#thank you for coming home twice king
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Happy Late Birthday to my Duke 🐺
#vivillaart#wriosthesley#genshin art#happy birthday wriothesley#thank you for coming home twice king
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LE TEMPS DE L'AMOUR!
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
summary: where he spoil his girlfriend of anything aside from love on the special day of the week.
a/n: it supposed to be posted yesterday, but since my ethernet is kinda bloopy, and it erases my draft for this too, so i had to make it twice. but anyway i hope you enjoyed it!
vday series masterlist
now playing: françoise hardy — le temps de l'amour
yourusername added a photo to their story! 29m
seen by charles_leclerc, taylorhill, and 749,681 others
charles_leclerc
liked by damianodavid, and 750,368 others
charles_leclerc Flower girl 💐
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yourusername oh i'm literally feeling so spoiled with this, thank you, cha🫶🏻 ilysm
username She's looking so smol like that 🤏
username ah to be posted by charles is gonna be my dream forever
username she's so lucky
username Why am I visiting his account on this type of day😭😭
username when will i find this man in my life
danielricciardo Tell me the location, I'm omw
⤷ charles_leclerc Buying for Heidi, I see.
⤷ danielricciardo No, it's for Max
⤷ username WAKE UP MAXIEL NATION
⤷ username what the—
yourusername
liked by gracieabrams, and 950,824 others
yourusername don't u love it when your boyfriend does 🤨
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oliviarodrigo SO CUTE????
username we're coming back again with paparazzi y/n
username AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHH
⤷ username so #real
username They're on a mission on driving people crazy on this type of month
username idk whose dog but OMG SO CUTE
landonorris okay then valentine family.
⤷ maxfewtrell Alright, let's go home, Grandpa
⤷ username GRANDPA😭😭😭
username Since when did his side profile become this attractive??????
⤷ maxverstappen1 Since then
⤷ danielricciardo It's no surprise that you're here, but commenting about Charles?! 😔
⤷ yourusername omg max look what did u do to my man danny
yourusername
liked by haileestainfeld, and 646,444 others
yourusername 🩷
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charles_leclerc I hope you liked it, sweetie
⤷ yourusername LIKED?? I LOVED IT!!!!!
jennierubyjane You're an angel
username she's feeding us for this entire time is soo good i love it
username That massive heart ice cream looks really deli shoes
isahernaez The prettiest woman! 😍
⤷ yourusername you melt me like this ice cream on a hot summer sun
⤷ isahernaez 😚
⤷ charles_leclerc Whys betrayal always starts from Instagram?
⤷ username charles drama king is back again
lilymhe You didn't share the ice cream with me... 💔😔
radvxz You're gorgeous gorgeous
username i feel like charles should make a jpg account for his and y/n moments
⤷ maxverstappen1 And not for me?
this comment has been deleted
⤷ username wait i feel like seeing max's comment here
⤷ username dig more, i think it's probably buried along with other comments
⤷ username no he's replying to me and then the next second i check it, it's gone
⤷ danielricciardo You need to check it deeper.
username make up tut next time queen
yourusername
liked by franciscac.gomes, and 647,581 others
yourusername is this a bribe?
view all 2,763 comments
pierregasly Yes and stay away from it
username WITH A DOLLAR ON THE DOOR HANDLE I'M CRYING 😭😭😭😭😭
username the dollar is so random
⤷ username that's not a dollar, that's a coupon
username isa's comment is definitely brewed something in him
username the way that he immediately got her a bouquet is so funny to me
nicolezefanya I can literally hear what is he going to say to you
username i just know that was charles just based off his weird standing posture
⤷ username and his odd fashion too
⤷ maxverstappen1 We're kinda matching in that way, don't you guys think?
⤷ danielricciardo WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS ENDED UP IN CHARLES RELATED COMMENTS????
⤷ jackdoohan Someone's jealooouusssss
yourusername
liked by carlossainz55, and 792,480 others
yourusername happy valentine's day from me and my best boyfriend in the whole wide world<33 love you alllllll
view all 4,618 comments
pierregasly You didn't stay away, did you?
⤷ yourusername nope, not even a bit
username 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
lailahasanovic this absolutely warms my heart
username ‘will you be my valentine’ RIP MY ASS
username I would launch myself up to him too if my boyfriend is him
joris__trouche Congrats to you, Lovebirds!
⤷ username based on the shakiness, i know it's joris who took this one
username somebody push me off a cliff😭😭😭
username they really hate seeing us free
username we're literally got drunk in this valentine day posts💀
username i feel like this truly is a revenge for isa's comment😭 poor her...
maxverstappen1 THAT SHOULD BE ME
⤷ danielricciardo And that also should be me who you wanted
2 comments has been deleted
username NONONO I SWEAR I SEE DANIEL AND MAX FIGHTING
⤷ username alright let's drink your pills granny
danielricciardo You guys are so cute!
⤷ yourusername how is it going with the man?
⤷ danielricciardo Still trying, but I got it
⤷ yourusername you better be
TWITTER, AROUND 4 HOURS AFTER THE POST:
charles_leclerc
liked by sabrinacarpenter, and 1,469,835 others
charles_leclerc My Valentine's day with you are always been the best, I love you❤️ yourusername
view all 3,621 comments
username she's so stunning, no wonder he pulled her
⤷ username leclerc siblings are never pulled a bad one. they definitely has a quite similar taste in woman
yourusername you're the sweetest! i love love love love love you so much❤️❤️
username she look so good! what type of dress is that??
livkatecooke STUNNING!!!!
estebanocon That cake is looking so delicious
landonorris you guys suited valentine's day, ngl
username PARENTS 😍
danielricciardo We should do a double date!
⤷ yourusername have you get along with him?
⤷ danielricciardo I definitely have 😄😄
⤷ charles_leclerc I have a bad feelings about this.
anadearmas 🫶🏻🫶🏻
dovecameron I love love her fits so much
#✶!#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc smau#f1 fluff#f1 imagines#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#coral sky
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ooooo what abt for blurbcember being alone on Christmas Eve w Steve x reader & once one of them realizes they are alone when they called they speed over and spend the night together, maybe confess some feelings too👀
hope you like it!! — you call steve when you end up alone on christmas eve and he comes over without thinking twice, 'cause that's what best friends are for, right? (friends in love, hurt/comfort, 1.4k)
blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚
Just a moment ago, Steve Harrington was on his couch. He had an arm around his girlfriend and a scruffy cheek on her hair as they watched A Christmas Story for the third time that evening. His dad was snoring over it from his spot on the recliner while mom watched on from the kitchen, where she’d just popped in another batch of cookies.
Everything smelled like vanilla. Like home and the holiday season.
Then the phone rang. His mother picked it up, hiding her wine-drunk slurs as she answered. It was for him, of course, because it was you. “Feel like spending Christmas Eve getting drunk with me, Harrington?” you’d ask through the static of the receiver.
It’s like he blinked and he was in your childhood bedroom, splitting a bottle of your dad’s expensive liquor with you in your twin-sized bed.
The too-big house down the street was dark and empty, with you abandoned inside of it. The entire mansion was horribly clean — too clean — like no one actually lived there. The only Christmas decoration in the whole place was the tiny Christmas tree on your dresser. It basks the two of you in a golden hue while you laugh together in similar colors.
“So your parents just… left you here?” Steve presses, lying on his side at the edge of your mattress, propping his weight on his elbow.
You nod and take a swig from the glass bottle. Your lips shine with the amber liquid until you swipe your tongue against your buzzing bottom lip. “Holiday party at the Carmichael’s. No kids allowed,” you answer. You manage to smile as you say it — ‘cause you haven’t been a kid for a while — but it’s still slightly forced.
Steve can see right through it.
“Still,” he insists with a furrow to his brow as he takes the bottle from you. “That’s really shitty.”
“Well, my parents are basically the king and queen of being shitty, so…”
Steve scoffs an emotionless laugh and raises the whiskey to his lips. The thing glugs when he tips it back. He takes a small sip, just enough to coat his tongue, because he knows he’ll have to go back home eventually. He licks at his shining rosy lips, just to feel how numb they are.
“Your parents are shitty, and mine are… total fakes,” he concludes with a lopsided, sorrowful grin.
“Drunk enough to vent yet?” you tease, smiling down at him with your cheek tilted to your shoulder.
“No— I mean, there’s… there’s nothing to vent about, you know? They’re just, like, putting on happy faces for everyone at the party like they weren’t totally falling apart two days ago. Now it’s just like… nothing ever happened.”
You figure by “nothing to vent about,” he means that there’s a world of shit to vent about but that he doesn’t really feel like getting into any of it. You don’t blame him. He’s not the one who called his best friend on the very brink of falling apart, anyway.
“Is that what you were doing when I called?”
He nods, blinking slow and smiling soft. “Thanks for saving me, by the way.”
“Bet you’re missing loads of fun right now, Harrington.”
“Yeah, right,” he scoffs and passes the whiskey off to you. “Right now, my dad’s passed out in his Laz-E-Boy, and my mom’s watching the same Christmas movie over and over and over again.”
The visual makes you laugh.
Steve laughs because you are.
“Yeah. I mean, Nancy’s into it, I guess, but that’s just because she’s way too nice to—”
“Nancy’s there?” you blurt before you mean to, gaping with a shock you couldn’t hide if you wanted to. You thought he might’ve been as lonely as you were. You figured that’s why he dropped everything for you without thinking twice.
Your confusion makes his face screw up. He’s too oblivious to understand. “…Yeah?”
“You said you weren’t doing anything important!”
“It wasn’t important!” he exclaims, right before realizing how insensitive he sounds. He cowers, as though Nancy could somehow hear an entire block away. “Well— Not that she isn’t important— It’s just that—”
He stammers hopelessly. ‘Cause he doesn’t know how to say “you’re more important to me” without sounding like a total douchebag.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he settles on, suddenly shy about the whole thing. His eyes fall to your comforter because it’s easier than meeting your eyes. His fidgeting hands pluck at the tiny pills of cotton.
“Steve…” you whisper in an airy sigh because you don’t know what else to say.
He can’t tell if that’s good or bad, but his name sounds like honey spilling from your lips, anyway.
“Her brother’s there, though! And all his little shithead friends— so it isn’t like she’s totally alone,” he assures you in a single breath. You can’t tell if he’s saying it more for him or for you. “Plus, you said you were here by yourself, so I… I wanted to make sure you weren’t alone.”
“And they say chivalry’s dead,” you tease despite the distinct warmth swirling in your chest.
Steve flashes you a crooked grin to hide his similarly hidden feelings. “Well, whoever said that has never met me. Obviously.”
“You should really go back home, though,” you tell him. It’s not like you want him to leave. You’d rather him be here all the time. You’d rather it always be Steve and never anybody else. But it can’t be like that. It can’t ever be that way.
“What? No!” Steve shouts with his face screwed up in offense. The lights from your Christmas tree leave harsh shadows on his chiseled features, making them that much sharper.
“Your girlfriend’s there, Steve. And all of your friends—”
“Not you, though. And you’re, like, the most important friend I have.”
“Steve,” you groan.
“I’m serious,” he insists, even though he’s laughing at your dramatics. “I’d much rather be here with you than pretending to be happy with everyone else.”
Your chest aches — a dull, hot, and empty ache. It’s like his words are a knife, and he’s just pierced your sternum with it. “You’re not happy?” you ask him in a fragile, broken whisper.
“I mean, I am, I’m just…” he trails off when he can’t find the words to say. He sighs and lays back completely, relaxing for the first time all night beside the warmth of you. His honey eyes concentrate on the shadows on your ceiling until he’s brave enough to speak.
“I don’t know… I love Nancy and everything— you know that. But… I never felt like I had to stop pretending around her, you know? It’s like I’m still trying to impress her. All the time. And with you, it’s just like…”
He loses the words again. Your relationship is much harder for him to describe. The way he feels about you can’t be put into words. He’s not sure that there’s any that even come close.
“I don’t know— It’s just easier,” he concludes with a heavy sigh. “Don’t read into that too much, alright? I’m just tipsy.”
He’s only had a couple sips of alcohol. He’s not even close to being tipsy. He’s content, at best, but you’re probably more to blame than the whiskey.
You know all of this, too, but decide not to press it too much.
“Noted,” you nod, huffing as you lie on your back beside him. His fuzzy Christmas sweater scratches you when it rubs against the skin of your shoulder. You can smell his deep, woodsy cologne and the hot chocolate on his breath. You shouldn’t get as lost in it as you do.
You wonder if he ever has the same problem with you — if the smell of your perfume, or your hair, or your strawberry lipgloss drives him crazy — or if it’s all in your head.
It might be better kept up there, either way.
Saying anything out loud might change things too much.
“But, you know, just for the record or whatever,” you start in a gentle whisper and with a teasing glint in your eye.
Steve’s already smiling when he turns to look at you. He falters slightly when he realizes how close you are — enough to feel your whiskey-coated breath fan against his chin. He doesn’t know why it makes his heart race.
“I’m glad I make it easier on you,” you confess, so suddenly soft, as your sparkling eyes flit between both of his. “‘Cause being with you is easier for me, too.”
Steve’s rosy lips curl into a quiet smile.
His chest sparkles with a foreign emotion, and he isn’t completely sure why. Your words feel almost like a proclamation of love, but maybe he shouldn’t read into any of it too much. Not how gentle your words sound or how you’re looking at him right now.
You’re just tipsy, after all.
#published by bug#steve harrington x reader#stranger things x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fic#stranger things#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#st drabbles#stevie drabble#event: blurbcember
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LOVE HOLD| ⟮private⟯
lando norris x wolff!reader | f1 grid x wolff!reader (mostly)platonic
A/n: just a little peak at y/n private ig account...
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liked by lilymhe, landonorris, susie_wolff and 43 others
noty/n.wolff it all started when my mom met my dad, they fell in love, and they had me! hi, i'm ryan... dude, those are my parents, I came from them, talk about winner genes...
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alex_albon you did not inherit they height though...
↳noty/n.wolff your opinion is irrelevant...
↳charlesleclerc midget😊
↳noty/n.wolff i going over there to cry on my many grand slam trophies from my many wins, comforted in the fact that I'm still number one in the world, not that you guys know what this feel like...
↳charlesleclerc uncalled for...
↳noty/n.wolff don't come for my height and I won't come for your lack of wins🙂
↳landonorris ankle biter
↳noty/n.wolff i am going to ignore you
Aug 12th 2022
liked by lilymhe, landonorris, francisca.cgomes and 65 others
(tagged: francisca.cgomes; charlottesiine; elizaabrams; cassandra.blanchard; benshelton)
noty/n.wolff men ain't shit, like the goddess cher once siad, man are like dessert, you don't need them... stick to your girls (+benny)
btw pierregasly, thank u for introducing me to kika, i think i am keeping her😘
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francisca.cgomes you can keep me😍
↳pierre gasly wait a minute...
↳noty/n.wolff💍alexa play boyfriend by dove cameron
Oct 30th 2022
liked by lilymhe, francisca.cgomes, landonorris, susie_wolff and 52 others
noty/n.wolff go shawty, it's your birthday, we gon' party like it's your birthday... congrats landito! you manage to survive for 23 years, and i am so proud of you! there were a few close calls(at least a few that i witnessed) but you made it! i hope you feel blessed and special, not everyone gets a appreciation post from yours truly🤍
jokes aside...happy birthday lan, i wish you a world of happiness, because you deserve it, thank u for making my life happier by being in it 🤍 we have been in each others lives for nearly fifteen years now, here to more fifteen, i hope you know, through thick and thin, i will always be by your side 🤍😘
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lilymhe I love the third photo, who took it??
↳francisca.cgomes I thought the same when I saw the fourth photo
↳noty/n.wolff 😘
alex_albon just friends, she says
↳georgerussell63 the best of friends, she says
↳alex_albon we are being ignored
↳georgerussell63 I noticed
landonorris❤️❤️❤️
↳noty/n.wolff 🤍🤍🤍
Nov 13th 2022
liked by carlossainz55, francisca.cgomes, landonorris, susie_wolff and 49 others
noty/n.wolff last trip of the year before going home for christmas, touring with local carlossainz55, Madrid may have become one of my favorite cities in the world, thank you the Sainz family for welcoming me and for the 5⭐hospitality, congrats on the newlyweds, beautiful wedding a wish you guys a long and happy life together🤍
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carlossainz55 come back whenever you want
Dec 9th 2022
liked by lilymhe, landonorris, susie_wolff and 43 others
noty/n.wolff Merry Christmas folks🤍
view all 32 comments
Dec 25th 2022
noty/n.wolff half a century + 1 looks good on you🤍 the man who always encouraged me to follow my dreams and do twice as much to make them come true, who never let me give up, and who, even though he couldn't physically be present, never lost any of my matches. #1 dad in the world, best team principal in F1, a example to be followed, I honestly could not wish for a better father.
love u daddy. happy birthday🤍
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susie_wolff you made him emotional
elizaabrams girl sometimes I forget that your dad is the king of dilfs...
(liked by lilymhe, susie_wolff and francisca.cgomes)
noty/n.wolff 👀
Jan 12th 2023
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taglist:@myescapefromthislife | @kapsylia | @biitch-with-wifi |@vicurious28 | @minkyungseokie | @asfaraslifegets
#f1 imagine#lando norris imagine#lando norris#f1 grid x reader#lando norris x reader#lando x reader#lando norris x y/n#pierre gasly x reader#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz x reader
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EXHIBITIONISM: LUFFY x Y/N
original idea by @thevirtualvalentine 💕 thank you so much for letting me play with this scenario! it sparked something sexy in me and i dont think im the same after ☠️
(cw: exhibitionism, sex, dirty talk, slut/whore/bitch, dom!luffy, handcuffs/chains)
(a/n: hhhnnngggg im sooo normal so normal)
Songs: "Sexy Villain" by Remi Wolf
words: 1.5k
“There she fucking is,” Luffy pants, marveling at the sounds you’re making, his hand around your throat. “Thought ya’d never speak up.”
You whimper, moaning against the bars of your cell. Your hands are cuffed in front of you, like Luffy’s, but he’s using the chain of his to pull your hips back against him as he fucks you. The iron digs into your stomach, your torso left bare for all of Udon to see. Jeers come from the neighboring cells.
“No fair! Why don’t we get to see her!?”
“Yeah, make some noise! We wanna hear ya cum!”
“Scream for us, girlie!”
And other profanities are shouted your way. Even the guards are palming themselves at their posts. Your blood boils, anger fighting with lust as the infamous Mugiwara no Luffy fucks you like a toy.
“Ah, fuckin’ listen to them,” Luffy moves from choking you to playing with your tits, pinching harshly at your sensitive nipples. You cry out, and immediately bite your lip. A roar of encouragement comes from your fellow prisoner audience.
“S’hot, isn’t it baby?” He leans forward to lick the shell of your ear. His tongue is hot and strong, just like the rest of him. He sucks at your neck possessively. “‘M takin’ ya home with me,” he murmurs, palming your tits before sliding his hands down to grip your waist. His pace quickens. “Every pirate needs a whore, hah? And the king deserves the best, dontcha think?”
His pace is rapid, now, approaching the first of many climaxes for the night. This has become a sort of routine, with you two. It had started as just flirting, both of you skipping hands over knees, pressing elbows into sides, as you passed each other doing “chores” for the guards.
Then kissing started, snuggled together as much as you could be on the cell floor. And then fucking.
When Luffy fucks, he fucks loud.
It wasn’t a secret for very long, before the surrounding cellmates heard you two going at it like hungry wolves.
And then the cheering started.
It’s a nightly show, almost, kept under wraps by the guards who are too horny to get the two of you to stop. If anyone gets near the cell bars anyway, Luffy fends them off with a wave of conqueror’s haki. And he never lets them touch you during the day. Devil fruit or no, there’s no way he’s letting them get their disgusting hands on you.
Oh, they can jerk off and jeer, for all Luffy cares, but they’re not allowed to touch you. You’re his whore, he decided the first moment you brushed your knuckles along the back of his hand, passing by him in the dusty path. He had felt an electric jolt of want course through him, and one touch of his haki told him you felt the same. It wasn’t long before the two of you started fucking every night.
Now, he slaps your ass with the flat of his hand. Somehow still flexible in his cuffs, he lands another slap, and then another. He lets the dogs outside watching call out a count: all the way to ten. Your ass cheek is tingling. Luffy leans forward again, caressing the spot that now bares his handprint. “Ready for the other side? Hm?” He grins, biting at your ear. “How ‘bout ten more this time?”
You whimper, wiggling your hips back against his pelvis. He slows his pace, just for a bit, letting you fuck yourself back onto his cock. You’re so desperate, for this.
“Yes, sir~!” You moan out, already drunk on the attention. He grunts.
“Hear that?” He asks the crowd, raising his voice enough to be heard, “She wants the other side, now!”
And Luffy spanks your ass twenty times for them. He’s not cruel: he doesn’t hit the same exact spot twice in a row, but god you’re gonna be sore tomorrow. “And it’s captain, bitch,” he murmurs in your ear.
“Yes, captain!” You moan almost immediately, closer to cumming than you’ve ever felt in your life. Your blood is running hot—hotter than fire—and Luffy’s chaotic thrusts are only bringing you closer and closer toward your delightful, little death.
“‘M cumming! ‘M cumming!” You manage out, gripping onto the sweaty bars in front of you. “Thank you Luffyyy!” He cackles behind you, speeding up just enough to tip you over the edge. Your eyes roll back, rocked to your core by a violent, sucker punch of an orgasm.
“Good girl,” he soothes, slowing down for you, “Such a good job for me, pretty,” he turns you around, cupping your face softly in both hands. He presses your back against the bars, cold metal stinging your exposed skin. You’re flushed, panting, and Luffy is grinning like the sun. His smile stretches halfway across his face, and you have no choice but to meet him with a soft smile of your own. (He’s too handsome for his own good).
It doesn’t take you long to figure out Luffy knocked out the surrounding voyeurs. There’s nothing but snoring, now. He laughs, running a hand through his hair as he backs up away from you. You lean back against the bars, yourself. Your legs feel like jelly. You meet his eyes from across the room, hazy and dark like glinting jewels. You cock an eyebrow.
“So, when are we getting out of here, captain?”
He grins.
****
It turns out to be tomorrow afternoon, in fact.
He scales the sheer cliff face with ease, having knocked out any potential threats with a sophisticated blow to their energetic awareness. Several guards slump over beneath you, spears still loosely grasped in their clumsy fists.
Luffy starts snickering almost immediately, your arms wrapped around his neck as he carries you like a backpack. “Was just waitin’ for the right time,” he tells you, cheeks flushed with exertion. You hop up another few feet, bouncing on his back a bit as he scales the cliff.
Your chest is pushed up against his back, with your legs wrapped around his thick torso. His build is sturdy, his strength immeasurable, and you feel almost at peace—like a baby koala.
You tell him as much, and he laughs.
“S’cute,” he huffs, reaching up to grab another jutting handhold in the rock face. “Ya like being my baby?”
You grin, tucked between his shoulder blades. Your lips move against his skin: yes. Your ratty t-shirt presses into him, absorbing his heat and warming you through. The night air sends chills down your spine, but only just. Luffy’s like a radiator, climbing with you on his back. He hums.
“Like having ya as my baby,” he continues, jumping upward several feet. You gasp, but he lands with both feet firmly planted against the rock face. His hands scrabble for a landing, loosely grasping at stone, before you start to tip backwards.
You shoot out your hand before you can think: gravity pulling at your stomach and twisting harshly. “No,” you hiss, gripping the stone in front of you so hard your fingers bruise. You grit your teeth against the sharpness of the stone, holding your weight long enough for Luffy to get a hold on the cliff face himself. Three quarters of the way there.
He pants. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” you mutter, and hide your face between his shoulder blades.
He climbs the rest of the way, and neither of you have another problem scaling the sheer wall surrounding Udon’s base. Luffy sighs, landing on his stomach once he pulls both of you up onto the ledge. You unwrap your limbs from his sweaty, shaking body before crawling off to collapse on your own.
“Cmon,” he croaks, grabbing your hand, “Can’t stop now.”
So you get up, and start walking.
All the way back to his ship.
****
After the war (which you sorta help with, in your injured, post-prison state) he takes you back to his ship for good.
“Here she is!” Luffy laughs, collapsing on the deck of his warship. “Our new crewmate!”
Usopp eyes you warily, slingshot clutched in his fist. “Wh-what’s her job?”
Luffy sits up, smiling. “She’s my girlfriend!”
You stare at him, blankly. He’s never mentioned that to you, nor has he ever used something so sweet to refer to you. "Whore" is usually more like it.
He stretches out a rubber arm to wrap around your waist. He brings you over onto his lap, grinning like a monkey. “She’s got the best—“
“Okay,” you slap his arm, cutting him off, “They don’t need to know the specifics.”
He stops, but only just.
His eyes are glimmering with mischief.
****
It’s not long before he’s pounding you into the mattress of his sweaty bed.
You’re crooning out sounds you never thought possible, with his monstrous speed and elongated rubber cock. He’s better than a vibrator, you think.
Luffy slaps your ass. “Atta girl,” he preens, “Let em hear ya.”
He’s an exhibitionist outside of prison, as well.
So are you.
So you scream and cry on his dick, letting Captain Luffy know just how much you need it.
#dumpster dive#my writing#one piece fanfic#fav#luffy fanfic#kitty speaks#luffy x reader#luffy x y/n#luffy smut#one piece fic#luffy fic#luffy x you
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Stormy Weather, or: Outside, the Wind (Inside, the Light) | Dream/Hob | 1600 words | Rated T
tags: I recently spent an evening without power therefore I must put the blorbos in a Situation, love confessions, first kiss, getting together, power outages, Hob Gadling throughout history, gratuitious use of mildly accurate Middle English
The wind tears around London like a living thing, a wild animal, a predator, intent on the hunt. It chases birds into their nests and people into their homes, moans around corners and rattles shutters, sending piles of leaves whirling into miniature hurricanes and whipping branches into a frenzy, sharpening its claws on roof tiles and telephone poles.
Except in Hob Gadling’s flat.
The New Inn, and the cozy home above it, is in one of those old buildings that’s actually been loved and maintained – thanks in no small part to Hob’s own care and attention. The walls are thick and strong, the roof is solid. The shutters may rattle, but the windows are double-pane; the curtains and carpets are warm and soft, and no drafts encroach on the sanctity of his living room, where Hob and Lord Morpheus, King of Dreams, are having a movie night.
It’s part of Hob’s concerted effort to introduce the Prince of Stories to the stories he’d missed during his imprisonment. Tonight it’s Blade Runner – the final cut, of course – which isn’t necessarily one of Hob’s personal favorites, but seemed to fit the stormy, rainy vibes of the weather. They’re installed on the couch, with hot chocolate and wine and snacks, which Dream has deigned to pick at. Harrison Ford is eating noodles and wandering through wet, moodily-lit streets. The wind is howling outside, but they’re safe and warm and surrounded by soft things and life is about as good, Hob thinks, as it ever gets these days.
And then his lights flicker. Once, twice; there is the impression of a sort of electrical last gasp, and the room is plunged into darkness.
The wind whips and the shutters rattle. A volley of rain spits itself against the windows.
“Bugger,” says Hob.
Dream says nothing, merely brings his wineglass – which had already been cradled in one elegant hand – to his lips.
“Hang on,” says Hob. “I’ve got some candles around here somewhere.”
He gropes his way to the kitchen. In one drawer he unearths some beeswax tapers and several tea lights, which he arranges on a plate. He rummages in one of the deeper cabinets and makes a triumphant noise as he discovers his prize behind disused mugs and a fondue set from the 1980s: a pair of old-fashioned brass candlesticks equipped with round reflectors, highly polished to catch the light and bounce it back out into the darkness.
“You are remarkably well-prepared for an event such as this,” says Dream, as Hob lights his various prizes and returns to the living room with his hands full of flickering flames.
“Well, you know,” Hob demurs. “When it comes down to it, I’ve lived a lot more of my life without electricity than with it.” He arranges the tea lights on the coffee table and sets the brass candlesticks on a nearby bookshelf. “You never really get out of the habit of preparing for the worst. Although I will say, these beeswax ones beat the hell out of the old tallow jobbies we had when I was young. Got ‘em from a local bloke who keeps bees not half a mile away, isn’t that cool? A beekeeper in the middle of London. There, now,” he says, and having arranged the lights to his satisfaction he plops himself back down on the sofa.
Outside, the wind wails. The lack of lamps on the empty street below and the gentle candlelight within make the night seem even darker, and turn Hob’s living room into something even softer and cozier than it already is.
Dream’s face, in the flickering candles, seems even more otherworldly than usual; and Hob, for his part, truly looks as though he belongs in another century. The very shape of his face has changed, somehow, into something older; taking on a new appearance in the candlelight the way a man’s tongue might curl differently around the syllables of another language.
“I miss it, sometimes,” he says lowly. “This kind of world. Before the wires and the phones and the cars. It was… quieter.”
“You speak often of your delight in change and progress. Do you truly long for your past lives?” asks Dream.
“Yes and no,” answers Hob. “Some things are better now, no question. Antibiotics, wouldn’t want to live without those again. Vaccines and X-rays and chemotherapy and antidepressants – almost all the medical stuff. Mass transportation. Cars and planes have never been safer. Honestly, I’ve never understood the people who moan about the olden days and oh, life was simpler back then. Don’t they know how many people died? How many kids? Because they caught a cold or fell out of a tree or had a case of the runs that lasted a little too long?”
He leans forward to adjust one of the candles, which is dripping unevenly, and when he sags back into the couch there is just the hint of a frown between his strong brows.
“And yet…” he says, staring into the flames, voice quiet. “Nights like this. I do sometimes think…”
Hob trails off for a long moment.
“There was a rhythm to life, back then,” he says finally. “You counted hours by the church bells and days by the tasks that needed done. And there was so much that needed to be done… cows milked and fields planted and clothes knitted or mended. And it was all so important, so… necessary. Regimented. But in the in between time – Christ! your time wast thine.” As he speaks, his voice has slipped into an older register: his Rs grown rounder, his vowels longer, curling from his mouth to mingle with the candlesmoke hovering over his coffee table. “I remember fair hours as a lad, even into my manhood, of which I spent lyende in th’ fields, watching ants in th’ grass. And later, too, we’d hie us to bed with the sonne, the fire banked in the hearth. An’ it happen that if we awakened before dawn, ’twas a simple thing to pass the time in simple ways, be it in prayer or in pleasure…”
The innuendo in his words is clear, but Hob is not looking at Dream; his eyes are unfocused as he stares into the middle distance, revisiting the past via candlelight. Until one of the wicks lets out a small pop, and flares, and he shakes himself, coming back to the present.
“God, sorry,” he says, voice back in the 21st century. “Woolgathering. I’ll go on for an age, me. More wine?”
But Dream’s eyes have also gone unfocused, his lips parted slightly, chest rising and falling with unnecessary breaths as he stares – no, gazes – at Hob. He, too, must shake himself into the present moment at Hob’s offer of more wine. He silently holds out his glass.
“May I ask you a personal question?” Dream says.
“Anything. You know that.”
Dream pauses. Sips. Outside, the sound of the wind has not abated; has grown, if anything, even more dramatic. There is the muffled sound of branches scraping against the side of the building.
“Why,” asks Dream finally, “do you pretend to yourself that you do not want me?”
Hob chokes. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Why do you pretend thus to me?” Dream pursues. “Who has known you longer than any being on this planet or any other; who can know your innermost dreams?”
“What do you mean, other planets?” Hob demands. And then: “Have you been peeking at my dreams?”
“I need not peek, as you put it, to see the truth of the matter. It is writ plain on your face and in your every word and deed. I merely wonder why this truth has hovered before us for over six hundred years and you have yet to press your suit. Do you doubt, after all this time, my affection for you? Do you find me – unworthy?”
Dream sounds, impossibly, almost uncertain. Even vulnerable. Hob sighs heavily and leans forward, elbows on his knees and face in his hands.
“I – God. Dream,” he stammers. “Yes, Christ, I am full of doubts. You stormed away from me when I implied you might be lonely, I… I have never, once, thought I had a suit to press at all. What on earth has brought this on? Now, of all times?”
“I do not know,” Dream murmurs. “Perhaps… this darkness is working on me, as well. Perhaps I am as susceptible to candlelight and nostalgia as the next anthropomorphic personification.”
He smiles, a little quirk of the mouth that contains worlds, and Hob leans over, listing helplessly into Dream’s space as the tapers flicker.
“Fuck,” he whispers, pressing their foreheads together, turning his head to butt his cheekbone against the sharp line of Dream’s nose. “Art thou rēal? Speak you treue?”
“Aye, my Hob,” answers Dream. “Min herte is treue and bilongeth to you.”
A sob catches in the back of Hob’s throat at the words. “Fuck,” he whispers again, “Dream, I’m yours. I am. I always have been. My Dream, min sweven, my leof. Alwei, allesweis…”
Their mouths find each other, then, finally, lip against lip and breath against breath. They kiss for a long, long moment, desperate and hungry and soft all at once, as outside the wind howls coldly around the corners of the New Inn, and inside the light cast by Hob’s candles bathes their whole little world in a cozy glow.
“Take me to bed,” murmurs Dream against Hob’s mouth. “Make me your lover. Show me how you pass the time by candlelight, and in darkness.”
“Oh, darling. Dearheart,” Hob answers. “Nothing in this world or any world past could make me happier.”
And he suits his actions to his words.
#my writing#the sandman#dreamling#dream of the endless#hob gadling#a needlessly complicated title for a truly simple little fic#I've already written this basic premise so many times AND I'LL DO IT AGAIN#the archaic English Hob uses in this fic is based on the most cursory googling#just tell yourself it's all over the place because historically English is.... all over the place#my unpopular opinion is that I think Blade Runner is overrated and yes I will project my opinions onto fictional characters#as usual this started in one place and went in another direction entirely#may post on AO3 tomorrow if the spirit so moves me
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mint chip — how did they court their lover? with the lotr characters (aragorn, legolas, boromir, arwen, eowyn)
mint chip — how did they court their lover?
⤷ with: aragorn, legolas, boromir, arwen and eowyn
⤷ thank you for your support! it means a lot 💙
aragorn
Aragorn often see himself as someone unworthy of anything he desires. They way people see him and how he perceive himself can be so different. And when he understood you had his heart on your palm, Aragorn swear to never act on it. He wouldn't want to bother you, or worse: to describe that you see him the same Aragorn does.
When it comes about Aragorn, you would have to act first. To make him understand that you don't see him as a unworthy men, but as a promising one. To make him understand that people aspire to be like him. If you make Aragorn understand that you want him, that you don't feel disgusted by him, only then he would be able to court you.
And he would be the kindest. He act like a king, even tho he don't believe he deserves to be one. He would be polite, tell you stories about his quests, protect you as if you already have agree to be his. No one would dare treat you badly when he's around.
Aragorn don't see yet, but he was born to rule. And you will rule beside him.
legolas
Legolas is a noble. Not only a noble, but the rightfull heir of Mirkwood. That means he was trained in more than combat or what it takes to rule. Legolas was trained about how to act around people, taught how to deal with enemies, and learned how to properly court his lover. With that being said, he would ignore all this knowledge the moment he understood what he feels for you.
It wouldn't take long for him to understand that he loves you. Legolas is guided by his heart, don't matter if people like that or not. If when he looks at you he feel warm, if when he talks to you he feels at home, if when he's away from you his life fall apart: Legolas knows he's in love. So he says it.
Just like that. Don't matter when, don't matter where, Legolas will simply say it. He's polite, Legolas wouldn't make you uncomfortable or overcross your bondaries, but he wouldn't think twice before saying it.
He will court you, and Legolas have a elve's patience. He will engage in conversations, ask your opinion on different subjects, and always in a light tone. Legolas will try his best to make you laugh, specially during dificult moments. And he don't need to worry about how long it will take for you to call him meleth. After all, time isn't a thing he lack of.
boromir
No one could say that Boromir don't know what he wants of life. He's a decided man, a hero for his people, and he would never go against what he think is part of the greater good. Boromir is so kind, so aware of the dangers and consequences of war, that the One Ring used his honor against him.
At first, it may seem that Boromir is not subtle at all. He would never do anything to disrespect you, far from that, is just that something on his face screams that he's sure you both will end up together.
He's confident that you would see him as his people do. As someone brave, intelligent and righteous. Boromir see you as you are, and he fall in love because he could understand your soul. He won't spare efforts to make you feel the same.
Boromir will bring you flowers every time he sees you. He would always chose different types, in hope that one day you tell him which one is your favorite. And whenever you need or want to stay in Gondor, Boromir will show you the gardens. He once heard that flowers had meanings, Boromir hopes you can understand the true meaning of this gift.
And it's wrong, so wrong, but it would be worse if Boromir lied to himself: the day he had to fought a creature in front of you, when he effortless defended you from something wicked, that was one of the best days of his life. To think that you may see him as a hero, your hero, made him blush.
So, yes, Boromir's feelings can be quite easy to understand. But isn't this a great thing? Boromir is showing you what he wants from life. And it's you.
arwen
Arwen may not know the world, or understand a great amount of things, but she knows her heart. When her father say that she's naive, Arwen understand that she just feel thing deeply. The only way this could be a mistake of hers was if Arwen buried her feeling and tried to ignore them. But to act on them, to search for her own happyness, will never be something she'll regret.
When Arwen understood that she loves you, at first she'll spend most of her time thinking. How do you feel about her? Would you ever feel the same away? How life, eternal or not, would be if she chose to spend it with you?
But as soon as she undertood her heart's desire, Arwen would stop imagining. She would join you for walks, compliment you and made sure there was no way of you thinking she was already with someone. Arwen won't be too foward, as she don't knows your feeling about her, but she does make clear that she's here.
If you ever need advice or someone to talk to, Arwen will gadly assume this position. She would do anything to know you better and help you with whatever you need. She's there. You can count on her. And If you ever need to be defended, well, she can do that too!
eowyn
Eowyn wants so much of life. She aspect to be brave for her kind, to rule as fairly as her father did, and to honor those who believe on her. If you help her with that, if you hear her dreams and treat them like reality, then you made your way to her heart. And if you live there, then it's only fair that Eowyn lives in yours too.
As we all seen, Eowyn won't be stopped from trying to conquering your heart. She'll be close to you, search for you to talk to, help you with whenever you need. It will obvious, but it's her intention. There is no need in trying to look like she don't want you. What good could it made?
Even if you don't see to feel the same way about her, it won't stop Eowyn. She can wait. She can wait until you look at her with love in your eyes. She'll do her best as a ruler and warrior, and part of it will be for you. To make you be proud of her. To honor your trust. And Eowyn will wait how long it takes to have your heart.
if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡
@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.
#madwomansapologist#ask box#mwa birthday#ice cream prompts#writing prompts#fic prompt#aragorn x reader#aragorn x you#aragorn x y/n#legolas x reader#legolas x you#legolas x y/n#boromir x reader#boromir x you#boromir x y/n#arwen x reader#arwen x you#arwen x y/n#eowyn x reader#eowyn x you#eowyn x y/n#lord of the rings x reader#lotr x reader#lotr imagine#lotr#lotr headcanons#lord of the rings#lord of the rings x you#aragorn#eowyn
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Redamancy: Chapter Thirteen
Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?
Warnings: None except for a cuss word and some tooth-rotting fluff
Notes: Oops, I lied - New Moon timeline has been pushed to the right a bit, I got carried away with this chapter lol this one got me cheesin’ hard. I can’t even wait to post this until my regular time, so enjoy!! (Hopefully I didn’t fuck up the tags - thank you to everyone that’s used the google form!)
Word Count: 2701
Series Masterlist
• March 21st, 2005 • Cullen’s Residence •
Reader
The soothing motion of Carlisle’s car came to a gentle stop that didn’t completely wake me up. But the cold arms reaching under me to lift me from the vehicle certainly did. As he began to lift me, Jasper made sure to secure the hem of my dress for my modesty causing me to smile sleepily at his thoughtfulness.
“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” He asks quietly, speaking softly into my hairline.
“You.” I blush immediately at my whispered confession, keeping my eyes closed and face buried in his shoulder.
“Mmm, I think I like sleepy Y/n.” He says with a chuckle that rumbles through me.
I finally look up at our surroundings, noticing we’re at his house instead of mine.
“Why-”
“Your mom isn’t expecting us until tomorrow afternoon, normal people don’t make a twenty-four hour drive without sleeping.” Somehow he manages to open the front door without setting me down. “So, you’re going to get some rest while I go for a hunt.”
I blink up at him slowly as he continues his path through his house. I get another day with him? Well, however much is left once his hunger is satiated.
“My siblings are at school, Esme is redecorating with one of her clients, and Carlisle is at the hospital so the house is yours for most of the day.” Jasper explains, walking down the hallway and finally into his room before returning me gently back to solid ground.
His massive king bed is as immaculately made as the first time I saw it and just as inviting. The longer I admire the fluffy black duvet and mountain of pillows, the more aware I am of all the little aches and pains sleeping in the car caused. Not to mention the lingering tenderness of my healing ribs and the other broken parts of me.
Jasper turns me to face his black gaze, “Climb in and get some sleep, Esme stocked the kitchen for you and I’ll be back before you know it.” It comes out almost robotic, but I see that he’s trying - his hunger covers every inch of his face and keeps his body rigid.
“Take your time, I won’t leave without you.” I reassure him with a half smile, especially since I never made that exact promise in the hotel.
He leans in to plant a kiss to my temple before he’s gone with a small breeze and a lingering coolness on my skin as the only signs he was just there. Sighing, I slide the thick drapes closed to stop the morning sun from shining through the beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows.
I stop in the doorway to his closet before reaching the bed, contemplating snooping for something more comfortable to sleep in. Would stealing a shirt be too much? We aren’t even dating, but I do have permission to sleep in his bed… the dresser on the far wall tempts me forward. What’s one shirt to a vampire?
Sliding open the middle drawer in search of anything comfier than a dress, a small note card is waiting on top of his neatly folded shirts:
He doesn’t mind one bit.
- A
Christ, this woman thinks of everything. Grinning, I step out of my sundress and pick up a black short sleeve that’s a couple sizes too big. It hits the tops of my thighs, but since I’m home alone - I don’t think twice before climbing into his bed and situating myself for a much needed rest.
Inhaling the scent that’s so distinctly Jasper Hale, sleep finds me easily for the first time in a very long time.
Jasper
She’s in my shirt. In my bed. In my room. My sheets twisted around her legs. My pillows cradling her body. My scent mingling with hers and settling into the walls, the carpet, the bookshelves, the bed, my lungs.
I close my eyes and slowly retreat out of my room, shutting the door almost completely silent and resting my head on the wood.
“You good?” Emmett’s question almost startles me right out of my skin.
I sigh, “That hunt was almost for fucking nothing.” I turn my darkening eyes toward my brother to see surprise sweeping his face.
“You just got back!” He whisper yells with a wide-eyed look, knowing Y/n is asleep.
“She’s-” a low growl gets the better of me and I immediately tamp it down, closing my eyes in concentration.
A chuckle poorly contained slips from my brother and my eyes burst open to give him a deadly glare.
“You got it bad, brother.” He claps my shoulder with one of his massive hands and steers me down the hallway, putting distance between me and my greatest temptation. “You’ve got it so bad.”
Reader
I wake with a yawn and a stretch, relishing in the softness of Jasper’s sheets.
My eyes snap open. Jasper’s sheets.
I’m in Jasper Hale’s bed, wearing his shirt and my underwear and nothing else.
Shooting up into a sitting position, I glance around wildly trying to determine what time it was, but my eyes stop in the corner of his room. Jasper, sitting in a chair reading a book by a dim lamp.
“It’s almost seven, you slept most of the day. How was your nap, darlin’?” Setting his book down on his lap, he meets my gaze with a sly grin before sliding his eyes down my legs. “I see you made yourself comfortable.”
I gasp, “I-I uh-” fumbling for an explanation as to why I’m half-naked in his bed and absolutely failing.
“Sweetheart, it’s alright. A very nice view to come home to, so I guess you could say it’s more than alright.” He stalks forward slowly, light brown eyes holding me in a trance.
I blush deeply at his words and pull the blankets up to my chest, wishing these sheets could swallow me up.
Just then, a knock at the door and Alice pokes her head inside, “Oh good - you’re up! Get decent, everyone is getting together in the living room for movie night!” She finishes with a wink and is gone as fast as she arrived.
Jasper disappears into his closet and re-emerges with a pair of black sweats, setting them in my lap and leaning forward to whisper in my ear, “Can’t have a lady walking around in just my shirt, huh darlin’?”
Watching him duck out of the room so that I can slip on the bottoms, I contemplate making a run for it to put an end to all this teasing. The blush on my cheeks might as well be permanent.
Jasper
Movie night, really? I direct the thought at Edward and watch him throw a bored, pointed look at our scheming sister before leaving.
Alice replies with a grin, tossing me a blanket presumably for Y/n, “Oh hush, I’m just doing my sisterly duty of moving things along.” She floats past us, preparing the rom-com she selected.
“Don’t even look at me.” Rose waves a hand in dismissal as I raise my eyebrows at her, “I want nothing to do with your human.”
“C’mon, babe-” Emmett whines, but stops at the murderous look in his mate’s eyes. He continues anyways with a semi-serious whisper, “It’s the first time in like, forever since he’s even come close to getting any-”
I cut his inappropriate sentence off with a pillow to the face just as Y/n turns the corner into the room.
“Vampires have pillow fights at night?” She asks playfully, scanning the couch for a spot to sit. My clothes are swarming her and it stirs something I thought was long dead in my chest.
“Vampires do a lot of things at-” Emmett teases her, but this time Rosalie is the one to stop him with a smack to his chest.
Shaking my head, I find a spot on the opposite end of the long sectional from Emmett so as to limit the teasing. Embarrassment and a little something else I can’t quite put my finger on flows from her, so I pat the empty space next to me and hold out my hand for her to take. Once she’s settled with her legs tucked against her chest, I turn to ask Alice to press play and find her already giving me a pointed look. I wrap my arm around Y/n and pull her closer to settle against me, my sister smiles self-satisfied before hopping to the couch and starting the movie.
“Relax, sweetheart.” I whisper in her hair and I’m immediately shushed by Rose.
Y/n finally releases the tension in her body about five minutes into the movie and ten minutes after that, her legs are in my lap with the blanket pulled up to her chin.
“Alice, Rose? Can I get your help with opinions for a client?” Esme calls as she walks through the doorway to the garage halfway into the movie. “And Emmett, mind picking up Carlisle after his shift, sweetheart? I took his car this morning.”
All three of my siblings leave the room, Alice tossing me the remote and Emmett not-so-subtly flashing me a wink. He disappears before Y/n could notice and I could throw another pillow.
I feel her nerves ramp up as the house quiets again, I attempt to ground her by sliding a hand around her ankle under the blanket and it immediately has the opposite effect. Turning to her, she’s already watching me with her mouth open ready to say something, but it’s stuck. So my eyes drift to her mouth, lips that have tempted me from day fucking one. I know she sees what I’m fixated on, because her breath hitches and I tighten my grip on her ankle minutely - not to be painful, but a warning.
“Jasper-”
“May I?” I ask zoned in on her lips, unable to even want to hold myself back anymore. A curious Icarus to her solar flame.
She nods in a daze as my fingers trail her chin, but it’s not enough. “Words, darlin’. I need you to-”
But she’s leaning forward with a whisper, “Yes, Jasper.”
I swear time stops as a buzzing drowns my ears. Breaths puff from her beautiful lips in short spurts, anticipation oozes from her. I have to take a few seconds to collect myself, my mind running rampant.
I slide my hand around to cradle the back of her head and tilt it backwards, the tv casting a warm glow on her face. A shiver wracks through her and I tense, “Do not move.” The request is more of an order and she obeys instantly.
Leaning forward, her warm breath fans across my face before it stops with a sharp inhale. The only sound is her pounding heart and I swear it stutters as I gently meet her lips with mine.
Burning. This burning feeling starts where my lips tangle with hers and it travels down my throat to grip my rock-solid heart in a painful squeeze. Her mouth is warm and pliant where mine is cold and unyielding. Her nose is pressed against mine like a puzzle piece I’ve been missing. It’s absolutely bliss, her lips molding to mine, better than any indulgence I could possibly think up. Her quickening heart rate reminds me to reluctantly retreat - humans and their need for air.
I separate just barely from her mouth and she sucks in a gasp that tears my soul from my chest making me want to dive right back in. Opening my eyes to make sure this is in fact reality, hers are still lightly shut, bliss emanating from every single pore.
How on earth do I go about my day now? Knowing this perfection exists? She’s human, I can’t very well spend eternity kissing her here on this couch.
My groan causes her eyes to flash open and I notice they’re completely dilated, a dangerous observation for my control.
“Are you? I-I mean, did you not-”
“Don’t even finish that sentence.” My voice comes out huskier than I’d like and instantly she relaxes in my grip.
I push back a single strand of hair that blew across her face as I let out a long breath, barely an inch of space between us still. My willpower is at an all time low as we continue to stare at each other in somewhat surprise.
“Jaz?”
“Yes, darlin’?” I’m utterly raptured by her, firmly ensnared by this gorgeous girl - even more so than the moment I met her.
“Can… Can I?” Her question is open and tentative, but I can tell exactly what she wants and I’ll be damned if I don’t give it to her.
“Anything you want, it’s yours sweetheart.” It’s my turn to hold still, to wait patiently for her to come to me.
Reader
Holy fucking shit.
This without a doubt is what it’s like to have an addiction at first taste. Jasper Hale just kissed me and I’m about to kiss him, again.
I lean forward and smooth my hands up his chest to the base of his head, my fingers finding the short ringlets that hide under the bulk of his beautiful blonde hair. He’s deathly still with his eyes closed, allowing me to take the lead - but I also know this is a tricky situation with his control.
My nose bumps his as my eyes flutter closed and it’s his turn to elicit a sharp inhale. Nerves begin to flood my throat with cotton, but they’re gone almost as quickly, Jasper wiping them away with probably half a thought.
I closed the minuscule gap and my lips brush his a little deeper this time, relishing in the temperature difference. Kissing Jasper is in a category of its own, gone are the days I’ll ever settle for the warm mouth of any plain boy ever again.
Opening my lips enough to snake my tongue out for just a taste-
Suddenly there’s a couch-worth of separation between us and both of us are gasping for air like we’ve just run a marathon. His eyes are wide and wild, a darker brown than I distinctly remember a few moments ago.
“I-I’m so sorry,” his voice is strained and his hands are digging through his hair roughly, “Forgive me, darlin’-”
He fumbles at a loss for words, mouth opening and closing with no sound. Immediately I feel terrible because I pushed a boundary he wasn’t ready for.
“Jasper, please-I messed up and I’m so sorry.” I plead from my spot, scared to go and comfort him.
“I’m sorry sweetheart, I should have my shit together-” but I stop his panicked apology.
“Look at me, please.” His eyes snap to mine at the request. I scoot closer to him slowly, stopping just within arms reach so as not to invade his personal space. “Can you close your eyes and just, feel with me?”
He takes half a second of hesitation before trusting me, his dark eyes snapping closed with a furrow in his brow. Taking a deep breath, I close my own and focus on exuding positive energy. Calm, content, tranquil - my mind running over any remotely helpful feeling to settle his inner turmoil. After a few moments of the impromptu meditation session, I open my eyes feeling much more relaxed. Staring back at me is the face of a much calmer, but shocked man.
“Did that work? I wasn’t sure, but-”
“You… No one has ever done something like that-darlin’.” Once again I’ve rendered him speechless and it brings a smile to my lips.
“Get used to it Hale, you’re stuck with me now.” I tell him, smug.
“Is that so?” He pulls me closer to him with a grin on his lips, the joy in my chest causing a laugh to burst from me as I toss my head back.
There isn’t a single place I’d rather be than his arms and I’m so glad he’s constantly opening pieces of himself up to let me worm my way inside.
Next
Taglist:
@aoi-targaryen
@min-jianhyung
@pbbsl
@timelordhunterandmysterysolver
@sheerangermany
@clearwater-hoe
@blackbluerose666
@ivy-plays
@random-human02
@delightfulbluebirdstarlight
@steh-lar-uh-nuhs
@gaymazinglula
@l3ejm
@angelfuzzy2
@losa12308
@thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads
@flyawayprincess
@ropickl
@ropickle
#bless-my-demons#redamancy series#jasper hale x reader#twilight#twilight fanfiction#jasper whitlock hale#jasper hale fanfiction#jasper hale#female reader insert#jasper hale x female!reader#jasper hale twilight
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⋆꙳✧༄ My king
❖ Character: Barou
❖ Reader: genderneutral | AFAB
❖ Wordcount: 1.2k
❖ Summary: Barou lost a match and is frustrated- you help him relax in the best way possible
❖ WARNINGS: sub!reader, degradation, no prep, unprotected sex, creampie, spanking (like once or twice), reader getting called "slut", Barou taking out his frustrations on you (consensual)
❖ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi! | thank you @kazutora-lover for listening to my random ass ideas in the middle of the night. You made this come true.
You had just finished folding the freshly washed laundry when Barou came back home from his friendly training match. The tension in his body didn't go by unnoticed by you as he walked in, a vein below his eye seemed to pulse from the frustration he held. When you went to greet him like you usually do and asked how the match went, he groaned “Just shut it” he barked at you, clearly not in the mood to have a conversation now. All you could do now was to watch him storm off into the bathroom to take a well deserved shower.
The loud noise of the door slamming shut made you wince, the walls almost shaking from how hard he punched the tiled walls in your bathroom. You knew very well that he could get upset, even angry after losing a match due to “the incompetence of others” but this seemed different somehow and it made you worry.
You decided to wait a moment to collect your thoughts and give him some time to cool off before you dared to approach the bathroom door, hesitating to open it as your hand rested on the handle. Barou was pacing around the bathroom, another punch rattling the walls of your home. When it got more quiet inside, you took a deep breath before knocking on the door, wanting to ask if he could let you in so you could wash his hair or take a bath with him - hoping this would help him relax.
The door got ripped open so suddenly that you took a step back in surprise, Barou, now standing in front of you as the anger clearly still radiated off of him. “What?! Out of my way” he hissed and you immediately made way. “Shoei… please calm down. Tell me What happened?” You asked with a soft voice, hoping it will somehow reach through that stubborn skull of his but it was to no avail.
Before you knew it he had you backed up against the closest wall to cage you in, so close you could feel his breath tickle your skin as he grabbed your jaw harshly so you would look at him. “You want to know what happened? We didn't win. Now get lost, I don't want to make you cry” he warned you, a dangerous glint residing in his eyes and it was the truth - in these moments he might say things he didn't mean. You gulped and nodded as much as his tight grip on you allowed it “but i want you to make me cry” you whisper, a little smirk dancing in your lips now and he immediately understood. Without much effort he tossed you onto the bed, his calloused hands manhandling you in ways he wanted to, groping at the tender flesh of your breasts before flipping you over onto all fours, your head buried in the soft pillows beneath.
The ripping of your clothes made your ears ring but he had no nerves to undress you properly “Gonna buy you new stuff” he grumbled, knowing how much you hated it when he ripped through your favorite pieces but he couldn't help himself - you were offering yourself to him like this after all. When he spread your folds to spit onto your cunt he chuckled “You're such a slut. Already so drenched and i haven't even touched you” he growled, growing hard from the view you gave him.
The next thing you could feel was the tip of his thick length pressed against your entrance before you felt it pushing past it, making you cry out from the stretch he gave you. You could feel how he struggled to push himself all the way inside, your walls gripping him like a vice which made him pant above you “‘s fucking tight” he hissed out, giving your plush ass a slap tp make you focus on something else and it was enough to push himself in all the way which made you gasp, the world spinning. A glance to your blissed out face, so short you almost missed it, gave him all the permission he needed to go on, always making sure to check for any signs of discomfort, no matter how lost he got - seriously hurting you was the last thing on his mind. You had no time to adjust to the cock buried deep inside of you before he began to fuck you in a rather fast pace while his grip on your hips was sure to leave bruises in the aftermath.
All you could do was to wail and moan into the pillows beneath you as his thrusts grew in power and his grunting got more animalistic above you. It was hard keeping yourself up since his thrusts pushed you further into the soft mattress until you finally ended up laying on your stomach. His grip on your hips didn't change however but with the way his whole weight rested on you made it feel so much deeper. “Such a good little slut, losing your mind over my cock” he moaned low as his grip changed to wrap one of his arms around your hips, angling them a title higher to kiss your cervix with the tip of his length at every thrust he delivered. “So fucking filthy, creaming over me like this” he continued his degradation. His words and the way he used you as nothing but his personal fleshlight made your head spin and your eyes water at the same time as your high washed over you like a wave of pure pleasure. The only thing you could do was to scream his name until it fell off your lips like an obscene prayer. “Let everyone know who makes you feel this good, angel” he rasped into your ear, making your hair in the nape of your neck rise. His pace faltered for a moment, becoming more gentle when he saw the tears roll over your cheeks but the way you moaned and tried to rock yourself against him so desperately to meet his thrusts let him knew that you're far from done so he picked his pace up again, his free hand pressing your head further into the pillows in an act to dominate you even more.
Two orgasms later, you were nothing but a babbling mess, a wet patch beneath your still dripping core forming as you kept whimpering “my king” unable to get anything else out of your pretty mouth while he shot his hot cum deep inside of you, to let him claim you as his. “That's right angel, i'm right here” he hummed into your ear before kissing your temple lovingly. His thrusts finally slowed down and ceased completely when he pulled out of you, watching a mixture of his cum and your juices leak out of your sore cunt. Without hesitation Barou scooped you into his strong arms “You were so good to me. Such a good little angel” he whispered when he saw that you can barely stay awake anymore.
Seeing you sleeping in his arms after he just treated you so rough made him chuckle to himself as he carried you to the bathroom to clean you up. You truly knew how to calm him down but he would never admit that you had him, the king, so tightly wrapped around your finger.
Network: @tokyometronetwork
#blue lock x reader#blue lock smut#barou x reader#barou smut#barou x you#barou shoei#blue lock barou#bllk x reader#bllk smut#bllk barou#blue lock x you
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My 2023 Fanfic-Wrapped
I only really started reading Pedro fanfic in April or May, I got started on some of the well-known fics on AO3 that were recommended on tiktok. However, one of them brought me to tumblr (because I wanted to see more from this author, I wanted to see their moodboards and their sneak peeks). And I haven’t left since.
I even decided to try my hand at writing as well. It’s been a LOT of fun. (My masterlist is here if you want to see all the weird shit I wrote so far). Thank you to everyone who has supported me in all my efforts and to all the friends I've made.
I wanted to create this list to highlight some of my faves this year. If you haven’t read these, they all come highly recommended by me.
I'll be reblogging everything on this list throughout the day. If you’d like to reblog this post and add some of your own favorites from this year - PLEASE DO!!! I would absolutely love to get new recs!! Let’s share the love!!
In no particular Order - Here are some of my favorites from the year!
Fave Writers
(I’ll read anything they write)
@toxicanonymity (joel miller masterlist)
Personal Faves: NightWalks!Joel, Vamp!Joel (both Ongoing)
@theywhowriteandknowthings (masterlist)
Personal Faves: Creep - Joel, Princess and the Duke - Dave York (Ongoing)
@chloeangelic (masterlist)
Personal Faves: Love Me Back - Joel, Seeking What is Desirable - Joel (Ongoing)
@goodwithcheese (masterlist)
Personal Faves: The Layover - Frankie, Paranoid Heart - Javi P (Ongoing)
@beskarandblasters (masterlist)
Personal Faves: Me and My Husband - Din Djarin, New York or Nowhere - Bodega!Joel (Ongoing)
@absurdthirst (masterlist)
Personal Faves: Kinktober 2023 Oct 15th - LactationKink!Dieter, A Marriage of Convenience - Regency!PeroTovar, (they have SO many good ones)
Fave Ongoing Series
Mall Rats (Jackson-era!Joel) by @strang3lov3
Oh! Honey (Monster!Joel x Mortician!Reader) by @lincolndjarin
Hard to be Soft, Tough to be Tender (Pimp!Joel) by @iamasaddie
On the Waterfront (Chubby!Mafia!Frankie) by @beefrobeefcal
The King’s Queen (Royalty/ArrangedMarriageAU!Javi G) by @wardenparker
From Eden (PlantShopOwner!Joel x Married!F!Reader) by @5oh5
A Lover’s Pinch (Professor!Joel x Student!Reader) by @hier--soir
Into the Beat of the Night (Bi!Frankie x afab!gn!OC) by @perotovar
Fave Finished Series
A Stranger’s Heart Without a Home (Jackson-era Joel) by @morning-star-joy (This is the one that brought me to tumblr. Doni created this beautiful story and it has a very special place in my heart.)
Late Night Texts (Post-Colombia Javier Peña) by @undercoverpena
Someone’s Wife in the Boat of Someone’s Husband (Married!No-Outbreak!Joel) by @netherfeildren
Something New (SexWorker!Frankie) by @prolix-yuy
Something Wretched About This (DrugDealer!Joel) by @covetyou
Pioneer Frankie (A series of stories about Pioneer!AU!Frankie) by @frannyzooey
Trial & Error (No-Outbreak!Joel helps Tommy & reader get pregnant) by @thetriumphantpanda
Pleased to Meet You (Meeting Francisco Morales - twice) by @intheorangebedroom
Fave Characters
Husband's Best Friend Joel Miller (with Married! Reader) (HBF!Joel) by @gracieispunk
Jackson-Era Vampire! Joel Miller (A Secret Worth Keeping) by @multiversed-daydreamer
Soccer-dad No-Outbreak Joel Miller gets a racy text from an unknown number (The Right Wrong Number) by @proxima-writes
Demon! Ezra (with Witch! Reader) (In Every Lifetime) by @xdaddysprincessxx
Protective Jackson-Era Joel Miller (A Safe Haven) by @joelsgreys
THROUPLE Frankie x Joel x F!Reader (Catalyst Masterlist) by @ezrasbirdie
Sleezy Gas Station Joel *MC* Miller (Meet Me in the Back) by @atticrissfinch
Porn Star Joel Miller (with Porn Star Reader) (I Know it When I See it) by @bageldaddy
Fave Dark/DDDNE Fics
(These fics aren’t being put in the corner but they do come with some very special warnings so I wanted to separate them)
Trick or Treat? (DDDNE Dark!Frankie Morales x Dark!Joel Miller x Dark!Dave York x F!Reader) by @morallyinept
Bullet For You, Darlin’ (DDDNE Dark!Raider!Joel Miller) by @kewwrites
Online Friends (Cherry Bomb) (Dom!Joel, online/phone sex) by @walkintotheriveranddisappear
Blessed Be the Fruit (Dark!DubCon! Joel Miller - Handmaid’s Tale AU) by @romana-after-dark
Red Light (Dark!Obsessive!DubCon! Landlord Joel Miller) by @kiwisbell
The Burglary (DDDNE burglar!Joel Miller x f!reader x burglar!Tommy Miller) by @milla-frenchy and @aurorawritestoescape
I don't know man.... I just know I like it
Menuet (It’s an animal/shapeshifter/monster fucking thing (Pero Tovar) that fundamentally changed who I am as a person) by @psychedelic-ink
Liquid Gold (Joel - and Tommy? - help Pregnant!Reader out when an issue arises) by @gasolinerainbowpuddles
Get a Grip (Watch Model!Joel Miller x Manicurist!Reader Hand/GloveKink!) by @bonezone44
Mother Who Provides (Mommy!Kink Joel gets breastfed) by @pedge-page
Goodbye 2023, See you all next year!!!!
#fanfic wrapped#noxturnalpascal#pedro pascal characters#joel miller fanfiction#frankie morales fanfiction#din djarin fanfiction
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This will be the death of me - Part 1
Characters: Malleus Draconia & Yuu
Ship(s): Planned romantic Malleyuu
Word count: 2.9k
Summary: You've never seen a dragon before—Heck, you thought they were extinct!—but even someone with half a brain cell can put together that it would be smarter to NOT get on one's bad side.
Is it any better to get on a dragon's good side though? That depends... on if you can survive his clinginess.
Or: You end up in a bit of a httyd experience after running into and helping a dragon on your travels.
Masterlist
AO3 Link
Like many other situations in your life, you're not entirely sure how you got into this mess. As inevitable as it might be, it's not like you wanted to be screaming your voice hoarse while looking down the jaws of a man-eating beast.
By pure dumb luck or some form of divine intervention, you'd managed to scramble away right as it snapped its jaws shut, jumped onto your feet, and shot away like a bullet. You didn't turn back—Didn't dare to—but you honestly felt like you had death on your heels. You're familiar enough with the feeling to recognise it, but this time you were positive that it was actually going to catch you this time.
You skidded to a stop—And subsequently fell on your ass—when you suddenly heard a squealing rumble. It got cut off abruptly, followed by the sound of people shouting, chains rattling, and something massive dragging through the dirt. Then, you heard a sound like heavy rocks skidding together and then a loud thump. A pause of silence... and then cheering.
Now you find yourself sitting around a fire with people you don't have a single lick of recognition for. You're surrounded by the laughter and drunken singing of the king's soldiers, being forced to awkwardly rock side to side by the swaying bodies you're squished between.
Maybe you should be celebrating. You did just narrowly escape death after all, but that's nothing new at this point considering your track record and honestly, how can you just gloss over the fact that these people had used you as bait to catch an ancient beast?
After that maddening race for your life, armoured strangers had come out of the bushes and thicket to announce to you that they had just captured that beast that had tried to eat you— a dragon —and to also thank you for wandering into its vicinity and luring it out for them.
They had been there. They had watched as you'd cluelessly treaded on dragon territory and almost became dragon chow.
The chill of fear in your body had heated to anger and you were about to tell them just how exactly you felt about their dragon-hunting tactics when it suddenly hit you—A dragon. This massive, hulking beast… this embodiment of the night… this creature glaring at you with sharp, neon green eyes and bound in massive iron chains… is a dragon .
All your fury had dissipated and were instead replaced by a sense of dread that numbed your body and stiffened your limbs. Chained or no, the burning fury that you saw in this creature's eyes promised revenge. You don't know about the soldiers that had captured it, but as someone who had looked down its gaping jaws of death, you weren't eager to be at the receiving end of its wrath.
After the celebrations around the fire, the soldiers had oh-so kindly invited you to rest in their camp for the night as thanks for your assistance. If you'd wanted to receive such "graciousness" in exchange for such an experience you never would've left home.
The soldiers quickly conk out as soon as they hit their sleeping bags, the rum swiftly taking them under. They'll be feeling that in the morning for sure... and maybe even the sole of your boots, if you're impulsive enough.
You don't fall asleep—You can't, not with the massive black bulk looming over the entire camp and spanning twice its length. You'd overheard the soldiers discussing lookout for the night, but if you were right, whoever is currently on duty (and every other person who's supposed to swap with them) should be too buzzed out of their mind to stay awake.
You slip out of your sleeping bag towards where the dragon is lying (even with its abyssal hide melding with the pitch black of the night, it's hard to miss with the gleam of the chains and just by how BIG it is) and sure enough, the soldier sitting watch is drooling on the spear that they're leaning on.
Chills shudder across your entire body and all of your hairs stand on end as you approach the bound beast. The cold fear intensifies, enveloping your entire body when you see the dragon's gaze on you. Its eyes are a green you've never seen before. It reminds you of fire, even though you've only ever seen orange and blue ones.
Its eyes are slitted. Wary. You take another step closer and its warning growl shakes the ground beneath your feet. You freeze on the spot, but fortunately you still have enough feeling in your body to move and bow your head in submission. Hopefully—Or if your luck plays out—the dragon understands it to be the non-threatening display that it is, or at least doesn't disregard it.
To your relief, the dragon stops growling, and even though it's still glaring at you, you take it as a good sign.
"I'm going to try and free you," you whisper. You slowly reach into your satchel and pull out a massive ring of keys, being mindful to not clink them together and make noise. With how out of their minds with alcohol the soldiers were, it was no special feat to find out who had the keys and snatch them without being spotted. The dragon's eyes zero in on the keys and you see its pupils go slightly rounder.
The dragon doesn't growl, but it still watches you carefully as you get closer—Close enough to touch. You keep the beast in your peripherals as you search for the locks in the chains. You murmur an "A-ha!" you finally find one and get to work slotting in a key.
There's a click , and a rush of triumph fills your chest when the chain comes undone. A lump lodges itself in your throat though when the chain snaps back with a sharp noise. You hold your breath and whirl around to make sure the sound hasn't woken anyone.
No one's moved. The soldiers are as still as the dead. You let out a sigh of relief and go on to find the next lock.
It occurs to you, in the middle of finding the third lock, that this might be a bad idea. Sure, it was already a bad idea to incur the wrath of an ancient beast by binding it like a common animal, but for obvious reasons, it might be a worse idea to release the aforementioned wrathful beast.
"When you're free, you're not gonna eat me, right?" you whisper to the dragon as you unlock the iron collar around its neck. The dragon is quiet. It instead responds by bending its long neck around once you've freed it to look at you. You stumble back, startled, but it doesn't do anything else other than stare you down. There's no hostility in its gaze though, so your heart settles.
"...Is that a yes?" you murmur.
The dragon makes a short snuffing noise but it doesn't sound agitated. It lowers its massive head and you take a step back, but the motion is careful. There's no risk of it knocking you over with its oversized snout and instead you have easy access to the iron clamping its jaws shut.
Why don't you find out? the creature's intelligent, gleaming gaze seems to say.
You take a deep breath, muster every ounce of courage and foolishness in your body, and reach forward with the key.
Your hand accidentally brushes its face. The dragon growls, you curse, and the both of you jerk away from each other.
You try again, more carefully this time. The dragon's big eyes are even more unnerving this close, but you're not deterred. Your conviction has always been either your savior or downfall, and you've never been more anxious to find out which it is this time.
The mechanism in the lock clicks . You grin victoriously at the dragon as it pulls its head back, but it vanishes off your face when the beast tosses its great head and throws the iron muzzle to the ground with a clang that makes you jump.
"Wait—!" you call out too late as startled yells sound out from the soldiers in the camp. The soldier on lookout, the one closest to you and the dragon, jolts awake and their eyes bug out of their head upon seeing the dragon loom over them with its teeth bared.
"Shit!" they yell out. "The beast is—"
The soldier is abruptly cut off by a great black maw closing around them. Screams and yells of terror ring out. The dragon locks its jaws with a sickening crunch before flinging the limp body aside like a ragdoll.
You should be scared. You should be horrified. But instead, you swallow and think, I'm glad that wasn't me .
Sue you, you're still petty about being used as dragon bait.
The soldiers, still dazed from their night of drinking, stumble to their feet, but it's only a matter of time before the adrenaline sobers them up enough to grab their weapons and more chains. You focus back on the task of releasing the dragon—There's only a few more chains left to go!—but it rises up on its chained feet.
"Oh come on!" you exclaim as you impulsively grab onto its leg before it gets too far for you to reach the lock. Your arms are almost pulled out of their sockets as you're jerked along like no more than an annoying piece of paper stuck to a slightly damp foot. "Stay—Stay still!"
You can't see what's going on, but you hear shouts and the dragon bellowing above you. You continue to be flung around on your reptilian joyride as it knocks over soldiers with its powerful tail and snaps more up in its terrifying teeth. The smell of blood in the air thickens, but your attention is solely on the manacles on the dragon's legs.
Despite being jerked around, you manage to successfully free the beast's front legs. You lose your grip and narrowly miss being stepped on when the dragon charges forward to snap up fleeing soldiers. The breath is knocked out of you with how hard you hit the ground and you lie there, groaning.
" YOU! "
You startle at the sharp yell and flip around onto your front to look up at the seething face of a soldier you recognise to be the one that was holding the keys—The captain. Uh oh.
"Uh, hey..." you stammer breathlessly with a sheepish smile.
"What have you done?!" the soldier screeches. You hear the tell tale sound of a sword being dragged out of its sheath and you catch the glint of iron in the soldier's hand. "You'll pay for this!"
You yelp and skitter on the ground in a pathetic attempt to get away as the sword is raised. Right as you think you're about to be run clean through, you're deafened by a loud roar. You catch the captain's eyes widening the split second before black scales suddenly appear in your vision.
You hold your arms over your ears when the dragon above you snarls loud enough above you to possibly burst your eardrums. The temperature all around you rises unbearably. A blood-curdling scream cuts through the air, but still all you can think to do is find the keys on the ground and drag yourself through the dirt to reach the manacles on the dragon's back legs.
As you're unlocking the second manacle, you hear soldiers yelling out battle cries and charging the dragon's rear with weapons and chains drawn. You're about to yell out a warning, but the dragon lifts its tail and easily sweeps it over the approaching attackers, knocking them over like barrels.
The dragon is completely free to move now, but you still hear the clinking of chains as the dragon moves above you. Its wings!
You crawl out from underneath the dragon's belly, stumble to your feet, and immediately come face-to-face with blindingly neon green eyes. The dragon has its neck craned toward you, eyes trained on you instead of the armed soldiers. You're momentarily distracted by the arrows and spears embedded in the beast's black hide before focusing back on the iron chains binding its wings.
The chains clink and clatter metallically as the dragon flexes its wings in alarm at soldiers aiming bows, crossbows, and spears. The beast reacts, moving around wildly. Not wanting to get squished by a rampaging thousand-pound dragon, you do the only thing you feasibly can—You jump onto its back.
Alright. It's not your brightest idea, because the dragon immediately starts trying to shake you off, but you grip onto one of the many ridges on its back and hold on for dear life.
"Stay still! I'm trying to save your fucking life here!" you scream at the top of your lungs. The dragon makes a displeased grumble but it fortunately remembers its priorities and turns its attention towards the people trying to kill the two of you.
You hear spears and bones snapping, wood creaking beneath powerful jaws as the dragon picks up a wagon and smashes it on the soldiers that scatter like ants to get away. As this happens, you're fighting to keep your grip on the dragon's back and unchain its wings. You succeed with one and almost get your arms torn off as the beast immediately lifts it and beats it down in one rough movement that has its back muscles rippling and jostling you.
You hiss at the feeling of its scales scraping your skin raw, but still you hold on. One could say your determination is otherworldly, but you'd say it's just your self-preservation kicking in for once and demanding you don't fucking die.
It would've been more helpful if it had kicked in before you had committed to jumping on a dragon's back, but now wasn't the time to lament on that.
By some miracle, you manage to reach the other wing despite all the pain and unsteadiness with the key in hand. You shove it into the lock with a yell and—
Twist. Click. Clang.
The dragon shakes the chains off its wing as you dig your fingers into its back and try to catch your breath. With the dragon's ridges as handholds, you pull yourself further up the dragon's back in hopes of positioning yourself more securely, but as you do so, shadows fall over you as the beast unfurls its wide, wide wings and slams them down.
The sound that deafens you is like a clap of thunder. You shut your eyes tight when the wind suddenly whips up around you, tugging on your clothes and hair and threatening to drag you off the dragon's back and down to the ground.
Which—You realise, when you crack your eyes open—is a long way down because dear Seven Greats you're flying .
The furious winds continue to get colder and stronger and it's all you can do to not fall off and splatter on the ground like a pancake. You manage to peer down below despite how the height makes your stomach swoop and sees soldiers shouting out and pointing at the dragon lifting up into the sky. They're running around to grab more weapons and chains but you doubt they're going to do the slightest bit of good.
You can't begin to imagine what's going on through their minds right now. You're on the dragon's side and you're still terrified. The beast roars as loudly as the thunder that drums the heavens. The air buzzes against your skin as it charges with electricity. The dragon heaves a deep breath and you swear your entire body erupts with sweat as it unleashes a column of bright green fire on the humans below.
Soldiers scream and dive for cover. Wagons and trees groan and break beneath the force and heat of the dragon's breath. Even though you're fortunate enough to not be caught in the inferno below, the heat is still strong enough from its back to be suffocating.
Lightning flashes, momentarily blinding you with green light, and the crack of thunder that follows it combined with the sound of the dragon's beating wings overwhelms you and you lose your bearings. Your grip slips from the dragon's ridges and you tumble gracelessly from its back.
The wind whips around you, roars in your ears, flaps your clothes wildly before it all abruptly stops. You're not all there, but you're pretty sure that a fall from such a long height is supposed to end with pain and death, not pain and a suffocating pressure around your torso.
Despite your unfocused vision and the strong winds pushing your head down, you manage to tilt your chin up and meet the dragon's gaze. You're once again frozen, but you quickly ease out of it when you recognise the lack of hostility from before. Instead of slitted, its pupils are round and its eyes aren't narrowed in a glare.
The dragon does nothing but stare at you as it continues to hover in the air. For a moment, you wonder if it's trying to decide on whether or not it should uncurl its claws and drop you to your death, but it's clear what it decides on as you're not a pitiful stain on the scorched ground below. Instead of safely putting you down like you expect it to do though, you find yourself pressed against a wall of tough scales.
The beast holds you close to its chest and beats its wings, carrying itself— and you —away from the carnage.
#twisted wonderland#twst#twst malleus#malleus draconia#twst yuu#twst x reader#malleus x yuu#malleus x reader#malleus x mc#malleus draconia x reader#malleus draconia x yuu#malleus draconia x mc#twst imagines#twisted wonderland imagines#twisted wonderland au#twst au#matcha writes a bit
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The Last Wolf of Lankiveil
Part 2 of Queen of Light, King of Darkness ft the poll thanks to @jennathearcher @lady-phasma for the idea of the were-feyd fic
Taglist: @avidreader73 @emilykaldwen @cljordan-imperium @beebeechaos @dunefandomhub
Cw: murder, blood, lycanthropy
For all his reputation as a Beast and Count of Lankiveil, Glossu Rabban had not inherited their mother’s true nature thanks to their father’s wretched human blood.
Feyd Rautha had inherited more than just Onir Rautha's name, he had inherited his lycanthropy.
A true Beast, like those who ruled Lankiveil's icy lands before the Harkonnen's hunted them to extinction.
A shame his mother had to die to keep his true nature a mystery from his beloved uncle. As his mother’s son, Feyd will make sure her death wasn’t in vain.
The universe will be ruled by the last Wolf of Lankiveil.
And for that to happen, Paul Atreides and his wife, Feyd’s own sister-in-law had to die. He’d done away with Atreides’ pet and the bastard in her belly, and you deserved a gift as magnificent as the one you gave him that morning in Arrakis.
“We were hoping you could join us for a hunt in my son’s honor.” Feyd gives no indication of what he has planned for the Muad’Dib and the wife he refuses to even touch.
It is not that difficult; his wolf form could not be sensed, and he had received enough training to hone the abilities that would have created the Kwisatz Haderach. He can hide from their visions and escape their control completely.
“I am sure my wife longs to see her sister and our nephew again. We will be there, cousin.” Paul’s eyes hold some suspicion, but their alliance has chipped away at most of it. As far as his cousin knows, Feyd is a simple man with simple pleasures. Give him something to respect in you and a weapon in his hands and he will massacre entire planets in your name.
But the young baron is a father now and his perfect little heir can’t aspire to be his uncle’s heir when his lady mother is far more deserving of the Throne.
You, his Queen of Light, his Nurbanu, deserved the universe.
There is something other about him. Something related to his violent nature and the moon.
You had heard the rumors of the lycanthropy that plagued House Rabban, but one thing was hearing stories about the wolves of Lankiveil and another one was seeing her husband leave for a hunt on a full moon and hear a wolf’s howl unlike aby you’ve ever heard.
Irulan and Paul would be visiting some village across the forest that had myths of the Kwisatz Haderach they wanted to take advantage of.
You weren’t supposed to follow, you were supposed to stay home with Murad who would turn one year old tomorrow. But you wanted to confirm your suspicions.
You arrive at the village to find it in chaos. It had been destroyed as if something ravaged it and its people. Like a one man army.
“The Wolf of Lankiveil!” they shout in fear and adoration. “The Kwisatz Haderach has been destroyed!”
Contrary to popular belief, you didn’t hate your sister. She annoyed you and stood between you and your throne, but you didn’t hate her. And while you knew this day would come, you knew you would feel terrible for murdering her.
Feyd didn’t understand that part, he didn’t have a single positive memory of his brother nor any chance to be a friend to anyone.
You find the wolf at the edge of the village and you smile at the sight of him.
Your guards beg you to keep away, fearing what would happen if the wolf carried you off.
None recognize the blue human eyes in the wolf.
Your Feyd, your husband.
You believed yourself immune to him, that his violence would keep you from ever falling in love with him, but in the end he grew on you. Like mold on rotten fruit.
“So this is where you went off to, dear husband?” you ask the man beast covered in the blood of innocents.
Come with me.
No need to tell you twice. In a fluid movement you’ve gotten on his back and he takes off at breakneck speeds.
It is thrilling, to feel the icy wind around you as you use all your abilities to remain in place. You can hear his laugh echo in yours as you ride through the woods.
Not long after the wolf begins to shift, the fur thinning, the canine body losing its structure in favor of something human like and soon you arrive to his hideout clutching his back. You must look ridiculous piggybacking a bloody and very naked Feyd.
“Did you like your gift, wife?” his black teeth still have blood from where he tore apart his victims and the red staining his snow like skin paints a beautiful picture.
“How could I not, my baron?” you kiss his bloody mouth and show how much you love his gift, how much you love him.
Your daughter ,Asena Rautha, conceived that night, is born a wolf.
Just like her father.
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loverboys. kaveh, tighnari, cyno, scaramouche.
sum. short drabbles abt your love with him
if you zoom into sumeru's city, you can see two young adults exiting the grand bazaar. the lanky male talks, hands moving everywhere to add exaggeration in his speech. beside him stands a girl, though she holds a bored expression, she's listening to all the details from him.
“i'm telling you even if i DIE i won't say i was wrong!” kaveh finishes, holding up a finger and sliding it across his neck to mimick a decapitation. he rolls his eyes, immediately sour at the thought of the altercation earlier.
surprisingly, kaveh's argument did not include alhaitham but on the not-so-surprisingly note, he got himself involved in another argument that he totally didn't instigate. you see.. his problem is unconciously saying his thoughts out loud which gets him places—places that are sometimes good (results may vary).
focusing on your lollipop, you nod your head for the umpteenth time at whatever he's going on about. you lost interest ever since you guys reached the adventurer's booth. melting into the sugary flavour, you close your eyes with a little smile—that is until someone boldly yanks your lollipop.
“well, excuse me kaveh?!” looking at him, you make sure your expression shows what you think about his sheer audacity. how can he just confiscate your snack like that?!
“you focused on this thing more than you did with me!” as if it's illegal, he dangles the lollipop in front your face to inject guilt into your system (not like it'll work..)
all it took was one simple glare from you tells kaveh that he needs to run before he becomes a punching bag. gearing up his long legs and holding a secure grip on your lollipop, kaveh runs through random directions in the city. with a childish grin on his face, he looks back at you and taunts, “catch me if you can!”
nothing's worse than suffering a migraine at the ass crack of midnight after a long day at work. you're practically dragging your body against the wall for support as you walk home. since your home's a small distance from work you walk but god, you should've taken up your co-worker's offer to drive you home.
groaning again, you move your hand up to support your head. with the intense pain that blurs your vision, your let out a line of curses but stops once you see a pharmacy in the distance. as if an angel heard you, the pharmacy's opened twenty-four hours all week and it's just two steps away—maybe even four..!
pushing open the door, your steps stutter until you reach the counter. slapping your palm on the platform, you hurridly request for painkillers before your migraine can get the best of you, “can i get something for a migraine? preferably something strong. thanks.”
blinking twice, tighnari accepts your request and slides two packets of pills, “here you go. they're both drowsy pills.”
muttering a “thank you” you give him the amount of cash needed and pop out two pills from its packet. seconds before you can swallow it, tighnari speaks up, “there's a vending machine with water. you can take one.”
turning slightly so you can see the vending machine, your lips shape into an ‘o’. walking to collect your bottled water, you turn to smile at tighnari before leaving.
like destiny once again, both shared the same thought, “how cute.”
hot, sweaty and tired: three words to describe what you feel right now. for whatever reason needed, cyno convinced you to come on a some “business adventure” with him out in the desert—specifically, around king deshret's mausoleum. apparently it's for a report/investigation but who cares? you don't. you never listened to a word he said other than “come with me.”
you look at cyno who doesn't seem affected. in fact, he looks like he can move on and traverse the other two areas left in the desert. furrowing your eyebrows, your intertwine your hand with his and lean your head on his back.
“can we rest? sorry, i'm tired.” “mhm, let's go to an oasis.”
pulling you to his side, cyno wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you in closer to his shoulder. he feels guiltly, he knows you're not that heat resistant yet bothered you to come with him.
after what felt like eons, you guys finally reached the oasis and cyno sits down first. dusting off his pants, he gently pulls you down to sit on him and snakes one hand over your waist as the other positions itself to shade you from the sun.
“feeling better?” “yeah, thank you cyno.”
strapped down, scaramouche feels a cold substance splatter on his face. fear lingers down his body as the substance spreads further. against his will he's having all these things happen to him.
“stop moving your face!” “let me go, woman.”
twisting and turning, scaramouche doesn't care if he gets the pillow stained with it. he wants it off his face. it's a foreign feeling that does not mix with him.
and what's the substance you might ask? a skincare mask—a peel off mask to be exact. it's a sleepover night and you're bored until the idea of skincare night with your boyfriend. he didn't agree and even called it a “stupid idea” so you strapped him down with random clothes and took control.
squinting his eyes at you, scaramouche feigns annoyance but in reality, he's all giddy inside. lighthearted stuff like this makes him blush like a seven year old boy falling in love at first sight.
but scaramouche's never going to admit that. he has a reputation he needs to keep up with and he will do it—even if you already know he's just faking.
“can it come off yet?” “no, it's barely been two minutes.”
scaramouche groans, his lips forming a pout as he looks at the line of skincare products on your desk. it's going to be a long night for him.
#+ rizsu: genshin.#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#kaveh x reader#tighnari x reader#cyno x reader#scaramouche x reader#genshin drabbles
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I wanted to write something really quick for Jouno's birthday ngl, so here's some really cheesy dogshit
Happy Birthday to the blind king himself (ugh I miss him)
Scenario: Calling Jouno while he's at work. It becomes a little silly.
As much as Jouno hated the telephone, he hated the sounds of his coworkers even more.
What were they yelling for? It's four in the morning.
Who's even up at four in the morning?
Apparently them.
Every day. For the last 2 weeks.
Usually, he could have slept in for at least 3 more hours. Have a coffee that didn't taste like piss and tinfoil (everyday he hated whoever made the coffee in the lounge, no one would tell him the name of the moron who cheaped out on it. They weren't safe from him.) and get to tell his woe's to someone who didn't have rocks for brains.
But no. He was stuck here, at HQ, listening to reports that led their current case to nowhere.
Which led to yelling. Always yelling.
So answering the phone was honestly rather refreshing.
"..."
He waited a second. Why should he, of all people, speak first?
"Hello? Is Jouno there?"
Jouno felt time pause for a moment. He stopped, listening to the other members in the room.
They seemed rather distracted, not truly paying attention to what he was doing. Teruko and Tachihara were arguing and Tecchou was...he smelt gross, so probably working out.
"Sorry, who is this?"
He really hoped he was hearing wrong.
"Jouno, c'mon you know who I am. Why, is something wrong?"
When did you have their number? As far as he recalled, only government officials were ever given this number, and even that is far and few in between. He never let you know much about his work.
"I'm not trying to buy anything."
To Jouno's dismay, that failed miserably. Instead, all he heard was your laughter on the other side of the phone. Did you really think his misery was funny?
"If I find you, I'll kill you."
Jouno made threats as a part of his day-to-day life, it was easy to fake it towards you. But a part of him felt how he was cracking easily, hearing your obvious giggles as they thought of the next line to say.
"Ok ok. Sorry I know you're busy at work right now. But I really did call for something really important."
Taking a moment, Jouno sighed as he leaned against the small desk that held the phone. He waited a bit, listening to see if the others in the room were still ignoring him.
As much as he hated it, they seemed to actually notice that the "bad-things-are-happening-please-help" phone was called. His luck really is immaculate.
"How did you get this number again?"
There was a guilty laugh on your end. What had you so happy?
"Some other day, maybe. But that's not important! Jouno."
Jouno gave a very long sigh.
"Jouno, today is your birthday!"
"Yes."
He was really hoping he was as good of an actor as he thought he was, because he couldn't help how his heart was beating twice as fast at the thought of you remembering something so small.
"Are you coming home tonight?"
There was a pause.
Jouno didn't want to respond, because he hated the answer. Truthfully, he didn't know when he would have a 'normal' (for a hunting dog) workday.
He didn't even want to admit out loud how much he missed you.
"Oh, ok. You know, after your 'case' is over, we should get to celebrating. I have the perfect gift for you already, which definitely involves no clothes."
"No."
There was a pause on your end. He hated telling you no. Weird, since frankly breaking people's hearts was his favorite past time.
"Good idea. Uh..."
Jouno forced himself to listen back into the conference room, which was now weirdly quiet. There was also a small heartbeat very very close to him.
That was not a good sign.
"Thank you. Um."
He turned his head, bell-jingling against the phone, as he knew Teruko was looking up at him -probably with a shit eating grin.
"...I love you."
Sighing, he ate his pride, turning away.
"I love you too, Jouno. Happy birthday."
You sang it, not forcing him to endure the entire song. He hoped he was tall enough and facing enough away that Teruko couldn't see the smile on his face hearing those words.
When he hung up the phone, hearing the click and shut off the landline, he was forced to face his reality.
The one where he couldn't stop hearing his coworkers giggling. Particularly Teruko's, but even Tecchou was laughing somewhere deep in that stupid body of his that managed to breathe air.
He wanted to kick him.
"I didn't know you were in a relationship."
Tachihara said this nervously, but still with a smile in his voice.
"I'm not. I don't know who that was or how they got that number."
It was hard to say this seriously, as Jouno could feel the red creeping up on his face.
Happy birthday Jouno omfgggfgfg when is he coming back </3
#this is silly but happy birthday jouno#silly man is silly ?!#bsd x reader#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#bsd x y/n#jouno x reader#jouno x you#jouno x y/n
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analysing vance hopper because he lives in my head 24/7 !
tw for like. literally everything the black phone covers!!!!!!
also there's some special effects gore rather far down in the post idk just i feel like i should warn you just in case
okay so before anyones like "but bee!!!! he only had 6 minutes of screen time in a 102 minute long movie!!!!! he was only on screen for 5.8% of the movie!!!!!" and to that i say i Know it was a real tragedy so a lot of this will be built on personal interpretation and subtext and stuff said behind the scenes and whatnot
so firstly i wanna rot about what his childhood/upbringing might've been like..... i havent quite decided on something definitive but i think we can take one look at his character and realise that is glaringly obvious he had a bad childhood, in one interview the actor that plays him (brady hepner) says "the background i had set up for vance is that the reason he was the way he was is his home life was fairly difficult, you know maybe his dad was either not there for him or he wasn't supportive, maybe he was fairly abusive, and so that creates a hair trigger sense of rage in vance" hair trigger meaning his patience is literally as thin as a strand of hair it does Not take a lot for him to snap
there more to it after that which i'll get into soon but yea thats the gist of it it's clear he had absent/neglectful/abusive parents and that would certainly contribute to why he's so angry all the time, maybe acting so explosive was the only way to get his parents' attention, either good or bad, so he just internalised that. obviously rage and anger issues like vance's lead to violence (not in all cases but in his case it does) and i think a neglectful and abusive upbringing would obviously expose him to more violence than a normal childhood would, therefore normalising it and desensitising him to it, whether he's seeing it play out in his own home and/or on television or something like that (because i doubt his parents would be the kind to monitor what content he's viewing)
i feel like he has little control over his life and that only adds to his anger, which in his case leads to a fight when his buttons are pushed too many times. i think he probably takes great pride in being the toughest in town and whatnot and winning fights and being perceived as strong and scary is good to him and helps him regain control/power, something he doesnt have at home. the rest of the quote from the interview i mentioned earlier states "this pinball machine could have been the only thing that he has in his heart that's like, good, like 'holy cow i did this, i set the score,' so when someone comes along and messes it up for him, it takes away the only thing that he has. i think that that's when he switches to a 'now you're gonna pay for that'"
similar to what i said about fighting, the pinball machine and his high score is something he has control over and its an important part of his reputation/image like. hes literally pinball vance ! and the whole thing about that high score being the "only thing he has in his heart that's good" implies that hes. well. pretty shit at everything else, which is pretty much canon if you remember that gwen said vance was held back twice in school. makes me think that while he's not the brightest in school he's certainly street smart
moving onto ermmmmm him getting kidnapped era because im sure youre wondering "well bee if he's so street smart then why did he get kidnapped" so may i raise two theories (this is. literally all i got and its not even concrete, me and my friend gray (@staggersz) tried to figure out how this could even happen and this is the most plausible thing we've got. so shoutout to him real quick he has had to deal with me being unnormal about vance for like a year and a half thanks king couldnt have done all this without my rotting buddy)
so either he got taken by surprise (most likely option) or vance's trust was gained first via getting given quarters at the pinball machine and small talk and shit like that but this is unlikely because i feel like it'd take a loooooong time for someone like vance to trust a some random stranger adult man when he clearly has issues with trusting and respecting people older than him and people with authority (e.g. cops, his parents, or school officials) so yea being taken by surprise would probably be the most realistic option, i always see people on tiktok being like "how did the grabber kidnap vance hes so strong!!!!" dude its a 15 year old boy against like. a 45 year old man who's already claimed two lives its really not gonna be a fair fight here
before i get into the next part i wanna quickly address a theory i absolutely Hate and it is so easily disproven and that is the theory that vance is the grabber's son or is related to him in some other way and i see it Far too often on tiktok and i HATE it. from what ive seen this all stems from his dream sequence where he kicks open the fence to albert's house and, presumably, goes inside after being dropped off by the police after the grab n go fight. idk if some people just straight up didnt realise this but clearly in real life he is going to his Own House??? in the dream it's only albert's house because this is how he chooses to show gwen the house she's trying to find her brother in, the house that he himself was killed in??? i hate the theory i hate it sm
the dream sequence itself is interesting though as the ghosts seem to only be able to conjure up what theyve seen in real life (like how bruce can picture the outside of the house and show that to gwen but the house number is all flipped and not right beause he doesnt know it) so vance being able to picture the house and the number and the gate and every detail would imply that hes seen it before, but im going to explain that away as either he got out once before like with finney's failed escape attempt, or the house is most likely on the route he walks to school or the grab n go or something and he hasnt actually been there prior to being kidnapped
mini rant over now onto being kidnapped i guess, so i used the missing posters to try and estimate a timeline of how long each ghost boy would've been in the basement for (although the missing posters are notoriously unreliable for details such as looks/height/age/etc, the dates seem to all line up). so we know the order is griffin, billy, vance, bruce, robin, finney, right?? if we use the poster date then billy was taken on may 4th, 1976, a month and two days after griffin was taken (april 2nd 1976). vance was taken on september 23rd 1977, almost a full year later (stay with me im going somewhere with this), and after that bruce was taken on july 18th 1978, again almost a full year later
its established in the movie that the grabber stalks his victims before he takes them (canon because we literally see the van watching finney and gwen as they walk home from school early on in the movie) but we dont know how long he does this for since griffin/billy and robin/finney were taken such short distances apart and then the others were taken such long distances apart, also it's possible he could stalk his next victim while the previous one is still alive, etc etc lots of confusing factors, but if i've done the maths right then the absolute maximum time vance could've spent down there is 9 months and 25 days, or 298 days, so erm . let that sink in !
howeverrrr in the movie gwen states that vance went missing "last spring" and september is definitely not in spring, meaning he could've been down there for a year or even longer. an explanation or excuse i could think of for the movie and the missing poster saying different things (other than the missing posters being known for some areas being wildly inaccurate) is that maybe he was taken in spring but wasnt labelled as officially missing until september, when he was properly linked to griffin and billy's similar disappearances and the mysterious grabber? i can imagine it'd be very easy for law enforcement, especially in the 70s, to dismiss someone like vance as a runaway until they get solid evidence that he was taken. idk though thats just my personal excuse / angsty headcanon for the difference in information
not sure what exactly killed him but we do hear from vance himself that "he took his time with me" so it was probably blood loss from a variety of injuries, if we look at him in his ghost scenes we can see his hair is absolutely covered in blood which indicates head injury, he clearly has a broken nose and bruising around his eyes as a result of it, he has these deep cuts on his abdomen area (apologies for the image quality but i believe they're like. sfx pieces you would wear under clothing)
and he also has just like. minor bruising (like the fingerprints on his arm) and other random blood splatters on his face and neck (assuming the blood down his neck comes from wherever he was bleeding on his head) so Yeah overall very unpleasant way to die obviously
okay now the part thats actually in the movie and it only took me 13 paragraphs to get here: vance as a ghost!! first thing i wanna point out is appearance wise i just want to say that when he's a ghost he's missing his choker and that fact Pains me. anyway personality-wise i feel like being violently murdered has, understandably, kicked his rage up to like. the highest level it could possibly go. he's insanely snarky and downright rude to finney on the phone, showing no empathy to the fact that finney is literally in the exact situation he was in
i feel like the whole "this is the nightmare end of your pathetic little life" and "if you knew what you had coming, you'd be fucking terrified" thing is definitely to scare finney on purpose and to get him to do something, vance might as well have just told him he's never going home cuz thats how it came across LMAOO, it is startling though because vance is clearly speaking from experience, that he was literally fucking terrified, and he is warning finney in his own weird way
the thing i think sets vance apart from the other ghosts is that while he does help finney, he does it for a different reason than they do. the other ghosts want finney to escape, to get out, to be free, to live, but personally i dont think vance cares about that. the only thing he wants is for albert shaw to be dead, for someone to seek vengeance, to do what vance couldn't. vance doesn't care if it's bruce or robin or finney or whatever boy could've come after that, he doesnt care as long as that man gets what he deserves after what he put vance through, and i see this through the scene at the end of vance's call where finney thanks him for his help and vance says, and i quote, "helping you? this isn't about you, fuck him! and apologies for being repetitive but to me it just literally proves that to vance, this isnt about finney or his escape, its just about revenge
we dont get to find out what happens to the ghosts once the credits have rolled, and i dont think we quite know enough about tbp's version of ghosts to guess what theyre up to, but i have a few theories :3 maybe theyre no longer bound to those two houses and they can now go anywhere they want in town? or maybe since their shared goal of stopping albert has been achieved, the ghosts can finally pass on to whatever is waiting for them next. i dont think vance would be content to pass on that quickly or easily as anger lingers, but i hope he'd be able to let go of it eventually, and hey we might find out in the sequel. i pray it mentions him cuz i will just die if it doesnt
sometimes, ok thats a lie, frequently i think about an au where he survived or escaped or whatever but ohhhh boy this post is already a train wreck so that au would deserve its own essay of a post :3 if u actually genuinely read this far then Wtf thanks for reading the ramblings of an absolute madman, only pure delusion could get like 20 paragraphs about a guy with 6 minutes screentime but hey thats how i roll, thanks again to my pal gray for letting me rot and thank u to my other pal ana for also enduring all this rot
hope u enjoyed my interpretation of vance hopper im going to crawl in a hole now and probably brainrot some more, thanks again for ur time :3
#the black phone#tbp#tbp vance#vance hopper#character analysis#i literally rotted my entire brain for this one#normally i hate when ppl tag characters in a post that isnt really about them im gonna tag the other characters cuz i do mention them quite#a few times so apologies to ppl that are fans of anyone that isnt vance this post is Vance Centric#tbp robin#robin arellano#tbp finney#finney blake#tbp griffin#griffin stagg#tbp billy#billy showalter#tbp bruce#bruce yamada#tbp gwen#gwen blake#the grabber#albert shaw#the black phone 2022#i am the number 1 vance hopper fan and this proves it#if vance has 100 fans im one of them. if vance has 10 fans im one of them. if vance has 1 fan its me. if vance has no fans im dead.#sorry to everyone that followed me for total drama content i have an absolute disease for this movie and this guy#back to regularly scheduled content soon trust#not expecting this to do numbers cuz theres actually only like 4 tbp fans on earth but had to let two years worth#of absolute brainrot for this movie that has like. barely any merch and only the slightest scraps of fan content#i stayed up all night writing this
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Cream and Ice (Candy Queen x Reader / Winter King x Reader)
wordcount: 13k, NSFW.
summary: As the ruler of an entire kingdom, the Winter King is a busy man. You'll spend the rest of your life being thankful to him for rescuing you from the freezing cold as he did. Still, it does get lonely, sometimes.
The Candy Queen is even more eager for company than you, and at least twice as lonely. You've been 'kidnapped' by her more times than you can count, and have grown to appreciate her company. All of the Winter King's warnings you've long since disregarded, since you've never actually gotten hurt.
When, one day, you bite off more than you can chew—or, rather, swallow,—the Winter King is the only one who can save you.
See the full tags on ao3, here!
The snow crunches underneath your feet, the cold wind penetrating even through the many clothes the Winter King has provided you with. The cold had never been a factor he had to consider for himself, or his subjects, but you are a different story. It’s fine, you know you’ll be leaving this place soon, even if just for a little bit. As you walk the streets of the Winter Kingdom, you feel the inhabitants’ gazes follow your forms, and hushed whispers trail in your wake.
It’s fine if they see. You can never be quiet here, and you need the Winter King to hear about your departure eventually. Otherwise, he’ll never come to pick you up. And you’ve never actually returned from Candy’s, as she’s told you to call her, home on your own.
You don’t know exactly when being kidnapped by Candy turned into something else, but it has. There’s no need for her to put you in a cage anymore, and the two of you actually chat. Sure, you have the Winter King, but he gets busy, and the rest of his subjects are… You don’t know how to put it. There is a hollowness behind many of their eyes. It’s nice to have someone else to talk to, even if her ways are rather eccentric. But, really, who are you to judge in this situation? You are not from this world, and your definition from sanity might not align with the one the Land of Ooo. Even then, the many warnings you’d received from the Winter King would suggest otherwise.
He can warn you about her obsession and unpredictability, but he never seems particularly concerned about her. Maybe you should be, as a human without magic, but being ‘rescued’ has grown into such a nonchalant affair that you can’t be bothered. She doesn’t seem much interested in anything besides the Winter King, so you don’t think she really cares about hurting you. Her mood often swings, yes, but it also isn’t hard to flip her back around.
This is what you think about, as you wait underneath the pine-scented trees. The smell is pervasive, practically too strong, when you are standing underneath clumps of them. You have to walk to the edge of the kingdom, otherwise the alarms would go off, and that would create too much of a fuss for your liking. The Winter King is busy right now. You guess he’s fiddling with something in his laboratory, or ‘fixing’ something about his kingdom that no one but him had ever seen issue with.
You hear Candy before you see her, as you do every time. Her presence is accompanied by the pounding of her legs on the thread mill, the groaning of the subjects that carry her, and bouts of laughter that ring through the air. The same time you see the contraption she calls an aircraft soar through the air, she yells out your name while waving both of her arms at you.
“Hiiii!” She says as she lowers her contraption. “C’mere, we’ve gotta go quick!”
As soon as you approach, your own greeting ready on your tongue, the arm on her machine snags you up the floor, and chucks you into the air. The yell you let out only makes her laugh harder, but she catches you in her arms without effort, and puts you on the floor, your back resting against one of the candy canes that decorate the side of the ship. She is a lot stronger than she looks. Your heart is still busy trying to escape your ribcage, and you wheeze out a breath.
“Please never do that again,” you tell her. One of your hands is firmly wrapped around the candy cane for support.
She winks at you and sticks her tongue out. “No promises, sorry! Need to get home, quick!” As she starts to run again, she keeps her gaze focused on you. You don’t know how she manages to keep an eye on you and steer the machine at the same time, but you don’t try to think too hard about it. Just as you try not to think about the fact this whole thing is made up out of living creatures. When you’d asked her about it, Candy had told you that they definitely agreed to this, they always wanna do everything for her!
“Did you get the gooooods?” She drawls out the last word as if she’s drunk, bouncing on the balls of her feet, learning over towards you. From experience, you know that she’ll start patting you down if you don’t hand them over soon enough. As she stops running, the machine stutters and loses altitude, only rising again when she lets out a ‘whoops!’ and starts running again. That’s the second time today you’ve felt the ground fall away underneath your feet, and you’d like it to be the last. Perhaps you should really start reconsidering whether these visits or worth it.
But Candy smiles wide at you, giving you her undivided attention, and even though you know she cares more about your usual company than you, you’ve still become a little fond of her. She doesn’t have anyone, it seems. If things had gone differently for you, you would have been just as alone as her.
You take a moment to catch your breath. “I’ll give them once we’re at your place, okay?” Your nails scratch at the smooth surface of your one lifeline on this ship. “You know flying makes me a bit nervous.” The wind whips past your face. Even as you are higher off the ground than you were before, it’s warmer than the one blowing through the Winter Kingdom.
Though she doesn’t agree one way or the other, Candy’s legs moving even faster are a clear indication she understands the program. “You say you’re scared or whatever, but you get on every time anyway! They say I’m the crazy one, but you should make up your mind, too!” With the back of her hand, she wipes the sweat off of her brow.
You can’t say it’s ever the smoothest ride, but it’s always a fast one. The machine lurches left and right as you land, and you cling on for dear life, as it crashes into the ground. As the groans of the banana-people, whatever their name may be, ring out, you know you’ve made a safe landing. Without fail, Candy clambers down her servants without sparing a glance or a thought towards them, digging her heel into their faces and mushing them up. You’d jump down if it weren’t too high. You’re forced to do the same, but you at least think you’re a bit more polite about it, since you apologise.
Candy waits for you in front of her door. “So? So?” Candy leans in close towards you, standing on the tips of her toes. Her eyes are blown wide and twinkle with excitement, her nose almost poking yours. It’s endearing, despite knowing the reason for her delight.
You dig around in your pockets, and her a few pictures you made from the Winter King. They are better than the ones she has adorning your walls, as those were made in secret. These weren’t. The Winter King is always more than happy to pose for a picture, and he’ll even ask you to take some if he’s made himself a new outfit, to most accurately judge himself from every angle. Perhaps it’s not the most moral thing to do, feeding into her obsession like this, but it’d continue regardless of what you did.
“Here you go,” you say, handing her the little stack.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She squeals, hugging the pictures to her chest and twirling around on the tips of her toes. A few pieces of candy shoot out from the tips of her fingers. They clatter to the floor, completely unnoticed by her. “You always get such good ones! I loooove it! Gotta put them up right now!”
She skips like a schoolgirl all the way towards her room, and you have to keep up at a brisk walking pace. Every time you enter, you try to ignore the giant cage in the corner of the room, but you never quite succeed.
“Put them in your diary, and not on the wall, okay?” She practically has a shrine dedicated to the Winter King on her wall, but you don’t need your pictures to be added to that. You have no interest in answering his questions about how she got her hands on them.
“Yeah, yeah, mom.” You can practically hear her rolling her eyes. “’S not like you gotta tell me that every time.”
You huff out a breath of air through your nose. “If he sees them, that’s the end of it. You’ll have to start taking them yourself again.”
As she walks past her keyboard, her back turned to you, she flings her fist on it. The discordant noise clangs together, loud, but harmless. “Fiiiiine. Yours aren’t big enough for posters, anyway. They’d look bad next to mine.”
Candy flops down on her bed, landing on her stomach. She reaches underneath her pillow for a diary that has become a familiar sigh to you. Pictures stick from the borders of the pages from every side, and multiple of them are stuck together with pink gum. The front has something scrawled on it that you’ve never been able to make out. You watch as she shifts through your pictures, sighing longingly at every single one of them, while kicking her feet in the air. To stick them to the paper, she pulls a piece of gum out of her hair. It’d surprised you the first time you saw it, but it’s clear it doesn’t hurt her whatsoever.
“Do you like them?” You ask, and she hums loudly in response. It really is surprising she doesn’t try to maul you over how much time you spend with her ‘love’, but you’ve come to terms with the fact you’ll never be able to follow her line of thought.
As you watch her like this, so hopelessly head over heels for someone who sees her as nothing more than a nuisance, your heart clenches. The Winter King describes her as the Kingdom’s sole and greatest enemy. He derides her unpredictability, her madness, as he calls it, and her twisted affection. But as you’ve spend time here in the Candy Kingdom, you’ve come to think that her behaviour is simply part of her species. You’ve never met a subject of hers, servant or otherwise, that acted unlike her. If that simply is the way she was born, the way she’s supposed to be, you can’t bring yourself to blame her for it. The Winter King always seems to leave her clutches unscathed, the same as you have.
You sit down on the floor next to her bed, leaning the back of your head against her mattress. The cover sticks a little your hair. You stare at the wall opposite of her bed, plastered with images of the Winter King. The sea of blue stands in harsh contrast with pinks of the rest of her decor. Without thinking, you sigh.
Wouldn’t it be so much better if she had an interest in someone else, if she pursued someone had a chance of returning her feelings? There has to be a perfect match out there for her, in this whole wide world. You just know that it isn’t the Winter King. He won’t care about her, not ever. He’s spelled it out for her so many times. But time and time again, she pursues him in her own way, and time and time again, she is rejected. You can’t grasp how she can cope with it, given her feelings are so all-consuming.
“Candy?” You crane your head upwards, and you can just barely see her legs still swishing in the air.
“Wait. I’m having a moment.” She lets out a scream that she muffles with her pillow. The whole bed bounces up and down behind as she kicks strongly into the mattress, squealing the whole time. One of her feet whizzes just over your head as she rolls from left to right. She must have found a picture she particularly likes. You’re curious which one it is, but she doesn’t let you look at them once she’s glued them to her diary. She exhales loudly, and the bed gives a final creak.
“Okay. Moment over.”
You know you are treading onto uneven ground here. One of the first lessons the Winter King taught you upon taking you in, was the look of a frozen lake that might give away underneath your feet. Now, it feels like you are jumping onto one of the exact spots he told you to avoid. To the right of your head, you see the tip of her boot peeking over the side of her bed. It bobs up and down, up and down.
“What do you like so much about the Winter King, anyway?”
Her foot stops moving. The entire bed goes still. In tandem, you start to think of escapes out of this conversation. Candy, however, only hums in response. First in thought and, after a few seconds, she makes a silly little tune out of it. She must be working on a new original. Whenever she does, she can’t get it out of her head for days, or so she’s told you.
“I dunno! That’s a mean question, ‘cause I can’t just pick one thing. I like… Everything! I think. I need us to be together, forever!” She sucks on her bottom lip, and releases it with a pop. “He’s stuck in my brain, like… A stick inside a lollipop! Part of the same thing.”
You can feel her moving, but you still jump as Candy hangs over you, all at once. Her hair is almost like a wall with the way it hangs past your sides, caging you in between her and the bed. “But why do you wanna know so bad, hmmm?” She’s still smiling, and that’s a good thing. You think. With her being upside down, it’s difficult to tell if she’s really smiling in the first place, or baring her fangs. She squints at you. “What are you trying to do? You can’t have him. He’s mine, you ding dong!”
Despite yourself, you freeze up. Those teeth of hers always look so much sharper up close. The familiar warnings, the ones that you could recite by heart at this point, ring out in your ear. Unlike the Winter King however, you’ve actually tried to hold a conversation with Candy before. You know how to handle her, in a sense, without the situation escalating any further.
Without hesitation, you stick out your finger, and press the tip of it to her nose. “Boop.”
There is a beat of silence. Then, she dissolves into a fit of giggles, her whole chest rising and falling with her laughter. You smile back at her. As she laughs harder, her whole physical form melts away into glowing, pink goo. You shudder as Candy drips down your shoulders and over the front of your shirt. Thankfully, that form of hers never leaves any residue. You’d have no clue how to explain those stains. All of her gathers up on the floor, in between your knees. You spread your legs wider, just as Candy forms back into her usual appearance.
“Boop!” The tip of her fingers finds your nose, just as you’d done moments prior. Her knees bump against the insides of your thighs, and her nose nearly pokes your cheek. With every inhale, all you can smell is cotton candy. You don’t mind the closeness. She is always clingy, albeit in her own way. “You’re so silly. I like that about you.” Candy tilts her head to the side, her smile and eyes widening. “But I was being serious.”
“I know you were,” you tell her. A packaged piece of candy dangles out of her hair, almost falling out, and you carefully push it back in. She doesn’t even blink. “I didn’t walk to talk about him, though. I wanted to talk about you, Candy.”
She blinks owlishly at you. The corners of her mouth droop, but she doesn’t quite loser her smile. She shakes her head, then opens her mouth, and starts to pick something out from between her teeth with her fingernail. Candy must have not been listening at all.
“Go on,” she says, proving you wrong. The words come out distorted, as she doesn’t bother to take her finger out of her mouth as she speaks.
“I get that you really, really like the Winter King. Like, a lot. But don’t you think you could try and get over him, to find someone who’s better for you?”
Candy throws her head backs, and laughs. And laughs, and laughs. At the sudden jerk of her head, she cut an indent into her finger. She doesn’t bleed, however. Right in front of your eyes, her ‘skin’ merely closes shut again. Her laughter continues on, and its loud enough to make your ears ring. Every breath of hers is a desperate wheeze. With how much she’s shaking, you can only pity her ribs and guts. …If she has them, that is.
She sighs loudly as she sits upright again, and wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. “That’s the hardest I’ve laughed in years! Better?! Lemme know when you find one!” She rests her elbow on her knee, then leans her cheek on her hand. “He’s the one I need.”
“But that doesn’t it hurt, always getting rejected?” You cannot stop the hint of desperation entering your voice. There has to be a better life for her out there, better than whatever this is. “You’re pretty, Candy. And sweet, too, obviously. I’m sure there’s someone out there, who can really appreciate you, and who is more like you. I think you deserve that. I… I want you to be happy.” With Candy, you’ve learned to spell out what you’re trying to say as literally as possible, lest she misunderstand.
You pity her, this girl, alone in her kingdom, with no one but her servants for company, endlessly chasing a man who will never give her the time of day. She deserves understanding. It has to be a lonely existence, going without it.
Candy’s expression shifts, her face going entirely blank. “I can’t be. Not until I have him.” As soon as the moment comes, it’s over, and you have no time to process it. She bursts into high-pitched giggles and slings an arm around the back of your neck before throwing herself firmly into your lap.
“Candy!” You sputter, trying to turn your head away from her. As soon as you try though, she places a hand on your cheek, and forces you to look her in the eye again. Your face heats up underneath her touch. She pinches your skin between two of her fingers, and pulls on it. She ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’s at the consistency and texture of your skin. You swallow. Do you hate this? …No, you hesitantly admit to yourself. It’s definitely not the kind of message you were trying to get across, though!
Her eyes slide half-shut, her smile lopsided and soft around the edges. “Hehe. I thought you wanted to talk about me, but what you really wanted was me, huuh?” She puts both of her hands on your face, and squishes. “I’m prettyyyy, I’m sweeeeeet! You said so!” She repeats after you, before bursting into giggles again. “I’m sorry, sugar, but my heart has already been stolen!” One of her hands slowly slides down your cheek.
“Um… Well, what I was trying to say was— Mrph!” She slaps her palm over your mouth, cutting off the rest of your sentence.
“No need to say anything more, baby!” Candy laughs again. She leans forward, burying her nose in the crook of her neck, and inhaling deeply. “Hmmm, but I do like you. You’re a lot warmer. But you smell a little like him… Like chocolate milk, and pine trees— But still different.”
So many conflicting thoughts and feelings are rushing through you. Your face is burning up, and your stomach’s tied in knots. Wherever she touches you, her skin sticks to yours. Even as you squirm underneath her, Candy doesn’t budge in the slightest. You’re trapped. You gasp as you feel one of her fangs brush against your throat, and you can feel her grinning against your skin.
“Candy, you’re a bit too close…!” You squeak as you wheeze out the air in your lungs. She sticks her tongue out, and licks a stripe up the side of your neck, slow and deliberate.
Of course, it’s this exact moment that the Winter King makes his dramatic entrance, with a bang and a flourish. It’s nothing different from what you expect during your bi-weekly rescue. He throws his hair back as little pieces of ice sparkle in the air around him. His eyes are closed, one leg in front of the other. One hand is firmly closed around the hilt of his blade. All of this you can just barely make out in between Candy’s gravity-defying hair.
“Fair maiden, I have come to…” As the Winter King opens his eyes, the rest of his sentence dies in his throat. You’ve never seen him caught quite this off-guard before. The tip of his blade, that he’d just pulled from its sheath, droops and points to the floor. His mouth is hanging open. You’d spend more time burning the image into your mind, if 90% of your brain wasn’t busy wishing you could melt into a puddle on the floor like Candy could. He shakes his head, in a jerky, twitchy fashion, like he’s forcefully pulling himself back to reality.
Candy dislodges herself from your throat, smiling up at you. “It’s always a good idea to take you first! My baby always stops by, and then I get to see the both of you… If I just take him, you’d never show up!” You have to admit that she’s completely right about that observation.
“Unhand her, you fiend!” However much he’d been rattled before, the Winter King easily slips back into his character. His pose is, once again, as poised as ever. His eyes drift from yours to Candy, and back up again. “What’s the meaning of this?” He continues, his voice a lot more softer. It lacks his usual flair or dramatics and, for that exact reason, you swallow.
Candy detaches herself from your neck, and winks at you. “One moment, sugar.” She folds herself backward, landing on her hands, and looking at the Winter King while upside down. You watch with a mixture of horror and fascination. Whatever is inside her body, it can’t be a spine. She’s found the one way to look her ‘beloved’ in the eye, while continuing to straddle you.
“No meaning! She just told me I’m pretty, heehee! And sweet, too. It was really, really nice!” You can practically hear the pout in her voice as she continues to speak. “You could be a bit nicer to me, too, baby! Really, your little snowflake is a lot sweeter than you— And, since you’re my husband, that’s just plain wrong!”
“Ah. Is she, now?” The Winter King smiles and tilts his head a little to the left. He takes a step forward, and then another. His sword he lowers back down to his side. Goosebumps rush up your arms and legs from the sudden shift in the room’s temperature. When you let out a shuddering sigh, your breath forms a puff of white smoke in the air.
Right now, the Winter King unnerves you far more than Candy ever has.
Candy allows him to approach, making grabby hands at his ankles as he gets near. He remains just barely outside of her reach. Rather than pay her any mind, his focus is centered solely on you. You’re pinned down underneath his gaze. You’re not actually scared, you chastise yourself, you shouldn’t be! The knots in your stomach, and the rising of the hair on your arms, all of it is from something else. It doesn’t make any sense. You’re guilty about losing the approval of the one who has done so much for you, who took you in when you had nowhere else to go, in this world that is so unfamiliar to you. That’s all there is to it.
“I don’t know what kind of cotton candy nonsense she’s been spinning inside your head, dear, but I’d say it’s time we head home. Don’t you agree?”
Your tongue is tied. Candy’s eyes are unfocused, one of her eyeballs rolled up to focus on the Winter King, while the other looks at you. She starts to giggle, grin widening far enough to show off all of her fangs. You don’t trust the look on her face. Being around him always brings out the worst in her, without fail. Her legs tighten around your waist, the fingers that had been resting on your thighs dig into the skin. In a single, fluid motion, Candy shoots back up, and slams her mouth against yours.
“Mpphrph!” You cry out, eyes wide. Despite the unmistakable pressure of her lips against yours, it doesn’t feel like a kiss, exactly. She practically hit your lips with hers, and you feel like the skin is going to bruise. Even now, the pressure that she’s applying is far too strong to resemble anything intimate. Her aim hadn’t been quite right, either. Only about half of her mouth is actually over yours, and her fangs nick your bottom lip. She smiles against your mouth.
Taking advantage of your surprise, she shoves her tongue in between your parted lips. It’s long and smooth, without any of the ridges or bumps of a human tongue. The flavour of it is saccharine, the kind of sweetness that makes you think of rotting teeth. It goes in deep, so deep that it has your gag reflex protesting around her. Before the situation goes dire, however, the intrusion dissolves. It’s so contrary to your expectations, that your whole body shudders. Some of the thick substance, whatever it is, immediately slides down your throat. The tip of her tongue had been poking around down there, after all. You feel her smile against your mouth.
The Winter King rips Candy away from you by the back of her clothes, and tosses her to the side like she weighs nothing. She bounces twice on the floor, before lying still. She’s still laughing, so she’s fine, you think. You shiver from the cold. The floor cracks underneath the Winter King’s feet, pieces of eyes shaped like crystals sprouting from the floor like flowers. His glasses sit slightly askew on the tip of his nose.
You speak, before he has the chance to say anything. “I feel… A little weird…” You say, head lolling to one side as if you’d lost control over your own muscles. Your head feels light and loose, connected to reality only by the thinnest of threads, while your skin feels alight and sensitive. All at once, it is purely and utterly overwhelming. A drop of drool slides down your chin, though you swore you had your mouth closed.
A muscle at the corner of his mouth twitches. Still, his smile does not fade. “Snowflake, dear. Please open your mouth for me.” Your head feels woozier by the second. Where you were cold moments prior, a thrumming heat has settled underneath your skin. You giggle. Without thinking, you open your mouth wide. He kneels in front of you.
The Winter King drags the tip of his pointer finger over your tongue. It’s so cool, it’s such a relief. You sigh out at the touch, your eyes sliding shut. When you open them again, though your eyes are still half-lidded, he is staring at his finger, brow furrowed. There’s a light pink sheen over the blue of his skin, shimmering in the light. You have no idea what it is.
He sighs, heavily and dramatically. “Diagnosis: This is bad.” He places two of his hands on your face, and you shiver with delight. You let your head hang to the side, leaning into his side. For a moment, a flicker of a smile returns to his face. “You’re burning up. Okay, I know it’s going to be a little difficult, but you have to try for me, okay?” You nod. You have no idea what he’s asking for. “Okay. You’re going to try and think: Did you swallow any of it?” His fingers press hard into your cheeks.
“Um… Maybe? I think so…” A thick fog is blanketing your every thought. Pushing your way through it is like trudging through mud, or running on sand. “She kissed me pretty deeply. I remember that. I think I was about to gag.” As soon as you can, you give up your efforts on trying to be coherent, and just nuzzle into his hands.
The Winter King gives you a little pat on the cheek before letting go. “Thank you.”
He straightens up, and any calm on his expression immediately melts away. The set of his face temporarily jolts you back to reality. His lips are pressed into a thin line, and mist wafts from his fingers. Instinctively, you scramble backwards, but your back is already against the bed. There is nowhere else you can go. But none of his anger is directed at you.
Every step towards Candy Queen is a stomp. Frost forms underneath each one of his footsteps, showing exactly where he has walked. You clamber onto Candy Queen’s bed. The whole thing is a sticky mess. It’s worth it to see what’s going on. The urge to keep your eyes on the Winter King is unbearable. You feel like you fall apart the further he is away from you. Your skin itches.
“Candy Queen,” he practically hisses out her name. “I do not care how much of a nuisance you are to me. I know you will remain that way for as long as the both of us are alive. I can tolerate her being taken, as long as I can pick her up safe and sound. But this… Feeding a mere, poor human Candy essence? Making her swallow it?” He takes another loud step, and the floor cracks underneath his feet. “Do you want her dead? Is that it? The corruption levels on someone with little to no magic exposure are far too high…!” With every word, the pitch of his voice rises.
Candy lies on her back, lazily rotating her legs in the air. “You like her more than me. I thought I’d make her more like myself!”
The Winter King runs his fingers through his hair, almost tugging, and then groans. “I don’t even know why I’m saying any of this. Why I even bother with the likes of you.”
Candy laughs once again. “You’re talking to me, because you likeee—”
“Stop laughing!” His voice thunders around the room, and you shrink back. For a moment, his teeth sharpen, and his hair lifts up and moves around as if blown by an invisible wind. In the blink of an eye, Candy’s entire body is encased in ice. He breathes heavily, then laughs. “I know you’ll survive that. It wouldn’t be the first time. Your servants will thaw you out, eventually.”
Your fingers are digging into the fabric of your clothes. You feel like a block of ice has settled in your stomach. You might be out of it, you might be feeling a bit sick, but this is too intense to pass in front of your eyes without your notice. It feels like a bucket full of ice-cold water got dumped over you while you were fast asleep, a rude awakening to reality.
The Winter King takes a stumbling step back, and grabs at his face with both hands, patting down both of his cheeks. You shuffle back. For the first time, you are scared of the power that flows through his veins. It’s not something that can only create. That, in front of you, the Winter King only makes sparkles in the air, and paths for his subjects to walk on, doesn’t mean that it can’t be turned against others, too. It’s much more than the flurries of snowflakes he amuses you with when you’re bored or homesick. The further you scramble back from him, the further the feeling inside you solidifies.
He turns on his heel and strides towards you, placing both of his hands on the foot-end of the bed, leaning forward. His eyes have always fascinated you. He has an iris and pupils like you, but they are always covered in a sheen of white. Like cataract. Still, always, you could see his eyes moving beneath this troubled layer. Now, his eyeballs are empty. There is nothing there for you to see. You tuck your legs towards you, as close as you can.
“Princess!” He calls out, and even his voice sounds unlike his own. The Winter King tilts his head to the side, almost like he is hearing something far, far away. Then, he shakes his head, and blinks. Some of the light returns to his eyes. “No… What am I saying? I…” He visibly swallows. His fingers bunch up the bedsheets underneath his touch. He doesn’t advance any further towards you, and you are thankful for it.
“I’m sorry you’ve seen me in such a state today, snowflake. It’s unbecoming. But, please, don’t look at me like that, with such fear in your eyes. Wasn’t it I, who took you in, when you had nowhere else to go? Who gave you food, shelter, and company? My home is yours. If it weren’t for me…” He inhales, long and deep. “You can trust me. I’ve shown you that you can depend on me! What have I done for you to look at me so?”
“But… But you killed her.” You say, your voice trembling. Already, you can feel the adrenaline wearing off again. Your tongue growing sluggish, the ants moving underneath your skin. Barely, you suppress the urge to whimper.
“Pah!” He laughs, loud and short. “As if that could kill her. No, no— If it could, she’d be dead a long time ago. You wouldn’t be so eager to defend her, if you knew what kind of war is being waged inside your body right now, dear!” His voice goes up in pitch, desperation clinging to the words. Then, he seems to recompose himself, yet his words are more serious than you’ve ever heard him.
In between the two of you, a shimmering illusion takes form in the air, one that you have seen so many times before. Usually, it pains quaint little images, from pine trees swishing gently in the trees, or his recreation from the supposed creatures around the Land of Ooo that he won’t let you see on your own.
“As we speak, your own body is fighting itself. You can feel it, can’t you? Your skin hurts, and your thoughts are getting more and more difficult… It’ll only grow worse. That menace will turn you into a smiling, dimwitted wreck. The longer we wait, the more of yourself you’ll lose, dear. Believe me, I had every right to get upset for your sake.”
“I-is that an accurate depiction?!” You nearly squeak.
The Winter King waves his hand. “Oh, I would call it more of an artistic one! Your situation is rather unique indeed, I had to take some liberties. But, yes, close enough.”
Your head is swimming, your pulse quick, and your breaths even quicker. “Will I… Be okay?” But now that he has mentioned them, your symptoms only seem to grow worse by the second. Your skull is too heavy for your neck, your lips to heavy to keep closed. (And, somewhere inside you, the urge for him grows. You need to be near him. You need him to touch you. You need to be one with him.)
The Winter King lifts one arm into the air and flicks his wrist, almost as if he’s trying to flick your worries away. “Shh, of course you will!” He says with a sudden air of nonchalance that has your already muddled brain even more confused. “I have a laboratory for a reason! We will need to get there, though. Like, right now.”
He walks over to the side of the bed. You no longer have any urge to turn away from him as he approaches. With every passing moment, you can feel the symptoms of the illness he described to you intensifying. It’s living, breathing proof that he’s telling the truth. You can’t forget the sight of Candy, frozen in a block of ice, on the ground. Still, he really has been the only one to ever come to your rescue. Today has thrown you off-balance, but you’re more scared of whatever parasite is wrecking its way through your body, than the man who has saved you countless times over.
The Winter King reaches out to you, but seems to change his mind at the last moment. He turns around, going on one knee besides the bed, but with his back turned towards you. “Climb on,” he says, looking over his shoulder at you. “I know carrying you in my arms would be far more romantic and fitting, but I need to focus to get us home quickly.”
You shuffle over, and as your arms wrap around his neck, and your legs around his waist, you feel worse and better at the same time. Physically, you are less uncomfortable. It’s like you have found the exact spot where your itch is, with the Winter King’s natural body temperature cooling down the flames lapping at your skin. At the same time, thinking clearly becomes so, so much harder. The scent of chocolate milk and pine trees, exactly as Candy had described him, fills your nose, and makes you melt. Involuntarily, you let out a whimper.
“Poor thing,” the Winter King says as he gets up. With ease, despite the weight of you on his back. “Let’s get you home.”
You rest your head on his shoulder. Instead of walking, a pathway of ice forms right underneath the Winter King’s feet, and he skates over it with ease. Deftly, he maneuvers his way around the Candy Queen’s subjects, guards, and the machine still waiting at her entrance. As the ground underneath your feet gives away, your special path of ice doesn’t. The quickly shrinking logical part of your brain recognises that is the time for your fear of heights to kick in, but it doesn’t. Your head is just fuzzy. He is steady as ever underneath you, never losing his balance. At the same time, he has never been this quiet. You glance over your shoulder. Behind you, the ice he left behind is dissolving.
As the quiet stretches on, it becomes harder and harder to ground yourself. Your body starts to heat up once again despite the icy wind whipping around you, and the icy man you are pressed up against. Your neck loses all its strength. In the end, your head rests sideways on his shoulder, your ear pressed against him. His hair keeps brushing, or almost touching, your face. Without shame, the concept of that seems to have left you entirely, you take a deep inhale. You’re resting so close to his ear that he has no choice except to hear it. He lets out a breathy, short laugh.
Past his shoulder, you can see one of his fists closed, the other hand is open, with its palm opened towards the sky. Through half-open eyes, you stare. His hands are aglow with a faint blue light, the evidence of his powers. His powers… The thought catches in your brain, and doesn’t loosens. There’s something about his magic, something that you have forgotten but that your body remembers. Your gaze shifts without you prompting it to.
His crown sits in the middle of its head, as it always does. Its yellow colour seems blinding to you now, sparkling bright like starlight. The rubies on it gleam, reflecting non-existent beams of sun. You have to touch it. Just a little. Or maybe a bit more.
The movement of your arm as you reach out is heavy and slow. It feels as if the air is made out of molten caramel, and you are slowly wading your way through it. But with the end goal so clear in sight, and so beautiful, you cannot give up. Just as your fingers are a mere hair’s length away, the Winter King’s fist closes around your wrist. For the first time, he stumbles, the walkway underneath his feet having to veer off-course to make up for it.
“Ah, ah, ah,” the Winter King tuts. He keeps his hand firmly locked around you. “No touching that, snowflake. I’m aware that every single part of me is simply irresistible, but, please, keep your hands to yourself for now.” The rest of his sentence is mumbled, most of the words lost to the wind. “…hers, alright…”
You feebly try to wriggle your way out of his hold, though it has little effect. “’S important.” You say in return, your tongue catching on the ‘s’ and drawing it out. You clench your legs around his waist tighter, shifting your weight around.
“It’s important for you not to touch it,” he tells you in response. Tears spring to your eyes, though you aren’t sure why. They feel cold as they drip down your cheeks. As soon as they hit the Winter King’s skin, they turn into tiny, frozen pebbles.
The Winter Kingdom looms up in front of you, all at once. You hadn’t realised you’d gotten so close to it. When the sun shines on the castle of ice just right, it’s blinding to the eyes. For a moment, a memory bubbles up to the surface of your mind: How you’d wandered here in the utter freezing temperatures, looking at cute little homes with no smoke coming from their chimneys, and how the castle had awed you enough to temporarily distract you from the cold seeping into your very bones. Now, you feel warm enough that you might never be cold again.
What clues you in to your actual arrival is the crunching of snow underneath the Winter King’s shoes as he jumps down, and the smell of pine trees that hangs pervasive in the air, blanketing the whole kingdom.
“Home…” You mumble. Your face is so close to the Winter King’s ear however, that he hears anything you say, no matter how softly it may be spoken.
“Yes, dearest,” he responds, giving your wrist a final squeeze. He lets go of your hand. It’s a hesitant, slow departure, like he has to pry each finger loose with effort. As if his hand was frozen to yours, and it takes time to thaw. “We’re home, now. I expect you’ll think twice before heading off on some silly trip again, won’t you?”
You don’t respond. You hardly register what he’s saying, really. You are caught up in breathing in the cold air, filling your lungs to the brim with it, and hoping the relief will spread throughout your entire body. The layer of sweat that has settled on your skin underneath your clothes, all in different, albeit matching, shades of blue, is starting to cool off. It’s like being wrapped in a cooling blanket, and you smile. Before, all that was preventing you from clawing at your skin was the necessity of holding on to the Winter King, but now you feel no urge to scratch.
Suddenly, the Ice Scouts’ voices burst from left and right.
“Is she alright?”
“Should we carry her?”
Their voices are jarring, and louder than they usually are. They are all grace and fluidity always, and you don’t notice their approach at the best of times. Now is not one of those times. Your head pounds. You bury your face further against him, in an attempt to escape it.
“She will be alright. Yes, yes,” The Winter King says, with enough casualty to make your recovery sound assured and unquestionable. (You know that you will recover, you know that you will get better, and all that you have to do is be one with him. And never let go again, forever, and ever, and ever.) “You may take her from me, but do not venture far. I must make some preparations in the lab, and search… Ahem, find the necessary instruments.”
Though the full reality of his words should have been immediately clear to you, you only start to whimper when the slender, freezing hands of an Ice Scout come into contact with your back. You cling to him like a lifeline, nails clawing at him like a cat clawing at a scratching post. Despite this, you are still smiling, wide enough for your eyes to be nearly squeezed shut. The muscles in your cheek spasm under the strain, yet you cannot stop.
The Winter King hisses, and as he exhales, you watch the steam of his breath rise up into the air. “I hear you— Well, more like feel you, hah!” He continues, lowering his voice. “You poor thing. You must be uncomfortable enough as it is, and I would be a poor king to exacerbate it.”
With a flick of his wrist, and a rise of his chin, he dismisses his servants. “Nevermind, you two! Can’t you see the lady herself has spoken? Off with you, now.”
You blink, and an uncertain amount of time has passed. The Winter King has looped one of his arms over yours, keeping you extra steady as he maneuvers his way through his castle. The sound of his movements is sharp. A muted thought pops into your head. For once, he’s not moving around on his shoes, but he must’ve put blades underneath them instead. He’s cutting corners. It’s funny. You laugh, and you laugh, and you laugh, and even your tears are cold against your skin.
The deeper you go into his castle, the colder it gets. His laboratory is tucked away far from where the occasional wandering visitor or servant might find it. By now, your lips are stretched high enough, and your muscles are twitching enough, for your vision to be nothing more than a blur. Still, you recognise the sound of the sliding door entrance. He had taken you here when you had first arrived, poked and prodded at you for a bit, before proclaiming you a human. Your addled brain knows what to expect here. You will be put down and left alone, the last thing you want.
You whine. Rather than just your nose, you press your twitchy, stretched thin mouth against his skin. You are overwhelmed with the urge to lap and suck, your mouth latching on to the flesh of his throat. The Winter King lets out a shuddering sigh in response, before placing a hand against the side of your head, and pushing you away. Your mouth releases from his skin with a pop, leaving a darker mark in it's wake.
"Dear, you are going to make me do something very unethical, if you keep that up." He laughs, and it’s an airy, weightless sound. You find yourself laughing along.
The Winter King places his hand around your fingers, and you expect a kind, grounding gesture. One by one, he removes your fingers from the fabric of his vest. Despite protesting as much as you can, he bends your digits as easily as one does straw. He plops you down on a chair which, by the feel of it, he just manifested out of ice.
“I stand by my earlier diagnosis, as of now. This is pretty bad.” The Winter King says, the blue blur on your vision suggesting he’s hanging over you. His heel squeaks on the floor as he turns around. “Muscle relaxant, muscle relaxant…” His muttering echoes in the room made entirely of ice.
Your sutures have been removed too early. Feverish, sickening heat washes over you in waves. The current is too strong, and you don’t stand a chance. You press your face against the freezing back of the chair, but it’s not enough. It’s not what you need, not even close to it. You shift your weight around, rubbing your arms and legs against the sides.
When, on shaky legs, you attempt to get up, icy shackles click in place around your ankles with a clear snap of his fingers. You sniffle. A pitiful noise is wrenched from your throat, any words currently lots to you.
“It’s for your own safety, snowflake, I promise.” The Winter King’s voice sounds from across the room. He’s digging through drawers, shelves, and whatever else is in that corner of the room— You’ve never looked, and you can’t hold a string of thought long enough to consider what might be. Spit dribbles from the corner of your mouth. The itching has grown unbearable, and your nails find their way to your arms. Through the fabric of your clothes, you scratch, hissing in the cold air through grit teeth.
You think the whole world is falling apart you, when a cooling palm presses against your forehead. Everything’s alright again, it’s okay, it’s all fine. Your fingers slow down with each new scratch, before halting entirely.
“This will burn a little,” the Winter King warns you. He pushes your head back a couple of degrees, and then sprays something into both of your nostrils in quick succession. Your entire face scrunches up. The warning hadn’t been unwarranted, you can feel the substance burn its way through your system. It doesn’t hurt more than your exhausted muscles, however. Tears slide down your cheeks as you try to swallow a mouthful of saliva. Your chest shakes and contracts, though you can’t tell whether they are sobs or bouts of laughter.
“Shh, shhhh.” The Winter King attempts to shush you, kneeling in front of you as he wipes away your tears with a handkerchief. “It’s only going to get better from here on out.” As the seconds pass, some much-needed relaxation washes over your face. It cannot wipe the smile off of your face entirely. It remains, lopsided and unsteady. Still, you can see again.
The Winter King is sitting on a tiny stool in front of you, pen in hand and taking notes. His face is uncharacteristically serious, the deep lines in his face indicating his concentration. It’s like you’re looking at a different man.
“Dilated pupils. Unnatural facial movement, appearing as a smile…” He places one of his hands on your forehead once again, the other continuing to write. “Extremely high body heat.” Then, he moves on to place a thumb over your pulse. “Heightened heart rate.” As soon as he pulls his hand back, you reach out your arm, in an attempt to guide him back. “…And an uncontrollable urge to be close to me, it seems.” He huffs. The Winter King leans his head back, and clicks his tongue, multiple times in a row. “Well, it’s her essence, alright.” His eyes glide up and down your body. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
The words are audible, but they find nowhere to hold onto inside your brain. All of the words, individually, make sense. That is where your understanding ends. There’s no way for you to string their meaning together.
“I suspected as much.” As he cups one of your cheeks in his hand, you lean into the touch as much as you can, rubbing your nose against his palm. By now, your symptoms have worsened to the point that not even his touch can cool you down. If it weren’t for the relaxant he’d given you, you’d be straining against your cuffs in order to get to him. Your brain is focused on a single pinpoint: him.
You no longer have a concept of shame. Both of your hands reach for his, grabbing onto his wrist, and dragging his palm over your face. It’s easy, there is no resistance from his side. When they come closer to your mouth, you lean forward, and take one of his fingers in between your lips, sucking on it. You try to appeal to him further, the only way you know how, the smile on your face widening. Your head is filled to the brim and light at the same time, stuffed full of cotton candy.
“Winterrr…” You slur out his name, tongue caressing his finger as you do so. The world is garbled nearly beyond recognition. Both because of the intrusion, and the fact your tongue doesn’t listen to all of your unconscious commands. Your brain feels like it’s leaking out of your ears. You are hardly in control of yourself anymore. It would have been terrifying, had you had the ability to remember you were ever in control in the first place. All you know is this moment, this exact time and place. “Pleaaase…”
Drool is pooling onto your lap. The Winter King stares at you for a good few seconds, gaze intense. He doesn’t pull away, but neither does he lean in. A droplet of water slides over his forehead. For a moment, it hangs off of the tip of his nose, before dripping down, like from the point of an icicle.
“Me? It’s me you need, snowflake? It’s me you want?” There is a breathless in his voice, an anticipation in his tone that set your nerves impossible more alight. You’re nodding. All you can recognise in his voice is a kind of desire, and you’re nodding. There’s nothing you’ve ever wanted more.
“Aaaah, can I really do this…?” The Winter King says, smiling creeping onto his face. At the same time, he’s stuffing multiple of his digits into your mouth, practically fingering you as he runs the pads of them over your teeth and tongue. His other hand finds your wrist again, and he presses down with his thumb. “It seems to calm you down.”
He takes your tongue in between two of his fingers, and rubs both sides of it at once. Your eyes grow hazy, your head lolls to the side. Full-body shivers wreck your body, goosebumps spreading absolutely everywhere. Your core throbs.
The Winter King laughs, clear and pretty as bells. “Well, now isn’t the time to suddenly grow a moral compass, is it? It’s clear what you want. What you need.” He pulls away from your mouth. Holding his fingers in front of his face, he looks at the strings of saliva connecting them, slowly pulling them further apart, and bringing them back together. “I don’t know anything else that might make you feel better, dear— And I’m only saying that, because I know you won’t remember a thing. Not with that pretty, little head of yours being as empty as it is right now.”
He shakes his head. “Haaah, I don’t even know why I’m saying any of this, anymore. But it feels nice to fill the silence, doesn’t it? I do have a lovely voice. I’m sure you’d agree, if you could.”
You squirm in your seat. Any moment without the Winter King is a moment too long, in your mind. Once again, you reach out for his hand, but he keeps it just outside of your reach. Your heart clenches.
“Don’t worry, dear. I’ll give you something much, much better.”
Your knees bump against his. You spread your legs as wide as they can possibly go, and he rests his knees on the inside of them, moving the stool closer. His smile is graceful and steady, not flush on his cheeks to be seen. With two fingers, he grabs his glasses off of the bridge of his nose, folds the legs up, and puts it on a table a little to the side. It would be a great show of self-restraint. Would be, because his hands are trembling. His every breath is a puff of smoke. You might be a total mess, but he is cracking at the seams himself.
He holds your face in both of his hands, one of his fingers rubbing circles on your cheek. The Winter King leans in, angling his face just right, so his nose doesn’t end up anywhere you wouldn’t want it to be. It’s all you’ve ever read or heard about. Descriptions of kisses that feel like fireworks going off, or butterflies eating away at your insides— It’s more overwhelming than any of that. Your whole body feels as if it’s been alight at once. His lips are silky smooth, and merely cool to the touch, rather than cold.
One of his hand moves to rest on top of your hair, adjusting the position of your head just a tad. Your mouth is already hanging open. Frankly, your entire jaw is slack. You couldn’t even close it if you had tried, so little control over your muscles do you have left. His tongue slips inside you without any effort or resistance. It brushes against yours, and…
He breaks the moment. The Winter King jerks his head back, smacking his lips together. His face is ever so slightly scrunched up. You lean forward as best as you can, trying to follow the kiss and recapture it, to no avail. Instead, you settle for what you can. You lick the remainder of his touch from your lips.
“Sorry about that, snowflake,” he says, voice low. “You still taste like her. It surprised me, that’s all. It’s not your fault.” He hums, leaning in close again, and a more teasing smile plays around his lips. “Let’s change that together, shall we?”
The Winter King kisses you with renewed energy. It’s like he sets out to reclaim crevice over your mouth, his tongue running over both your tongue and palate. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes once again, and your entire body is shaking. With what limited power you have, you suck his tongue further into your mouth, as hard as you can. For the first time, Winter’s control wavers, and he lets out a muffled little noise.
This is it, this is exactly it, and as soon as you think that, it’s not enough anymore. You need him further inside you, you need infinitely more of him. Merely his spit mixing with yours isn’t deep enough of a connection.
With a bit of effort, the Winter King detaches his mouth from yours. A thick string of drool connects your mouths. He catches it on his finger, and stuffs it back inside your mouth. His eyes are half-lidded and his smile is as lopsided of your own, a dark blue hue tinting the space underneath his eyes.
“Heehee,” he laughs, out of breath. His cobalt tongue peeks past his lips for just a moment. “Oh, dear, you’re not trying to eat me, are you?”
Your head grows a little clearer, the more and more he touches you. Not enough to speak, but enough to understand what he’s saying again. You shake your head. The whole world spins around you at the motion, swirling with seasickness. Eating is not quite right.
His eyes light up at the evidence of your understanding, little stars twinkling in his eyes as he claps his hands together. He has such silly ways to show his excitement. It’s really, really cute.
As soon as the thought forms in your head, it quickly slips back out of your fingers. Your arms itch. Every time you feel release, it never lasts. It hurts. Once again, your tears threaten to spill over, and your fingers claw at the armrests of your impromptu, icy chair. They find nothing to hold on to.
“It’s not enough, hm? Of course it isn’t. You greedy little thing,” he says with nothing except for affection in his tone. “I think I know what you want snowflake. Allow me to help.”
The Winter King lowers his hands, one of them tapping in a steady rhythm on the inside of your thigh, while the other pressed against your clothed crotch. Your legs were already spread wide open for him. The coldness of his fingers radiates even through the fabric of your clothes. As he starts to rub, teasingly pulling at your waistband, before letting the fabric hit your skin again, your whole body seizes. This… Isn’t it. This isn’t making the heat any better, it’s only making it worse.
Your ankles push up against your restraints. You try to wriggle away, and put both of your hands on his arm. The Winter King immediately relents. He holds both of his hands in front of his chest, turned toward you in a sign of surrender. You close your thighs, chewing on your bottom lip.
“Well, that’s a ‘no’. Clearly. You didn’t need your voice to tell me that much.” His gaze drifts down to his hands, then back to your face. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, snowflake. I simply assumed… It’d be a lot easier if you could talk to me, but I know that’s not an option right now. Alas.”
He stands up, and pushes the stool backward with his foot. “You can understand what I’m saying, so let’s do it like this. I ask you now: What do you want?” The Winter King runs a hand through his hair, flipping it over his shoulder. “I know I love to make things about myself, but in this situation… Let’s not. Maybe try to point at what you want, hm?”
Slowly, you nod. Without really thinking about it, you reach out and press your hand against the obvious bulge in his pants, before pointing at your mouth with your other hand. All the while, you’re smiling up at him.
The Winter King lets out a sound somewhere in between a cough and a laugh, before genuinely cracking up. “Ha— Hahaha, oh, snowflake… Really, I know I should be worried about your life right now, and trust me, I am, but… Ohhh, you’re even flustering me at this rate,” He winks at you, a blue flush having spread over most of his face. “And that’s an achievement, you can trust me on that. Though I should have expected that kind of response, shouldn’t I?” He drags a finger quickly past the corner of his eye, like wiping away a single tear.
He places his hand over his chest. “Out of the goodness of my heart, I’ll let you suck my cock, dear…! Kidding. I’d let you do that any day.” Even in your current state, you can tell he’s finding himself far too hilarious, as usual. You groan, contemplating hitting him, before your addled brain comes up with a much better idea.
You massage him through his pants, cupping and squeezing him. Immediately the majority of the smile melts off of his face, and he hisses in a breath.
“Yes, yes, dearest. I understand. Your wish is my command. Let go for a moment now, will you?”
He pulls his pants and underwear down the minimal amount, entirely dressed excepted the hard cock a little way away from your face. Underneath you, the chair made out of ice molds and changes, presenting you at the perfect height to suck him off.
All of this floats right by you. You go nearly cross-eyed while staring at his cock. It’s pretty and thick, with a bead of precum on the top. Though, at this point, you don’t care what it looks like. Your entire body is wound tight, full of anticipation for this exact, specific moment. You feel like your mouth is dry from how much you’ve been drooling, trails of saliva turning to near-frost on your skin.
His fingers lace themselves through your hair, most of his hand at the back of your head. “That’s a delicious look on you, snowflake. You should reserve it just for me, yes?” His nails tickle as he presses his dick against your lips, smearing himself over them. With no hesitation, you open your mouth and take his head in. Immediately, he lets out a sigh, his eyes rolling up.
“I’d forgotten how warm a human mouth is… I love it.” He moans, loud and unapologetic as you suck on him, tongue still too relaxed to move much. The taste of him, especially his precum, flits through your mind for just a moment. It doesn’t taste like much of anything, almost like water. “You’re doing wonderful, sweetheart.
You try to lean forward, wanting to take as much of him in at once in your feverish haze. The Winter King, however, keeps a steady hold on you, and keeps your head firmly against the back of your seat. He shushes you as you protest around him.
(Somewhere, in the very back of your mind, underneath the layers of magic you’ve been put under, there is shame. You must look like a mess right now. Unlike yourself, smiling creepily around his cock, and forward in a way you wouldn’t have been otherwise. Whatever you’re doing to him can be described as sloppy as best. You would have preferred your first time with him to be anything except for this, something stained with urgency beyond simple desire. Yet, he looks at you like there is nothing ugly about you.)
“I’m going to help you take as much of as me as possible, sweetheart. But not like that.” He pets the top of your head. “Deep breaths, deep breaths. Or…” He hums, lost in thought for a moment. His cock twitches inside your mouth. “I wonder, would that spray have relaxed your gag reflex as well?”
You don’t notice his scientific curiosity. All you can tell is that he’s given you exactly what you’d been fantasizing about, and you hum in pleasure around his dick. You’re right where you’re supposed to be, you’re one. You can’t be much more than a cocksleeve wrapped around him, but the Winter King doesn’t seem too mind. He breathes heavily, starting out with shallow thrusts in your mouth, that push beyond what your body should be able to handle without any issue. You have no urge to gag, and you smile wider.
“Ohhh, that’s so hot,” he gasps out. “You’ve given me some wonderful ideas for the future, snowflake,” he babbles to no one except himself. “I wasn’t even planning on getting myself off during this, dear, but this is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” He lets out a long groan as he bottoms out inside your mouth, simply reveling in the warm, wet heat of you.
“Mm, next time, I’ll truly make this all about you, promise.” He rubs your hair in an affectionate, soothing manner. “I don’t want this to end just yet,” he admits, laughter breathy. “But that would be awfully selfish of me, wouldn’t it?”
You stare up at him through hazy eyes that are glossy with tears. This is good, it’s beautiful, it’s wonderful, but you need him to cum right down your throat. The inside of your mouth is so cold, cold enough that you feel like your tongue might freeze to the bottom of your mouth. That he won’t be able to pull out by the time he’s done with you, and be stuck inside you for the next couple of hours. You shudder with nothing but pleasure.
Yet, this prospect is not enough to drive out the immediate need inside you, and you look at the Winter King which as must pleading as you think you can muster. You hum around his cock, running your tongue along the underside of him the best he can.
“I know, snowflake, I know,” he says and, then, starts to move once again, always keeping more than half of his cock inside your mouth. “I can tell you I usually last longer than this,” he says, starting to ramble again. “But for you, for you, I will—”
He lets out a guttural moan, pulled from the depths of his throat as his fingers twitch against your scalp. It’s your name he whines out as he cums right down your throat, his hips jerking forwards a few more times as he releases every last drop inside of you. You don’t even have to swallow to take all of it in. Without thinking about it at all, you try to speak yourself, though the words are obviously lost to him, nothing more than gurgles. (You love, him, you love him, you love him.)
Resting his hand on the back of the chair, he looms over you, breathing heavily. Droplets of water run down his face, and drip down his nose. His shoulder are slumped in bliss, his face entirely relaxed, and without pretense. Mindlessly, you continue to suck on his cock, though some of the fog inside your head is already starting to clear. The Winter King hisses and pulls out.
“A bit too soon for that, my snowflake.”
He pets your head for a few seconds longer, and with slightly shaky hands wipes the area around your mouth clean. The fact it doesn’t freeze on your skin is a testament to his amount of self-control. You rest your head against the, honestly, uncomfortable chair, and close your eyes.
You breathe deeply, in and out. The itching underneath your skin is the first thing that disappears. It’s like your whole body has been cleansed, rinsed from all of the filth. Instead of feeling warm, a complete and utter chill is wrapping itself around your body. Your teeth start to clatter together with an audible clicking sound, and you wrap your arms around yourself.
You groan as you blink, time and time again. You feel like garbage. Utter garbage, in fact. You’re shivering with the kind of cold-heat only found in illness, and it feels as if there’s ice in your mouth. Like your teeth are frozen against each other, completely stuck. That’s not even mentioning your eyelids, which are as heavy as rocks.
It’s only when you feel something wrapping around you, multiple times, in fact, that you become aware of more than your bodily discomfort. You try to move your arms and legs, but find it nearly impossible to do so. You manage to crack open your eyes. The sight of the Winter King, carrying another blanket in his arms, becomes obvious to you. You’re already swaddled in the things.
“N-no. That’s enough.” You nearly flinch from how poorly your own voice sounds. “Did you really need to use that many blankets…?” You ask, your throat sore and voice hoarse. Your memories are hazy at best. You remember going to Candy’s place to hang out, and then… Wait, uh, are you remembering wrong, or did she kiss you? You don’t have much time to ponder it, as the Winter King is immediately all over you.
“Oh, dearest!” He drops to his knees in front of you, shaking you around. “I thought you were done for, truly! All at once, you became freezing…! I really didn’t have a clue what to do, as you know, my specialty doesn’t lie in heating things up,” he continues, rambling. He’s speaking enough that you know he’s been genuinely worried. “I’m glad you’re okay, well, you seem fine enough to me! Believe me, I was about to chuck you into the hot springs.”
“Hot springs?” You ask, frowning. Since when do you have hot springs?
“Forget I said that.” He says, incredibly quickly, within a single breath. You snort, cracking up a little. Laughing, for whatever reason, is hurting your chest. “Nooo, none of that, snowflake! You’re being awfully cruel to me. I told you to forget about it, didn’t I?” But as you laugh more, his own smile widens, soft around the edges as it is.
“Tell me about the hot springs,” you say. He sighs loudly, and scoops you off of your seat and into his arms, making you sputter. As bundled up as you are however, you can’t protest at all. You must look very silly to an outside observer. It’s only then that you notice that you are in his laboratory. You really have to ask what happened exactly later.
“It was supposed to be a surprise,” he says, punctuating his sentence with a groan.
“Well, it’s clearly not anymore, so you should just tell me already.” The offended look on his face only makes you chuckle again.
“It’s what I’ve been working on, on and off for the past few weeks,” he says, relenting to your wishes as he exits the room. Maybe you shouldn’t be as used to being carried around like this, but you hardly think about it anymore. “I figured that you needed to have a place to warm up, for once! It’s near the mountains. I had to dig it up, all on my own! None of my subjects want to get anywhere close to hot water, can you imagine?”
You totally can, but you digress.
“So, well… That’s the reason I haven’t been around as much lately, dearest. And I guess that’s exactly what sent you off running into her arms, hm?” You pinches your cheek, a little too hard to be merely affectionate.
“Well, I wouldn’t really call it—” You protest.
“You must have been awfully lonely indeed!” He loudly continues, rubbing his thumb over the spot he’d just pinched. “But I will be honest with you, dear, you were in a dangerous situation today. Do you truly think I warned you so, so many times, merely for the sake of it? You could have died, all because of a whim of hers!”
“Is that what happened?” You ask, voice soft, nearly a whisper.
“Oh? You can’t remember?” You shake your head. “Yes, that is exactly what happened. She corrupted you, a human, with her essence, something no creature is made to handle, but especially not you. You are lucky to make out with some mere soreness, I can promise you that.” He smiles, but you can tell there’s no humour in him. For once, he is walking instead of skating, each step placed with purpose. “I think it would be better for you if you didn’t try to be kidnapped by her anymore, hm? If you enjoy near-death experiences that much, I can arrange one for you.”
You laugh awkwardly, because you are assuming it’s a joke. What else could it possibly be? “I… Yeah, I won’t go there anymore. Sorry for worrying you. I didn’t mean to, honestly.” That seals off your route to the last place you could go outside of the kingdom. He’s never let you wander far, and you can only guess he’ll be even more protective from now on.
For a few moments, he holds your gaze, and then he leans down to give you a kiss on your forehead. “I forgive you.” You feel a little less cold than before, despite his lips being far from warm. “Really though, that wasn’t your smartest decision. How are you feeling?”
“Like shit,” you tell him. He clicks his tongue, and you move to defend yourself. “Look, okay, my mouth feels really weird, and I have no idea why! I’ve never felt anything like it. My teeth keep sticking to each other.”
He goes quiet for a few seconds, playing with the edge of one of the blankets wrapped around you. “It must be a leftover symptom from your corruption. The phenomenon is not well-documented, especially not in humans.”
Even through all of the thick blankets wrapped around you, you are starting to shiver. Winter feels it, and hugs you closer to his chest.
“It’s a good thing I was going to show you those hot springs!” He chirps, tone suddenly shifting to his usual cadence. You are happy to chalk all of your strange feelings up to the corruption you’d suffered. Of course, the reason you woke up in his lab was because he was monitoring your health. “Both of us could use a little warming up, I would say.”
There are things you have left behind. Somewhere, out there in this vast, vast multiverse, there is a home waiting for you. Perhaps with family and friends searching for you, worrying themselves sick. But if that is the case, you remember none of it. You are happy here, in the Winter Kingdom, at the side of its king. If you are happy here, and you are, you don’t think anyone could blame you for wanting to stay, could they?
The world outside of here is so, so dangerous. He has warned you about it all an infinite number of times. You really do think you would like to stay here, for the rest of the life that stretches ahead of you.
“Winter…?” You say softly, your tone bordering on questioning. He hums in response, milky white eyes meeting your own. “Thank you. For everything.”
He hugs you close to his chest, and does a little spin on the tips of his toes. You laugh. By this point, you are used to his theatrics, and know that he won’t let you fall. Little hearts made from his ice powers drift in the air next to his head, before dissolving into powder snow.
“I love you too, snowflake.” His voice is a singsong whisper, and your heart melts.
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