#this is the only way I can tolerate this ship sorry *walks away in a direction you can't see or imagine*

[suchscary]

150 lesbian edition from last year

[dnickels]

RE: 5x05. I have no idea how much I'm supposed to read into this, but that has never stopped me before:

It's VE Day. Havers is back in England. The post office, telephone system, communication infrastructure etc all still work. So where is Cap's sense of urgency coming from? He knows the full name and regiment of a serving officer, a letter will get where it needs to go, they're very good about that over there. Yes, Cap's been waiting, but its been six years, he can wait a little longer-- hang out in the bushes until he sees Haver's car drive away and bang on the window, if he insists on being an insane person (<3). Figure out where he's billeted. Japan hasn't surrendered yet, so I suppose there's a chance Havers could get shipped to Burma or something and potentially die there, but he's not going to go straight from the cocktail reception to the troop ship, especially if everyone there is about to get "Hitler defeated"-levels of drunk. ("They're all red tabs, surely decency and decorum--" they are going to roll those old soaks out of there in wheelbarrows)

The urgency isn't because Havers might die. I think Cap knew his time was short.

He's a middle aged man in tolerably good shape, all that ration food aside. He make good time on his morning jogs, and his biggest ailment is 'creaky knees'. "Widowmaker heart attack out of nowhere" isn't an unheard of COD for someone who seems otherwise fine, especially someone who has been under a fair amount of stress (six years of wartime, including the fucking Blitz would do a number on my heart) but his sudden relocation makes me pause. It's only been about a year since he got relocated away from Button House, right? What was all that about? It's presumably still requisitioned, given that they're throwing a swanky victory party there and Heather Button is nowhere to be seen, but has the weapons program been disbanded? Or was there some reason to pull the CO out of a high-stress position and send him to the beach to take potshots at seagulls? (I am being glib here-- the coast was NOT a stress-free place when you can see your enemy just across the Channel). I genuinely forget what he said he was doing in season three-- was he even still in the army at all, or did they send his ass to the Home Guard? Even they got a campaign ribbon.

I think Cap made one last push to get to the front, and while its very clear that this dingus should under no circumstances be on the front line (<3) they humored him with a medical-- and found something really troubling. Or maybe he went in of his own accord, the old flutter, or maybe it was just a routine checkup. Either way he got some very serious news, so sorry old boy, just one of those things, could be any day now-- best make sure your affairs are all in order.

Hence the single-minded desire to meet, once last time. Everyone else clearly drove-- did he walk all the way from the train station, down the country lanes? Did he feel a little short of breath scaling all those walls? Did every set-back and stressor make him more determined-- just give me a little more time, just a little more time...

It could also be that he just got yelled at so hard he died of it, which is almost certainly how I will go, but that was my immediate impression and it has not left me, nor have I known peace. I know there's a few holes in my theory but I haven't talked myself out of it yet. For me the kicker is that he experiences at least ten devastating emotions in the last moments of his life, but "surprise at entering cardiac arrest" does not appear to be one of them. It looks more like grim acceptance. Stoic in the face of death-- a soldier to the end.

[donutsupremacy]

Withered Roses

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Summary

"Oh, how you'd secretly swoon over your own boss. It's hard to serve drinks to your customers when Diluc is always nearby during your shifts, unfortunately for you— It only took one look at Diluc smiling ever so slightly at Jean with a faint rosy hue to his cheeks, and that sent a flurry of pain inside of you... Physical pain."

Warnings/Spoilers

Written during 4.0

Au!Hanahaki disease

GN!Reader

Reader isn't traveller

Reader has a Hydro vision

Mild jealousy (Reader's side)

A hint of Jeanluc (Jean/Diluc)

Mentions of alcohol

Mentions of Dottore

Mentions of surgery

Reader dies

Angst

I SAY WE NO COMFORT AND 0% FLUFF TODAY

A/N: I have both an important exam in just a few weeks AND my finals about 2 months after that. So i'll have to hold off on writing oneshots/updating the SMAU. That means I can't participate in Kinktober— BUT I wrote a special Oneshot/Imagine type of thing for it, it'll be scheduled on Oct 1st!

No offense to the Jeanluc shippers I wholeheartedly find this ship okay I just don't feel like using Kaeya or Donna Jean seems like a better choice

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Your heartbreak begins here

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"Here is your order, sir." You hummed, placing a glass of wine in front of them.

The man slurred, already drunk after a few drinks with damp stains seen on the surface of his clothes, he certainly has a low tolerance. He thanked you regardless, before grabbing his glass and downing half of it in a single gulp.

You only nodded in acknowledgement as you cleaned the table, placing the empty wine glasses on your tray before walking away, leaving the drunken man alone.

The tavern was surprisingly calm tonight, unlike most nights where you'd hear a multitude of glasses clinking against eachother, followed by loud chattering and hearty laughter over glasses of alcohol. And that's why you loved working at Angel's Share, even if it can be a handful sometimes.

And the best part?; You always had your shift with Master Diluc.

"2 Apple Ciders for the couple upstairs." The red haired male hummed as you approached, his normally cold red eyes gazing up into yours, and you could catch a hint of softness in them. "The gentleman certainly ordered quite a lot..."

You chuckled at how annoyed he sounded upon seeing several empty glasses on the tray you held, sliding it towards Diluc with a sympathetic, yet, amused expression.

"It beats having that young bard over and repeatedly asking you for a discount, no? Though, I must admit— the tavern gets too quiet and calm without him, almost too quiet." You joked with a cough, taking the tray of freshly made apple cider.

"It's a shame that I have to agree with you... But so as long as you're here— I wouldn't mind spending time with you on a more placid night in the tavern." A rare sight to see your normally reclusive and stoic boss with a small smile, let alone chuckling softly.

You can't resist smiling at the sound of his laughter and his smile, your cheeks tinted a rosy hue at his words— only to look away with a quiet and awkward cough, flustered as you subtly fanned your warm face.

"Y-Yes... I-I enjoy your company when it's quiet here..." You laughed nervously as you didn't know how to respond, rubbing the back of your neck as you turned around, walking towards the stairs while balancing the tray in hand.

Diluc's bright red eyes stalked you as you made your way up the stairs, the corner of his lips tugging down at your reaction that he wasn't expecting— Was that flirt a little too far? Did he start off too strong?

On the second floor, you greeted the couple as you served their drinks, receiving a polite thanks from them. You gave them a quick bow and walked towards a nearby table, the customers had left, leaving their empty wine glass behind.

While you began cleaning the table, you hear the sound of the tavern's door creak open— and her voice.

"Master Diluc, I'm sorry to have interrupted you... I understand that you have your own duties to attend to, but was Lisa here this morning?"

You immediately peeked over the railing, spotting the familiar acting grandmaster speaking to your boss, standing under the light that made her natural beauty glow as bright as the sun.

You suppressed a sigh, but let out another quiet cough, pretending to be busy by cleaning the table as you could faintly hear their conversation from above.

"Yes, Charles mentioned that she had stopped by for a quick glass of wine... You seem troubled, is there a situation regarding the Knights of Favonious?" Diluc asked, you could hear that familiar sarcastic tone dripping from his words whenever he talked about the Knights of Favonious.

"As you have suspected, yes there is and I need to find Lisa for her assistance. You don't happen to know where she is at the moment do you? I can't seem to find her anywhere." Jean asked, brushing aside his tone as she sounded desperate.

You stole a peek, the first thing you saw was a sigh from Diluc before giving her a soft look. You blocked out their voice as you tried to suppress another cough, it was gradually getting louder now that Jean was here.

"I don't have any information regarding Lisa's location, but if you'd like... I can spare some time and join you to search for her." Diluc offered, the corner of his lips quirking upwards ever so slightly— almost a little amused.

Jean, looked around the near empty tavern, before leaning in towards him, her lips close to his ears as she whispered something to him with a calm smile.

Whatever she said was not calm at all, as you witnessed a faint red hue appearing on Diluc's cheeks as his eyes widened in surprise.

Cough!

"Hm?... Oh, good evening, [Last Name]." Jean greeted with a smile as her gentle grey-blue eyes gazed into yours, a calm smile plastered on her face. "I figured it's your shift tonight since Diluc is on duty as well— working hard as usual?"

'So gentle... so strong... so pretty...' That was the first thing you thought of when you first saw Jean, and that opinion stayed the same for many years; A kind, gentle and hardworking soul.

"Ah... h-hey... Yeah, but not exactly... it's rather calm tonight." You awkwardly waved, giving her a lopsided grin as your eyes dart between the blonde and the redhead. Your lungs felt constricted whenever you saw the two together, whether it was for official business or a simple chat.

You knew the two had some sort of history together— but you didn't want to prod your boss over something so trivial and personal.

Cough!

Your lungs. It's feeling a little constricted again. There's something soft and small sliding up your throat.

Cough! Cough!

You turned away, choking out coughs and grunts as you hunched over slightly, the familiar silky petal that travelled up your throat, brushing ever so slightly against the walls.

"[Name]...? [N-Name], are you alright!?" Diluc asked, he leaned over the counter and gazed up at you, visible worry in his normally cold and stoic red eyes. You stole a glance at him and Jean, noticing their worried looks as you cupped your mouth, waving a hand dismissively at them while you turned away and coughed as hard as you could.

The petal falls. Soaked in drops of your own blood and saliva.

The sight alone makes you want to throw up, the blood seeping into the crevices of your palm.

You looked around, having attracted a little too much attention from your customers as well. You couldn't just throw it away, someone would see the petal and freak out!

You decided to stuff it into your pocket for the time being, discreetly wiping away the drops of blood on your lips and hiding your now blood stained hands into your pocket, hoping no one had noticed.

"I-I apologise for the interruption, everyone." You spoke calmly, turning to face the customers as you bowed apologetically. "Please, there's no need to pay attention to me— carry on."

You hummed as you placed the last cup on the tray, balancing it as you walked towards the stairs, hearing faint whispers from your confused customers.

"[Name], I can hear from your voice alone that you aren't fine. That wasn't a simple cough, you seem to be sick..." Jean spoke softly, placing a hand on your shoulder as she gazed at you with concern.

You glanced at Diluc as he walks around the counter, holding a small cup of what seems to be warm tea. "I've noticed your coughing has become a little more frequent than yesterday... I was preparing this cup of tea for you a few minutes ago, please take a rest."

"Thank you, Diluc..." You let out a shaky and quiet sigh, having to wipe away the blood off your hands in your pocket before placing the tray down. You took the cup of tea, the warmth of the porcelain glass against the skin of your palms, gently blowing it and taking a sip—

COUGH!

You feel the warm liquid spilling out of your lips, forcing what you felt was another petal back down inside your throat. The tea stained your clothes, quickly setting the cup down as you hunched over, coughing out the petal that brushed against the walls of your throat.

So soft... yet, so uncomfortably painful.

"[N-Name]!" Diluc immediately patted your back, not too harshly but not gentle either. You only coughed more as a result, quickly swatting his arm away as you began panicking.

"[Name], a-are you choking!?" The blonde asked, trying to place a hand over your shoulder to check for any signs of choking. You immediately jerked away, the petal was abnormally bigger, you could feel it slowly sliding up your throat.

No. This wasn't a petal. It was bigger— it was starting to clog your airways.

Out of desperation, you ran towards the door. "S-Sorry!" You managed to choke out, using your shoulder to tackle it open and flee into the night, ignoring Diluc's voice calling out for your name, the sound of his boots clicking against the stone pavements close behind you.

You could see Diluc running after you from the corner of your eyes, forcing you to use your Hydro vision to escape, briefly dissolving your body into water as you slid away once you turned the corner. Diluc turns the corner as well, but paused upon seeing you disappear.

He skids into a stop, his expression held visible worry and confusion. You managed to escape, slinking away from him and to a nearby corner. The streets of Mondstadt City were empty, barely anyone in sight, save for the guards currently on patrol.

You reverted your body back to normal— it was a huge mistake. You collapsed to your knees, hunched over as you used up your strength to cough out the blood soaked flower, falling onto the concrete pavement beneath you, your fluids dripping from the petals.

A yellow hyacinth.

You weren't some floral expert, maybe you could ask about it to the young girl that runs the flower booth near the front gates of Mondstadt City...

After running so much, using up your Hydro vision and turning yourself into a body of literal water, the fatigue washed over you like a giant wave. You remained on your knees, dug into the concrete pavement that scratched and left marks on the skin of your knees.

You clutched your stomach with one hand as the other held the flower, your breathing shallow and your heart barely beating. It was hard to breathe.

"What the— H-Hey! Are you alright!?"

You flinched, immediately getting up onto your legs, but soon collapsing once more from the lack of strength. "Woah there! You shouldn't move so much if you don't have the energy or strength to do so!" You hear footsteps running to your side, a hand on your shoulder and the other on the elbow of your arm. "...I-Is that?..."

"...Yes..." You sighed quietly, turning your head to look at who was next to you.

Your eyes widened, immediately pulling your arm and shoulder back from the Fatui. "Wh-What are you doing!?" You hissed— Though, you don't have any serious business against the Fatui, Diluc has certainly influenced you quite well.

The man was taken aback by your sudden hostility, he quickly shook his hands and raised up his arms in defense. "I'm not dangerous, I swear!" He stammered out, backing away as your Hydro vision starts to glow. Only to be cut off by your coughing fit.

You fell to your knees again, digging into the concrete pavement, leaving a minor scratch wound. You clutched your stomach with one arm and the other cupping your mouth, hunching over as you felt the incoming flower slowly sliding up your throat with every cough. Yet, the more you breathed, it slinks down ever so slightly, causing you to cough more in an attempt to get it out.

The Fatui, unsure what to really do but noticing your suffering, quickly went to your side and landed a hit on your back. It wasn't painful thankfully, it surprisingly helped as the impact caused the flower to thrust up higher into your throat.

Eventually, you managed to throw up another fully bloom flower, covered in more blood than the last one.

You were weak. Numb even. You struggled to even support yourself as you laid on the ground and on the side of your body, coughing in a hoarse tone, your throat dry and burning.

The Fatui slowly picks up the flower, examining it underneath his mask while you remained breathing heavily on the ground. The blood dribbles down his glove and into the ground in front of you, your eyes trailing up his figure to see what he was doing with a blurry vision.

"A hopeless romantic, I see?" The man chuckled quietly with an amused grin, the mask he wore hiding the devilish glint in his eyes. You wiped the blood off your lips as you tried to pick yourself back up, scowling at his words.

"Don't give me that face. I can tell you're suffering." The fatui sighs, kneeling to your level as he held the bloodstained flower up. "I take it your love interest has yet to discover your feelings towards them? You have some spirit in you if you can keep on fighting until this stage— most would've just either tried to get their partners to reciprocate their feelings or get surgery immediately."

The metallic stench of your blood invaded your nostils, causing you to groan in disgust, shoving his hand away. "I-I don't... need your advice... if that's what you're... trying to do!" You hissed, rubbing your throat as you wheezed in between your words. You were feeling a little light-headed from the blood loss.

"I'm only suggesting it; If you can't bear the pain of your love interest turning you down— You can just get surgery, that way... you won't have to experience in the first place!" The Fatui hums, extending his free hand out to you. "You'll only suffer more until the last stage. You still have so much to live for in your life, do you want to throw it all away because of your feelings for someone, who you don't even know if they returned?"

You immediately slapped his hand away, finally getting up onto your legs, wobbling as you leaned onto the wall for support. "I didn't know the Fatui were an expert at gaslighting." You spat out, slowly sliding yourself across the wall, dragging your weak legs as you walked away.

"You'll simply judge a single man's words just by the organisation's reputation?" He snorted, watching your pathetic attempts at leaving. "So, you'd rather continue on to suffer and eventually die because you're too afraid of hearing the rejection? You'd allow the one person you desire the most— watch you die?"

You turned your head to glare at the man and stopped moving, irritated by his persistence. But at the same time... you're afraid to admit that he had a point.

"...I see i've struck a nerve." The Fatui snickered, walking over to you and looping an arm around your shoulder, ignoring the disgusted stare at his hand now on your shoulder. "You either confess now, or you can get surgery to remove the disease. Another way is; you can die."

How blunt. Yet, it's the truth.

You weren't confident about your boss' feelings for you. Sure, he may smile at you from time to time, but you're not the only one he smiles at. He's a stoic man who rarely shows interest in others or displays any sort of affection. He rarely even shows his actual feelings.

The more you thought about Diluc, the more your heart began to ache, questioning if he found you as more than just a co-worker. More than an employee. If he just found you as... just a friend.

If you weren't so head over heels for him, being his friend would've been enough. But no, you would freeze to death on Dragonspine just for him, if he could just say those 3 words of affection towards you. You'd do anything for him.

"...Have you heard of a doctor in Snezhnaya?"

"Who?"

You rose a brow at the Fatui, who can't help but snort at the way you immediately answered without even trying to think about who it was. "A famous doctor in Snezhnaya. He's a generous notorious for treating thousands of diseases, in fact— he's done quite a lot of surgeries regarding this particular one."

The Fatui then extended his hand out to you, the mask continuing to disguise the deceptive glint in his eyes, only showing you a kind smile. "You could continue to perish over time... Or you can trust this one lone Fatui, travel to Snezhnaya with him and get treated by the doctor..."

"I promise, I won't do anything to you. I don't even have a Vision I can use to fight back against you." He added, patting his clothes while holding his arms up in defense. If he were to even throw a punch at you, you could easily retaliate and use your Hydro Vision to counterattack.

However, with your current condition, you're not sure if you can even walk without having to rely on someone for support.

As you feel the air tense, your throat slowly restricting with your own feelings, you had no choice but to look at him in the eyes. Holding your throat, you can barely utter out another word.

He chuckles, already understanding your decision as you took his hand. His grin widens

"Very well... let's go see 'The Doctor'."

[Timeskip]

Diluc was frantic. Panicking even.

It's been weeks since you last disappeared without a trace. He's been searching every corner in Teyvat for you, neglecting his duties, the vague letter you wrote barely calmed his nerves. It almost felt like you didn't write it yourself, it looked rushed, as if you were escaping from someone while writing it.

Or, at least that's what he assumes... He recognised how different your handwriting was on the 2nd day you went missing.

You told him everything. Your feelings, your disease and your decision to get rid of it permanently, along with your love for him. He didn't want that. He wanted to find you, to hold you in his arms, bury his face into the back of your neck as he begs you to confess your feelings to him right at his face. To hear those 3 words of love he had been craving to hear everyday.

So he had been having some of his other employees take over both of your shifts, spending most of his time looking everywhere for you, even travelling to Liyue and Sumeru just to look for you. He even went as far as to begging Jean to send out some knights in search of you. Of course, she obliged— knowing just how much the both of you meant to eachother.

Not a single strand of your hair was found.

There he was in his office, running his hand into his red hair, disheveled and frantic about your sudden disappearance, standing next to a bookshelf that had a small pile of letters from you. Despite receiving your letters once per day, you never hinted your location once, only reassuring him that you were fine. All he could do was pray to the archons above that you were fine.

"Master Diluc?... Someone has sent a package for you. However, the package does not show the sender's information." Adeline's words startled him, he cleared his throat, fixing his attire as best as he could before speaking in his usual stoic tone.

"Thank you, Adeline... just leave it on my table." He murmured, keeping his eyes glued to the most recent letter you sent. Like most of the letters you sent, it was short and had little to no description of where you were.

The maid lets out a quiet sigh, placing the small box down on his table wordlessly, bowing before exiting the room.

"...I'm sorry, Master Diluc." Was the last thing she whispered, before closing the door, knwoing he would need privacy after taking a look at what would be in the box.

The Pyro vision wielder opened his mouth to question her words, but refrained as he could hear her sympathetic tone. He grits his teeth, seeing the tape on the package's sealing cut into a neat line. She had likely saw what was inside.

He stares at the packaging, there were no stamps or notes... It was anonymous. Of course, he was obviously weary and hesitant, it could be a trap for him. Or some sort of prank.

Yet, the thought of the package possibly coming from you made him a bundle of nerves.

Desperate to at least know you're still safe and sound, he hesitantly walks over to it, opening it slowly.

"...!?—"

His red eyes widened, muscles tensing as his blood ran cold. He nearly tore the packaging apart, almost hunching over and throwing up his breakfast, the amount of overwhelming emotions were already tearing him apart, chunk by chunk.

Fear, anxiety, pain; That was what he saw all at once upon seeing a bloody yellow hyacinth... and a masterless vision inside.

The more he stares at the dried blood stains on the flower's petal and the box's interior, along with the familiar design of the vision— underneath both of it was a neatly folded paper, stained in dried blood as well.

Heavy and ragged breathing filled the room, endless thoughts of you flooded his mind. He picks up the vision first— cold. That's how the vision felt. A cold, empty husk.

The flower, it was dried slightly, close to wilting. The petals were losing their colour and curled slightly.

He places the glower down next to the box as he slowly reaches for the note underneath, brushing his gloved fingers against it before picking it up with hesitation.

Dear Diluc,

By the time you have received this letter, I have likely finished my surgery and have begun my recovery. I apologise for my lengthy absence, I didn't mean to leave my duties abruptly... But I had to act quickly, I didn't want to risk our friendship either. I know i'm nothing but an employee to you... but I hold you in high regards; as a good friend to me. I wish we could be something more.

But I see that this is the best solution for the both of us; I didn't want to trouble you or leave you the guilt for not reciprocating my feelings. I know there is someone out there that deserves to be your significant other. Not me. I would like us to remain friends at the very least.

May the wind reunite us once more.

He felt his heart swell at your letter, regret washing over him like a large wave that held him back for not reaching out to you sooner. For being a coward. His fingers clutched the paper, eyes rereading every single word you had written. All the love you wanted to shower him with, all the love he wanted from you.

And then— he sees it.

P.s. Thank you for the new test subject, Ragnvindr.

It was like a stab through the heart, recognising that handwriting. He recognised it. And he felt like shredding the letter into pieces.

His legs gave out, collapsing into his knees as he drops the paper underneath him, not only stained with dried blood that was likely for you. But now joined by his tears of pain and despair.

He chokes out his cries, clutching his chest as he stares at the letter underneath him, his tears continuing to fall thoughts and whispered filled his head, sending him into a spiralling madness as he lets out a frustrated scream.

With you gone, the only way the two of you could once again reunite; Were his tears soaking into the sheet of paper, mixed into the dried bloodstains that belonged to you. Your death was his regret, and his pain was yours.

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Yellow Hyacinth

-Only has one meaning; Jealousy.

[whumpcloud]

Things End | People Change - Go For The Throat

taglist: @whumpsday @whumpycries @whumpwillow @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @whumpshaped @suspicious-whumping-egg

content: lady whump, vampire whumper, kidnapping, begging, fear of death, defiant whumpee

He's always hated silence. Too many things creep into his mind when it's silent. He walks with heavier footsteps, trying to drown it out.

He hears them, hundreds of little heartbeats, from the windows, down the alleyways. There was a time where this wasn't the case, but it's so far away now that even the idea seems fanciful.

He was human, once.

Vincent Maddox was an Oxford student studying classics. Vincent Maddox was barely an adult, isolating himself in a foreign country, when he met someone who he felt respected him, who offered him the chance to feel that again. Vincent Maddox was naive and trusting.

Vincent Maddox died when he was twenty-two, and he's still walking around, trapped in his own corpse.

He breaks the fence he kicks and it doesn't lessen his frustration in the slightest. He was too polite, too demure to ever take his anger out like this when he was human, and there's zero release in it when he could rip almost anything apart with his bare hands without even trying.

When was the last time he cried? Perhaps it was on the ship back to England in 1846. 1844? Does it matter? It should, shouldn't it? Perhaps it was when he visited Henry's grave in… it must have been the 1910s, before he finally did. Long after Henry had died. Vincent remembers begging his brother's gravestone for forgiveness, but he isn't sure if he cried.

Vincent covers his mouth with his hand. The tight feeling in his chest is just that - a feeling, with nothing he can do to stop it.

It needs it to stop. He needs to make it stop. He wants it all to stop!

"Are you alright?"

Vincent's gaze snaps up towards the source of the voice. A young woman is staring at him, head tilted in concern. Human. Her heart thumps softly.

"Am I alright?" he whispers.

"That's what I asked," she smiles. Is she trying to make him feel better? Her smile is nice.

"It's late," he mumbles. "Dangerous."

"Here? What's gonna get me out here, huh?" She raises an eyebrow. "You? I could beat you up."

He finds himself lightly laughing at that. Not maliciously, not because she's wrong. It's just the way she says it. The confidence in her tone.

When was the last time he laughed and meant it?

She sticks out her hand. "I'm Clary. Anything I can do to help?"

Stay. He swallows. He is stronger than her. He could grab her hand and take her with him before she could even blink.

What is he thinking? He doesn't know her at all. He can't be so achingly lonely that this is all she needs to do for him to decide he needs her.

He needs someone. He isn't friends with any of the vampires around here. Sure, they'll tolerate his presence, but he hears second-hand about gatherings. Sometimes he thinks about searching for Lyfelde, being somebody's companion again, but then the scar under his eye itches and he remembers how terrifying it was to wake up like this, and he banishes the thought from his mind.

Clary waves her hand a little bit. "Hello?"

"S-Sorry," he mumbles. "Vincent."

He takes her hand, and he makes the decision almost on instinct. Hand over her mouth, arm around her torso, and he runs, dragging her with him, in no more than a second.

She starts to scream and kick, but holding her just a little tighter makes her stop. Did he crack her ribs? He hopes not, he hopes he can do this without injuring her, but he's never been able to control his strength. Lyfelde tried to teach him, but Vincent left, and lied, and it's so much effort to not damage things.

His place is close by, and he just breaks the lock on his front door instead of trying for the keys buried in his coat. There's an extra bedroom he never uses, the only room in the house with a window - he bought this place before the repeal of the window tax and never bothered to reinstall them - and he drags Clary into it and pins her to the floor.

She gasps. "Y-You fucking-!"

"Be quiet!" he hisses, trying to sound threatening. "Just be quiet, okay?"

"Make me!" she spits.

It takes a moment of wrestling with her, but he grabs both her wrists in one hand, pinning them above her head, and covers her mouth with the other.

"Shh," he says, softly, in that slightly menacing way that he's seen other vampires do, just in the hopes that it works. "Just shh. Everything will be fine. I won't hurt you."

He smiles, showing his fangs. Her heartbeat quickens, but she doesn't let it show on her face, not even a little. Brave. He knows that humans are aware of vampires, but their day-to-day life is, for the most part, unimpacted. It's one of those things that they always think happens to other people.

Clary swallows. He doesn't seem interested in killing her, that she can tell. She nods, and stays quiet. He removes his hand from her mouth.

"Okay, good," he says. He runs his fingers through his hair. "Clary. You're Clary."

"Mhm," is all she replies.

"This is going to be your room, okay?" Vincent says. "If you want anything else for it you can ask."

"Y-You can't-" She bites her tongue. Rephrase. She doesn't know if she can risk pissing him off. "You're keeping me here?"

"Yes," he responds. His voice seems to… tremble? "Keeping you. You're mine."

As soon as the word leaves his mouth, his smile returns.

"Mine." His fingers find their way to her chin, tilting it slightly. "I like the sound of that."

Clary glares and flinches away. "Fucking freak."

He digs his fingers into her skin. "Don't speak that way. I hate swearing."

"And how are you gonna stop me?" He's bruised her plenty, but she's already pushed, so she might as well keep going and see what else he'll do.

"Can't you be nice?" he snaps. "You were being nice."

Clary blinks at him. "What?"

"Is it so hard?" Vincent's grip on her wrists tightens. "All I'm asking is for you to keep me company, and let me have some of your blood. That's it."

Clary genuinely can't help it. She isn't a patient person, and she isn't easily scared, either, even though she knows what a vampire could do to her if they wanted to. Danger isn't real if it isn't happening, and really, what is he doing to her right now?

She snickers.

"What… what are you laughing for?" Vincent seems more confused than anything, and that's Clary's cue to go for the throat.

"You want company." She grins. "You couldn't get anyone else to hang out with you? You're so unlikeable that you had to kidnap some poor little human to get a friend?"

"Sh- Shut up!" Vincent grabs her by the hair, but she doesn't react, even though she swears she feels him pull a few strands out. "I said I wouldn't hurt you, so don't make me, okay?"

"What made you do it?" she asks, leaning up. "Because you were upset? I bet you were crying about something stupid and it just made you so happy that someone was finally nice to you. Fucking loser."

Vincent doesn't say anything. His eyes flash, and he pulls Clary's head up and to the side so he can sink his fangs into her neck. She gasps with the sudden pain, a sharp sting that only gets worse the longer it goes on. And he just keeps going.

She pulls at his shirt, kicks, scratches, and it doesn't do a thing. "S-Stop, stop it!"

Her hands are becoming clammy and cold, and she shakes. It's too much. He really is going to kill her, she went too far and Cai is going to have to identify her drained, dead body, and she doesn't want to die.

"P-Please!" she tries. "I'll be nice, if you want me to be nice! Stop, don't kill me, please don't kill me!"

Vincent's grip tightens for a moment, and he lingers, then lets go. Drops of blood trickle down her neck. She whimpers softly.

He wasn't going to kill her. He thought he would, for a minute there, but he never would have. It wasn't even the begging that stopped him.

He doesn't want to be alone again. Even if she's going to snap at him, he can… fix that. He's not the first vampire to take a human, and he certainly won't be the last. There's people he can ask, and they might smile and say he's done well, or even, at least, seem proud of him for something.

"Just… relax, okay?" he says softly. "I'm going to lay you down."

Clary lets herself be lifted up and placed down on the bed. It's clearly had no use for years, and that could be any number, depending on how old Vincent is. But it's a bed, in a windowed room, and frankly she could be worse off.

"Rest as much as you need," Vincent says, putting the blankets over her. "I want you to be okay."

"How could you think this was a good idea?" she mutters.

Because I'm alone. Because you were nice. Because I can't take being like this anymore. Because the consequences of my own actions are crushing me and I need someone to tell me it wasn't a mistake, even if they're lying, I just need to hear it, please.

"Because I can do what I want," is his reply. "Get some sleep."

He walks away and locks the door behind him. Clary supposes sleep would be nice, and turns away from it.

[auxiliarydetective]

My OCs as Flatmates, Part 2

Includes: Aurelia, Cora, Lily

The One Piece part, for some reason. I swear, I didn't plan for this. If you want to hear these sort of headcanons for some of my other OCs, let me know!

@marzena-doe and @oneirataxia-girl both asked for...

↬ Aurelia !

I need to make one thing very clear here. You're in her house and she can and will throw you out whenever you get on her nerves too much. It will probably take a long time for her to warm up to you.

One of the best things about living with her is you don't need to worry about money, food or security, and in the World of One Piece, that's a really big advantage. There's hardly a safer space across the seven seas than her home. She'll make sure you have good things to eat and drink, you have nice clothes (because you are not walking around her home in rags) and maybe gift you some jewelry if she's feeling generous. All in all, she's not exactly the most outgoing or affectionate, but if she tolerates you in her home, you might find yourself having dinner with her once in a while, sitting by the fireplace together... all those things.

Another great thing about Aurelia is her vast knowledge about the world and what's happening in it. She's got metaphorical eyes and ears everywhere and knows a lot about all sorts of political or otherwise impactful events. Also, about how the world works in its wacky ways. The seas, the skies, the wildlife, and people themselves... She knows how to fight, too, and might just be the best teacher when it comes to a certain technique based on willpower if you are blessed enough to have it. Generally, you can learn a lot of things from her (and you might just end up being adopted into her circle of poor little meow meows children).

@supermarine-silvally asked for...

↬ Cora !

Cora, my beloved. You're right, Cora is somewhat messy! But only really in her workspace. Her workspace is cluttered as all hell, but she still manages to find anything she needs (because she can summon it with her devil fruit or just sense where it is). Occasionally, she'll also leave some of her projects around the house or something if she was working on them somewhere else, but then the clutter will all be in one pile that you can easily scoop up and move.

Generally, Cora is so freaking considerate. Overly considerate even. She will back away first before trying to reason with you. At least until she gets really comfortable with you. She also knows how to cook, at least somewhat, and she would love to cook with you because it's fun and it's a bonding activity for her. Also! She will definitely make you clothes, whether you ask her or not. At some point, she'll just start sketching designs for you and give you the puppy eyes until you say yes to trying them. She'll also fix your favourite clothes for you. Your favourite shirt has a hole in it? Not anymore! Seam came loose on your jeans? It's back where it used to be. This also extends to stuffed animals if you have those! No questions asked, she'll stitch your favourite teddy back up and make him a cute little jacket to go with it.

She might be a bit anxious about a lot of thinks though. Personal space is definitely one thing, but she might also want to roughly know when you go out and get back, just so she has a vague idea of when you're at home and when she'll be alone. Also, she might bring some of the Straw Hats over occasionally if you're okay with it. She lets Luffy come over once and never again but the others might be there a bit more often. Especially her boyfriends. She asks them for help with chores sometimes or shows them her designs. It's really adorable.

@oneirataxia-girl also asked for...

↬ Lily !

Why are you living with a child? Who knows, but you're a parent now. Sorry, I don't make the rules. You have to understand that, if you're living with Lily, you're gonna have to do at least some parenting. This is a child with strong mood swings and very little experience in the world outside of ships and mansions, so you're gonna have to teach her some things and take care of her.

But, that aside, she's really nice! She's considerate (or at least she tries), she loves to do pretty much any activity with you, she doesn't mind doing the chores... Also, if you're someone who likes cuddles, she's got you. She loves them. And she's got soft, big ears and a tail... I also imagine she's naturally pretty warm.

Emotions-wise, Lily is usually pretty cheerful, but she's not really the best at comforting you when you're down. She might show up to your room with some hot chocolate instead.

She's definitely messy. Not because she doesn't care but because she forgets. You'll have to remind her to do the dishes every once in a while or she'll forget the laundry, but she's trying. She's definitely trying. But she's also very easily distracted by literally anything. Also... don't expect her to be too good at running errands, at least not in the groceries department. Do not let her into a grocery store on her own, she will come back with more sweets than intended and maybe even a toy or soemhing. Give her a list and she'll hopefully get everything you need though.

If you're ever overwhelmed with her, call Sanji. Or one of the other responsible Straw Hats (i.e. not Luffy). They'll figure things out.

So yeah, that's it for part 2! Hope you enjoy! :)

Also I do not have the time to proofread this, please forgive me. My mind is mashed potatoes.

[emoprincey]

Fangs and Cutlasses (chapter 3)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | This is chapter 3!

Taglist: @the-duke-of-nuts

The pirate ship never truly slept. Even when the sun had gone down, there were a good number of people patrolling the decks, keeping an eye out for any change in the weather or enemy attacks. Either Remus or Janus would stay up through the night, and Remus always liked to do a last circuit of the ship before he went below deck, to check everyone was in position.

He’d almost completed his circuit when he spotted a lone figure leaning on the railing of the ship.

“Hey,” he said.

Patton looked up in surprise. “Oh, hi.”

“Where’s Ro?” Remus asked. He hadn’t gotten much chance to talk to Patton since he and Roman came aboard.

“He already went to bed. I told him I’d join him in a minute,” Patton said, returning his gaze to the ocean. For a moment, Remus thought he’d finished talking, but then Patton sighed, not turning away from the sea. “I miss the ocean,” he said, distantly. “I grew up right by it, probably spent as much time swimming or sailing as I did on land at one point. I always loved the feeling of being out on the water, being carried and held afloat by the waves. The lakes around the village were nice, but they weren’t the same to sail in. Nothing can come close to being completely surrounded by the ocean.”

Remus hummed in agreement, thinking about the feeling he got when he steered the ship. He always felt so small, a speck in the middle of the vast ocean. It was comforting, in a way. “I never met you in the village,” he said.

Patton shook his head. “You wouldn’t have. I moved there with my family about three years ago. You’d probably already... I mean...”

“Been kicked out?” Remus supplied.

Patton winced. “Yeah, sorry.”

Remus shrugged. “It’s whatever, I don’t really care anymore. I think half the village had been looking for an excuse to get rid of me for years. Sometimes it felt like Roman was the only one there who’d tolerate me, and even then...”

“You want him to stay, don’t you?” Patton said.

“He’s my brother,” Remus said simply, looking out at the waves. “Before I was exiled, I never even spent a day without him. He was always a bit of a stick in the mud about rules, but we were thick as thieves, did everything together. Even when we grew up, we still hung out all the time; we even shared a room. The night I left, I thought about waking him, asking him to come with me. But I couldn’t do that to him. He loved the village. So did I, but he was always so happy there. I don’t know if I didn’t want to make him choose, or if it was because I knew I wouldn’t be able to stand it when he chose the village over me. I wouldn’t have blamed him, but it would’ve hurt.”

“You don’t know he would’ve chosen them over you,” Patton said. “He cares about you a lot.”

“You didn’t even know I existed before you met me, did you?” Remus asked. It wasn’t really a question – he’d seen Patton’s puzzled expression when Roman had introduced his long-lost brother.

“Ro doesn’t like to talk about things that are upsetting him,” Patton said. “And I think he really misses you.”

Remus turned to face Patton properly, and looking into his earnest brown eyes, he could see that Patton honestly believed he was telling the truth.

“Sure, whatever,” Remus said, and he turned to walk below deck.

-----

Remus wasn’t the biggest fan of being woken up in the middle of the night – as, he imagined, most people weren’t. But as the captain of a pirate ship who had enough trouble getting to sleep anyway, it was especially important for him to get a bit of shut-eye and be well rested for his duties in the morning.

So, when he was awoken before the crack of dawn by a frantic rapping on his door, he wasn’t too pleased.

“What d'ya want?” he grumbled from under his blankets.

The door opened just a crack, and Remus' expression softened when he saw Elliot's face peek through. They were one of the younger members of the crew, and Remus had always had a soft spot for the kid. It was hard to be alone at such a young age, so he tried to make sure the crew were as much of a surrogate family to Elliot as they could be.

“Janus needs you,” Elliot said, which immediately dragged Remus into the waking world. “On deck. He said as soon as possible.”

Remus swung his legs out of bed, glad he hadn’t bothered to change out of his day clothes. “I’m on my way.”

-----

The deck was far more crowded than it usually was at night. There would usually be a couple of people patrolling, but it seemed like half the crew was out there, all crowded around some kind of dark blob. When Remus got closer, he realised the blob was actually a cloaked figure crouched on the floor.

“What’s going on?” Remus asked Janus, who was stood in front of the crowd, looking down at the figure.

“A stowaway,” Janus said. “I found him in the hold.”

“I’m not here to hurt any of you,” the stowaway said. His voice was shaky, matching the slight tremble of his limbs that he was clearly trying to hide. Remus couldn’t tell if it was from fear or from the cold night air. “I just needed to get off that island.”

Remus took a step closer to the stowaway, and got a good look at his face. He was pale and gaunt, with shaggy black hair framing his thin face. The stowaway growled defensively, a glint of a fang showing.

At that, Remus held up his hands. “Why?” he asked, though he could take a pretty good guess.

“There were, um...” the stowaway – vampire? – cleared his throat, obviously stalling to think of something to say. “There were people there who want to hurt me,” he eventually said. “I got away from them on the Broken Isle, but they would’ve found me if I stayed there. I took the first way out I could find.”

“These people...” Remus said. “They were vampire hunters?”

The stowaway winced, quickly schooling his face into some semblance of a neutral expression, but that was all the information Remus needed.

“Aw, kiddo!” Patton cooed. “You should’ve just told us you needed somewhere to stay!”

“I’m over four-hundred years old,” the vampire grumbled.

Janus was tapping his chin in thought. “My question is, how did he even get on the ship? We live here, a vampire shouldn’t be able to enter without our permission.”

“Ah, that might've been me,” Patton said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “He offered to help me carry some crates so I invited him aboard. I thought he ran off, though.”

“No harm done,” Janus said with a small shrug. That was very un-Janus-like of him, but Remus knew his first mate always had a weakness for men with pretty smiles. “Now, we just have to figure out what to do with him.”

“Aren’t you going to let him stay?” Patton asked.

Remus saw the moment Janus gritted his teeth and dragged his gaze away from Patton’s wide, pleading eyes. Oh, he was down so bad.

“I don’t have a problem with it!” Remus chimed in. “The more the merrier!”

This only seemed to make Janus’ conflicted expression twist even further.

But it was Roman who spoke up next. “But- but he’s a vampire!” He protested, eyeing the crouched man warily. “He growled at you.”

Remus levelled his brother with a look. “I told you, bro. You won’t get far judging people on first impressions.”

Janus was still staring intently at the vampire, his gaze calculating. From under the shadow of his hood, it looked like the vampire was glaring back.

“Fine,” Janus said. “He can stay for now, but we’re dropping him at the next port.”

“I wouldn’t want to stay any longer anyway,” the vampire snapped. He stood to his full height – which, admittedly, wasn’t very tall. With slumped shoulders, and baggy clothes dangling off skinny limbs, he looked more exhausted than threatening. “Now, can I go inside before the sun comes up?”

“Can we at least get your name?” Remus asked.

The vampire stalked past him, cloak swishing in ocean breeze. Remus thought he was going to ignore him, but the vampire stopped just before he got to the staircase. “The name’s Virgil.”

[hanako-san]

as I promised - This is a post that is against the daikon witch and I am not going to hold back in any way. These are thoughts about the bonus manga, I decided to expand on it a bit - her pathetic and amorous side is not the only side in which I hate her.

-

The bonus story from volume 21 is pathetic on the daikon side. She has a boyfriend, but she still can't say 'no' to guys in her type. She's letting the asshole take advantage of her and she doesn't see anything wrong with it and it would still be happening if Hanako hadn't reacted. Fuji would advantage of her all the time.

The narrative that AR gives here is also unfair 'bad guy takes advantage of naive daikon'.

And honestly? He's an asshole, she's no better. She is worse than him.

I don't care about her 'she is weak for the boys in her type', I don't give a damn about her! At this point she has a boyfriend and she still does it in front of him, without any objection.

Daikon is really disgusting. I really despise her.

She really acts like a b***h and is brazen enough to do it in front of him. She confessed her 'love' to him and then had a soft spot for Teru and the others again.

and more-

I hate that teru also contributed to her harm because he wanted Akane and Kou to betray her behind her back, instead of feeling anger, disappointment, resentment, bitterness, anger with this fact, she absolutely doesn't feel any anger, regret, etc. and she is absolutely okay with that. Just like with Fuji Kun in the bonus story, she still allows herself to be used knowingly, knowing that he is doing it and has no problem with it at all, just like in chapter 2, knowing that he is using her hoping to benefit from it,now she is consciously taking advantage of his appearance and it is absolutely fine, not counting on anything anymore. She have what she wanted for a long time, a boyfriend. She doesn't change. She is the same as in chapter 1 and 2, being in chapter 112 in volume 21. She can get angry at Hanako for a trivial thing and hit him, get angry at him and say some harsh words to him, but not with other guys to whom she literally has a weakness for their appearance. I don't find it cute and or makes me feel sorry for her. This makes me hate her the most out of all the characters.

How can he compete with them? She is in a relationship NOW. She should only keep her eyes on her own boyfriend while the others walk away.

But don't 'confess your love to him twice and behave as usual, showing him that he is not the only one and that he has something to be afraid of'

But this nasty… witch sees nothing wrong with it! She does it in front of him. She 'never did anything wrong, right' Hanako will take the blame and apologize, but she doesn't mean to admit anything really. She doesn't have to change and start respecting him either, it just shows total lack of respect for him.

She always had no respect for him, now she showed it more clearly. At this point, Amane is being humiliated by the daikon. This isn't 'fun' for me at all.

I don't care that she's a teen, I don't care about her age. This is chapter 112, not the initial chapters, and I am not going to tolerate it because of her personality and age. It doesn't change anything. In my eyes, daikon is trash, a shitty character. I gave her enough time and passes, but that's it! I'm not going to tolerate this garbage any longer.

Her external appearance, i.e. her so-called 'cuteness', does not affect me. daikon is garbage and this ship is terrible. Amane is treated really badly, not only is he treated unfairly, but there is also no respect for him as a person and as a her boyfriend.

She said something else.

She thought she had changed at the beginning, but this 'change' was in her imaginary head. She has really serious delusions and the temporal changes she went through are as worthless to me as they are to her person.

Nothing has changed about her since the Misaki arc. NOTHING. I realize the manga is still coming out, but so what? I've given her enough time and patience to change, but I'm not going to wait any longer.

Her so-called 'love' is a lie. Her so-called 'change' is a lie.

yashiro nene is a piece of trash. AR often covers her up and makes her feel sorry for her - it's always the guy who has to play the bad role when the daikon does something or behaves inappropriately.

I don't care anymore that ARs don't show her past for some reason, her whole personality is love, she's boring, she has nothing to offer after chapters 112, pale and boring. Annoying and always whining.

She doesn't respect Amane and what she got, so there will be no more understanding from me and no respect for her. This witch doesn't deserve what she has because she can't appreciate it.

AR has made me despise and hate her and this ship to the core. And I don't know what needs to happen for my icy heart to melt.

[takadasaiko]

7, 9, 10 and 14 for the ao3 wrapped asks!

7. Share a line/paragraph/snippet that you were especially proud of from a work this year!

I've really enjoyed finally being able to put Luke and Leia in scenes together in A Flicker of Light this year, especially after Luke discovers who she really is. Here's a snippet from Chapter Sixteen:

She shot him a withering look. “I can’t help but think you want me to ask you about your ship with as many times as you’ve mentioned it.” Was he blushing? She thought she saw a tinge of red on his cheeks as he ducked his chin to his chest. “Sorry. It’s just… I've always loved flying, and now I get to command my own Star Destroyer.” “Do you get to fly it?” “One man can’t fly a Star Destroyer.” “Not even a Sith?” “I’m not —“ He stopped and stared at her. “You’re teasing me.” Leia flashed him a bright smile. “Just a little. And a Jedi could.”  He quirked an eyebrow. “You’ve clearly never been on the bridge of one. There are dozens of people that—“ “My father told me the story of a Jedi named Anakin Skywalker once. He was trying to break a blockade and save an entire planet of people. It was hopeless, but he didn’t give up. Instead he kicked everyone off the damaged ship and rammed into the blockade. He flew it all by himself, so it is possible.” Her smile faltered when she found him staring at her. After a long moment he seemed to gather himself. “It sounds like your father is a really good man.” “Oh, that wasn’t him. I mean, yes he is, without a doubt, but it was a Jedi in the story.” “Yeah,” he breathed. When he met her gaze again, she felt her own breath catch at the intensity. “Something real, Princess. Something meaningful. Not trade routes or something any low-level bureaucrat could put together for you if you’re willing to give him what he wants. If you could have anything for Alderaan, what would it be?” “Freedom.” The word escaped Leia before she dared give herself permission.  “You have your own electorate, your own rulers. Isn’t Alderaan free?” Natus asked quietly, his expression genuinely confused.  Leia thought on it a long moment, her better sense giving way to her intuition. “Are you free when those you elect are forced to give up their choice to a single man?” To his credit, he considered her words for a moment. “Do you think the illusion of freedom is better than no freedom at all?” “No,” Leia answered automatically. She couldn’t help herself. His expression was so open and raw. Searching. She couldn’t imagine how it could be put on. “It only lures you deeper into slavery than you might have been able to tolerate otherwise.” “I’m not a slave.”  The statement was so abrupt, so forceful, that Leia sat back a little in her seat. She contemplated it a moment before answering. “Can you walk away?” “What do you mean?” “Can you leave? Would he let you, if that were your choice?” A moment ticked by. Then another. Leia didn’t flinch and Natus stared deeply into his mostly empty cup of caf. She could almost feel the whirlwind in his mind, as if someone had broached the question of freedom for the first time. He looked torn. He looked terrified.

One of the major turning points for our Imperial-raised Luke in the story and it came from Leia. I really enjoyed this moment.

9. What are you most proud of accomplishing in your writing goals this past year?

The moments I actually wrote lol

10. What are your writing goals for the upcoming year?

I'd like to finish A Flicker of Light, starting turning The Phoenix Initiative into a collection of short stories (as opposed to the screenplay it is currently), and possibly even go back and finish Burn the Worlds. The last one hasn't been updated since 2015, so I have no idea how many people would actually like to read it. For what it's worth, I more/less figured out where the story would go.

14. Give us a sneak peek of one of your upcoming works!

If we're limiting it to fanfiction, I do have a OUAT idea battering around my head that would take place after my fic Courage of the Stars (which leaves the characters in a very different place than canon) in which a snow/ice witch of some form or fashion is threatening Snow and Regina's kingdom. The idea is still coming together, but I have this lovely mental image of Rumple trying to pull together all the threads of a vision and he ends up using the snow to visualize it. The whole scene looks really cool in my head.

Thank you for the ask!

ao3 writers wrapped ask game!

[bellewintersroe]

I finally found the right thing to click! Give me a gold star. Here's the info for a 'ship' with an Easy Company guy:

I'm 5'4", curly brown hair, green eyes, 36C. Sarcasm is my second language. I play the piano and sing. My background is in journalism. I can be hot headed. When I'm irate, I swear like a sailor.

Cooking is something I enjoy, especially Italian food. I'm a typical passionate Scorpio. My sense of humor ranges from goofy to acerbic. Family is very important to me. I'm an only child who wanted brothers and sisters.

I just ventured into writing fiction and largely based my OC on myself. A journalism prof said, "Write about what you know." I know myself, and my OC was created.

Kind of a lightweight with alcohol. Bailey's Irish Cream is my favorite alcoholic beverage. Unlike my OC, I'm extremely nearsighted and wear contact lenses. Everything is a blur without my lenses. I once thought I was attempting to pat my cat after I took my lenses out. When my hand touched the leather of my black purse that was on the floor, I realized my mistake.

I'm also feisty and sometimes stubborn.

ahhh sorry this took so long, this has been in my drafts forever !!

But thank you for your request (I also saw your other message about the platonic ship, dw I wouldnt ship you with you know who hehehe) and I was gonna ship you Joe Liebgott but I found somebody more fitting- feel free to request for a specific guy at any time though! <3

I ship you with… Bill Guarnere!

There’s so many similarities between the two of you that I couldn’t deny. First we can start with the fact you’re so feisty.

bill needs a hot headed girl, he finds your attitude so, so sexy, there’s a real sexual tension between the two of you from the minute you first meet. He likes the fact you swear so much- would probs encourage you to use it in the bedroom.

but no seriously, you two would hit it off straight away, Bill is confident and very self aware, he knows he gotta swipe you up before Liebgott or Tab - or any of those other rats in his mind interfere.

I think even if the two of you had been sleeping together a couple of times- he would still have the respect to just limit his loyalties to you and only you. Finds it silly when other girls try to hit on him- and this is when he starts to piece together his feelings.

kinda panics and won’t admit that he’s falling for you lmao; has some kind of weird raven Simone dream and freaks tf out.

unlike him, you do get drunk, he handles his drinks a little better so surprisingly can he the responsible one when you want to let loose.

somebody tries to mess with you whilst you’re blindly drunk, he doesn’t tolerate it, nooooo way.

he’s walking you home, tucking you into bed and I feel like you’re the one to admit your feelings first.

he has to go back to his own bed, questioning himself if it was real or not?! The next day he’d deffo come up to you and spill out all these feelings and oh my god you’re so shocked and happy- but also so hungover pls keep a bucket on hand.

You threw up cos you’re so hungover and Bill thinks it’s because of him????

the more the war goes on and the more serious it gets I feel like Bill would start to open up about his family, as do you. He really respects the fact you talk of your family so highly.

tells you not to worry about having no siblings as he’s got a whole bunch of them to share with you.

Accidentally admits things by slipping it into conversation, like ‘oh white is such your colour, ur gonna look so sexy in a wedding dress’. Or ‘don’t worry our kid ain’t never gonna be without siblings cos we’re at it that much’.

laughs around you, feels like he can be super genuine- sometimes if you’re busy working he can kinda follow you around like a lost puppy.

laughs at you for being so nearsighted. If you didn’t have your contact lenses he’d be on the floor laughing before he could help you with anything.

Directing jokes at each other but nothing too mean.

deffo more of a serious lover, especially in bed, so if you’re feeling goofy is balanced hun out perfectly. You can make him crack up so easily depending on what mood you’re in.

your love would be so intense, you’d laugh so much, but I feel like you’d definitely butt heads. The arguments could last quite a while and get heated, but he’d deffo get turned on by the fact you’re angry and then get annoyed at himself for getting distracted in an argument Lmao.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I ship you platonically with… Skip and Muck!

As soon as you said you wanted brothers and sisters growing up I immediately thought of how lovable these two would be as your best friends.

Your dynamic definitely would be close to siblings, especially cos you spend so much time around you.

they’d try to wind you up to make you swear just so they could laugh lmao immature.

but they’d truly be impressed with your sarcasm and sense of humour, they find you hilarious and you’d be like an iconic trio.

I don’t know when the friendship would become more of a gradual thing, it would develop throughout the war, maybe around D-day plus 7 when the war is becoming more frightening and the adrenaline from fighting and dropping into Europe fades.

the seriousness would sneak into the conversations, they’d ask you if you were ok, silently checking up on you by looking for where you were, and put you off going into dangerous situations.

Would try to ask you what Bill is like in bed and how big his pee pee is.

you don’t crack.

You all annoy bill, probably try to play pranks on him and you all think it’s the funniest thing in the world.

bill doesn’t agree.

Maybe you three would take things too far sometimes because you’re so good at having fun and distracting each other from the realities of war? In the end you’re all harmless and your friendship really is based around the most positive vibes.

[slutfor-fictionalmen]

Simply desirable

Sanji x chubby! Reader

A/n: i’m really sorry if this is bad this isn��t proof read and it’s been in my drafts for so long, thank for for the support beautifuls!! to clear this up, 

Also! this is a traveling crew! Not the straw hats we love, just a bunch of random jerks pretty much.

Smut(oral), fluff, angst, this was a request but I can’t find the actual ask, thank you for sending it in though!!

“Oh give it up, you’ve never been with a guy y/n! We can all tell by the way you describe it, probably one of those romantic fantasy books you picked up at our last dock to get off on!” The man breaks out in a hearty chuckle as you wipe off the putrid drink that splashes on you while he convulses with laughter.

“Right! And even if she is telling the truth it probably wasn’t for long!“

“I mean who would even want her! She’s not attractive!”

You stare with resentment as they laugh, sitting wordlessly in this situation you did nothing to bring upon yourself.

“I know I wouldn’t, I personally never understood guys who like things like that! She’s not appealing to me!”

You sit with a pained smile while your “friends” bash the sex life that they asked you about. You have the body of a woman, something that men constantly prove they don’t like as they go for women with impossible anatomy and breakable figures. But that doesn’t mean that you’re not ever seen sexually, they just refuse to see that.

You’d hoped that sanji was different though, he was the only man you could tolerate, seeing as most of them were insufferable, it didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes too.

‘She's not appealing to me!’ it kept on replaying in your head, as if your brain refused to register that Sanji was a sailor, a scumbag like the others. You didn’t hear any of the others as your head spinned with something that felt like betrayal.

With a half assed reason you excuse yourself and take your drink as you stank on the deck of the ship. You forget why you joined this crew till you see the ocean, the moon looking at it’s reflection as if it knows just how mesmerizing it is on the surface of the water.

Suddenly the backhanded words and shit you get for being a female pirate slip away as you simply admire the view. You look down and see your captain, you’ve always felt bad for him, he practically lives on the ocean but luffy never touches it. You always chalked it up to actions having consequences and this just happened to be his for getting these extraordinary powers.

Your mind went blank as you basked in the breeze before you heard a loud group of men exiting the cabin. Your mouth tasted bitter while you brushed past the taunting group of men.

Sanji watched you walk away with an ache in his gut, a feeling like he drank too much on an empty stomach but he didn’t have to throw up, so he ignored it. After a while he separated from the group and headed down to his quarters.

You being one of the only girls, have your own room demanding it after nami claimed your stuff took up more room than hers.

Sanji happened to be one of the only other people who kept in mind where your room was, everyone else simply didn’t care, and besides, his logic was if he remembers where your room is, his’ll be right across.

You dreaded that fact tonight as tears welled up in your eyes, you shouldn’t be crying, he might see or hear, what if he makes fun of you more? Or tells the rest of the crew? Your mind rushed as anxiety floods all your senses, pulling you into a trance, everything feeling hot and numb at the same time.

You fail to hear footsteps as you try to coerce yourself out of your vulnerable state, the ache in your body causing your hearing and sight to go into an outage.

“Are you crying…?” Your head snapped up, you stare for a while before your sight focuses and your brain processes who’s talking to you. A blond. A blond was in your doorway.

Sanji was there.

“Are you ok? What happened-“ he proceeds to walk into your room with concern, stopping as you shift away from him, refusing to make eye contact with the oblivious man. He sits at the edge of your bed. Unsure of what to say or do.

You always intimidated him, your abilities, the way you light up rooms, how you always put zoro in his place, how quickly you’re able to catch on to learning new things, You simply were an overwhelming presence that he doesn’t know how to handle…. Least that’s what he wants to believe.

“You know, you can lay your head on my shoulder if you want.” You look over at the man, refusing to acknowledge his offer, how doesn’t he care. It was so painfully obvious how fond you were of him, your neighbor used to say ‘drunk words are sober thoughts’ granted at 8 that made no sense, but it always stuck with you. He meant it, he may not have vocalized it before but he meant it.

“You amaze me, you’ve always have, you’re so talented and smart. Y/n I admire you, you may not see it but i do, i always have, ever since i saw you argue with Zoro about a better fighting technique i-“

“Sanji you can stop, I heard enough at the table, you can leave.”

He froze with one thought on his mind, ‘fuck’. He didn’t know what to say, every word caught in his throat as he grasped for the right words. What he said wasn’t right, he knew it and it weighed on his mind for the rest of the night. Your face in the corner of his eye was enough to make him stop drinking for the night, almost completely sober as he approached his room, stopping as he heard sobs and gasps. He hated it, he was horrified as he saw you so…. Broken. Never once did he consider that the strong beautiful woman he saw every day could look so lost.

He did it, he broke you, and he hated himself for it.

You saw him stand up from the corner of your eye, assuming his movements were him proceeding to the door until you see him trying to look you in the eye.

“I’m sorry,” he kneels in front of you, desperately trying to attempt to make eye contact with you. He sets his hands on each of your thighs, trying to pull your attention to him.

“Look at me y/n please..” his voice sounding bare, making every attempt with his vulnerability while also trying not to cross any lines. He liked you so much, he let his time with his friends influence his drunken mind, ignoring the pollution they were bringing into his thoughts. “Please…”

You lift your head, meeting his eyes with hesitation. “It doesn’t mean much, but I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” Sanji unintentionally starts rubbing your things, trying to bring you comfort with his words.

Your mind starts to focus on his touch, the way he unconsciously rubs circles into your thighs, massaging the skin you allowed him to touch, as much as the situation frustrated you, you can’t help but bask in the affection he’s showing you, how intimate this would’ve been under any other circumstances.

Every fiber of your being is screaming at you to not let it go, to be skeptical at how uncharacteristically sweet and patient he’s being. But you know him, how he made a mess of the kitchen in anger while attempting to create a dish you requested the crew try. You had feelings for him, you couldn’t deny it but you knew your worth enough to not put your heart fully in pursuit of something that seemed so… hopeless.

“I like you, a lot. And I’m not going to pretend that what you said wasn’t fucked up, you publicly shat on our friendship and it was so wrong. I have standards, I know my worth and what you did was unacceptable.” He stopped his movements taking in your words before he moved to sit up on his knees, closer between your soft thighs.

“Then let me.”

“…What?”

“Let me meet your standards, let me be the person you like, let me make it up to you Y/N.”

“Sanji that’s not necessary, you can just keep it in mind and move forw-“ “Let. Me”

He gently pushed you back, looming over your plush form, “May I?” He gestured to your pants tugging at the waistband of them. You nod and ogle as he continues to hover with his hand just above your waistline. You grab his hand and place it on your stomach allowing it to splay out on the soft flesh. He pulls away before using that same hand to move your head, allowing your eyes to meet his.

“I need your words beautiful, I can't move forward without you being perfectly comfortable.” He smiles as he sees the frustration in your eyes, not moving until he gets your full verbal ok. “So?”

“Yes, we can go forward, you can touch me, I want this, I want you.” His eyes darken as he hears your words, putting his hands to work as he refuses to look away from your increasingly flustered state, Relishing in the way you look away as he strips the pants off your lower body.

He stares for a moment resting his head on your inner thigh before he moves to kiss the same spot his head was previously on. His hand traces patterns onto your hip as he leaves marks on your thighs, ignoring your increasingly needy core.

Your impatience grew as he started to hum while kissing your thigh, knowing he was teasing you. You grind your hips up as an attempt for any friction you may happen to receive. He finally stops, moving your underwear to the side as he slides his index finger along your folds. You whimper at the contact, not expecting his rough hands to be so delicate.

He smiles whispering something about how beautiful you are under his breath, his words fall upon deaf ears as he presses onto your clit, stimulating your swollen bud. He presses a kiss onto your pussy, the tent in his pants growing as he tastes you for the first time.

His mind fills with bliss as he continues to lap up your juices, moving your thighs over his shoulders and pressing down on your hips.

“All this for me? This pretty pussy is mine, you’re mine.”

He can die a happy man knowing that he finally got to taste you, that he was the one making you squirm as he built a pattern thrusting his tongue into your hole. He continues his pace as he feels you tug on his hair, your fingers that once fondled his blond locs now gently tug at his hair while he edges you closer to your orgasm.

“Please, I’m so close…” he almost freezes as your words, your voice broken as you plead for him. He moves his hand onto your lower stomach, pressing down gently, testing out something he read in one of the books you bought while on shore. You see stars as he continues his relentless pace, the heat of the room now suffocating as you gasp for air, legs shaking and twitching as he continues.

You have to pry his face from your twitching body before he stands up and reaches for his pants, kissing you and pulling away grinning.

“I wanna hear more of those pretty moans of yours.”

He made sure that you knew how beautiful you are, after all how could a man spend so much time doing something if he didn’t love it?

[lokiandbuckysdoll]

Jotunn or Not

Paring: Jotunn!/ frost giant! Loki X Reader

Summary: Again a beautiful request by @areynobodytoo 

“Loki sacred the reader the will not like his Frost giant jotun form and become  scared of him and break up with him”   

Word count: 1.20K

Dividers: @whimsicalrogers

A/N: LOVE THIS! also  this is my first time writing Jotun/Frost giant Loki! I hope i didn’t butcher him lmao, but I hope you like the outcome! 

Yours and Loki’s relationship was fairly new however if felt like the two of you had been dating for a lifetime.With your new realtion ship  Loki has changed for the better, but he also became more circumspect. That was something he never intended on ever doing until he met you.  

You see Loki loved you with his entire being, you were the only thing that mattered to him. However he kept a secret from you that ate at him in the cold depths of the night when you slept peacefully in the comfort of his arms; his Jotunn form. With the sudden heat wave that had abruptly decided  to hit New York, his tolerance to hide his form was wearing very thin. 

You honestly didn't intend to walk in unannounced,  you were so caught up in your thoughts that you forgot to knock and just walked into his room. 

“ Lo-”

You paused, astonished at the site that's in front of you to witness. 

Loki is laying on his bed reading a book as usually but his skin appears to be  blue, this causes you to  let out a small but audible “Oh” 

   Your eyes glaze over his body for a quick second before he uses his magic to appear in his “Normal” form.  

This brings a frown to appear on your face, as your eyes move to meet his own. They are filled with devastation and sadness. He inhaled a deep breath before he blew out slowly.  

“ Please don't be disgusted, I can explain!” his tone was a sad one laced with terror.  He moved to sit up against the headboard of the bed and patted the spot next to him for you to sit. 

You didn't hesitate to make your way to the bed, as you sat with him you could tell by his body language he felt horrified as he kept shifting in his spot. 

You gently placed your hand on his knee as this would normally calm him down but he flinched at the sudden contact. You quickly pulled your hand away and apologized.   

  “I’m sorry” You gave him an apologetic smile. 

You both sat in silence as the minute passed, you gave him his time and when he was ready he finally spoke. 

“ Umm there is no easy way for me to say this” he paused letting out another deep breath.  

 “ What you saw moments ago was my true Heritage, my true form, my Jotunn form and I understand if you don’t want to ruther contuine our realtionship because of it”  he looked down not wanting to see the disgust and disappointment on your face.  

Instead he was met by the soft touch of your hand,  tilting his chin to make him  look at you. In that moment he saw none of that, what he saw instead  was your smile, the one that he loves so much  and your doe eye expression. 

“ I know love, I know of your  Jotunn heritage, I would never break up with you because of who you are loki ” You softly rubbed your thumb over his cheek. 

You wanted to laugh at his deadpan expression as the questions flowed through his mind. 

 “ How do you know?  I never mention anything about it and I always hid it the best that I could”  he waits for your response but you simply giggle which causes him to be even more confused. 

“The first time I saw you, I knew you weren't Asgardian. You were far greater than that. So i did some digging and maybe annoyed Thor to tell me ”  you yet again want to laugh at his expression, Loki could be so dense at times with you when he's so vulnerable with you.  

“ I honestly don't know what to say, You still want to be with me? You're not scared of the monster than i am? I just don’t want you to think any less of me” he looks you deep in the eyes and it makes you want to kiss  him all over his face.  

“ Loki, my love, My savior and my sweet king” you smile “ I don’t care if you are Jotunn or Asgardian or however you choose to identify.  I still love you, and I will continue to love you! You've shown me what it's like to find true love in this universe, What it feels like to be loved and to give love. I Never want you to be scared or frightened to be yourself around me” you wipe the small tears falling from his eyes. 

“Y-you mean it? If I show you my Jotunn form, will you still love me?” his Face went pale as he was afraid of your answer. 

“ Loki, Jotunn or not I will always love you” That was all the confirmation he needed before he used his magic to show his natural form. 

His skin turned into the most angelic blue you have ever seen. It glistened with the slight sunlight peeking through the curtains. You move to look into his eyes, the most beautiful crimson color of red filled them.  Your eyes roam to see his natural ridges. 

“ Can I touch Them?” you question being cautious not to upset him. He simply nodded. 

You take in the elegants of his features. The way the ridges are placed on his forehead and cascaded down his ravishing face and body. You gently lift your fingers and trace the lines. They're smooth yet rough in the best ways possible. You trace the line from his forehead down to where it ends at the top of his lip.  

Without question you lean in and place a sweet yet soft peck to his lips before you attack his face with kisses. This causes him to let out the most satisfying sound to your ears, his laugh. He has to pry you off of him just so he can gain his breath. 

 He smiled down at you as he was about to snap his fingers to turn back to his “normal” form. You quickly grabbed his hand to stop him.    

“Please don’t hide for me my love, Your beautiful like this just let me enjoy for a little while longer” he pulls you lay in his lap. 

He leans down and places a kiss to your forehead, nose and then your lips. 

“ Thank you for giving  me something i only thought my mother Frigga would give” his eyes gloss with nothing but admiration for you. 

“ What would that be my love” you hold his hand in yours. 

“ You’re love and  acceptance” 

 Taglist: @areynobodytoo 

@justasecretwriter 

@peachyymallows​ 

@lokislittleprincess​

[storytelling-timelord]

Runaway

Request by @justheretoscrollpast​: Hey can I ask for a tenth doctor request but with the reader as his half human half gallifreyan daughter? I was hoping you might do another one about insecurities, but have it be more focused on feeling like the reader's presence matters, like as if the reader feels like they aren't wanted or valued as a human or timelord around others. I'm feeling like everyone just tolerates me, doesn't actually want to be around me, and that I'm a burden/clingy rn :')

WC: 2.5K

A/N: I’m so sorry it’s taking me a million years to write and post requests but here you go :) I didn’t know what to title this lol and I hate the title so if it changes at any point to something better, just pretend it was always called that lol

---

Donna’s eyes were clasped shut as she grabbed onto the Tardis poles for her life. The floors beneath her rock like a ship on the sea as she fights the heavy force of gravity across her body. She opens her eyes for a minor second but the only thing she can see is your body practically falling across the console as you steer the Tardis alongside the Doctor, whose converses are slipping out right beneath him as you tug him up, maintaining a hold on the controls as you help him.

“Make sure to grab the-” His eyes were wide as he points to the lever on your left, sticking up despite your attempts at keeping it down.

“I know!” you yell at him and leave him to stand on his own feet.

“Doctor!” Donna yells as the lever jerks the ship, almost pulling her hold off the pole.

“Don’t forget to press the-” The Doctor points to a button near you that looked exactly like the one he was slamming his hand upon.

“I’ve got it!” you were growing annoyed and that, paired with the situation of the Tardis flying freely over a planet you’ve never been to before, could only lead to bad things.

“What about the-”

“Dad!” You yell and look him in the eyes. His mouth is hung up mid-sentence, his limps stretched in every which way as you turn the wheel that he was about to remind you of. “Every time we do this and every time, I have to remind you that I know what I am doing. I’m a Time Lord!”

“Half-Time Lord!” The Doctor reminds you and you roll your eyes before you press the final few buttons, sending the Tardis to the Planets floor.

“Look at that, perfect landing.” You smirk at your father before leaning on the console. Your hand bumps a lever, sending steam hissing right next to Donna as she screams, and you scramble to shut it off. “I meant to do that.” You lie to them, plastering a fake smile across your face as your father raises a brow at you before turning to the screens in front of him.

You frown and take a deep breath before bringing your smile right back. Donna finally releases her hold on her bar and joins the Doctor as you also join his side. “So where are we?” Donna asks, fixing her hair.

“Hitterrian.” The Doctor tells her and pushes the monitor away from the two of you. “Locals call it Flyers Fall.”

“Why?” you ask, heading over to get your coat.

“Because spaceships usually can’t land here, they crash. Fall right out of the sky.”

You smirk to yourself. “And I landed.” You whisper, allowing a sense of pride to fill you. You turn around, tossing your jacket over your shoulders to see your dad doing the same.

“Right!” He shouts when his trench coat is on. He points to you as the three of you walk to the front door. “Y/N, stay in the Tardis.”

“Righ-” You almost agree before stopping in your tracks, finally hearing what was asked of you. “What?”

“Stay in the-”

“No, no, I heard you,” you cut him off, shaking your head.  “But I want to go with you.”

“Absolutely not, it’s better for you if you stay in the Tardis.” He shakes his head.

“But dad-”

“No buts.” He stays and continues to leave. “Donna, let’s go!”

He doesn’t look back until Donna groans. “Oh, come on you old man! Let the girl come!”

“What?” He stops with a foot out the door. “Donna!”

“I’m just saying Doctor-” Donna tries to reason with your father

“And I’m her father and I’m saying no!” It isn’t always that you see your father crane his neck to assert his dominance, but he stands straighter, frowning as he looks at you and Donna and you already know there’s no changing his mind. “She stays here in the Tardis and out of the way. Now let’s go.”

He’s out the door before you can even say goodbye. Donna throws you a small sorry smile as she walks to the door herself. “Sorry kiddo. Doctors’ orders.” She tells you, snagging her jacket along the way to the door. The sound of the door closing and latching echoes in your ears as you stand there, mulling over the words your dad and Donna left you with.

Traveling with your dad was everything you could’ve dreamed for but lately, it just seemed like you were just there. Just like your dad said, you were in the way. You suppose you weren’t really needed aboard the Tardis, anything you need a human for and he’s got Donna or another person he’ll offer the universe too before you and anything Time Lord, he’s got himself. Besides, you were only half-Time Lord, as he liked to remind you so very much. Maybe it would be better if you just… left. Ran away, off to see the universe by yourself, not in your father’s way or Donna’s way or anyone’s really.

Maybe if you ran long enough, it would be like Y/N never existed. It would be better like that, wouldn’t it?

“I’m not a kid. I can be useful. I can…” You sigh to yourself before heading to your room.

After what seemed like a day, Donna and The Doctor return and you only know because you can feel the Tardis leave from its spot. You have no idea how the trip to Hitterrian went but as you go out to the console room to ask, you start to regret it.

Your father and Donna were practically jumping around in joy, they were all smiles and laughs and as you listen to how easy helping the residents of this planet was, you realize one very important thing.

They really didn’t need you.

You stay in the hallway as your father lands the Tardis somewhere, but you have no clue where just yet. It’s not until Donna mentions coffee that you realize you were on Earth. You were on Earth and instead of your dad heading back to your room to tell you or even to check if you actually there, he walks right out the front door with Donna on his arm.

“They left me.” You whisper to yourself as the door closes behind them. “They left. Of course, they left.” You turn back to your room, grabbing as many of your things as you could stuff in a little backpack, trying your best to be speedy about it. You wanted to leave before they get back, but as you open the doors to the Tardis, your breath stills in your throat as you see The Doctor standing in front of you, sipping on the to-go cup in his hand. “Dad!” you gasp, not expecting him to be back so soon. You glance behind him, not seeing your red-haired friend. “Um, where’s Donna?”

The Doctor furrows his brows and you hope he hasn’t spotted your bag strung on your back. “Went to visit her family.” He tells you and you nod, avoiding his eye contact. “Where are you going?”

You don’t answer him, instead you nod to the steaming cup in his hand. “You got coffee.”

He nods, shrugging a little but his brows were still drawn together. “Donna wanted it.”

“And you didn’t think to ask if I wanted some?” You didn’t mean to snap at him, in fact, you wanted this conversation to be over with quickly just so you could finally leave, but you couldn’t help yourself. You weren’t just mad that he got coffee without you, you were embarrassed that it took you so long to finally figure out that you weren’t wanted.

The Doctor pauses for a moment, his face softening when he realizes you were right. “Well, I mean…” He trails off and it’s his turn to avoid eye contact.

“It’s fine dad.” You mumble and start to push past him. “I’ll just…” You shake your head, trying to find your words. “I’m going for walk.”

“Hold it.” He tells you, snagging the top of your bag to keep you from moving. “You’ve got a bag. Why do you have a bag for a walk?”

“I just do.” You shake loose from his grip.

“Where are you going?” He asks you again, this time almost actually seeming concerned that you’d go somewhere.

“Why do you care?” you mumble, letting your eyes settle on the ground at your feet.

Your father’s back to furrowing his brows, not quite hearing what you said. “What?”

“Just forget it.” You tell him and start to walk off again, but the Doctor won’t let you leave as he gently grabs your wrist.

“Y/N-“

“I said forget it!” You snap and tear yourself from his hold.

“Where are you going?” He raises his voice and you do the same.

“I don’t know! I don’t know but I can’t stay here.”

“What? Why?” It wasn’t an answer, but he was getting worried with your vague and alarming responses. You don’t say anything, staring straight ahead and away from where the Doctor was standing, but out of the corner of your eye, you can see him shake his head. “Y/N-”

“I’ll stay with Martha,” You blurt out, thinking of the first place you could possibly stay. Your father’s posture straightens at the name of both of your old companion. “She offered me a job with UNIT before, I’m sure if I ask…” You trail off for one very sad thought coursing through your head. What if Martha doesn’t want you around either? What if she was just offering you a job because she felt like she had to, because she knew your father didn’t want you around, because she knew the only way that you’d useful to someone- anyone- was at a desk job for UNIT? 

Forget UNIT, you couldn’t go there, but still, you couldn’t stay. So, with a final shake of your head, you ignore the calls and pleas of your father as you walk away from him, from the Tardis, from everything you’ve ever known.

---

There was a bench, sat next to a pond near the middle of town, The Doctor didn’t even need to call Martha first before knowing you hadn’t gone to her. He knew you’d be right there.

He was right.

The fresh air bounces off the pond as you take a deep breath, enjoying the quiet, enjoying the peace. Your eyes never leave the small ducks playing in the water, not even when a trench coat wearing man slides into the spot next to you.

You stay quiet for a moment before sighing. “How did you find me?”

His head turns quickly at your soft voice. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“I didn’t think you’d try.” You admit with a dry laugh.

“Why wouldn’t I?” His voice was just as soft as yours. You don’t say anything, feeling his gaze on the side of your face and you have to turn your head as you sniffle, hoping your father doesn’t realize you’ve been crying, but he does and when you turn your head back to face front, he finally sees the dried tear streaks running down your cheeks. “Oh, my brilliant, brilliant girl.”

“Stop that.” You snap at him, finally meeting his eyes. Your eyes and nose burned as you tried to keep from crying again.

“What?”

“That.” You throw a hand in the air, officially giving up. “Complimenting me, making me feel like you actually-” The words paused. Giving up and finally admitting the truth truly hurt.

“Like I actually what?”

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. “Like you actually want me there.” You look away from him again, letting a tear fall off your cheek and you’re quick to wipe it away. “I’m not stupid.” You say quietly. “I’m not Time Lord enough, I’m not Human enough, I’m always just in the way. God, I try so hard to be wanted and you guys just have to put up with me.”

“Stop.” The Doctor says, grabbing your hand and you don’t have it in you to pull out of his grip.

“Why?” You frown. “It’s the truth, isn’t it? You bring me along because you have to, because you’re my dad but if mum were still alive, then you leave me with her, wouldn’t you?”

He answers without a second to think. “Yes, I would!”

It was an answer you’ve expected, but you weren’t prepared for your father to have actually said it. “What?” you whisper. He really didn’t want you around.

The Doctor squeezes your hand, scooting closer to you. “You’re my daughter, Y/N. I love you more than anyone and if I had the option to leave you here on Earth with your mother and for you to safe, then I would. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be safe.” Any words you could have mustered disappears as you listen to your father, letting him talk down your insecurities. “I’m sorry I made you feel like you were unwanted, I never meant-” He pauses, his eyes scanning your face as he truly begins to understand. “You’re smart, brilliant, clever- almost as clever as me” He makes you laugh, just a little and the little victory the Doctor feels allows him to pull you closer, tucking you under his arm as he throws it around your shoulder. You melt into his side. “You’re my daughter and I never wanted you to feel like you were just being tolerated because you’re here. I want you here. I want to show you the universe. I want to show you everything you’ve dreamed of, and I shouldn’t have made you see it through the Tardis’ scanners.” You turn your head up and look at him, seeing tears fall from his own eyes, just like yours. “I’m sorry.”

You don’t waste a moment to wrap your arms around his torso and pull him for a hug which he more than eagerly returns, holding you as tight as he possibly can. His hand falls on the back of your head as he presses a gentle kiss to your temple. “I love you.” He whispers into your ear.

“I love you too, Dad.” You say, the words muffle against his coat, but the Doctor can hear how much you mean it.

You stay holding each other for a few moments longer before you pull away and smile at him. “So, my little Time Lord,” he calls you and you both chuckle, wiping your tears on your respective sleeves. “What do you want to see next?”

You sit there, trying to come up with the perfect place, the perfect answer, but there was so much to see that you hadn’t yet. “The universe.” You decide.

The Doctor’s mouth falls opens as he clicks his tongue and tilts his head. “Well, that’s a pretty big request,” He admits before he smiles at you, “but I’m sure we’ll find something.” He reaches out his hand and you look between it and his face. “Together?” For what seems like the first time, in all your years travelling with your dad, as you take his hand in yours and allow him to lead you back to the Tardis, you finally feel like you’re wanted.

.

.

.

.

[vii-is-free]

The Path to Freedom, a HOTD Fanfic

Summary: Ser Crispin and Rhaenyra run off together in Episode 5

Read/Review on AO3

Prologue

Chapter 5

“Why the other steps?!”

———————

Christon and Rhaenyra bid a fond farewell to his family, his mother handling a basket of food and blankets, to make the trip will be more tolerable. As they left the castle gates, Criston stood amazed that Syrax was waiting for them.

“It’s like she knows,” Criston mused aloud.

“She does,” said Rhaenyra, “Dragons and their riders share a special bond.”

“Will Dragons,” asked Criston, “Only accept Targaryens as dragon riders?”

“We haven’t tried anyone else, honestly. The consequences are too...”

Criston paled, as he could only imagine what would happen should one mount a dragon who didn’t like them.

Rhaenyra stopped, grinning at Criston. “Do you want a dragon, Criston?”

“Oh no,” Criston laughed, “I’m quite content riding back seat.”

On dragonback, the pair retraced their previous steps, camping in the Rainwood at night, leaving on sunrise to make it to Driftmark in nearly two days time. The sun sat in mid-evening when the island appeared beneath them.

As Syrax lowered below the clouds, Criston’s gut sank. An entire fleet of ships encompassed the port. All with Targaryen flags.

The kings sigil.

Syrax was small enough to land on the narrow path to the castle, much like the path to Dragonstone. Rhaeneya dismounted first, eyes set firmly at the port in the distance. As soon as Criston reached the ground, she turned and jumped onto him, arms around his neck.

“I won’t let them take you.” Rhaenyra said, her breath shaking.

“It’s alright.” Criston said as his hands ran down her long, soft hair. He tightened their embrace, in case it was the last time. Knowing that the princess chose him was enough for Criston. He placed her his hands on her shoulders and pulled away. He stared into her deep blue eyes, filled with fear and sadness.

“It’s alright.” Criston affirmed.

Those blue eyes quickly became engulfed in a flame that he rarely saw. She turned on her heels and quickly walked to the castle doors. When the guards began to open the doors, she pushed them with her hands, storming in. A great feat for a much a small lady.

Her fury could’ve felt by all.

The throne room was empty, save for Daemon, Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys. Before Rhaenyra could say anything, Daemon threw his hands in the air.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t invite him.”

“I did,” said Corlys, “You think I would let this insanity continue?”

Rhaenyra looked at Corlys, and the full realization of her actions washed down on her. Her temper cooling, she drew a deep breath and said, “Lord Corlys, I take full responsibility. The insult to your house and your heir is on me, alone. Please don’t punish my shield--“

Rhaenyra fell silent when Corlys raised a hand.

“This isn’t about what occurred at the wedding,” said Corlys, “This is about making things right with your father. He’s waiting for you in my council room.”

“We will walk with you,” said a voice behind them. Criston and Rhaenyra turned to Lyonel and Harwin Strong. Rhaeneya ran to them both, throwing her hands around Harwin’s neck.

“My lady”

“Mi’Lady!”

“Thank you.” Rhaenyra said to Harwin as he pulled her into a hug. “So much.”

“The king awaits,” said Lionel, “Let’s all go together.”

The men let Rhaenyra lead the way. Harwin slowed down to meet Criston, giving him a hard slap on the back. “You dog! The envy of the realm, you are!”

“Hm,” said Criston, “I feel more like my hours are numbered.”

“Are you crazy! You’re a hero among those poor knights. ” Harwin shook his shoulders. “Do you realize how many songs will be about you?!”

“Certainly gives Queenslayer a different meaning.” Lionel mused.

“I can hear you!” Rhaenyra shouted.

“S-sorry, my lady.” Lionel said, embarrased.

Harwin put his arm around Criston. “Don’t be so serious, Cole.”

“Easy for you to say,” said Criston, “Your life and cock aren’t at stake.”

———

They sat at the large, long table facing Viserys. Ser Harrold Westerling stood to one side, and Lyonel and Harwin stood another beside him. The king seemed calm. Eerily calm. He looked at Rhaenyra, then darted his eyes at Criston, who shrunk. He looked back at Rhaenyra and threw up his hands.

“Help me understand Daughter, because I am quite confused.”

Criston felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room when the king spoke.

“I gave you a choice, remember? I send you halfway around the world to meet any nobleman of your choosing. I gave you a choice and you chose no one.”

Harwin shuffled his feet nervously.

“So I take the choice away,” Viserys continued, “I tell you to marry Lord Laenor. You agree...you two seem to get along. I think, ah, finally this will be the end of my grief.” Viserys glanced at Lyonel asking, “I did say that, did I not?”

Lyonel said, “I believe those were your exact words, your Grace.”

Viserys hands hit the table with a loud bang! Everyone in the room jumped slightly.

“Then what happens?! Not hours, half hours before you are to say your wedding vows, you make a spectacle with your uncle. Your knight,” Viserys points to Criston, “starts a brawl, attacks the groom, kills the groom’s...you know...”

“Paramour, sir---”

“I know the damn word!” Viserys roared. His finger lands on Rhaenyra, sinking in her chair.

“And you...you just....vanish! Into thin air! Nothing but a bloodied white cloak and your shredded wedding dress -- shredded! What is the realm supposed to think?”

“I’m sorry, Father--”

“Ah! Ah! Let me finish!”

Rhaenyra bit her lip. Criston slipped his hand in hers, fingers laced.

“So I go to Dragonstone, because I am absolutely positive that Daemon has something to do with this lunacy. And what he tell me?” Viserys’ hands returned to the table top, folded over one another.

“That you’re in love. And you want to marry your sworn shield. And some...nonsense about Essos and oranges!”

“Gods,” murmured Criston.

“Gods indeed!” Viserys exclaimed, “Rhaenyra, if you wanted to marry your knight, why didn’t you tell me? Telling me was the first step, not all...this?!”

Viserys’ hands returned, shaking to mimic his exasperation. “This madness?! Why include all these other steps!?”

“Father--”

“Do you want the iron throne so badly that you insist on sending me to an early grave?” Viserys was near pleading at this point. “Let me tell you, if that is the case, you fail to realize that every decision you have made thus far is the antithesis of you sitting on it!”

“Father!”

“Why the other steps?!”

Lyonel stepped in. “If I may, Princess?”

Rhaenyra nodded, placing her head in her free hand, and keeping the other in a vice-grip hold on Criston’s.

“Your Grace,” said Lyonel, “I believe the princess was concerned that you would disapprove of her desire to marry Ser Cole.”

Viserys threw his arms in the air again. “Did I not give her a choice?! That was first step! Need I go over them again?!”

“You know that’s not true, Father!” Rhaeneya interjected.

Lyonel cleared his throat. “Your Grace --Ser Cole, forgive my for my bluntness --- Ser Cole, is a fine, young man. Were he a nobleman, I believe he would be the perfect fit as a spouse. However...in terms of his standing...”

Viserys looked at Lyonel like he wanted to throttle him. “Who cares about standing when you’re heir to the crown?! She’s the fucking queen! Not him!”

Criston could feel himself drowning in his own seat as the king pointed back at him.

“She could marry the fucking butcher and it would not matter!”

“Your Grace...”

As Lyonel continued his attempt at explanation, Rhaenyra tapped Criston’s hand. Criston gave his attention and she leaned over, whispering, “He cannot be talked down to reason when he is this upset. Might as well have a bit of fun in it.”

“What?” Criston looked at her, astonished. How could she think of fun at a time like this? How did the king not absolutely petrify her?

Then he remembered. Of course, because she’s the king’s daughter. Criston listened back in on Lyonel and the particular topic gave him dread.

“....There’s also the issue of Ser Cole’s vow of celibacy.” Lionel continued.

Viserys groaned. “Vows, vows, enough already! Why are we acting like the kingsguards aren’t fucking around like the rest of us?!”

Criston hid the urge to counter that he was not among them. However, especially since it seemed the king was on his side, he swallowed his ego.

“Yes,” said Lyonel, “but if caught with the princess--”

Rhaenyra stood up, shouting, “You would have chopped his cock off, Father!”

Oh gods, no.

Viserys stared at both Lionel and Rhaenyra, his head nearly snapping off. “What are you two going on about?!”

“Well,” said Lionel, “historically, the punishment for breaking a vow of the kingsguard is gelding and exile to the wall, or in the crime involving royals, gelding and execution.”

Harwin gulped and mouthed a “sorry” to Criston.

Viserys looked horrified. “Whose idea were these things?”

Lyonel was astonished. “You don’t even know?”

“How am I supposed to know?!” Viserys snapped. “Why would a king care about the dalliances of his guards?!”

“Oh please Father, do not remove Ser Criston’s cock!” Rhaenyra begged.

“Stop...” said Criston.

Lyonel continued, “Well, in the order of things there must be consequences--“

“I do quite enjoy it, Father--“

“STOP!” Criston and Viserys shouted in unison, then gawked at each other in amazement. Rhaeneya sat back down, eyes widened in shock.

Viserys sighed and waved towards Criston. “Well, I’m sure you have something to say, since it’s your cock we are discussing. Best be on with it.”

Criston’s face felt hot. A squeeze from Rhaenyra’s hand gave him the courage he needed. She released her grip, and Criston stood, his voice shaky.

“Your Grace, when...when I took my vows to join the kingsguard, I never thought...nor intended for things to play out this way,” Criston placed his hand over his chest and continued, “I took my vows to heart. I believe all vows should be kept to heart, including marraige.”

Criston fought the urge to run and hide as all eyes in the room were on him. He took a deep breath and continued,

“In this world...in the court,” said Criston, “I understand that marraige is for political reasons. For unity of houses. However, I would never...”

Criston looked at Rhaenyra, her face beaming. He could feel her pride in him, and his voice gained strength.

“I knew it would pain the princess to take a vow before God to someone she does not love.”

“So what,” said Viserys, “You kidnapped her to save her?”

“Actually,” countered Rhaenyra, “I kidnapped him, Father.”

Viserys gave her a glare. “Well that’s not shocking.”

“Your Grace...” said Cole.

Viserys nodded. “Yes, continue.”

“I love Princess Rhaenyra, your Grace. She is the bravest woman I have ever met. I did ask her to run away with me...” Criston looked down. “...I broke my vows. I put my feelings for her above the good of the realm.”

Criston looked back up and met Viserys eye to eye. “I am willing to face any punishment for my betrayal.”

“The only person here talking sense,” Viserys said sarcastically, glancing at Lyonel. Viserys then cleared his throat and addressed Criston.

“Ser Criston Cole, you have served as my daughter’s sworn shield for years. Whenever she ran, you followed. You always brought her back safe to me. Even now, you have kept her safe. I won’t forget that.

“However, this behavior is quite...severe. You risked destruction of House Targaryen by your insult of House Valeryon. You murdered a nobleman. And you broke your vow to serve the realm, me, when you ran away with the princess.”

The weight of the situation was heavier than any armor Criston wore in battle.

“My hand here thinks you should be punished,” said Viserys.

“No!” Rhaenyra shouted and rose to a stand, slamming her hands in the table. Her voice broke in desperation. “Punish me, Father! Please don’t hurt him!”

“Enough outbursts!” Viserys snapped. “It’s in your best interest to let him answer because I have had about enough of you!”

Criston swallowed as Rhaenyra took her seat. He knew this was the end. He wished that he could tell Rhaenyra that even the fleeting moments with her were best of his life.

He would have no regrets in his heart.

“I should be punished. I am sorry I disrespected your Grace. I truly am. I just...I want Rhaenyra to live a happy life. I believe the princess deserves to be happy.”

Viserys was quiet for a moment, looking at Rhaenyra. Finally he asked, “Are you happy with him?”

Rhaenyra bit her lip, cheeks flushed red. She stood up again and took his hand. “Yes, Father. I love Ser Criston. He belongs at my side, as my protector and...and my husband.”

Criston laced his fingers with hers.

“Ah,” said Viserys, hiding a small smile. He then frowned and turned towards Lyonel. “And you? What do you have to say to ruin this beautiful moment?”

Lyonel collected himself said, “Well, your Grace. This is quite an unprecedented matter.”

Viserys rubbed his temples. “Yes, my daughter is quite good at creating those.”

“The council will surely need...time to adjust,” said Lyonel, “There’s also the isssue of House Dorrodian. They may feel threatened by the potential new standing of House Cole. The morale of the kingsguard may...change. As well as the noblemen whose sons she refused.”

Viserys sighed loudly. “How about you give me an upside, there surely must be one?”

Lionel paused for a moment, then said, “The smallfolk will take the marraige well - she may be a beloved queen, in fact. The Stormlands will certainly take favor, which helps your Grace should Dorne cause strife in the future.”

“Two good things,” said Viserys, “You might get away with this, Ser Cole.”

“And...again, pardon any offense my lady...but a marriage between the two will end any...untoward rumors of the princess.”

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes.

“Okay,” said Viserys, “So we just weather the storm with the noblemen for a while. Not the first time.”

“There is...one more very good outcome of this, you’re Grace.”

Viserys glanced at Lyonel, who tried to hide a smile but just could not.

“It’s not Prince Daemon.”

Viserys looked at Criston, then at Harrold, then back at Lyonel. The two men slowly chuckled, erupting in a fit of laughter.

Viserys stood up, cheering, “It’s not Daemon! Thank the gods!”

Rhaenyra groaned.

“A wedding it is!”

Both their mouths dropped, unable to process what happened.

“Really?!”

“Yes, really. Unless you get the urge to defy me, then I will forbid it so you will finally marry!”

Rhaenyra chuckled. “I won’t defy you again, Father.”

“No you will soon, but forget that!” Viserys hurried to the other side of the table and pulled his daughter in a hug. “Get over here, you!” He snaked Criston around the arm, dancing into a jig.

“As for your punishment Ser Cole,” exclaimed Viserys, “you are hereby dismissed from the kingsguard, so you may spend a lifetime of headaches with my dear daughter!”

“I’m honored, your Grace” Criston stammered, laughing at the king’s excitement.

“A tourney! A feast bigger than the last! We must prepare at once!” Viserys quickly dragged Rhaenyra away, to plan the wedding, Lyonel running behind.

“Your Grace, they really should marry before returning....”

“Father, if we can have this wedding a little smaller....”

“A pox on the both of you! How dare you deny me a tourney!”

———

Rhaenyra knew, if she were to be queen, she would have to repair the oaths she broke. A bit of politics was necessary. Rhaenyra excused herself from her father and Lyonel when her eye caught the first apology to make.

“Ser Laenor!”

Laenor turned to face Rhaenyra and nodded. “My lady.”

A still silence lingered between them. Then Rhaenyra said, “Please don’t hold Ser Criston to what happened. Joffrey’s death is my fault. If there’s anything I can do, to repair the rift....”

“Can I savagely beat him to death?“

Rhaenyra blinked. “No?”

“Then no. Please excuse me.” Laenor said, and he turned to walked away.

“Don’t worry over him,” Said Corlys, approaching from the opposite hall. “He will manage.”

Rhaenyra turned to him and said, “Again, Lord Corlys, I’m sorry. I never meant to continue my family’s perceived insult to your house.”

As they walked together towards the throne room, Corlys began to muse. “These men in Kings Landing squabble and cry over tradition, but they only think of their own necks. I see you as one who will rule from your heart, and I look forward to serving you when you take the crown.”

“Thank you.” Rhaeneya bowed.

“You continue to surprise me every day,” said a familiar voice. Rhaenys Velaryon appeared by Corlys side. “Your father’s love protects you. Remember that, Princess.”

“It truly does.” Rhaenyra looked into her eyes, and wondered. How did she feel when she lost her claim?

“My Lady, years ago, I spoke cold words to you. My pride was trying to hide the truth. I...”

Rhaenys welcomed her into an embrace. Rhaenyra accepted it, holding her tight. For a moment, she felt as if her mother was back.

“You were right. The lords do not want a woman ruling Westeros.”

“They do not,” said Rhaenys, “And they certainly don’t want one setting precedents and threatening their comfort.” She pulled back and swept a piece of Rhaenyra’s hair from her face.

“Your fathers order is respected...as long as he is alive. When he does, it will change. Be ready for that.”

Rhaenyra nodded.

“A word of advice,” said Corlys, “stake your claim now. While he is alive. House Valeryon has your back.”

“Thank you my lord. Princess”

“If there is anything we can do for you in the meantime.” Corlys said.

Rhaeneya mused. “Yes, actually. You’ve dealt with the North in your travels?”

Corlys nodded. “A bit.”

“Winter is coming. What does it mean?”

Corlys’ face became stern. “Where did you hear that?”

“It’s a bit of a long story, I’m afraid.”

“I see,” Corlys said, offering his arm. “Walk with me.”

Rhaeneya accepted his offer, and the three walked together towards the library.

———

Criston removed his armor and white cloak out of sight, handing the iron that once chained his vows back to Ser Harrold. The cool, salty winds of Driftmark hit his skin, and Criston felt the weight of everything leave him with the armor.

“This family never fails to surprise me.” Harrold said, as he packed the steel. “This brings me back to the days of King Jaehaerys and Princess Saera. You should be thankful our king is a kinder soul.”

“I owe you so many apologies, Lord Commander.”

Harrold stood, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re a good man, Ser Criston. I’m honored to serve you.”

What? Serve him?

Harrold read Coles face. “You’re a member of the Royal family now. You’ll have much to be used to.”

The two then left to meet the rest of the kingsguard at the galley, and all knights greeted Criston with hugs and pats on the back.

“Cole, you crazy fool!” Ser Arryk exclaimed.

“My brother and the rest bet your head on a pike,” said Erryk as he handed Criston a pint. “Not me, Ser Cole!”

Criston scoffed and sipped his beer. “It’s been an honor serving with you men. Truly.”

“There’s my future nephew!” A familiar voice exclaimed, and Criston downed the rest of his beer.

Daemon sauntered in, arm and arm with Lady Laena, his newly betrothed. Criston turned to the two and gave a slight bow. “Prince Daemon, Mi’Lady. Congratulations to you both.”

Laena curtsied. “And to you, Ser Cole! We were all quite worried about you.”

“Yes indeed,” Daemon quipped as he took two pints and handed one to Laena. “But it seems that Ser Cole will live to fuck another day.”

Daemon raised his glass in the air and others followed. “To Ser Criston’s cock!”

“To his cock!” All but Criston and Harrold shouted.

“Gods,” Criston murmured, “I suppose my cock has you to thank for all this.”

“Not all me,” said Daemon, “My brother seems to like you! Or moreso, how happy you make my neice.”

The sound of heels interrupted them as Rhaenyra came scuttling towards them, a wide grin on her face.

“See?” Daemon smirked, “She never looks at me like that.”

You’re damn right, Criston thought. He gave his newly betrothed a nod as she and Laena shared a hug.

“I didn’t intrude on your announcement, did I?” Rhaeneya asked Laena.

“Oh no!” Laena said, “In fact, you gifted us a wedding in King’s Landing!”

Daemon nearly spit out his beer.

“You didn’t hear, Uncle? We had to compromise,” said Rhaenyra, “Ser Criston and I are to wed here, and my father will have his lavish party and tourney back home, to celebrate your wedding!”

“Lovely.” Daemon groaned.

“Come with me,” Rhaeneya said to Criston, tugging him at the sleeve, “We must get you fitted in time.”

“Fitted for what?” Criston followed along without much choice.

Rhaenyra scoffed. “The wedding! And you can’t return as the Prince Consort in your rags, Darling.”

“My rags are quite comfortable.” Criston quipped.

“Yes and you look quite handsome without that metal,” Rhaeneya said as she led him into a small room full of seamstresses. “But you need to look a bit more together with your new title.”

Criston’s arms shot up as a seamstress wrapped a measuring cloth around his chest. Another took to measure his arms, while another bent down to measure his calf and thigh.

Criston sighed, grateful that at least he wasn’t getting his limbs ripped out. However, everything was happening so fast, his head wanted to spin off of his body. Just hours earlier, he was ready for a certain death. Now he was being...tailored? The life of a dishonorable knight to the life of a new royal was impossible for Criston to comprehend.

He glanced at a beaming Rhaenyra. Criston hadn’t seen her this happy in so long, and the beautiful sight put him at ease.

Slowly, Criston felt himself smiling back at her.

———

Criston found himself, three days later in the same room with Rhaenyra. He dressed himself in the black long sleeved shirt and slacks provided, looking at the line of coats in astonishment.

“They made so much, in such a short time?”

Rhaenyra nodded. “They’re quite brilliant, really. Now, I told them you didn’t like anything too flashy, if that’s alright.”

Cole sighed in relief. “I appreciate the thought.”

“Of course, Darling” Rhaeneya said, giddy as she picked one outfit.

Criston felt himself returning to the night in her bed chambers. This time, rather than unbuckling the metal of his armor, Rhaenyra slipped the sleeves of a thick, red coat across his arms. She buttoned the front, and he looked in amazement at the black clasps, shaped into flying dragons.

She directed Criston towards the mirror and asked, “What do you think?”

He bent his knees slightly, allowing Rhaenyra to smooth out the fabric on his shoulders. Criston stared at himself in the mirror, mouth open. He ran his fingers along the silk, feeling the intricate patterns of the black stitching on the collar. Through the weaving, Criston could see the black pellets of his house sigil, and along the collars of his sleeves bore the design of dragons breath.

“You don’t like it?”

Criston didn’t recognize himself.

“No it’s...elegant and.....”

“Loud?”

Criston sighed. “A bit.”

“Hm. Uncle was right, black looks good on you.”

Rhaeneya unbuttoned him and returned the coat. She thumbed through several more pieces, and gave Criston black, sleeveless tunic.

“Now, you can wear red under this if you like, when you feel like standing out a bit more.”

Criston chuckled nervously, shaking his head. “I don’t think I will for a time.”

“Good to know I was correct in avoiding gold stitching.” Rhaenyra sighed. She rested her hands on her hips, eying him up and down. Criston smirked, knowing she wasn’t happy.

“What’s wrong with this?” Criston teased.

Rhaeneya shook her head. “It is a wedding Criston, not a funeral. You can’t wear all black!”

Criston bore a grin. “I’ll take the first one, then.”

“Oh good, they had the ceremony in mind when designing it.”

“So I never had a choice?”

“Of course not!”

Rhaeneya redressed him in the red coat, and Criston found that he liked it more a second time. Rhaenyra reached under his collar to remove the chain he wore around his neck. She held the medallion, finger tracing the metal.

“Are you disappointed that we aren’t in Essos?” Rhaeneya asked.

Criston tried to joke, “You couldn’t dress me like this in Essos.” When she did not reply, he lifted her chin to meet her gaze.

“All I want,” Criston said, “Is to be with you. Essos, King’s Landing, it does not matter where.”

Rhaenyra smiled and pressed her lips against his.

“You better get used to being dressed by me, then.”

Criston grabbed her hips and pressed her to him. “As long as I can undress you.”

“Oh, Ser Criston!” Rhaeneya exclaimed as she slapped his shoulder.

———

The most notable houses that arrived on short notice were the Starks, the Tullys, the Arryns and of course, the Coles.

Corrine Cole nearly leapt off the ship to embrace her son and future daughter. She whispered in Rhaenyra’s ear, “I prayed to the Mother for you two every night.”

Rhaenyra smiled. “I’m so glad she answered.”

Rhaeneya and Criston stayed at the port throughout the day, greeting every house that arrived.

“Another wedding, Mi’Lady?” Rickon Stark asked with a smirk.

Rhaeneya curtsied. “Second time is the charm, Lord Stark!”

“Aye,” said Rickon, who was eyeing Criston up and down. “This one’s got more meat on his bones. The North approves.”

“Thank you, Lord Stark.” Criston bowed, as he was not sure else what to do.

“Come to Winterfell sometime, I’d be honored for you to join us in a hunt!”

“Gladly,” said Criston, “Plenty of game in the North, I’ve heard.”

“I killed a boar once,” Rhaenyra quipped. Both men glanced at her suspiciously, and she finally admitted with a smile, “With Ser Criston’s help, of course.”

Rickon tapped Criston’s shoulder. “Eh? Not many lasses like that in King’s Landing.”

As time passed and the day moved to the evening, Rhaenyra was urged by her stewardesses to get ready for the feast. Rhaenyra stayed as long as she could, hoping for one more ship to arrive. As the sea lay still, and the horizon remained empty, Rhaenyra accepted that the queen would not be joining them.

She felt Criston’s hand on her shoulder. Rhaeneya drew a deep sigh and turned to return to the castle for preparation.

———

The prewedding feast, while smaller, was far more jubilant than the first one. Criston entered the grand hall with his family, trying to avoid all eyes on him. At the head of the grand table sat the Targaryens, all standing to greet them with jubilation. Yes, even Daemon.

When Rhaenyra stood, Criston felt his breath escape him. For this night, her golden hair was down, several braids seated on her head like she wore a crown. Her dress was off shoulder, detailed gold stitching to resemble dragon scales, with long sleeves that bore golden silk inside them. Jewels of red and chains of gold adorned her neck and ears.

She smiled at him, and Criston felt like he was staring at an angel.

Viserys, free from the burdens of his duties, was in rare drunken form. He spent most of the feast singing battle songs with the equally drunken Coles. Criston was concerned how Daemon would treat his family, considering his sarcastic torment of the knight.

It turns out that Daemon was absolutely enthralled with them. He shared battle stories with his brothers and uncles, danced with his sister and neices. Daemon also shared his love of history with William, who obliged with tales of his own.

At some point, Daemon drunkenly asked him, “Tell me friend, how a bunch like the Coles produced someone as serious as your son?”

William stayed mum for a bit. Then, he leaned over to Daemon and admitted, “Cris takes after his mother.”

Corrine slapped him on the arm “Honestly!”

“Honestly, indeed!” Daemon exclaimed in laughter.

———

After an attempted (and failed) first dance with Criston (to the realm’s hilarity), Rhaenerya felt the warmth of her fathers hands as he dressed her with the Targaryen cloak of black and gold. “It’s time, dear.”

Butterflies swarmed in her chest, the excitement nearly bringing her tears. She approached the center of the hall, cleared to make way for the bride. Viserys walked along side her, clearing his throat to hide a cough.

“Are you okay?” Rhaeneya whispered.

“I’m fine,” Viserys said, “Just...so happy for you.”

Was this true happiness, Rhaenyra asked herself. The lightness, the freedom from worry and suspicion that she held onto for years had finally melted that night. Criston stood, waiting for her, wedding cloak draped across his arms. He looked so handsome, and more regal than any man she had met who carried a greater name.

Rhaeneya could not hide her smile as she walked her path to freedom, to love that she only existed in stories. She released the cloak, and her father slipped the fabric off her.

“You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection.”

Criston wrapped his cloak over her, a scarlet red. She smiled at her favorite color, taking in the warmth of the silk.

Yes. This feels so right. This is a marraige.

“The love of the Seven is holy and eternal. The source of all life and love. We stand here tonight in thanks and praise to join two souls as one. Hear now their vows:”

They wrapped their fingers together, saying in unison,

“Father, Mother, Warrior, Smith, Maiden, Crone, Stranger.

“I am yours and you are mine. From this day until the end of my days. Whatever may come.”

Was this how marraige was supposed to feel? So light and...free? The dread she felt with Laenor was long forgotten in the presence of Criston. Her sworn protector. Her husband.

“Here, in the presence of Gods and Men, I proclaim Criston of House Cole, and Rhaenyra of House Targaryen to be man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.”

They shared kissed, a long and meaningful gift to the Seven. Warmth filled Rhaenerya’s heart, and she believed, truly, that nothing could ruin this moment.

The sound of metal against the ground filled the room, and both turned to see Viserys, crumpled on the ground.

Criston, Rhaeneya and Daemon ran to him, and a quiet, joyous feast once again devolved into chaos.

Next Chapter

[kimthwariru]

Namjoon reaction—calling him a ‘friend’ when he clearly has a thing for you

❀genre: smut, a bit of fluff

❀collage au

(This was originally supposed to be a quick reaction but something happened to me and I couldn’t stop writing)

“Look, Jisoo, I’d agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong” you flash a cheeky smile at your best friend. She’s being going on and on about how this Kim Namjoon guy had a thing for you.

You can’t lie, you’ve seen him around in campus and sometimes you’d wish he would suffocate you with these thighs of his. Ugh. The perfect combo, lean yet masculine physique with a brain that actually functions for a change. You’ve seen the way these collage girls were circling him around and you can’t blame them, the guy was a catch.

But he was not your crowd of people. He was outgoing, social and had loads of what you like to call “the lad friends”. You guessed his main activities were partying and getting shitfaced every night.

You’ve talked to him a couple of times. He uses the same bench as you to read now and then. You would eventually take sneak peeks at the books he was reading, check if he had any taste or not, and the result was always better than what you expected. This guy knew books. He was not just reading what was on the best seller’s that week to look sophisticated in front of others.

When he caught you peaking he’d started having small talk with you. You swear you’ve never experienced a better conversation flow with another human being. This guy screamed comfort. He seemed genuinely curious about the things you were saying. None of that painful act of pretending to be interested just because he wanted to get laid. You had been talking with him for a month straight and aside from a few moments of some what flirty looks his actions never suggested something more.

His aura was welcoming and he always paid attention to the little things. Unlike some other shallow guys out there, he felt…different.

But how different could he really be? You’ve seen the people he hangs out with. Kim Taehyung? He had a relationship with three girls at the same time. Didn’t even apologize for being the biggest jerk in history. You’ve heard Jung Hoseok’s body count was reaching a 3 digit number AND Jeon Jungkook once fucked 4 different girls at the same night.

Just thinking about it makes you sick. It pains you to admit but there’s only one truth to this. Even if Kim Namjoon was interesting, he was definitely a person you needed to stay away from. All the data point to a big fuckboy alert!

“Come on y/n…. If he wasn’t even in the slightest interested in you then why did he tell me explicitly that he wanted you to attend the party??”

“An invitation to a party doesn’t mean anything. Besides, I’m sure I’m not his style. Have you seen the type of girls he hangs out with? Yikes.”

Jisoo smirked at you “Oh, I see you’re stalking him now?”

You shake your head “Don’t be ridiculous! We take Econ together, that’s all. What? Am I supposed to cover my eyes every time I see him?”

“Maybe you should” Jisoo came closer to you “Y/n, we’re going to that party”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“This is a big mistake, I’ll get bored within the hour” You scream at Jisoo over the loud music.

“Don’t be a whiney ass and enjoy yourself for once” she handed you a drink.

Enjoy yourself for once. You and Jisoo’s definition of enjoying one self were clearly very different. You scan the room to look for any familiar faces you could talk to. Unfortunately, not a lot of your acquaintances attended frat parties.

Your head motion immediately pauses when you meet eyes with Namjoon across the garden. Was he looking at you this whole time? You feel your cheeks burn.

Initially, you don’t know how to react but eventually you flash him a small smile and focus back on Jisoo

“Kim Namjoon just gave me the biggest stare of all time” you say as you down your drink

“What!?” Jisoo’s eyes widened “This is the time where I say I told you so.”

You think for a second that maybe Jisoo was right all along. But that just makes the whole thing more dangerous for you. You can’t lie, Namjoon is attractive, but you knew he was trouble. Maybe he liked you today and then liked another girl tomorrow.

Suddenly, you feel a hand touch your shoulder “Hey y/n, Jisoo. Glad you guys made it” Namjoon’s low voice pierced your ears.

Jisoo gave you a look before replying to him “Hey!! We couldn’t miss such a night!” She smiled “right y/n??”

“Yeah!! Totally” you cheer kind of awkwardly.

Namjoon’s eyes fixed on you. You felt his stare eat you up. His whole presence felt angelic yet overwhelming. “Do you guys maybe want to join us? We’re sitting right by the pool”

“Oh! Sure, why not!” Jisoo answered almost immediately

You were walking towards the pool, Namjoon was pacing right next to you, he was so close to the point where you could sort of smell his cologne. You swear you could get drunk off his scent.

“I have to be honest, I didn’t think you’d actually come” He chuckled

“Are you disappointed?” You teased and raised an eyebrow.

You see a dimple smile making its appearance, how can this dude be so incredibly hot and cute at the same time? “I think pleasantly surprised would be the right way to put it”

Why do you feel like you can not breath? He hasn’t said much, yet you feel yourself burn up all of a sudden. “Good to know” you smile back.

“Joon! You have to see this” was the first thing Taehyung yelled when you arrived to the place where the guys were sitting “12 o’clock, Hobi making out with Mina from 3rd year. Can you believe it? After two years of trying to get it, he finally succeeds”

Of course the main talk is girls. No surprise there.

“Jungkook bitch, you owe me 20 bucks” Taehyung eyed Jungkook

Your expression screamed disgust. Apparently, Namjoon noticed “They are not as bad as they seem” he elbowed you.

You give him and awkward laugh “I’ll take your word for it” You lie.

“Guys, this is Jisoo and y/n. Can you stop trying to head lock each other and say hello? You’re embarrassing me” Namjoon introduced the pair of you to the boys who were still arguing about the bet. 

“Oh, hey girls.” Taehyung paused to inspect Jisoo’s face. “Hey, business and shipping? Ain’t it?”

“Oh, yeah, right!” Jisoo smiled

“Hyung aren’t you taking that class for like the third time? How many times can you fail you recon?” Jungkook teased him and Taehyung answered by giving him a slap on the shoulder.

“Hey y/n, do you want to go grab a drink? I think you’ll need it if you are to tolerate these guys” Namjoon offered.

“I trust you know best” you smile and quickly follow behind him. His shoulders wide and his muscles very visible even through his airy shirt. This guy was a whole statue.

“By the way, I’ve never seen you at parties before. I think I saw you once at the December ball but that’s about it. Not really a big fan of these kind of things, are you?” He suddenly said. You can’t really decode his words. How did Kim Namjoon know you even went to the December ball? You’re pretty sure you didn’t even talk to him that night.

“Interested in me much?” You give him a cheeky smile but he was just looking at you, a couple of seconds passed without him responding “I’m only joking! It’s true I don’t really attend these sort sort of things.”

“And what do you do for fun miss y/n?” He laughs and you swear if you could bottle the sound and get drunk on it you would.

“Oh you’ll think I’m lame”

“Try me” he said in a serious tone while starring right through your eyes. Suddenly, your body felt too heavy for your legs to bear. How can he get to you like that?

“Okay…” You start, him looking at you like that didn’t help control your train of thought, but you manage to get a hold of yourself “So you know that little corner cafe on willow street? Every Friday they have these comedy music nights. A guy-“

“Park Jihoon and the little funny guitar, yeah! I used to go there every Friday during my freshman years! Do they still do that old thing? I swear the pun with the atom never failed to make my day.” He started laughing again.

“Whoah what? You’re telling me you’ve been to the shrieking shack?” That place was a little treasure you’d found earlier this year. It was an amazingly cozy place, perfect during the cold winter time. The staff were all so kind and wore these big oversized colorful ties. But the people going there were all much older than you. You’ve never heard someone your age talk about that place. Let alone a person like Namjoon.

“Careful how you talk to a veteran y/n. I’ve basically helped to build the place” he chuckled.

“Y/n is that you?” A familiar voice greeted you.

“Jimin! Oh my god, hey! It’s been ages since I’ve seen you!” You hug him.

Jimin was a great soul, he majored in contemporary dance and ballet. He had been traveling for the past couple of years enrolling in some extra ballet classes in the magical city of Paris. You envied him for his talent and admired him for his passion.

“Girl, you have to come visit me. You’ll love Europe!”

“I would also LOVE to have some money in my wallet” you laugh “Oh Jimin, this is my friend, Namjoon. We go to collage together”

Namjoon gave you a look and soon after shook Jimin’s hand “What’s up. Nice to meet you”

“Nice to meet you too! But y/n, I’m so so sorry, I have to go. I was actually on my way out just now. I sort of uhm, have a thing-you know” he coughed “I’m leaving in two weeks, can we please meet before that?”

You knew Jimin was probably off to his ex boyfriends house. They broke up before Jimin left for Paris but every time he got back he’d have a couple of hookups with him. “Oh yeah! I bet you’ve got something very important right now, you better go quickly” you teased him “I’ll text you tomorrow, ok?”

Jimin laughed so much his eyes were barely visible “definitely! text me! I’ll be off then! Bye mister Kim Namjoon” he playfully said and was out of your sight a second later.

“You two seem…close” Namjoon suddenly commented

“Yeah! We were! But he has been studying abroad for like two years now.”

Namjoon’s facial expression was quite enigmatic “Did you guys ever… you know”

“Oh no no no.” You pause to make a small chuckle “Jimin isn’t exactly interested in, well, girls like me, or to be exact, girls in general”

Namjoon’s eyes widened and he immediately bursted into laughter “oh… I see” he made a pause “So tell me then, how come the old soul that never goes to parties finally attends one?”

You feel your cheeks burn red. Partly because the reason you went was him. You don’t know why, but the past month you and Namjoon hit it off very well and you wanted to test Jisoo’s crazy theory, you wanted to make sure for yourself if Namjoon was interested in you or not. Now the problem was, even if it turned out he did like you, you didn’t know what you’d do exactly. Namjoon was a really nice guy, but he didn’t come without his red flags.

“Just wanted to try something different, I guess”

“And how’s that 'different' treating you so far?”

What could you possibly tell him? That you have enjoyed every minute you guys have been talking? That you think that just by staring at you he could make you feel things no other guy could? You barely can admit all of that to yourself. “I think pleasantly surprised is the right way to put it” you repeat his words from before.

You see him smile at that. “You know what y/n? I’m really happy you came”

How can he make your heart beat so fast with just one sentence? “Oh really? And why is that?”

“I don’t know, I guess… I just like talking to you, you know? Whenever I’m around you I feel at ease, like I can tell you anything. I feel different when I’m with you, but in a good way”

“Wow” that sound escaped your lips without your consent

Namjoon laughed “Why? Is it too weird?”

“No! Definitely not weird, more like, I don’t know, surprising?”

“In what way?”

“Well you’re… Kim Namjoon, you’re the 2021 class president and you’re like the most popular guy in the whole campus right now.” You made a pause “And I’m just..-“

“The most interesting girl I’ve ever met” he cuts you off

The way he was looking down at you made butterflies grow in your stomach “You really think so?”

He gently grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him “I know so” he leaned down, you swear his eyes had the whole galaxy painted inside of them. You couldn’t even breath properly at this point. Kim Namjoon was too close and the only thing you were thinking about was how well his kiss would feel “God, you’re so beautiful” he said and pulled you in for a soft, gentle kiss.

You couldn’t believe your senses. Kim Namjoon was kissing you and you really thought the earth had stopped spinning right then and there. You could feel his big palms traveling up and down your back.

His kiss was breathless, jubilant, filled with the joy of life, and you should stop him, he is no good to you, you know that, but his scent is delightful and his lips are so warm.

Unconsciously, your hands reach the inside of his shirt. His skin hot and soft at the touch.

"y/n" he practically moans your name, and just the sound makes your knees go week "Don't do that, I don't think I'll be able to stop"

"Who said anything about stopping?" You say and go back to kiss him even more passionately this time.

“There’s a lot of people here, my room is upstairs, would you perhaps want to-“

“Yes.” You immediately say. You don’t care about anything anymore, you’d let your future self deal with the consequences of today’s actions. The only thing that has been lingering in your mind is how good he’d feel inside of you.

The moment you’re finally alone in his room, he lifts you up, swinging you around and kissing you. It was like a dream. Namjoon was everything you wanted. Your reluctance about getting with him didn’t matter any more, the tingly feeling in your stomach overtook every single bit of hesitation you had. You needed him.

“God, you’re lovely” he exhaled

He looks at you as he sinks you down on the bed. Planting a soft kiss before his hands quickly begun to peel away clothes, yanking his belt loose, fumbling hurriedly at his trousers.

You look at his lips tracing your skin and the faint moisture left behind, you look at his muscly arms as he lifts you up and sinks you down again, you look at him looking at you, with eyes brighter than the sun itself. Was this all a dream?

When your dress was finally off he undoes your bra clasp on the way down. Slowly planting kisses on your collarbone, the tops of your breasts, your sternum, and you arched you back as you were needy for more.

His lips finally reach your nipples .Your boobs smooth under his hands, your nipple firm under his tongue, and there, that makes you squirm again, a little more insistently this time.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking wet right now, I feel it” You moan

You see him raise an eyebrow. A vivid smirk painted on his face “Let’s check, shall we?”

He splays his hand low across your belly, and the first brush of his thumb over your clit makes you breathe in sharply and him forget to breathe at all.

“I’m your friend?” He breaths in, his voice dangerously low

“Oh come on” You manage to say in between moans “what was I supposed to tell Jimin?”

His strokes and flicks are light and teasing, his thumb carefully circling around your clit. He gives you a slow, constant, unyielding pressure that makes your breath come up short, makes your toes curl in the effort not to move.

“I’m gonna fuck the word ‘friend’ right out of your pretty little mouth” he covers your mouth with an intense kiss before slipping two fingers of his free hand inside of you, and you makes a noise like triumph and want all wrapped up together. If his fingers felt like this, you can’t imagine how his dick felt like.

“Hmm?” He doesn’t look up, he keeps his eyes on his hands, on you, spread out beneath him “You like that baby?”

God, just the way the word 'baby' sounded coming from his mouth could make you come right this second. You look at him, his eyes look as hungry as his voice sounded. This dude was out of this world.

“Please Namjoon, I want it, I want you inside of me right now”

Namjoon lowered his underwear, and simply pressed his hard member on your slit. You could feel his balls softly caressing your clit as he made subtle movements while kissing you. “Such a needy little thing” he teases “Tell me how bad you want my cock inside of you”

“Oh..” you moan “I’d do anything, please…give it to me… fuck me like you own me” you whined as you used your pussy to caress his length up and down. He seemed to enjoy they way you touched him.

“Fuck y/n… that feels so good” he rests his forehead on yours.

“Imagine what my inside will feel then” you whisper in his ear “I’m such a tight good girl” you move your mouth in front of his, bitting his bottom lip as he growled when he felt your movement grow faster

“Fucking hell” he immobilized your body with his hands and pressed you down to the bed. He immediately shoves his dick inside you, filing you up to the brim before staying there for a couple of seconds and then pulling out completely. That movement made your vagina crave to be filled all the way up again.

“More” you whine, a dopey expression all over your face. You were so needy of him, but you didn’t care.

He lowered his left hand towards your thigh and gave it a big squeeze, kissing you aggressively while doing so. He quickly braced himself back into you, you felt your walls completely wrap around his member. It felt magical.

His strokes long and steady in the beginning. Every time he went in and out completely you felt the pit of your stomach burn in pleasure. Namjoon was doing everything right, you can’t lie to yourself, this is the best sex you’ve ever had. Normally with other guys you don’t even come close to coming, but now, you feel yourself trying not to do so.

“You like my dick being inside of you baby?” He plants a small kiss on your neck and goosebumps run down your spine.

‘Like’ was nowhere near good enough of a word to explain how much the sensation of him thrusting his hard member in and out of you made you feel. “I love it Namjoon… I just love it…”

Your words must’ve turned Namjoon even more on, because his pace immediately started becoming faster and sloppier. Every time your skin touched a loud sound could be heard. Namjoon was thrusting deeper and deeper into you, and every time he’d fill you up completely you’d cry out his name.

“Ah, I like my name so much better when you fucking moan it like that” he says and started shoving his dick inside of you like crazy. You could tell he was close to coming, and so were you.

It wasn’t long until you felt your walls clenching and your toes curling. The sensation overtook all of your body, it was mad… your heart beat uncontrollable. Namjoon made you feel a completely new range of emotions.

“Ah y/n, I can feel you cumming all over my dick” his voice cracky, You could see how turned on he was by all of this, by you. “Fuck” he shoved harder “You’re so” harder “fucking hot”

Namjoon stopped and pulled out immediately spreading his cum all over your tummy. The sight was breathtaking, you’ve never found a man so attractive while coming before, but then, Namjoon is no ordinary man.

He quickly grabs a couple of tissues and wipes you clean before laying on top of you again, placing another soft kiss this time. His hand playing with your hair. You were both naked and sweaty and a mess but it felt so magical. You wrapped your hands around his broad shoulders, pulling him even closer to you. You didn’t want even a centimeter of distance between you and him.

He suddenly stopped kissing you and simply stared at your eyes. After a minute or two, or maybe three, you're not really sure, time didn't exist right now, he tacked a string of hair behind your left ear.

“Y/n, let me take you on a date. Please. I know you don’t normally go out with guys like me, but I swear I’ll make it worth your while-“

“Park Jihoon and the little funny guitar. How does that sound? Or are you too good for the shrieking shack now?” You chuckled

“I’d love that” he smiled, making your heart melt a little.

[paradoxlemonade]

What Else is Out There?

Fandom: Dream SMP

AU: Fantasy/Fairy Tale

Ships: ambiguously romantic Dream/George

words: 2107

Warnings: very mild allusions to past child abuse/shunning. Overall this is fluffy!

Ao3: Here!

Summary: Dream is a practitioner of magic: a witch. The world isn't kind to witches, so he stays hidden away in the mountains until a lost and weary traveler arrives on his doorstep. Can George convince him to come out hiding and find a place he can belong?

My @mcytblraufest gift for @debilchickennugget! I hope you enjoy :]

... ...

Dream loves early mornings.

The air tastes fresher with a bite of cold before the heat gets to it. Only the barest sunrise peaks over the pine trees cascading up the bluffs and falling away as they climbed closer to the sole cottage on the mountaintop.

Good morning, the sun says.

And good morning, Dream thinks back.

Of course, the sun does not actually speak. Neither does Dream.

Dream does not speak to many people in general, only seeing the townsfolk when he picks his way across the rocks to the village nestled in the trees, even more hidden than him. Less often, he meets a stranger when they approach his home looking for magical remedies.

It doesn't happen frequently, but often enough. So he grows more herbs than he needs, makes more potions than he can drink. Most spoil before they’re needed, but they prove fruitful once and a while, even if the potions are often rebuffed. The lonesome times they’re needed make the effort worth it.

And so Dream lives alone and prepares for infrequent guests.

But that is okay. Dream has his cottage, and the trees, and the sky, and the sun. And that is all he needs. He lives his life.

Day in, day out.

Breathe in, breathe out.

He turns from the view on his porch and back inside. It’s time for him to start his day.

… …

A disturbance comes eventually, as it always does. As many days can pass as they like, but the stillness never lasts.

The sun has fled the sky, a marching band of clouds thundering across in its wake. Notedrops of rain buffet the cabin, but Dream pays them no mind and curls up in his armchair by the hearth. Soon his tea will be ready, and all will be right.

Then comes the incessant rapping knocks at his front door.

Dream rises from his seat and creeps towards the intrusion. Not a sound betrays who lies beyond, anything they might have called out swept away by the wind.

His hand meets the knob and turns.

What awaits him but a sickly pale young man, shivering on his porch. “I’m sorry to disturb you so late, but the storm…” He trails off, looking ashamed. “It appears I’ve gotten lost.”

Dream blinks. And blinks again. A person is here. “It appears you have.” He steps aside and motions in. “I’m making tea. Would you like some?”

The man smiles in relief. “That sounds nice, thank you.”

In moments, Dream has George—as the stranger happens to be named—shucked of his soaked coat and shoes and curled up in the armchair by the fire. He shoves an overfull mug of lemon chamomile tea into his hands and fusses with the logs. Dream doesn’t have guests often, so he must treat any who arrive right.

George smiles graciously. “Thank you so much for your hospitality. I don’t know what I would have done if I didn’t stumble across your cabin.” The ruddy color has already returned to his cheeks, leaving him with a pleasant, youthful complexion. His face is downturned to the lumpy mug—Dream isn’t much of a potter—as he absentmindedly runs his calloused fingertips over the speckled handle. “You make lovely tea.”

Dream returns his expression. “Thank you. I’m just glad to have a visitor—It gets rather quiet here all by myself.”

Silence was an old friend, but it was hardly good company. Almost all the villages within a day’s walking distance tolerated him at best, and the people of those villages gave his home a wide berth unless they purposefully sought him out for his magic.

George hums. “How long have you been living around here? There’s nothing around for ages.”

Dream chuckles dryly. “Long enough, and with a long while more ahead. I’m only 22 now, so I’ve got a ways to go.”

Before his guest can respond, he continues: “So what brings you to my part of these forests? You said it yourself, there’s not much here except for the woods.”

George relaxes into the upholstery. “I’m trying to make it to Ferrowbrooke before the Festival Of Spring’s Equinox. I promised some friends I’d join them this year.”

Dream’s eyebrows shoot up. Ferrowbrooke is far away enough that few of his already scarce visitors hail from the trade port to the south. Despite that, he’s heard plenty of stories about the bustling town on the other side of the rocky peaks. “You’ll have to set off early tomorrow, then. That’s hours away on foot, though if you leave soon enough, you should get there by the next day.”

It was too bad that his guest would be leaving so soon. It was nice when they would linger for an extra day or so. He sighs. “I’d love to see the festival. I’ve never been.” He swirls the sediment from the tea leaves around in his mug. “I’d like to try the magnolia tarts sometime.”

George tilts his head and gives him a confused stare. “You’ve never been to the festival? But you live so close to Ferrowbrooke—has it just never worked out?”

Dream smiles sadly. If only it were that simple. “Not only that, I’ve never been to Ferrowbrooke at all. I’m afraid my reputation will precede me with the townsfolk.”

George looks off to the side with furrowed brows, mulling over his words. Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say. He was never the best at polite conversation.

"You've never been to Ferrowbrooke?"

"Not once."

George shakes his head. "That's a shame. I think you'd like it."

Dream takes a sip of his own mug and raises an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"

"Your gardens."

… The gardens? The gardens he plants mainly for magic brews—healing and luck, sleep and satiation? Those uneven rows of herbs, efficient but not beautiful? Surely this was a crude joke; outsiders only appreciated his gardens when they needed his magic and no time else.

So George was trying to sweeten him up! He wasn't truly lost—no. He had an ulterior motive for arriving on his doorstep looking like a drowned cat. And without the honor to just ask outright!

Dream scowls and sets his mug on the table. He doesn't want the drink anymore. "That's not a very nice joke."

George gives him an odd look, lowering his cup. “What in the world are you talking about? You have herbs and flavorful plants, and the people there like that sort of thing.”

“You know who I am, don’t you? Then you should know—”

“Actually,” George cuts in frostily, “I don’t.” He huffs and places his mug on the coffee table next to Dream’s. “It’s not like I’m a local. I’m from Wickerfield; I don’t know any of the gossip around here.”

Dream blinks again.

“Where’s Wickerfield?”

George snorts, a dry thing almost lost in the sound of rain. “Exactly my point. I’m days out from here, and another to Ferrowbrooke. I’ve only made the trip twice. Hardly enough time to pick up on the local chatter.”

“Oh.”

He shifts to giving him a curious look. “What kind of reputation could you have that would make an entire town wary of you, anyway?” He narrows his eyes but smiles through it. “You aren’t a murderer who feeds his herb garden on the victims, are you?"

An incredulous burst of laughter jumps from Dream’s throat. “What? No! Where did you get that from?”

He turns up his nose with a teasing, satisfied smirk. “Only my excellent intuition, of course.”

“And I suppose that intuiting gives you all the answers?”

He laughs. “Like a psychic.”

As it turns out, George is easy to talk to. Dream likes the company.

The conversation winds down with the emptying of their mugs, soft chamomile lulling them to drowsiness.

George curls up like a cat on the sofa, already buried in a blanket that Dream grabbed for him earlier.

Dream retreats to his room and bed. It had been a good evening.

As he lays awake and stares at the uneven ceiling, he realizes that the conversation he had with George was the most he laughed in recent memory.

What a curious feeling.

… …

As expected, George is up early the following day to leave for the festival. His scant bags are buckled up tight and placed in preparation by the door.

George swallows his last bite of muffin, swinging his legs from where he sat on the counter. “Thank you again for letting me in last night. I don’t know what I would’ve done otherwise.”

Dream waves him off with the hand that isn’t holding a blueberry muffin of his own. “Seriously, you don’t have to thank me. It’s just what I do.”

George shakes his head. “Alright, whatever. I’m still thanking you in my mind.”

He hops down and tosses the paper wrapper in the waste bin. “I still can’t believe you’ve never been to Ferrowbrooke, not even for a festival. Are you a hermit or something?” Without waiting for an answer, he glides out of the kitchen towards the door.

“No, no, it’s not like that,” Dream sputters, trailing behind him. “Trust me, I’d like to go, but…”

George glances back at him with a raised eyebrow. “But?”

Dream shakes his head. “Nothing. I don’t think you’d get it.”

George hefts his pack—still damp in a few spots, but better than before—onto his shoulders. “Try me. I bet I’ve heard weirder.”

He shuffles awkwardly. “It’s. Complicated. Because I just…”

“Dream, you don’t have to tell me anything. But whatever it is, I—”

“I’m a witch.”

And there it is, in its shadowy glory. The secrets spill out of him: If you have a problem that no one could solve, an ailment that the local doctors couldn’t treat, you go to The Witch. But don’t tell anyone you did—magic simply isn’t proper. Consorting with him was bad enough luck, but talking about it? No, they simply couldn’t. He understands, right? It wasn’t anything personal.

Dream rubs at his eyes. “I couldn’t take the quiet and the shame anymore, so I left. I haven’t gone outside my territory for more than essential supplies in almost five years.”

George sets his mouth in a hard line, and Dream’s blood goes cold. Was this a mistake?

“Well,” the near-stranger in his foyer says. “All that does is make me want to take you to the festival more.”

…What?

“What?” he asks.

George scoffs, slipping his pack off and dropping it back to the floor. He spins on his heel and hurries deeper into the cottage. “Don’t ‘what’ me. You need to get out of here. Do you have any luggage?”

Once again, Dream finds himself stammering and trailing helplessly behind this spitfire of a man. “Were you even listening? I’m a witch. I can’t just waltz into a new town and expect everything to be sunshine and smiles!”

George opens the door to his linen closet (not where Dream keeps his travel bags) and harrumphs at him. “I was listening just fine, and I heard you tell me that you haven’t been around people since you were seventeen.” This gives him pause. “You were only seventeen.”

He runs a hand down his face. “Bless the spirits, I can hardly fathom that.”

Dream grumbles at him. “What else was I supposed to do? I’m still”—he pokes George in the chest—"A witch. I don’t know why you don’t seem to care, but everyone else does.”

George shakes his head with a bitter look. “I don’t know how you do things around these parts, but in Wickerfield and Ferrowbrooke, witches are respected.”

Dream blinks. Again, what?

Heedless of the internal conflict he just caused, George barrels on. “The friends I mentioned before, Bad and Sapnap—They’re both witches. And everything is fine for them; they’re respected by the townsfolk and live happy lives.”

And again for the third time:

“What?”

“How about this:” George holds his hand to shake. “I take you to the festivals and get you some magnolia tarts to pay you back for rescuing me. Then we’d be even, so you're practically doing me a favor by agreeing.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t really call that rescuing, anyone would have—”

George gives him a dead stare.

Dream swallows his nerves. “And if things go poorly?”

“Simple: I’ll fight them.”

With his slight frame and admittedly unimpressive stature, Dream can’t help himself from snorting at that. George rolls his eyes and waggles his outstretched hand.

“Well? My arm isn’t getting any less tired, here.”

Dream’s never been as far as Ferrowbrooke… And George did say his friends were witches…He reaches forward to complete the handshake. “Okay, I’ll—I’ll try.”

George beams at him, and a piece of Dream is certain he made the right call.

[hypersonicxd-blog]

Obey

You stumble through the compound door clumsily, smashing into the cold arch of the doorway. "Sorry" You mutter looking back to check the arch was okay, you hesitate, shaking your head trying to clear the fog mixing in your brain. You have just got back from a mission; the only problem being you couldn't remember the mission; well the end of it. You walked into the mission room, finding your teammates sat around the oval table.

You gulp as you stand in the doorway, breath hitching in your throat. "Shut the door." Your boss snaps, you gulp obeying immediately. You freeze in place, scared for the debrief to begin. "Sit down." Fury orders again, already tired of your shit. You drop in your place automatically sitting where you were stood. You register a snicker from Tony.

"Don't be a smart ass Agent Hale, get your ass up." Again your body shoots up before your brain has the chance to process the command. "Take a seat." Fury orders again, this time pointing to a vacant seat between Steve and Bucky. You body obeys, rushing over and sitting in the seat, Steve shoots you a caring glance, worry in his eyes. You try to nod at your best friend, but only manage to move your head a fraction. "Agent Hale, eyes front." You head snaps back to look at the director of Shield, missing the confused glance Bucky was shooting your way.

"Mission report" He snaps, growing increasingly annoyed at your behaviour. He was used to your stubbornness and sassy tones, it's why he never paired you with Tony. He couldn't cope with you both at the same time. This behaviour was odd. "Yes Sir, so we got to New York, we were fighting the Chitauri, we managed to close the portal that was allowing more ships through and now here we are." You say, recalling what you could. In reality you could not remember anything from the portal closing, to walking into the compound.

Your mind was a complete blank as you try to think about why you hadn't come back with the team. "Right, but where did you go?" He presses. A rather masculine British voice breaks through the fogginess of your mind an answer. 'When they ask, tell them you went for a pint to celebrate. You fell and knocked your head pretty bad, hence why your a bit hazy on details.'

You clear your throat and repeat the words; "I went for a pint, to celebrate. I fell and knocked my head pretty bad, hence why I'm a bit hazy on details." You say, staring at Fury. "You went for a pint?" Fury seethes the same time Bucky and Steve speak. "You mean a beer, your ain't British doll." "Shit are you okay?" You maintained your eye contact with Fury as your answered his question. "Yes I went for a pint." You turned to Steve "I'm good Capsicle." You turn your glare on Bucky. "Same thing robocop."

"You sure, Bruce should check you out." Nat voices, concern on her face. The same male voice piques in your head. 'No, tell them you're fine. It won't be good for you if they investigate further, or for the people you love.' "I'm fine, I promise the medics checked me out before I left." You lie. "I thought you said you didn't remember anything after your fall." Bucky questions, your turn slightly and shoot him a glare. "I said I was hazy of details, clean your ears out gramps." Tony laughs, clapping his hands together.

"Well that's definitely the Y/N we all know and love, so I'd say everything is fine." He makes to stand when Fury orders him to sit back down, he huffs but did as he was told. "This is not fine, Loki is still at large, we have no idea when he will strike again." You scrunch your face in confusion, before righting your face to neutral expression. 'Who the hell if the Loki?' "I will ask Heimdall to keep me updated if Loki appears anywhere within the 9 realms." Thor speaks up.

"Loki is your brother Thor, shouldn't you know him well enough to find him." Again you felt confusion flood your mind; 'Why was this the first time hearing of this man, who was supposedly Thor's brother? You tighten your lips not wanting to interrupt with a question that would draw more attention to your current predicament. 'Good girl.' The same male voice purrs in your mind, you almost gasp at the jolt the praise sends to your core, quickly schooling your reaction. You look at your hands in even more confusion. 'I will explain in dew time, my pet.'  You freeze slightly. You tune out of the conversation going on around you. 'I'm going crazy. Maybe I did really hit my head.' 'No pet, not crazy. Now focus and be a good little obedient pet, for me.'

'Yes Sir.' You tune out of your head snapping your attention back to the room, the conversation coming too a close with the dismissal of the agents. You make to stand and leave, when Fury's voice calls you back. Telling you to sit back down, he wasn't done with you yet. Steve gives your shoulder a squeeze on his way out, leaning into your ear.

"I'll come find you later, don't sass him. It will only make it worse." You nod as he stands and pats your shoulder once more before leaving the room. You turn your full attention back to your boss and settle in for your lecture.

~

A hour later you leave the briefing room, huffing to yourself. 'An hour of your day wasted, just great.' The fogginess in your head has simmered into a dull cloud allowing clearness to peak through like sunshine in an over cast sky. 'Not a waste pet, I now know exactly how much they know about me.' You smile to yourself, happy to please the mysterious voice.

'So I did good, sir?'

'Yes pet, I'm very proud. Now I have some business to attend to so I won't be in your head as such for a while. Do you remember the rule kitten?'

'Yes Sir, I am to obey my teammates, so they do not question me. I need to be believable, keep them happy and keep our interaction a secret.'

'Good girl,' the voice purrs. You preen again at the praise and rub your thighs together as you walk. You're looking down as the fogginess starts to once again cloud your mind, your body bumps into something again. "Sorry" You mutter expecting to see another door frame, instead your eyes fall on Bucky. "Did you just apologise to me?" He smirks, you roll your eyes at him and shove past him. "Wait." He orders, your body freezing without your consent. You glare at the floor, trying to figure out why you couldn't move. "Apologise, you just slammed into me, twice." He says smugly, taunting you. "Sorry for slamming into you, twice." His eyes widen slightly.

"Wow, I didn't actually think you would." Bucky pauses. "You must have really hit your head doll." He laughs. "Don't call me that." You snap angrily, he glares at you a smirk playing on his lips still. "Oh I'll call you whatever I want, got that?"

"Yes Sir." You hear James' breath hitch, but he doesn't say anything. "Can I go now?" You huff, as you watch confusion flush his face, but he still doesn't respond. As if trying to figure something out. "Please Sir?" You ask impatiently. You just wanna go vent to Steve and then have a bath. "You can go." He pauses as your feet lift to storm off. "After you've given me a kiss doll." He teases, testing his theory. Your body obeys without your brain obeying, you approach Barnes before leaning and placing your lips on his and kissing him. His metal hand reaches and wraps through your hair, pulling you closer.

 After a few seconds, he pulls back smirking. "This is going to be fun, doll." He releases you and walks away, calling over his shoulder. "You can go now Kitten." You walk off confused. Why had you just kissed Barnes, you hated him and he hated you. Or at least that's what you thought. You shake your head and storm off in the direction of Steve's room. You reach his room and walk in without knocking, your eyes scan the room finding no sign of Steve. You sigh and head over to his bed, flopping onto it and laying on your back.

'Why on earth did Barnes want me to kiss him? Why did I kiss him? Why did I not just flip him off and leave? Did I want to kis -' You're pulled from your thoughts by Steve walking into the room. "Of course, help yourself to my bed." Steve groans, as he approaches the bed, joining you. You turn to face him and take in his appearance, beads of water rest on his chest, dripping down his sides as he lays next to you. Your eyes travel further down his body taking in how the towel is wrapped around him, how it parts slightly at the legs.

'Damn, what I'd give for that towel to just fall open.' You sigh, rolling your eyes at yourself. You force yourself back onto your back, looking at the ceiling. 'Keep your legs crossed.' "Did Fury give you a hard time?" Steve asks, turning to face you. "Of course he did, guy needs to remove the lead pipe from his ass, may be a little bit more tolerable then." You admit. "And did you sass him?" He asks, looking at you intently. You turn yourself to him once again, keeping your eyes on his face.

"No Captain, I was well behaved." You mock as you prop yourself up on your arm. "Good girl" Steve teases. You bite your lip as your core throbs. 'What is wrong with me?' Your clench your thighs slightly as your core throbs for a second time, you whimper softly as you feel the wetness pooling in your panties. Steve notices your thighs clenching and moves his gaze down, you follow his eye line and see his towel has fell open, from lying on his side. You gasp as you see the angry looking head of his erection. A drop of precum hangs from the tip, tempting you to taste.

You rub your thighs together, trying to get some much needed friction. "Like what you see baby?" Steve asks, a smirk on his face. You choose not to answer, instead closing your eyes to try and calm yourself. "Don't ignore me." He growls, gripping your face. "Sorry Captain" You start, he tightens his hold on your chin. "Answer my question." He demands, mischief in his eyes.

"I like what I see." You moan as your core throbs, releasing more slick. "Show me how much you like it babygirl." He orders, releasing your face. Before you can decide otherwise your body moves off the bed, till your kneeling in front on Steve. He perches himself on his elbows, giving you his full attention.

"Well..." He pushes. Your hand reaches up, unwrapping the towel from his body, you groan as you clench around nothing. Your finger wrap around his member, your fingers not meeting due to his girth. Your hand rubs up over the tip softly causing Steve to buck his hips into your fist. You use his precum to ease the slide of your hand. "Fuck Y/N." You tighten your fist slightly, rotating your hand on the upstroke.

"Fuck, use your mouth and get it nice and wet for me." Steve purrs as he watches you. You lean forward and capture the tip in your mouth, laving over the head before moving your lips down his shaft. You begin to bob your head up and down in addition to your hand movements. "Fuck, I knew you'd be amazing at this with those lips of yours." Steve groans, pushing you up. "You're gunna let me fuck your face, okay?"

"Yes Captain." You obey. Steve stands up, guiding you up until your level with his crotch. "Open up for me, you slut." He hisses as he pushes forward, pressing his tip against your lips. You obey, opening your mouth for him to slot himself in, which he does. Sliding home in one thrust, his head breaches your throat and you fight to stop yourself from gagging. You place your hands on his thighs as he draws out.

"Breathe baby." He purrs, before sliding back in your mouth again, throat constricting around the head of his cock. You groan around his member as he thrusts in and out of your mouth relentlessly. "Fuck, you're too good at this" He groans as his hips speed up chasing the sweet relief.

"Hey Stev-" Bucky's voice cuts short as his eyes fall upon the scene in front of him. His blood begins to boil, anger consuming him. "What the fuck are you doing?" He screams storming over to you. Your mouth stays on Steve's shaft as he keeps his pace, too caught up in the feeling. "Y/N! Get off him." Bucky orders, your body obeys trying to pull off Steve immediately. Steve follows your face, chasing his orgasm, not caring about his best friend being there. He thrusts into your throat one last time before Bucky pulls you back. Steve groans as his hips still and his member pulses, painting your face with his release. Steve doesn't get to enjoy his climax too much as Bucky's fist soon connects with the side of his face.

"You knew! YOU FUCKING KNEW HOW I FELT ABOUT HER?! HOW THE FUCK COULD YOU DO THAT TO ME" Bucky screamed punching him once more. Steve just laughs. "She wanted it, trust me." You could see Bucky getting even angrier, before you could stop yourself you stood up placing yourself between the two super soldiers. "Bucky stop." You beg, holding your hands in a pleading motion.

He looks at you, your plump lips, covered with his best friends discretion. Your watery eyes, from being throat fucked, by someone he trusted. "Fine" He snaps at you, looking at you with venomous eyes. His gaze settles back on Steve. "You need to back the fuck off, she's mine." He hisses, grabbing your wrist and pulling you from the room. "We'll see about that" Steve's voice follows you as you're pulled towards Bucky's room.  Bucky's grip on your wrist doesn't lessen as he drags you through the compound towards his room.

He drags into his room, slamming the door behind you turning the lock into place. Before you get a chance to protest Bucky is ushering you towards the bathroom. "Strip" He commands, your fingers shake as you obey him, without question. Your body moving on its own accord. You reach up to your combat jacket and undo the zip as quick as you can, not wanting to anger or displease the super soldier in front of you. You could still fell Steve's release on your face, sliding down your neck and you shivered as your jacket slid from your arms.

Once your jacket fell to the floor you bent at the hip to untie your combat boots, before standing and toeing them off. You reach for the hem of your vest and tug it up out of your pants before bringing it over your head, trying not to tarnish is with the cum on your face. You next unbuttoned your pants, shimmying out of them. You looked at Bucky as you stood only in your black bra and black lace panties, it was the plainest set you owned. But it was still cute and you knew you looked good in it. You lock eyes with Bucky as you stand tall, proud almost. You notice the icy blue of his eyes has practically disappeared, being replaced with black. You gulp, you know that look. Had seen it aimed your way so many times. You just never thought you would be on the receiving end of that look from Bucky Barnes.

You thought he hated you, so you were very confused right now, not just about him. But Steve as well and why the hell you had obeyed to strip in front of the super soldier. You couldn't stop though and a fullness in your stomach told you, you didn't mind it as much as you thought you would. You rubbed your thighs together subconsciously. Buck smirked as he caught your action, he reached a hand down to adjust himself, groaning as his palm brushed his arousal. His action caught your attention and your gaze was drawn to his crotch. You gasped as you took in the bulge that had formed in his pants.

"If you thought Steve was big, you're in for a shock with me doll." He purrs as he motions to your bra and panties, a non verbal command you quickly rush to obey. He watches you reach behind yourself to unhook your bra and chooses to talk again. "Even better than Steve, I was always big, so the serum only made me bigger by a little. Steve's is mainly serum." He huffs a laugh, not caring that he's talking shit about Steve. He put his hands on my girl, he thought angrily. He watched intensely as your hands reach to the straps, sliding them down your arms, allowing your breasts free from their captors.

Bucky groans as he absorbs the image of your breasts greedily, eyes falling on the shining glimmer underneath your stiff nipples. "Fuck, I'd hoped you had your nipples pierced, whenever I'd look I always had a feeling you had them done from the outline." He purred as he reached to palm himself through his pants. "You've stared at my tits?" You question, hands moving to your panties. Your brain prompts you to stop, but your body doesn't let you as you hook your thumbs into the side of them, drawing them down your legs in an almost seductive manner. "Yeah doll, I 've stared as pretty much every part of you. You're just to dense to notice." You halt your movements.

"I didn't say stop, did I. Panties off." He orders as he steps forward. "I'm not dense." You snap, removing your panties and standing up, trying to cover your body slightly. "Ah don't cover up. Let me see you." He purrs stepping forwards. "And you are dense when it comes to some things doll, like seeing that you drive me absolutely fucking insane. You can't even imagine how many times I've thought about bending you over the meeting table and fucking that sass you like to spew so much out of you." He growls as he pulls you flush to him.

You startle slightly at his admission. "Bucky, please don't." You know its futile, you don't understand how you ended up here, why you'd even listened to him in the first place. "Don't what doll. I'm not doing anything." He replies, as his finger traces the curve of your breast, ghosting over your pert bud. "You're going to shower, I'm just here to make sure you clean yourself." He pauses as he pinches your nipple between his fingers. "Thoroughly, we don't want you missing a spot, now do we." He purrs as he pushed you towards the shower. He opens the door and reaches in for the switch, setting the water to a mild temperature.

He didn't want it to be too hot as he didn't plan on letting you relax to much, that and the coolness would help cool you both down. He motioned for you to step into the shower, but you hesitated, finally feeling like you had a ounce of control over your own body. "In the shower Y/N. Don't make me repeat myself. You won't like what happens." He growls the last part as he removes his t-shirt, throwing it in the corner on the floor. He smirks when you obey this time, reaching to pop the button of his pants open.

He watches you stand under the fall of water, washing away the disrespect of his so called best friend. He removes his pants and boxers in one move, before joining you quickly and crowding you against the wall. "So how is it that Steve got you on your knees for him, huh?" He pushes you as he cages you with his arms against the cold shower wall. You shiver as the cold washes over you, arching away from the wall slightly and pushing your breasts against Bucky. Your nipples run against his chest teasingly and you moan at the contact, feeling the jolt it sends to your centre.

"I don't know" You admit honestly as you shake the lustful thoughts from your mind. "I know." Bucky laughs, crowding against you further so he's flush against you, his length poking your thigh. You look at him in the eyes. "How?" You ask. He ignores you and brings his hand to your head cupping your face and bringing it to his. "Doesn't matter. But tell me something honestly. Do you like Steve?" He is face is a mere breath away from yours now, your heart pounding in your chest. 'How is Bucky Barnes of all people making me go weak in the knees.'

'Sshh Pet, I wanna see how this plays out.' The voice purrs , his tone a mixture of lust and amusement. 'Sorry Sir.' You prompt immediately, angry at yourself for disappointing the voice. 'It's okay Kitten, I know you're confused and I will explain all in dew time. Right now though I need to see more of you. I want to devour you.' The voice rasps, you gasp as Bucky grips your throat, drawing the focus back to him.

"ANSWER ME" He roars at you. You whimper slightly as your body releases another wave of slick. "Of course I like Steve, he's my best friend." You say, as you try to make yourself smaller, hoping you can disappear. "You don't just suck off your best friend doll. Me and Steve are- were best friends for 70 years and I never once sucked him off nor he me." He laughed as your face blanched. "SO I'll ask one more time doll. Do you have romantic feelings for Steve?" He demands. "No Sir. I think he is attractive and sexy, but I only see him as a best friend. I don't know why I did what I did. It's like I couldn't stop." You huff out.

'Be careful Pet, can't have you letting out my secret. You intrigue me. But don't think that will save you, if you fuck this up.' The voice warns sternly. You gulp; 'I'm sorry Master, I'll do better I promise.' You hear a dark pleased chuckle bounce through your head. 'Good girl, now give this fellow a kiss, one so passionate he drops his arms. I want you to place your front on the glass door. So I can see you better. Okay kitten?' The voice purrs.

You almost lunge forwards at Bucky trying to obey the voice, but stop yourself from crashing into him just in time, allowing a more gently touching of your lips. You put all the emotion into the kiss you could muster, lust, anger, fear, love. You kissed Bucky like your life depending on it, moaning into him as his hands wrapped around your lower back, pulling you impossibly closer to his body. Bucky's tongue probed your bottom lip, but you hesitated for a second too long, causing Bucky to reach down and pinch your ass with his vibrainium hand. You yelp into the kiss, Bucky taking this opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth.

You manage to manoeuvre yourself so that your back is flush with the glass of the door. 'Your ass would look beautiful brandishing my mark, pet.'  You moan into the kiss as your pussy throbs, a weird sensation falling over you. You moan again as you feel the sensation travel up your thigh. You feel Bucky's hands, one is cupping your breast the other is palming your ass, so what is touching your thigh. You get drawn back to Bucky as he bites your lip, creating a small cut and suckling at the blood there. He groans as his hips thrust against you, his erection rubbing against your thigh.

That explains it, you think. You feel yourself being spun around as Bucky slams your front against the door, previously warmed by your back it doesn't make you gasp, what does is the glowing emerald eyes staring back at you. 'Master?' You ask, the person smirks and nods. 'Yes Kitten, you look ravishing. I bet you feel it too. Shame this oaf is going to get you, before I do.' He purrs. You freeze slightly at the implication Loki just told you. Now he's in front of you, you recognize the black haired god. The one you were supposed to take down on the earlier mission. 'Hold on you're Thor's brother?'

'Adopted brother, but yes Kitten. Now shush and enjoy this.'  You stare at Loki in confusion, but don't ask any further questions as instructed you shush and enjoy the sensation of Bucky rubbing soap onto your shoulders and back. "Gotta get you all clean, pretend you and Steve never happened. Mine." Bucky says to himself as he kneels and begins working on your legs. You feel the phantom sensation again on the vee of your pussy, it feels like fingers trailing along the skin. You gasp as you feel a long, thin finger brush through your folds.

You look up at the man on the other side of the glass, noticing the green swirling around his hand as he makes circular motions. You moan as the phantom fingers circle your bud, applying just the right pressure to bring you so close to the edge. Bucky works on scrubbing your knees, moving to your thighs, as another phantom hand joins the mix, two long fingers thrusting deep into your centre, you arch your body. You hear Bucky groan as you all but shove your ass in his face, he teasingly nips at your check. "Patience doll." He teases as he rubs soft motions on the inside of your thighs.

'Poor guy has no idea you're about to cum, does he. I was gunna just watch.'  The voice paused as the thrusting fingers sped up and the fingers circling your clit  increased speed and pressure. 'But I decided I want to be the one who makes you cum first tonight Kitten.' He smirks as he locks eyes with your through the slightly foggy glass. You bite your lip as your legs begin to shake. Bucky moves from your thighs, standing flush against you, his erection slips between your thighs, rubbing along your folds. Pushing the phantom fingers impossibly deeper.

'Be a good girl and cum for your master.' Loki maintains eyes contact with you as Bucky's hands grope your breasts toying with your nipples. The extra stimulation sends you over the edge as you gush over the phantom hands and Bucky's length, you bite your lip to keep in your cry of ecstasy. 'Good girl Kitten, shame I had to waste my seed on a rag though. You would look delectable round with my child.' Loki purrs. "Did you just cum?" Bucky asks confusion evident in his tone. You don't answer, but whimper in reply. "Words doll, use them." Bucky spins you around to face him, seeing the flush of red on your face, already answering his question.

"Yeah I just came, I'm sorry." You begin, before Bucky crashes his lips to yours in a searing kiss. "Don't apologise babydoll, that was so fucking hot. You squirted untouched as I played with your nipples. Fuck. I was gunna wait but I need you now." He lifts you up so you wrap your legs around his hips, his length resting against your entrance. "Tell me you need me, tell me you want me." He begs, knowing you'll do what he says. He knows he shouldn't be taking advantage of you, but he's past caring. "I want you Bucky.." You say as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. "I need you Bucky." You pant in his ear, he thrusts into you as hears the final word leaving your mouth. He slams into you, groaning into your neck as your tight channel grips his cock.

"So tight for me baby girl." He purrs as he begins a brutal pace of thrusting in and out your wet walls. "Do you feel that baby, feel how your walls cling to me. How you fit me like a... " Bucky groans as he feels you clench around him, your orgasm fast approaching. "Like a fucking glove. Fuck. I'm gunna cum. Got me so worked up by squirting on my cock. My little cock slut. All mine." He growls as you whimper, nails digging into his back. "You gunna cum again baby? Gunna cum all over my cock, milk my cock so you can be filled with my cum?"

You moan as you capture Buckys lips. "You like that? Wanna be my cum slut?" He growls as his pace slams into you, probably leaving bruises on your ass from how hard his thighs are slamming into it. "CUM" He demands as his cock twitches inside of you, his thick release coating your insides. Your body obeys him as you seize and your orgasm floods you, drowning you in euphoria. You feel your vision start to blur, as your eyes fading to black.