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scoonsalicious · 11 hours

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8.2 Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of sexual situations, mostly this is just fluff.

Word Count: 2.7k

Previously On...: You had a nightmare/memory of your time in Afghanistan.

A/N: It's really nice out. I'm writing outside today, lol.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Bucky slowly came into consciousness to the sensation of small hands running up and down his chest. Blinking his eyes open, he grinned when he saw Major leaning over him, tracing her fingers along the planes of his muscles.

“Morning,” she said, smiling down at him, her long hair hanging around her face like curtains.

“Mornin’, doll,” he replied, voice rough with sleep. “You been up long?”

She hummed, running her fingers up along both sides of his collarbone and back down again. “No,” she said. “Maybe ten minutes?” She shrugged. “I was planning on letting you sleep for a while longer, but you looked so pretty, couldn’t stop myself from touching you.”

He gripped one of her wrists in his hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her pulse point. “Glad you didn’t, sugar,” he said, nuzzling her hand to his cheek. “Cause lookin’ at you’s better than any dream I coulda been havin’.”

Major playfully pinched his cheek as she rolled her eyes at him. “What did I tell you about your sweet talk, Sergeant?” she said.

Bucky pretended to think about it for a moment. “Um…,” he mused, tapping his chin with a forefinger, “that there was nothing you could do to stop me from doin’ it? Even if I already did have you right where I wanted you?”

She laughed, and Bucky loved the way the morning light caught the natural highlights of her hair.

“What should we do today?” he asked, sitting up so he was propped against his headboard and pulling her into his lap. He leaned down to kiss her shoulder where the collar of his too-big shirt had left it exposed.

“Breakfast, at some point,” Major said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Bucky nodded, his hands tracing up and down her sides. “Obviously.”

“Maybe you could show me around this fancy compound of yours,” she suggested, playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Mmm,” Bucky said, sliding a hand up under the hem of his shirt she wore to rest it on her hip. “Sounds like a plan. What else?”

“Take me for another ride on your motorcycle?” she offered.

“I’d like to take you for another ride on something, sugar,” he teased, playfully nipping at the delicate skin of her neck.

“Bucky,” Major chastised, pulling back to look him in the eyes with a smile. “If you wanted to just stay in bed and have sex all day, you could have just said so.”

“I want to stay in bed and have sex all day.,” he deadpanned, trying to fight his grin.

Major scoffed and rolled her eyes. “It’s like you only want me for one thing, Sergeant.”

Bucky felt his entire body stiffen at the accusation, and he sat up straighter. “Sugar– Major, no! Of course not! I–”

She started laughing and gently swatted his chest. “Relax, Bucky; I was kidding. I absolutely do not mind having all the sex with you. I don’t know if you’re aware of this or not, but you’re actually quite good at it.”

He let out a breath in relief, but something still didn’t sit right with him. Yes, since meeting Major just four days ago, they had fucked. A lot. But he wanted more from her than that. He wanted to give her more than that.

“I think I’m about to say something really stupid,” Bucky said slowly, hoping he was making the right call.

Major raised an eyebrow. “Okay,” she said, dragging the word out. “I’m proud of you for being able to recognize that beforehand, I guess?”

Bucky’s lips puckered disapprovingly. “Smartass,” he said. Major just laughed and pressed her forehead into the crook of his shoulder, letting him continue. “I think we should stop having sex.”

She pulled back, the look on her face full of such shock and disappointment that it was Bucky’s turn to laugh at her. “You can’t be serious!” she exclaimed.

“I’m not saying, you know, forever,” he said, running his hands up and down her arms to console her. “Or even long-term. Just for, like, a little while.”

“But, why?” Major whined, sounding like a child who was told she couldn’t have ice cream after dinner. “I thought you liked it.”

“Oh, sugar,” Bucky said, pulling her close again, “I fucking love it. I just want us to be more than that, you know? I don’t ever want you to think that that’s all I want from you.”

“Bucky, I was just joking around. I know that’s not–”

“I want us to last, Major,” Bucky interrupted her to confess. “I want us to last a good, long time. And if we’re gonna do that, we have to have more than just fucking between us. I want to know everything about you. And I want you to know everything about me. Hell, I wanna be everything you need. I want this to be real, and strong, and to have all kinds of intimacy with you beyond just physical stuff. It’s not that I don’t fucking love fucking you–” he smiled when she snorted at his phrasing– “it’s just that I don’t want that to be the only thing I love about you.”

He hoped she understood what he was trying to say without him actually having to say it: He wanted to fall in love with her– more than anything he had ever wanted in his entire existence. He was more than halfway there already, if he was being honest with himself, but he was suddenly afraid that if they didn’t slow things down between them, if they didn’t take the time to get to know more than just each other’s bodies, they were going to fizzle out before they could truly shine together.

Major’s eyes were wide and glossy as she studied his face. Bucky held his breath as she took in what he had said, knowing in his heart that if she didn’t agree, if she only wanted him for sex and nothing else, he’d cave in a heartbeat, just to keep her close.

“Okay,” she said softly. “I want that, too, so, okay.”

Bucky let out the breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. “Thank fuck,” he said, bringing his lips to hers for a kiss.

“Now, when you say ‘no sex,’” Major began, “are you talking ‘no penetration,’ or can we still–”

“Neither one of us gets to use any part of our bodies to get the other one off,” Bucky said resolutely.

Major frowned at his declaration, and the sight was so alluring that Bucky was instantly second guessing himself. “That just seems unnecessarily cruel, Sarge,” she pouted.

Damn it, he thought, it did seem unnecessarily cruel. He was already caving, and it had barely been a few minutes!

“I know, sugar, I know. But I think we’ll be better for it.” He really did. He just had to keep reminding himself of that.

Major’s pout deepened. “I know,” she said. “Logically, it makes sense.” She sighed. “How long?”

“In all honesty,” Bucky said with a chuckle, “I haven’t really thought that far ahead. A couple of weeks? At least until after I’ve taken you out on a few more proper dates. Treat you right, you know?”

She threw her head back overdramatically. “A couple weeks?!” she cried. “How am I supposed to function without that good dick, Bucky?”

“Well, now you’re just being theatrical, doll,” Bucky smiled.

“Fun fact,” Major said, “I did theater all four years in high school. I even got to play Sarah in our production of Guys and Dolls my senior year.”

Bucky smiled. “Well, I don’t know what that is, doll, but see! That’s something I wouldn’t have learned about you if we were having sex right now!”

Major’s laugh was rich, and it made Bucky think of hot chocolate on a winter’s day. Of a kiss on a scraped knee. “Fair enough,” she told him. “But it’s a crime that you don’t know what Guys and Dolls is.”

“So, that’s what we’ll do today, then,” Bucky said. “Show me this Guys and Dolls, doll.” He chuckled, amused with himself.

Major rolled her eyes good naturedly. “I’m going to need some breakfast, first,” she told him, getting off his lap and the bed. She raised her arms over her head in an elongated stretch, and Bucky couldn’t help but admire the way his shirt crept up her thighs, showing more and more of her tantalizing skin until--

No, he had to remind himself. They were going to be putting a temporary moratorium on that kind of thinking. God, this was going to be so much harder than he thought it would be.

He and Major took a shower together, and while there was an excessive amount of touching, they managed to keep it relatively tame. Afterwards, Bucky offered Major another of his shirts to wear, but she paused as she was collecting the rest of her clothes from where they’d scattered them across his room the night before.

“So, Bucky,” she said, her voice sounding confused, “really weird question, but do you happen to have my panties in your possession, by any chance?”

Bucky paused in the middle of toweling off his hair and looked up at her. “What?” he asked, thinking he must have heard her incorrectly.

“My underwear,” Major clarified. “I can’t find my underwear.”

Bucky snorted a laugh. “They’ve gotta be here somewhere, sugar,” he said, walking over to where she stood to help her look. “It’s not like I have a lot of stuff for them to hide behind.”

For the next few minutes, they searched the room, but they came up empty again and again.

“You don’t remember where you might have tossed them when you took them off last night?” he asked her.

Major looked at him. “You took them off me last night,” she said. “When you took off my shorts, you pulled them off, too.”

Bucky thought back to the previous evening. They’d been in a rush to get each other’s clothes off, but he was fairly confident he’d only removed her shorts. “Did…” he paused, the question he was about to pose making him a little shy. “Did you forget to put them back on before we left the woods?”

Major’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh my god,” she said, trying to suppress a giggle. “I honestly don’t know! It was dark and I don’t remember! Oh, shit! Bucky!” She was trying so hard now not to laugh. “Did I leave my soaked panties in a fucking public park?!”

“That’s pretty deviant of you, doll,” he laughed. Major playfully swatted his chest.

“It’s your fault!” she exclaimed.

“My fault?” Bucky was faux-affronted. “How was it my fault you forgot your knickers?”

“You just had to make that comment about imagining me in only the dog tags,” she chastised. “You knew exactly where that would lead.”

Bucky couldn’t fault her logic there. “Fair enough, sugar,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “I take full responsibility.”

“And now you’re going to have to live with the knowledge that I’m going to be walking around all day without any panties on, and there’s not a damned thing you can do about it, because you had to go and decide we shouldn’t have sex anymore.”

Bucky groaned. “Ugh, the me of an hour and a half ago was a moron. Remind me again why I thought that was a good idea?” he begged her.

“Nope,” Major said. “That’s a hole you dug for yourself. Now you have to lie in it.”

“Lie in it with me?” he asked, putting his most charming smile on display for her.

She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. “Only if you keep your hands to yourself.”

To Bucky’s surprise, the rest of their day together went by in a flash, and he had a great time with Major– even if they both had kept all of their clothes on. He’d taken her on his bike to get a late breakfast at Melinda’s, and while Major had excused herself to the restroom, Mya had approached him.

“I like this one for you, Bucky,” she’d said with a knowing grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile so wide before.

After breakfast, they returned to the compound, and Bucky had given Major a tour, showing her all the amenities the facility had to offer, though he avoided the building where the new SHIELD recruits did their training. He brought her down to the shooting range, and the two spent a couple of entertaining hours together in the simulator, running practice combat drills. When Bucky watched Major hit every single one of her targets, it was all he could do to not throw his “no more sex” rule right out the window.

They had lunch with Sam and Steve, and Bucky thought he was going to die from embarrassment at all the things they were telling Major about him. When he said he had wanted her to know everything about him, he wasn’t thinking about that time in eighth grade when he’d asked Dolores Carmichael to be his girlfriend and she told the whole class he was a terrible kisser. But Steve, apparently, thought it was vital information.

“You’ve either improved tremendously since then,” Major had said with a laugh, “or old Dolores had impossible standards.”

When they’d finished exploring the compound, they went back to Bucky’s room and Major introduced him to the world of Guys and Dolls on Prime Video. The movie was nearly as old as he was– 1955, she’d said, and he appreciated it, though he found the entire thing ridiculous. But Major loved it, and he loved watching her love it, and that was good enough for him.

Before he knew it, the afternoon was waning into early evening, and it was time for him to take Major back to Langston Park for her to get her truck and head home. He found himself driving his bike a lot slower to get there than he normally would have, savoring the feeling of her hands gripped around his waist.

When they arrived at the parking lot, Major hopped off the bike and took off the extra helmet he’d given her. “Thank you for today,” she said, leaning in to kiss him. “I had a great time, even without having sex with you.”

Bucky laughed and pulled her close for a hug. “Speaking of,” he said, “you wanna run into the woods and go looking for your panties real quick?”

Major tossed her head back and groaned. “Ugh, no!” she said. “I’m too mortified! They belong to the forest now. They've probably gone wild.”

Bucky chuckled, but soon his expression turned serious. “When can I see you again?” he asked. If it were up to him, she’d never be out of his sight.

“Whenever you want, Sergeant,” she told him, her voice an almost-purr. “You know where I live.”

“Dinner tomorrow?” he asked hopefully.

“I’d like that,” she replied.

Bucky brought his lips to hers, and for a moment, they stayed there, kissing languidly. Eventually, though, Major pulled away. “Alright,” she said begrudgingly, “I better go now before I lose my resolve to leave at all.” Reaching over the bed of her truck, she tossed Bucky the shirt he had worn the night before and had left there to dry overnight.

Bucky watched as Major got into her truck and rolled down the window before backing up. “Let me know when you get home safe, yeah?” he asked.

“Yes, mom,” Major said, but he could tell from the glint in her eye that his concern touched her.

He watched as she drove away, sticking a hand out the window to wave a final farewell before rounding the corner and disappearing from sight. Just as Bucky was about to re-mount his bike to head back to the Compound, his phone pinged with a text.

He smiled to himself. Was Major missing him that much already?

But, no– the text wasn’t from Major at all.

Lily: We need to have a conversation about you standing me up last night.

Bucky swallowed.

Well, shit.

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annwrites · 2 days

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you need a hand with that, baby?

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: ficlet

— summary: hurt from billy's constant hot & cold behavior toward you, you begin to pull away from him. refusing to lose you, he offers to open up to you, but only on his terms. he then wakes in the middle of the night to an unexpected sight beside him.

— tags: billy actually opening up and discussing his past and feelings toward you, at least a bit. angst.

— tw: drinking, childhood trauma, masturbation, fingering, handjob

— word count: 7,132

— a/n: oh yeah, it's all coming together. pun maybe intended.

find my other posts concerning billy here

When you enter the motel room—your hands full of a selection of things the motel was serving for breakfast—it’s to Billy falling over himself, trying to quickly pull on a pair of jeans, quietly cursing to himself.

And then he barely glances up to you as he finally yanks the zipper up. “There you are. Where the hell have you been?” He looks at you. “Do you have any idea how wor-”

A smile slowly forms on his lips, cutting short the lecture he was about to bestow upon you about never leaving his eyesight ever again unless you wanted to see him pissed...also again.

He settles his hands on his hips—still shirtless—giving you a long look-over before stepping closer and reaching up, twirling a teased curl around his finger.

“Thought you stopped doing your hair like this weeks ago, doll?”

You shrug, setting the food down on the table, sitting. “I just wanted to try it out again.”

He sits, not bothering with a shirt for the moment being, and watches as you take a bite of a pastry, your eyes flitting to his chest for only a moment, before looking down to the buffet of food before you, cheeks warming.

He leans back, biting into an apple. “Really going to sit there and pretend like it has nothing to do with trying to impress me, honey?”

You glance up to him with furrowed brows, pouring a small bottle of milk into a paper bowl full of cereal. “Why would I want to do that?”

Each day he’s spent with you has made him more bold in his advances, even minimally, and today is no different. He finally just throws it out there. “I see the way you look at me. Especially when I’m like this. Half-dressed, or less. Or working on the Camaro. If you want to keep playing hard-to-get, sweetheart, we still have plenty days of driving before us, so we can play that game. Just know you won’t win.” He leans toward you, eyes boring into your own. “I will get what I’ve been waiting patiently for weeks for.”

You stop chewing, suddenly swallowing. You don’t want to admit you’d spent the better part of an hour teasing your hair and using so much Aquanet you’d nearly finished off the entire can until it was perfect just to see his reaction. But he could see right through you.

You were tiring of this game to an extent—you pretending like you felt nothing toward him than annoyance, and him making sexual advances toward you every day.

It all amounted to nothing.

Maybe sometimes it did feel a bit exciting to be desired by another, but it wasn’t about you with him. It was about what you were: a collection of body parts for him to play with. He’d all but thrown as much in your face two nights ago. What was it he had said about you being just another pair of lips?

You suddenly regret doing your hair.

Maybe you have been leading him on a bit lately. You hadn’t intended to. You’d done your utmost to ignore him in Hawkins—he was the one who refused to leave you alone. And being on the road together…it’d simply been about getting from point a to point b. Now…you tell yourself that’s still all it is. Both of you leaving behind nightmares to find new dreams out West.

Once you reach California, you’ll both go separate ways and never see one another ever again. Because that’s what people do: they leave.

You look back down to your food, stirring your now-soggy cereal, mood dampened. And Billy notices your sudden shift in mood, wondering what the fuck just happened.

You stand, throwing your food away. “I’m not hungry anymore,” you state, picking up your chair and going to sit by the window.

He rolls his eyes. Women and their damn mood swings. “You on your rag or somethin’?”

Your head jerks back toward him. “What?”

“You’re sure as hell acting like it.”

You don’t bother arguing as you turn back to the window. “No.”

He takes a few more bites of his apple, watching you. He chooses to change the subject. “So, what’re we drinking tonight?”

You’d forgotten about that… You look back to him. “Can you even buy alcohol?”

He smirks. “I have a fake, honey.”

You raise a brow, not entirely surprised. “You do?”

He pulls his wallet from his back pocket, slipping the card out and tossing it to you.

You pick it up off the floor and look it over. ‘Billy Squier’, really? You look at him and he has a smirk on his face.

“What, don’t tell me you don’t get the name?”

You walk it back over to him, extending the plastic card toward him. “You must’ve thought it was terribly clever, since you both share the same first name.”

He considers you for a moment, grabbing the card, tossing it onto the table, then yanking on your hand, pulling you into his lap.

You immediately try to stand up, but his arm wraps around your waist, holding you against him.

“Let go!”

He holds a piece of bacon up to your face. “Not until you’ve eaten something.”

You snub your nose at the offered food, so he just holds it closer. “I have no problem hand-feeding you, princess.”

You sigh dramatically and he uses that opportunity to shove the food into your mouth.

Once you’ve finished chewing do you try getting up again.

“You can get up just as soon as you tell me what the fuck that was a minute ago.”

You roll your eyes. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do,” he says casually, taking a bite of the pastry you hadn’t finished.

Feeling your temper growing shorter, you let him have it as you turn the least bit more back toward him so you can look at him. “Stop pretending like you give a damn about me. We both know what this is. That as soon as we get to California, we’re both going our separate ways. Nothing you do is going to change the fact that I refuse to fuck you before then.”

His jaw feathers. He knows you’re not trying to make him angry. You’re just hurt yourself from his vulgar behavior—his being hot and cold toward you. He decides he does not like the taste of his own medicine. You’d tried to connect with him more than once now, had tried to get him to open up like you had with him, but he’d shut it down at every turn.

You were clearly beginning to grow tired of it. He doesn’t entirely blame you. When was the last time you’d had someone show the least bit of concern for you? Even his step-mom, at times, had tried to show him some kindness.

He reaches up and gently tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. “I’m nothing if not a man of my word, baby. I told you that you were stuck with me. I meant that. So I’ll wait for however long you want to keep holding out for. You take that to mean whatever you want it to.”

Your brows furrow and your hands come to rest atop his arm. “I… You…” You have no idea what you even want to say.

He holds another pastry up to you. “Muffin?”

Once breakfast was through—Billy refusing to let you off of his lap for the next hour; he’d taken his time eating and hadn’t tried to fight against the erection your constant squirming had caused, even if you’d ceased the moment you’d felt it—the two of you had gotten into his car and driven around town aimlessly, just sight-seeing, even if there wasn’t much to see here in the first place.

Some small Oklahoma town had to be one of the worst places to be stranded. He’d mused to himself that there was a reason it was known as a fly-over state.

You’d stayed mostly silent, even as he’d obnoxiously blared his rock music, trying to get your attention.

He could feel your interest—attentions—toward him beginning to wane, and it was an unsettling feeling. So, he’d, at every red light and stop and yield sign, reached over and touched you. You thought it’d been just to get under your skin. For him, it was just a reminder that you were still there beside him.

Once lunch time hit, he’d pulled into a family-owned diner, and even bothered holding your hand as the two of you went inside. You’d tried to tug away, but he’d held firm, twining his fingers between yours.

Once the two of you were eating—you refusing to even look in his direction, but instead watching the view outside the window at your side—he’d tapped your foot under the table and you’d rolled your eyes, pulling your leg back toward you.

He’d sighed then. “Your hair looks nice, since I never told you. I was right: it makes you look hot.”

“Thanks.”

He’d frowned. “Fine. Since it’s clearly what you’re after—five questions. That’s all you get. So, ask whatever you want and I’ll answer.”

You’d looked to him in surprise. Shocked he was offering such a thing. You were sure he’d never bother to open up. Or, if he did, it would be only when he was ready and deigned to divulge bits and pieces of himself and his life to you here and there. But putting you in control of what he was to share? You weren’t sure what to make of that.

You sit back, idly stabbing at your garden salad. You look up to him then, expression serious. “Why did you pick on me so much back in Hawkins?”

He raises a brow, forearms resting atop the table. “Why do you think?” He gestures as if the answer should be obvious.

You look back down and shift, and you suddenly seem uncomfortable to him.

“I… I thought that… Maybe…” You look out the window and a pained look seeps into your eyes. He reaches over, having no idea why the fuck he’s doing it, and takes one of your hands in his.

You look at him again. You let out a shaky breath, your hand trembling slightly in his firm grip. “Maybe something was wrong with me. I mean…my dad and the way he treated me. And then you show up and…” You swallow thickly.

That’s what you’d thought the last two months? That he’d been giving getting on your last nerve his every effort because what? You just attracted that kind of treatment—cruelty? Especially from men?

You’re now staring intently down at the table, lost in thought, like you’re somewhere else.

“Angel, look at me.”

You do, hesitantly. “You think I acted that way because I didn’t like you?”

You nod, hand shaking harder.

He leans in toward you. “It’s the very opposite. You should know that by now, honey.”

You blink at him. “You don’t actually like me, though.”

He raises a brow again. “Reading my thoughts now?”

“It’s…” You stop yourself short, pulling your hand back, settling it in your lap. You didn’t want to say this. Didn’t want to let on that you, at the very least, thought you felt something more toward him. Not when you knew how he thought of you. You never meant more toward anyone—they just did for you. Because you were always stupid enough to get attached.

“Go on.”

You clasp your shaking hands together. Opening up…you’d never been able to do that before. Had wanted to. With someone—anyone. But even just crying in front of your dad… That was an excellent way to get hit.

Your heart-rate quickens. You can’t do this. He’ll get angry, too. Just like the other night when he put his fist through a wall.

No man was a safe place for you.

“I don’t remember now.”

He stands then, sitting beside you, pressing his body against yours, arm behind you. “Talk to me, sweetheart,” he says lowly, cupping your cheek in his other hand.

You shake your head, your body trembling in fear.

He leans down toward you. “Please.”

You look at him, blinking back tears and his heart fucking breaks.

“What if you get mad at me?” You ask, voice breaking on the last word.

“I won’t.”

You open your mouth to speak, until the waitress interrupts the both of you with the check.

Billy lets out a low swear, snatching it from her.

When he looks back to you, the moment is gone. You having withdrawn further away from him.

It seems he’s not the only one with difficulties sharing parts of himself.

He presses a soft kiss to your cheek and you whimper. He pulls back, and you still don’t look at him.

After lunch, Billy pulls into a gas station. Getting you drunk probably isn’t the best idea right now, but it’s the only way he’s going to get you to talk—get himself to, even.

So he heads inside, purchases a bottle of Crown Royal, and then comes back out, handing it to you.

You look it over for a moment, then look at him. “This is a stupid idea.”

He shrugs. “We made a deal, sweetheart. Don’t tell me you’re backing out now.”

You look back down at the bottle. “I only do stupid stuff when I’m with you.”

He smirks. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Once the two of you are locked in your motel room, you sit on the bed—him leaned back against the headboard, and you at the foot of it facing him.

“So…what do we do now?” You ask nervously.

“Could always play a drinking game. Or just start chugging until one of us is shit-faced. Or…” He grows quiet for a moment, then unscrews the lid, taking a long swig. “There’s a reason they call this shit liquid courage. Drink enough and you don’t feel afraid anymore. You want to talk, then we’ll talk. But I need to get my blood-alcohol level up first,” he says, taking another long drink.

He holds the bottle out toward you and you take it from him gingerly, taking a small sip. Your face screws and he laughs.

“That’s disgusting.”

He shrugs. “It’s one of my favorites. But when it comes to booze, you don’t always drink it for the taste.”

You take another sip and it still tastes just as bad as the first time. You then feel heat pool between your legs and you flush. You look up to him and see he’s just waiting on you to make your next move. You briefly wonder if this is what alcohol does for everyone—cause this kind of reaction. And if so, if he’d really meant the ‘taking advantage of you’ comment from last night.

You take another drink, then hand it back to him.

“So, you want to continue what you were saying at the diner?” He asks, taking a sip.

You’d had so many thoughts racing through your mind afterward that you honestly couldn’t remember now.

You’d asked him about his treatment toward you. He’d insinuated that he’d done it because he liked you and…you were going to imply you felt something for him, but were worried he saw you as just a sex toy.

You have half-a-mind to feign ignorance; that you’d forgotten, but you reach for the bottle again and take a long drink, swallowing multiple times, head beginning to feel light when you lower it down to your lap.

You smile to yourself and Billy only feels mild surprise that the liquor is working so quickly on you. With him having a good bit more body weight—not to mention tolerance—it would take him a few more drinks yet.

You look up to him, caressing the glass bottle. “I think you were right.”

He raises a brow, making a beckoning motion with his finger for the bottle and you hand it to him. “Oh, yeah? What about?”

“Me being attracted to you.” Your words already sound a bit slurred.

He’s not taken aback in the slightest by your admittance. He was aware of your physical attraction awhile ago. Knew you were too, even if you didn’t want to admit it—or, rather, wanted to try and bury it.

He drinks. “Read you like a book weeks ago on that, honey.”

You balk. “Weeks?” You’d not liked him back in Hawkins. Not in the least. Not his leather jacket or stupid car or dumb smirk. Not his deep voice or pretty eyes or swagger.

“Mhm.”

“Don’t humor yourself.”

He drinks again. "No?"

You stare at him for a moment and he smirks, thinking. He has an idea, but chooses to hold off for the moment being. He won't make this just another opportunity for him to try at getting in your pants. He's done enough damage to whatever was tentatively starting to grow between the two of you. He fears he's nearly killed it altogether.

This is him trying to dial it back.

You don't respond, instead reaching out for the bottle and he gives it to you. You drink, and then giggle lightly, and his lip twitches at the sound.

"So, the hell happened this morning when you started acting like a sour-puss all of a sudden?"

You look down at the bottle, tracing your finger along the comforter beneath you. You suddenly realize he's right about the whole liquid courage thing when you look up at him and suddenly don't feel so afraid anymore. "You make me feel safe sometimes. You've...done a lot for me. Even if you almost put a hole in my head..."

His jaw feathers. "I wouldn't have done it. Should've never raised a hand to you in the first place." He's quiet for a few seconds, then, "So I make you feel safe, huh?"

That was a first for him. The only person he ever had any responsibility in looking out for previously was Max, and he knew he scared the shit out of her. Not that he didn't do so on purpose at least half the time. They couldn't stand each other. He never pretended otherwise.

You pull the bottle into your lap and he licks his lips as you make a fist around the neck of it. "Mm, yeah."

"How's that?" He asks, unbuttoning his shirt halfway.

Your cheeks grow warm and you lower the bottle between your legs where a pulse is beginning to form. "I don't know. It's just the whole package, I guess."

Unable to help himself, he smirks before giving his reply. "You like my package, sweetheart?"

You groan, rolling your eyes, flopping back on the mattress, feet still planted atop it, knees bent.

He glances between your spread legs, growing hard.

You stare up at the ceiling. You're not drunk yet. And so you choose to revert back to more serious topics while you're still able to think straight.

"You said at the diner I could ask you questions. I still had four to go."

His eyes trail over your pert breasts. "How about we make things a bit more interesting?"

You lull your head to the side, looking at him, his shirt now fully undone. "How?"

His lip twitches, eyes growing dark. "I answer, but once I have, you have to remove a piece of clothing."

You roll your eyes back to the ceiling, sighing dramatically.

He laughs.

"Only if I get to choose what item."

His eyes widen. "Wait, really? You'll do it?"

You shrug. "If it's the only way."

"What's your first question, doll?"

You consider what you want to know the most about him. What best to start with. "Tell me about your mom."

He considers whether seeing you undressed is really all that important to him now. "Take another drink."

Maybe if he can get you plastered, you won't remember any of this conversation come morning.

Not understanding why he wants you to, you sit up a bit, swallowing another sip, then lie back down.

He reaches forward, taking the bottle from you and taking multiple pulls before leaning his head back, closing his eyes. "She..." His brow twitches as he imagines her on that beach, watching him in the water, a loving look in her eyes. "She tried with him. But I guess, like you, there was only so much she could take." He's unsure whether he's referring to the situation with your dad, or the other night on the interstate. "He was always fighting with her—accusing her of cheating and shit, not that I'd blame her—hitting her, pushing her around. I guess one day she'd had enough and hit the road. Maybe she just forgot me. Or didn't want me anymore. Maybe she only saw him when she looked at me. Who the fuck knows? She got out, I didn't. Until now. End of story."

You look at him and see that he's now staring up at the ceiling, his eyes a bit bloodshot, nose red. You want to reach out and touch him—give him a comforting gesture, but fear it will only make him feel worse. So you instead extend one of your legs, lying it atop his own.

He looks at you then, smirking, and he slides one of his hands along your calf. "So, what piece is comin' off first?"

You wiggle your foot that's currently resting atop his thigh. He shakes his head. "Of course it's something boring."

He slips your sock off, tossing it on the floor, then pauses, looking at you and a wide smile breaks out on his face as he grabs your ankle in one hand and starts tickling your foot with his other.

You squirm, letting out panicked laughs. "S-stop. N-noooo, please, aha!"

He lets up after a minute, hand sliding along your smooth leg again, chuckling to himself. "Three left to go, sweetheart."

For your next question, you tread as lightly as you possibly can. You make your voice light, soft. "You hate your dad for what he's done to you and your mom. For what he is—who. I guess I understand why you're so angry all the time. But why act similarly? Picking on me at school by pulling my hair...and what happened the other night... Is it just because that's the only example you've ever had set of how a man acts?"

He stays quiet, thinking. He begins to massage your foot with both his thumbs. Then, "I haven't been this open—vulnerable—with someone since before my mom left." He glances up to you. "I was ten then."

He looks back down. "I'm a man now. Not some kid. And a man doesn't cry or broadcast his shit to the world. He gets angry and fights back."

"Is that really what you think? That's how your dad—mine—are. Do you think they're real men?"

He stares at you then, hands stilling.

You wonder if he'd ever thought about it like that before. You continue. "You know what they say: you catch more flies with honey than vinegar."

He smirks. "Oh, I intend to get myself some honey eventually."

"Do you ever take anything seriously?"

"Not if I can help it," he says, taking the bottle and drinking again. "That your way of asking me to be sweet on you, baby?"

You reach for the bottle again, taking a drink yourself, wiggling your other foot.

He pulls your sock off, tossing it next to the other one. He doesn't tickle you this time. "Two more."

You're both thankful and not that he'd only offered you five. Had he done more, you'd be naked before you were done. And you were sure at that point he'd cut the questioning short, neither of you able to concentrate then. But you have so many things to ask—him still a bit of an enigma to you, or, rather, how he works.

You want to ask about his past with surfing, want to know how many girls he's been with—but know that question is far too juvenile and will make your feelings too obvious. You want to ask about his fascination with cars, what his favorite subject in school was, what about rock music appeals to him so much, maybe even ask about his step-sister. Instead, you ask about yourself.

"Why me?"

He begins rubbing your other foot. "Why you what, beautiful?"

That was a new one. And 'princess' earlier.

"You said it yourself the other night: you could've had any girl you wanted at Hawkins. I mean, I saw the way they all looked at you. So why me?"

He shrugs. "Like you said earlier, I guess it's just 'the whole package'."

You shake your head. "Try again, James Dean."

He laughs then, resting his head back, fighting the smirk on his lips. The last thing he needs is you thinking you're funny and it going to your head.

He looks down at you, the expression on his face now soft. "I only had eyes for you since day one, baby. There was just somethin' about you, I guess. Honestly, I think it was the fact you never tried to get my attention." He smirks. "Every man likes a chase. And I'll be damned if you haven't given me one. A few times."

He thinks about chasing you down on the interstate the other night.

"What about Angie?"

He raises a brow. "Were you jealous?"

You don't respond, just continue looking at him.

He shrugs. "It was what it was. I just did it to piss you off. Try to, at least. But once I had her in the backseat and we got down to business, there was only one girl on my mind, and it sure as hell wasn't her."

You blame your sudden sense of dizziness on the alcohol. "Oh."

"That surprise you?"

"Yes." You reach for the bottle and he hands it to you, your fingers brushing against one another as you take a few gulps. Your head really starts to spin then.

He leans forward, running his hand up your thigh. "Time to take something else off, darlin'."

You hand him the bottle, and with nervous hands, reach down to the hem of your shirt and pull it off, balling it up and tossing it at him.

"Now we're talkin'," he says, throwing your shirt across the room.

You shrug. "You already saw me in a bathing suit."

He smirks. "Context, doll."

His eyes glance down to your shorts. "Last one."

You're silent, for a long while, Billy taking a few sips from the bottle.

And then you speak.

"When we get to California...what happens?"

"I've been thinking about getting back into surfing again. I used to be really good at it. But that was almost a decade ago now. Might take a bit of practice to get back to where I was on the board." He shrugs. "Maybe I start competing and do odd jobs on the side until I maybe make it into something full-time."

You stay quiet.

"But that's not really what you're asking, is it?" He says.

You look at him.

"You're asking what happens to us when we get there."

You look at the wall. "No, I wasn't."

He clicks his tongue. "Thought we were being honest tonight."

You don't say anything, nor do you look at him.

His lip twitches. "You could always be my own personal cheerleader."

You look at him. "Would you even want that?"

He shrugs. "Someone's gotta do it."

A small smile comes onto your lips. "What's my rate-of-pay?"

His brow raises. "How about I just pay you in sexual favors? Your uniform will be covered."

Your face heats, remembering that comment. Stupid girl.

"Yeah, I still haven't forgotten about that, by the way."

"You wouldn't, would you?"

"No way in hell." He states matter-of-factly.

He then leans over you and reaches down, unbuttoning your jean shorts, slowly easing down the zipper and when you feel your body's reaction to it—rather, the reaction it's been having to him for awhile now—you desperately don't want him to pull them down. But a deal is a deal. And you know he won't be letting you out of this one either.

He hooks his fingers under the waistband and begins tugging them down your hips, sliding them off of your legs and he keeps his eyes trained on yours as he tosses them to the side.

And then he looks down and your face feels like it's boiling when his eyes grow wide at the sight before him.

He looks up to you then, removing his eyes from your panties that're now soaked through and sticking to you.

And for the first time in all the while you've known him, he's speechless.

But you are as well. So you simply push your thighs together, drawing your feet toward you.

He then shakes his head, letting out a low curse. "I should've let you ask more questions."

Once the two of you have showered and are in bed for the night—you'd gotten delivery for the night, Billy refusing to let you put your clothes back on all the while as you ate, and you pretending not to see his erection the entire time—you lied down in bed.

In truth, Billy had gotten off in the shower after your little drinking game—unable to think of anything else but the lovely sight between your legs, all for and from him. He'd not been quiet when he came, either. And when he emerged naked, going to lay down, he'd noticed a wet spot on the seat you got up from as you silently went to bathe.

It'd taken some time for him to calm down enough to sleep. His mind and body both, wondering if he shouldn't have taken a cold shower instead.

You, however, lied awake next to him, your own body still on fire, head still swimming, replaying the sight of him removing your shorts over and over again. The look in his eyes, his fingers pulling down the zipper, the veins in his hands as he gently yanked them off of you, curls falling over his shoulders, the scent of his cologne. The sight of him coming naked out of the bathroom. The sound of him orgasming in the shower.

You feel dampness in your panties again and you glance to him, still fast asleep. You then make what may very-well be a stupid decision and slip your hand beneath the waistband of them and begin to circle your clit with your fingers and your body jerks in response. You honestly couldn't remember the last time you'd not only touched yourself, but felt turned-on in general.

Living in that house with him...it killed all sense of hope and happiness and normality for you.

You look to Billy, your eyes trailing down his bare muscled chest, to his waist—his privates the only part of him that's covered, and barely at that, with a top sheet—and you slide your fingers between your wet folds and bite your lip.

You glance to his face, his lips, and circle your clit again, closing your eyes.

You spread your legs the least bit wider, closing your eyes, softly panting as you cup one of your breasts in your free hand.

Billy had been just on the verge of sleep when he'd heard you whimper beside him. His first thought had been that you were having a nightmare—stomach dropping at the thought of it being about him, about the other night—and then freezes when he looks at you and sees you touching yourself.

Your hand is in your panties, your other touching your breast, your lips slightly parted as you quietly moan.

His erection quickly returns to him then and he slowly turns onto his side. "You need a hand with that, baby?"

Your ministrations cease immediately, your eyes shooting open and head jerking to the right, looking at him. You open your mouth to reply and at first nothing comes out. Then, "I-I'm sorry."

He raises a brow, moving closer to you, erection brushing against your thigh. "For what, darlin'?"

You stare up at him.

"So, do you? Maybe I should just call in that offer for a sexual favor now. What do you think?"

You feel like your brain is suddenly misfiring as you actually consider saying yes. It's the alcohol. You're not thinking clearly. Not as you usually would without it in your system. But the thought of him touching you like that... It ignited something in you just when he looked at you.

He props himself up on his left forearm, his right hand coming to rest atop your stomach, then slowly moving lower and lower, his eyes trained on yours all the while.

Once his hand is just above the waist of your panties, you slowly pull your own hand out, resting it beside you, your heart now pounding.

He takes that as permission and slips his own between your legs, looking down.

"Fuck," he swears, looking back to you. "Are you always this wet?"

You consider telling him 'only with you', knowing that would most certainly get you a reaction. "S-sometimes."

His fingers explore between your hot folds, erection coming to settle atop your right thigh. It's only then you realize just how lengthy he truly is.

You turn more onto your right side, facing him and he slowly slips one finger inside of you, groaning at the tight feel, the slick sensation of you.

He then slowly—very slowly—leans down, pressing his lips gently to your own. And you let him this time. You kiss him back. And his heart fucking jumps.

Something it's never done with a girl before. The last time it had? The first time he set eyes on you in the parking lot at school as you walked inside. He'd known right then and there it was over for him.

He eases another finger into you and circles your clit with his thumb and you gasp against his mouth, then wrap your left arm around his neck, pulling your body against his own, and you begin to kiss him more fervently.

He circles that sensitive bundle again and again and slips his tongue in your mouth and you whimper, your own coming to dance with his.

He arches his strong fingers upward and you pull away, sighing, your lips brushing against his own.

"That feel good, honey?"

You nod, crushing your lips back to his own.

He massages that ledge inside of you and your body shudders and he smirks, continuing to kiss you, barely believing this is finally happening. That he's getting to touch you like this and you're allowing him to—enjoying it.

The entire time he'd been at the drive-in with Angela, all he'd been able to think about was you and Harrington in his car doing what he was doing with her.

What if he was your first time? What if you fell for him? What if he made you his instead? What if he lost any chance with you for good while Steve became your whole fucking world?

And for the first time, while having sex, he'd nearly been unable to finish. So, he'd closed his eyes, flipping her over, imaging it was you. And he'd finished almost-instantly then. Had damn-near yelled your name as he filled his condom.

And when he came back to reality, his erection had softened quickly as he pulled out and away from her, wanting—wishing—for someone else instead.

You'd never know the relief he'd felt—utter fucking joy—when you'd let it slip that you were a virgin, that you didn't even like Harrington like that.

And then he'd felt secure in knowing he didn't have any competition. Not for the moment being. You could still be his.

He moves his lips to your neck and you ease your head back, whimpering at the feeling of him licking and kissing and gently biting your hot sensitive skin. He then trails wet kisses to your ear and speaks lowly into it—you clenching around him when he does.

"When you come, sweetheart, I want you to fucking scream my name. I want half this damn place to hear it." He crushes his lips back to your own, tongue flicking against yours and you spread your legs wider, his fingers diving deeper.

Just as his arm begins to grow tired, your body jerks, your pants becoming more frequent, harder.

"That's it, baby, come for me. C'mon, sweetheart, you're almost there."

You begin to rock your hips against his hand, whimpering at the feel, clit growing more and more sensitive.

"Mm, please." You look up to him, kissing him again. Then, "Ah, right there."

His fingers work rapidly, rubbing and plunging in and out of you, your body responding accordingly.

Both of you are sweating now, panting, hearts pounding. His excitement grows knowing he'll be the first man to give you an orgasm. That he's the first to have his hand between your legs. The first for, well, a lot of things. And even more to come, he hopes.

Your fingers tighten in his hair, your breaths coming in shallow gasps and he knows he has you right on the edge. "C'mon, baby. C'mon, fuckin' come for me. That's it."

And then, "Billy! Ah, mm." You practically scream his name as you finish, your walls clenching rapidly around him, his callused hand now soaked in you.

He chuckles excitedly. "That's my fuckin' girl," he says between satisfied laughs, fingers still plunging away between your legs, until your hand comes down to grip his wrist, his movements ceasing.

He slips his fingers out of you, resting his forearm atop his naked hip as he looks down at you and you up at him from under hooded lids, lips swollen, face flushed, hair messy, the look on your face that of satisfaction.

"Thank you," you say shyly.

He presses a long kiss to your lips, then brushes some hair behind your ear. "No, thank you."

And then you do something unexpected: you take his throbbing erection in your hand and stroke him once, then twice.

He looks down, then back up to you. "Yeah?" He asks, brow raised, wondering if maybe you're just curious about touching him there after feeling it pressed against you so many times.

And then you nod, stroking a few more times.

He then wraps his fist around yours. "A bit tighter, baby. Yeah, no, tighter. You're not going to hurt me, sweetie." Then, "Fuck, that's fuckin' perfect. Just like that, angel."

You press your lips back to his, kissing him more softly this time, until his left arm snakes under your neck, gripping the back of your head, tugging at your hair and he devours your lips with his own. His other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you to him again, then slides down your thigh, lifting it onto his waist while you continue stroking away.

He squeezes your ass-cheek, then gives it a light slap, slipping his hand under your panties, keeping his hand there, squeezing and massaging as you continue to get him off.

Your strokes are a bit sloppy, and unsure, but he ignores that, just enjoying the feeling of being in your grip, of you bothering to return the favor. He then reaches down, pushing your t-shirt up and it's only then that he notices you're wearing one of his—the front design the cover of Def Leppard's Pyromania album. It only turns him on all the more.

Once your breasts are visible, he cranes his neck down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking, then rolling it between his teeth and you moan his name.

He trails his tongue along your chest, taking your other nipple in his mouth, precum dripping onto your hand.

He begins kissing upwards, to your neck, then back down again. God, he's never felt this fucking turned-on before.

His cock twitches in your hand, then does it again and he knows he's close. He should've gotten up and grabbed a towel, but it would've risked ruining the moment.

His hips jerk, sliding through your grip, and then he calms. He closes his eyes, pressing his forehead to your own, his right hand cupping your cheek now. "I'm so fuckin' close, baby. I'm about to cum. Fuck, keep going. Jesus Christ."

You begin to stroke faster and faster, and then he pushes you onto your back, taking himself in his hand as he comes all over your stomach in hot sticky spurts, groaning all the while, hips bucking, wishing he was doing this between your legs instead.

Once he's calmed—his cock softening—does he lie down for a moment next to you, trying to catch his breath. He then smiles up at the ceiling and starts to laugh.

You look at him and he swings his arms over his stomach. "Woo! Fuck yeah, baby!"

He looks at you, then leans over you again, kissing you, tongue licking your lips, dancing against your own. And then he pulls back, smiling down at you, curls hanging down, framing his face, and he flashes you a smile, showing his brilliant white teeth. "I'll go grab you a towel, sweetheart."

You nod, smiling yourself, pecking him on the lips.

You watch as he walks to the bathroom and he smirks, feeling your eyes on his ass.

You hear the sound of water, him washing up quickly, and then he returns with a damp towel and begins to wipe you down.

He then tosses the towel on the floor and climbs on top of you, resting his forearms on your breasts and his chin atop his arms, looking up at you. "God, that was fuckin' perfect."

You smile. "So I did a good job?"

You'd been afraid he would've eventually gotten bored, or tired of how long things were taking, but he'd not complained once.

He then scoots higher, resting on his right forearm, left hand smoothing hair away from your face as he hovers over you. "Yeah, baby, you did."

He kisses you again, then scoots back down a bit, resting his cheek between your breasts and your arms come to wrap around his warm shoulders. And then you move your hands higher, tangling in his hair, nails scratching lightly against his scalp.

And he falls asleep in your arms.

#fic: stranger things (billy hargrove x reader)#billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 2 days

Text

The Heart is an Ocean (Dark!Aemond x reader/oc (titanic au!) PART 2

Darkish aemond x reader/oc (?) (TITANIC THEMED!)

Cool devider credits: its uhm me.

Tags: Au Aemond, criminal Aemond, angst and hurt titanic au aemond x oc aemond x you aemond x

🔷Summary: You attend the ship of dreams, the Balerion in hope of finding your match to enrichen your family. But fate is cruel for those who dream. And the Balerion might not even reach the harbor of Valyria.

🔷Author's note: ''WILL THIS BE THE MOVIE REWRITTEN'' ASHSHSHDH I WISH! NO, its so not the movie. I was planning on naming the ship ''Titanic'' but I could not do that, it felt so icky. Big fan of the movie, big fan of books, the boat in general, and big nerd of it all. I went with a copy of the boat, and named it the Balerion. The route was original from Belfast to America i think but it will be from Crownlands to Valyria.

🔷Wordcount:5000

Warnings can be found under here

🔷Warnings: blood, arranged marriages, smoking, cocaine, illegal drugsdealing, eventually...you know, and murder. (the you know refers to the well-known fate of the boat) Classism, violence (not aimed at OC) and darkish criminal ruthless aemond.

TAGLIST: @namelesslosers

The morning after the ship had set sail, you finally awoke after a terrible night of sleep. The bed had been new, unused before and comfortable but it did not meet your standards, you told yourself so at least. Anything to avoid the truth: You had nightmares that kept you awake. Worries and concerns.

Your father had died this year, and now you had to find a new husband to ensure your family’s fortune. Your mother had no regard or respect for age. It wouldn’t have married if she could marry you to a rich walking skeleton, she would have done it.

Your maid, Esera arrived earlier that day, her face distraught as she greeted you with a curtsy. You smiled. Yes, the two of you were friends. But it was nice that someone, anyone, at least pretended you still mattered. That you still had some renown and worth. That you weren’t destined to fail, doomed to sink.

You allowed yourself to be bathed, dressed in a fine new silk gown and let her brush your hair. All while she kept looking as if someone had just stepped on her toes. ‘’You look more miserable than I feel,’’ You commented, sharp as a knife with a catish sly grin on your face. ‘’If it’s juicy gossip, you must share it with me.’’

Esera finally put down the brush after combing the same locks for ten long wasteful minutes. She nodded. You were never good at remembering and reading faces, but her spoke to you as a book. Whatever had happened, it was serious. You quickly gestured to the side of your bed, that she had made just earlier for you. You did not want her to faint. Thankful, she sat down.

‘’M’lady, it is such awful news.’’ She said, You nodded, already impatient to hear the truth and whatever scandal had unfolded among the passengers. She took a deep breath and when you read her eyes, even you, someone who has such difficulty reading people, could tell she was terrified. ‘’There is someone missing. A servant.’’ She announced.

You heard the words back in your head. Missing? How could anyone go missing? Well, it was a large boat but still. ‘’I am not sure what you mean.’’ You said, convinced that it was just a lazy servant taking a nap somewhere he was not allowed to be to begin with.

She rattled on. ‘’A steward. They said his name was Erryk. Apparently, he never showed up for the morning shifts. His brother is inconsolable. He has a job below deck, he does something with the coal.’’ He likely made sure that the Balerion kept going steadily, picking up its ridiculous speed as the ship sailed around the seas.

You watched as Esera started pulling her nails, the color drained from her face. ‘’I am just so horrified, m’lady. And I already fear boats.’’ She sniffed. You couldn’t help but look around, unknown of what to do as your servant wept. You patted her back once, twice, and after that, you gave up.

Boats didn’t scare you. But the Balerion did. It was so massive, so huge, so endless without end or beginning that your brain didn’t know how to wrap itself around it. The idea that you were one step away from becoming a shark meal didn’t help either.

You removed some tears from your dress with a napkin, and sat back down in front of the vanity. You opened the drawer and fished out your favorite perfume. You applied a heavy amount of it, hoping to haunt whoever would come close to you for the rest of this day. ‘’Well, what can we do about it? The Balerion is a massive boat.’’ You weren’t going to make this a you-problem. You had enough you-problems.

Esera nodded. You had just put your perfume down, as the door of your cabin slammed open and your mother threw herself into the entrance, running at you with an impressive speed that both surprised you and terrified you. ‘’My dear darling!’’ She giggled with delight. Until she saw your servant, sitting on your bed linen. She only had to click her fingers, and Esera left your room, looking possibly even worse than before.

You raised a brow at your mother. ‘’Do what do I owe the pleasure?’’ Truth was, she was your mother and Lady Waters still. She paid for your cabin. But you don’t appreciate people entering without knocking. It is what separates the men from the animals, in your honest opinion.

She waved a paper in your face. Quite rude. You snatched it out of her hands, reading the paper with disinterest. It had the colors of the Velyaron line, likely an event organized by the ship itself. It was about a social gathering, a ball, happening a few days later. Your mother was like a pitbull. If she smelled an opportunity for you to get a husband, she bit and wouldn’t let go. ‘’I snatched this from the announcement board. There will be a grant ball. All noble ladies are invited, as are the gentlemen. It is the perfect opportunity for you to find a nice, rich husband.’’ She said, cupping your chin into her hands and looking at you as if you were going to solve all her problems.

You tilted your head, already dreading this ball. ‘’Momma, I am not sure anyone on this ship is even interested in a marriage. I tried yesterday in the café and-’’ You were hushed as your mother sniffled your neck, oblivious to what you told her. Ignoring the truth, as always.

She looked disgusted, wiping away some perfume you had just applied. ‘’Why do you always apply so much perfume? You are a lady, not a whore. Begone with you. I must try to find a way to get you a gown for the ball.’’ She told you, ushering you out of your own rooms.

‘’The red one?’’ It was your favorite one with red shiny stones. You looked amazing in it, and it was the gown you last wore when your father was still alive. A true precious gown, as silly as it may be.

Your mother shook her head. ‘’We sold the red one, dear.’’

You turned your head so fast, you were afraid that it would snap and roll off from your neck, to glare at her. You didn’t know that. She likely did it when you were packing for this horrendous journey on the seven hellish seas. ‘’It had to be done, Cristella! You aren’t married yet, which means more and more of our precious heirlooms will end up by some dirty peasant.’’ The local pawn shops, she meant. The idea that some peasant was now walking around in your gorgeous Visenya Dalararis gown, it hurted you. Deeply.

You huffed, slamming the door behind you as you left your cabin. You could not give a rat’s ass about being a proper lady. At that moment, you didn’t want to care. But you still did. You cared. And you cared too much about that. Finding a husband was not an easy task. Tales of your fall to ruin had spread far and wide and the only men that would be interested in you, were likely living under a rock, or that old that their memory was failing them.

You had not your own life to think about. You had two sisters, and a mother, all depending on you to find a rich husband. You never thought you would be responsible for so many people, and you never knew how crushing the weight of being the carebringe was. It was enough to make you feel like you were sinking, alone at sea in the dark.

Your breath caught in your lungs, as you tried to make sense of a terrible situation. Either you would marry some fossil that was old enough to witness the first men come to Westeros, or you will fail and condemn your family to a life on the streets. You know your family. You would not make for good beggars. You would all starve, freeze, die.

You would like to cry. You did force yourself, to let the tears come out. But stopped as you realized, no one cared about your tears anymore. Any gentleman knew of the bankruptcy. The only thing you had then, was your beauty. Your grace. And your pride. A single tear rolled down your left cheek, drawing the pattern of a splatter paint drop. They could take your money. And your dresses. But they could never take away your pride.

You gathered the courage, wiped at your cheek the tear with your gloves, and left your cabin to enter the one belonging to your sisters. As usual, Maelys was still in bed at this hour, glaring at you as she was reading a book. ‘’Good morning, sister.’’ She said, and you could hear she was not that pleased to see you. You greeted her with an uninterested wave.

Your other sister, Dysera was already up and dressed, smiling patiently at you, her gloved hands folded neatly in her lap. You weren’t good at reading people, but you knew Dy as your own pocket. Maybe because you two were much alike. And you knew at that moment, she was looking for trouble. Dismissive, you went to grab your coin purse. ‘’Where are you going?’’ She asked, her voice surprisingly light and eager.

You didn’t know where you were going, both in life and on the ship. Her question made you realize that and made you lash out. ‘’to have breakfast.’’ You told her and it was the truth. You were planning on getting a nice warm toasted loaf of bread and a baked egg for you, and you alone. Just eating in silence as the toast melted on your tongue, oh, the delight. No sisters were part of this fantasy and you intended to keep it that way.

But your sister jumped at the idea of leaving the hellish cabin and you could not blame her for it. Well, maybe a little. ‘’I am coming with you!’ She said, delighted. You frowned. That was not the plan. ‘’Maybe I’ll find a husband there, before you do.’’ She started and laughed, but it hurt you that she dared to even say that.

‘’Maybe you won’t,’’ you stepped closer and smiled, hiding your anger behind your catty smile and your beautiful eyelids. ‘’I heard men like women who can offer something. If they simply wanted comfort, they’d take a whore or a pet. Now, scurry off.’’ And that hurted her. She would never inherit anything. You would. You watched as her eyes filled with tears.

You sighed as you walked away, leaving the cabin. You passed the sign. 192B. A insult. The B deck was all they could afford. A shame, truly. in more ways than one. You had enough of the day and it had just started. You needed a smoke, a drink, perhaps both at the same time. You laughed quietly in yourself as you left the deck, entering the main deck, where gentlemen and ladies alike were conversing, strolling and just enjoying the calm weather.

You decided to go to another café than the one your mother had rented for your speeddates. This one was called the Octopus and had a ugly sign outside of it, but you were hungry and too lazy to go look anywhere else. You sat down at a table and ordered your meal, waiting impatiently as the servants rushed around you, serving meals and taking orders from other customers.

You were tested. Some of these ‘’customers’’ didn’t even seem…Well, they sure smelled like they should be eating two decks below. Or not aboard a boat at all, truly. But in the docks. In a dark alley. They didn’t wear fancy gowns, suits with hats befitting the latest fashion, they smelled as if they hadn’t washed in centuries and had the manners of a barn animal. In truth it was all terribly unsetting and upsetting.

The staff did give you a glass of champagne prior, thank the seven gods. You had not much happening as a girl in a dark red coloured dress approached with lace covering her shoulders. Eyes turned as she entered, and you had to admit, that included yourself. She had white, gorgeous classic Valyrian hair, styled in a beautiful knot that clearly was defying gravity on its own. You were impressed.

Until you saw the hatred in her eyes when she finally found you sitting at the table. You ignored her at first, as any sane woman would. Whatever she had going on, it was not going to become your problem.

You waited for your pancakes, becoming more impatient and hungry as every moment passed. ‘’I was hoping I’d see you today.’’ You looked around, to see who had the audacity to attempt to make conversation while you were starving, angry, tired and seasick.

The girl stood in front of you, arms crossed like she had accomplished something. She had in fact, not accomplished anything. You were not impressed. You actually felt sorry for her. Whoever her parents were, they raised a true brat. ‘’And you are?’’ You asked, hiding a laugh.

She laughed as well but hers was fake and insincere.‘’Perhaps you know my sister. Beautiful, gorgeous, rich.’’ It all came back to you. That Baela girl that stole your man and insulted you. Yet you pretended you didn't know, just to get her angry. You pretend to think, sipping your champagne glass.

While you were sipping champagne, you faked a gasp, quickly putting your glass down and looked at the girl. ‘’Does she have an ego the size of Westeros and Essos combined and does she smell of desperation?” You sat down, your face calm and a cold mask as you grinned at the girl’s furious face. ‘’How lovely that your sister felt so scared that she sent you to find me.’’

The girl scoffed, laughing to avoid the fact that you did hurt her feelings. You saw through her as if she was made of glass, however. ‘’I assume you know who I am?’’ That was a bold statement. It took you five years to learn the name of your own handmaid. How in the seven hells were you supposed to know the name of any random passenger on this boat?

And aside that, you also…Well, you didn’t care. ‘’I am sorry, if I knew the name of every second class passenger, my head would explode.’’ You commented, sipping from your champagne when watching her become more and more furious.

The woman gathered her courage, and her strength. ‘’I am Lady Rhaena Targaryen.’’ Ah. Your thoughts were whisked away to a wicked smile on pink soft lips, lips belonging to a certain smoking gentleman. His smile captivated you as you noticed your lips breaking into a smirk. Mr Targaryen did not seem to even be remotely like her.

‘’And now the part where I am supposed to care who you are?’’ You rang out, dryly as you downed your entire glass in frustration. A targaryen girl, so stunning, so fierce, that was going to be a problem. She would steal all eligible bachelors from you, bleed them dry and have them ruined. You could not afford that.

The girl leaned in and when she attempted to whisper something of a threat in your ear. ‘’You think you have won this, little Bastard. But you are not even close to tasting victory. Men want class, riches and fame. Your dowry is good enough to maybe buy cup of coffee.’’ She finished brutally. It got under your skin. It did. Because you knew, she was right. You waited for the waiter to bring you and Rhaena two fresh glasses of champagne, and accidentally emptied yours over her head. Furious and fuming, you left the cafe.

You had to get out of there. Fresh tears threatened to fall. To ruin everything you worked so hard for.

A voice called out to you, surprising you. ‘’Miss Waters!’’

Aemond Targaryen had followed you. He looked as handsome as ever, wearing a a suit unlike most of the gentlemen. He also had a plate of pancakes in his hands, offering it to you with an apologetic gentle smile. ‘’Pardon me, but you had forgotten your order.’’ You were amused, raising your brows at him.

‘’Is this how you hope to earn your money to provide for a wife, Mr Targaryen? 'By playing waiter?’’ It was a coy tease as brief as a wink. He took it well, smiling despite your insult.

‘’Why, I never would. Rest assured, my future wife can buy all the Seven Kingdoms and I still would be rich.’’ He was bragging, trying to impress you. You faked a subtle smile, keeping your eyes on him at all cost as you took a small elegant bite of the pancake he had brought you.

You brought your fingers to your chin, cleaning the corners of your mouth as Aemond watched, breathless. ‘’I believe we discussed what I thought of Cocky men.’’ You reminded him of that for your own sake.

Aemond gestured to the brim of the ship, inviting you over to watch the waves. You followed, but kept appropriate distance. ‘’This boat is ridiculous. Do the Velyarons need to compensate for something?’’ You remarked.

To your surprise, he laughed, briefly smirking too. ‘’I assure you, they do. I heard Lord Daemon and Lady Laena no longer share a room.’’ You loved scandalous gossip. And you loved that this was about the Mother of lady Baela. Seems that her parents aren’t as perfect as she pretends to be either.

You know Daemon is a known rag, often preferring to lay with younger ladies and that his bed has seen more women on it than a whorehouse. ‘’Why, whatever could be the reason?’’ You asked, your voice soft and innocent. Aemond tilted his head, his tongue briefly licking his lips clearly somewhere else.

He shook his head, his silver hair danced. ‘’But it is not appropriate for me, to discuss such vile rumors with a proper lady.’’ He said, reminding himself of his duties. He even stepped back to create more distance. And you found yourself stepping closer to him, almost dreading to be separated, drawn to him by a force beyond your understanding.

You sweetly lowered your eyes, your lips pouting. ‘’You are such a tease, Mr Targaryen.’’ But two could play that game. You would show him. ‘’May I ask you to accompany me to the better decks? I seem to have forgotten where my room is.’’ You replied, hooking your arms into his own. He seemed to smirk as you two strolled over the deck, and Aemond received a lot of angry, jealous glares.

‘’So, tell me more about the drama.’’ You whispered in his ear as the two of you finally had found some shade under a big parasol. Aemond laughed and it sounded forced for a brief moment.

You needed the information to make the campaign for Baela, Rhaena and possibly Laena impossible. They could not find a husband. Well, at least, not before you. ‘’Laena kicked Daemon out of their cabin. He was found in bed with another married woman, who was recently widowed.’’ Aemond tells you, his voice a seductive hushed whisper.

You covered your mouth with your free hand, faking disgust as you were possibly overjoyed. ‘’My!” You gasped, but you were delighted. ‘’Such vile things indeed.’’ He nodded.

Aemond nodded, agreeing with you, his disgust clearly readable from his face. He did not like Daemon. You could tell. ‘’I should not have told you. Now I have soiled your ears, dirtied your mind.’’ He was scolding himself.

You huffed, insulted at this. You were not a child. ‘’I assure you, I am quite capable of vile things myself.’’ You said, as you two made your way to the deck. You walked past the cafe, and multiple people including Rhaena took notice of you on the arm of Aemond Targaryen. You waved, smiling sweetly through the window as Rhaena almost choked on her drink, her sister Baela looked just as miserable.

To that, Aemond let out a delighted sigh. ‘’I shall spare no details. Daemon was found with not one, not two, but three whores in his bed.’’ That confused you. One whore had to be enough, surely.

You looked puzzled and Aemond knew, which is why he grinned, smirking brightly. ‘’Why does a man need three whores?’’ You asked, voicing your confusion. That sounded expensive too.

Aemond leaned in a little closer, his breath hot in your neck as he whispered. ‘’Maybe to watch them play with one another?’’ He suggested, and you wondered quietly, briefly, for a mere moment, if Aemond would like the same. If he too, had vile thoughts. You quickly shook off those thoughts, scolding yourself for even having them.

You know Aemond meant the act. Yet you want to tease and know more. ‘’Play, what? Cards?’’ You asked, with an innocent smirk. Aemond opened and closed his mouth, reading you very well.

He grinned. ‘’Who is a tease again? You know much more than you pretend to know, Miss Waters.’’

You shrugged, and when you both were alone in a hallway on the deck, you briefly smiled at him, surprising him. ‘’I never said I didn’t, Mr Targaryen.’’ You waited for Aemond to walk around the corner, before you trapped him against the walls of the ship.

Aemond let out a surprised shriek, eying you with much desire and want as you held him into place. You were relieved there were no witnesses. You caressed his chest, searching for his cigarettes already. He acted fast, grabbing your hand and pinning you against the walls instead, smirking as he leaned in closer.

He cupped your chin with his fingers, grinning as you went speechless. ‘’You still owe me for the first one you stole.’’ He said, a smirk dancing on his lips. This man.

You ignored the butterflies in your stomach, as well as your own arousal. ‘’What will you do about that?’’ You asked, trying to sound careless and fearless.

But he could read you all too well, and smirked, bringing his lips closer to your own. ‘’I don’t know. You must be held accountable.’’ He said, as if he was thinking deeply. ‘’Yes, a nice punishment will do.’’ Punishment? You scoffed.

‘’Will you put me on your knee and spank me?’’ You asked, in anger.

His answer surprised and shocked you. He simply leaned in closer, brushing with his nose against your own and touched your lips with his fingers. ‘’Maybe one day.’’ He whispered and you felt as if he made you and himself a promise.

You were speechless. ‘’For now, a nice evening out will do. I shall pay for dinner and we can talk about our mutual hate for the Velyaron family. How does that sound?’’ You could not be seen with another man. Not going out with him, at least.

‘’Mr Targaryen-’’ You started but Aemond silenced you by firmly putting you back against the wall, smirking as you briefly whimpered softly.

He whispered softly. ‘’Men want what other men have. Seeing you on my arm, it makes them wild. Just say yes, Love. What else do you have to do anyway?’’ He asked.

‘’I,’’ You stuttered, shocked at the audacity and the brutality. How dare he? And yet, you liked it.

‘’Excellent.’’ Was all Aemond said, taking distance and folding his hands on his back. He gave a respectful bow but his smirk did not match that all. ‘’I shall pick you up, 8 o’clock sharp. And I will have something sent over to your cabin, you may wear it, if you like it.’’ He smirked, leaving you alone with your thoughts and your heart racing.

—

Aemond sat that afternoon, in his own cabin. He had placed his leather boots on the salontable, smoking a cigarette after escorting the Waters girl home. He pictured her shocked and flustered face when he offered to take her out again. Nothing came close to seeing that uncertainty. The same uncertainty he faced for years. It was justice. She starved him. He would only take revenge. It was fair. Needed, in a way.

Cregan finally entered the cabin, bringing a neat suit for Aemond. Aemond sized it up, inspecting it for any wrongs. ‘’You did well, picking this one. Miss Waters is a very picky bee.’’ He confided in his best friend. ‘’If as much as a single stitch is out of order, I may never hold her hand again.’’ He made his voice a soft dramatic whimper. Cregan laughed, and soon, Aemond joined.

‘’As if she even has a choice, soon.’’ Aemond commented. ‘’Once the Captain’s Ball takes place, I put her in a scandal, and she’ll have no choice but to consent to marry me.’’ It was the perfect plan. He just had to act kind until the scandal. He wasn’t sure what scandal he would pull just yet. He would not force himself upon her. No, never. So, that meant, another, but maybe just as brutal and heartbreaking way to end her social society status. To take home the Queen and clear out the board, once and for all.

A rough, but eager voice ran out as Criston ran into the cabin, surprising Aemond. ‘’We might have a problem.’’ Criston said, and to Aemond’s displeasure, the man was covered in blood. Aemond raised a brow, removing both his boots from the table and jumped to his feet. What could have happened?

Cole smirked. ‘’You need to tie down that brat of yours soon. A man was dancing with her, moments after you had brought her to the cabin.’’ Aemond’s blood boiled. So, she was very well capable of making her way to the cabin alone. She played him. Again.

‘’What man?’’ Aemond responded, sweetly. ‘’And I assume there’s a marvelous reason why you are covered in blood?’’

—-

Aemond had never enjoyed being a killer. He was good at it, yes. But he never took pride or happiness from kills. Unless they were his enemies. Cole had shown Aemond a spare storage room, where the gentleman that had dared to dance with his Queen, was present. Tied up and gagged. The man in question was old, boring and would never statisfy the Waters girl. He knew it.

Aemond lowered his favorite knife against the throat of the man, forcing the man to gulp as he started to draw a thin line, causing blood to jump out of the wound. ‘’Why did you dance with Miss Waters?’’ He asked, his voice a low growl.

‘’She’s a lovely lass.’’ The man responded, as Cole had removed his gag. Aemond shared a brief glance with Cole. That was the weakest excuse he ever heard. Miss Waters was not a lovely lass, no, she was the Stranger reborn, he was certain of it.

‘’Hm,’’ Aemond said, tilting his head with a smile. ‘’You do understand she is bankrupt, yes? All the money she had, is invested in this trip.’’ He informed the man, hoping it would scare him off as a rat in the harbor.

And it did. He seemed utterly shocked at Aemond's words. Furious, even. ‘’She is? But I assumed…’’ Aemond’s interest finally peaked, and he grabbed the man by his hair, hissing in his face.

‘’What did you assume?’’

The man gulped. ‘’Jacaerys Velyaron was heard bragging about her. How he had her in his pocket. I assumed if Jace is interested….’’ The man fell silent once again. Aemond cursed, closing his eyes. Jace was Interested. ''Never mind, I shall focus on another lady instead.'' He promised Aemond.

Aemond scoffed, grinning madly. ''You already touched what belongs to me. You must pay for that.'' He said. ''You touched my Queen. You will die for that.''

The poor man did not intend to die for that, and tried to plead. ''She's of no use to me! You can have her! I am sure if-'' Aemond had heard enough. He grabbed the man by his throat, drove a knife into his stomach for a slow, painful dead and simply pulled the knife in, and out, watching flesh and blood pour out of the wound which each sweet pull. He imagined the reaction if Miss Waters was here to watch him.

Soon, she too would be on her knees. As would the entire world. It would all be his for the taking. As it always should have been. Miss Waters was his, the world was his, and nothing would stand in his way. ‘’Make sure this mess gets cleaned up. And we need to think of a possible emergency plan for my new wife.’’ Aemond ordered his men. He had a lot to think about, and so little time. His wife was waiting for him soon, and he needed to charm her.

Cregan began with cutting the corpse loose from the chair. ‘’I mean, you can’t kidnap her, can you?’’ He offered, and it was a solid idea, had this been a novel. It was not a novel. He needed her consent, he needed her on her knees, begging him to marry her. A conquest without war is a boring conquest.

He did consider it, of course. But he does not want to pull that card, not yet. Not when he can make her fall in love with him naturally. ‘’I’ve considered it, but no. She must marry me first.’’ He said, avoiding Cole's judgemental glare. He always said that women were not property.

The Kingmaker began chopping the body into pieces. ‘’So that just means, beating the rich pretty boy and winning her heart first.’’ He summarized, dryly.

Aemond nodded, already feeling that he had failed miserably. ‘’Seems like it. I just don’t understand one thing: What does Jace even want with her?’’ He muttered. ‘’Well, I suppose we need to find out. And quickly. Because I am not letting that bastard get away again.’’

A UPDATE

WOW

eh bye xD

Thank you for reading as always:)

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destielbeatlesminibang · 2 days

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Title: While My Guitar Gently Weeps

Author: eyesofatragedy67

Artist: witchy-worm

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: Cas's deal with the Empty broke Dean's heart. And no matter what they tried, they couldn't get him out.

They did manage to take care of Chuck, though, and with him out of the picture, Dean finally hung up his gear and built a life for himself. Or whatever passes for life when the one person you want to share it with most is out of reach.

But Dean's got his bar, Charlie at his side, and his guitar to keep him company on the nights memories pull him under.

And he hopes against hope that someday Cas will return to him.

Tags: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Charlie Bradbury, Dean Winchester & Original Female Character, Past Major Character Death, Temporary Character Death, Canon Divergent After Episode 15x18, Fix It Fic, No Rebar Was Used In the Making of This Fic, The Empty Deal, Songfic, Dean Winchester POV, Non-linear Storytelling, Flashbacks, Nightmare Containing Non-Graphic Suicide, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dean Winchester Needs a Hug, Dean Winchester/Castiel First Kiss, Cas Gets By With A Little Help From His Friends, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Loosely Inspired By Across the Universe, Finale What Finale

Posting on June 26

Keep reading for a short excerpt.

Arms laden with bags, Dean carefully closes the hood of Baby's trunk and makes his way to the bunker entrance. The lock sticks a little as he turns his key, and he makes a mental note to get some lead shavings so he can loosen it back up.

As he steps inside, he hears laughter echoing off the walls and quietly sets the bags down so he can have a moment to himself, a moment to just enjoy his loved ones taking a well-deserved break after the insanity of Michael and Belphegor and a fucking zombie apocalypse.

He can see Sam's mane of L’oréal commercial hair tossing as he uproariously laughs at something Cas said. Dean doesn't catch it, but whatever it is probably isn't meant to have Sam giggling like the teenage girl he is.

The look on Cas's face is one Dean has a strong affection for. That confused puppy head tilt that is sometimes genuine bafflement, but other times his way of indulging his favorite humans. Dean would give a lot to keep looks like that on Cas's face. Fuck knows he's been the cause of enough sadness and disappointment for the guy. Seeing him happy, at home, is everything to Dean.

But he can't tell Cas that. He can never tell Cas that he wants him to have every ounce of happiness he deserves.

Because he can't lose him. Dean can't lose the goddamn love of his life to happiness. And how fucked up is that?

So he takes these moments as he gets them. He treasures every single fucking smile, every small laugh, every gentle touch… and he doesn't say the words that have been scorching him from the inside for so damn long.

Some day that deal Cas made – the one Dean isn't supposed to know about – is going to come out in the wash, and Dean is going to lose one of the most vitally important people in his life.

But not today, dammit.

Dean smiles down at them, quietly chuckling as Jack walks into the room with a look so similar to Cas's that it's hard to see Lucifer in the kid now.

Leaning on the banister railing, Dean just watches them for a bit. There's nothing perishable in the bags, so there's no reason he can't just sit back and soak in this scene of his chosen family doing normal family shit.

The love he sees there, and the love he's hiding, are weights in his chest that he's not willing to give up. He'll fucking fight for them; he'll blow up the goddamn world if it means he gets to hold onto this.

He swipes away the stupid man tear that’s trailing down his face and focuses on the now. Because moments like this are what keep him going. This ragtag bunch of idiots are his motivation.

He'll be damned if he's gonna lose them. Even if it means he loses a bit of his heart in the process.

#destiel #supernatural #the beatles #destiel beatles minibang

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thoughtsfromlayla · 1 day

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Love and Loss Extra Content (1)

Based on the characters from Love and Loss

Summary: Your and Morpheus' daughter sneaks off again and it's up to your husband to find her. It's hard when she can shift shapes just like her father.

Notes: ~950 words, ideas inspired by @kpopgirlbtssvt and a few of their sent in requests

Warnings/Tags: Meowpheus, happy family time, fluff :)

Main Masterlist | One Shot Masterlist

The tiny goddess giggles as she watches the panicking dreams and nightmares running around below her. She stays hidden within the leaves of the tree she hides in. Her jet-black hair is a mess, and her face is covered in dirt, but still, she perseveres.

A dream looks up at the trees when he hears a giggle, but the child shifts into a beetle and stays as still as she can. When the dream shrugs and turns away she returns to her normal form, still giggling. She was technically still within the castle walls, so she wasn’t disobeying her parents or anything.

She had snuck away from her mother when she wasn’t looking and her father was too enamored with his wife to realize. Delphyne was awfully good at that: going undetected. Of course, it didn’t take very long for her parents to notice she was missing, and a Dreaming-wide panic swept across the realm.

She turns into a field mouse and scurries her way down the tree, jumping when she is a safe distance from the ground. Delphyne runs across soft grass blades as fast as her legs can carry her.

She runs and runs, feeling the wind in her fur and seeing so many new things from a perspective this low. When she hits a set of stairs she can’t climb, she morphs into a cat and jumps. Delphyne feels the powerful leg muscles of her form as she launches herself onto the next step, then the next, until her paws hit the cold floors of the castle interior.

“They should call me Delphyne, conqueror of the stairs!” She thinks to herself, stomping a small paw in harumph. She then stalks off into some unknown corner.

Her energy leaves her, suddenly, having used all of it from the stairs. Delphyne peeks around the corner and sees her mother. She sees you, her mother, rubbing your temples as you walk in slow circles, this wasn’t the first time Delphyne ran off, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

But it was so much fun!

Delphyne turns, going to walk off in the opposite direction to avoid her mother just a little longer. But, before she could, she mews as gentle but firm teeth scruff her. She goes limp in the hold and though she can’t see him, she knows she was just caught by her father.

His long, black fur rubs against hers as he trots towards her mother.

“I found you, you little rascal,” He interlinks with her mind. A small growl emits from deep in his throat but Delphyne pays no mind to it. It was an empty threat anyway.

“I hid longer this time!” She replies happily.

Morpheus pushes out air from his nose, his nose and whiskers twitching in annoyance. Though he will admit that she was getting better at this hiding game of hers. It made him proud, even if it caused a good deal of trouble for everyone else.

“Morpheus!” You exclaim when you see her husband, the large cat hard to miss. “And… Delphyne…” You start to scold as well.

Morpheus sits as his wife reaches down to grab at their kitten daughter. When you wrap gentle fingers around her torso, she explodes into a fit of laughter as she turns human once more.

“Did I hide well?” The tiny goddess asks you as she wraps her hands around her mother’s neck.

“Very well, my dove,” You smile down at her. You couldn’t stay mad at your child for long, not when she smiled at you like that.

Delphyne squirms in your grasp, not liking to be held for long periods of time. When you place her on the ground, she runs to her father. Delphyne wraps her chubby arms around his neck, the softness of his fur enveloping her fully.

“Thanks for finding me, Kitty Daddy!” She giggles, nuzzling her chin on the top of his head. His ears flatten at the action, but he purrs in response.

Morpheus blinks slowly as Delphyne pulls away, tilting his head as he watches her shift into a kitten once more. He watches still, not moving from his sitting position, as she rears her hind and shakes it. With a small growl, she pounces on him, claws drawn and tiny teeth baring at him.

Morpheus thinks if he knew she wanted to play fight with him, he would’ve pretended to fall over to boost her confidence. But, honestly, he didn’t know what she was going to do. So, in actuality, she unceremoniously bounces off his chest without him moving an inch. Delphyne tumbles onto her back, her paws swinging in the air as she tries to turn herself right side up again.

Unblinkingly, he slides down until he lays on all four paws, and his gaze remains on his daughter. This… should be good enough, right?

“Mamaaaa!!” Delphyne whimpers as she turns and bolts for his wife. She scales the loose dress of her mother easily with her small claws and shifts human once more. She hides her tear streaked face in the neck of her mother who only shakes her head with a smile.

Morpheus is quick to shift back to his human form. “Wait, I’m sorry, my little love.”

Morpheus raises a hand to pat her back gently but watches with an agape mouth as his beloved wife, the love of his life, the missing piece to his soul, his true match, walks away with his daughter in her arms. He follows them, as he would to the ends of every world, feet dragging as Delphyne’s hiccups echo the halls of the castle, and his wife’s shoulder bounce with poorly hidden laughs.

Some good old fluff after whatever the fuck happened in chapter four of DDOL

♡ Yours, Layla

#the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #the sandman fanfic #meowpheus #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman x reader #sandman x reader

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digital-domain · 3 days

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Mahito x Reader // word count 2k

In which Mahito offers to make your insecurities disappear. Quite literally.

Tags/warnings: dark content, yandere, implied noncon, body horror, kidnapped reader, biting, blood, non-consensual kissing, discussion of death, gender neutral reader, reader has body image issues and is implied to have dealt with them in unhealthy ways

A/N: Not as painstakingly edited as usual because I'm trying to get out of the write-something-and-then-pick-at-it-until-I-hate-it time loop

You are sitting with your knees pulled up to your chest, facing the wall of the sewer. It is not the first time you have sat like this, nor the first time you have spent so long in this position. In the early days, Mahito would tell you to turn around and watch him experiment, and you’d feel your stomach writhe in time with the contorted things on the floor. But he lets you look away now. You’re not sure why, but you don’t bother wondering. It’s easier not to look, to pretend that you are alone, to tell yourself that the almost-human sounds echoing in the tunnel are merely figments of your imagination. That his laughter is only a memory from your nightmares, and not a constant reminder of what your life has become.

There isn’t much laughing this time. It’s mostly noises of surprise and keen interest, the kind a normal person might make upon viewing something mundane under a microscope, and seeing its hidden world beneath. You do not know what worlds Mahito is discovering, and you hope he doesn’t force you to find out.

The worst part, of course, comes after his mouth finally closes. When you hear nothing but his footsteps upon the ground. Coming closer. You don’t run from it, or lash out, like you used to. Your stomach churns, and your pulse quickens, but you still let him spread his legs on either side of you, press his chest to your back, and wrap his arms around your waist. His hands cross beneath your ribcage, and you try not to think about what they were touching before. What you might see if you turn around. What he might be feeling, now that he has you so close.

“You would’ve liked it this time,” he says, as if he actually believes it. “It was interesting. And less…hm. Less dramatic than usual, I guess. For a while.” A high-pitched little spurt of laughter ruptures in your ear. “I got really carried away at the end. But I did try.”

“Why does that matter?” Even hearing him talk about it makes you nauseous, but not so much that you can’t speak. Not anymore. “It ends the same no matter how it starts.”

“Maybe! But you’ve got a saying about that. It’s…ah. What is it…?” He presses his face into the side of your neck and inhales deeply. Kisses your skin with cold lips before breaking away with a sudden start. “Oh! I remember. ‘The journey’s more important than the destination.’ It’s a very nice saying. I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

You don’t like the way his mind drifts when he touches you. He makes you go rigid, takes away your ability to blink and breathe, but you seem to do the opposite to him. He kisses you again, in the same place, and then bares his grin, scrapes at you with his teeth and tongue, pulls and sucks and bites at your skin -

It is a long time before he says anything again. Long enough for you to be grateful that you have no way to see your reflection, to assess the damage he’s left behind, the growing collection of reminders on your body.

“I could take you on a journey, too.” He tightens his arms around you, presses in until you can barely tell where he ends and you begin. “I could change you, like I changed them…well.” He giggles. “Not quite like that. You’d still be alive at the end.”

You go stiff. Breath catches in your throat. “No.” Your voice creaks out, so quiet that he might not even notice how terrified you are. “No.” Louder. There’s more, there, if only you could find the strength to say it. Don’t touch me, let go of me, stay far, far away, let me go -

“Don’t worry. I’d let you decide what you wanted me to do. Although I’m pretty sure I already know.” You squirm desperately against his hold, and he sighs, and presses his lips to your ear. “I’m not trying to scare you, you know. I don’t want to change anything about you. You’re so so cute already. But…”

There is a trickle of blood dripping down your neck. Slow, already drying. How long has it been there? How long have you tuned it out?

“I know there are parts of your body that you don’t like.” His voice is uncharacteristically gentle, and you search it for any hint of amusement. “You really don’t like them. I was watching you for a while before I brought you here, so I saw the things you did to hide them. To change them. It’s not so different from what I do.” He lifts his hand from your waist, wiggles his fingers in the air. “I’m just way, way better at it.”

“No.” You don’t even know what you look like anymore. Even if you did -

Maybe you’d still hate it. But it doesn’t matter here.

“I know I could do it.” He lets go of you for a moment, repositions his hands, and spins you around, the force of the sudden movement knocking your own hands from the places where they dug into your shins. You splay them flat against the floor, and keep your eyes down. “Here.” He crouches in front of you, and points. “And here. And here. I could make all of it look just how you want it to.”

You close your eyes, scared to get a glimpse of what lies behind him. (That’s not the only reason, is it?) It’s better not to look at him, either. (And…)

“It’s really a very tiny difference between what you have and what you want, so it won’t be easy to do perfectly,” he admits. “But it also means that you probably wouldn’t die. And if I mess up, I can always just try again!”

He’s so close to you. Breathing on your face, even though you’re pretty sure he doesn’t have to breathe at all. If you open your eyes, you won’t be able to see what’s behind him - his stare will take up your entire field of view.

“I don’t want to mess up, though. You wouldn’t be very happy if I did that. And I want you to be happy.” He touches the side of your jaw, and then tugs carefully at the corner of your mouth, like he thinks it might rip open if he pulls too hard. “You smiled a lot before I brought you here. It was cute.”

Your eyes are still closed. His hand is just as cold as his lips. You could even feel it through your clothes, moments before. Here, and here, and here…you wish he didn’t understand the way you think about yourself. He’d be so much easier to tune out if he was wrong.

“I want you to smile because of me.” His hand crawls up the side of your face, and pulls at your eyelids, his touch a bit less gentle than it was a moment before. “If that means making you look a tiny bit different, I don’t mind. As long as I don’t have to change your mouth”-

You look at him, because you truly believe your eyelids might rip off if you don’t.

“Oh. Or those eyes. Not those, either.” He’s leaning so far forward that his nose brushes yours. So that you can see him, and only him - and you. Just a bit of you, in his eyes, the tiniest glimpse of your own reflection that you wish you could erase. “I’ve been practicing a lot,” he says, “but I never change those.”

Practicing.

“What do you mean?” You’re not sure if you actually say it, or if it’s only in your head. Either way, he doesn’t answer you with words. Instead it’s with a kiss, which is worse, because his tongue is in your mouth now, and his hands are on all the places that he just pointed out on your body, and they don’t change. You’re exactly who you are, far too grounded inside yourself as this thing makes you wish you had no body to touch at all.

And yet, you don’t want it to end. Because when it ends -

He sits down at your side.

And with that, there is nothing between you and the rest of the mess he’s created.

And you cannot tear your eyes away.

“I told you it was interesting.” He folds his hand over yours. “You really should have watched. I almost got it right this time.”

There is the usual mess. Fleshy and fluid things, undulating slightly, with holes that open up as if to scream but make no sound. The vague suggestions of limbs, on some, nothing but huddled slimy masses remaining of others. Eye sockets, empty, migrated into strange places. Colors and textures stolen from the insides and outsides of human bodies, so that you can’t for a moment forget what you’re looking at. That’s usually all that there is. And it’s enough to send your guts crawling up the walls of your throat, all on its own.

But the one there -

It is not moving at all. And it has eyes. Glazed. And it has limbs, twisted off at the ends, but clearly four, clearly only half-heartedly destroyed. And it has lips. And teeth. And they are stretched out in a grimace, pasted-on even after its heart stopped pumping blood to the muscles of its face, even after its chest caved in and its lungs burst out from under the wreckage and the rest of its head fell away -

“I’m getting very good at making copies.” He leans his head against your shoulder. “Your body is easy…it’s just your face that’s hard. But that one had a face kind of like yours to begin with, so I did okay.” His grip on your hand tightens. “Not perfect, though. So I had to get rid of it.”

The mouth does not look familiar. Not anymore. But the eyes, lifeless as they are -

“I’ll show you once I get it right,” he sighs. “Once I make one look exactly like you. And then you can tell me how you want me to fix it, and once we’ve got it all figured out”-

You retch. But everything stays inside. You wrap your free arm around your waist for a moment, and then snatch it away, repulsed for reasons you don’t entirely understand.

“Don’t worry, cutie. It won’t take too many more.” Mahito lifts his hand from yours and turns towards you. “I wouldn’t mind if it did, though.” You look at him, if only to avoid looking at the other things in the room, and watch as he smiles back at you. His head is tilted, eyes shining, mouth closed. He stares at you for far too long, and slowly, slowly, his lips curl back, revealing the bleach-white grin underneath. “For you…I wouldn’t mind doing anything.”

You don’t see him move, not through the spots of black in your eyes and the haze of blood that’s rushed to your head. But you feel yourself falling, feel your back hit the ground, and feel him flattening himself on top of you. You feel every inch of your body where it presses back against his. And you feel radiating, all-consuming disgust at every place where you connect.

“If you want to stay like this,” he murmurs, “forever, that’s okay too. I’ll change you, or I’ll keep you the same…you’ll be my favorite human no matter what.”

You do not want to stay like this, trapped in your skin as he worms his way over and beneath it. But that isn’t the question, and the answer - that it doesn’t matter what body you panic inside of, or what, exactly, he touches, that nothing will make it better -

Even if you tried to say it, he’d swallow it up before a single word made it off your tongue.

#mahito x reader #yandere mahito #tw noncon #tw body horror #tw body image #tw dark content

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marine-corps-strong · 2 days

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Appreciate all the tags @m0tiv8me @bloodybucket-28 @showervixen @nicaliciousxo @lucky-jewels however I am out of action. Feeling really rundown and tired. I was peeing all Sunday night to Monday afternoon. Headaches and back ache. So finally at 5:00 Monday afternoon I go to the emergency room. What a nightmare sat there for 4 hours and never got seen. I was livid because I was feeling l like crap. I figured Iight as well go home. Then calledy urologist haven't seen him in two years so I am considered a new patient. I can't see him for 3 weeks. Holy shit like what are you suppose to do when feeling like crap. No one can see you or help you.....🥺🥺 Plus I have great insurance and no one can take care of me. This government needs to get there head out of there ass.

#sick #battling

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buddierecs · 2 days

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hurt/comfort buddie fics.

all of these are general audience, teen and up or not rated (no smut) make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

a leaf falls on loneliness (highly recommend this fic!!) by: iimpossible_things "buck doesn’t think that if he were to say, “i’m in a bad place”, that anyone would turn him away. really, he doesn’t. the 118 has too many good, kind people for that. but every time he wants to open his mouth, to say something, to reach out to eddie or bobby or hen or chim, he hears eddie yelling, “you’re exhausting.” —you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting— so each day he does his job and he laughs and he jokes and he pretends he’s the care-free goofball he’s always been. And each day he packs away his bruises and his worries, takes them home to his empty loft with its quiet rooms, and licks his wounds in silence." word count: 11k important tags: angst, fluff, happy ending, orginal male character blue skies by: spaceprincessem "buck meets another savior baby and everything comes crashing down" word count: 36k important tags: my sisters keeper au, original characters, ptsd, nightmares, emotional whump, evan buckley break down, getting together and i'm not good at winning fights anymore by: spaceprincessem "five times buck needs to feel eddie's heartbeat and the one time eddie needs to feel his" word count: 24k important tags: 5+1 things, whump, protective!eddie diaz, getting together, soft boys in love, ptsd give your heart and soul to charity by: 42hrb "eddie dumps god, gets some more therapy, accepts parts of himself he was taught to hate, loves his best friend, and loves himself" word count: 12k important tags: emotional hurt/comfort, pov eddie diaz, character study, catholic guilt, therapy, pining, getting together i could find you darling, in any life by: justhockey "buck and eddie meet in afghanistan. it changes everything." word count: 27k important tags: diferent first meeting au, army!eddie diaz, navy seal!evan buckley, emotional infidelity, slow burn, hurt/comfort, love confessions catharsis by: rogerzsteven "it only takes one minor inconvenience for buck to have his long overdue breakdown" word count: 5.3k important tags: emotional hurt/comfort, mental/emotional breakdown, bobby nash as evan buckley parent, multiple pov stay by: soft_satan buck’s voice was soft and hesitant, but full of patience when he finally spoke again. “did I do something to upset you, chris? i can leave—” "no!” chris whirled on him, a complete shift from the standoffish vibe he had been giving a second ago. the tears he bravely held back finally broke free from his eyes, sliding down his rosy cheeks from behind his glasses. he shook his head vehemently, the yellow crayon falling to the table. “no, I’m not mad. please…” his words turned to whimpers, his lip trembling. “please don’t leave me too.” word count: 31k important tags: whump, angst, family feels, found family, getting together, team as family

habits by: whileyouresleeping "buck's not sure what's going on when eddie starts kissing him on the head after a rough call, only now it's a thing, and it's a thing buck would very much like to continue if he knew what it meant." word count: 4.9k important tags: tooth-rotting fluff, mild hurt/comfort stick with you by soft_satan "eddie licked his dry lips as he reached for his radio, trying to keep his movements slow and delicate to prevent any more damage to himself or buck. “diaz to captain nash.” “go for nash,” came bobby’s quick reply. “you two okay? where are you?” “we’re in a bit of a sticky situation here…” “we’re a shish kabob, cap!” buck chimed in. eddie rolled his eyes" word count: 5.9k important tags: impalements, whump, getting together, love confessions, hurt!buddie still by: brewsrosemilk "for the first time, buck longs for a bullet wound to treat. dirt to dig at. a door to break through. something. there’s nothing. “your guess was correct, diaz,” the bomb technician tells them, as he gestures to the orange circle. “you’re standing on a large sensor plate, wired to a detonator. It’s incredibly important that you don’t move. don’t shift. when you put your weight down, it was like cocking a gun - you take your weight off, this thing is powerful enough to take the entire house with it." word count: 9.3k important tags: near death experience, love confessions, happy ending, first kiss

be my baby (i'll look after you) by: youdrewstarsaroundmyscars118 "buck finally breaks down after fixing everyone but himself" word count: 1.5k important tags: nightmares, ptsd, panic attacks, pet names, cuddling, pre-relationship, almost love confession i was made for you by: youdrewstarsaroundmyscars118 "buck’s taking care of christopher while eddie is in texas when chris gets sick and has to get surgery." word count: 5.3k important tags: sick!christopher diaz, parent evan buckley, hospitals, bobby nash is evan buckley's parent, getting together, 118 crew as family i know you're hurting (but so am i) by: justhockey "eddie understands better than maybe anyone else ever could, how it feels to have everything unravel in the palm of your hands. he knows frustration - he knows fury. he’s painfully familiar with that burning rage that crackles in the tips of your fingers, that makes your skin hot and chest tight, and makes you want to punch anyone that dares to even look at you. but that doesn’t give chim the right to lay a damn hand on buck" word count: 3.7k important tags: ptsd, feelings realisation, protective!eddie diaz, communication, 5x04 coda of bikes and concussions by: datleggy "buck gets into an accident on his way to work in the morning, and before he can explain why he's late, he gets thoroughly chewed out and the rest of his day goes way downhill from there." word count: 7.6k important tags: injured!evan buckley, misunderstandings, father-son relationship (buck and bobby), team as family it's okay by: itsmylifekay "buck gets hurt on a call and doesn’t tell anyone." word count: 11k important tags: injury, dissociation, buck needs a hug love language by: whileyouresleeping "eddie's love language is acts of service, and buck doesn't totally get it." word count: 6.4k important tags: mild hurt/comfort, pining, fluff, friends to lovers don't go without me by: ingu "there was a snap, and a crack, and buck was suddenly weightless. the car, the tree, eddie, everything was falling. buck was falling. falling." word count: 31k important tags: major character injury, pining, team as family, whump, love confessions, getting together accidental (please check tw!!) by: rosefield "post lawsuit, buck accidentally cuts his arm. he decides that maybe not getting help is best for everyone." word count: 36k important tags: depression, suicide attempt, post-lawsuit, worried!eddie diaz, happy ending

check out the recs for mature rating hurt/comfort fics :)

#will definitely be doing a pt2 for this trope #911 fandom #911 show #911 abc #911 fox #buddie smut #buddie fic #evan buckley #book tropes #buck x eddie #evan buck buckely #buck x eddie fic #eddie diaz #hurt/comfort fics #hurt/comfort #ao3feed #ao3 link #ao3

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silenzahra · 3 days

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The content that I'm bringing next ✨

I thought I could give you a hint of the content I'm preparing in order to bring it during this week and next month! I'm taking my time to create it all, so that's why it's not gonna be posted right away, but I hope you'll like to read everything as I share it! 💖

I'll start with some regular posts and then I'll focus on my writing 🥰

-Get to know me. I mentioned a while back that I thought it'd be fine to share a little bit of myself with you so you can get to know me a bit better, and I'm currently working on this one and trying to think of as many things as possible so as to make it, you know... interesting? 😅 I don't really know how to describe it, but in any case, it's in the works!

-A masterpost. Just like the first one, I also mentioned that I'd like to create one at last, as I've posted a few stories and two headcanon posts already, and I want you guys to find them as easily as possible whenever you'd like to. This is gonna take a bit longer, because Tumblr's search tool doesn't work very well 😬 But I'll manage! 💪

-My pending asks. This is a bit embarrassing... I've had some asks waiting for a reply for months now and I'm so sorry that I've kept you waiting for so long 😅 Here's a promise: as soon as I've posted at least one of my pending fics (more about this below), I'll start gradually and slowly answering all the asks that I have left. I wanna give each and every one of you the proper replies you deserve, which is why I warned that I'd take some time, but that's one thing. Taking forever is very different and I'm truly so sorry 😅

-May and June calendars. Don't know if you've seen some of my calendar posts, but I happen to have two Nintendo calendars for this year and I've been showing them since January (here's the February one since I can't find the others lol), but sometimes I simply forget to share the one for the new month and it gets delayed... Shame on me again 😅 I intend to show May this week since it's technically still May, and I'll make sure to not let many days of June pass before I show the ones corresponding to that month 🥰

-Tons of reblogs! I've already started doing this actually, as I've been tagged in a lot of amazing content, and even if I'm slow, I wanna see everything and leave proper feedback when I have the chance 🥰 Thank you again to those of you who tagged me! And for your patience as well 🫂💖💖

And now... let's talk about...

✨📝 MY WRITING 📝✨

-My Kitsune/Tanooki story. This one is coming soon, and when I say soon, I mean this week! 😁 I would've liked to post it mid May, but life wouldn't let me, but hey, better late than never! 🥰 I'm now in the process of editing and I intend to start translating tomorrow, and that usually doesn't take long, so you can expect this one at the end of the week 👀 Hope you'll like it! 💖

-Anything for him: Chapter 3. As I've mentioned a few times, this last chapter is long overdue and I'm ashamed that I'm taking SO long to finish it as I know very well what's going to happen! 😅 Still, once my Kitsune/Tanooki fic is up, this is the next thing I intend to fully work on, and even though I'm not sure to give a specific date, I would like to post it in June at last. Wish me luck in achieving this! 🤞🤞🤞

-Post-nightmare cuddles fic. Okay, it's been a few months already, but... anyone remember this writing prompt? I happened to receive a couple of suggestions in my inbox, and even though I wrote and posted the first one back in March, I wasn't able to finish the second one as I wasn't in the mood for angst when I first tried. But that's changed! 🤩 I'm CRAVING to write some angst, so this is gonna be the third thing on my writing list, and, again, I'd like to post it in June. I'll let you know if I succeed! 🤞🤞🤞

Also, if you're curious, you can read the other prompt here 👇

-And last but not least... did anyone say...

... an AU? 🤔

Yyyyyyes! That's right! 😁 I've recently started working on my very first AU and I am SO happy 🤩 I'm really SO excited about this one! I don't know yet how long it'll take until I'm ready to start posting it, but this is the thing that I mentioned yesterday that I keep getting new ideas for almost every single day 🤩

I'm not gonna say yet what it's based on, as I want it to be a surprise when I finally start sharing it with you guys, but it contains EVERYTHING that I love and that many of you love as well, so... I believe you'll like this one when it's ready 🤭 Maybe when I work a bit more on it and see a release date coming closer I'll go and tell you what it's about, but for now... I'll just keep working on it and enjoying every single word that I'm writing 😁

I really hope you'll like all of this once I start sharing it! As you see, I'm a big fan of making lists 😂 That's the way I usually organize everything that I have to do every day and such, and I thought that maybe sharing this, I'll have it a bit easier to focus and really bring all of it to this blog, even if I'm slow. Still, just know that I'm truly enjoying the process of creating not only the written fics (and the AU 🤭), but also the posts that I wanna bring soon 🥰

If you read everything, thank you! I know I tend to talk a lot lol, so I really appreciate it! Love you so much! 💖💖💖

#future content #the posts that I'm bringing #the fics I'm working on #new story coming this week #new fic coming this week #my very first AU #an AU is coming soon!#I'm seriously so excited 🤩#I hope you'll like it! as well as the fics and the posts that I'll bring!#thank you again if you read everything #I talk too much 😅#hope you're looking forward to all of this though!#super mario bros #new mario content coming soon #my fics #my writing #silenzahra

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vodika-vibes · 3 days

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"Do you want to see them suffer? Do you want to make them bleed?" Chi-Chi ft. LEECHY – "Sit and wait"

___

Guess it might be called mystic!au. Exploring the ancient cult of Brother Deities, which includes thousands of one-faced gods, the reader gets the jackpot – an instruction for summoning Sev – cruel bloody deity. According to the text, summoning him might be dangerous to the one who performs the ritual, but what can the reader do with her explorer interest? The ritual demands the cow skull, red silk cloth, any form of fire and the blood of the virgin, luckily, reader is one. She doesn't really believe it's about to work, but here she is – Sev is in front of her, tall, athletic, wearing only the given cloth and skull. He's quite excited because noone called for him for centuries as the cult went forgotten.

Overwhelmed reader finds nothing better than asking an ancient powerful deity to become her boyfriend and take her virginity.

And maybe to fix some world problems using the might of the Brother Deities, but this can wait.

Hard To Kill

Summary: You’re a low ranking member of the ExploraCorps, a group of adventurers whose job it is to wander far and wide while looking for mystical items to help the Empire thrive. As a low ranking member, you spend most of your time alone. Your current mission, investigate the legends of the millions of the same faced gods, and determine if there is any truth to the stories.

Pairing: Clone Commando Sev x F!Reader

Word Count: 2851

Warnings: Smut

Prompt: Mystic AU - Reader is essentially Lara Croft.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So, I'm not sure if I got the vibe you were going for, but I kind of really like this one. The idea is so clever. Thanks for your request!

When you were first assigned the mission of the same faced gods, you thought that it was a hazing ritual. Every new person to the ExploraCorps is assigned this myth. And every new person returns several months later with nothing to show for it, save for new scars and new nightmares.

Still, when your boss tells you that the case is yours, you don’t really have the option to say anything other than, “yes sir, thank you sir.”

So here you are, deep in the middle of a forest, following a half translated map to the place where a temple is supposed to be.

Honestly, you don’t expect to find anything.

Surely, if there’s any truth to this legend someone else would have found it by now.

You duck under a fallen tree and climb over a large rock, before you glance at the map, and turn towards the river that you can hear but not see. You swing the beam from your flashlight across the ground, making sure that you’re not going to step on anything that might kill you, and then you start walking again.

All you have to do is go to the location where the temple is supposed to be. When the temple isn’t there, then you can call back to ExploraCorps HQ and tell them that the mission was a bust, and that you’re coming home.

You turn around a tree and stop as the forest comes to an abrupt end.

A man-made clearing, nothing in nature is this perfectly created after all, and there, in the middle, a massive temple. You glance at your map, and then up at the stone building, and then back at the map.

This can’t be right. According to the map, you’re still at least an hour walk away from the actual temple.

You absently bite your fingernail, as you consider your options, before you slide the map into your pack, and walk through the clearing to the temple.

The stone is covered in soft moss, which explains why no one would have seen it, even from above, though, as you reach the door, you note that it slides to the side with ease. As if it’s been used recently.

Though, as you peer into the small room (there’s no way that this is a ritual chamber, it’s far, far too small-) you can’t help but notice the cobwebs and that wild animals seem to have made this room their home.

You make sure that the door won’t slide shut, and then you step into the room. The walls are covered with shelves, and all of the shelves are filled with tightly bound scrolls.

You don’t dare touch them, depending on their age, they might very well crumble to dust if you try to touch them. So instead you just sweep the light from your flashlight across them and keep your distance.

However, on a pedestal in the center of the room, is a scroll. It’s already open, and you note that the scroll itself is still legible. You squint at the writing, slowly translating it as best as you can.

And then your breath catches in your throat.

If you’re translating this right, this is a summoning ritual to summon a war deity. It’s a very clear list too. No room for mistranslations.

A cow skull. Easy, there’s one sitting on the shelf over there. It’s old, but a quick scan tells you that it’s in one piece.

A red silk cloth. Also easy, mother gave you a red silk scarf when you were chosen for the ExploraCorps, that should work alright.

Fire. Easiest of them all, a lighter is part of your survival pack.

Blood of a virgin. Well, you’re still a virgin, and your blood has never been used in a ritual before, so you have that covered regardless of what it means. Though, it doesn’t say how much blood is needed.

Lastly, on the list is the time of day. The summoning needs to be completed at midnight on a new moon. Slightly more problematic, on account that the new moon is still two weeks away. But, even so, that will give you enough time to read over this, and some of the sturdier looking scrolls, to prepare yourself for the summoning.

Technically, the rules indicate that low ranking members of the corps are not supposed to perform rituals. But, well, you’ve always been a proponent of asking for forgiveness is better than asking for permission.

You sweep your gaze around the small room one more time, and then turn to head back outside. Policy dictates that you’re not supposed to sleep inside any of these old places because it’s not safe.

You hesitate at the door and look around one more time. Surely there won’t be any issue with you camping inside, just for the couple of weeks it’ll take for the new moon to arrive? Better to have some shelter, especially in a place like this, where the weather can be unpredictable and violent.

The idea rolls around your mind for a moment as you step out of the small building to go and grab your pack. You seriously consider your options for a moment, and then you turn back to the temple. It’s not like anyone will know.

Decision made, you head back inside and unpack your camp. A small camping stove, your sleeping bag, and the sleeping mat that makes sleeping on stone slightly more tolerable. And then you pick up the scroll with the summoning ritual on it, and you start reading it properly.

That night, as you lay on your back in your sleeping bag, hovering on the edge of slumber, though not quite there yet, your mind drifts.

Once upon a time, there were multiple governments on this planet. One for each nation. Sometimes more than one for each nation. There was so much conflict and so much war.

And then Palpatine came.

Over the years, he took more and more power, consolidating all of it in himself. And then he toppled the local governments, and named himself Emperor.

Your father claims that Palpatine is doing a good thing, everyone has a job, everyone has money and food and medicine they need to survive. Everyone gets an education. Your father claims that Palpatine is a fine leader.

You’re not so sure.

You’ve known since you were a child that you were slated for the ExploraCorps. It was decided when you were six years old and were finally old enough to take the placement test. Your education has been geared to that since that day.

You learned history, and mysticism, and myths and legends. You learned languages and archeology and paleontology. You learned wayfinding, and how to survive when alone, and how to fight. You learned everything you needed to learn to thrive as a member of the ExploraCorps.

But you’ve also been privy to things that other people haven’t been.

You’ve seen the prison work camps, where people who disagree with Palpatine’s rule spend their lives slaving away. You’ve seen evidence of what happened to Palpatine’s political prisoners, men and women who were whisked away and starved and tortured and, ultimately, murdered.

And you’ve heard rumors of Palpatine’s Gladiators, criminals who are forced to fight and kill for the Emperor’s amusement.

Not to mention, the reason the ExploraCorps exists at all is sickening. It’s an open secret that you’re all looking for the secret to immortality for Palpatine. Or, barring that, some kind of mystical weapon that he can wield against the people.

Palpatine would see you all dead and enslaved.

Your eyes flutter closed as sleep finally grips you. And you’re last thought before you drift off to sleep is that it’s stupid that Palpatine thinks he needs more power to enslave the planet's population. After all, you’re all already slaves.

Two weeks later, it’s finally time.

Over the two weeks, you’ve managed to read a small number of the scrolls, and you’ve managed to find the ritual circle. It makes a fair amount of sense that it’s located under the room that you’ve been sleeping in.

The stairs had just been completely overgrown with vines and briars, which is why you didn’t see it right away.

You’re a little nervous about the summoning. There are so many ways that this can go wrong. Especially since you’ve since learned that you’re going to summon a bloody war deity.

But, even so, your excitement is shoving the anxiety to the side.

The thrill of the unknown, of learning and experiencing things that other people never would, it’s why you were chosen for the ExploraCorps in the first place. For all of Palpatine’s faults, and he has many, the career assignments worked in your favor.

You shove the thoughts out of your head and slowly go about setting up the ritual. A fire, lit in the middle of the circle. The red silk scarf and cow’s skull sitting on the opposite side of the fire from you, and several drops of blood in a stone bowl that you found in the ritual room, and then proceeded to sterilize to hell and back again.

Then you take several steps back, so you’re outside of the circle, and you lower your lighter to the oil filled divet in the ground. Fire spreads quickly, jumping high and blocking your sight, as the room fills with controlled flame.

For a moment, nothing happens. And then there’s a presence, something large and heavy, like a boulder on your chest, and then the weight is gone as suddenly as it appeared, and all of the fire goes out.

You blink at the sudden, all encompassing, darkness and blindly grab for your lantern, flipping the switch to give you some light.

The ritual chamber fills with the soft, warm, glow of your lamp, and once more, your breath catches in your throat.

It worked.

There, standing in the middle of the circle, is a man. Tall and broad, with dark skin and dark hair. He’s totally naked, save for the red scarf wrapped around his waist to protect his modesty, and he’s holding the skull in his hands.

He turns his gaze to you, and you can’t help but notice that his eyes flicker with the orange of the flame used to summon him, before it settles into a deep brown color.

“It has been many years since someone has summoned me,” He says, his voice low and gravelly as he steps out of the circle and advances on you. His dark eyes scan you, and you find yourself at a loss for words.

You weren’t expecting him to be handsome.

He reaches out and takes some of your hair between his fingers, “You are not one of the priests who normally summon me. I have no priestesses.” He finally says.

“I…” You nervously lick your lips, and you heat as his gaze drops to your lips, “I’m not a priestess. I’m a researcher.”

“Is that right?” His hand moves to lightly grip your chin, his skin is warm, “You summoned me, which makes you a priestess now.” He adds, amusement clear in his voice. “Whose blood did you use to summon me?”

“My own.”

He chuckles, the noise a pleasant rumble that gives you goosebumps, “Then you are definitely my priestess now.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.” You admit, honestly, “The scrolls weren’t clear.”

“They rarely are.” He releases your chin and lightly presses his hand against the base of your throat.

He’s massive, it would be so easy for him to hurt you, to kill you. But strangely, you feel safe. Safer than you’ve ever felt before. You should push him away, call your boss, tell them that you found definitive proof of the same faced deities. But, looking up at him, you don’t want to. You don’t want to share him. “What’s your name?” You ask.

“Sev. My name is Sev.” His thumb brushes against the pulse point on your neck, and you hope that he doesn’t notice how rapidly your heart is racing. “And what should I call you, my pretty little priestess.”

You offer him your name freely, and he repeats your name with a reverence that makes you shiver. A shiver that Sev notices, based on a small smirk that crosses his face.

“So tell me, my priestess,” there’s something deeply possessive in the way he refers to you as his, and you probably shouldn’t find it half as attractive as you do, “Why have you summoned me?”

The truth sits on the tip of your tongue. You almost tell him about the standing orders from Palpatine, about the reason for the ExploraCorps…but it’s not actually the truth, is it?

Because the truth is, if you were actually following orders, you never would have summoned him. You would have called your boss, and this whole area would be an ExploraCorps dig site.

But you didn’t do any of that.

“I…I’m lonely.” You whisper.

Sev’s hand moves from your throat to press against your cheek, “Well, I can help with that.” His lips are against yours before you can question what he means.

You submit to him immediately, parting your lips for him as he slides his tongue against your lips. He maps out the inside of your mouth with his tongue, and you moan into the kiss.

Sev breaks the kiss, and he effortlessly lifts you into his arms, as though you weigh nothing. You can’t help the startled squeak as you fling your arms around his neck and hook your legs around his waist for balance. And then you gasp as you feel his erection brush against you.

He walks you out of the ritual room, up the stairs and into the room that you’ve been living in for the last couple of weeks. Sev roughly pushes everything off of the stone table, and sits you on the edge, before he releases you.

His dark eyes are glimmering with orange flame again, as he presses his thumb against your lips. Your gaze locks with his as you lightly lick his thumb. Someone the flame in his eyes burns brighter, and he presses his thumb into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue.

“My Priestess,” He murmurs, and then a growl escapes from his throat as you suck on this thumb. Sev rips his hand away from your face, hunger written into every line on his body, and tugs the red scarf away from his body, revealing his rock hard erection. “Strip. Now.”

You’ve never been one for orders, but you’ve never wanted to follow an order so badly in your entire life. With shaking hands, you tug off all of your clothes, pausing only when Sev’s large hands move to your chest to cup your breasts as soon as they’re exposed.

“Keep going,” Sev orders as he pinches your nipples, lightly at first, and then applying more and more pressure until you release a mewling little moan. But you are able to finish tugging your clothes off, until you’re totally bare in front of him.

Immediately, one of his hands dips between your legs, zeroing in on your clit and applying enough pressure that your hips jerk towards him without your permission. Your hands fly to his forearms, just to have something to hold onto, to ground you.

“Mine,” Sev growls as he plunges two fingers deep into your pussy, “All mine. Mine to use. Mine to protect.” You release a cry of pleasure as he scissors his fingers, rolling your hips to try and pull him deeper. “My priestess.”

Just as you’re on the edge of your orgasm, he pulls his fingers out of you, and you release a cry of dismay. “Sev-” You’re almost in tears, “Please-”

“Shhh,” He coos as he kisses the crest of your cheek, “You’ll get what you deserve, my priestess.” Sev trails his lips to catch yours in a heated kiss, “After you give me what I want. And I want your pretty lips around my cock.”

You blink at him, and Sev smirks.

“Worship me on your knees, my perfect priestess, and I’ll give you everything you want.” Sev promises.

With his help, you get to your feet and sink to your knees. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and press a light kiss to the head of his weeping cock.

“Good girl,” Sev murmurs, his praise washing through you and making you whine softly. “Patience, my priestess. I won’t leave you wanting.”

And you believe him, so you part your lips and take the head of his cock between your lips and suck gently. You feel his hand fist in your hair, not directing you, but holding you, reminding you that he’s there. And you relax into your actions.

Later. Later you’ll tell Sev about the state of the world. He’ll pass word onto his brothers. Later, the same faced deities will save everyone.

But that’s later.

For now there’s you and there’s him, and nothing else matters.

#star wars #tcw #star wars au #vodika-vibes 650 event #clone commando sev x reader #sev x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #18+ fic #nsft #mystic au #answered asks

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josephseedismyfather · 11 hours

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Thank you @cloudofbutterflies92, @inafieldofdaisies, @harmonyowl and @socially-awkward-skeleton for tagging me! 🥰

Will be posting for all 3 babes, going to cut it under Harley.

Harley Jane ❤️ (contains spoilers)

Evangeline Rose 💛 (contains spoilers)