way.

“I know I don’t. But I want to. How else will you keep up with us running?” He said in jest, reaching forward and taking your hand in his.

“Plus, if you’re here I can keep you safe.” Your cheeks flushed over, smiling shyly and linking your fingers securely. He chuckled, carefully pulling you along the road.

“How are they breathing?” You asked curiously, realising that the fish were too walking around dry land.

“Think like, turtles and wales. They can survive in both terrains. Like that but more complicated. Some have tanks on their heads. Some have air holes. Some have the ability to adapt.” He explained well, looking over some chrome shaded shells. They were very pretty, different shapes and sizes. Glancing around, The Doctor was nowhere in sight.

“You really expected her to follow her own instructions?” The Master dawdled, moving along to the next stall. Keeping close to him, you just huffed a little.

“Not really, but still. If you weren’t here then I’d have been left on my own remember.” His grip on you tightened, pulling you to his side.

“But I’m here now. And while I am, you’re not going to be on your own. Come on, let’s find her before she has another hissy fit.” He reassured before taking off to look for his fellow time lord. Meanwhile, you felt yourself blushing once again, grinning to yourself like an idiot.

You both looked for over thirty minutes, the girls were nowhere to be found. Also, you noticed some of the locals giving you less than pleasant looks.

“God this is ridiculous. I agreed to her silly little plan and she just vanishes. What is she doing?”

“I don’t think we want to know, Master.” You muttered, earning a surprise laugh from the man. He smiled down at you with a subtle warmth to his features.

“Very true. Let’s find a place to sit hm? I’ll figure something out.” Liking his idea, you followed him to a stall with a few seats outside. He pulled out a chair for you, taking a seat opposite.

“Don’t try any of the drinks. You’ll get sick.” The Master told you, resting his elbows on the table. It was getting busier, the alien sky growing dull. A man, or what you assumed to be a man, walked by with a grimace. A few others were staring over with disgust.

“Why are they looking at us like that?” Your voice was timid, trying to avoid any unwanted attention. He scoured the area, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

“Like I said, the creatures here do not like humanoids. It baffles me that she still proceeds to bring her companions to places like this.” Realising your discomfort, The Master placed his hand on your arm.

“Hey, just focus on me.” Trying to do as he said, you hummed and kept your eyes on him.

“What if they went back to the tardis?” You thought out loud. The Master pursed his lips ever so slightly.

“Maybe. But what would be the point of that?” For a while, the two of you sat there talking. Mostly it was you listening actually, but you didn’t care. You enjoyed his stories, his adventures, even if some were slightly deranged. Even so, you stayed invested the whole time. Furthermore, The Master loved how you engaged with him, asking questions repeatedly until you could understand better. He could hardly remember the last time someone spent so much time with him.

“Why can’t I have the drinks here?”

“Well because, some are made from worms. Some have toxins in them. Some would send you straight to sleep. And others would…” The Master trailed off, like he didn’t even want to finish what he was saying. You knew though.

“It could kill me huh?”

“Yeah. So let’s stay away from them ok?” He urged, his concern making you smile. Giving him a nod, it was almost comical watching him relax. The people around you were very loud. A mixture of high and low voices. Some arguing, some cheering. It was a little overstimulating but something you had grown to know. Scanning around, something caught ahold of The Masters attention. Something that made his eyes narrow darkly.

“I say we just head back to the tardis. The Doctor would rather me be there.” The Master decided, standing up suddenly. Before you could say anything, he helped you up and began walking back from where you had come. He sounded serious.

“Is everything ok? Did I do something?” Worried that you had bored the man, you rushed to keep up with him. He just looked down at you confused.

“No, not at all. I just figured it would be the best thing to do. The festivities are really kicking off and we’ll get caught up in it.” He was half honest, turning back and continuing down the path. The street lights came to life, the locals roaring in joy. All at once, hoards of people gathered in the street and started to follow a parade float down the way. None of them seemed to care for social awareness, shoulders pressed together and screaming at each other. Out of nowhere, a couple came barging into you, sending you tumbling back. When you looked up, The Master was gone from your view. You felt your heart drop and got yourself up quickly. There was no clear route back to the tardis, the way was blocked by the parade. Remaining calm, you swallowed thickly and began to tangle your way through the crowds. It was hot, sticky and you felt as though you could hardly breathe. Before long, a creature spotted you and used his pointed fin to practically smack you out of the way. Your side hit a jagged wall harshly.

“Get away earthling!” A few others laughed before carrying on with their celebrations. Blinking back tears of frustration, you stayed against the wall as you walked, trying to just blend in and get through the crowd.

“Excuse me.” A grainy voice caught your attention at the end of the first street. Just one more to go and you’d find the tardis. To your left was a small shop with an open window. Just outside stood a tall man, face resembling a hairy frogfish. It was grotesque looking too, as though he cared very little for his looks.

“You look worn out, care for a drink?” Turning back to the window, the man produced a glass of pink liquid. Bubbles formed at the stop of the glass, a fizz to it. Remembering The Masters words, you were quick to shake your head.

“No thank you.” Perhaps the creature didn’t know how it could affect you, but something was keeping you on high alert.

“No? You’re too good for my drink? Just because you’re human?” It stepped forward, eyes filled with anger.

“No it could kill me…” you tried to reason but the thing just laughed mockingly, putting the glass down with a thud.

“I must say. For a human, you’re very alluring. Different…” something that resembled a tongue slipped out past its lips. You suddenly felt very cold, moving backwards.

“I bet you’d do so well…” It saw you as a new thing to use and play with. In a second, he was in your face, a webbed hand gripping your face forcefully. The other dragged down your side and groping your hip so hard it hurt.

“So small as well. So frail. I could break you…” the smell of his breath, along with his disgusting words made you feel sick. Your stomach churned. In a moment of desperation, you brought your knee up to hit him right between the legs. The creature groaned in pain, releasing you from his hold. You wasted no time in turning and bolting through the street. Ignoring everyone, you barged through with no other thought in your head, just get away from him. You took a sharp turn into a side street, hunching against the wall and inhaling far too quickly.

Worried wasn’t the correct word. No. Right then, The Master felt concern he didn’t know he could even muster up. Going back to the tardis wasn’t even in his mind anymore. That stupid heard of fish that cut you off were lucky that he had no way to harm them. He just had to find you as soon as possible. But how? The place was packed out, making it hard to move. Even so, he pushed through and shouted out your name repeatedly. The locals were shouting back, trying to push him out but The Master just shoved them back. He really didn’t have time for them. It wasn’t safe for you to be alone. Growing more and more frustrated, he sauntered over to a stall and slammed his hand down on the table.

“Have you seen a young, human, female?” The darkness on his voice put the fish lady on edge. She gawked at him for a moment before nodding.

“Well yes actually. I saw one talking to the lovely man who owns the bar over there.” For once he was grateful the creature was talkative and turned to see the bar. He ran across, looking around everywhere. But you weren’t there, all he saw was a door slamming shut. Deciding to pay no notice, he carried on, coming to a slight dip in the pavement. The relief he felt in his hearts should have worried him, but that didn’t matter when he took a peek down a side street. You were sat against the wall, chest heaving as you tried to calm yourself. He could instantly see a scratch on your cheek and rushed to your side.

“(Y/n)?” You jumped in shock, but quickly settled down upon seeing him crouched beside you. More tears filled your (e/c) eyes, your breathing still erratic. Tentatively he placed his hands on your shoulders, bringing you closer.

“Breathe with me ok?” you nod, doing your best to follow his lead but you couldn’t stop yourself from being scared.

“(Y/n) you need to try-“

“No no he’s going to find me.” You cut in frantically, looking past him to see the end of the alley. The Master tensed up, hearing the fear in your voice.

“Who?”

“The- the man. He offered me a drink and I s-said no like you told me, but he g-got angry. He was touching my s-side and my face and-“ you took in a sharp breath, trying to collect yourself even a little. “-and he said I was..small and alluring. That I’d be good..that he could break me…” as tears spilled down your cheeks, The Master felt his blood boil. He was seething, wanting nothing more than to find that man and rip him in two. The idea of someone touching you almost made him snap.

“I’m going to kill him.” His teeth grit together as he went to stand.

“No please don’t leave me please!” You cried out in a panic, grabbing onto his hand desperately. The Master was grounded almost immediately, ducking back down and pulling you into his embrace. Winding your arms around his neck, you cried into his chest. He let out a breath, rubbing your back in effort to sooth your trembling figure.

“I’m not going anywhere I promise. Let’s get you back to the tardis ok? Get you warm and where I know that disgusting thing can’t get to you.” He spat the last part, easily lifting you and starting the short walk back to the ship. Though you didn’t say anything, you kept a firm hold on the man and he knew you were listening to him. Stepping inside the ship, it was vacant, which he was glad to see. Whatever The Doctor and Yaz were doing, wasn’t his priority. You were. He took you through the ship to a room you didn’t recognise. A bedroom. Reluctantly, The Master placed you down on the bed and took a step back. Seeing your exhausted face left a bitter taste in his mouth and he hated it.

“Is this your room?” You asked, looking around the dark room and taking it in. The sheets were soft, black plaid, the bed frame made of mahogany. Around the space there were matching drawers and a desk that had piles of books. On the back wall was a lit fireplace, giving the room a subtle glow. It was also quite neat.

“Yes. The Doctor let me have a say in it. Do you like it?” The Master knew you did, he could always read you so well. Nevertheless, you nod a bit, rubbing your face harshly.

“It’s cosy.” Disliking how down you sounded, he moving to quickly find you some fresh clothes. A pair of plush pyjamas were provided to him by the security ship. Leaving you to get changed, he made his way to the kitchen getting a glass of water and something small for you to eat. It didn’t take long and once he returned, he saw you sat back against the pillows.

“I brought you these.” Gazing up, you watched as he set the items on the table beside you gratefully.

“Thank you.” You sipped on the water, soothing your dry throat. After hanging his jacket up, The Master took his place next to you on the bed. You dropped your head onto his shoulder, nibbling on one of the biscuits he’d brought you.

“Thank you for finding me..and for carrying me. It won’t happen again.”

“Don’t apologise. I couldn’t just leave you.” The softness of his voice was nice, making you feel less like a nuisance.

“Is The Doctor still not here?” Placing the empty glass down, you looked at him to see his head shaking. You just wanted her to fly far away from there, but of course she was always preoccupied.

“I wanna leave.” You whispered, feeling ashamed for how much that short interaction had affected you. Lifting his hand, The Master wiped your cheeks dry tenderly.

“I know you do sweet girl, I’ll make sure we do as soon as she’s back.” That somewhat settled your anxiety, tiredness creeping in slowly. Almost shamefully, you looked at him longingly, wanting to feel that safety once again. It would be so needy, so pathetic. More to the point, why would he do something like that? Perhaps there was a chance, yet you felt as though it would make you seem even weaker. Did that really matter?

“Can I-“

“You don’t have to ask love.” Without question, The Master slipped an arm around you, bringing you to lay flush to his side. The way your whole body eased up was instant, head resting against his chest easily. You allowed your eyes to close, curling into the man the second he allowed it. Seeing you fall asleep in his arms, The Master knew he was already too far gone.

———

In a fit of laughter, The Doctor and Yaz returned to the tardis hours later. They were arm in arm, brightly coloured leis around their necks. The younger even had a funny looking hat sat on her head. Not expecting it, they were surprised to find The Master sat on the stairs. His hands were clasped together firmly, anger still apparent in his eyes. But The Doctor knew something was wrong.

“What happened?”

“After you two ran off? Nothing at first. Then there was an incident but it’s fine. We just need to leave here right now.” even though he sounded urgent, the girls were apprehensive. Yaz folded her arms.

“And why is that? We had fun out there.” It took everything inside of him for The Master to not lash out. Instead, he looked at her slowly before standing.

“Yes. You two had so much fun. You’ve been gone for six hours. You both just left. I said I would agree to your rules, Doctor. Yet you’re the one being careless?” He scoffed, coming to stand in front of them. She knew it was true and hung her head in shame.

“Fly away. Now.” For once, The Doctor actually listened to him and sent the ship away into orbit. Even though he had left you sound asleep, The Master yearned to rush right back.

“What happened? Why are you so worked up?” Yaz was obviously confused, leaning back against the console. Only then did The Doctor realise something, her eyes shooting around.

“Where’s (y/n)?”

“Asleep. She’s asleep, let her rest.” He replied sternly.

“What happened to her?” The Doctor asked impatiently, now completely alert. Yet all the man did was glare.

“So now you care huh? You left her alone with me, when I’m supposed to be here to learn from you. You’re lucky I li-“ stopping himself from saying too much, The Master took in a deep breath and cracked his neck.

“One of the locals didn’t act too kindly towards her, let’s just say that. But I brought her back here. She’s not hurt. She’s fine now.” The Doctor let out a sigh of relief hearing this, putting her hands together almost in a prayer.

“Thank you.”

“Yes well, I said I’d follow your rules and regulations..” brushing it off, The Master just shrugged. Seeing right through this, the blonde gave a shallow smile.

“You’d have done that regardless.” She pointed out, lifting herself to sit on the console. Yaz, still confused, looked between the pair. Accepting defeat, The Master groaned and let his head hit the pillar behind him.

“Only for her. Not so sure about your little pet.” This comment set Yaz off, he could sense her outburst coming a mile away.

“I’m her girlfriend!”

“My condolences.” The Master said to her sadly, leaving the girl practically steaming. Before she could retaliate, The Doctor took hold of her hand.

“Ok, relax everyone. What’s important is that everyone is okay. I admit, I was careless today and in future I won’t do that.” The pair made eye contact, he could see the remorse there and decided to let it go for now. Moving away from the pillar, the master moved towards the steps again.

“I’m heading back to my room, don’t be up all night kids.” For the first time, something he said made Yaz laugh. Simpering, The Doctor nod.

“Look after her.”

“You know I will.” With his signature grin, The Master left to his room once more. You were still asleep thankfully, making it easy for him to slip in beside you. Instinctively, you shuffled closer and wrapped yourself around the timelord. He reciprocated this, holding you close and closing his eyes too.

———

Waking up in his arms the first time was an experience. Shocking you so much that you fell out of his bed. You were also so apologetic, saying sorry so much that The Master told you he was going to remove the word from your memory. Eventually, you came to realise that he really didn’t seem to mind. So, you began to let yourself indulge in that. Seeing how much you could get away with. It started small, with continuing to hold his hand when you went out on your adventures. The Master was easily ticked off, getting irked over the tiniest thing. Especially people with bad manners and attitude. Once, whilst he was telling you about the time he blew up an ancient sun god, you cut in with a very dry, sarcastic comment. “Wow, you actually do have plans that work out then?” You said, smiling mischievously. Thinking it would get you shouted at, you blushed when the man just gave you a firm look. Anyone else, he would have put them in there place. But not you. Then you began to spend even more time with him on the tardis. He even read you that book that he mentioned. You were so happy and it was obvious to everyone around you. Especially The Doctor. At first, it made her anxious. She thought that he had manipulated you, maybe even hypnotised you into being his loyal, little human. That was until she caught sight of the two of you in the library.

“So to chart the stars in a more..easy way you can-“

“Are you saying I’m dumb?” You pouted, not letting him finish. Sitting snug to his side, your legs were over his lap. The Master was wearing his round glasses, one hand on your thigh, the other holding a small sky chart.

“No, I’m just saying you have to learn. It’s a very precise job. In your time even your top astrophysicists can only do the bare minimum. I’m going to teach you properly.” He chuckled before continuing with his demonstration, your focus fully on him. From the door, The Doctor felt hope in her hearts, seeing her childhood friend seem so at peace. She knew she could trust him to look after you.

———

“See you both on Friday!” The Doctor gave Yaz a hug and kiss, before waving you off as well. You looked around for a second before saying goodbye and heading out with Yaz. Every so often you’d both return home for a week, to see family and such. You didn’t really want to go but you did regardless. The Doctor flicked a few levers before walking into The Masters room. He was sat at his desk, papers surrounding him as he inked up a journal.

“I see you still have that unnecessarily neat handwriting then?”

“You say unnecessary. I say, precise. Unlike you I can re-read my notes without having to squint.” He shot back, not looking up from his work. She just hummed, coming to lean on the wall by the desk.

“You didn’t say goodbye.” The Doctor pointed out, noticing the way he paused for a second.

“Well they’ll be back so, there was no need.”

“I think (y/n) wanted to say bye to you though.” He didn’t say anything, just continued to write down whatever it was that had his attention. Sticking out her bottom lip in thought, the doc sighed a little.

“She looked for you.” That made him stop. Sitting straight, he looked up at her with an unreadable expression.

“She did?” He asked, putting his quill down on its cushion. Nodding, she pushed some things aside and perched on the edge of his desk.

“I notice that you’ve become quite close.” Again he remained silent, just looking at her blankly.

“It’s good. It’s good to see you have a real friend.”

“We’re not friends.” He scoffed, dismissing the idea poorly.

“Yes you are, but you want it to be more.” The Doctor called him out, earning a look of surprise from the man.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The Master uttered, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back in his chair.

“Yes you do. You know it’s okay to feel that way right?” Letting out a huff of irritation, he just shook his head and retorted.

“I don’t feel any sort of way, Doctor. I’m here to ‘learn’ from you. To follow you around and stick to your silly plan whilst you try and fix me.” It almost amused her, how much denial he was in. But after thousands of years, she knew him all too well.

“Last time I checked, my suggestions didn’t involve reading stories and studying. Or cuddling in the library. It definitely didn’t involve sleeping in the same bed.” That effectively left him speechless, casting his eyes down to the desk bitterly.

“So you can sit here and say you’re just doing all that because of me. Or because it’s some ploy to get out of here faster. But we both know that’s a lie.” The Doctor concluded, drumming her fingers against the surface below her. Closing his eyes, The Master inhaled before returning to look at her.

“Fine, you got me. I didn’t think it would ever turn out like this. Makes me feel strange.”

“You mean happy?” The Doctor laughed, watching her old friend falter slightly.

“I suppose. It’s nice to have someone there, someone who really wants to spend time with me. She’s the first person in a long time to do that of her own free will.” He admitted, rubbing his eyes as he spoke. It was the sad truth.

“That’s good.”

“No it isn’t. I’ll just end up hurting her.” He spat, clenching his fists as that doubt crept over him. The Doctor simply shook her head.

“No you won’t. These past few months you’ve done everything you can to make her happy, to keep her safe. You never let her out of your sight.” It was true, he knew that. Though, deep down he felt that fear, like it just wasn’t enough.

“I know. But still, what if it’s not enough?”

“Don’t think that way. (Y/n) is really attached to you, and you have the biggest soft spot for her. If you’re both happy, then that’s all that matters.” The Doctor told him earnestly, placing a hand on his shoulder. For once, he didn’t shove her off. But could he allow himself to have this?

“I can’t believe I’m talking to you about this.” He half laughed, getting up and walking across to his bed before sitting on it. Grinning, The Doctor stole his office chair, wheeling it over to the bed and sitting in front of him.

“No it’s fun, exploring your inner emotions and your love life.” Her giddiness made him cringe.

“Ok. Never call it that again.” He grimaced, making The Doctor cackle even more.

“Didn’t know you had a thing for teddy bears.” Now just confused, he looked around until he spotted the fluffy bear sat on his pillow. Rolling his eyes, he reached over and picked it up.

“(Y/n) brought it in here last night. She must have left it by accident…” he snickered, looking at the toy fondly before continuing.

“You know she has clothes for it? Like a whole wardrobe, just for the bear.” The Doctor watched him, lips upturned. Guilt began to creep up on him, for being so wrapped up in his own mind.

“I should have said goodbye…”

“Yeah. But it’s okay, she’ll be back in a few days.” The Doctor reassured him. He never wanted time to pass faster.

———

Friday rolled around, The Doctor had parked the tardis in its usual spot and left the doors unlocked. She busied herself around the console, tinkering with a few loose wires.

“Can you pass me a clamp?” Holding her hand out, The Master moved around and gave it to her. She knew he was getting impatient.

“I can hear your brain ticking from here. Relax a bit.”

“Why is it taking so long?” The Mastee grumbled, staring at the doors.

“They’ll be here s-“ just then, Yaz burst through the doors.

“I’m back!” She yelled enthusiastically, running over hugging the blonde woman from behind. Laughing, The Doctor turned and hugged her back, listening to the events of the past few days. With a roll of his eyes, The Master sighed and leant against the console bored. Now he knew how you must have felt all that time.

“God if you two continue to smack your lips together I’ll throttle you both.” He threatened, rubbing his temples.

“Awe do you feel left out?” Yaz joked, hanging from her girlfriend’s arm.

“From you two? Absolutely not. How revolting.” Both girls laughed at his disgust, moving away from each other.

“Go snog in your room, just not in front of me.”

“Can I trust you to fix that circuit?” The doc picked up Yaz’s bag from the floor, looking at the man across the room.

“Obviously. I’ll do a better job and you know it.” He deadpanned, earning an angry look in response. However Yaz was quick to pull her away and leave him to finish her work.

———

You were only slightly late, well almost an hour. But your bus to Sheffield had been delayed so there was nothing you could have done. Thankfully, you found the tardis where it always was and head straight for the doors. Inside, you were met with a soft clinking sound. After walking forwards quietly, you came to see The Master hunched over the console, linking up two wires with clear skill. You’d never seen him working like that before, it was interesting. He was so engrossed in his task, sleeves rolled up and brows furrowed. Taking a piece of metal, he used a small machine to solder it in place and close up the circuit. Wiping off his hands, The Master stood straight and his eyes met yours. You broke out into a smile, rushing over and throwing your arms around his neck. Taken aback, The Master stood frozen for a moment, not expecting that at all.

“How long have you been there?” He pondered, coming to secure his arms around your middle. You hugged the man closely, letting out a small laugh.

“Not long, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“I wouldn’t have minded.” He sighed, wondering how he’d get you past the point of caring about that. Still, you stood in his arms content, speaking again once a few seconds had passed.

“I missed you…” hearing this, The Master felt the beats in his chest working overtime. He tightened his grip on you, not knowing how to respond to that. Though, he felt exactly the same way.

“I missed you too.” Even though he said it quietly, you heard, looking up and smiling happily.

“You’re blushing.”

“I don’t blush.” He scoffed, avoiding eye contact and suddenly feeling very warm.

“I dunno, your hearts are beating very fast.” You placed your hand against his chest, proving your point further. Although he loved your rare confidence, he couldn’t let you get away with too much. Taking hold of your hand, The Master easily manoeuvred you away from him.

“Oh, are they?” He tilted his head, stepping closer and closer until you were pinned between him and the console. Dipping to your level, he leaned in, his cool breath hitting your face. Your eyes were locked together, heat creeping up onto your cheeks. Shamefully, your eyes flickered to his lips before looking back up. He noticed, a smirk appearing.

“You’re blushing.” He teased, letting go of your hand and placing his own on your waist. You couldn’t speak, your words coming out in a jumble, and that pleased him. He loved to see the effect he had on you, it was thrilling. Noticing the hopeful look on your face, he placed a tender kiss to the top of your head. Stepping away he tucked his hands away into his pockets with a proud smile. You stood frozen, hands gripping the edge of the console. Footsteps could be heard approaching, The Master giving you a smug smile before moving to the other side of the console.

“Ah hello (y/n)…are you okay? You look a bit flustered.” The Doctor pressed her hand to your head in deep concern.

“I’m fine, just warm in here…” you lied, giving her a half smile and trying to collect yourself. Both girls were unconvinced, but you just tried to seem relaxed. Shaking her head, The Doctor walked around punching some coordinates into the console.

“So me and Yaz will be off now.” Snapping out of your daze, you followed her movements confused. Noticing this, she let out a noise of annoyance.

“Did you not tell her? I said to tell her when she came in!” Exasperated, the doc scowled at The Master, though she really should have expected it.

“Must have slipped my mind, I was distracted.” He lied, giving you a wink that went unnoticed by the others.

“Anyway. I’m taking Yaz to a spa for the day, after our last attempt failed. Is that okay with you?” The Doctor was going regardless, but a verbal confirmation would make her feel better.

“Yeah of course. Go enjoy your date.” Before they left, The Doctor gave her usual speech about making sure The Master behaved himself.

“You have my word Doctor. I won’t do anything you wouldn’t.” Holding his hands up, she felt secure enough with his answer and guided Yaz out of the ship. Now alone with him once again, you grew jittery. You were so close just moments ago, so close. You knew how you felt for him long ago, but over the months it had grown tenfold. A part of you also longed to go out into the universe with him. Just like Yaz got to experience with The Doctor. Sadly, wondered if what he did before was merely for his own entertainment. With your head telling you it was a game, and your heart saying he really cared, which could you trust?

“What are you thinking about, love?” The Master slowly made his way back round to you, stoping a few inches away.

“I just, wish we could go somewhere fun.” Being somewhat truthful, you lifted your shoulders slightly.

“Well, why can’t we?” This response took you by surprise.

“Because your tardis is locked away somewhere.”

“Who said anything about using my tardis?” He chuckled, brushing some hair out of your face whilst you tried hard not to blush.

“She really shouldn’t have left me to fix her console. It’s very easy to remove a DNA lock.” Giving your nose a little boop, you laughed quietly at his cockiness.

“So, what do you say?”

“What if The Doctor finds out?” You pointed out, so close to giving into the temptation he was offering.

“Come on dear, you know I’m better than that. She’ll never know.” Not even needing to hear that, it convinced you even more and you nod quickly. The Master grinned wickedly, spinning on his heel and beginning to expertly pilot the tardis. You watched excitedly, noticing how steady the ship was whilst in flight. Although great, The Doctor did have a hard time keeping in control.

“Where are we going?” Going to his side, he simply smiled down at you before the ship settled once again.

“Take a look.” He nod towards the door, your chest fluttering with anticipation. It was like doing this for the first time all over again. Pulling on the double doors, your eyes went wide at the scene in front of you. The first thing that caught your attention were the purple bricks that outlined a mechanical road. Tall, grey creatures were walking along, with black robes and oblong heads, their hooved feet carried them into several buildings in the area. Speaking of, the area was filled with hundreds of brightly colour skyscrapers, a mixture of slates, teal and sapphire shades. More to the point, there was actual flying cars, something you thought you’d never get to see. They moved in conjunction, keeping your attention for longer than necessary, watching how they’d ascend and descend whenever needed. Slowly, you let go of the door and stepped out into the new world. It was warm as well, not a cloud to be seen in the mauve sky. From behind, The Master followed you, making sure he locked the door. He didn’t want any trace of what he was doing for The Doctor to find, and a stolen tardis would definitely be a sign. The look of pure joy on your face made his hearts feel complete, as he came to stand beside you.

“Do you like it?” In all honestly, it was perfect, exactly what you’d always wanted to see. Instead of giving a verbal response, you rotated and hugged The Master. He beamed, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you from the ground with ease.

“Thank you, thank you. It’s amazing!” You told him, kicking your legs up behind you just before he could set you down. He pulled away, leaving his hands on your waist.

“I told you I knew the place.” You had a twinkle in your eye, realising he remembered that conversation. Taking your hand, The Master began to walk down the road until you stopped him.

“Are we safe?” It felt safe, everything felt very normal, though you’d had one too many incidents before.

“You think I’d take you somewhere that wasn’t safe? I’m not The Doctor.” He almost seemed offended, making you squeeze his hand tighter.

“I picked a date and time I’m a thousand percent sure nothing will happen. I triple checked.” This revelation nearly caused heart palpitations, she had never done that before. Tucking yourself into his side, The Master felt just how grateful you were and wrapped his arm around you. With another kiss left on the crown of your head, the two of you walked along the street as the steel cars soared overhead.

———

You genuinely couldn’t remember a time you felt happier. Even after a hundred trips with The Doctor, this one topped them all. The Master was taking you to every single place that caught your eye, peaked his interest or knew that you’d love.

“Oh there’s something else, over here.” Fingers laced together, The Master tugged you over to a smaller building with a metal veranda. He spoke to the towering alien, handing over a few small credits before receiving a cone in return. You both stood in the shade, keeping out of the way as to not bother anyone.

“What is it?” Looking into the cone, you saw little, dusted spheres. They did look intriguing.

“Sort of like a truffle. But with ice cream in the middle.” Using the spiked fork, he held one up to your lips, allowing you to eat one easily. It had a different taste to the ones from earth, sweeter and softer in texture too. It was evident that you were enjoying them, letting The Master feed you some more. On the other hand, he felt as though he was in a trance. You were just eating. You weren’t doing anything special or extraordinary. Yet he just couldn’t help himself. Lifting his hand, The Master swiped his thumb under your bottom lip, removing a dot of cream. Freezing, you blushed and gazed up at him with big eyes, which certainly wasn’t helping his conundrum. His hand lingered there for longer than neeeded, brown eyes wandering over your face shamelessly. He cleared his throat and tossed the his empty cone into the bin near the shop.

“Come on, I have one more thing to show you.” The Master sounded different than normal, more mellow if that made any sense. Still, you went with him blindly, walking through the quiet streets and admiring the architecture.

It didn’t take long for The Master to find what he was looking for and, after a brief walk, you gasped at the sight in front of you. Just below a pier, there was a glistening lake overshadowed by ancient trees. They grew ebony leaves, with white bark that looked so vibrant. Letting go of his hand, you rushed over to the stone balustrade, leaning over to see the pearlescent water better. It reflected of the sky, giving the surface a lilac glow. Amused by your fervour, The Master approached you with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Stunning, isn’t it? The bottom of the lake is lined with diamonds, they run below the surface of this entire planet. It’s how they got their fortune.” He explained, resting his arms on the stone wall and looking out at the view. And it was a good one, the landscape could occupy your mind for a while. But something else had it for now.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you for showing me this. Thank you for the whole day. I won’t forget it…” there was a twinge of sadness in your thanks, thinking it would be the first and last trip of its kind. The Master didn’t look at you, a tension in his brow. He was never good at comforting, or being completely honest. Around you, however, that side of him did tend to show itself more.

“I know The Doctor takes me to amazing places, and I’m so thankful but, it’s not like this. She’s spontaneous in the best way, and so lovely but-“ you frowned, unsure of how to finish what you were saying. To be honest, there was so much you felt you couldn’t say as it would ruin the day. Silence settled between you both, nothing but the ripples in the lake, and distant alien chattering could be heard. You were deep in thought, that much was clear, but he would never invade your privacy to find out what it was about. A question weighed heavy on his mind, one that he’d been mulling over for a long time.

“Would you come with me?” There was an unmissable tremor in his voice, breaking the silence and your train of thought. Slowly, you turned your head to look at him, finding that he was still unmoved.

“One day, if I pass The Doctors stupid test and she thinks I’m ’good enough’, will you travel with me?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation, your mind had been made a long time ago. The Master had his eyes on you in an instant.

“I’d love to go with you.” You smiled, telling him everything he needed to know. You weren’t lying, there was no malice anywhere. No more needed to be said. Instead, he moved closer, hands coming up to cup your cheeks.

“You really mean it?” His guard was completely down, letting his forehead rest against your own as he asked.

“Of course I do, I want more times like this. More of you…” You concluded in a whisper, as The Master trailed his left hand down the side of your neck. The corner of his lip twitched upwards, the confidence you knew all too well finally returning.

“You have me.” With that bold statement, he closed the gap and pressed his lips against yours, capturing you in a sweet kiss. A raging blush claimed your cheeks, moving your arms around his neck and drawing him in closer. It was as if the last piece of a puzzle was fitting together. Reluctantly, he pulled back, taking in your flushed appearance with pride.

“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been, keeping myself off of you?” The Master laughed at his own internal battle, thumbing your waist gently.

“Why did you? You could have kissed me earlier.” Your heart was hammering in your chest, liking that you’d both been feeling exactly the same.

“When I knew The Doctor could interrupt at any moment? No, I didn’t want her ruining anything.” Your fingers toyed with the hair at the base of his neck as he spoke, sending a small shiver down his spine.

“When did you become so considerate?”

“For you? A long time ago, love.” The Master pressed your back to the wall you were both once leaning against, his nose bumping against yours.

“Did you not realise, how I’ve been treating you? Did you never notice how conveniently safe you were when I was there? Don’t you understand, you’re the only reason I agreed to The Doctors mindless plan?” Your breath hitched at this admission, taking everything in.

“I knew you kept me in the clear but…you stayed, because of me?”

“Of course I did. Spending time with you is worth The Doctors incessant rambling. It was the only way I knew I could be with you, without anyone noticing.” The Master was so close, his lips brushing yours with every word he said. Once more, you blushed brightly, loving the flattery he was supplying.

“Honestly? I would have jumped at the chance..I’m glad you did stay.”

“And I’m glad you were bold enough to check on me, were you so worried?” Cocking his head to the side, The Master traced over your lips, and down until he was gripping your jaw with intent.

“Of course I was, I thought you were going to die. I hated seeing what you did to yourself.” It was hard to talk about that day, everyone was hurt, especially him. Seeing him laying there, under that rock, you thought you’d lost him before you even had a chance. A stray tear rolled down your cheek before you could stop it, however the man just left a kiss in its wake.

“Don’t cry pet, I’m fine, I’m still here.” You couldn’t help yourself anymore, pulling him down until your lips met again. The kiss was deeper this time, an outpouring of emotions that had been hidden for too long. His tongue pressed against yours, dragging out a guttural wine. The Master revealed in the sound, caressing the curve of your waist and dragging his hand lower. You were grateful for the lack of people in the area. Your hands moved to grip his arms and your lungs began to burn but you didn’t care. Parting from your lips, The Master left a trail of kisses along your jaw lovingly, then he moved back a bit.

“Have I mentioned how cute you look, so flustered?” He smirked, pecking your lips once more then finally letting go. You just avoided his eyes, finding the ground far more interesting.

“The Doctor might kill you if she finds out you know?” He just rolled his eyes when you said that, grasping your hand once again.

“Well she doesn’t have to know quite yet, does she?” Giving you a playful look, The master made sure you stayed by him as you both began walking again.

“You’re lucky I’m a good liar. She really wouldn’t approve.”

“Oh but I thought you wanted me to stay as long as possible?” He feigned sadness, causing you to giggle at his big eyes. You wrapped your arms around his middle whilst approaching the tardis, he made no complaints. Apart from the fact that neither of you actually wanted to go back, that is.

———

The Doctor and Yaz reappeared around five hours after The Master had got you both back. You were impressed with how precise he was, but why were you surprised? When they came in, neither of you were actually in the console room.

“What do you think they did all day?” Yaz asked, following The Doctor around as she piloted.

“I’d imagine reading or something?” The blonde shrugged, not paying it much thought.

“You don’t think he’d try to escape? Or what if he hurt (y/n)?” She exclaimed, earning a snort of laughter from her partner.

“I highly doubt that.”

“Why? After everything he’s done! He’s a monster.” Yaz came to stand directly in front The Doctor, clearly anxious. Sighing, The Doctor rubbed her arms.

“People change. Give him a chance.”

“I don’t know how you can say that when…” Yaz carried on with herself, listing multiple reasons of why she hated the man, and why he wasn’t worth the effort. Up the first flight of steps, The Master stood around the corner, listening to it all. A continuous reminder of his past and all the wrong he’d done.

“Don’t listen to her.” Your voice startled him, you hadn’t been there earlier. Instead of replying, he kept his ear towards the women talking. He wasn’t one to be offended by these things. No, he was more concerned about how you saw him. The Doctor could be very convincing, maybe even Yaz could get into your head. Suddenly, you stepped forward and tilted his head back to look at you. Knowing he was going to speak, you leant up and kissed him softly, keeping him quiet. Taken by surprise, The Master shamefully melted into you, holding your shoulders for support.

“Don’t listen.” You repeated once you pulled back, giving him a smile then walking down the steps.

“(Y/n), have a good day?” The Doctor grinned once she saw you. Giving a small shrug, you lied,

“It was okay.” Even though it was the best day you’d had in years. Frowning, Yaz went closer to you.

“But are you okay?” It was as if she was checking over you.

“And why would I not be okay?”

“Being alone with him?” She said like it was common sense. Giving her a slight glare, you nod.

“I’m fine, Yaz.” Your response was sharp, making the girl huff and look to The Doctor. She just pressed her lips together, unsure how she’d get her girlfriend to relax a bit. But she knew it was something that desperately needed work, especially if she wanted this attempt of therapy to work.

———

Their dates became more and more regular, which was fine by you. The more they were gone, the more you got to do with The Master. Each trip got more thrilling than the last. From seeing supernovas to ancient earth, you were counting the days until you could leave with him. Meanwhile, Yaz was just happy to be away from The Master. Her mind couldn’t be changed, she just couldn’t trust him.

———

One day, as Yaz sat at a candle lit dinner with The Doctor, she put down her menu and looked at her. Sensing some unwarranted anxiety, The Doctor looked back at her confused.

“When is he going to leave?”

“Why would he leave, I haven’t finished with my sessions yet?” Confused, the doc poured herself a glass of water.

“Because, I think he’s hypnotised (y/n).” Her statement made The Doctor freeze up a little. She knew that Yaz noticed your closeness to the man.

“Yaz, I think they just get along well. I’d be able to tell if he was using hypnosis.” The Doctor tried to put her mind at rest, but it was fruitless.

“There’s no way she’d choose to be close with him after all he did to us. To you!” It was annoying Yaz, how rejected her lover was being about the whole situation.

“As I said, people can change. He’s made good process you know? He really is trying, try to consider that they’re friends?” With that suggestion, The Doctor picked up her glass and took a sip of her water.

“Friends? I wouldn’t be surprised if they were getting it on back in the tardis.” Yaz scoffed, The Doctor almost choking on her drink. Coughing it down, she looked over at Yaz baffled.

“Okay, I don’t think that’s what’s going on. I also don’t ever want to imagine that going on in my ship.” The Doctor denied, shivering at the idea. However, she really wasn’t stupid and knew that she had to keep lying to Yaz. Just until she brightened up a bit more. If she did at all.

“Well I’m just saying, they’re a bit too close lately.”

The master buttoned up his shirt, fixing the cuffs with little care. You rolled your eyes, making sure his collar was straight.

“It’s like you want us to get caught.”

“That would be thrilling.” He chuckled, mocking your previous escapades and moving closer to you. You just laughed, hitting his chest gently before sinking down into the floor. Your back rested on the couch as you sat between his legs. Placing a hand on the base of your neck, The Master worked out a deep knot you had there.

“Achey?” He teased.

“Shut up.” You were quick to retaliate but just groaned as the tension left your neck. The male merely smiled, happy to help.

“I can hear them now you know, flirting. Disgusting.” His lip curled in distaste, making you laugh out. Resting your head on his thigh, you gazed up at the man with big eyes.

“That’s very hypocritical you know.” You said, earning a raised brow from him. The Master just leaned forward, placing a soft kiss to your lips.

“I know.” You really did love how brutally honest he was, especially when it came to the other love birds. Speaking of, he pulled away very quickly and seconds later the door opened. You busied yourself with a random book that was discarded by the fireplace. Behind you, The Master picked up with his work, as if he had a whole new energy about him.

“Ah there you two are! See Yaz? Everything is fine.” The doctor beamed, sitting herself beside the man on the couch. Yaz didn’t say anything, just looking between you both with reservation. In all fairness, you were testing the waters by sitting in that position.

“Good to see that you’re actually keeping out of trouble.” The Doctor nudged him on the shoulder, yet he never strayed from his papers.

“Of course, how could we ever get into trouble. She’s very well behaved.” The Master moved one hand, patting your head in a patronising manner.

“I think she was just referring to you, Master.” You told him, shutting the book and leaving it by your side.

“Well I know, (y/n) wouldn’t do anything out of pocket would she?” If only she knew, you thought after The Doctor spoke.

“Wow you’re writing fast, have you had a triple shot of coffee or something?” Yaz watched him stunned, seeing how quickly his hand was moving.

“Hm? Oh no, not coffee.”

“Did you eat something then? Like chocolate, that’s got a lot of sugar.” The Doctor added, agreeing with Yaz’s observation.

“Not chocolate, but I did have something sweet yes.” He stated simply, a smugness hidden in his tone. You had to bite your tongue, suddenly feeling very embarrassed.

“Got any to share? I am pecki-“

“No.” He snapped, not allowing his fellow Timelord to finish what she was saying. Everyone looked at him, them with confusion and you with amusement.

“Don’t be so greedy.” It was as if Yaz jumped at the chance to be annoyed with him. Stopping his writing, The Master slowly peered up at the woman with vexation.

“I can be whatever I want to be.”

“Ok, ok no fighting please.” The Doctor almost begged, clearly finding it hard to deal with them butting heads.

“We wanted to talk to you both, what should we do tomorrow?” She put the question to the pair of you.

“Oh we get a say do we, I thought only your precious angel got to choose?” The Master quipped.

“Don’t start that. Come on.” The Doctor shot back before a full on shouting match could start. Letting out a heavy sigh, he sat straight and put his hand onto your shoulder.

“Why don’t you pick?” You felt as though as though he was gripping into you to ground himself more than anything else.

“Oh so you want your favourite to pick instead huh?” The Doctor probed, earning a dirty look from her girlfriend.

“Well of course.” His eyes found Yaz when he responded, clearly trying to egg her on more.

“As if she’d ever want to be your-“

“A party.” You voiced your pick loudly, hoping to keep the situation calm. Smiling, The Doctor leant forward to see you better.

“Yeah? What kind?”

“A cocktail party, like a nice, classy one where you have to put a bit of effort into how you look. Is that okay?” You looked around nervously, hoping your idea wasn’t too mundane.

“I think it’s a fantastic idea! Oh and I know just the place!” The Doctor genuinely seemed very pleased with your choice, a large grin etched into her features. She began to ramble about the planet in question, about the fancy parties the richer portion of the place hosted. Still, Yaz was only engrossed in how close you were to The Master, how his hand hadn’t left your shoulder. Then, her eye caught onto something and she gasped in pure horror.

“Yaz? Are you okay?” The Doctor enquired, not liking that she looked so unsettled.

“I didn’t know you got hurt so badly the other day?” Upset clear in her inflection, she crouched down next to you and reached towards your free shoulder. Upon looking, you found that your sleeve had fallen off, leaving a dark bruise of full display. Coyly, you pulled the material over it and tittered slightly.

“Apparently I did yeah, must be from when I fell.” You bluffed, pretending it really was sore. It wasn’t a complete lie, on your last outing at a group, you had fallen down a couple of stairs.

“Poor thing, aren’t you?” The Master said in false pity, giving you those big, sad eyes. Unable to speak, you suddenly felt as though everyone was staring at you and just turned back to the fire. He had an irritating smile on his lips, returning to his work as a way to deflect. Yaz was still fussing over you, thinking that you may be in pain or need something for it. Having said that, The Doctor watched your discomposed behaviour, the redness in your cheeks and shifty eyes. She then looked at the man next to her, his overtly windless demeanour and self-satisfied expression. It was as if everything clicked into place and the realisation hit her square in the face. Mouth agape, a million thoughts ran through her mind. Feeling her eyes gawking at him, The Master muttered underneath his breath,

“You’ll catch flies if you’re not careful.”

“And you’ll have to catch Yaz’s hands if you’re not careful.” Speaking through gritted teeth, The Doctor brought a muffled laugh from the man. He closed up his notebook and looked at her. She really didn’t know what to do at the revelation, he knew that and smirked. They couldn’t speak about it in front of you or Yaz, so she stayed silent, putting a pin in the matter. It wasn’t that she was worried per-say, it was just unexpected and new.

“Honestly Yaz, I’m okay.”

“But it looks bad.” As sweet as it was, you didn’t appreciate the unneeded ego boost The Master was getting.

“She’s fine Yaz, come on.” Standing up, The Doctor pulled the young woman up to her feet.

“See you tomorrow!” Perplexed, you watched as The Doctor practically dragged Yaz out.

“She seemed very concerned, love.” The Master droned out in levity, making you turn round fast. Getting up, you practically pounced on him, only to be caught instantly.

“I’m going to kill you.” You said with fake fury, even though you were the one being held at the waist.

“I look forward to it.”

———

In the depths of the tardis, you rifled through the many wardrobes that The Doctor had. Each were filled with unique articles from all times, planets and periods you could imagine.

“What about this?” Yaz asked, holding up a mid length, tight, red velvet dress.

“Oh yeah that will look great on you!” You smiled, urging her to choose it. Yaz walked over to you with it in hand, trying to help you decide. But you were being picky.

“Come on, (y/n). Who are you trying to impress? Anything will look good if you’re wearing it.” She laughed, leaving you alone to decide.

Back in your room, you took your time getting ready, doing your makeup and hair with great care. It was rare you got to go to anything labeled as fancy, so you wanted to savour it. After successfully zipping up the dress, you straightened it out and looked in the mirror. It was black satin, off the shoulder and figure hugging. The boning lined your body perfectly, going down your middle and around the bust. Coming to just above your mid thigh, you paired the dress with some chunky black heels before deciding you were ready.

When you got to the console room, you found that everyone was already there.

“Sorry, was I holding everyone up?” You questioned anxiously, standing by the mechanism. The Doctor shook her head, looking dapper in her tux as usual.

“Not at all. We’re nearly there.” She let you know kindly. Yaz definitely chose the correct dress, having now tied her hair into a bun, it really suited her.

“Where are we going anyway?”

“SinCeria. A planet adorned with six, silver moons that rise every six-hundred years. They hold a week long celebration for it and on the last day, you get to see the event.” The Master answered you, slowly making his way to you. He was dressed in an ox-blood coloured waistcoat, sporting his favourite pocket watch and black suit pants. The sleeves of his ebony shirt were neatly rolled up to his elbows, hands away in his pockets. You blinked rapidly, trying not to make your interest obvious. The Master was anything but discreet however, clearly ogling you with no guilt. You felt small under his gaze, but in the most flattering way.

“And presto!” The Doctor yelled as the ship landed with a thud, sending you tumbling. Of course, you were securely caught by The Master, his hands holding just under your arms.

“Shall we head then? I’m well excited for this.” The Doc grabbed hold of Yaz’s hand, taking her out and holding the door open. You quickly followed, whilst he kept a possessive hand on your side. After exiting the cleaning cupboard the time lady had parked in, you found yourselves in a long, extravagant hallway. It was lined with gold architrave against ivory walls and a soft, noir carpet. Each alcove held a hologram, a collection of creatures in a prestigious uniform.

“They’re the former kings of this planet.” The Master told you, noticing your curiosity.

“They look like geckos.” You smiled, thinking that you looked quite sweet. At the end of the corridor were two of said alien, clearly guarding the entrance door. With a quick flash of her psychic paper, The Doctor gained entry for the four of you and the doors were pushed open.

“Oh wow..” Yaz breathed once seeing the interior. It truly was breathtaking, with high arching ceilings being lit up by crystal chandeliers. In the middle of the grand room there was a dance floor, donning black and white checked tiles. Around that, were round, glass tables fitted with matching chairs. The centre of them held an elaborate, champagne shade candelabra, flickering away. Looking around, you saw a bar on the left side of the room with a few smaller tables and people mingling. It wasn’t too busy, the evening only just having started. A band were playing adjacent to the bar, a gentle tune to ease people in whilst guests were still arriving.

“Happy?” The Doctor looked at you hopefully. Grinning, you reached over and hugged your friend close.

“Yes it’s exactly what I meant, thank you.” She just chortled, rubbing your back then letting go. Beginning to explain the usual itinerary of the party, no one noticed the clear irritation of the man behind you.

“-so in about ten minutes, things will really pick up, won’t they?” The Doctor finished her sentence, looking at The Master for some support. She didn’t expect to find him glaring daggers at her and raised her brows in bewilderment. If looks could kill, she’d be six feet under.

“Yes. It will.” He grit out, never changing his look. You wanted to do something to calm him from whatever it was that got to him, but you couldn’t in front of everyone.

“Relax mr grumpy.” Yaz baited, clearly not caring for his foul mood at all. He ignored her, scouring the area some more.

“Care for a drink?” A well-mannered voice came from behind, causing the small group to turn. It was another gecko like man, holding a tray of what looked like yellow martinis.

“Ah thank you.” The Doctor took two at a time, first for you and Yaz, then for her and The Master. Taking a small sip, your eyes squinted at how sour it was.

“What is it, pure lemon?” You coughed, covering your mouth politely. Yaz was the same, handing her glass back to the blonde. She found it hilarious, laughing so hard that she struggled not to spill them. The Master was quick to finish his, taking your glass and putting them both on a nearby table. More people had arrived, a shared vigour across the room. The music picked up in beat, just enough to move too.

“You two don’t mind if we go and dance?” Yaz asked, though not really needing the answer, as she was already pulling on The Doctors sleeve.

“Please do.” The Master practically hissed, which was now starting to worry you. The woman dismissed it however and rushed off to the dance floor. Now alone, you faced The Master with your arms folded.

“What’s the matter?”

“Everyone here is looking at you.” His voice was low, icy even. Bemused, you looked around, eyes everywhere quickly moving on from you the minute you clocked them. Suddenly, you felt very self aware and backed up into his hold. Wrapping his arms around your waist, The Master pressed a kiss to your marked shoulder.

“You see now? I also don’t really approve of you hugging The Doctor like that.” He rested his chin there on your shoulder. “Not when you look this good.” You giggled as he pecked the crook of your neck a few times.

“You’re too kind.”

“Only to you, dear. Come now, I want to show you why this party even happens.” Lacing your fingers, The Master walked you through the crowd, over to the other side of the room. You stayed close, still feeling as though you were being watched. Then you saw it. In front of you was a floor to ceiling, glass window, giving the perfect view of space outside. The sky was a cascade of deep blues and purples, bright stars dotted throughout.

“Look.” The Master pointed down, only for you to see the heads of the Six Silver Moons.

“In about an hour, they’ll be at the perfect height for viewing.” With a hand placed on the small of your back, he stood beside you guardedly. Simpering, you leant into his body, basking in his warmth.

“I would have brought you here eventually. I knew you’d love it, but I’m happily surprised The Doctor actually considered you for once.” He mumbled by your ear, his thumb moving against your side soothingly.

“At least you’re with me. That’s all I really care about now, honestly.” You responded, too shy to look at the man. You didn’t know what he considered the pair of you to be, and that did bother you a little. Were you just like a potential companion with a few benefits? Or were you more? Was it real? You doubted he’d succumb to a human custom, like calling himself a ‘boyfriend’, and perhaps he didn’t even want to commit to you fully.

“How can you think so low of me, pet?” The Master turned you till your eyes met, a scowl present on his face.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be reading my thoughts?”

“Well they’re very loud.” He defended himself, holding onto your waist securely. When you tried to avoid his gaze, he simply followed your eyes.

“I told you, you have me.”

“But what if-“ he didn’t let you finish, tipping down and capturing your lips with his own. You shut up very quickly, clinging onto his arms.

“Do you understand? Whilst I may not use your earthly titles, I consider us an official item, if that’s what you’d call it. As far as I’m aware, you’re mine and that’s not going to change.” Hearing him say that, filled you with an unmatchable amount of joy, a huge smile adorning your face. Happily, you jumped slightly and hugged onto him tightly. Chuckling, The Master swirled round with you in his grasp before placing you back down.

“Care to dance, pretty?”

“How formal. I’d love to.” You bit your lip to suppress your smile, allowing him to guide you onto the dance floor. Surrounded by other couples, he took one hand in his own, then placed his other in the curve of your waist. You held onto his shoulder, letting him take the lead and move to the violin central music.

Time passed swiftly, each tune different from the last. The Master held your hand, twirling you in time with the more up-tempo song. You couldn’t stop laughing, feeling so light and happy in that moment. He pulled you back into his embrace, your back flush to his chest. Looking up at him, he just grinned back at you.

From the crowd, Yaz appeared and rushed over to you both.

“The Doctor wants you.” She said, eyes fixated on The Master and sadly making him part from you.

“Shan’t be too long, ok?” He rubbed your shoulder softly, before glaring at Yaz then heading off.

“Wanna get a drink, (y/n)?” Nodding, you head to the bar with her, standing against the cool marble surface. All the staff were busy, but you didn’t really mind.

“Are you ok, like really ok?” The urgency in her voice did more than confuse you.

“I’m fine, Yaz. Are you ok?” You half laughed, resting one arm on the bar.

“I’m worried about you. I think you’ve been hypnotised.” She exasperated, and you heard yourself groan.

“Can you stop saying that?”

“If you’re being threatened or you’re scared, you know The Doctor will help you right? You don’t have to be freighted.” She touched your arm with care, as if what she was saying was true in any sense.

“Believe me I’m not frightened of him, at all. And he’s not trying to hurt me. Or you for that matter.” You said with certainty, trying hard to convince her. Yet, Yaz was unchanged. Standing straight, it was clear that her temper was rising.

“He’s a monster, (y/n). He’s clearly playing with you. Before long he’ll switch up on you and kill you. All of us maybe.” Now you were beginning to get angry, feeling a protectiveness over him. You knew he could look after himself, but you just couldn’t help it.

“He’s not! Why can’t you just drop it?”

“Because it’s getting out of hand now. You’re with him all the damn time!” She raised her voice, jaw clenched in frustration. People around you started to talk in hushed voices. Not wanting to draw any more attention, it took everything inside of you to remain calm.

“So what? It’s none of your concern. He’s doing exactly what The Doctor asked, he’s following her rules and being good. So what if I spend a bit of time with him?” Trying to play it down, you looked around for a bartender, hoping a drink might ease the argument.

“‘A bit’? It’s more than ‘a bit’! You’re practically attached to him!”

“As if you don’t follow The Doctor like a little puppy?” You shot back, making the girl turn red.

“Well I am her girlfriend! And she’s not a mass murderer!” At that, you gave Yaz a look of boredom, as you both knew of her past.

“Drinks ladies?” A voice cut in.

“Yes, thanks.” You responded without looking, fully focused on ending the stupid spat.

“Yasmine, I’m fine. You really need to stop this. It’s only going to get in the way of The Doctors sessions. He’ll get vexed and try to escape or something.”

“Good. I want him gone. He’s like a parasite and you’re his victim.” The hatred in her words, the pure desire to just throw him out was beginning to really affect you.

“What is wrong with you? You say he’s the evil one yet you’re the one being spiteful. All because he’s being nice to me?”

“Nice? You were dancing five minutes ago! He needs to leave before he brainwashes you into doing something worse.” Yaz was fuming, fist in a tight grip against the bar top. At your wits end, you just scoffed out a laugh.

“If you think dancing is the worst thing we’ve done together, you’re clearly blind.” Her face fell when you said that, dread slowly setting in.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yaz prayed she was wrong, but one look at your face and she knew she wasn’t. “No. No there’s no way.” She said in distress, covering her mouth in shock. “How could you do this to us?”

“Excuse me?” Taking a step back, you glowered at her.

“After everything he did to us? You’re going to just let it go? You’re going to..to..”

“To what? Say it, I dare you.” Your chest was rising and falling at an odd pace.

“I don’t even want to think about it. You’re such a backstabber! When The Doctor finds out, you’ll both be done for.” It was hardly a threat, knowing that The Doctor was a tiny bit more level headed than that. In fact, she sounded like a bratty child.

“What you’re going to go tell on me? Get us in trouble? Is she your girlfriend or your mother?” You poked fun at the scenario, starting to feel worn out from all the yelling. That seemed to be the straw that broke the camels back, since Yaz snatched her purse up into her hand.

“You know what, i wish you two would get yourselves done away with! I’ll be happy if i never have to see you again!” She screamed before turning and storming off. Closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply. It was all too much, sadness overwhelmed you.

“Your drink, miss.” Mumbling a small ‘thanks’, you took the flute and shot back the green, fizzy drink without a care. It didn’t taste too great, but you hoped it would numb the emotional pain you felt. It burned as it went down, in fact, it really burned. More than the average spirit would. Your tongue also reacted strangely to the drink, an instant numbness arriving.

“I’m hope you liked it.” That grainy voice. Cautiously, you turned your head and came face to face with the same man from the fish festival. How could you have missed it? “As it will be the last you ever have” His hairy face brought instant discomfort. Then, you remembered The Masters warning: ‘don’t try the drinks. You’ll get sick.’ Panic slowly came over you, your feet moving you away from the man. The glass slipped from your hands, smashing on the solid floor. Who knows what concoction he filled you with, but it was nothing good. Yasmines final words were starting to feel more like a death sentence. Who knows how long you had before anything more drastic started to happen. Gawping, he just slid over the bar like it was nothing, taking a few lethal steps closer.

“Don’t worry. You’ll fall asleep first. Gives me the chance to do as I please with you. I’ll be able to feel as your body goes cold.” He licked his stringy lips with anticipation. You only had one thing on your mind, finding The Master. You’d rather die in his arms than with this disgusting creature all over you. The tips of your fingers began to tingle. Looking down you found them turning black, your heart going unnaturally fast.

“Don’t be scared, I’ll take good care of your body.” It cackled, reaching its fin like arms forward. On cue, you turned and made a run for it, ducking in and out of the crowds with it hot on your tail. People all around were showing their concern but you just carried on, looking around desperately for The Master. Your legs were getting weaker, black spots clouding your vision in a matter of minutes. You strained yourself until you could barely walk anymore, ending up in the far right corner of the room, in the shadow of the large window. The moons were nearly at their peak, sparkling in the night sky.

“No where left to run human. You really were too tempting to resist. I had to trace you across the universe, but it will be worth it.” Your back hit the wall as it was speaking and closing in on you. How could you keep yourself conscious, how could you get the attention you needed?

“Master!!”

———

The Master had found The Doctor talking with one of the royal guards, learning more about the planets eco system in the process. She had smiled once seeing him.

“You wanted to talk to me?” He questioned, being met with a perplexed look.

“Uh no? Why?”

“Yaz said you did?” He explained, gesturing back to where he’d just come from. He really disliked leaving your side when you didn’t know the planet.

“What? But Yaz told me she was going to find a bathroom?” Now they were both left puzzled.

“So she lied to us both?”

“It would seem so, but why?” The Doctor posed the question, resting back against the wall behind her.

“You know why, I imagine she’s telling (y/n) off for being near me.” Rolling his eyes, The Master exhaled and looked into the crowd. Neither of you were there now. It felt like something had shifted, like a penny was dropping. Where had you gone?

“I’m trying, I just can’t shift her mind.” Guilt was laced in what she was saying so The Master made no further comments. Glancing around the room again, he caught wind of something that made him lour.

“That man was at the festival…that first place we went. I didn’t know their kind were on the guest list?” Looking back at The Doctor, she saw who he meant and nod.

“Neither did I.”

———

Yaz had made a beeline for The Doctor, wanting to explode and give The Master a piece of her mind.

“You!” She screeched, stopping in front of the purple clad man.

“What are you and (y/n)?” Yaz demanded an answer, making The Doctor rush to interfere. However, he held up his hand in wait.

“You know the answer to that, Yasmine.” Choosing to be honest, the young girl was taken aback.

“You’re..together?”

“If you want to put it into earth terms, then yes you can say that.” The confirmation felt like a nightmare. She looked at The Doctor furiously.

“Are you okay with that?”

“Yaz-“

“No Doctor! He’s a manipulative asshole!” She was yelling again, making a few guests and a guard look over. The Master didn’t care to pay attention, instead he was searching the room.

“Where is she?” He asked, getting no answer when the two woman were still bickering. There was a nauseating unease in his gut, their voice making him wince internally. He pushed between them.

“Where. Is. She?” The sharpness of his voice got her attention back again. Yaz tried not to show her fear.

“Who cares! She betrayed us for you!”

“You’re literally the only one who’s hung up on this. The Doctor doesn’t even care!” That made Yaz snap back round to her girlfriend. During the dispute, The Doctor had been sane and calm. It was in her better nature.

“Master!!” Your voice rang through the room, alerting the man instantly. Without thinking, he rushed off in the direction it came from, pushing through with no remorse. Your hands were now fully onyx, with little feeling left in them. The creature was right in your face, a fin sliding over your front and making you feel sick.

“Humans are so soft…” his fishy breath hit your face harshly, and you used all your will to push him back. That made him angry, a fin coming down and slicing across your middle. You let out a whimper of pain, almost falling but keeping your balance.

“Stupid girl, you’ll be mine in a few minutes. I’ll claim you as my own, my own little human sl-“ there was a bright flash. When you looked, it was gone. The Master stood there, eyes wide with terror. With the dark colour etching up your arms, he knew what it was. Blood seeped out of the cut on your stomach. He barely put his stolen TCE away before he was at your side. With what little strength you had, you pushed yourself into his arms just in time for him to catch you. “You came…” even your voice was weak now.

“Of course I did, I should never have left you.” He said, pressing a hand to your stomach firmly. Tears spilled down your cheeks, the pain unbearable and the slowness of your heart really scaring you. Finally, The Doctor caught up just as your legs gave out. The Master was fast, picking you up easily and turning to the woman. Your arm fell limp at your side, head rolling against his shoulder. Seeing you, her breath hitched. Instead of speaking, she began to run, snatching Yaz on the way and heading straight into the tardis. Yaz did watch as The Master carried you down to the med bay, her last words to you now scarred into her brain. He lay you on the bed where he once rested carefully, then rushed around to try and find an antidote.

“What are you thinking?” The Doctor asked in a rush, going to help him with whatever he needed.

“I don’t know. I think he poisoned her, judging by the reaction. It’s like her body is..” he shook his head, swallowing down thickly. She’d never seen him like this before and it scared her. It was really bad. The Master was a mess, flittering about from place to place. He began to ramble, spitting out different ideas and treatments. Slipping in and out of consciousness, you could only let out a strangled noise of pain. It was kink your lungs were folding in on themselves. After giving a set of instructions, The Master went to you once again. Taking hold of your hand, he almost flinched at how cold you felt. There was nothing he could say, he doubted there was anything he could do. Even when the doctor injected you with a blue liquid, it was futile. How could you go from laughing and dancing in his arms, to this? In such a short amount of time. The room fell quiet, your laboured breathing made the atmosphere dense. They knew it was far too late. She watched as The Master stood at your bedside, running his fingers through your hair lovingly. Never being one for goodbyes, The Doctor made her exit in a flurry, making sure Yaz Stayed away too. He could hear crying, not that she deserved to cry or mourn you. Your head went slack, eyes closing as your final breath narrowly escaped. For the first time in a millennium, tears filled The Masters eyes, obscuring his vision. He didn’t stop them, letting them fall. The one good thing he had, gone in an instant, like a drop of water on a lone flame. He now knew exactly how The Doctor felt every time she lose her companions. How she felt when loosing Rose. All of them coming and going like breath on a mirror. Whilst he could live on forever. The thought captured his brain, the most obvious thing. He was your cure. Standing by the top of your bed, The Master rubbed his hands together furiously until they emitted a golden glow, then pressed two fingers on each side of your head, closing his eyes and letting his regeneration energy work its magic. There was no real guarantee that it could bring you back, but he’d risk a life to keep you with him. It was hard to tell at first, with his eyes closed he couldn’t see the gash heal itself. Your hands slowly faded back to (skincolour), life flooding your veins. Eyes shooting open, you sat bolt upright, breathing in so much it made your lungs sore. Everything came back to you at once, your hands feeling around the middle of your stomach. There was no trace. It was gone. Turning your attention to your hands you saw swirls of gold under your skin. The Master took his hands from your head, moving round until you could see him. It all hit you in that moment, everything that had taken place.

“I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was him. I should have know it was him. But we were arguing and I was distracted and-“ hot tears rolled down your cheeks, your words falling into one. The Master didn’t care though, wiping them away whilst sitting on the side of the bed.

“Don’t. Don’t apologise.” His throat was bone dry, making you take his exhausted appearance in.

“Were you…crying?” It was hard to imagine, but all the signs were there. Biting his lip to stop it from wobbling, The Master clasped your hand again tightly, relishing in the warmth and pressing a faint kiss on your palm.

“I thought I’d lost you. It’s been a while since I’ve felt anything like that. I’ve lost so much. So many people that I loved. I couldn’t lose you too.” Unable to stop yourself, you reached forward and wrapped your arms around his middle, your face pressed into his chest. This eased him greatly, his arms encasing your trembling body tightly. Hooking an arm under your legs, he shifted delicately until you were curled up between his legs. Neither of you cared about the dried blood or your ripped dress. It was meaningless now. The Master was cradling you like you could break at any moment, like you just did. Like even the suggestion would make him blunder.

“You love me?” Hesitantly, you gazed up at him. He met your eyes, cupping your cheek and leaning down.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He sounded bittersweet, eyes looking deep into your own. The unexpected confession only made you cry more.

“I love you too.” You choked out, soon met with a deep, passionate kiss. The Master never wanted to let go, holding you against him, feeling your tears mixing with his own. Your hands fisted his now ruined shirt, cherishing the intimate moment. Parting ways, you panted heavily, tiredness overtaking you all of a sudden. Though it was to be expected.

“It’s okay love, you can sleep. I’ll take care of everything.”

———

The Master laid you down in a pair of fresh pyjamas, making sure the covers were over you securely. He left the med bay, walking up and finding both women with tear stained faces. He stopped at the top of the steps, alerting them with his heavy treads. The Doctor stood, looking at him sadly. Beside her, Yaz was clearly inconsolable, sitting on the floor in pure defeat.

“She’s fine. I brought her back.” He said, making the girls eyes grow wide.

“Seriously?”

“You think I’d just let her die, Doctor?” He spoke in a low voice, descending with heavy footsteps. Even now, The Doctor was distraught, knowing they had all lost you for a few minutes. Knowing that the girl she loved had indirectly played a part in that. It was then that The Master changed his course of direction, walking straight towards the blonde. Going against his moral code, he reached out and pulled her into a tight hug where she quickly broke down. He held the back of her head to his shoulder, rocking his old friend as she cried.

“You really saved her?” Yaz asked timidly. The Master, still piqued from the date evens, barely payed her any notice.

“I thought you wanted to kill her. O-or to hurt her…” she trailed off, all her assumptions slowly fading into obscurity. The Doctor pulled away, wiping her face dry the best she could whilst The Master held her up. His hands ran across her shoulders in comfort. Despite everything, the time lords could never truly hate each other. After their lives, they needed each other. They needed that feeling of home.

“I said I never wanted to see her again.” Yaz carried on, trembling in her spot on the floor. “I wished her death…” she finished in a whisper. They both went rigid, The Doctor turned around in trepidation, her mouth going dry.

“No…”

“You said what?” The Master charged over, looking down at the human with a fire inside that couldn’t be extinguished.

“I-I was just frustrated okay? I thought you were-“

“You thought I was hurting her? Manipulating her? Taunting and playing with her like she’s just some pawn in one of my elaborate mind game?” He snapped with venom, making Yaz back away. She couldn’t speak, voice seemingly shutting down.

“Look what happened. Because of your closed mindedness. This is why I hate humans. With your self righteousness and over confidence. Always thinking you’re right.” The Doctor stood back as he berated Yaz, chewing on her thumb nail. Normally, she would never allow this, but it was necessary.

“Unlike you, (y/n) used her brain. She can see past the plans and the killing. Past all the mistakes. She can see me. No, I’m never going to ‘turn good’. But I am going to do whatever I can to keep her safe. I agreed to stay, to try. I was never going to hurt anyone on this ship.” The Master crouched down, glaring deep into her eyes.

“Look what your hatred did. Are you happy now?” He put the question to her, searching her face for a solid answer that would satiate his fury. Yasmine didn’t respond, choking back tears in shame.

“I said are you happy now!” He howled, making the girl recoil, hitting a crystal pillar with force. Now that she was shaking in fear, The Master breathed out a deep sigh, pulling himself up. Turning to leave, he gave her one last cold look and said,

“You don’t deserve to be sad.” Then he trudged back to his room, trying to freshen up. The Doctor could deal with Yaz, hopefully finding an appropriate way of setting her straight.

———

After taking a shower that lasted far too long, The Master stared into the bathroom mirror with confliction. Was his therapy working? Why did he feel guilt? Maybe it was just the day weighing on him. Maybe it was all real emotion. Gripping the edge of the basin, he took in a few sharp breaths whilst moving his head side to side. Part of him wanted to storm the place, find his tardis and steal you away. But you needed to heal. The image of you covered in blood was stained into his memory. It was haunting him. He splatted his face with cold water, throwing something on to wear then pushing on the bathroom door. What he didn’t expect was to see you sat up in his bed, the pyjama shirt he had put you in was now hanging from your shoulder. He missed that dark bruise he had left on you. A symbol to show the universe that you were his.

“You’re supposed to be resting, what are you doing?” His voice made your head shoot round, a smile on your face as he approached you.

“I’m restless. I feel weird. Like buzzy.” You let him know, clenching and unclenching your fists to price your point.

“That’ll be the left over regeneration energy in your system, making sure you’re fully healed.” The Master stood in front of you, eyes wandering over your form numbly, concealing any and all woes. Tilting your head, you stared up.

“You’re sad.” Your statement took him off guard. He just scoffed and looked away.

“You don’t have to hide it from me, Master. I want you to be honest, please?” That was all it took to bring his walls down. He got onto the bed next to you, flopping back against the pillows.

“I’m not sad, (y/n). I don’t know what I’m feeling and I don’t like that.” You frowned as he spoke, crawling up beside him.

“It’s like I’m overwhelmed by a hundred different emotions. It’s awful. I don’t know how The Doctor does it.”

“She’s good at masking her feelings, just like you.” You scolded the both of them, even if she wasn’t there currently. He laughed a bit. Moving closer, you started to play with his hair gently, smiling at the bouncy curls. The Master kept his eyes on your face as you did this, monitoring your smile and your bright eyes. There was still a deep put in the middle of his stomach.

“I was scared. Really scared. Terrified even.” He admitted, voice barely audible. But you heard. Tentatively, you started stroking the side of his head, hoping to help the man open up some more.

“And now I know what Yaz said to you.” You froze, making eye contact with him. “She said she wanted you dead?” You wet your lips anxiously, your hand resuming its movements.

“Both of us actually…”

“I don’t care what she thinks about me. But you? In that moment, when you were gone, I felt so lost.” He was tense, shooting knives at the ceiling with his eyes.

“You quell the racket inside my head. With you, I feel sane. I need you, (y/n). I can’t lose you” the more he spoke the quieter he got, your heart swelling in response.

“You’re not going to lose me. Why do you think I came here as soon as I woke up? I’m not leaving your side, ever.” You soothed, nails scraping along his scalp nicely. “And we can leave together. If you find your tardis we’ll go as soon as you’re ready.” Eventually, your words reached him and The Master relaxed, turning towards you. He pulled you down, holding you against his chest. Instantly you felt safe, nuzzling into him and hugging his waist.

“Trust me, we’re going as soon as possible.” In his mind, The Doctor and Yaz were simply an after thought. He could find his ship in a dual heartbeat, without them knowing, he was just that good. And, with you by his side, The Master knew he could take on anything the universe threw at him.

#doctor who #doctor who x y/n #dhawan master x reader #the doctor x reader #dhawan!master x reader #spymaster #the master x reader #the master #the Doctor #the master angst #the master fluff.#dhawan!master #Dhawan!master imagine #thirteenth doctor x reader #doctor who imagine #doctor who x reader

101 notes · View notes

ihavemanyhusbands · 6 months ago

Text

Vidas Pasadas (Past Lives)

PART THREE: THE HERO ALWAYS GETS THE GIRL

Also on AO3

Part One // Part Two // Mini-Series Masterlist

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Latina!Reader (Spanish speaking)

WC: 5.9k words

Chapter Summary: It was always meant to end up this way, wasn't it? Some things never changed.

Warnings: Minors DNI this fic is 18+, canon typical violence, reader kidnapped by raiders, the ghoul being the ghoul, cursing, some injuries (very mild whump), mentions of death/loss, heavyyyy angst (happy ending tho!), only a little Spanish dialogue, love confession, smut, unprotected p in v, oral (fem receiving), irradiated creampie (with RadAway after lol), aaaaand that's all I can think of but please lmk if I missed anything!

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

In the Past….

You had been restless all day, unable to explain why. Something just didn’t feel right, and not knowing what it was made you feel even worse.

Your house had felt large and empty as you paced around it, smoking. All those long hours, you were acutely aware of the clock’s ticking — Time relentlessly marching on, waiting for no one.

Once you’d actually gone to bed, you’d tossed and turned long into the night. The moon shone faintly through a gap between the curtains, barely illuminating your bedroom. You could not face the yawning void of solitude you found at that hour, so you got up.

Things had gotten much trickier in a short amount of time. There had been many more bomb drills, more fear and paranoia, and substantially fewer job opportunities.

Cooper was no longer acting. He simply wouldn’t get cast anymore, so he had to look in other directions. The loss was tremendous, for yourself and the industry. Moviemaking didn’t quite feel the same anymore, its luster having faded.

You saw him much less, but you still tried to keep in touch. You’d even helped him care for Janey a few times when he had to take an odd gig that would run late. Slowly, he was becoming a shell of the man he formerly was, and you felt helpless to stop it.

But that night, you couldn’t hold yourself back, leaving your house in just a coat and your night dress, like a ghostly apparition. The drive there was nebulous, like you were moving on autopilot. You drifted up the steps and pressed the buzzer to his apartment a few times.

When he came down to see who was at the door, he looked a little worse for wear, like he’d been having a hard time sleeping, too. He ushered you inside, not wanting you to be out in the cold.

“What happened?” Cooper said, worriedly searching you for any sign of injury. “It’s the middle of the night, why didn’t you telephone?”

“I’m so sorry, Coop,” you said, as if waking up from a trance. “Did I wake you up?”

He shook his head, leading you to the old, rickety elevator and pressing the button to his floor.

“No, I was up. Lucky you didn’t wake Janey, though. She’s with me this weekend.”

You covered your face with your hands, ashamed. “Oh God, I’m a mess, aren’t I?”

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, worrying even more at your clear distress. He guided you to his unit, which was smaller than you’d imagined. It’d been a while since Cooper and Barb’s sudden divorce, but he barely seemed to be settling in. The walls were mostly bare, and the sparse furniture seemed to have been included with the unit. There were only a few pictures, mostly of him and Janey, but a few of just his daughter.

He had never really told you what happened, but the change had seemingly occurred overnight. He simply said he was done, that he couldn’t even look at her anymore. You were still pretty baffled about the whole thing, but it wasn’t your business to pry about. You simply supported him however you could.

Barb had not gone easy on him, having the best lawyers Vault-Tec could afford. He had Janey some weekends, but he didn’t get to see her nearly enough. It was a bad situation altogether, and you were sad for everyone involved.

“Cozy,” was all you could whisper after a moment of silence, to which he snorted derisively.

You went to sit on the couch, arms around yourself. The two of you kept your voices soft so as not to wake Janey, and you felt a pang in your chest knowing she was near. She was such a bright ray of sunshine, and you were glad that she and Cooper had each other despite everything.

And especially on a night like that one, when the world seemed to be holding its breath in anticipation of something.

“Drink?” He offered, already pouring himself a glass of scotch in the small kitchen.

You nodded, sniffling, trying to keep the tears that threatened to crawl up your throat at bay. He shuffled back over to you, a frown still on his face.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” He encouraged, handing you the glass and sitting next to you on the couch.

How could you possibly explain the feeling of grief you had, when you hadn’t really lost anyone?

Not yet, at least.

“I don’t know, I just… I had to see you,” you said, taking a sip of your drink. “I didn’t even think about it, I just got in the car and drove.”

“Well, ain’t that sweet,” he chuckled, the sound a little awkward. “But it couldn’t wait until morning?”

“No, Coop, I can’t even explain it. If I tried, I’m sure you’d think I’m crazy.”

“Try me,” he said. “You know you can trust me.”

You set your glass down and scanned his features for a moment, committing them to memory. Then, without a word, you leaned in and brought your lips to his chastely.

You had kissed dozens of times in the past, but for the first time, it was as yourselves. Love was the only thing you could give him then. Years worth of it had accumulated inside of you, with nowhere to go… until that moment.

But your heart was breaking at the same time. Instinctively, you realized this would be your only opportunity to do so. Tears swam in your vision, but you turned your face away before he could see the one that escaped.

Cooper blinked, too stunned to react. You sniffled, pulling back, hands wringing anxiously. He shook his head, snapping out of it.

“Why are you crying?” He asked, hands cupping your face. “I ain’t that bad of a kisser, am I?”

You let out a sad little chuckle, which sounded more like a sob.

I love you, you wanted to say. I love you, I love you, te amo con todo mi corazón*. Please find a way to live, whatever happens.

(*I love you with all my heart)

“Please, take care of yourself,” you pleaded softly instead. “Give little Janey a kiss from me.”

And with that, you got up from the couch and left him like a thief in the night. He’d called for you, but you’d been faster, running down the stairs and heading back to your car. You simply couldn’t handle it anymore. The waiting, the fretting, feeling so fucking helpless… Wouldn’t it be better just to get it all over with?

The rest of the night blurred into a gouache rendition of melancholy and self pity. In the morning, as soon as you were able, you phoned Bud Askins — the Vault-Tec executive who had organized your admission into Vault thirty one — to ask for an expedited entry.

And just as he picked up the phone, you looked out the window and saw the enormous, fiery mushroom cloud rising as if from the depths of hell itself.

——————————————

The Present….

“There she is,” one of the raiders pointed at the old TV screen, where one of your movies was playing. “No wonder she looked so goddamn familiar. Got ourselves a movie star, boys.”

“Gotta be a clone or somethin’, no way she’s lived this long,” another one said.

“What does it matter? Whoever buys her won’t be able to tell the difference. Fresh meat’s hard to come by, and this is the luxury kind,” the first one gruffed, looking back at you over his shoulder. “Isn’t that right, baby?”

You could only glare at him from your spot against the wall. You were gagged, your ankles and wrists bound by old rope. Two days had passed, in which the raiders hadn’t done much other than tie you up and haul you around. You’d gotten a few scraps of food, but not nearly enough to even be considered a snack. Thirst and hunger clung to your very bones, but you were lucky that your survival instincts had kept you going so far.

You might not have been a fighter before, but now you were determined to keep yourself alive at all costs. It hadn’t taken long for you to realize that things were truly ruthless in the wasteland, and it all basically narrowed down to kill or be killed.

You weren’t sure yet if you’d be able to go through with something like that, but you had no other choice but to try if it came down to it.

You were still holding out hope that the ghoul would come find you, but you were well aware that you couldn’t just rely on that possibility. You were running low on time, unsure of how long exactly the potential transaction would take to complete. Or if they would grow tired of searching for buyers and try to possess you themselves.

You would not let it get to that, though. You were just trying to devise the least recklessly foolish escape plan possible.

The raiders had holed up in an old supermarket, which seemed to be their usual base. Most of the empty, broken shelves had been pushed against the walls to make space for whatever furniture they had managed to find. A few shelves surrounded the space like a makeshift barrier, shielding the rest of the building from view.

Rations, old clothes and other miscellaneous objects were scattered about carelessly, but you didn’t notice many weapons, which was potentially a good sign. More valuable loot was stashed in empty freezers, and you were frankly surprised they hadn’t tried to shove you in one, too.

The raiders went back to watching the movie, your own voice sounding strange and faraway to your ears. And then… you heard Cooper’s voice, that southern drawl bringing your attention to the screen. It was the scene of his Feo, Fuerte y Formal speech, when his enemy was at his feet.

Though the screen was riddled with static, you could still see the determined look on his face. Hearing his voice again gave you strength, but it also gave you pause. Why did it feel like it hadn’t been that long since you’d last heard it?

You thought back to the day you’d been abducted, still unsure if you had hallucinated the ghoul screaming your name. Even his voice had sounded different there, but not unfamiliar – more like a dream that had slowly devolved into a nightmare.

There was a nagging feeling at the back of your head that wouldn’t let you rest until you had some answers, but it would all have to wait for a later time.

For the next hour or so, you slowly moved your wrists back and forth in an attempt to loosen the ropes. You went still whenever any of them looked at you – like a deer in headlights, sweat trickling down your spine – but luckily, none of them seemed aware of your actions.

At some point, you had to fully stop as most of them prepared to go out scavenging, leaving only one man behind to guard you.

“Shouldn’t give you much trouble, but you know what to do if she does,” the leader had said, looking right at you with a shit-eating grin.

But the raider left in charge hadn’t seemed too worried about you being a threat, falling asleep on one of the couches soon after they had left. When your wrists were rubbed raw and bloody by the rope, you soldiered through the pain until adrenaline kicked in, and you managed to loosen the knots enough to free one of your hands.

You swallowed down the nausea that crawled up your throat at the sight of your mangled skin. Keeping one eye on the sleeping raider, you began to attempt untying your ankles, but then you heard a crash at the front of the building. The raider woke up with a start and you had a millisecond to hide your hands behind your back once more.

“What the fuck was that?” he muttered, looking around frenziedly.

You shrugged helplessly, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he stood, grabbing a weapon. You whimpered, momentarily fearing he might use it to prod you further, but he stayed put.

“You better not try any stupid shit, alright?” He said, pointing it at you in warning.

You nodded quickly and he crept around a shelf, disappearing from view. It was eerily silent after that, except for your blood thundering in your ears. You waited for him to return, unmoving, for what seemed like an eternity.

There were a few more sounds somewhere out front, but you couldn’t quite discern what they were. Still, you didn’t really want to wait around and find out. Who knew if you’d get another opportunity like this?

But just as you decided to push your luck and reached for your ankles, you heard footsteps. And with those footsteps, there was the familiar, faint clinking of spurs that you had come to know.

The ghoul suddenly rounded the corner, holding the raider’s bloodied machete, which matched the blood spattering his clothes. Talk about a guardian angel, you thought, somehow finding humor to keep yourself from absolute hysteria – even as your eyes welled with overwhelmed tears. A muffled sound escaped your throat, but there was still tape covering your mouth, so all you could do was widen your eyes.

“There y’are,” he said with what seemed to be a relieved grin, but it was short-lived. “Oughta kill you myself for makin’ me go through all that trouble to find you…”

He crouched in front of you to free you from your binds, tossing the weapon aside. You gasped as he ripped the tape from your face, momentarily glaring at him for his lack of gentleness. But your own relief outweighed any frustration you felt, and without thinking you threw yourself at him, your arms wrapping around his neck.

He froze, feeling the jackrabbit pace of your heart against his chest. The breathed-out thank you in his ear almost gave him goosebumps, but he kept himself composed. You yourself couldn’t believe that you were so elated to see him, having been terrified of him only a week prior.

But now it didn’t seem to matter, because even if he groused about having to do the work, he had still come to find you.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough of that,” he said, shoving you back. “Get up, we gotta get outta here before the rest of ‘em come back.”

He hauled you onto your feet, steadying you when you almost stumbled into him. You glanced at the TV, where the movie had been paused on a close-up shot of Cooper.

You hesitated, suddenly transfixed by an emotion that was getting close to realization. The ghoul followed your line of sight and grimaced, averting his gaze.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” You said, the words spilling before you’d even thought them through. “How ironically familiar it all is, in a fucked up way.”

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. When you looked over at him, something ill-concealed in his expression confirmed things without him having to say anything.

His eyes hadn’t changed… how did you not see it before?

You took a step closer and that seemed to snap him out of it.

“No idea what you’re goin on’ about,” he gruffed, turning away. “Now get movin’ or I’ll tie you to my belt and herd you like cattle. Andale!”

You pursed your lips at his stubbornness but trailed after him. You watched his back, hunting for more details to further reassure yourself you weren’t crazy — His posture, the way he walked, his strong shoulders squared proudly, as if in preparation for whatever came.

There was still so much to say, but first, you had to get as far away from this serpent’s nest as possible.

On the way, he found an old tire iron, tested its heft, and then handed it to you. At least, it seemed less daunting than a knife or a machete, and arguably less bloody. The world might be a cruel place, but he would try to help minimize the blow as much as he could. In his own way, of course.

He pushed out of the secret entrance at the side of the building, and you almost slammed into his back as he abruptly stopped.

“Well, fancy seeing you here boys,” he said before you could even ask what was wrong, and a stone seemed to drop into your stomach. “Jus’ came to collect what’s rightfully mine. We’ll be on our way now.”

“Like hell you are,” came the barked reply.

You peered around him and saw only a handful of the raiders, the leader nowhere in sight. Somehow, that made you relax a little, the odds slightly more favorable. Not that you didn’t believe the ghoul could handle the whole group, but you just didn’t want to take your chances.

“Oh, yeah? And who’s gonna stop me? You?” The ghoul drew his revolver before anyone else could react, firing a shot directly at the raider’s head. “Whoops, I guess it ain’t gonna be him, after all.”

A stunned moment passed before the raiders were all launching themselves at him. You pressed back against the wall, watching how the ghoul moved with a swift, deadly grace. Two were down before they even knew what was happening.

You moved from your spot to try to find some cover in case any stray bullets flew by you. Crouching by some rusted oil barrels, you kept your eyes on the action, listening to the ghoul laughing at a failed attack.

Then you noticed movement elsewhere. While he was facing off another three of them, a raider that had broken off from the rest was slowly inching closer behind the ghoul’s back.

Yelling out a warning would probably hinder more than help him, so you took a deep, fortifying breath and crept behind the raider. You tried to keep control of your breathing as you got closer, taking deliberate steps. You adjusted your grip on your weapon a few times, your palms sweating like never before.

But just as you closed the distance between you and raised the tire iron over your head, one of the other raiders yelled Watch out!

Still, you swung, striking him right across the temple with a sickening crack. He crumpled, knocked out cold, and everything moved quickly after that.

In all the distraction, the ghoul dove forward and sank his knife into the nearest raider’s stomach. Then he turned them both around, using him as a shield before he shot the other two raiders.

Once they were all on the ground, he looked at you over his shoulder and grinned.

“Well, well, look at you watchin’ my back for me,” he said, seemingly impressed. “Doesn’t make us quite even, but getting closer.”

You let out a breathy laugh, but your mouth suddenly filled with saliva, and you had to keep yourself from throwing up. All of the day’s events were starting to catch up to you, and adrenaline could only keep you on your feet for so long.

“Can we just uh… please?” You said, gesturing into the distance vaguely. “If I don’t eat something soon, I think I’m gonna pass out.”

He sighed, jerking his head to one side in a motion for you to follow. “Better hope there’s still rations in your pack, then, ‘cus I ain’t a free meal ticket.”

———————————————-

You slept for what felt like days, waking up disoriented to find the afternoon sun high in the sky. You rolled onto your back, wiping away the drool that had trickled out of the corner of your mouth. You were sure you looked just as terrible as you felt, but it was the least of your worries at that moment.

The abandoned parking structure you’d camped out at was cool and shaded, the wind blowing through it. It’d been dark by the time the two of you had found it, and you could only remember wolfing down some food before promptly passing out.

Your wrists had been bandaged at some point, a small courtesy from the ghoul. Proof once again that he cared, despite his tough, biting exterior. The warmth you felt in your chest reminded you of what was still pending between you, and how it could wait no longer.

You sat up and looked around, gathering your bearings. He wasn’t too far away, standing at the other end of the lot with his back to you. He was looking off into the distance, lost in thought.

You watched him for a moment, wondering what was going through his mind. Wondering if maybe, just maybe, your thoughts were running parallel.

Only one way to find out.

You got up, wincing at the deep ache in your muscles. You started to shamble over to him, but you only reached halfway before you were no longer brave enough to get any closer.

“Cooper,” you called, voice tremulous. “… It is you, isn’t it?”

The ghoul turned around slowly, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. He was quiet for a moment, for once seemingly afraid to meet your gaze.

“Still stubborn as a mule, aren’t’cha?” he said, trying to mask the nostalgia in his voice with wry humor.

You let out an amused huff. “Always drove the producers crazy.”

“Well, it wasn’t just them.”

Finally, he looked up at you, his gaze much softer than they’d been the past few days. At that moment – despite the ravages of time, radiation, and even misery – you could still see the Cooper you had always known. And while you were elated by the revelation, your heart also hurt to think he had undergone so much by himself, losing who he was in the process.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked, knowing it was likely a selfish question. “From the beginning?”

“I never… thought you would see me like this,” he said, swallowing hard. “After that night, when the bombs were dropped, I didn’t know what happened to you. I just assumed you were…”

“Dead,” you finished for him. “I thought the same about you.”

Silence hung heavily for a moment, and you weren’t sure if you should move or not.

“What about your family?” You asked, bracing for the worst.

“Lost,” he said simply, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “I got Janey to one of the vault’s on time, but there was no space left for me.”

His pain was palpable, making your heart shatter anew. But how to take it away from him? It was impossible to just erase all that had happened, but you could at least help him shoulder the burden.

“Cooper…” you breathed, finally closing the remaining distance between you.

He shifted uncomfortably, angling his head away. You reached up to gently cup his face, making him look at you.

“A face not even a mother could love, ain’t it?” He murmured, braced for whatever reaction you’d have to him now.

He expected disgust and rejection, but that was far from what you felt then – A yearning so deep you feared it would fully consume you. The world had fucking ended already, so why not confess how you felt? Nothing worse could happen if you did.

“My feelings for you have remained intact for more than two hundred years, Cooper. You really think this is going to change my mind?”

He blinked in surprise, his eyes searching your face for any sign that you were lying. You merely smiled, open and earnest, letting him digest your words.

“That night, when you kissed me… My mind was all over the place. I didn’t know what to think, what to say, but you ran away before I could even try.” He chuckled weakly at the memory. “Somehow, I felt it was a long time comin’, but a part of me never thought it was possible.”

“I’m sorry it was all I could give you then,” you whispered, and he placed a hand over one of yours. “If only we had known…”

“Say the words for me, will you?” He rasped, face inching closer to yours. “I won’t believe it until you say it.”

You didn’t hesitate. “I love you, Cooper Howard. I loved you before, and I love you now, just as you are.”

“You sure about that?” He said, but his resolve was crumbling. “Not much room for love in places like this, especially with folks like me.”

“We’ll just have to make room for it then.”

He raised his hairless eyebrows, both pleased and amused at your conviction.“Just like that, hmm?”

One of his arms snaked around your waist slowly, pressing you closer to him. Your eyes dropped to his mouth, desirous. The fire he saw in them ignited him as well — A long lost feeling that was returning to the surface with a vengeance.

“Bésame,” you sighed, mere seconds before his lips were melding against yours.

You kissed with an almost frantic desperation, tightly clinging onto each other. It was the kind of kiss you had always dreamt of — devouring and insatiable, eager to fuse together.

His hands were curious but hesitant, roaming up to your ribcage and down to your hips, but no further. You grabbed one of his hands and placed it on your chest, not only as permission, but also so he could feel how your heart pounded for him.

His own longing overflowed, clouding his senses. A part of him had still been unwilling to believe you could actually love — much less tolerate — what he had become. But when you moaned softly into his mouth, he knew he was a lost cause.

Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t very good with words that weren’t scripted. But fortunately for you, there were other ways he could demonstrate his devotion.

You arched into his touch as he palmed one of your breasts, a low sound in his throat. He moved to kiss your neck, lavishing your collarbone with his tongue. He wanted to kiss you all over, but he would need to get you bare first.

You let him tug your blouse over your head, his gloves subsequently coming off. His hands were calloused as they returned to touch your skin. The tips of his fingers teased the waistband of your pants, and he smirked as you frowned up at him.

“What? I wanna enjoy every moment of this,” he drawled, eyes dipping lower to watch your chest heave. “So many times I tried to imagine how I would do this. Sometimes I would unwrap you like a present… Others, well, let’s jus’ say I was like a coyote getting ahold of a chicken.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the morbid description, strangely not put off by it. “How romantic. I’m still trying to decide how I’ll take yours off.”

He shifted, something like panic flashing in his eyes for the briefest second. “Hold your horses, sweetheart. I ain’t done with you yet.”

You understood his hesitance immediately, deciding not to push it for the time being. You had years of patience under your belt, and his trust was something you did not mind earning again. He removed only his duster, draping it on the floor.

He undid your belt and knelt in front of you as you wiggled your hips to help him take your pants off. There was a puff of warm breath against your navel a second before he planted a kiss on it. You shuddered as his teeth snagged the hem of your panties, pulling them down.

There was a noticeable wet spot on the fabric, which made him groan. His cock was straining against his pants already, but he wanted to focus on you first.

“Come here, you,” he rasped, grasping your hips and bringing you down with him.

As soon as you were on your back, his mouth was on you again. He’d wanted to feast his eyes first, to take you in in your full glory, but he found he couldn’t keep himself detached from you for too long.

He kept his promise, slowly working his way around. You surrendered to his adoration with ease, every caress and every kiss awakening every part of you. At some point, you reached a level of sensitivity that had you whimpering at the slightest touch. The light sting of his teeth on your nipples sent electricity straight to your core.

He lost himself in your smell and your warmth and your softness – a supplicant finally worshiping at his sacred temple. When his mouth finally sealed over your clit, your back arched off the floor, taut as a bow.

“Cooper,” you gasped, delirious with lust. “Please, I-I need… Let me touch you, something, please!”

He shushed you gently, arms wrapping around your legs. “Just lie back and let me take care of you, darlin’.”

You wished you could say you lasted some time under his ministrations, but you came with embarrassing ease. That first orgasm hit you like an avalanche, sweeping throughout your whole body. You clapped a hand over your mouth as you cried out, not wanting to be too loud and potentially attract unwanted attention.

He let out a faint chuckle, lapping up your release with gusto and nearly making you come a second time. He found he especially liked teasing your clit with quick little flicks of his tongue, your moans higher pitched. You tried squirming away from him, nearing overstimulation.

“You’re killing me, Coop!” You couldn’t help but giggle hysterically, pushing at his head. “Por favor!”

He pulled back, grinning roguishly as he licked his glistening lips. “What can I say? Seems I can’t get enough of you.”

“Then take me already,” you pleaded. “I can’t wait any longer.”

He needed no further convincing. He unhooked his arms from your legs and his body slid upwards until your faces were level. He was quick to undo his pants and push them down, bending down to kiss you as he took his cock in one hand, stroking it.

You brought your knees up to his sides as you tasted yourself on his tongue. Slowly, he pushed inside of you, leaning his forehead against yours so he could see your reactions. Brows furrowed, mouth slack, cheeks flushed – you were the prettiest picture, in his eyes.

“That’s it,” he exhaled as he buried himself to the hilt. “Takin’ me so good, like you were made just for me.”

“You’ve a-already made it clear th-that I’m yours,” you said with a teasing little smile that you could barely hold as he started to move.

He remembered his words to the raiders, letting out a breathy chuckle. “I did say somethin’ like that, didn’t I? Guess it must be true, then.”

His strokes were long and slow at first, letting you feel every inch as he stretched you. His eyes were fixed on your face, drinking in your features and reassuring himself that it was not a dream. He knew he wouldn’t last too long either, for all he teased you about it.

He started going faster, the snap of his hips harsher, as you begged for it. Pleasure was overtaking him, wiping his mind clear of everything that wasn’t the present moment. Your name left his lips like a prayer, his eyes heavy lidded and glazed over with ecstasy.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he moaned. “I-I love you. Fuck, I love you.”

You clung to him, afraid that if your heart went any faster, it might stop altogether. Soon enough, he felt you tightly squeezing around him, and he knew you were close once again. He was right there with you, driven by your pleasure, and then you pulled him in for a kiss.

He felt you tremble under him as you came, the intensity not letting you make more than a small, choked sound. With a long, rough groan and a deep thrust, he spilled inside of you. Lost in a feverish oblivion, having forgotten when the last time he’d experienced it was… if at all. No drop was wasted, in the end.

During the comedown, you lay there panting, his added weight on top of you comforting. You looked at each other and laughed, elated at the whole thing. It felt like no time had passed at all, somehow.

“Tryin’ to steal my soul already,” he said, a fondness in his voice that made your stomach flutter. “Hold on, I need to get some RadAway in ya.”

Breathing heavily, he slowly pulled out of you and got to his knees. He tucked himself away and reached for his pack. He pulled out a yellow IV bag, which you recognized from Bud’s few lessons about the wasteland. You hadn’t even thought about it until then, but you were immensely grateful he had been prepared.

He hooked you onto it delicately and slumped back down beside you, lying sideways. You grinned, snuggling closer to him. His fingers traced lazy circles on your belly as he looked down at you, adoring.

The real world slowly crept into the edges of your mind, anxiety at being separated from him suddenly spiking. Now that you had him, there was no way you would just let him go.

“I don’t know what I should do now,” you confessed, voice low. “I know I want you, and I want to be with you, but what about New Vegas? Do you think they’d send someone to look for me?”

He thought about it for a moment. “Maybe. It’s very possible, you never know. You’re more valuable than you realize, and I ain’t just sayin’ that ‘cus I’m biased.”

You snorted, shoving him playfully, but he continued. “But… I think I should still take you there. My sort of lifestyle in the wasteland ain’t for you, darlin’. I almost lost you once already, very stupidly.”

“That was my fault, though,” you said, pained at the guilt in his voice for not being able to protect you.

“Everybody makes mistakes. You could make a hundred more, but one of ‘em might just cost you everythin’. I ain’t takin’ those chances.”

“Well, you’re certainly more forgiving now…” you muttered, rolling your eyes. “But then what? You’re not just gonna drop me off at twenty one for safe keeping, are you? I would kill you.”

He laughed. “Oh, I don’t doubt it. But it won’t come to that, we ain’t stayin’ in the vault.”

“Oh? We aren’t?”

“There’s a few settlements out there that are safe and, uh, friendly to my kind.” He cleared his throat, not wanting to bring much attention to his current state of being. You took his hand, squeezing his fingers, and he returned the gesture.

One day, you would make sure he would never doubt his worth ever again. You admired his strength and perseverance, soldiering through an unforgiving environment, continuing to live. He was certainly different from the hero that he always played in the movies, but he was a hero nonetheless. In your eyes, at least.

“Well, well… That’s all it took to bring you to your knees, huh?” You teased, raising an eyebrow. “You really thinking of settling down?”

“Oh, I ain’t retirin’, sweetheart,” he said with a huff. “But if you’re askin’ if I’m thinking of going steady with you, well…”

The two of you shared a knowing look, smiling at that echo from the past. At that moment, you felt that things might just be okay after all. You had been through worse things, jumped through bigger hurdles, and yet you had still arrived there. Who was to say you couldn’t handle more?

“Kiss me then, and let’s seal the deal.”

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

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x you #fallout fanfiction #cooper howard fanfiction #the ghoul fanfiction #the ghoul fanfic #cooper howard fanfic #minors dni #cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard x latina!reader #the ghoul x latina!reader

66 notes · View notes

nomsfaultau · 9 months ago

Text

Hybrid AU in exile week where avian instincts can take over to a degree that is almost horrific, erasing someone’s personality and rationality when they’re panicking. First part here.

Tommy is sick of being sat upon by some nut job he barely knows. It’s been days trapped under a Philza who doesn’t really register human words and mostly just coos whenever Tommy tries to cuss him out. Techno says it’s ‘cause Philza thinks he’s been hurt and needs to be protected, which like, yeah, fine sure, but not by Philza. Tommy already has a guardian. His abuser has to be insanely worried about him, especially after Philza assaulted him for no reason. But every time Tommy tries to escape he’s just dragged back and everything gets worse.

At least that part is familiar.

He’s forced to stay in that nest for days, and Tommy has never handled being cooped up well. Some part of him likes the weight of a parent roosting over him and the feeling of gentle hands combing through his wings and hair, but the overwhelming majority of his instincts just wants his abuser back. Techno is of absolutely no help, mostly since Philza keeps trying to murder him. But he sits in the corner and is open to chat, or read a book aloud to him to stave off some of the boredom. Best advice Techno has is that Philza will be normal again if he thinks his chick is safe and happy.

Hell no. Tommy is not feeding this guy’s delusions, especially when Techno reveals Tommy’s own feathers had been woven next to Philza’s in the nest long before Tommy’s abduction. A-grade creep behavior there. Besides, his abuser will come save him soon. Tommy is so acutely aware that he’ll never save himself.

But then it’s been days and he’s losing hope and just wants to go home, so desperately Tommy tries to figure out what Philza will register as a happy chick. Usually chirps just burst out of him, not something he controls at all, but with some struggle he forces out the little trill he made every time his abuser came home.

Something twists in Tommy’s chest as Philza echoes the joyful chirps at him. It feels horribly right, complete whereas with his abuser the greeting was never returned. That wasn’t his fault, he wasn’t an avian. Neither of them had known what was needed to soothe his instincts.

But it works. Philza blinks rapidly, pupils returning to normal. His gaze locks on Tommy, eyes filling with tears. “I’m so sorry he did this to you.” Philza wraps him in a warm hug. Juuust great. He was hoping to leave after Philza got over it. All he wants is to get back to his abuser, but when he says as much the embrace becomes a vice. Tommy naturally rejects Philza’s awful claims, growing more and more desperate as his abuser is slandered. First the absurd claim he somehow stopped Tommy from flying, like it wasn’t because Tommy was too weak and small to. And then it’s after him for not providing proper shelter at their nest, even though his abuser was trying to teach him to be responsible when he had Tommy make his shack. Then the lack of healing supplies, then the fact he was dying alone when Philza found him.

“No, it’s my fault I tried to fly when he was gone! He was there for me every time I was injured! Shut up, I can too prove it. Hard not to be there when he caused it half the time!”

For some unknowable reason, Philza doesn’t take that well. Neither does Techno, even when Tommy tries to explain they’re misinterpreting what he said, really it was Tommy’s fault, mistakes and the natural punishment for his actions. When he argues it wasn’t bad, Techno brings up the injuries a bit too old to heal when he used the potions. They try to get in his head, voicing all the thoughts in Tommy’s head before he plummeted and proved his abuser right.

Thing is, Tommy has flown before. It’s been awhile, but he has, when he was younger, knew the wondrous taste of its joy. With L’Manburg he’d been careful to fly below the walls so he didn’t get shot down. And it wasn’t possible in Pogtopia. And then after…it just seemed pointless. And now he can’t at all, and the only reason he can find is because he doesn’t deserve that joy.

Unless it was taken from him. Just like everything else, Tommy finally admits. Wearing an avian’s feathers is meant to be a promise to support them as surely as their own wings, and yet his abuser clipped his.

It’s hard, realizing he was only ever so weak because the man he trusted was sabotaging him the whole time. Twisting his instincts, forcing him to become a useless hatchling. Manipulating him so he could never fly to safety.

Tommy begins to sob.

Next>

97 notes · View notes

targaryenrealnessdarling · 2 years ago

Text

Form of Gratitude

Summary: Alone and injured, Aemond is forced to trudge through the Kingswood in urgent need of help. And when he does receive it, it surely needs a reward.

Warnings below the cut~

Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, some mention of bones being where they shouldn’t, oral (m receiving), penetration, fingering

The sheer force of the fall had been enough to send Aemond into a dizzying sleep. Coupled with the height of the fall, he could feel his skin contracting around his head in a dull ache and the sharp twinge of pain radiating his upper body.

Attempting to move was futile, and so he laid there for what seemed like hours, eye firmly pulled shut and slowly building up both the courage and the will to use his good arm to push himself off the earth. The horse that had thrown him off and into the ditch had run off hours ago. And he knew now it had been a long time since the barely visible light of the sun disappeared over the horizon and he could barely make out the silhouettes of the trees high above him against the darkened sky.

It had been so long since he had heard a human voice, he assumed the rest of the party were on the other side of the Kingswood, aimlessly looking for him. The darkness only proved that they had been unsuccessful and had probably settled in a nearby town to resume the search tomorrow. No doubt they would get a firm talking to from Alicent upon his return, for leaving the Prince in his condition overnight.

Aemond liked hunting as much as anyone else, but he did not love it. He found the forests dark and dank, teaming with wildlife that feasted on dirt and grime. And he would grit his teeth and simply bear it. It was better than being cooped up in the Keep for too long in any case.

But now, laying here on the cold, damp ground, he found that he was becoming afraid. What if he couldn’t move? What if an animal thought him suitable for their next meal? It was not uncommon after all to be attacked by otherwise docile animals at nightfall. And he shook his head as he began to hear the loud squawks of birds and the low rumble of mammals that otherwise would hide from sunlight.

Eventually, he managed to prop up his body using his good hand, pushing his ever-heavy body to sit upright. This is when he first felt the searing hot rips of pain through his other shoulder. Even the slightest shift would have him keeled over, almost vomiting with pain. So swiftly advancing to his feet, his good hand gripped his other arm to keep it still and tight to his chest, preventing any further injury.

Yes, losing his eye was the most painful experience. Only this was second to it.

Taking deep breaths through the gurgling in his stomach threatening its way back up his throat, he took his first baby steps at finding some or any semblance of civilisation. Hoping and praying for somewhere safe to at least sleep or get help.

That fucking stupid horse, was all he thought as he limped his way through the moss covered forest, dragging his feet along the greenery. He could not even say that the horse was spooked, it had simply refused to jump over one particular log. This time instead of merely needing some reassurance from his rider, decided to fling the young Prince off his back. Even more unfortunately so into a dirty ditch. So not only was Aemond annoyed at the injury, but he was covered in dirt and grime, which made him feel even more heavy.

He could barely think for how bad it hurt, not even finding the strength sometimes to open his eye to look at his path ahead.

In the distance, he heard the distinct sound of a horse’s breathing and he could feel the wanting push of strength in his legs to discover his horse impatiently and nervously trotting around another large log blocking his way.

Frightened and instead of running towards his rider, fled in the opposite direction, tucking its front legs to jump over the log with ease.

Aemond sighed with annoyance, “Now you fucking jump…” he murmured with a hint of pain.

A new rush of adrenaline spurred through him at the prospect of tasting freedom and he jogged towards where his stupid horse had disappeared to, almost tripping over a path of cobblestones.

“Stop” a voice rang out through the silent air. Aemond’s air stopped dead in his lungs, eye wide at the end of a long path. Only now realising that it lead up to someone’s home.

It wasn’t large and looked worse for wear on the outside, but there was a thatched roof cottage sat at the other end of the cobbled path. Moss engulfed the space around it as well as the stone walls, lit only by a warm shroud of light that spilled through the front door. All that blocked it was the woman with the bow and arrow pointed sharply in Aemond’s direction.

The bow obstructed his view of her face slightly. But she wore a linen dress, with an apron pinned to the front and one side of her skirt was tucked into it, exposing the underskirt below. And had an arrow not been pointing in his direction, perhaps the Prince would have thought it scandalous.

Aemond had been completely caught off guard, he did not say a thing and simply stayed still. Perhaps hoping that if he didn’t move, she wouldn’t see him.

“‘Tis a bit late for hunting, is it not?” she asked.

She adjusted her hand on the bow, pulling the arrow back against the string a little tighter to improve her aim should she need to.

He could have scoffed. He was quite possibly in the worst mood for jokes.

He licked his lips, dry from hours of silence.

“I pose no harm, my Lady”

The flashes of pain were too strong for Aemond to conceal them with his voice. And his tone wavered significantly in his response.

She squinted her eyes and retracted her bow and arrow, lowering the weapon to the ground. It was here he could have his first proper look at her. She was quite striking in her features, unusual for someone in this part of Westeros, but it complimented her well and he could tell from the way she commanded herself that she had some fire in her.

She tutted, “I don’t suppose you’ll be posing anyone any threat wobbling about like that”

Her mischievous look made him feel slightly more at ease. That and when she lowered her weapon.

“What is wrong with you anyway?” she asks, sounding slightly unbothered.

Now it’s Aemond’s turn to tut and he shakes his head, this in itself sending a white hot twinge down his shoulder.

“How am I to know” the words came out more forcefully than he intended, and he noted her raised eyebrow at his tone, “Is there a maester, or rather a healer anywhere?”

Her face softens at his question, if not only for a moment, seeing how much pain he is in.

“You seem to be in luck, at least” she responds and he furrows his brows, “I am a healer”

She dusts her hands off once tucking away the bow and arrow, Aemond flinches slightly as she walks up quickly to take his other arm to lead him inside. At this point, he realises that despite who she is, or rather who she says she is, he is in little position to refuse. And with any luck, have a roof over his head.

He lets out a pained breath as the warm air of the inside hits his body and he instantly feels his muscles calm.

The woman busied herself with boiling the water and gathering her various tools and ingredients before gesturing to the end of her bed.

Aemond paused for a moment, “How do I know you are who you say you are?”

She rolled her eyes, pulling up a stool to sit opposite him, “I don’t suppose you have much choice?” she sighs.

Aemond allows his hefty body to fall to the end of the bed, sitting high above the woman in front of him. He eyes her every movement and she shrugs, that smile floating up to her face once more.

Aemond felt the hot whips of something foreign flutter about his chest as her nimble fingers came to the buttons and fastenings of his tunic, seemingly unbothered by his reaction and more focussed on her work.

“Besides, you are in my home now. If I wanted to kill you, believe me good sir, I would have done it already”

Fair point, Aemond thought to himself. Not like she would put up much of a fight against him at his best. But right now he was not, and like it or not, he needed her help.

She went to pull the tunic from his shoulders, being careful to not bump his bad side. Aemond still hissed in pain though.

“And how do you know I am not dangerous” Aemond half-joked, scrunching his eye closed to bear through the pain. She pulled his sleeve over his good arm, letting the leather tunic rest around his waist. Now for the other side.

She scoffs, to his surprise, “You don’t look very dangerous like this”

She gingerly tugs at the collar on the other side, Aemond shivers as she brushes his hair down his back to get it out of the way. He hisses again,

“Sorry..” she says in a whisper, her breath warm against the peach fuzz on his neck. She carefully rolls the clothing off his shoulder, watching his expression for any sign of major distress. With one sleeve being off, it was much easier to negotiate the clothing off his body, leaving him in the sheer white undershirt. Eventually the other sleeve dropped to the floor and she took a step back, eyebrows furrowing and biting her lip.

Aemond could only look up at her, wondering what was going through her mind. What was she so concentrated on?

With the shake of her head, “I’ll have to take the shirt off to see properly”

She crouched down before him with some shears between her fingers.

“What do you think you are doing?” he asked. Her fierce eyes meet his above her and she uses the shears she has in a snipping motion,

“Unless you want to take the shirt off yourself?”

When no reply came from Aemond but an annoyed sigh, she began cutting.

Once the rags of white were pulled from her body, she inspected the shoulder one more. One slender finger running over the tense muscle of his pale arm and he groans louder this time.

“Oh don’t be precious. I’m trying to help you” she tuts,

“And I thank you, but please sooner rather than later”

In a flash, she is pouring something into a cup and grabbing all the cloth she can, and her silence panics him slightly.

“Well?”

“There is no wound as such, no blood. But your shoulder is dislocated”

She bunches the cloth in her hand, making several knots.

Aemond raises his eyebrows, “Meaning?”

“Meaning…your shoulder has come out of its joint”

He stares at her blankly, still confused and she sighs at his expression as if now annoyed.

“Meaning?”

“Gods, meaning…I will need to pop it back in. Drink this”

She shoves the cup into his good hand, but he does nothing for a moment and instead inspects the slightest dusty mug and the contents within, wincing at the smell.

“What is it?”

“It’s milk of the poppy, now just drink it so I can get your shoulder back in”

He gives her a cold look before downing the horrid substance in one gulp, grimacing afterwards at the texture it has left on his mouth. So much so, he barely realises that she is behind him knelt on the bed, tying one end of the cloth around his arm and shoulder tightly. He can feel that tight feeling below his waist at feeling the pressure of her breasts against his back, eye looking up to the roof to pray for the will.

“Now. This will hurt” she readied her arms with a firm grip on the cloth. Knowing he was a large man with long limbs, the risk of him flailing about and overpowering her was at the forefront of her mind, “Relax”

She orders it and Aemond scoffs at her tone. Does she not know who she is talking to?

“I doubt tha-”

As he is about to disregard her very job, she tugs at the cloth with all her force to pull the joint up and back into its socket. For a split second, she was not sure if she would be strong enough, feeling the bone grind against her grip. Furrowing her brows and placing a knee against his back for some support, she delivers a harsh tug and the bone rolls back into its home. Slotting perfect back into its rightful spot.

She was not surprised however, when Aemond moaned out in searing pain, his muscles tense with the feeling. And then, pop, he felt it. The euphoric feeling of being able to move his arm was better than anything, and for the most part, had clouded the feeling of pain. Replacing it with pure bliss.

He couldn’t help but let out a relieved gasp feeling his bones grab at his shoulder and he resisted the urge to fall back against the woman. All the tensing and pain had made him tired beyond words.

As fast as she had done it, she was untying the knots. Smiling down at the exhausted man beneath her, two hands on his shoulders to guide his back to meet the bed. And now his breathing is slow and steady, as if he could finally relax for the first time.

“I don’t envy you…” she says from the other side of the cottage, standing before a boiling kettle.

Aemond finds the strength to look up to her, supporting his torso on his elbows. She was smiling back at him, waiting for the water to boil. He had to admit, he smiled back.

“...it is not the nicest feeling”

He watches her soft and calculated movements as she pours two cups of something warm. She takes her place on the stool before him once again, extending the other cup to him in a sort of truce.

The warmth comforts his chest instantly.

“That is an understatement”

The woman lets out a warm laugh as she tucks her skirt underneath her sitting form, fingers curling around the mug to warm her cold skin. Aemond watches her as she stares off into nothing and how the reflection of the lit fireplace bounces off the colour of her eyes. Truthfully, until now, he had not taken in her little home.

It was nowhere he would personally choose to live, destined for a life in the Red Keep, but it certainly had its own charm. It was barely even two rooms, only containing her wooden bed frame and the other mostly the kitchen appliances and a small stove. And when his eye observed the space around him, every shelf, every surface had some ornament on it and there was not a single wall sparse of any decoration.

“Are you alone out here?”

He realises how strange the question sounds when she gives him a cheeky smirk, one eyebrow ticked above her eye at his boldness.

“It used to be my mother’s cottage. She passed away when I was quite young and I’ve been here ever since”

The story is brushed off with a mere shrug of her shoulders and he can tell that she doesn’t wish to speak any more about family.

“Seems an odd place for a woman on her own”

He can sense her frustration on the topic through the tapping sound of her nail against the cup, “I am alone for a reason. Healers are not exactly welcomed with open arms in most parts of Westeros”

“Hm” is all he responds with, which she mistakenly interprets as pain.

“How is your shoulder now?” her brows were temporarily furrowed in worry.

Aemond waved his hand in dismissal, “There is no pain. Thank you for your assistance, my Lady”

She hums a laugh at this, “Must you insist on calling me my lady. I am hardly that”

“Alright then, what is your name”

Her eyes sparkle with mischief and he watched her lips form into a smile, “Y/N”

“Well then, y/n” he nods at the mention of her name, “Thank you. I suppose I must be going”

Almost as quickly as Aemond went to get up, her now warmed hand was flat on his bare chest to push him back, propped up by the headboard.

“I would stay a while. Too much movement after such an adjustment can be even more painful”

Aemond eyed the hand that was still placed flat on his chest and could not help but send a knowing smirk in her direction. Her lips were parted as she watched her own fingers drag across his skin, seating herself next to him on the bed.

“Have I seen you somewhere?” she asks, “on the Street of Silk perhaps?”

He shakes his head, scoffing with an annoyed smile, grunting through the last layers of pain, “That would be my brother”

“So you are the other” she says, eyes boring into his form below her, casting a shadow over his body, “Prince Aemond”

He fights the urge to scoff again, “I half-thought you did not know who I was”

“Well you half-thought wrong. How many one-eyed, silver-haired men do you think come strolling past my cottage on the average day?”

“Not enough”

She turned to him with a cocked brow and a lob-sided smile, letting out a short burst of a laugh at his unexpected quip.

“I envy you Targaryens. You do not come up short on confidence”

“Mmhm…luck on the other hand”

He admires the way her eyes crinkle up when he makes a quip that tickles her and he finds himself wanting to do it again. But he simply sits there, eye looking down at her and admiring the way her tied up hair looks, the wavy tresses that sit beside her face, framing her interesting features.

She takes his empty cup from his hand, painfully oblivious to the lustful stare he gives her as she walks away having brushed her soft hands on his. Her touch burned on his skin and the further she walked away from him, the more he wanted that feeling to return and sit to burn in places that were forbidden to pass his lips. But she saw none of this internal struggle as she washed the two cups they had both used in the small sink before her.

“You may stay if you like. I will sleep in this room so you can be more comfortable” she says, scrubbing the cups.

As well as this new found desire, Aemond found himself drawn from the bed to her back. All the memories of pain long forgotten. But that feeling coupled with her deep caring nature, especially having only just met him. He could even feel himself getting unfathomably hard at the memory of her at his back, and how her tits would have looked pressed against it.

It was a shock she had not realised he was directly behind her.

“I will get you some salve-” her sentence was interrupted by Aemond’s hands resting at her waist, his fingers splayed out to feel any warmth on her skin. He could feel the way her ribs moved as she took a sharp breath in to steady herself and every single hair on her arms stood on end, as if in the presence of a predator.

“Say the word and I will leave” his voice was so close she could feel his breath against her neck and her hands gripped the surface of the table before her, needing somewhere to place this feeling of his body pushed against her in the most delicious manner.

Swallowing shallowly, she inadvertently pushed her ass against his body earning something halfway between a breath and a growl from Aemond.

When he understood that she would not say anything, his hand ventured to her hips to grip at the clothing that was bunched up there. The other hand wrapped further around her torso with ease, tracing the contour underneath her breast, and her eyes broke closed, wanting him to just touch her properly already.

“What are you doing…” she asked in a quiet whisper., “...you should not be moving”

A smirk tugged at Aemond’s lips, “Thanking you, for taking such good care of me”

He pulled up the skirts to her hips, letting a breathy moan out at finally touching her skin. His fingers lingered there, daring to dip in that valley between her legs, where he knew she would simply crumble.

“Now I wish to take care of you”

Her head landed softly against his bare chest when his fingers dipped before her aching heat, collecting the wetness on his fingers to spread around her waiting bud. He could feel her body in his arms sag with need,

“Have my mere words made you this wet?”

She could not and need not respond to his question as his middle finger prodded at her cunt, requesting entry and the sensation made her cry out in such desperation that her hand gripped at his thigh. Wishing that he would not taunt her in this way.

“Please…” she could barely believe the words that were passing her own lips.

“Please, what” his voice was stern which made her ache even more.

“I am no virgin, please just…do it”

Aemond scoffed, still circling her sensitive bud with the pad of his finger, the other hand was busy also fondling her breast and finding the hardened nipple underneath the linen dress. Her little outburst had sparked something deep inside of him and his hand squeezed her breast so tight as if to punish her, that she let out a pathetic whine.

“You dare to command a Prince…” his fingers once again were drawn to her hot centre. His cock twitched as she gripped at his thigh for dear life and the mere thought of his cock being squeezed in her delicate body sent a hot twinge down his spine, “...just because you are no virgin, I cannot take my time with you?”

Aemond let her breast free, pulling at the hardened nipple as he did so and she could not help the stifled moan that escaped her as his hand traveled up her chest to wrap his large slender fingers around her neck and give a soft squeeze.

“We are the only two people for some miles, I want to hear you”

She could feel the rumble of his words with his mouth next to her ear. She nodded with eyes still firmly shut.

“Speak” he ordered.

“Yes” the words came out ragged and troubled and all Aemond did was laugh at her attempt of composure.

“Sȳz”

He almost came in his breeches with her voice alone once he sank two fingers into her tight, hot cunt. She was tight. The mere thought of how tight she would feel around his cock gave him more pleasure than he had found in months. But he would treat her right, get her prepared for him, hoping that she would struggle to walk the next morning.

He pumped his hands into her with ease, each drag through her walls earning a moan drawn beautifully from her lips and he gave her neck a loving squeeze, wordlessly ordering her to open her eyes. The look she gave him as he stared down and fucked her with his fingers mercilessly was one of artistic measure, he then thought. Someone should paint the expression she was giving him, as if this were the most right and yet the most wrong thing at the same time.

He guided her to him, slotting his lips against hers while his fingers made light work of her. He could feel the way her legs were starting to sway, she was close. The notion of her pleasure alone made him smirk against her, accepting her invitation of her tongue and slipping a third finger into her.

A muffled moan spilled into his mouth and he knew she would not last much longer. From this angle it was easy for his thumb to slide over her clit, applying just enough pressure to send her head into a dizzying frenzy. Several moans spilling from her mouth as her hand gripped his wrist, the unformidable gush of pleasure making its way through her core as her orgasm ripped through her.

“That’s it…” he cooed at her ear, still fucking her but slowly and careful to not overstimulate her. There was still time for that.

Once he felt her grip on his wrist soften, he pulled away from her cunt, the wetness still stuck to his fingers. She seemed to whine softly at the loss of his touch until he placed his fingers to her lips, a prospect which she accepted wordlessly and she moaned against his fingers as Aemond shoved his fingers down her throat.

Aemond found himself painfully hard purely by just watching her. She pulled her lips from his fingers and looked up at Aemond through her eyelashes, making sure her ass jutted out against his erection, smiling when he closed his eyes to hold back.

“Are you sure I’ve not seen you on the Street of Silk before?”

Without a word, Aemond’s grip came to her forearms to unceremoniously throw her to the bed, allowing her delicate form to bounce on the mattress, hair splayed across the covers and that damn flushed face that made Aemond just want to keep her to himself.

He stared down at her from between her legs which were hanging off the bed. For a person with only one eye, he could emote his feelings very well. But this look he gave her was unreadable and practically dripped with eroticism as he untied the strings that held his breeches together. She flushed even more when she looked to his crotch to see his erection squeezed by the tight restraints of his leathers, even more so at the size of it before even having properly seen it. She pushed her thighs together to contain the throb of her clit at the man before her.

“I am no depraved man. I do not take what is not freely given to me”

Her eyes went to his and a playful smirk made its way to her face, sensing a challenge ahead of her.

“And I am freely given to you?”

Challenge accepted, he smirked down at her, “Unless you want me to leave?”

She bit her lip, knowing he was simply toying with her. He would not leave with such a pain between his legs, otherwise he would bitterley regret it.

“You are depraved for suggesting such a thing”

She got to her knees on the bed, her eyes boring back into Aemond’s as he stood with his breeches half undone and simply watching her delicate fingers pull at the fastenings on her dress. It was painfully slow, the way the strings fell from her and Aemond took a deep breath at the sight of her shoulders peeking out from beneath the fabric.

She pulled the dress slowly down her chest, knowing it was tormenting Aemond inside at how slow she was being. And when her dress pulled over her nipples and her breasts bounced out of her clothing, Aemond breathed out audibly, one hand on his cock to ease some of the needing sensation in it.

She watched his every reaction as she pushed the dress past her hips, allowing Aemond to see every curve, line, scar and dimple of her body. He had been so lost in watching all the shadows of her form that when she placed a warm hand against his leather-clad erection, gently squeezing his girth, he almost moaned out loud.

Aemond couldn’t look at her anymore, for the fear of climaxing right away he wasn’t sure. But he knew that she was watching every reaction from him with his eye softly closed, mouth slightly open to allow any delicious moans escape him.

And they certainly did as she pulled his breeches from his hips and he was completely naked before her. He felt the slightly cooler air hit his newly exposed skin and sighed quietly, feeling his cock freed finally giving some semblance of relief.

Her small hand gripped the base of his cock and Aemond bit his lip, cock twitching at the anticipation of her touch and she instantly began pumping him, her thumb passing that sensitive spot at the slit and using her thumb to smear precum over his alarmingly bright tip, just aching for attention.

A low growl filled his throat with her ministrations and he knew she was smirking up at him, relishing in the knowledge that she was making him feel utterly heavenly. But all recollection of control swiftly disappeared when he felt the lewd, wet stripe she had painted with her tongue from the base to stop just before his slit. He needed her mouth at his tip. Just needed it. And when she pulled away before reaching there, he looked down at her and thought her the most beautiful thing in Westeros at that very moment.

“Who knew that the fearsome Prince Aemond could be tamed by a mere woman…” her voice was hot against his cock and he clenched his fists into a ball, the burning desire to just shove his cock down her throat just too strong.

“Fuck…please…”

She didn’t need to be asked twice, which he would eventually reward her for, and her mouth enveloped his tip with an infuriatingly addictive warmth. It was a surprise he didn’t come on the spot and the gasp that escaped him made him think he would have done, feeling her soft lips take him so well and venture down the length of him. Her tongue massaged his tip, swirling that sensitive spot around with such ease it made Aemond’s brows furrow together.

It was a never ending surprise, the things she did to him, as she continued to take him into her mouth all the way down to the curled hair at the base, sheathing him within her completely so much so that the tip prodded at the back of her throat. Aemond stifled a moan, and without control of himself ran his fingers through her hair to grip at the locks there, needing somewhere to place this desire for her to completely sate him.

She was apparently tired of waiting and so began slowly lifting her lips up and down his shaft, tongue dragging along the bottom to earn more addictive moans from Aemond. Never in his life had he felt such pleasure without penetrative sex. Knowing how good she was at taking him now, he felt impossibly harder at the prospect of what lies between her pretty thighs.

He felt himself begin to thrust into her mouth with her rhythm and his head fell back slightly at the feeling of her quiet moans sending vibrations through him, perhaps it was the knowledge that she was enjoying watching the pleasure she gave him. And this turned out to be true and he smirked seeing her hand between her legs. But he knew. She was already wet enough for him.

“Fuck…” were the only words that passed his lips as she took him down her throat, needing him deep inside her. Her speed increased and her hand was pumping the parts of him that she could not get in her mouth, only serving to increase the intensity of Aemond’s groans of pleasure. The hand that was fisted in her hair, was now pushing her head against him in line with his thrusts. Her breasts bounced against him. It was too late to hold back now.

Shockingly, she stayed planted firmly on his cock, still swirling her tongue around his slit when he came in her mouth. A string of profanities in both the common tongue and his mother tongue spilling from his mouth as his strong, firm hand pushed her face against him. But she seemed not to resist and instead moaned out with those vibrations again, at the feeling of his seed coating her mouth.

They remained this way for merely a moment before she retracted from him, a string of saliva and cum connecting the two. Aemond made a sinfully lewd noise as he watched her throat contract, swallowing every bit of him, all while those eyes stared up at him, darkened and lustful. But there is a tender whisper of a moment there, as his thumb brushes against her pinkened lips and a smile graces her face.

All at once, Aemond has her back at the bed, his own form propped above her and his lips delivering light kisses at her chest to her breasts. Pausing to look up at her, his tongue flicks out to take a nipple into his mouth, giving a light bite that makes her back arch up into him. From this angle, her cunt touches his softened cock ever so lightly, and even this contact is enough to have her gasp out.

“Aemond…” she breathes, craving that feeling even more now that he has made her wait, “...what are you doing…”

She hardly realised the question passed her and certainly expected no reply.

He let out a low chuckle and kissed the sensitive space between her neck and ear, close enough to whisper.

“Oh, you think I am finished with you?” he asked and those gorgeous eyes looked back at him, half-lust and half-confusion until she felt that he was hard yet again against her cunt. Subconsciously her hip jutted up into him, briefly prodding against his once again weeping tip and Aemond had to close his eyes and find the will somewhere within him. To pull him back from simply shoving his cock into her as deep as he could.

But she deserved to feel every inch of him, he thought. She deserved to at least savour the feeling of his cock slowly making its way through her for a moment. At least, before he would fuck her mercilessly after.

She gasped at the realised that he was hard again and with the threat that he wasn’t finished with her, she felt the excitement settle between her legs and electrified into her clit. Aemond grasped his cock once against and placed it there, thrusting up to collect her wetness on him.

“Look at you…” his mouth was next to her ear again, hot breath fanning across her and even that seemed to tease a moan from her own, “...whoever you were with before didn’t make you this wet, did they”

She shook her head softly, her hips meeting his once again, wanting him to just be inside her.

A surprised sound escaped her when his hand clamped around her throat once again, but it was forceful this time and his look even more so.

“Answer me”

She found it difficult to find her voice with his cock so hard between her legs, threatening to split her open, “No…please Aemond…”

He smirked at her begging. It was like music to his ears.

In one swift motion, he sheathed himself inside of her and he moaned loudly beside her. Her walls squeezed him like a vice, but one he was happy to be enveloped by. She was warm and wet and her previous release covered his shaft, so it was easy to slide right into her, leaving some gap between his hips and hers still.

At the feeling of him filling her, a sharp gasp left her through her constricted airway. It was not difficult to breathe, but the fingers around her throat seemed to escalate the already euphoric feeling. Her hands came to his shoulders, her right immediately faltering once she realised that it had been his bad arm and her eyes softened at his gaze in an apology. But he shook his head, it did not hurt anymore.

He bottomed inside of her, his tip prodding against the spongy flesh of her cervix and he smiled in the knowledge he was filling her completely. But also at the furrowed expression she had on her face and the notion her legs widened ever so slightly to accommodate him.

“You know I am no virgin” she said matter-of-factly, sparking a brief interest in his eye, “get on with it then”

She smirked up at him, feeling mischievous, “make good on your promise, Prince Aemond”

And that was all it took to make Aemond tighten his grip on her neck, choking her slightly before dragging his cock from her to slam into her once again. That was it. She had asked for it and she would get it. She had dared to poke the dragon and now had to deal with the consequences, including that she would not leave the bed all evening.

She whined and tightened her grip on him as Aemond pounded forcefully into her cunt, his hands found their spot at her hips, pushing down on them to find that new spot inside of her that made her eyes screw shut. Her nails dug into his shoulders and arms, a reminder for the morning that this had all in fact not been a dream.

“I still want to hear you” he ordered, delivering a firm slap to her buttock and then grabbing the raw skin afterwards. This alone is enough to earn him a delicious moan from her. Gods, he was addicted to the sounds she made. He would have to force her to make more.

She seemed to take his words to heart and when his palm lay flat on her abdomen to feel the presence of his cock within her, she moaned louder and louder as it hit a new spot within her. Aemond chuckled darkly

“Has anyone made you feel this good, hm?” he asked between breaths and your eyes were on him again and for a moment, the air seemed to die in his throat.

“No…no, you feel so good-ah..” he cut her off with one particularly hard thrust, “...you’re so big…I..”

“Don’t you dare cum yet”

“Please…Aemond…”

“No” he replied sternly.

In an instant he had her flipped over and while she momentarily whined at the loss of feeling his cock was giving her, she squealed in surprise when he had her pressed against the bed, hand in her hair pulling at it. He stuffed her cunt with him once again, the new angle providing Aemond with a new feeling and he moaned out loud, pushing the hair over her back to see her face better.

“Fuck…you’re so tight…” he moaned out, pulling one of her legs over him to somehow sink deeper into her with his savage thrusting. He could see her hands fisted into the bed covers, her face screwed up and searching for release.

His large hands gripped at the soft flesh of her ass, leaving marks that he knew would surely last. She needed to remember this, he thought. He pulled her up by her hair so her back was flush with his chest, thrusting up to meet her cunt with every push. As if by habit, his hand was at her neck once again, his other coming to her front to circle her sensitive bud. She almost screamed out with the feeling, already anticipating the flood of release escape her.

But remembering his words, she turned up to look at him, face pink in the exercise of their acts. He was flushed too, that facade of power slowly dripping away and replaced with pure bliss at her cunt fluttering around him. Already knowing how close she was.

“Aemond…I-”

“I know, sweet girl…let go for me”

The sheer sound of his voice was enough to send her over the edge. He continued to rub at her clit, intent on making sure she received several crashes of pleasure through her aching body. His name barely escaped her as her release rushed through her, sending shock through her hips and making her shake before him. And had she been watching herself, she might have felt embarrassed. But with Aemond’s cock inside her and his fingers squeezing her throat ever tighter, she could not have cared less.

“Sȳz…” he cooed against her again, all while his own release threatened to spill into her.

The waves of an orgasm ripped through her and once they had subsided and her release coated the base of his cock, Aemond half-thought to slip himself out of her. At least until her ass bucked back into him and his tip prodded against her cervix again, making her cunt tighten around him. By then it had been too late.

He moaned loudly into her ear, fingers dug into the sensitive skin at her neck, cutting off her air completely. Not that she seemed to mind. Her hand came to his body to pull him closer to her and he spilled his seed inside her, coating her walls with his thick cum and she sighed in contentment, while he let out a shattered breath at her warmth taking him so well.

Eventually, his grip on her neck softened and he could not hear her labored breathing and how her body sank against his own. He body softly placed against his as his chest rose and fall quickly. He swore he could feel her rapid heartbeat through her cunt, squeezing around him with the rhythm of it.

“I-” Aemond went to say something, but by his surprise her lips had been slotted against his as she reached up. He had to say he was quite shocked by it, but he did not push away and accepted the warm embrace of her lips affectionately.

When he pulled away, he smiled at the look on her face.

“I am sorry…” he started.

“For what”

“My seed…”

The quick whips of panic flared at the back of his neck at the prospect of fathering bastards. And he sent her a confused glance as she merely chuckled weakly,

“I have moon tea, do not worry”

Phew.

“Everyone knows how much you hate bastards” she winks.

The quip makes him smile and as she goes to get up only to be pulled back by his strong hand on her arm, she looked back confusedly.

“What?” she asks.

“You think I am finished with you?”

A flash of half-surprise and half-concern passes her face once she feels him harden inside her once again.

And the prince made good on his promise that night. Thanking her for taking care of him so well through the means of multiple orgasms. They must have been at it until early in the morning, noting that they only had a few hours of sleep before the sun threatened to appear over the horizon. Aemond had scarcely wanted to leave, feeling completely at ease in the bed with her limp, spent form laying on top of him.

She was kind and able enough after the night’s activities to feed him once again before he took his leave, thankful at least that his horse had gotten quite bored of wandering the dark woods alone and had returned to the only civilized place it could find. Which happened to be her home.

Once high on his horse, Aemond looked back to the woman stood against the door of her cottage, a contagious smile on his face and the desire to constantly look back until she was out of view. Remembering the way the morning sun shone through her messed locks and the shawl that was pulled tight about her body.

Alicent did indeed scold the two other men with Aemond at the time of his injury, earning much amusement from the Prince.

But it didn’t deter him from going hunting once again, this time, alone.

In fact, he rather enjoyed hunting now.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

782 notes · View notes

writemywaytoyourheart · 1 year ago

Text

Bedeviled | Chapter 13: trustfall

Pairing: demon!jungkook x female reader

Genre: romance, drama, angst, horror

WC: 9.9k

Warnings for this chapter: strong language, anxiety, blood, injuries, frightening depictions of Hell and those in it, frightening/disturbing scenes, graphic gore, read at your own risk

Previous, ML

Arms held out in front of you, you walked slowly, cautiously.

It was a lot darker than you anticipated.

Your wings were tucked up safely and covered by your cardigan, although they were already beginning to feel a bit sore and achy from being cooped up for the miniscule amount of time it had already been.

There were small areas of forest where the blood red sky shone through the leaves and illuminated the burnt bark of trees that you passed by. You’d quickly begun to get confused with how long it had been. It couldn’t have been more than half an hour since you went into the forest.

Just as you were about to stop to try and gather your thoughts, you saw a tall dark figure walking just ahead.

It was coming right towards you.

Quickly, you ducked behind a thick trunk, careful not to touch the heated bark.

In your panicked haste, you tripped; cringing at the sound of a twig snapping under your right foot.

A dead silence fell.

After a moment, you flinched at the sound of a deep voice, laced with amused irritation.

“I can hear you breathing.”

Shoot.

You gulped, bringing a hand up to your mouth.

Shifting a little, you nearly groaned aloud when you stepped on another twig and broke that one too.

The snap echoed around in the otherwise quiet forest.

Another moment passed before you realized there was nothing else to do but reveal yourself.

Slowly, with your mind spinning a quick story, you stepped out from behind the trunk.

Only ten feet ahead, the figure stood there, dark and silent.

You gulped, eyes wide as you tried to see in the darkness.

“Sorry, I uh- I didn’t mean to startle you.”

It’s silent for another few breathless seconds, then the figure speaks again.

It was a demon, right? It had to be.

You hoped they’d let you talk before having their fun with you.

“Who said you startled me?”

Your brows furrowed at the voice.

It sounded familiar.

But it couldn’t be.

Impossible.

You finally shrugged slowly, “I guess I just assumed I did.”

The silhouette came closer, their footsteps practically undetectable as they moved silently.

“And what, pray tell, is a human doing this close to the entrance of the Underworld?”

A sliver of red light shining through the leaves fell on the newcomer as he stepped even closer to you.

As the ghostly light finally illuminated the demon’s face, your heart stopped in your chest and you froze. It felt like the entire world had frozen right along with you as you could do nothing but stare, wide-eyed, at the sight in front of you.

His black hair was shorter than it used to be, only just reaching his chin in soft waves.

It was as if the passing of time hadn’t occurred.

As if only five days came and went since you saw him last, not five hundred years.

Dark brown eyes that were once full of love stared at you with an emptiness so prominent there was a visceral horror in your gut that almost broke you right then and there.

The love of your life was standing right in front of you, after half a millennium.

You couldn’t move.

You couldn’t speak.

He truly looked no different besides a dark hardness surrounding him that made him look almost unrecognizable, no matter how similar he appeared to the last you spoke with him.

Your stomach turned.

“What’s the matter, doll? Devil got your tongue?”

It felt like a large stone was shoved down your throat, choking you to death and rendering you incapable of speech.

He chuckled.

The sound made your heart lurch as your eyes fell on the tattoos covering his skin.

When they landed on the rose, you ground your teeth harshly together.

Focus, ____.

Don’t mess it up, not now.

“What’s your name, little human?”

You promised, ____.

Do… not… mess… it… up… now...

Even if it took every last bit of strength out of you, you would resist.

You snapped out of it and took a step back.

No matter what happened from then on, you were not going to give up on him.

You would not fail him.

________________________________

You drag your eyes away from the apple tattooed above his heart, all the way up to his face.

He’s staring at you in bewilderment, his dark eyes squinted as he watches you closely, as if anticipating you blowing up again.

Swallowing thickly, you drop your gaze to the boots still clutched in your shaking hands.

You haven’t once been able to look at him for long.

There’s no knowing the amount of time you’ve been in Hell, it could be weeks or even months.

It doesn’t matter.

You will never be able to look him in the eyes without your heart breaking.

The first moment you saw him, at the gate, you knew it would never stop hurting.

The way he still looks at you without an ounce of recognition makes you sick.

You had lost it there for a moment and done something foolish, thinking maybe if he touched something that used to be his, he would remember the life he once had.

He would remember Aera.

He would remember you.

Give me strength.

You set the tiny boots back into the chest, something else catching your eye as you do so.

JK watches silently as you stand up, still not looking at him.

“Please,” You whisper, “Can we not be here anymore?”

“What just happened?” He asks coldly.

“I’d like to leave.”

“Not until you tell me why you just went fucking psycho and tore this place to shreds.”

You close your eyes and take a shuddering breath, “I don’t want to be here-”

“Too bad,” he snaps, “Answer me.”

“I-” You gulp, hands beginning to shake again as you stand there and stare at a broken beer bottle on the ground, “Please-”

JK stalks across the room, his height well above yours as you try your best not to look at him when he whispers angrily, “What are you so fucking afraid of?”

Your chest rises and falls with quick breaths.

It’s too stuffy here.

“JK, please-”

“Say it.”

“I ca-” Tears build in your eyes, a hand moving to your chest, “I can’t breathe i- in here, please-”

He sighs sharply, irritated.

His eyes take in your current state; still slightly sweaty, hair a mess, small welts running along your arms and legs, and more bruises and cuts than one could count. Your exhausted face is filled with anxiety and something else he can’t place.

The demon sighs again, but this time it isn’t as aggressive.

“Let’s go.”

You look at him, relief clear in your eyes.

He forces himself to look away after a second.

“Thank you-”

“Come on,” he snaps, turning and walking towards the door.

The second you step out behind him, you once again see the blood red sky and perpetual smoke filling the air.

You’ve always had the strength.

Now, you just need to believe it.

Taking a deep breath, you follow him out, shutting the door of your past life behind you.

Only for a second, you look back to see it one last time.

But it’s gone.

There’s nothing but mounds of dirt and weeds.

Closing your eyes, you will the tears not to come.

You are so close, you can feel it.

Now is not the time to ruin everything, as much as you want to fall to the ground and sob.

Ever since you first came face to face with him, it has been a nonstop battle not to crumple and beg on your knees for him to please know you, to cry your heart out and plead for him to remember.

“So? What happened?”

You turn away from the piles of dirt and look at him.

“Is this what you want?”

He looks at you in confusion, “What are you talking about?”

You clear your throat, “In exchange for you explaining the tattoos. You said you would think about what you want from me.”

JK scoffs, “Really? You think I’d fall for something so easy?”

“Your choice,” You walk around him.

“You know I could-”

“Torture it out of me?” You turn and look at him again.

Then you walk forward and grab his hand, noting how he doesn’t pull away.

You put his larger hand on your chest, close to your throat, “Do it.”

“What?” His voice is barely above a whisper.

“You want to know all my secrets?” You speak softly, eyes locked on his, “Then hurt me. Tear it out of me, however you want to do it.”

He doesn’t say anything.

Doesn’t move his hand either, even when you’ve taken yours away from his wrist.

“Afraid I can use His name against you?” You mumble, “Don’t be. I won’t say a word. Not until you rip what you want to know out of me.”

“What are you doing-”

“I’m giving you permission.”

His eyes widen slightly, but you don’t look away.

“I’m giving you permission to hurt me JK, to torture me in any way that you want, until you’re satisfied.”

Even though your eyes stay locked on his, you can feel the slight tremble of his fingers on your skin.

His eyes fall to where his hand rests on your chest.

JK takes a deep breath.

Everything inside is telling him to do it, to choke you, to force you to speak by whatever means, to hurt you in any way he can.

He’s capable.

He always has been.

“Do it.”

Your soft voice makes him gulp as he stares at his hand.

Do it.

Hurt her.

It would be so easy.

So easy to break her.

You watch closely as he gulps.

After a minute, a sharp intake of breath leaves him and he pulls his hand away.

“I don’t have time for this bullshit,” He chokes out, “Stop wasting what little I do have.”

When he turns and starts walking away, you let out the breath you were holding, hand cupping your throat gently before you watch his back as he walks off.

A small smile tugs at your lips, a tear sliding down your cheek.

You quickly wipe your eyes, then hurry after him.

You’re not really sure where you are.

It’s clear you are no longer in the seventh circle, but you don’t think this is the eighth circle either.

All you can see is the blood red sky, black smoke thick in the air, and nothing but a wide expanse of dirt that you walk along.

He stays silent as you walk, which is expected.

Every time you seem to rattle him he broods for a while before inevitably calming down again.

For the first time, it doesn’t bother you too much.

He didn’t hurt you.

That’s the one thing in your mind that you hold onto as you limp along slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth despite the pain in every part of your body, inside and out.

He didn’t hurt me.

You look up and see that you’ve almost caught up to him.

He had been a lot further ahead than you for a while, how did you suddenly catch up after not changing your pace at all?

That’s when you realize that he must have been the one to change his pace.

For whatever reason, he slowed down enough for you to get closer.

He still faces forward, not acknowledging your presence whatsoever even as you come up beside him, still very much limping.

You two walk in silence for a while.

“You’re taking forever.”

You smile to yourself at his sudden grumpy comment.

It’s about time.

“What else is new?” You joke softly, looking at him.

There’s a tiny smirk on his face as he drops his head, then looks at you, still walking.

Amusement is clear in his dark eyes as he observes you.

When your smile grows a little, you see the amusement drain from his gaze before he turns to face forward again.

“So,” You look down at your feet, noticing how different they are compared to his.

His feet are clad in sleek black boots, not a single falter in his steps. Yours are bare apart from tattered cloth stained with blood and dirt and sweat, the rough ground unforgiving on the unsteady appendages.

Oh, well.

“So?” He presses in annoyance after you never finish your sentence.

“I’m not sure if I ought to say…”

“Let me help you decide,” He says snarkily, voice pitched higher, “You ought to finish saying what it was you were going to say before I lose my patience with you.”

You roll your eyes.

“I was just going to ask where we are. It’s not like you’re going to answer me anyway though,” You grumble, “You never answer anything I ask with simple explanations.”

JK barks out a laugh at that but doesn’t respond to what you wanted to know.

After a moment, you sigh.

“See? I told you so.”

“Someone’s impatient.”

“Says you,” You scoff, “The one that threatens to torture me any time I don’t do what he wants.”

He raises a single brow as he turns in your direction, but you’re too busy looking at the barren wasteland ahead to see him.

JK sighs quietly and looks forward, once again falling into silence.

“Ok, but like actually-”

The sound of his laughter at your sudden words after it being quiet for so long makes you smile.

“-where are we?” You finish.

“You don’t like silence do you?” He asks, looking down at you.

You swallow, dragging your gaze from his; not noticing how he doesn’t look away.

“I guess not,” You say softly.

“Why not?” He asks, seeming genuinely curious.

“You know,” Your eyes linger on a burnt twig as you approach it, then continue on past, “You’re really good at asking questions. Terrible at answering them.”

“I don’t see that as an insult.”

“It wasn’t meant to be,” You laugh.

He shrugs, “Maybe I’m not terrible at answering, maybe you just suck at coming up with good questions.”

“You think my questions are too boring to answer?” You ask in disbelief.

“I think you’re just asking the wrong ones.”

“And by that you mean…?”

“I rest my case.”

You shake your head, “Not answering questions just means you have a lot more to hide than you want me to believe.”

“And what about you, little mortal?”

“What about me?”

The demon stops, making you halt as well, wincing a little at the pain in your right ankle that’s been flaring up for a while now.

He steps closer, but you don’t move away.

“How much are you hiding from me?”

You stare back at him steadily before whispering, your voice even despite the hushed tone.

“Absolutely everything.”

There’s a flash of something in his eyes, but it’s subtle and passes too quickly to catch.

He takes another step towards you, and another, until he’s only two hands length away from your face.

If you reached out, you could touch him.

You wonder briefly if his cheeks would feel the same as they once did, only colder now.

“You’re truly a piece of work,” He whispers back, but there’s no undertone of malice in his voice as there has been most of your time here, “Do you realize that?”

“Never doubted I was,” You respond, “Didn’t think I could so easily get under the skin of a demon though, I won’t lie.”

He chuckles lowly, shaking his head at your words.

“Do you ever tire of being so incredibly annoying all the time?”

“I’m not sure,” You smirk, “Do you ever tire of fighting back?”

His dark eyes flicker between yours.

“No.”

“So, JK,” Your voice has dropped to a low whisper, “How much are you hiding from me?”

You keep your eyes on him as he moves closer.

For a moment, you think he’s going to whisper in your ear, but he doesn’t, he just keeps coming towards your mouth, head tilted slightly.

That’s when you think he’s going to kiss you.

Your stomach flips over when he stops, his lips a mere inch from yours as he whispers, his icy breath going past your parted lips and into your mouth as your eyes flutter closed.

“Absolutely everything.”

The demon pulls away just as you open your eyes again, an evil smirk planted on his stupidly beautiful mouth.

You gulp, which makes him chuckle darkly.

“If you’re gonna play the game, doll,” His pretty eyes look large and innocent, yet clearly mocking. A cold slender finger runs along your jaw before flicking off your chin, “At least try to win.”

You bite your lip, which draws his gaze there momentarily before it flickers away quickly.

He turns and walks a few paces away, “How do you feel about taking a break?”

You stand frozen for another moment before gulping and nodding stupidly, “Good, gre- great. I mean, sure… fine.”

“Careful doll, your weakness for pretty things is showing.”

Of course he knows how pretty he is.

Gosh darn it.

It seems like just when you think you have the upper hand, he flips the board just to show you that he’s been in the lead the entire time and will continue to be no matter what you do.

You sigh and walk over to sit on the spot of dirt that has the least amount of twigs.

Not that it’s much comfier than any other spots.

JK glances at you briefly, watching as you put your chin in your hands and sigh softly.

He turns away and sits on the ground across from you, less than ten feet away.

You stare at the thick black clouds of smoke in the sky, wondering if you stared hard enough if there would be a glimpse of the sun.

Or a star.

Or anything.

You already know you won’t, you can’t help but pretend though.

The loud crackling sound and sudden warmth makes you jump before staring wide-eyed at the bright fire that appeared in front of you.

Letting out a slow breath, you touch a hand to your chest to calm your racing heart.

Across the fire, you see him.

He’s sitting cross-legged, staring at the fire, not a single thought behind his eyes.

Is he even aware of making the fire just now?

After another few moments of silence, you see his pretty eyes drift up to look at you from across the red flames.

Neither of you says a word for almost a full minute.

“Why?” You finally whisper, voice cracking a little after not using it.

He tilts his head in question, wanting to know what you’re asking.

“Why would either of us want a fire in the middle of Hell?” Your voice is still soft, but there’s a teasing lilt to it, “This is the hottest place to ever exist. Yet, you make them all the time…why?”

His eyes fall to his clasped hands and you see a faint smile appear before he bites his bottom lip, then shrugs and mumbles, “Just bored I guess-”

“Liar.”

His eyes raise to yours again.

It’s quiet save the crackling flames trying to lick their way into the sky.

You can’t blame them.

How unfair it would be to be one of nature’s most powerful forces, yet be stuck on the ground, confined in one place while your brethren, the brilliant stars, get to shine in the sky for the whole world to see.

What a terrible luck to be drawn.

You’d want to join the stars too.

“I don’t know.”

You’re jolted back to the present at the sound of his uncharacteristically soft voice.

He’s no longer looking at you, but at the fire again.

“I don’t know why I do it, okay? I just-...I don’t know. Is that a good enough answer for you?” He asks bitterly, picking at one of his fingernails and gnawing his lip.

“Yes.”

He looks up at you in surprise, but now you’re the one entranced by the dancing flames.

“Are you being facetious?” He asks suspiciously.

The demon watches in confusion as a small smile plays on your lips and you shake your head, “No, I’m not.”

“Oh.”

When you lift your eyes again, they meet his.

“It’s okay not to know the answer to something,” You say gently, “It’s okay not having a reason. I was just curious. ‘I don’t know’ is as good an answer as any.”

He says nothing, just darts his eyes away, seeming more unsure than you’ve seen him since coming to Hell. There’s not a single flicker of smug entitlement in his pretty eyes.

When you stand up, his gaze follows your movement without looking directly at you.

You wince a little at the ache in your ankle that won’t go away when you put weight on it. You’re not sure when you hurt it, but it feels like it was twisted terribly.

He doesn’t say a word when you sit next to him.

“I like fires too.”

The demon finally looks at you.

“Why?”

You keep your eyes forward, not letting yourself look at him just yet.

You’re not sure you can handle it.

“They’ve always been a source of comfort for me. And believe me, I can use all the comfort I‘m able to get in this place.”

He chuckles dryly at that.

A beat of silence passes before you hear him speak up.

“Why don’t you like it when it’s quiet?”

You can feel his gaze but don’t turn to look at him.

“You’re always trying to fill the silence, even if it means just mumbling songs to yourself,” He continues, voice still too soft to sound much like him, “I don’t get it.”

Bringing your hand up to your mouth, you nibble on the tip of your right thumb.

“Silence reminds me of something I don’t like remembering.”

It only takes a moment for him to respond, “What’s that?”

You give him a side glance, then go back to chewing on your thumbnail nervously.

“Being alone.”

JK’s mind flits back to when you were in the shed, before you woke up.

You were talking in your sleep, begging someone not to leave you.

He gulps.

“I prefer being alone,” He finally whispers, grabbing a stick from the ground and leaning forward to toss it into the fire. The flames spark a little before calming once more.

“We don’t-…”

He turns his head to look at you when you speak.

“We don’t have to be enemies,” You whisper gently, “We both want something and we need each other to get it.”

JK examines the almost forced numb expression on your face, the light of the fire shining an orange glow across your soft skin.

He blinks slowly, unaware of the gentle pull he feels as he looks at you.

“I don’t need you,” He says, but his eyes do not move from your face, “I don’t need anyone.”

The demon watches as your eyes become wet with tears, a sad smile on your lips; you’re still not facing him.

“You might not need me,” You finally turn your head to look at him, eyes still full of unshed tears, even so, he can’t stop looking into them, “But I definitely need you.”

The breath gets caught in his chest at your words.

Don’t overthink it, you idiot.

Of course she needs you, how else would she get that Flame to help her stupid best friend?

He swallows thickly and looks away, “Whatever, mortal.”

You shift to get more comfortable, pulling your right leg out in front of you.

A beat of silence passes.

“You’re hurt.”

“Ah, you’ve finally noticed,” You joke, spreading out your arms to display all the injuries thus far, but he doesn’t seem amused.

“Your ankle.”

“Oh,” You look at it to see it looks a bit swollen.

“I must have sprained it at some point-... twisted it in the seventh circle or something, it’s not serious-”

“Give me your leg.”

“Listen man,” You hold your hands up, palms splayed out, “You’ve already got two, don’t go and start telling me you need a third, cause I’m generous but not that generous-”

“You’re an idiot,” He snaps, moving forward to snatch your leg and move it into his lap, startling you into speechlessness.

His eyes seem to darken more than usual as he looks at your sore ankle.

You’re too busy fighting the heat creeping into your cheeks at the cold touch of his fingers that run up and down the slightly swollen skin.

The last time he did that, it didn’t last long before he was leaning over you, mouth pressed to yours as his hands gently took off your clothes, one piece at a time.

Your eyes widen and you move to pull your foot back, but he snaps something at you again, you can’t hear what it is though.

Something about not being a fool and sitting still before he knocks you out cold.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath-

“Ah!” You flinch, instinctively reaching down to push him away.

“Oh don’t be so dramatic,” He mumbles, continuing to press around your ankle, waiting for each reaction of pain before nodding with satisfaction and reaching over to tear a chunk off of his silky black shirt.

“You’re-” You grind your teeth as he ungracefully wraps your ankle and foot with the piece of torn cloth, tightly, “You’re a jerk.”

The demon scoffs, “Am I not helping you right now?”

You roll your eyes, wincing once more as he ties the makeshift bandage roughly, “Don’t pretend like it isn’t satisfying for you to watch me in pain.”

He glances up, a smirk on his lips, “I never denied that.”

“Ah,” You grunt when he shoves your foot from his lap, “Why’d you do that anyway?”

“Maybe I wanted to hear you scream.”

“Nice try,” You sneer at him, “Why are you bothering to help me?”

“Like you said,” He shrugs, “You have something I want and I can’t get it if you give up. Maybe we don’t need to be enemies right now.”

You say nothing else, just pull your foot close to you, gently touching the silky fabric.

It feels better already, and will definitely help when you start walking again.

JK makes a sound of disapproval and leans forward, smacking your hand away from your bandaged foot and messing with the knot he had tied.

Apparently it wasn’t good enough.

“Don’t be touching it and fucking it up,” He mutters as he tightens it a little more, then proceeds to tuck the small knot into the folds of fabric that are wrapped snugly.

You swallow thickly as you watch him work quietly, tears building in your eyes when a memory flashes through your mind.

“You’re so clumsy, Apple.”

You crossed your arms, fighting the blush on your cheeks, “It was your idea to race from the waterfall.”

Jungkook laughed, making you look away.

The red in your cheeks was only because you were hot.

It was hot out.

Being only nine years old, you didn’t think of having a crush on your best friend, there were times though, that you felt a little more embarrassed at the way your cheeks reddened when he was being particularly sweet.

Like after you tripped and fell while racing from the waterfall to the shed and he immediately got on the ground to help you.

Your ankle was definitely sprained, but as he wrapped it tightly with one of his mother’s large handkerchiefs that he always kept in his pocket, it had already begun to feel better.

“How do you know it’s the right way?” You asked curiously as you watched him work.

There was no hint of mocking in your tone, you were genuinely wondering how he knew what to do to make it better.

“Mother taught me,” Jungkook said, glancing up at you to smile before looking back down at his task, “She said you don’t want it to be too tight, that will cut off your circulation. You don’t want it too loose either though, or it won’t support the injury.”

You smiled, “You sound smart when you talk like that.”

The eleven year old boy rolled his eyes dramatically, “I’m already smart.”

That made you giggle.

“Thanks, Jungkook.”

He finished tying the messy knot, tucked it into the fabric folds, then looked at you with a sweet smile.

“What’re best friends for?”

You blink slowly, mentally begging yourself to look away from him.

It hurts too much.

The demon bent over in front of you glances up, catching your eye before you turn your head away. He says nothing, just backs away into his previous spot and goes back to messing with his nails.

The fire crackles and snaps.

Somewhere in the distance, there’s the sound of faint howling.

The night songs of Hell are nothing like that of Earth’s.

They’re most especially nothing like where you’ve come from.

Nothing compares to being up there.

But when you close your eyes and focus, you can pretend.

“I’m not sure I’ll make it out of here.”

JK glances at you.

Your eyes are closed, knees tucked up to your chin and arms wrapped around them.

“I haven’t seen the stars for a long time. I miss them.”

He isn’t sure why you’re telling him this.

“At times I think maybe I can handle it, but sometimes it’s very hard.”

He stays quiet, listening intently as you list out whatever seems to be on your mind. Mostly silly random little things like worrying you might have ruined your dress, or that your hair will never again be untangled.

You finally open your eyes, not seeing the way he still looks at you.

Taking a deep breath, you blow gently on the fire, making the flames dance.

“Ok, you can take them now,” You whisper.

JK watches in confusion as you smile at the flames, your eyes traveling up and watching as the smoke carries something off into the sky.

He doesn’t ask you to clarify what you’ve just done and you don’t offer the answer freely, so the silence begins yet again.

“What is something that bothers you?” You finally ask, turning to him.

He raises a brow, then shrugs.

“I don’t know, why are you asking?”

“You do know, and just answer the question.”

He sighs and rolls his eyes, then huffs out a big breath, “Well… Sav is one annoying fuck, that’s for sure.”

You smile, “What else?”

“The predictability of the human race.”

You laugh lightly, “Fair enough.”

He sighs, tilting his head this way and that to stretch his neck, “I despise being caught off guard.”

The demon chuckles humorlessly but doesn’t look at you as he leans back on his hands, “I really fucking hate change, but I also hate when every day is the same.”

You don’t say anything, just watch as he seems to become unaware of your presence or how much he’s letting out as he stares at the fire.

“I hate being made to feel as if I’m a puppet. Like I don’t make my own decisions. Like I can’t.”

A few moments pass in silence, then you see that he’s begun to realize how vulnerable he was for a minute there.

“Toss them into the fire.”

“Hm?” He looks at you, black brows furrowed.

“Everything you said, all the thoughts still in your mind that you won’t let out. Toss it all into the flames.”

“Why-”

“Just trust me.”

He sighs dramatically but does as you say, looking at the fire and squinting.

“Ok, I did it.”

You scooch closer, something he’s far too aware of when he can feel your warmth even more than the fire’s as you just sit there beside him.

“Now, look.”

He follows your finger as you point to the smoke leaving the tips of the orangey red flames, dancing up into the bloody sky, higher and higher until he can’t see it any longer.

“Now they’re all gone,” You whisper, face not far from his own when he looks back at you, “You can breathe.”

Against his own will he takes in a shuddering breath, letting it out slowly as you stare into his eyes.

“I still don’t know what to call you,” He whispers, everything else fading away from his view when you smile.

“How about Apple?”

“Apple?” He looks confused, but also very much distracted by still staring at you, “That’s strange,” he mumbles, lost in thought.

Your heart breaks just a little when you hear him utter the name.

His gaze flits between your eyes and lips, unsure where they’re dying to drown in more.

“You might not need me, but I definitely need you.”

Another shaky breath leaves his lips as he leans in, ready to risk it all just to get one taste of your undoubtedly sweet sweet mouth.

You want to kiss him too, he can feel it.

Humans reek of their desires, it’s impossible to miss.

Your own scent is thick with a heavy sweetness, like a perfume wafting from you each time you look at him.

You’re ruining him.

Maybe Apple fits you after all.

You gulp when he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

Not a single word of disagreement comes from you when he reaches over and pushes your shoulder gently until you’re lying on the dirt, hair splayed out around your head as he crawls over your quivering body.

It feels almost like you’re shaking from the cold.

But it’s so hot.

A stuttered breath coming from you passes over his cheeks as his gaze drags over your face again and again, as if it’s the first and last time he will ever see it.

“I don’t understand you,” He whispers hoarsely, rough fingers tracing over your cheek and pushing a strand of hair from your face.

The way your eyes flit between his makes the demon’s chest feel strange.

Like it’s too tight, too hard to breathe, but also like the way you’re looking at him is the source of his breath. The only way he can continue to breathe at all.

The fallen angel that fears nothing, is slightly terrified.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, “I don’t understand me half the time either.”

He shakes his head, too confused and scared to snap back with a joke of his own.

“You are so annoying,” he groans, but despite his clear irritation, his fingers cup your cheek gently, “Please just shut up and fucking kiss me already.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at his words and the look on his face as he leans even closer until his nose touches yours.

Only seconds later, you can feel the touch of his lips ghosting over yours.

He’s shaking.

He hasn’t fully brought his mouth against yours yet.

Not yet, ____.

Fight it.

A gasp escapes you as you put a hand to his chest, panting.

“Stop.”

He freezes, body trembling even more after making himself stop.

“What?” He chokes out, desperate to close the distance.

“N-”

You close your eyes.

Not like this, you want to say.

But you can’t say anything; it’s taking too much strength just to hold him back when you want so badly to do nothing but press your lips to his. You open your eyes at the sound of his soft and confused voice.

“Why?” The way his eyes look between yours with something close to hurt makes your stomach twist violently.

“Oh,” he finally whispers, coming to some realization as to why you don’t want him to kiss you until you can’t breathe. Whatever he’s come up with in his brain is not going to be right, but there’s not really anything you can say to fix it.

The demon moves back, dark hair sticking to his forehead that’s shining with a light sheen of sweat. You see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly and pushes the hair out of his eyes.

“Your best friend,” he mumbles as you close your eyes again.

This is all so messed up.

“You wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for him.”

You open your eyes and look at him, still lying on your back as he’s sitting back on his heels, looking at you.

The way he says it sounds bitter, as if he’s jealous.

Jealous of himself without even realizing it.

“JK.”

“Are you really going to go back to him?” He asks stiffly.

“It’s-...complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

His words make you look at him again.

“What do you mean?” You whisper.

“What if-” He gulps, running a hand through his hair and now avoiding your gaze, “What if you didn’t go back?”

“I…don’t understand,” your voice breaks.

JK sighs deeply.

“What don’t you understand?”

“Anything,” you choke out, “I don’t understand anything you’re saying-”

“Stay.”

You sit up, startled at the suggestion.

“You’re not serious.”

“What makes you think I’d say it if I wasn’t?”

“You-” Your mind is racing, “You hate me-...”

He doesn’t say anything to that.

He does hate you…

Doesn’t he?

JK swallows.

I hate you.

I hate you more than I’ve ever hated any useless mortal.

I hate you…because I don’t hate you at all.

He closes his eyes slowly, a horror settling deep inside at the prospect he’s finally come to terms with. What he’s been denying internally for so long.

“Would you?”

You look at him, noticing that he’s still closing his eyes as he speaks softly.

When you don’t answer, he asks again, “Would you stay…if it weren’t for him?”

“What are you asking me, JK?”

He knows what you’re trying to do.

You’re not stupid.

You know exactly what he means.

You just want him to say it out loud.

But he can’t.

Not even you, as much of a hold as you seem to have on him, can make him utter the words.

So, he stands up.

“Forget it,” he spits, “You’re too fucking obsessed with something you’ll never have. You’d rather waste away and pine than take what’s right in front of you. Who am I to stop you?”

“Just say it,” You speak up as he turns away from you sitting on the ground and looking up at him with those stupidly pretty eyes, “Say it and I’ll answer you.”

“No,” he growls.

“Say it.”

“Shut up.”

“Why can’t you just say it?!” You cry, smacking a hand against the dirt.

“Because I can’t!” He whirls around, the look on his face a mixture between rage and longing, “I can’t! I can’t say it and watch you reject me for him!” He flings an arm out as if gesturing to someone who isn’t there.

Your eyes widen slowly.

He stands there, jaw taught with emotion, eyes swimming with a hidden torture.

Then you see him begin to morph.

It starts with the area around him, everything darkening, as if a shadow has been cast over the two of you. His face becomes horribly gaunt, one of his cheeks melting away until you can see the bone of his jaw and some of his teeth. Blood drips from his eyes like tears as black horns grow from his head.

You look on in horror as the rest of him starts to rip apart, as though he was clawed mercilessly, his clothes soon in shreds and skin hanging in bloody gashes, bones sticking out.

Huge black feathered wings sprout from his back and heavy metal chains appear on his bruised wrists and ankles, weighing him down as he stands there, head dropped low.

You move backwards slowly, tears of paralyzing horror streaming down your cheeks.

Being with him down here for so long made you forget what he is.

For sin is attractive.

Until you see its true form.

“Isn’t he so disgustingly wretched?”

You flinch at the grating voice that keeps coming back, one that does not belong to the demon in front of you.

It belongs to something far worse.

You can’t plug your ears, you can’t close your eyes.

All you can do is stare at the mutilated figure in front of you as it shakes, clearly in agonizing torment.

“Stop it,” you manage to choke out, “Leave him alone!”

There’s a deep laugh and you feel a shiver run through you.

“Oh, he is alone. The poor miserable creature-”

“Get out of here!” You scream at the top of your lungs.

“This is my territory, little angel,” It hisses, “You get out.”

Your stomach drops.

Then the shadow looming over you disappears.

All of the blood and the bone and the terror slowly seep away. Beautiful soft skin fills out over his face and body, the black wings bursting into a cloud of smoke as the chains melt away.

Finally able to move, you jump up and catch him when he falls forward, the weight of him in your arms making a sob rip from your throat as you sink to the ground with him, not letting go.

“JK?” You whimper, brushing the hair from his face as you keep him in your embrace.

After a few moments, he stirs, eyes fluttering open and looking at you in confusion.

“What the hell?” He mumbles weakly.

You wipe the tears from your eyes, “Are you okay?”

He sits up, a hand on his head as he looks around.

“What-” He looks back at you, “What happened? Why are you crying?”

“I-” You swallow the tears wanting to burst out of you.

He doesn’t remember.

He doesn’t know that you just saw his true form, what he looks like behind the beautiful facade. The agony that weighs him down even though no one else can see it.

“You passed out,” you mumble, sick to your stomach.

He glares at you suspiciously before moving to his feet with a grunt.

“Let’s just keep moving,” he snaps.

Your body is trembling from the horror that is still burned in your brain.

What happened? What did they do to him?

“Get up, come on!”

You stand shakily, not looking directly at him.

If you do, you know you will see it, even in your mind.

You’re not sure if you’ll be able to look at him again without seeing the blood dripping from his many concealed wounds, the bones sticking out of his skin where he’s been so cruelly broken.

Your heart feels like it’s been lodged into your throat and your stomach twists terribly as you shuffle after him.

For once, you welcome the silence.

JK rolls his eyes at how slowly you walk behind him.

All he can remember before realizing he was on the ground is shouting at you, admitting how he won’t make himself vulnerable just to be rejected for some idiot human boy that couldn’t care less about you.

How humiliating.

It was merely a moment of weakness, it will not happen again.

He will get you to the Flame, you will promise him your soul, and then you will leave; never to see each other again.

No other possibilities should have ever crossed his mind.

You will go back to your stupid little friend, fully believing you can save him.

A nasty smirk curves on the devil’s face at the knowledge that it will not go as you so desperately hope.

That bastard you are so unwaveringly loyal to will live an eternity of loss and regret, walking the planes of sorrow until he decides to accept his miserable fate in Hell.

Serves him right for allowing someone he claims to love to suffer for him while he sits idly by.

Your fate, on the other hand, is a little harder for him to swallow.

It matters not, though.

It’s your own fault for being so stupidly blinded by love.

JK glances over his shoulder to see you walking along quietly, head hung low as you watch your feet.

You’re not limping nearly as much as you were.

“We don’t have to be enemies.”

He scoffs.

Stupid mortal, thinking she can so easily befriend a demon.

He jerks his neck to the side, a satisfying crack sounding when he does. Then he rubs the place between his neck and shoulder, sighing deeply.

It’s almost finished.

He can stand it a little longer.

As long as he doesn’t say any more stupid shit that he doesn’t mean.

Idiot.

_____________

You slow to a stop after sensing that he is no longer far ahead of you.

Lifting your head, you see him looking down into an enormous funnel going deep into the earth.

It’s similar to the one just outside of the second circle, but about half the size. The first one was far too deep to see into. But when you walk over to stand next to him and look down, you wish you hadn’t.

You can certainly see into this one.

There are stairs carved into the side of the giant ditch, leading down a couple hundred feet until you reach the bottom. The bottom is then filled with ten ditches, small bridges separating each one.

In those ditches are untold horrors beyond even your worst imagination.

You stumble backwards, tripping and falling onto your backside, horror gripping your entire being so viciously that you turn and retch.

JK closes his eyes at the sound of your hyperventilating from behind him.

“I can’t help you here,” he says quietly, but still loud enough for you to hear him. He sounds almost regretful.

You wipe at your mouth and eyes, “It’s okay,” you whimper tearfully, clasping your hands and praying fervently for the courage to continue, knowing what lies ahead.

Knowing what you have to do.

What you will do.

No matter what.

“I’ll be alright.”

The demon gulps when a tiny sob leaves your throat.

You continue to cry a little more, sniffling to yourself as you rock on the ground.

Finally, he turns to look back at you.

You’ve cleaned your face up a bit and are currently checking under the blood soaked bandage on your left foot.

You look up in surprise when he kneels in front of you, holding his hand out.

In his palm is a strip of silky black cloth.

You take it slowly, wrapping it around your left foot to match the right, just the way he taught you to when you were little.

“What’re best friends for?”

You close your eyes and place a hand on your heart to calm it. When you open them again, he’s watching you.

I won’t give up on you, I promise.

I’ll try not to be scared.

“Are you ready?” He asks gently.

You nod.

JK holds out a hand, giving you the most genuine smile you’ve seen since coming here when you take it.

“You know,” he says as he pulls you to your feet, “You’re pretty strong…for a mortal.”

“Thank you,” you whisper hoarsely, not looking him in the eye.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

When you look at him, you can see several different meanings behind those words.

Are you sure you want to get that Flame…?

Are you sure you want to go back to your friend, to go on without him…?

If only he knew why you came here.

If only you could tell him without jeopardizing everything.

“I’m sure.”

The disappointment is clear for a moment before the emotion is wiped from his face and he nods.

“Alright then.”

You follow him to the dirt stairs built into the side of the giant crevice.

“Are you going to leave me?” You ask, staring down into the eighth circle of Hell.

He examines your face while he stands beside you even as you keep your eyes from looking in his direction.

“No.”

That’s all he says before starting down the stairs.

You look after him with a sad smile tugging at your lips.

Then you follow him.

_________________________

The screams that reach your ears are on an entirely different level from any circle thus far.

You keep your eyes glued to your guide’s back, praying that if you are forced to look away, you will have the strength not to give up.

After reaching the bottom of the steps, you realize that the demon in front of you does not look at the sinners with a sick and twisted smirk as he had done for so long.

He does not look at them at all.

His eyes are focused on nothing but straight ahead.

Chilling cackles echo around the funnel, turning your stomach to rot.

The sound of screaming, the sound of crying, the sound of things you do not want a mental picture of.

It surrounds you like a thick blanket, choking you.

Your hands shake at your sides as you walk along the first thin bridge behind him, the dirt structure only big enough to go in a single file line, so you can’t be next to him.

He doesn’t stop to peer into the ditches as he so often would.

He doesn’t chuckle while listening to the torture being dealt.

All he does is walk steadily forward.

As you’re crossing the second bridge, there’s suddenly a burning grasp on your ankle. A surprised scream leaves your throat as you tumble to the ground, shaking while trying to stay on the small bridge.

Against your better judgment, you turn and look at who grabbed you.

It’s an old man.

He’s covered in flames, an enraged look on his face as he grabs for you again.

“Get in! Get in! Get in!”

He won’t stop screaming.

You can’t stop screaming.

Firm hands grasp under your arms and lift you to your feet.

“Walk, little mortal.”

For the first time, that nickname does not come out of his mouth as an insult.

You limp away quickly, hyper aware of the skin around your ankle scorched and very clearly melting a bit from the sinner’s touch.

Biting your lip harshly, you will yourself not to look down at the damage.

Falling to your knees after finally reaching the end of that crossing, you shake violently.

Don’t look.

A loud groan passes your lips as you drop your forehead to the ground.

It’s bad, you know it is.

You can feel your own skin dripping down your ankle.

“Ah,” you breathe heavily, the dirt blowing up from the ground and into your open mouth.

His presence is soon tangible, standing right next to you.

“I’m okay.”

Your voice shakes just as much as your body does.

“I know,” he responds.

You climb to your feet, then begin to stumble towards the next bridge.

The only thing you can do is ignore the sounds of people being struck with weapons again and again as you hurry across.

As you walk as briskly as you can over the fifth overpass, you suddenly stop short, a hand going to your stomach.

Your insides twist and turn horribly.

It only gets worse with each passing second, until you’re crouching on the bridge and wrapping both arms around your midsection.

It’s worse than when you had typhoid.

Much much worse.

You gasp in a breath, face twisted in agony as it feels like your insides are being wrung like a wet towel. Nausea washes over you so suddenly and so violently that you start to throw up right there on the bridge. There is no relief.

JK stands behind your crouched figure, silent and unable to look at you.

He cannot help you here.

It will not lessen until you leave the circle, but the longer you linger over the ditch of the diseased, the worse it will get.

You seem to realize that, because seconds later you uncurl from yourself to start crawling across the ancient bridge, crying silently the whole way.

When you’re almost to the end, you collapse.

The pain is too much, you cannot move another inch.

Rolling over onto your side, you curl up into the fetal position and stare straight ahead.

“If ever you need me, little one, just say my name and I will come.”

He will come save you.

The pain can stop.

All it takes is one name.

A tortured groan leaves your lips as JK walks over and crouches close.

Your face is a sickly color, drenched in a cold sweat as red splotches decorate your skin. Your eyes are bloodshot, painful sores are littered across your lips and undoubtedly in your mouth.

You flinch when a gentle touch brushes the hair from your face.

Even that hurts.

“Where is it the worst?”

You blink, the blurry person coming into view.

You can’t answer, it hurts too bad.

“You don’t have to talk, just show me.”

You blink again, confused as to why he’s asking this.

“Where does it hurt the most?”

Finally, you gently tap your abdomen.

The demon nods, “Alright.”

You see the fuzzy image of him looking around before leaning close to you again, “I know you can’t move. But it will only get worse if you stay here.”

You don’t do anything but close your eyes, a pained moan slipping from your bleeding lips.

JK bites his lip and glances around again.

When he hears you mumbling something, he leans down.

“Hm?”

“You want me to give up,” you whisper brokenly, barely getting the words out.

He doesn’t answer, but the look on his face proves that you’re right.

“You don’t have to do this,” he says quietly, “How could he let you suffer like this?”

There’s a faint smile on your lips at his words.

“Would-... do it for me,” you croak, blood dripping out of the corner of your mouth from the sores along the insides of your cheeks, the roof of your mouth, and your tongue, “And he’s suffering m-more than I am.”

The demon watches in astonishment as you squeeze your eyes shut and force yourself onto your stomach so that you can crawl.

“You asked me how ba-...how badly I want it,” you whisper weakly as you catch your breath, “Do you remember what I said…?”

He sighs as you pull yourself up enough to start moving slowly, red lines still streaking from your mouth.

“You said you wanted it more than anything.”

“Exactly,” you mumble, more blood dribbling from your lips as you shuffle along the ground.

You keep your eyes on your fingers as they grip the dirt, curl into it, and pull you further.

You will drag yourself inch by inch across the eighth circle if that’s what it takes.

JK stands up, watching you pull yourself slowly, even as nasty hives spread on your arms and legs, as welts appear on your paper thin skin, as you shake uncontrollably.

He realizes, in horrified bewilderment, that you are not going to stop.

Every single disease known to the human race is taking over your body in its worst form.

But you are not going to stop.

It takes many hours.

Each moment is agonizing beyond description.

But you make it to the end.

The second you reach the end of the tenth bridge, you feel hands grab and lift you. You don’t fight it.

You’re in his arms, but you can’t see him.

You can’t see anything.

Vision had left you long ago, so did your hearing.

You swallow, wincing at the soreness in your throat as you lay your head on his shoulder, wrapping your bloody arms around him and tucking your face into his neck.

JK swallows the lump in his throat as he feels your nose brush against the side of his neck, your shallow breath warming his cold skin. He walks up the stairs that lead out of the eighth circle, carrying you like a child that fell asleep on the couch before bedtime, the sound of tortured screams fading as he goes.

He knows you can’t hear them anymore anyway.

“You’re gonna be fine,” he mumbles into your hair as he climbs the steps effortlessly.

When you open your eyes, you think you see a star high above you in the ember sky.

But when you blink, it’s gone.

Then you realize you can see smoke filling the sky.

You sit up, groaning at the ache in your muscles. With a look around, you know that your vision has come back.

The sound of crackling fire confirms that your hearing has come back too.

You turn to see him lying on the ground a few feet from you, looking up at the thick smoke.

He happens to glance over at you, then sits up quickly after realizing that you’re awake.

“I’m alright,” you answer the question in his eyes before he can even ask it.

He shakes his head at you, a disapproving frown on his pretty features.

“We should keep going,” You’re the one to say it this time as you struggle to your feet, “I don’t have much time.”

He stands up too.

“Stop.”

“Hm?” You fiddle with your dress, ignoring the dried blood coating much of your skin and the ache in your body, “Stop what?”

He walks over to you, anger and something else you can’t place in his dark eyes.

“Stop doing this for him.”

“We talked about this,” You say with a shrug, “Several times in fact-”

You jump when he steps closer, daring you to finish.

“He doesn’t deserve you.”

After a moment of stunned silence, you whisper with uncertainty.

“JK do you-”

His gaze does not falter.

“...are you in love with me?”

There’s a clear panic in his eyes and he swallows, then it’s covered up by disgusted rage.

“What the hell are you talking about? Why would I ever-”

“It’s okay,” You whisper, a small smile on your face as you step closer, “It’s okay.”

He gulps when you touch his cheek with your warm hand, holding it gently before moving up on your tippy toes to place a kiss right on the edge of his mouth, a burning sensation making him gulp when your blood stains his skin. Then you pull away and look at him again.

“Why are you doing this to me?” He breathes, eyes begging you to have mercy on him.

“It’s okay,” Is all you say.

His body is trembling slightly as he leans down and touches his forehead to yours, “It’s not.”

“Why?” You hum, one of your hands moving to the nape of his neck to tangle in the hair there.

“I can’t-...love you.”

“Yes, you can.”

He shakes his head, a choked breath leaving him as he pulls away enough to look in your eyes.

“You can leave. I’ll bring you back.”

“Hm?” You look beyond confused.

He grits his teeth, swallowing the horrible lump in his throat as he puts a hand to your bruised cheek, hatred fighting to be seen as so many things swarm his brain.

“You’re free, okay? You need to leave before I change my mind.”

“JK-”

“I’m going to let you go,” he places a finger to your lips, “I’m letting you out of the deal.”

_______________________

a/n: tysm for reading 📚 thoughts always welcome 💖

taglist 1: @butterymin @kookxin @telepathytae @kooliv @highoffbaddecisions @meanum @smitssharon02 @kmpac @ggukkieland @jjanjankook @sugaslittlekookies @hobispriteu1306 @kimchibrat @slowlydeliciousjiminie @screamertannie @i-dont-give-a-fok @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @ohyeahjk @babycandy111 @era-genius @xmochiloverx @sopikooo @jamlessstars @bangtannie7 @nuttykittypainter @geniejunn @ane102 @charlesswife @ashbxnny @veronawrites @jjkw-7 @jinsundor @h-g-bts @justvibingsblog @hyuneyeon @hellbornsworld @hiii-priestess @nuttypizzacat @vidaficrecs @royallyjjk @thvslvt @hoseoksluv89 @moonchilddna @idkjustlovingbts @aurorathi

373 notes · View notes

helloalycia · 1 year ago

Text

the king’s ward [four] // morgana pendragon

summary: now that you've left Camelot yet again, you and your brother figure out what to do next, but things don't go to plan...

warning/s: mentions of blood, injury, fighting and kidnapping.

author's note: and here’s the final part! this was a fun one to write so i do hope you all enjoyed it :)

one / two / three / masterlist / wattpad

"We could offer to help out on a farm in some outlying villages," Y/B/N said thoughtfully. "Might be a nice change of pace."

I groaned quietly as we rode slowly through the forest. "That's so boring. The last time we did that, I literally fell asleep guarding the chicken coop. It was a pointless job."

He chuckled. "That was too good. But I guess you're right. We've got enough supplies to last us the week, so for once, we can take our time with it."

I hummed, grateful. "Maybe we could go to the–"

Suddenly our horses neighed in unison, coming to a halt and throwing us off. Out of nowhere, a small group of bandits came rushing towards us, having hidden in the tree line. Y/B/N and I forced ourselves off the ground and grabbed our swords, moving to defend. But he was still weak and I worried for him, staying next to him to keep him safe.

There were too many bandits, enough to surprise and overwhelm us anyway, and with Y/B/N's injured shoulder, we were pinned down quicker than we'd ever been. They grabbed Y/B/N and pressed a dagger to his neck, making me pause as I had my sword raised to strike.

"Don't," one of the bandits warned me. "Give me your sword. Now."

I squeezed the hilt, stressed and worried and unsure how to respond, but they squeezed Y/B/N's injured shoulder, eliciting a groan, and I had to drop the sword, kicking it towards them. One of them scrambled to pick it up as the leader looked to me.

"Your mask," he ordered, motioning to my face.

"Y/N, don't–" Y/B/N started, but they punched him in the gut, silencing him.

"You can take the horses," I said, tugging off my mask. "Just let us go."

The leader laughed dryly. "So you're a girl. I knew it."

I wondered how he knew who we were, since we never showed our faces nor left anyone alive to make enemies.

"Your brother here dies unless you give us back our prize," he stated. "The King's Ward. Right here. Tomorrow night."

I tried to hide my surprise, but that's when I recognised the bandits' outfits. These were part of the same group who orchestrated Morgana's kidnapping. Maybe Y/N and I didn't get them all like we'd thought. And now they were back and we were screwed.

"I can't," I told him, trying not to give anything away. "She would never follow me. Especially not so soon after a kidnapping."

"Figure it out," the leader snarled. "Maybe next time you'll stay out of affairs that aren't yours."

I clenched my fists with irritation, but he didn't care. Instead, he nodded to Y/B/N.

"You and the girl, alone," he added. "Or your brother dies."

Y/B/N began to shake his head, eyes meeting mine. "Don't do it, Y/N. It's okay. Just don't– dnfffuff–"

They pulled a cloth around his mouth, muffling his words, and all I could do was stay frozen, watching as they dragged him back, stealing one horse and whistling for their others. The leader looked to me with a warning stare before leaving, my brother sat behind him, tied up.

As soon as they were gone, I grabbed my sword and immediately mounted my horse, turning around to race back to Camelot. It hadn't even been a few hours – just our luck that we'd been ambushed. But there was no time to dwell on it, not when Y/B/N's life was on the line. I couldn't even dare to think about what would happen if I left it too long.

Of course I wasn't going to give Morgana to those sickos, but I couldn't fight them off myself. My only hope was Arthur, and I desperately hoped he would help.

With tears whipping from my cheeks as I rode swiftly through the trees, I tried to focus on what I could do rather than what I couldn't. And within the hour, thanks to my intense riding, I made it back to the centre of Camelot.

Almost falling off my horse in the process, I dismounted and sped up the staircase towards the castle. I knew where Arthur's room was, but there was no way I'd be allowed there without being escorted out. Thankfully, I didn't need to think of a way to find him as I soon saw Merlin roaming the halls. As soon as he saw me, he approached with confusion. And then he must have seen my red eyes as his expression dropped.

"Oh, no, what is it?" he asked, looking between my eyes. "What happened, Y/N?"

I couldn't help it. I frowned as more tears streamed down my face. "They took Y/B/N, Merlin. I need to get him back. I have to speak to Arthur."

He didn't understand, not fully, but he nodded anyway and led me to Arthur's room as quickly as he could. Without knocking, he walked in and I followed after him.

"Merlin, do you not know how to–!" Arthur started, but stopped once he saw me. "Oh, Y/N. You're back so soon."

"She needs your help," Merlin explained. "They took her brother."

Arthur stood up from his desk, expression hardening. "Who?"

"The bandits who tried to kidnap Morgana," I told him, voice more hoarse than I wanted. "They ambushed us in the forest and took him, threatening his life if I don't return there with Morgana tomorrow night. Arthur, I can't do that, but I can't lose Y/B/N. I'm pleading for your help."

I anticipated much more begging and, potentially, deal-making, but Arthur was already rounding his desk and grabbing his jacket.

"Come with me," he ordered, already walking to the door.

I glanced at Merlin with confusion, wiping my face. He was as confused as I.

"Well?" Arthur called when we didn't follow him. "We're going to have an audience with the King! We can't just leave Y/B/N there. We don't have long."

Both surprised and relieved, I followed after Arthur as he led Merlin and I to the throne room. The knights guarding it immediately parted to let us in, and Arthur walked briskly down the centre of the room, towards his father who was talking to Morgana. Gwen was stood the side and a few more knights were guarding the interior, and when the doors slammed close accidentally behind us, everybody looked our way.

"Arthur," the King acknowledged, before his eyes fell to me. "And you... I thought you left."

"Y/N," Morgana muttered, already sensing the discomfort. "What is it?"

I would have preferred if she didn't know at all, but she was here and it was inevitable. I merely gave her a sad glance before letting Arthur lead the conversation.

"Father, I'm asking your permission to take some knights and help rescue Y/N's brother from some bandits," Arthur began, and the King tried not to laugh.

"I beg your pardon?"

With a sigh, Arthur began to explain what the situation was, but the King didn't seem the slightest bit sympathetic. Exactly what I'd feared would happened.

"Look, Y/N," Uther began once Arthur had finished, and I knew it wouldn't be good. "I'm grateful for you saving my ward, both you and your brother, but I cannot help you."

"My Lord!" Morgana interrupted in protest, but he ignored her.

"The Lady Morgana is worth much more to me than your brother is," Uther stated.

"I would never wish to endanger her," I reminded him with a bitter tone, because I'd literally said that and he just wasn't listening. "I'm only asking that you can send some of your knights to assist me in rescuing Y/B/N. Together, I have a chance of getting him back. Alone, it's suicide."

"I'm sorry," he said without consideration. "It's not a risk I can take."

I clenched my jaw as I met his gaze. "Surely you would want to find out who is so badly wanting to kidnap your ward? This would be the perfect opportunity to do so."

This seemed to turn a cog in his brain as he frowned with thought, finally considering it.

"Father, I can spare a few knights," Arthur tried to convince him. "Let me go. We can be in and out in no time."

"No way," Uther decided, making any hope of mine dwindle.

Sighing, I closed my eyes with defeat. I should have known better than to ask King Uther for help.

"My Lord, please," Morgana begged him. "They saved my life! The least we can do is return the favour!"

"It's asking too much!" Uther said with finality. "I have made my decision. That's it."

The hall fell quiet as Uther's echoes ceased. I opened my eyes, feeling nauseous at the thought of having to attempt a rescue by myself.

"Thank you for your consideration," I said to the King once more, before bowing and leaving before he could say anything. The last thing I needed was to waste what little time I had left to make a move.

Once I left the throne room, I walked up the steps with the intention of the leaving the castle and making a plan of my own. I barely made it to the hallway when Morgana's voice called for me from behind.

I couldn't ignore her, so I stopped and turned around to see her catching up to me with a worried expression.

"Don't leave," she pleaded immediately, hand clutching my arm in case I tried to walk away. "It's me they want. Let me help."

I scoffed. "Morgana, I'm not trading you."

She didn't know what else to offer, I could see it in her desperate attempt to cling on to me before I gave up and left.

"It's okay," I tried to assure her, not wanting her to feel guilty. Resting my hand on hers, I squeezed it gently. "I'll think of something."

She shook her head. "I'm going to talk to Arthur."

I frowned at the reminder. "You saw what happened in there. The King said no. There's nothing more Arthur can do."

"Just let me try," she said, mirroring my frown. "Please. He'll help. I know he will. He isn't like Uther."

If I hadn't seen firsthand how considerate Arthur could be, I wouldn't have believed her. But with Morgana's help, maybe the crowned prince could come around.

"I don't have long," I reminded her. "If I have to do this myself, I'll need the time to find the bandits. I can't wait all day."

"You won't have to," she promised. "Wait in the citadel. I'll find you soon."

I nodded, believing her. Her green eyes lingered on mine worriedly before she left to keep to her word.

It was barely an hour later when Morgana found me in the citadel, trying not to chew off my fingernails. Judging by the expression on her face – an attempt to stifle her smile – I assumed it was good news, but the knot of anxiety was still pressing on my heart.

"What did he say?" I asked her as soon as she was close enough.

She fixed me with a reassuring stare. "Arthur will meet you outside the city walls tomorrow midday. You're going to get Y/B/N back."

Exhaling with relief, I pressed a hand to my chest. "I don't know what to say. Thank you so much, Morgana."

"Don't thank me," she said, before pulling me in for a hug. "He'll be okay. Arthur is the best."

I returned her hug, appreciative of her help. She owed me nothing, but she was still helping me out and I couldn't have been anymore grateful.

Just as promised, Arthur found me outside the city walls the next day with my horse and sword. I was surprised to see he'd slipped away from his father's hold, and with a couple of knights, too. Merlin was at his side also, though I couldn't imagine the two ever being apart.

"How are you holding up?" he asked once he dismounted, looking over me with a hidden concern.

"Better now that you're helping," I admitted, before meeting his gaze. "Arthur, I'll owe you forever. Disobeying your father isn't what I–"

"Consider us even," he interrupted, offering a small smile. "You did save Morgana and Gwen after all."

I sighed, knowing it wasn't exactly the same, but there was no point arguing it. We needed every minute we had before the bandits expected my arrival.

Ready and already equipped with a plan, Arthur introduced me to his fellow knights before explaining what would happen. I would have laughed at how ridiculous it sounded if I didn't have any other choice. He wanted one of his knights to wear Morgana's cloak and I would pretend to make the trade, making sure to request Y/B/N's presence. And once the bandits were fooled, we'd strike. A surprise attack that I could only hope would work.

After choosing the shortest knight, Arthur and I watched as he stripped down to his shirt and trousers and wore one of Morgana's finest cloaks, pulling the hood over his head and looking down so his face wouldn't be revealed. Surprisingly, he played the part well and, from a distance, looked like someone from royalty. As long as the bandits brought us Y/B/N before studying 'Morgana', we'd be okay.

Once everybody had their positions marked out on a map Arthur had brought, we ventured into the forest and took to our roles. I waited where Y/B/N and I had been ambushed yesterday, holding the arm of the knight dressed as Morgana. The others were hidden amongst the trees, trained to be out of sight and to make no sound. I assumed the bandits would have their own back up plan, so I kept my eyes peeled, though I was sure Arthur had it all under control.

Not even minutes later, horses galloped towards me, skidding to a halt when they saw who I had. The bandits dismounted, swords raised, and amongst them was my brother. I held my breath as I looked over him – aside from the few bruises he'd sustained, he looked okay.

"Well, well, well," the bandit leader announced with shock. "You actually did it."

I swallowed hard, sneering at him. "Just give me back my brother."

He grinned, before attempting to lower his head to look at 'Morgana's' face. Thankfully, the knight embodied his role well and shivered, moving to hide behind me. The bandit leader bellowed with laughter.

"What is it? Is the Lady Morgana suddenly shy?" he asked rhetorically. "That's not what the rumours have suggested." His fellow criminals laughed as he continued, "She better liven up when we take her. Hengist wouldn't want her to put up a fight."

Hengist? The warlord, Hengist? No wonder they were so desperate for Morgana. They wanted to ransom her! How awful.

"My brother," I repeated firmly.

He rolled his eyes. "You're no fun. Fine." He nodded to another bandit. "Make the trade."

They dragged my brother forward, his wrists bound and a rag in his mouth. I reluctantly led the knight forward and we made the switch, with the bandit taking ahold of him in seconds. I quickly moved to untie Y/B/N and yanked out the rag, making sure he was okay. And before I could even check to see what had happened with the others, the knight pretending to be Morgana had stabbed the bandit holding him in the neck.

Their complete and utter surprise was the perfect opportunity for Arthur and the others to yell out a war cry and run from their hiding spots, engaging in combat. One knight stayed behind, firing arrows from a distance, and I unsheathed my sword before defending my brother and I.

The element of surprise only lasted a few seconds before the bandits jumped into the fight, slashing and stabbing and parrying with eagerness. Alone, they would have been a challenge. But with the infamous knights of Camelot on my side, we handled them in record time, leaving behind only their leader.

Arthur had him grovelling on the ground, his sword at his neck.

"I want you to deliver a message to Hengist," he spat down at him, seething with anger, no doubt from the way they had spoken of Morgana earlier. "If he ever tries anything again, I'll go over there myself personally and kill him on the spot. Understood?"

The bandit leader nodded repeatedly, scrambling to find words. "Y-yes, my lord, o-of course."

Arthur clenched his jaw as he lowered his sword. "Get out of here! And don't let me see your face again!"

He nodded once more before jumping up and running away, out of sight and out of mind. Relieved, I sheathed my sword and turned to face Y/B/N.

"You're okay?" I asked with a lump in my throat. "Tell me you're okay."

"I'm okay, Y/N, I swear," he assured me with a weak smile.

I ignored him and pulled him into a tight hug, practically squeezing the life out of him, but I couldn't care less. He was alive and okay and we'd bloody done it!

Before I could properly acknowledge that fact however, I saw one of the supposed-to-be dead bandits on the ground behind him, moving slowly. Realising he was standing up with a knife and heading straight for Arthur, who was talking to a knight, I let go of Y/B/N and yelled out, before shoving Arthur out of the way. Unfortunately for me, the bandit landed a lucky blow to my abdomen, the knife piercing straight through my skin. A sword came down on the bandit, but I felt a hot pain as I looked down.

"Oh, no," I mumbled, my hand coming away with fresh, deep red blood.

"Y/N!" Y/B/N shouted, before helping me to stand as my weight was suddenly too heavy to handle on my own.

As he lowered me to the ground, Arthur kneeled down next to me, looking bewildered. "Why on earth would you do that?!"

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. "I didn't really think it through."

"Give me something to cover her wound with, now!" Y/B/N yelled out to the knights.

I heard a ripping sound and then Morgana's precious robe was being folded and pressed to my stomach area. It didn't feel good, the pain sharp at first.

What happened next, I couldn't exactly recall. There was a lot of shouting and jostling me about, my eyes opening and closing with glimpses of faces and trees and the blue of the sky on this clear summer's day. Thoughts drifted in and out, my brain not focusing on anything except the relief that Y/B/N was safe.

I must have been brought back to the castle, recognising the ceiling of Gaius' quarters and Gaius himself. Again, I was in and out of consciousness, never awake long enough to say anything, but there were glimpses of Gaius, Y/B/N, Merlin, Morgana and even Arthur. It couldn't have been good, I knew that much.

And finally, when I came to without immediately drifting off, I saw Y/B/N and Morgana sat beside my bed, their saddened expressions just about visible between my tired, blurred vision.

I sucked up a breath, a whine escaping my mouth. "What happened?"

At my voice, they both looked to me with surprise, tears in their eyes.

"Gaius... I need to get Gaius!" Y/B/N suddenly said, before squeezing my hand and almost tripping over the stool as he ran to leave the room.

I furrowed my brows, confused and not quite acknowledging where I was or what was happening. Then my eyes fell to a staring Morgana, her wet eyes widened.

"Why are you crying?" I asked, mouth drier than ever. "Is Arthur okay?"

She began to smile, snickering as she wiped at her eyes. "Yes, you idiot, it's you who isn't."

I didn't understand, not straight away, and then I began to remember the glimpses of faces, the forest, the bandits, Y/B/N being hurt, the blood. Instantly, my hand felt for my abdomen, relieved to feel a bandage covering the wound.

"Okay, it's starting to hurt now," I mumbled, before wincing when the ache was becoming recognisable the more I woke up.

Morgana took my hand between hers, earning my attention again. "Y/N, you saved Arthur's life. And mine. And Y/B/N's. You're a hero."

"I really don't feel like one," I said jokingly, a terrible attempt to both lighten the situation and take the attention away from my actions.

She smiled softly, though it didn't reach her eyes, and then pressed a kiss to my hand, making my brain short circuit.

"Everybody thought you weren't going to make it," she said quietly, reluctantly.

I swallowed hard, pulling my gaze from her lips and forcing myself to meet her eyes. "Well, here I am."

She didn't let go of my hand, merely smiled with relief. Before either of us could say anything more, Y/B/N returned with Gaius in tow, eager and excited.

"You're awake," Y/B/N said, as if he still couldn't believe it.

"I'm pretty sure I told you not to get hit by arrows," I chastised lightheartedly. "Look what good it did? Now I'm bedridden!"

He was smiling hard, unbothered by his teary eyes. "You're so stupid."

I rolled my eyes playfully, but a ghost of a smile was on my lips.

"It's good to see you're okay, Y/N," Gaius said with relief. "I feared you wouldn't wake up after how much blood you lost."

I opened my mouth to answer, but was interrupted when another figure entered through the door. It was Arthur, followed by Merlin, and they both looked to me with surprise.

"For God's sake, can everyone stop looking at me like their dog died and I'm the dog?!" I said, attempting to sit up to prove that I was fine, but it hurt more than I could disguise.

"You need to stay put," Gaius ordered lightly.

I sighed deeply, before looking to Arthur, glad he was alright. He smiled at me gratefully.

"I owe you," he said. "You saved my life."

I waved my hand dismissively, hyper-aware of the warmth in my face.

"I must ask that you all give Y/N some space," Gaius said politely. "I need to check her health and it's too crowded in here. You can visit later."

They all nodded, sending me friendly smiles. Morgana squeezed my hand once more before leaving with the others.

Being bedridden was not ideal. In fact, I was very much hating every second of it, apart from when the others came to visit. I wasn't a fan of being stuck with my thoughts, nor having absolutely nothing to do or being unable to move.

Y/B/N stayed with me most of the time for the week I couldn't get up, thankfully, and the others visited when they could. Arthur came once, to make sure I really was okay, and another time to remind me that I owed him a fight. Merlin and Gaius were also there a lot considering they lived there and were keeping me alive. And Morgana stopped by regularly, sometimes with Gwen, to make sure I had everything I needed. Having that many people who actually cared about my well-being was strange, since I was so used to only having Y/B/N around. But I didn't hate it. I only worried I was getting too attached...

One afternoon, Morgana came to visit and I was a little too glad to see her, mostly because I was getting very bored staring up at the ceiling. As soon as she sat by my side, I propped my head up so I could see her better.

"Don't get me wrong," I started with a small smile, "I love the company, but I get it can be boring. You don't need to be here."

She shrugged. "It's my fault you were hurt. I do."

I lifted a brow, surprised she believed that. "It really isn't, Morgana."

She gave me a knowing look, disagreeing. "They took Y/B/N because they wanted me. You saved Arthur trying to get him back. I'm the cause."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, how far that is from the truth. People like those bandits hurt because they can. They get greedy. I was only doing what was right. Even if it wasn't you in danger, I would have reacted the same way."

She smiled with amusement, eyes meeting mine. "I don't doubt that."

I pressed my lips into a smile. "My point is, either way, it's not your fault."

She tilted her head, eyes staring off ahead, and I knew she didn't quite believe me.

"Anyway...," I tried to change the subject, missing her attention, "tell me about your day."

It seemed to work as she chuckled, looking back at me. "There isn't much to tell."

"Uh-huh."

Laughing now, she gave in. "Okay, well I went dress shopping with Gwen earlier..."

I was very much content just laying there and listening to Morgana speak, even if it was about the simplicity of her day so far. The glimmer in her eyes, how soft her voice carried itself, how animated she became when talking about stuff she enjoyed... it was a sight to behold, or maybe I was just super infatuated with her. Either way, I wasn't complaining.

Unfortunately, the hour in which she kept me company was apparently a lot more than I could take as I soon grew tired, unable to stay awake for too long a time, especially with the medicine Gaius was giving me to numb the pain. As much as I tried to disguise it, Morgana wasn't blind.

When she fell silent, it took me a moment to realise she was just staring at me. I blinked, about to speak, but she beat me to it.

"You're tired."

"I'm not."

She quirked a brow, and it was impossible to lie to her, even though I really wanted her to stay.

"Okay, maybe a little," I admitted. "But I'm okay. Please, stay."

She shook her head, smiling softly. "You should rest, Y/N. I've been here long enough."

"You don't have to–"

"I'll return later," she assured me, already pressing a hand to mine. "I promise."

I exhaled quietly, nodding. Her smile widened, eyes flickering between mine. Leaning down, she gave me a hug the best she could, and I lifted my arms to return the favour, eyes threatening to close because of how comfortable I was. But then she let go. And I barely blinked when her hand cupped my cheek and suddenly she was pressing her lips to mine in a tender kiss.

I couldn't even react, too surprised to acknowledge it, before she'd pulled apart and I was submerged in green.

"Sleep tight," she whispered, completely unaware of the fire that was spreading over my face.

Words escaped me and then she let go and flashed me a smile before leaving. She kissed me? Me?

And I didn't do anything?!

A few days later, I found myself stood before King Uther, the third and hopefully last time in my life. I was finally well enough to stand up, so Arthur insisted I speak to the King, especially since he obviously knew about Arthur's disobedience. I was certain I was going to get yelled at, but surprisingly I didn't.

"I'm not impressed that Arthur left to help you," Uther was saying, "but you did save his life. You're constantly proving to be a skilful and honourable swordsman. Woman. Whatever."

I pressed my lips together, unsure what to say as he frowned to himself, like he couldn't quite believe what he was saying. It would have been amusing if it weren't aimed at me.

Arthur cleared his throat a little obviously, bringing Uther back to his point. and Y/B/N and I exchanged nervous glances.

"I would like to offer you a job in Camelot," he finally said, making me raise my eyebrows. Had I heard correctly?

"I'm sorry, you– you want to what?" I asked, though the hidden smile on Arthur's face behind him made me think I'd heard correctly.

"It seems that everybody keeps trying to hurt my ward," he said with regret, before sighing. "And everyone seems to underestimate your talent. It would put me at great ease if Morgana had a personal bodyguard of sorts, and you're the perfect person for the job."

Unable to hide my shock any longer, my mouth opened slightly. Glancing over his shoulder, I caught the Morgana's eyes, seeing her smiling at me hopefully. Was this her doing? Arthur's? Or did the King finally deem me worthy of something other than being a peasant woman?

"You look like a handmaiden, but you're not," Uther continued to explain. "If you're always with her, I know she'll be safe. Anybody who even tries to lay a hand on her will have you to answer to."

I swallowed hard, still reeling from his offer. A bodyguard? For Morgana? That would mean staying in Camelot permanently. Living here. I'd be with her all the time. And I hadn't even properly spoken to her alone since she kissed me the other day... there so much to think about it. And I told the King exactly that.

"I appreciate the offer," I said with a nod, "but I would like to have a think. Discuss it with my brother."

Uther nodded. "Of course, of course. Try not to take too long though. We'd like to have you start as soon as possible."

I nodded curtly before Y/B/N and I bowed once more, then left the throne room. My thoughts were still playing catch up, but we barely made it into the hallway when Y/B/N came to a halt and stepped in front of me.

"Did you hear what he said? He must really be starting to respect you!"

I scoffed quietly. "I wouldn't go that far..."

He gave me a knowing look. "So, you're obviously going to do it."

I looked up at him. "What?"

Expression softening, he said, "I'm sick of constantly moving around and I know you are, too. Camelot is nice. The people here are lovely." He glanced around at the empty hallway before adding in a quiet voice, "And you obviously like Morgana. She seems to like you, too. Why don't we stick around?"

I breathed out tiredly, meeting his eyes. "You make it sound so easy."

He laughed, pulling me close by the shoulders. "It is!"

I rolled my eyes and shoved him away, a ghost of a smile on my lips. "But what if we don't like it here after all? What if we're not cut out for this life? Working for noblemen?"

"I'd hardly call being Morgana's bodyguard working for noblemen," he said with amusement. "Besides. If we don't like it, we leave. That's the point. To try new things."

"I suppose you're right..."

"I always am."

I rolled my eyes again, beginning to walk away. "You wish."

His laughter echoed down the hall as he joined my side. "This won't be a mistake, Y/N, I just know it."

I pressed my hands down my dress before knocking on Morgana's bedroom door. After a moment, it opened to reveal Gwen smiling at me.

"Good morning," she said as she stepped to the side to let me in. "Morgana, your new handmaiden is here!"

I groaned quietly at the new job title, making Gwen laugh as she left the room. Morgana spun around from her position at her dressing table before stifling a smile as she looked me up and down.

"Don't talk about," I said knowingly, referring to the awful dress I had to wear. "It's to blend in."

She stood up and approached me, a chuckle escaping her lips. "Blend in it does."

"If anybody dares make a move against you though, I'm ready," I said with confidence.

"Oh, really?"

I pulled up the hem my dress, showing her where I had a knife strapped to each knee, making her laugh at the sight.

"Ah, yes, I feel perfectly safe now," she said, with a hint of sarcasm.

"That's the plan."

Her smile widened, eyes flickering between mine, before her expression softened. "Thank you for agreeing to this job, Y/N. I know it's not ideal. If I could, I would have made you a knight. God knows you deserve that honour, and it would have been much more respectable than the Lady Morgana's second handmaiden."

I shrugged, hoping she knew I didn't mind as much. "It's okay. I chose this. And at least I can be sure you're safe now. No more surprise kidnappings, right?"

She smiled with amusement, eyes not leaving mine, and I found myself getting distracted by the gold flecks in her irises. We still hadn't mentioned the kiss – I was starting to believe I'd imagined it – but I couldn't let it go amiss anymore. I was head over heels for her, allowed or not, and I needed to know how she felt. It was now or never.

"So now is probably the wrong time to bring this up," I started, attempting to disguise my nerves, "but the other day when you visited me at Gaius', you, er, you kissed me. And I'm just– well, I'm not sure if it was like a friendly kiss or–"

Before I could finish, she leaned forward and kissed me yet again, only a short kiss that barely lasted a few seconds. I was certain my face was hot as I remained as confused as ever.

"Okay, so either that was another friendly kiss or a complete accident," I said, clearing my throat.

Her eyes lit up as she laughed, shaking her head. "Neither."

My heart fluttered involuntarily. "Neither?"

She rested her hands on my shoulders, pulling me closer. "I like you, if that wasn't obvious."

I exhaled softly. "It was, but I couldn't be certain."

Her eyes lowered to my lips as she smirked playfully. "Be certain."

I found my eyes lowering to hers too, enticed by her red lipstick. Well, if she liked me, what was I waiting for?

Finally gathering the courage, I cupped her cheek and leaned in, pressing my lips to hers. She hummed contently, relaxing against me and sending shivers all down my spine when she rested her hands against me for support. Kissing her was unlike anything I'd imagined and when we pulled apart for air, my lips were craving hers instantly.

"I've been waiting for you to do that for a long time," she admitted, words ghosting my lips.

I tried not to scoff playfully. "Easier said than done, my lady. You can't just approach a royal and kiss them, even if you do think they like you back. And especially not if they're a girl also."

Her lips curved into a smile as she stifled a laugh. "Fair enough. You have no excuse now though. You're my handmaiden slash bodyguard, remember?"

I gave her a teasing glance. "I don't recall that being in the job description. In fact, it's the opposite."

She met my gaze with her challenging one. "Good thing you're not much of a rule follower then."

I smiled, unable to hide it any longer, admiring her dark lashes, the slope of her nose, the slight smudge of her lipstick. "Yeah. Good thing."

#morgana pendragon x you #morgana pendragon x reader #morgana pendragon imagine #morgana pendragon #bbc merlin #merlin imagine #merlin #katie mcgrath

158 notes · View notes