#henry wilson x oc

[emotionalcadaver]

Series Masterlist

Fandom: Dunkirk

Pairing: Shivering Soldier x OC

Summary: When she decides to accompany the Dawsons on their voyage to help during the evacuation of Dunkirk, Daisy Preston has little idea of what she is actually getting herself into. All she knows is that there's tea, the roar of planes overhead, and the blue eyes of the handsome, shivering soldier they just rescued from a shipwreck staring at her from across the deck.

Word Count: 47,600

Notes: While all fics can be read as standalone pieces, those listed here are interconnected and can also be read as one long series. Please heed the warnings the can be found in the notes of each individual fic. All works are listed in the order I recommend reading them in. While this series is marked as complete, I may return to it should the inspiration strike.

✽ Indicates works with multiple chapters.

Fics or chapters that contain explicit smut will be marked with 🔞 and have the appropriate warnings listed in their corresponding notes.

Part 1: In the Heart of War ✽

Part 2: Broken Pieces

Part 3: A Remedy for Sorrow ✽🔞

Part 4: Scabbed Over

Part 5: Rainy Night

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

[elk96]

Until The Sun Beams Through 2

Henry Wilson(Shivering Soldier) X OC

Henry wakes up to find Sam missing, but on her return, a step to the right direction is made.

Warnings: PTSD, wounds, possible mentions of family members' death(can't remember)

H/c

Words: 1083

He squinted, trying to turn his face away from the damn sun that blinded him. He was met with the unmistakable force of the pillow and then the mattress, he couldn't turn over. There was only that slight gap between the curtains, the one that allowed the light to come through. Perhaps he should close it. He should. 

But he was too weak to even lift his arm-and the left one burned with pain. As did his head. And his back-and that stinging every time he inhaled…

He felt tears run down the corner of his eyes, spoiling his warmth. Something else was making him cold too, down at his thighs. Everything was painful, foggy. All he could do was wait until the pain swallowed him, drowned him, like the cruel sea had.

When Samantha came back home, she found Henry still laying asleep. She placed all her bags on the kitchen counter, thinking. At the end, she decided to wake him up. It had been fourteen hours since she'd sound him-roughly twelve since he'd fallen asleep. There were things to be done.

She was met with a deep, long groan as she opened the curtains and opened the window a little. 

She waited for him to wake up, sat on her chair as always. It took Henry some time to open his eyes, but once he did, he jolted away from her.  

She let him look at her like a frightened rabbit until he remembered everything.

"Good morning! I went to the village, brought you stuff".

" Do you need anything before I make us breakfast?"

"Are you cold"?, she asked lastly, a frown creasing her forehead as Henry shivered uncontrollably.

Tired of getting no response whatsoever, she sat on his bed-and immediately regretted it. 

Her heart filled with sympathy as she touched the wet mattress.

"Don't worry Henry…", she murmured, gently removing the blankets.

"I'll need you to stand up for a moment, okay"?

Spasms were still running over him, and…he was crying. 

Had her brother ended up like that before he died? Frightened out of his mind? And her dad?

She couldn't cry too, when someone was weak the other needed to remain strong. Her dad had taught her that, through broken bones and childbirths, her mother's passing.

"Can you move"?, she asked again with a sligh smile.

"Mm-I'm dizzy", Henry rasped out.

"I'll make you a drink for that, it will help. Do you want to give me your hand"?

Henry gave her the smallest of negative nods.

"I'll need to clean everything up, so you'll sit in the chair for a minute".

Henry shook his head again, his features altered by his shame. He didn't have enough strength to cry, but tears escaped him and it was so shameful to fucking weep like a child.

In an effort to minimize the trouble he caused her, he weakly lifted his body, grabbing her arm like a lifeline before he collapsed to the chair next to the bed.

He kept his eyes low as she brought her own mattress to replace the dirty one, and threw another pair of blankets over it. 

Before it was over, a loud bark left him moaning in pain, as his broken ribs convulsed in fear. 

"Don't worry, it's Dixie, she's outside, it's just a dog", she reassured him but Sam wasn't quick enough with the bucket.

This time it was only stomach fluids that spilled on the floor.

Maybe he should have died instead of going through all this. Agatha came to his mind, and Peter and Isabelle-and how he missed them. More than he missed his old self. The dog's barking made him hiss.

Before he knew it he was back to his bed, the floor clean, the sunlight replaced by the soft glow of the fire and candles.

With that terrible headache softening just a fraction, Henry found the courage to speak.

"Can you make it stop"?

Samantha looked at him. "The dog? She's here for her food too, she has a puppy to feed. If I let her in and tie her, she'll stop. But she will bark at first", she warned him.

If she was being honest, it wasn't necessary that the two dogs got into the house, but she missed their carefree presence. And perhaps it would help Henry as well.

"Okay", he answered with a strangled voice.

Samantha happily opened the door, closing it behind her before the dogs barged in. Dixie was a large mongrel shepard, their family dog fr over five years. Recently she'd given birth again, to two puppies, and after one of them died, Sam didn't have the heart to give Rick away. 

"Hello babies! I missed you, you were gone all day yesterday! I have a surprise for you, a guest. You like guests, don't you Dixie"?

Looping a rope through their collars, she brought them in. Henry tensed the minute he saw them, and Dixie barked a little, but she quickly got used to the idea of an intruder in her house. 

Both dogs waited patiently until their food was served, and then they layed on the floor, observing Sam's movements

"Don't worry, I've tied them up", she said as Henry eyed them suspiciously. "Are you hungry"?

"N-no".

"But you have to eat something", she complained.

"I'll just…it won't-

"Only a little bit of bread, please. It won't happen again, don't worry. This will help".

She placed a hot cup in the bed, next to a small slice of bread.

"Is that chamomile"?, Henry asked quietly, the furrow leaving his brow for the first time.

"Yes, with lemon and honey. It will do good to you".

"'M fine", he whispered, his cheeks already flushed with shame.

"It's normal. You went through hell and came back. Your healing is all that matters", Sam told him in a tone she hoped would make him understand. "Just let me help you, please".

He was beyond help- he had turned into an animal, but she couldn't possibly imagine, so he tilted his head, grabbed the cup, brought it with trembling hands to his mouth. The smell of chamomile itself was soothing, soft, comforting.

Memories of picking up the flower with his kids flushed through his mind, their giggles, their little hands getting all dirty and muddy, him helping them cut the chamomile without taking out its roots. 

He missed them. He missed their laughs. He missed their chubby faces. He was alive. But he couldn't go back. 

[wreckrinho]

silly sketch of Eny and Tobias! Eny is super annoying and loves to hate Tobias

btw I changed his eye color. now he has heterophobia in his eyes/ij

[pascaloverx]

Masterlist

FANFIC: AS IT WAS (bucky barnes x oc); (steve rogers x oc) (+18) COMPLETE

*pictures credits are not mine, credits to their owners

SEASON ONE

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

chapter six (M)

chapter seven (M)

chapter eight

final chapter

SEASON TWO

chapter ten

chapter eleven

chapter twelve

chapter thirteen

chapter fourteen (final)

ao3 link

NO LIGHT MASTERLIST

[roseberry-creates]

Red Flags

Aden being gay for a demon

YouTube link itself

other images

[eddysocs]

Primo Porno (Henry Desmond x Kip Wilson x OC)

Summary: Kip brings home a dirty video and tries to get Dawn and Henry on board, but they have other plans.

Word Count: 1,019

Warnings: Soft smut, threesome, porn video mentions

Kip came bursting through the door of their shared apartment, brandishing a VHS tape. Still dressed as Buffy, his wig was askew, his dress falling off one shoulder, and his left shoe was practically falling off his foot. He was truly a piece of work looking like he was. He stood there panting for a moment, sweat forming at his brow, undoubtedly from racing up here.

"Calm down, Lassie. What is it, girl," Henry deadpanned, causing Dawn to laugh. Kip ripped off his wig with his free hand to cool himself off, and took a couple of extra seconds to catch his breath.

Kip didn’t even try to mock Henry for the lame joke, he was so excited. "I just got us some primo adult entertainment," Kip alluded. Both Henry and Dawn shifted their gaze from Kip to the tape in his hand, piecing it all together.

"You didn’t," Henry accused.

"Kip, isn’t that a little…seedy," Dawn questioned.

"Nah, I mean sure, some is in poor taste, but this is the good stuff. Wanna watch it?" He really was like a dog with a bone over this, and even under the circumstances, Henry found it all a bit amusing. Dawn, however, was a bit more skeptical.

"I assume that is why you bought it," Henry quipped as Kip put his wig in the closet. Kip then made a childish face, sticking his tongue out at Henry as he went over to put the tape in their brand new player. For better or worse, they decided to go along with him, at least for a while.

It started off tame enough. The acting wasn’t stellar, but after having watched a couple of B movies recently, they couldn’t fault it as being all that bad either. The girl was a tall redhead, busty with a small waist, absolute perfection for this kind of role, though personally, she didn’t do anything for Dawn nor Henry. Kip could get excited at a piece of paper if they drew a pair of boobs on it.

The male co-star wasn’t all that much to write home about either. He was fit enough, but too tan, and his oiled up body was unrealistic for coming over to fix a leaky pipe. Not that X-rated movies were meant to be realistic, but still. Trying to ignore what they deemed its obvious flaws, Henry and Dawn patiently awaited things to start heating up, and when they did, they were even less impressed than before. Kip was eating it all up, but Henry wasn’t really feeling it and Dawn had had enough. When it got really graphic, she left the room, locking herself in the bathroom.

Henry noticed her escape immediately. Kip, still engrossed in the tawdry film, had to be elbowed in the side before he realized that Dawn was no longer on the couch with them. "Where’d she go?"

"Bathroom. I really don’t think she’s as into this as you are, Kip."

"You are though, right?" Henry shrugged. It wasn’t like he was disgusted, but it wasn’t doing its job of turning him on either. He much preferred just being with the two of them, no outside stimulation needed.

Kip shut the movie off and went over to the bathroom door. "Dawn? Are you okay?"

"I’m fine," came the muffled response through the door.

"Come out and sit with us," Kip invited. "I turned it off." Kip heard the knob turn and Dawn stepped out. She walked back to the couch and plopped herself on the middle cushion next to Henry. Kip sat on her left.

"I’m sorry I wasn’t into it. It was okay for a while and then I just started comparing myself to that woman and thinking that’s what you wanted from me and I couldn’t take it anymore, Kip."

Kip was shocked. He hadn’t realized it would have that much of an impact on Dawn. "No, I’m sorry. I should have asked. You know I don’t want you any other way than the way you are."

"Neither of us do," Henry supplied. "And to be honest, it wasn’t doing much for me either. I like it when it’s just us."

"I do too," Kip confessed. "I just thought I could spice it up a little. Guess I was wrong."

Dawn shook her head. "You weren’t wrong to try and spice things up," she began.

"Only the way you went about it was wrong," Henry cut in, causing the three of them to laugh, lightening the heavy mood.

"All you really needed to do was ask us how we could spice it up. This…wasn’t it. And that’s okay."

"I’m actually kind of turned on by you still sitting here in that dress," Henry said.

Kip looked down at himself, having completely forgotten he was still wearing the bright pink frock. "You serious?"

"I like it too," Dawn added. "Maybe you can let us help you get the makeup off." To demonstrate what she meant, Dawn leaned over and kissed Kip, transferring some of the light pink gloss on his lips over to hers. Henry was next, taking another layer of pink away from Kip's mouth. And soon they weren’t thinking of the makeup anymore. Or the dirty movie. Just each other.

Clothes finally came off, piling up on the floor beneath them. Fingers trailed over bare skin, causing tickles and laughter, the three of them now fully enjoying one another, their previous worries forgotten. Their moans and sighs mixed together and the teasing never stopped.

Despite a couple awkward positions, they never left the couch when they made love this time, figuring it as good of a place as any in their small apartment. And they remained there after for a time, a mess of tangled limbs, skin pink and sheened with a fine layer of sweat. Dawn rested her head on one side of Kip's chest and Henry rested his on the other. Kip didn’t know what he’d been thinking. Nothing could have improved upon this. This was really primo, and no amount of porn could even come close.

Forever Tag: @arrthurpendragon, @borg-queer, @foxesandmagic, @connietheecunning, @chickensarentcheap

Dawn Martin: @dancingwith-sunflowers, @smutember

[runnning-outof-time]

K’s Reading List — JANUARY

Hey there! Thanks for stumbling upon this reading list! I figured that as a way to support the lovely writers within this fandom that I’d compile a reading list of all of the stories I read over each month.

January was a wonderful month filled with incredible stories. Below is the list of stories that I read. I hope you will find some that you like as well!

As always, please make sure you heed to the warnings on each fic!!

💜 — denotes a story written for my 4K celebration

@garrison-girl-08

F*ck Buddies - Tommy Shelby x Reader (ongoing mini-series) — some parts contain 🔞 NSFW themes!

A Moment of Happiness - Tommy Shelby x Reader (mini-series)

Blind Date - Modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader (on-going series) — some parts contain 🔞 NSFW themes!

Paranoia - Tommy Shelby x Reader

@apricotg0rl

Dangerously yours - Tommy Shelby x Reader blurb

@cillmequick

Ignoble Sins - Tommy Shelby x Reader blurb

The Lockdown Sessions: Oppenheimer Edition - Cillian Murphy x Reader (on-going series) — all parts contain 🔞 NSFW themes!

Dangerous Liaisons - Tommy Shelby x Reader x Alfie Solomons — contains VERY 🔞 NSFW themes!

@darklydeliciousdesires

Devastating - Tommy Shelby x Reader blurb — contains 🔞 NSFW themes!

First Bloom - Tommy Shelby x Reader blurb — contains 🔞 NSFW themes!

Tommy Shelby x Reader blurb — contains 🔞 NSFW themes!

John Shelby blurb

@call-sign-shark

Of Bending and Breaking - Tommy Shelby x Reader

@raincoffeeandfandoms

The Lonely Rose - Alfie Solomons x OC (Fairytale AU)

Anon - Alfie Solomons x OC blurb

@zablife

All Mine - Tommy Shelby x Reader — contains 🔞 NSFW themes!

Ada’s Tour of the Library - Ada Shelby & Reader — dark fic use caution!

@blueeyesandaflatcap

Inferno - Tommy Shelby x Reader — contains 🔞 NSFW themes!

@noforkingclue

Misunderstandings - Carmen Berzatto x Reader — from The Bear

@mayfieldss

Point Blank - Tommy Shelby x Reader

Girl Dinner - Carmen Berzatto x Reader — from The Bear

@hereforhalstead

Pretty Girl - Jay Halstead x Reader — from Chicago PD

Interrogation - Jay Halstead x Reader — from Chicago PD

@sublimecatgalaxy

Tommy Shelby Blurb

@heavencanbeaprisontoo

Luca Changretta Headcannons

@dearshelby

Dues ex machina - Arthur Shelby x Reader

@peakyscillian

Back On Watery Lane - Tommy Shelby x Reader — contains 🔞 NSFW themes!

@emotionalcadaver

Broken Pieces - Henry Wilson x OC — from Dunkirk

@toms-cherry-trees

Don’t Hold My Hand (I’ll Break Your Heart) - Tommy Shelby x OC (on-going series)

@calummss

John Shelby blurb

@disasterofastory

Haunt Me - Tommy Shelby x Reader

@cljordan-imperium

Tommy & Charlie blurb — 💜

@halsteadlover

Our Little Family - Jay Halstead x Reader — from Chicago PD

@padfootdaredmetoo

Fathers - Tommy Shelby & Finn Shelby

Sacrifice & Survive - Tommy Shelby x Reader

@saintmuses

“when she laughs, the heavens hum a stun gun lullaby” - Tommy Shelby x Reader — contains 🔞 NSFW themes!

“your breath in my face, your body close to me” - William Killick x Reader — from The Edge of Love

@red-riding-wood

Lost in the Rhythm - Tommy Shelby x Reader — 💜

@writeroutoftime

Tommy Shelby x Reader blurb

@peakyscillian

Lazy Mornings - Modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader blurb — contains slight 🔞 NSFW themes!

[prpfz]

🌸 I am a 21+ roleplayer and have recently gone head-first back into my love for certain fandoms that I would love to find some partners to roleplay with! At the moment, I'm mostly looking for canon x canon. I would consider oc x canon or oc x oc depending on the plot and pairing. ✶ Marvel characters I'd like to write are: Wade Wilson, Bucky Barnes, Illyana Rasputin, Vannessa Carlysle, Brunnhilde, Sigyn, Druig, Helmut Zemo, Harley Keener, and more. ✶ Stranger Things characters I'd like to write are: Steve Harrington, Henry Creel, Kali Prasad, Lucas Sinclair, Barb Holland, and more. ✶ The Hunger Games characters I'd like to write are: Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Haymitch Abernathy, Rue, Johanna Mason, and more. ✶ MISC. Fandoms I'd like to write in: IT, The Umbrella Academy, Community, Breaking Bad, Avatar: The Last Airbender, The Walking Dead, and more. I'm open to platonic or romantic dynamics and any gendered pairing (mxf, mxm, fxf, nbxm, poly, etc.)! I unfortunately can not guarantee daily or every other day replies at the moment with my work + school schedule. My writing style ranges from literate to novella depending on the thread and I'm looking for 18+ writing partners!

give a like and anon will get back to you

[novella-writers]

I am a 21+ roleplayer and have recently gone head-first back into my love for certain fandoms that I would love to find some partners to roleplay with! At the moment, I'm mostly looking for canon x canon. I would consider oc x canon or oc x oc depending on the plot and pairing. ✶ Marvel characters I'd like to write are: Wade Wilson, Bucky Barnes, Illyana Rasputin, Vannessa Carlysle, Brunnhilde, Sigyn, Druig, Helmut Zemo, Harley Keener, and more. ✶ Stranger Things characters I'd like to write are: Steve Harrington, Henry Creel, Kali Prasad, Lucas Sinclair, Barb Holland, and more. ✶ The Hunger Games characters I'd like to write are: Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Haymitch Abernathy, Rue, Johanna Mason, and more. ✶ MISC. Fandoms I'd like to write in: IT, The Umbrella Academy, Community, Breaking Bad, Avatar: The Last Airbender, The Walking Dead, and more. I'm open to platonic or romantic dynamics and any gendered pairing (mxf, mxm, fxf, nbxm, poly, etc.)! I unfortunately can not guarantee daily or every other day replies at the moment with my work + school schedule. I'm looking for 18+ writing partners!

Like if interested!

[emotionalcadaver]

Part 1: In the Heart of War

Fandom: Dunkirk

Pairing: Shivering Soldier x OC

Summary: Henry’s nightmare has only just begun, and Daisy makes an impulsive decision that will forever change her entire life.

Word Count: 2,823

Notes: Warnings for depictions of war and references to past child abuse. Henry Wilson is the name for the Shivering Soldier created by the lovely people over @henry-wilson​.  

Previous Part • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 1: Into War

It was dark all around him, the boat rocking precariously from side to side beneath his feet. Despite the pitch black water and sky, he could hear the screams. The desperate splashing as men flailed helplessly in the water. Most of the soldiers seated around him on the little boat were hunched over, arms wrapped around themselves as they shivered. To his right, one of the men flinched at a rather high pitched scream echoing across the ocean. Henry settled a comforting hand on his fellow soldier’s shoulder, squeezing gently in what he hoped was some form of comfort.

On the other end of the boat, the men were plucking one last young man from the water. The boat tipped dangerously at the increase in weight. Bracing himself against the edge, Henry leaned his own weight backwards, trying to counteract the boat’s inversion before it overturned completely. The soaked man finally slumped down, into a seat, and the boat righted itself. Straightening, Henry stood at his spot at the front of the boat, squinting into the darkness in the direction of the shore. Nearby splashing, plus the sudden shouting of men from the other end of the boat, drew his attention. The man they had just pulled up was holding out a hand to a soldier in the water, but just as the boys’ hands met, one of the other soldiers in the boat lunged forward, attempting to shove the man in the water away. A second soldier scrambled at the edge of the boat, only to also be pushed back, the men already occupying the boat screaming that it was already too crowded.

“You can’t leave us!” one of them shouted. “Make some room!”

“Men, leave off, you’ll capsize the boat,” Henry warned, pulling his hat off of his head as he leaned forward, trying to make out the two soldiers in the water. “She’s gone over twice on the way out here. You have to stay calm, there are plenty of boats,” he tried to soothe, aware that his words probably offered very little comfort to either of them. It was hard to make out their faces, but he could tell just by their voices that they were young.

“Calm!? Wait ‘til you get torpedoed, then tell us to be calm!” the man’s final few words came out as an almost inaudible sputter as he was shoved off the edge that he had been clinging to and back into the water.

“You have life jackets?” he couldn’t tell in the dark.

“Yes, they do,” one of the soldiers in the boat confirmed. Henry nodded.

“Don’t panic, boys, the water’s not too rough, or too cold,” as long as they had life jackets, they would be fine. He wasn’t concerned that they would get pulled too far out to sea, or freeze to death. That was some small mercy, at least. “We’re heading back to the beach.”

“Let’s go to Dover!” one of the men called, a chorus of affirmations following his suggestion from the others. Henry all but ignored them, eyes focused on the two young men in the water below him.

“We can’t make it across the channel in this, lads. We need to get back to the beach, and wait for another ride. You men in the water float here, save your strength. We’ll come back for you,” he promised. “Oars in!” his command rang out, the men on the boat manning the oars immediately jumping to attention, the planks of wood dipping into the water, so black it could have been oil. “Together, pull!” the oars cut through the water, propelling them along and slowly but surely, back to the beach.

He chanced a glance back at the expanse of water behind them; at the dozens of little heads bobbing in the water as soldiers tread water and swallowed roughly. An eyebrow shot up at the sight of the two young men he’d turned away, clinging to a piece of rope that their friend who had made it into the boat had cast out to them. He pressed his lips together to keep from snorting in near amusement. Persistent, cheeky little lads. Oh, what the hell. Towing them wouldn’t hurt anyone, and if they wanted to be dragged along through the water behind them that was their decision.  

It was still plenty dark out when they made it back to the beach. Henry stretched his back out as he stepped out of the boat and onto the damp sand. Some of the soldiers wandered away, out across the beach. It was so dark they might as well have been swallowed up by the darkness. A few just sat down on the sand to gaze out at the waves crashing along the shore. Most began to make the trek back to the mole, to wait in line for the next ship. Hopefully this one wouldn’t get torpedoed.

He spent the rest of the night taking the little boat back and forth from the sight of the latest sinking ship to the beach, plucking exhausted, traumatized soldiers from the water. Their despondency was understandable. They’d thought themselves free; finally on their way back home where the bombs and bullets could not so easily reach them, only to be sent right back to where they had started.  

By the time that he finally took his place in line at the mole, the sun was just barely beginning to peek out from over the horizon. Thumbs drumming as he settled in for the long wait for a ship, he gazed out over the ocean, taking the briefest of moments to appreciate the splash of orange and yellow that the sunrise cast into the sky. After a night spent desperately squinting into the dark, the light of the sun was more than welcome.

And then there was the roar of the engines of German planes, hurtling down towards them from overhead, and they all scattered in panicked cries, diving down into the sand, eyes closed, hands cupped over ears, as they hoped for absolution.

∗ ∗ ∗ 

Daisy liked the way that the docks smelled. Wet wood, seaweed, and salt. She didn’t even mind the strong scent of fish that sometimes permeated the area when the fishing boats were in.

Pushing her hair back, she straightened, stretching her shoulders and rolling her neck from side to side. She would need to begin considering heading home soon. The sun was starting its descent across the sky and she didn’t want to be stuck riding her bike home in the dark.

The quiet hum of a yacht’s motor caught her attention, and she shaded her eyes against the sun to watch as the Moonstone pulled into the docks. The bright blonde head of hair belonging to Mr. Dawson’s son, Peter bobbed about the desk, readying ropes and joking with their ship hand, George. As soon as the boat was docked and the engine killed, the older man who captained the ship appeared on the deck. Daisy waved at them in greeting as she approached the boat.

“Need any help?” she asked, stopping to watch as the boys bustled about.

“No, no. Let the boys do it,” Mr. Dawson said. “They need the practice.”

“Thought that you’d want to know, we got word from the navy today,” she said, jumping up to sit atop a large crate, feet swinging. “They’ll be coming down in a day or two, to pick boats for requisition.”

“To go to Dunkirk?”

“Yeah.”

“About time,” Mr. Dawson said, looking suddenly very deep in thought. “You work at the library, right?”

“Yep.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing spending your time down here, then?”

Daisy shrugged. “Just like feeling useful, I guess. I saw an ad for help needed shortly after I moved here. I guess with all the men off fighting they were short staffed.”

“Well, we all appreciate it,” he turned at the sound of Peter calling for him. “I better go. Thanks for the heads up about the navy.”

“No problem,” she leapt off the crate, making her way back down the wooden pier. Sticking her head into the little office at the top of the ramp, she let Johnny know that she was leaving before grabbing her bicycle from where she had parked it. The ride home was pleasant, the air just cool enough to keep her from sweating but not too cold to cause her to shiver.

Her home was a cozy little thing, tucked away underneath a huge oak tree, with moss growing up the gray stone. It looked like a little cottage from a fairytale book. Locking her bike up, she opened her bright red mailbox, tucking the stack of envelopes under her arm as she unlocked the house. She was greeted with a big gray and white streak, laughing as the husky danced excitedly about her feet.

“Hullo, Ghost,” she greeted her companion, scratching him behind one ear. Closing the door, she tossed her keys and mail onto the kitchen table, stooping to scratch the dog behind the ears. “Let’s go outside, big guy.”

As Ghost trotted about the little backyard, Daisy examined her little garden plot and the colorful, assorted pots she had positioned outside, frowning. Her fingers brushed over a wilting leaf. God, she was a terrible gardener.

Trying not to feel too dejected at her latest case of black thumb, she summoned the dog back into the house with a whistle, giving him a bone to chew on while she rummaged through the mail.

The envelope carrying her sister’s familiar handwriting was a deep, emerald green. Chewing unconsciously on the nail of her left thumb, Daisy tore it open, eyes skimming over the words in the letter. Lips pursing at the suggestion that maybe, this summer, she could come back to Newport to visit. Tossing the paper onto the table, she leaned back, arms crossed. She knew that Violet meant well, but still that bitter seed of anger at even the idea of home flared to life inside her chest.

Violet and her father came out to Weymouth to see her a few times a year, but she never came to Newport. The best she could manage was to meet them halfway sometimes. Violet had made attempts to coax her back home before with no success.

There were just too many bad memories there.

But her father was getting slow in his old age and traveling was more and more difficult for him. She knew that eventually, she would have to just bite the bullet and visit. It would be utterly painful for everyone involved, and she certainly would have to stay with Violet, since her mother would likely never allow her to step foot inside the house she had grown up in ever again.

Maybe her mother would try to chase her off with a broomstick and a stream of profanities. Or maybe she would just continue to ignore her existence entirely as she already had for nearly twenty years. Daisy wasn’t sure exactly which one would be more preferable.

Ghost knocked his head against her knee, as if trying to distract her from her melancholic thoughts. Reaching a hand down to stroke his head, Daisy sighed, suddenly feeling very lonely. Granted, the isolation was in many ways one of her own choosing. But from time to time she still longed for a more tangible connection with another person.

Not that it mattered. Her life was what she had made of it. There was no changing that.

∗ ∗ ∗ 

The docks were buzzing with activity, the owners of the various boats docked there fluttering about. Two navy officers had arrived, dressed in their uniforms, and began moving from boat to boat, informing the captains that they would be acquisitioning their vessels. Men were scrambling to remove all unnecessary materials from the ships and load the required life jackets within the hour that the navy had given them. Young George Mills flew past her, moving at a brisk jog as he headed towards the Moonstone where Peter and Mr. Dawson were already hard at work removing plates and cutlery from the yacht. 

Daisy had been busy all day, trying to help everyone get their boats ready. Wiping sweat from her brow, she set down the final box belonging to a ship with a particularly nervous captain, rushing about the deck and worrying over whether or not the navy would approve of his paint job.

She stepped away with a shrug and polite smile, heading towards the Moonstone and smiling in greeting to George, currently holding such a huge stack of life jackets in his arms she could barely see his face.

“Want some help?” she asked, already stooping to scoop up an armful of the orange life jackets. George just smiled shyly and nodded.

“Thank you, Miss. Preston.”

“It’s no problem, kiddo,” she followed him onto the deck, taking a moment to find her footing on the swaying vessel before moving.

“Just stack them below deck,” Mr. Dawson said. Peter breezed past her, flashing her a quick smile in greeting. Mr. Dawson continued to fiddle around near the wheel. 

Between the three of them, Daisy, Peter, and George were able to make quick work of the life jackets. She could see the navy officers moving down the dock, a superior looking at a clipboard before assigning teams of soldiers to each boat. A frown pushed at Daisy’s lips. Reading about what was happening at Dunkirk had done nothing but make her feel useless, a feeling that itched under her skin and made her shudder with frustration. All those poor men, trapped and all alone… 

Chancing a glance back to the Moonstone, Daisy raised an eyebrow at the sight of Mr. Dawson’s expression as he glanced at the navy officers. Shifting from foot to foot at her position on the dock, she didn’t even consider trying to stop the old man. If he wanted to sail out himself instead of handing over the Moonstone to the navy, that was his decision. Her hands fiddled with each other. He did have two young men with him, though. And as capable as both Peter and George were, it may do them well to have another adult around…

“Ready on the stern line, George,” Mr. Dawson ordered. George stooped at the rope, untying it.

“Aren’t you waiting on the navy?” George asked, eyes big and curious. Jesus, he was so young. The navy officers were walking towards them. 

“They’ve asked for the Moonstone, they’ll have her. And her captain,” he straightened his back, turning to go to the wheel. 

“And his son,” Peter leapt onto the deck. “Thanks for the help, George. Miss. Preston,” he nodded in grateful acknowledgement. For a moment, her and George’s eyes met, and she saw the quiet resolve in his eyes. The decision was there before he had even made it. The boy took one step forward and hopped onto the boat. 

Oh, fuck it. If the kid got to go, then so should she. 

“What are you doing!?” Peter asked, looking at George in shock, then gaping as Daisy took the small jump and landed on the deck beside them. “You do know where we’re going?”

“France,” George said. Mr. Dawson turned to stare at them in shock from the entrance to the covered area of the ship that housed the wheel.

“Into war, George!” he said. The navy officers were staring at them from the dock, growing smaller and smaller as the boat pulled away. 

“I’ll be useful, sir,” George promised. Mr. Dawson didn’t look very convinced, but one glance at the navy officers watching them sail away made it clear that he had little choice in the matter. Daisy followed him as he returned to his place at the wheel.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” he asked, shaking his head. “War is no place for a woman…”

“It’s not a place for an old man either. Besides, you’re sailing out with two kids as your only back-up. You need another adult with you. I’ve taken a handful of nursing classes. It’s not much, but I’d wager I know more about first-aid than any of you boys.”

“Alright, alright. Just be careful.”

She gave him a little two finger salute before heading back outside, to look out over the open water before them. Out there, far away, was a battleground. Their army cornered on a little beach while the enemy closed in from every side. Had any of them had any sense, they would be sailing as fast as they could in the opposite direction.  

Sitting down on the deck, Daisy worried at her lip, hoping that they would actually be able to offer real help to the men out there.

Hoping that she hadn’t just made a massive mistake.

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Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

[elk96]

Until The Sun Beams Through 1

Henry Wilson ( Shivering Soldier) X OC

After she finds a man washed up on the shore, Samantha has no option but to take care of him.

Warnings: PTSD, mentions of family members's death, mentions of wounds and blood, English is not my first language, off canon

H/c and that's all, okay?

Words: 1737

A bomb dropped as they reached the beach. It landed a few yards away, but the way came crushing them to the cliff, broken wood and water destroying everything. People screamed, and cried out, falling silent as they died. And he was alone, panting, bleeding over the slippery rocks.

He sat up blinded by panic, fighting to draw in a breath because the water was everywhere, he couldn't -he couldn't- he'd end up alone on the rocks again and-

He hadn't realized he was screaming until a low hush startled him.

"Easy soldier. Easy. You're safe.  You're safe".

His head dropped to the right, a face there, blurred at the edges. Another hoarse scream escaped him as he jerked away from a grip. Something -someone- was touching him and he didn't want to be touched, he only needed to be alone. 

"You're safe! You're safe. It's okay"!, the form repeated, standing up, stepping back a few inches.

Henry was exhausted from his fight with the sea. Against his fears, his breath eased, his vision getting clearer. He was in a cabin, a house-an unfamiliar house-

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you", the voice said before he trailed off again. It was a woman. Young one, pale and scared. More of a girl than a woman. He breathed in, slowly this time so as to control it. 

The woman knelt next to him, a towel in her hands. She picked up the pieces of a broken cup from the floor, the towel wet from what smelt like tea. Cheeks burning up with shame, Henry buried his face in his hands. His muscles were still tense when he heard her approaching.

She's making extra noise, he realized, so I don't get scared and fucking hit her…

She dragged her chair towards him, looking at him with gentle eyes-cause that was the only way he'd bear to be looked at and not crumble.

"I found you washed up on the shore, less than fifteen minutes ago".

He tilted his head, wrapping his arms around his mostly naked body. He was shivering. He was cold. Again.

"I'm Samantha. -Sam. My dad called me Sam".

"I'm Henry", he rasped out , taking in her calm, sad demeanor. You should thank her, his conscience said weakly.

"I haven't cleaned your wounds yet", she said apologetically for all the pain she was about to cause him.

Sam fetched a tray with all she needed, while Henry reluctantly shifted in the small bed, so she could work on his back first. His head was heavy and the world a bit blurry but now he was distantly aware of a burning pain across his left shoulder blade. 

"Do you have anyone waiting at home? Anyone we could reach, let them know"?, she asked softly, running a damp cloth over his cuts. Henry hissed but did not protest. 'Anyone waiting at home?...' His heart sank in his chest, his wife and kids forever present in his thoughts. He'd been gone for so long, his comrades were all dead so…His family would've forgotten him by now, mourned him and moved in. No point in waiting on a broken man.

"This one will need stitches", she warned him and he realized she was removing a bandage from his arm. He gritted his teeth, taking it for granted that she didn't have any kind of anesthetic. He rejected the towel she offered him to bite, his attention fully focused on her fingers probing his skin. He heard the boiling water splashing as she dipped in the needle and thread.

Sam sucked in a deep breath.

"Ready"?

Henry nodded, clenching his jaw, and then every nerve on his body was gnawing at his skin, the needle poking and digging. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

A low moan escaped him when he inevitably needed to breathe, hand grabbing strongly at something. A last pull at his skin made him flinch, and finally it was over.

"We're done, it's okay. It's alright…", she coaxed him, rubbing the top of his hand, and Henry noticed with despair it was her thigh he was holding onto. He really  needed to leave before he did her serious harm. Like a starving animal, he was not to be around people.

Sam wiped off the blood on his arm, washing her hands. For a brief moment she disappeared to the next room and Henry relaxed. She returned, still making unnecessary noises, with a wet towel wrapped in thin fabric.

"It's for your ribs. I think they're broken. It should soothe the inflammation".

Henry pressed it lightly against his side, not quite meeting her eyes. With a deep sigh, Sam went to the kitchen to prepare dinner, hot chicken soup and freshly baked bread. She helped Henry-much to his embarrassment- to balance the plate below his chin while he ate. 

In the end, there was only bread left for her, but she was just happy to watch him eat. Her sole concern was that the battered soldier healed, both physically and mentally. One of them would take time.

Once the towel lost its coolness, she wiped the water off his body, reappearing with a blue sweater and a pair of trousers. The fire burning quietly had kept him warm, but he needed clothes to wear. 

"These were the smallest I could find. My brother was quite a giant", she smiled, placing the clothes gently on his lap. She helped him maneuver himself inside of them, happiness brewing inside of her. 

They were huge on him, but accentuated his eyes beautifully, and his brother's sweater on him made her weirdly… happy. Probably brought back memories.

The whole process had left Henry panting, despite Sam's fears of a sleepless night.

She arranged the pillows carefully behind his head. 

"It's better that you sleep kinda half-sat. For your ribs, I mean. Speaking from experience".

Henry blinked slowly, taking his time to process her words-his ears were still ringing from all the noise.

His body tensed when she carefully dragged him upright, but he controlled the urge to fight her off.

 He couldn't trust himself anymore. 

He was scared.

Always scared.

"I'll be next door. If you need anything, just call. Goodnight Henry", she smiled, and blew out the candles. 

He was sad to hear her movements fade into nothing, the unsettling fear in his stomach turned to panic when she left. He was seeing bodies in the dark, hearing the dull echo of the gunshots. Bile filled his mouth and tried though he might to control it, what good were these broken ribs? Every breath was painful, the situation aggravated by his fear of throwing up in her blankets, embarrassing himself in that way too.

Before he knew it, his feet led him blindly to the kitchen's sink, just in time. His body trembled violently as he spat out the little food he'd eaten.

Henry couldn't determine how many days he'd been in the sea for, or laying in that hostile coast, but it had to be a long time. This small incident had strained him of all his strength. 

He rested his forehead against the sink, arms splayed out across the counter. In an effort to fucking breathe.

He couldn't stay like that for long, he needed to get back to bed before she came to check in on all the noise. Fighting to stay upright he took the first, daring step, a second following. And then, another bomb dropped somewhere in his fogged out mind, and all else faded away. 

Sam was holding her breath, worried about the sudden silence. That loud gap had started her-it sounded like…a body….falling?

But she didn't want to walk in on him all helpless and make him feel even worse-but if she needed her help then…?

With a deep groan she left her bed a few minutes after, only to find him passed away near the kitchen counter. 

She lit a couple of candles.

The blood revealed made her cry out, because there was so much blood there, and Henry was lying limp and what if he-

She knelt to the floor, pressing her ear over his heart. She closed her eyes in gratitude at its steady, fast beat. 

She tore a piece of her nightgown-thank god she hadn't sewn the hole-and wrapped it around his temple.

He had hit the corner of the counter when he fell, resorting to a deep cut in his head and that pool of blood.

It was hard to carry him to bed, he was skinny and fragile and weak, and still so, so heavy.

Repeating the process she'd followed just an hour ago, she cleaned and stitched the large cut in his temple. He didn't even flinch when the needle tore through his skin, and it worried her. 

She revived the fire and then started searching around the small house for notebooks, papers, anything of her father's that might be useful.

She found nothing. 

"What am I going to do with you now"?, she breathed out, a hand absent-mindedly brushing his hair. She blinked a few times, trying to contain her tears, but it was too much.

She hadn't slept in months, suddenly left alone, but now a burden was added to her miserable life and she couldn't cry, not really, not when she might wake him up.

But who was she kidding, he wouldn't wake up, he didn't even when she was stitching him up.

A panicky breath made her open her eyes, jumping away from the trashing form.

This time she couldn't bring herself to murmur reassurances, not when the man was fighting  air. 

Her legs gave out and she slid down the wall to the floor, covering her eyes with her face until the hassle stopped.

She got up to find Henry searching her face, turning his own away when she looked back.

Without a word more, she grabbed the sweater she was knitting and placed her chair near the wall, away from him.

"Is the sound annoying"?, she asked after a while. 

Henry couldn't even hear the clicking sound of the needles over his own breath.  

"I'll stay then", she said. "Sleep. You need it. And if you fucking need anything-any thing- you come to me. Alright"?

Henry glanced at her with those wide, frightened eyes. It wasn't long before he, completely exhausted, drifted off to a heavy sleep. 

[maraxp]

this is a multifandom blog meaning that i favorite certain fandoms/characters so there will most definitely be more writings for certain characters and fandoms.

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[pascaloverx]

As It Was

Chapter Five

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Summary: Our protagonist engages in an intriguing game with Killian, a mysterious and charming man. Meanwhile, she orchestrates a plan with Steve.

Warnings: Use of explicit language, future adult content, potential depiction of physical and verbal violence. Minors are advised not to read or engage with this story.

Personal Note: Hello dear readers, I'd like to request that you comment on the story if you enjoy it. Your opinions will be taken into consideration for the future of the fanfic. Please note that this story involves multiple romantic interests, so feel free to share your thoughts on them. I'll aim to update the fanfic every week and appreciate those who share and like this fanfic. Certainly, imagine Killian as Henry Cavill. Happy reading!

Two days after the most bizarre staff meeting I've ever had, I was on a plane with Steve Rogers. It would be obvious to assume that Dave would be with us but he took an early flight to study the environment we will be in today and make sure we could access the great Killian.        

"Going over our strategy: you and I have been dating for a short time, you want something I can't give you so it will be easy to look unhappy around Killian. He will fall for the story of the woman unhappy in the relationship and will rescue you. Your job is to keep him occupied long enough for Dave and I to break into Killian's room and bug him. Understood?" Steve says while his face almost pressed against mine. He's been ensuring that every detail of our safety on the plane is memorized by me for almost two minutes, taking precautions to make sure I feel secure. I should never have told him about my fear of heights. He went through the safety procedures three times before remembering to brief me about the mission. At least he bought me chocolate and held my hand while we were taking off.

"Should I complain to him about you telling me how boring you find me in bed, or should I save that information for our second date?" I smiled falsely as he scolded me with his gaze. This man always seems to have the humor of someone a hundred years old or more.

"Do your best to make me look like a terrible man, but remember, the best way to lie about something is to believe your own lie. There's no use lying about something that even in your imagination you don't find true." He winks quickly as I'm somewhat surprised by his response. Who would've thought Rogers knows how to be confident. 

"Understood, Captain. Lying about things I think you might be terrible at and keeping a dangerous man entertained long enough will be my objectives for tonight." I say while gently locking eyes with my mission partner.

"Maybe it's a good idea to go over some details about us, considering we're a couple. So, girlfriend, what's your zodiac sign?"

"Your first question about me is my zodiac sign? I thought you'd be more creative than that, boyfriend."

"Go with the flow and don't judge my creativity or lack thereof. By the way, I'm a Cancer, since you asked."

"Surprised you know your sign, but going along with your 'getting to know each other' questions, I'm an Aquarius. Now, my turn to ask, what's the last song you listened to?"

"Unforgettable, Nat King Cole. How about you?" He says as he sits more comfortably to face me, I feel like I'm on a quiz show. I must admit that I'm finding it amusing to go on this mission with this rather surly, blond, attractive agent?

"Ordinary People by John Legend. Favorite color?" It's fun, this question and answer game. A great distraction.

"Blue, like the ocean. I think there is an inexplicable calm in looking at the sea for a while. It makes me feel like life has meaning. Your favorite color is definitely red." Steve Rogers says as he takes a sip from his decaf coffee. An interesting fact I discovered is that despite Rogers' lifestyle requiring him to be awake as much as possible, he's trying to cut down on caffeine.

"I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have been able to find that out in a dossier with my information. How did you guess?"   

"The bracelet you're wearing today, just like on our date, is red. Your dress that night was red too, and if I had to guess, I'd say your…" He analyzes me as his voice fades away, realizing he might be crossing a line. He then composes himself and asks me about my favorite book. When I respond that I really like Jane Austen's books, he smiles, commenting that he didn't picture me as someone who would be stuck between choices. We spent the next hour talking about superficial details of each other's lives. I found out that he chose a career in law enforcement because he was bullied as a child. He learned that I didn't spend much time with my dad but rather with an endless stream of babysitters. He had traveled the world, whereas I had only moved from one state to another due to my father's job. But he had never been to Turkey, where I went for my honeymoon. All thanks to my workaholic husband and an undercover mission he had to complete. After a while, I thought that for a fake relationship, we’ll need more than just knowing each other's trivia. Chemistry is necessary too. 

"Running the risk of sounding desperate for human contact, I have to point out that if we're going to pretend we've seen each other naked, it might be interesting to at least share our first kiss before that."  What's happening to me? How can I suggest kissing a man just days after kissing Barnes? Why did I want to kiss him in the first place? And why do I want to kiss Rogers now?

"I guess your logic is right. Pretending to be with someone requires physical contact, even if it's just for you to pretend to cheat on me. I also think it's necessary to see if you can do it." Rogers says somewhat arrogantly. His foreplay involves assuming that the person he's going to kiss has no experience, apparently. 

"I don't want to state the obvious, but I was already married, to someone I kissed almost constantly, so if you don't want to do this with me, at least admit that the problem is..." I can't finish the sentence because his lips are already on mine. Gently, very gently. Seconds later, it's like I want more. More of him and the taste of decaf coffee his mouth brings me. I hold onto his hair tightly, feeling our lips syncing. I swear, if a passenger hadn't faked a cough to interrupt us, I might have spent more time savoring Rogers. I was embarrassed, the idea of the kiss was mine, and I was the one who intensified it. Fortunately, we were saved by the pilot who announced that we were about to land. I settled back in my seat, not making a sound. As usual, Rogers had a serious expression, as if I had kicked him in the intimate parts. It seemed he didn't expect the kiss to be so intense either. Maybe it was his way of teaching me a lesson. I should be mad at him, but somehow, it left me more intrigued. I'll have to deal with these feelings later. For now, we have a mission to accomplish. Upon a smooth landing, we arrived at the hotel where Killian was staying to check in. I wondered if Dave made me wear a tighter, somewhat uncomfortable outfit because there was a chance Killian might already be here. Maybe having dinner with someone in the restaurant or sleeping with someone in his room. Thinking about how crucial it is to make a good impression on Killian makes me incredibly nervous. 

Just as we were about to go up to our suite, Rogers received a call. He muttered in a formal tone that he would need to take the call privately and that I should go upstairs and get ready for later. He didn't even look at me as he spoke, just headed towards the hotel entrance while I carried my suitcase. If I had known he would react like this because of a kiss, I simply wouldn't have done it. I try to pretend I'm not offended as I make my way to the elevator. I step inside, and just as I'm about to press the button, someone holds the door. Killian. His gaze is icy blue, capable of freezing my soul if he wished. His beard accentuates his mustache, and his hair seems to have been freshly trimmed. He's wearing a dark navy suit that looks more expensive than the hotel's daily rate. We're heading to the same floor, so I let him press the button. I can't help but react. In this moment, it feels like this blouse I'm wearing is going to suffocate me. I start breathing more rapidly, and he seems to have noticed.

"I usually make a strong first impression, but no one has ever been breathless just by seeing me." I end up laughing involuntarily, how embarrassing. His comment breaks the tension, and I find myself chuckling despite the awkward situation.

"Sorry to ruin your moment, but my shortness of breath is due to being stuck in this tight outfit for six hours, and I'm not a fan of confined spaces." I reply, trying to ease the awkwardness with a hint of humor. "Elevators and I don't really get along well." Killian cracks a smile, lightening the atmosphere as the elevator continues its ascent.

"You look beautiful, but if this outfit makes you uncomfortable, you should get rid of it. I stand by the philosophy that what doesn't help me needs to be eliminated." Killian says, his tone sincere. His words give me a moment of pause, contemplating the deeper meaning behind them. I find myself wondering if I inconvenience him, will he eliminate me too? The thought lingers in my mind, adding a layer of uncertainty to our encounter.

"I'll take your words into consideration and get rid of it as soon as possible." I reply, trying to sound confident despite my lingering unease. His piercing gaze softens, and he nods in understanding. The elevator dings, indicating our arrival at the desired floor, and we both step out, the tension between us momentarily dissipating.

"Should you require assistance, we reside on the same floor." Killian's voice, low and velvety, resonates with an alluring undertone. His eyes, deep pools of mystery, lock onto mine, holding a promise of secrets yet to be revealed. "Feel free to drop by anytime. Surprises tend to be quite... intriguing." he adds, a subtle smirk playing on his lips before he gracefully disappears down the hallway, leaving me captivated by his enigmatic aura. I was so captivated by him that I forgot to mention my fake boyfriend, and theoretically, I should be staying faithful to him. Damn. The realization hits me, and I can't help but feel a pang of guilt mixed with the lingering allure of Killian's mysterious charm. 

I enter the suite and I'm awestruck; the view is perfect. God bless whoever is paying for this mission. Oh, wait, that unfortunate person is partially me. But right now, my concern is getting out of these clothes and into that beautiful bathtub. Steve takes quite a while to return, giving me enough time to wash up and do my hair and makeup. But now, I'm undecided about which dress to wear. He walks into the room just as I'm staring at the clothing options for the evening.

"Regardless of the outfit you choose, you'll be perfectly appropriate for tonight. Just know that I will be leaving this room on time, whether you're dressed or not." Steve says sternly, his voice devoid of any warmth, making it clear he won't tolerate any delays. I feel a surge of indignation rising within me.

"Darling, I also consider it a blessing that you and I are having a rendezvous in Vegas, and I understand that we need to be pleasant so that a certain someone finds you attractive." I say, my tone laced with irony, making it clear that Steve should be supporting me, not treating me like a nuisance. My words hang in the air, challenging his rigid demeanor. He doesn't say anything more, just walks into the bathroom and starts showering. The nerve of this arrogant, know-it-all, irresistibly infuriating man. My anger simmers as I try to focus on getting ready, but his attitude lingers, making it difficult to shake off the irritation that courses through me. I decide to wear a black dress with golden accents and a slit down the leg. Dave has prepared incredible options to ensure I look impeccable. Despite my frustration, I can't help but appreciate his effort to make me feel confident and stylish for the evening.

Hours later, we were ready, and I would be lying if I didn't admit that Rogers looks breathtaking. He's so focused and silent that he doesn't even bother pretending he hasn't been ignoring me since the kiss. His intensity only adds to the tension in the room, making it almost palpable.

Dave sent an encrypted message to Rogers, providing directions for our next moves. According to Dave, he has the access key to Killian's room, and during the main party at the Kill of the Night club, Killian's security personnel usually tail him. This includes the hotel manager, who owes his life to Dave and happens to be an old fling of his. The intricate web of connections and secrets only deepens as our plan unfolds. 

"How can one simple, tiny, insignificant moment make you so grim?" I say as we walk toward the club. We don't make eye contact, but I can sense that if he were to look at me now, he'd have a deadly gaze. Not figuratively. There's an unresolved mysterious tension between us, and Steve seems to be struggling to contain it, his restraint only adding to the intensity of the moment. The air crackles with anticipation as we step into the nightclub, both of us acutely aware of the enigmatic emotions hanging between us.

"Are you saying our kiss was insignificant?" He stops in front of me. We're face to face, and I can feel the tense atmosphere seeping into my soul. The intensity of his gaze sends shivers down my spine, making it hard to breathe. 

"Don't pretend that I'm offending you. You're treating me like I'm a bacterial infection and you've taken antibiotics. So don't play the 'Mr. I'm offended to be called insignificant' moment with me." I retort, my words laced with a mix of frustration and defiance. 

"I'm just frustrated. That kiss wasn't professional. Nothing we've been doing since the plane feels professional. The last time I was unprofessional, I almost ended up marrying my partner and had to deal with the pain of a breakup where I constantly see my ex. I'm sorry if that insignificant moment threw me off balance." Steve admits, his voice a mix of vulnerability and raw honesty. His words hang in the air, the weight of his confession adding a layer of complexity to our already tangled emotions. 

"I know you have a bad history with unprofessionalism, but I'm not your ex. I was just trying to get closer to you. If Killian suspects anything between us, everything is at risk. So I'm sorry if it triggered something negative in you, but for now, we can pretend that moment was insignificant." I say, my voice softening with understanding. I'm trying to bridge the gap between us, to find a way to navigate the complexities of our situation while maintaining our cover. 

There's nothing more to say, but it doesn't matter anymore. We're in front of the club, so we enter into a silent agreement that we must move forward. The unspoken understanding hangs between us, and we step inside the nightclub, the pulsating music engulfing us as we immerse ourselves in the mission, temporarily setting aside the complex emotions and tensions that linger beneath the surface.A club was packed, the music thumping so loudly that it reverberated through my chest. The atmosphere was electric, a swirling mix of laughter, chatter, and the occasional burst of music. Amidst the pulsating crowd, a woman with long, brown hair approached Steve and me. Her eyes glimmered with mystery, and a sly smile played on her lips as she sized us up.Steve, for the first time, appeared visibly nervous in front of me. His usually composed demeanor faltered, revealing a crack in his facade. It was a subtle change, but I noticed; a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he exchanged a few words with the enigmatic woman. I couldn't help but wonder who she was and what role she might play in the unfolding events of the night. The air crackled with intrigue as our paths crossed, adding another layer of complexity to our mission.  

"What are you doing here?" they say simultaneously. And I realize, it's her. Peggy Carter, a respected former agent and Steve's former fiancée. The atmosphere around us shifts slightly as we acknowledge each other, the recognition of her presence adding a layer of intrigue to the already mysterious night.

"Mission, I'm undercover. You must know that Killian has been on the FBI's radar for years, and I'm here undercover." Peggy says, her tone calm and composed. The weight of her words hangs in the air, emphasizing the seriousness of the situation. There's a sense of respect between them, acknowledging the shared mission despite the complexities of our personal history.

"We're here together, on a personal trip. My love and I came to explore the beauties of Las Vegas, didn't we, dear?" I say, gently holding Steve's waist. I know he can explain the situation more clearly to her later, but for now, I need to pretend that we are indeed a couple. With my peripheral vision, I've already spotted one of Killian's guards. He could be anywhere. The need for caution hangs in the air, urging us to maintain our cover and blend in seamlessly with the crowd. 

"I didn't know you were dating. Some move on quicker than others..." Peggy remarks, her expression unreadable. The unspoken questions linger in the air, creating a palpable tension that remains unresolved. Steve and I exchange a glance, silently reaffirming our commitment to the mission and the need to maintain our cover, even in the face of unexpected encounters.

"You know when it's meant to be, it just is.” Steve finally regains his composure, uttering these words with a touch of irony. I glance at him, smiling faintly, but our attention quickly shifts as we spot Killian. I have a plan. I'll make Steve leave me for Peggy right in front of Killian, and he'll want to console me. Fingers crossed, I think, hoping my scheme will unfold smoothly in this high-stakes game of deception. 

"I think it's a lot of information to process so quickly. How about you ask her to dance while I go get us some drinks, love?" I say, giving Steve a peck on the cheek and casting a glance towards Killian, who is watching our direction. Steve understands my cue and extends his hand towards Peggy, inviting her to dance. The plan is in motion, and I hope it plays out as intended, creating the distraction we need for our mission. I try to appear upset as I watch Peggy and Steve dancing together, and in the end, maybe I do feel a twinge of oddity about it. Nevertheless, I forge ahead, pretending not to notice that Killian is nearby as I make my way to the bar. Keeping my emotions in check, I focus on the mission, ordering drinks and keeping a vigilant eye on the surroundings, ready for whatever challenges might come our way.

I order a Negroni sbagliato with prosecco at the bar, watching the bubbles of the prosecco dance on the red surface of the cocktail. I feel the blend of bitter and citrusy flavors dance on my tongue as I keep my gaze fixed on the glass, trying to ignore Killian's presence as he approaches with his intoxicating charm. Killian glides over with inherent elegance, his piercing blue eyes locked onto mine. I shiver down my spine as he smiles enigmatically, as if he's reading my thoughts. His voice is smooth and melodic as he addresses me, creating an aura of mystery that completely envelops me. While we observe Peggy and Steve from a distance, a silent game of glances and unspoken words unfolds between us, making the atmosphere even more charged with tension and intrigue. 

"Is this seat taken?" Killian says, his eyes locked onto mine, a faint smile playing on his lips. I smile back, pointing to the seat beside me while taking a sip of my drink, feeling a rush of confidence as I play my part in this intricate charade. He's dressed in a dark, casually stylish outfit, incredibly suave. I can't help but notice his strong hands, confidently holding the whiskey glass. The way he moves with assurance throughout the space exudes an air of mystery and elegance. His posture is impeccable, and his gestures are calculated, as if each movement is a carefully orchestrated part of his intriguing charm. Shadows play on his face, enhancing his striking features, while his gaze, deep and penetrating, seems to conceal secrets known only to him. He stands as an enigmatic figure amidst the crowd, a true master in the art of disguise and seduction.

"I thought a man who so openly showcases his ability to entertain visitors to assist ladies in uncomfortable outfits would already be accompanied at this hour." I say, my tone laced with a subtle challenge, testing the waters to gauge his reaction. 

"Perhaps I was expecting a visitor who didn't show up. I'm pleased to see you managed to look stunning and comfortable after our first encounter." he says, his voice smooth as silk, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. His words are laden with meaning, implying a certain level of appreciation for my appearance while keeping the conversation tantalizingly ambiguous. I offer a gracious smile in return, acknowledging his compliment with a nod, all the while maintaining the facade of our supposed connection.

"Perhaps I was expecting a visitor who didn't show up. I'm pleased to see you managed to look stunning and comfortable after our first encounter." he says, his voice smooth as silk, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. His words are laden with meaning, implying a certain level of appreciation for my appearance while keeping the conversation tantalizingly ambiguous. I offer a gracious smile in return, acknowledging his compliment with a nod, all the while maintaining the facade of our supposed connection.

"I appreciate your compliment, but I must mention for the future of this conversation that I am currently romantically involved." I reply, my tone polite but firm. The statement hangs in the air, drawing a subtle boundary between us, a reminder of the line that shouldn't be crossed. Killian nods in understanding, his enigmatic smile never wavering, but there's a glint of intrigue in his eyes, as if he enjoys the challenge presented by my words. 

"Such a pity, for your romantic interest, that is…" he says, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "Luckily, I'm neither jealous nor monogamous." His words carry a certain daring, a challenge thrown my way as he tests my reaction. I maintain a composed facade, acknowledging his statement with a polite nod, while inwardly noting the intrigue and complexity of the situation. The conversation between us takes on a subtle dance, each word and gesture laden with a delicate balance of power and intrigue. 

"From where I'm standing, you seem to be the kind of trouble a good girl should run from. Fortunately for you, I'm not always good." I reply, my tone carrying a hint of playfulness, masking the underlying tension that simmers beneath our exchange. 

As we finish our drinks, he asks me if I'd like to join him for a dance. And in that moment, I know the mission is finally about to begin. With a nod and a faint, seductive smile, I accept his invitation, my eyes locking onto his with an alluring intensity. There's a spark of curiosity in Killian's gaze, as if he's captivated by the mystery that surrounds me. The dance floor beckons, and with each step, I draw him deeper into the web of intrigue. The night is still young, and the game has only just begun.

[roseberry-creates]

some 2020 older art. no warning is required, it's just long

[inkyinkwells]

Welcome to the Inkwell Au!

ASK BOX/QUESTIONS RULES!

The ask box is now officially OPEN and ready to answer any questions, unless you read the rules down below! Please read before asking a question, thank you! - Zillion (Owner)

Rules:

Please be respectful of my AU and HCS, there's no reason for debate and arguing, you'll just be ignored and forgotten about. It's incredibly rude to be a negative person on this blog, even if you hate my views, just please move on!

Keep 18+ asks to a minimum and censored, don't just outright explain your weird kinks and fetishes you wanna see in characters. I'll allow such as outfits and positions.

Anonymous are allowed as seen previously on this blog!

You are allowed to hug characters! The characters you can hug will be listed down below.

You can ask me questions just no 18+ , I'm not comfortable when it's about me.

Don't spam the ask box please! One person can submit 2 questions only!

Do not harm any characters! You'll be ignored.

OCs will be included in this blog and drawn at a later time however their names will he listed, some are available for questions.

You can ask the benry (bendy x henry) children however the older ones will be answering the questions, their names will be listed.

PLEASE DO NOT MAKE FUN OF MY SHIPS AND DEBATE ME. This goes for bendy x henry, I have different views on their relationship, just leave me alone, I get its a controversial discourse in the fandom but shut up! It's not hurting anyone! Ships will be listed.

If you want me to draw your character (for the non-anons) just attach an image, I love drawing your guy's ocs!

DO NOT STEAL, TRACE OR REPOST MY ART. I WILL FIND OUT. Reposting is forbidden, I have a Twitter for a reason, soon I'll make a pinterest.

Don't try kissing characters please, hugs and head pats are allowed.

Characters for asks:

Ink Demon/Bendy

Henry Stein

Linda Stein

Joey Drew

Audrey Drew

Shipahoy Dudely + Crackle the Crab

Alice + Allison Angel

Tom Boris

Buddy Boris

Sammy Lawrence

Norman Polk (Projectionist)

Jack Fain

Wilson Arch

The Keepers

Betty

Porter

Heidi

The Butcher Gang (Charely, Barley, Edgar And Carley)

Bertrum Piedmont

Wally Franks

Lost Ones

Ocs:

Atlas Angel (Available For Asks/Questions)

Boaz The Unicorn (Available)

Kiki The Angel Demon (Available)

Cheshire (NOT available)

Zadikal Angel (NOT available)

Inky Angel (Avaliable)

Cupid Angel (NOT available)

Seymour Cloris (NOT available)

Rebecca Arachnid (Available)

Pie The Lovebird (Available)

Lila Stein (Available)

Swan (NOT available)

Axis Angel (NOT available)

Raveen Ravin (NOT available)

Seraph Angel (NOT available)

Sindy (NOT available)

Percy (NOT available)

Nondy (Available)

More to be revealed...

Benry Kids:

Older = Available For Asks

Leviathan (Older)

Endy (Older)

Tinie (Older)

Bendy Darling/Junior (Baby)

Classi (Older)

Wendi (Baby)

Allin (Baby)

Jasper (Baby)

Bammy (Child)

Zenith (Older)

Ships:

Bendy x Henry

Sammy x Norman

Allison X Tom

(That's all for right now...lol)

Huggable:

Bendy (In toon form)

Kiki

Buddy Boris

Sammy Lawrence

Audrey Drew

Henry Stein

(Not many but yeah...)

Thanks for reading and being respectful, another post with a short fanfic about the AU will be published soon!

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