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emmaloo21butwriting · 9 months

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Fallen for Hook’s Girl

Peter Pan x Reader; Yandere Character | Hook x ((adopted)) Daughter Reader

Season Spoiler; Has to do nothing with anything in the show except characters, and Wendy being in a cage

Warnings; Yandere, Lying, Acting, Rum(reader does not drink it), Hook being ‘fatherly’, Hook drunk, Pan crying, Wendy, you don’t love Peter yet

italics are flashbacks

Other; Long ((for me lol)) and written out of a dumb spark of imagination that became this abomination, second part?? Maybe if it gets famous or I really want to continue, it’s kind of fever Dream ish. I POSTED THIS ON THE WRONG BLOG, I JUST NOTICED, I posted it like a week ago too. Also, this terrifies me, I don’t know if I should post it. To see original post go to emmaloo21

Hook ended up back on Neverland, with a young girl. Pan was always intrigued by her.

“Y/n, you’re going to be a little spy, and get us Pan’s heart,” Hook said, he was drunk, everyone was, except her, “Rum?”

“I’m alright, drink some water,” she said, “I’ll be in bed.”

“Goodnight, love,” He grabbed her by the waist and kissed her head.

He thought of her as a daughter, he always had. Milah was the reason she ever was able to stay with him. So she was their daughter, to him.

“Wake up,” Hook said, Y/n opened her eyes.

“Hmm?”

“You’re going to find camp, alright? The lost boys, when you do, you find Pan and sob and cry like I kicked you off the ship. Capture his heart, and you come back to me,” he smiled, “With his heart, you’ll get everything you want. You’ll get to be a princess.”

“That’s it? Simple..” she sat up.

“I love you, sweetheart,” Hook hugged her.

“I love you, papa,” she laughed, “now, I gotta go.”

Hook knew she was a good actor, she tricked anyone, that was something he adored about her.

•

Y/n found the camp, no one there, but logs and an unlit bonfire.

“Hello,” Pan appeared, “You’re Hook’s girl, yes?”

Y/n turned to face him, “Not anymore,” she grumbled, trying to ‘not cry.’

“What?” Pan was confused, he had seen there bond, inseparable, he believed her.

“He.. he..” she whimpered, tears now falling.

“Hey, it’s okay, follow me,” he said, she did, grabbing his hand.

“Oh.”

“I can let go, I just-“

“No, it’s okay,” it was so obvious he liked her.

He was vulnerable, she was curious as to why.

Felix and Pan sat together, Pan trying not to cry and crumble in front of his second. He was sure Wendy loved him, and then she shattered his heart and he locked her away in the cage. He cried as he told Felix, who was there to comfort. And that was merely an hour ago. Pam trying to heal his heartbreak.

He healed it by falling in love with her, so fast. She did not understand but it happened.

“This is my cabin, come in,” he brought her inside, she sat on the couch, still crying.

He was not going to let her leave, that was for sure. The door shut by itself.

“Do you want cocoa?” He questioned, it was cold in Neverland, being it was early in the morning.

“Please,” she whined, he brought her a mug, she took it with shaky hands.

“Let me get you a blanket, love,” Pan kissed her head, she smiled slightly, still crying.

He came back, wrapping it around her, holding her.

“Why’d Hook leave you?” He asked, she leaned into him.

“He..” she started sobbing again.

“It’s okay, it’s okay..” Pan said, “Don’t cry, please, it hurts me.”

He wiped her tears with his thumbs, she sighed.

#Peter pan #felix #lost boys #neverland #ouat #once upon a time #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #once upon a time x reader #ouat x reader #Peter Pan x reader #felix x reader #lost boys x reader #neverland x reader #Yandere #yandere x reader #yandere Peter pan

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pherelesytsia · 2 years

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I may forgive him,

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Pregnant/Reader

Summary: Finding out Thomas has been secretly seeing Grace, Y/N leaves with Charlie.

Warning: Pregnancy, fear, anxiety, Angst, Fluff,

Word Count: 2.7k

a/n:. Requests are open.

Part One Part Two Part Four

Eyes of vigour and the chant of thunder broke the darkness. Hatred swirled, sinister and vicious. The boy folded his hands in front of his chest. The world was motionless. Eyes, otherwise glowing like stars, were as dark as the night reigning beyond the windows. Tears adorned the cheeks, painted in pain, and streamed down the face in torrents.

The youthful glow had died. There was a coldness in his gaze and Thomas rooted into the ground, stood motionless in the middle of the endless corridor, a tunnel whose end was slightly luminous. Gulping, he thought he dreamed. Thomas could not believe his eyes, thought whiskey and rum fooled his senses. A wave of poisoned arrows, dark feathered, pierced through his skin. Hatred and agony clouded his mind. Eyes so similar to his were seething with rage and not even the faint voice, broken like a shield of wood, echoing faintly through the house, could banish dooming clouds announcing a storm.

"Charlie?" Thomas whispered.

Thomas slowed to a halt, trying to read his son, and realised if Charlie held a gun, he would use it against him without batting an eye, forcing him to his knees and making it impossible to take a step. Wide-legged Charlie stood in the doorway. Thomas took slower and shorter steps and thought he could see the blood pumping through the little boy's body. A faint sparkle of pride filled his pained heart. Thomas had often heard from his brothers how his eyes sparkled, how unreadable the Shelby was if he faced the enemy and Thomas saw exactly what his brothers were always talking about in his gaze.

"Charlie?" Thomas repeated, snapping the boy out of his thoughts.

Charlie clenched his hands into fists and stood wide-legged, nearly lost balance, trying to take up the whole doorway to forbid his father to get into the bedroom.

"Go away father, you hurt mum and she is in pain because of you. All because of you, I heard it, Ada and Arthur were talking about it and now mum is going to die because of you." yelled the boy, angered.

Thomas swallowed. His heart ached. He knew pain; it was once his daily companion, a loyal hound, and he remembered the days when he was alone in the shadows shaping into wicked evil faced creatures.

“Go away. You are not my dad anymore. I don’t love you anymore. Go away.” Charlie screamed.

The wave of trillion of arrows pierced the howling wind. Gradually, Thomas walked towards the end of the endless tunnel. He fell like a warrior. Angered, Charlie starred at his father, let him feel the hatred dwelling in the depths of his heart, not regretting his choice of words, would never regret them, hating the man who had dared to find another family.

A voice shattered into tiny splinters broke through the gloomy mist, tearing the dark curtain like a sword, but no answer came.

Colours faded and winter ruled heartless and merciless. His heart ached and Thomas swallowed noticeably. Slowly he arose and went forward, ignoring the words laced with the darkest of poison, an ancient chant killing witches.

"Charlie, what are you talking about? I would never hurt your mum. I love you and mummy." Thomas breathed.

His voice broke. He never showed weakness in front of his son, tried to stay strong, but the façade crumbled like an attacked walls of defence in the midst of war, and a lone tear slid down his cheek.

“You don’t love my sister. You hurt her. I love her. Yes, she is a girl and she will want to play with dumb dolls, yet I love her and I promised mummy I will stay home from kindergarten. I will take care of her. I won´t need your help. You will hurt mummy so go away. We will have a sleepover without you. You are not invited.” Charlie sobbed.

Wider he stood, knowing it must be his father's fault why his mother was in pain and Thomas saw himself, recognised the hateful expression in his gaze and looked down at his son in confusion.

“Charlie,” he said.

"Yes, you did. You are lying. You met another woman. You can´t do that. I'm not looking for another mum either. I already have one and I know I wouldn't find a better one. You have mum and me and my little sister.” Charlie cried out loud and silenced his father harshly.

Thomas gulped.

“You are married to my mum and you have me. Ada said it too. You don't love mum and there was a doctor, and I wanted to cook tea. I listened, I heard it all. And my mum said you can't lie that lying is bad and you are lying.” Charlie continued without reflecting on his words.

He pressed his lips to a fine line and looked his father without fear.

“You can't go to my mummy. You'll hurt her, and I don't want to see her in pain. She was crying. Mummy never cried because of me." Charlie whispered in pain.

Shaking his head, he brushed the tears away from his cheek.

“I heard everything. I am a big boy. I know where babies come from. And I heard everything. You will not hurt my sister. I have to protect her. Go away, you are not going to mummy.” he continued without fear.

The words echoed loudly through the house and a chant of murmur arose from deep slumber. Tears clouded his eyes.

"Charlie, believe me, I would never hurt your mum. And if I promise I won't hurt her, will you allow me to see her? I have to talk to her. Please. Thank you for taking care of mummy, I'm sure you took good care of her, but I have to see her." said Thomas.

His voice was breaking, shattered into tiny splinters. Remorse welled up in his heart. Carefully, Charlie scrutinised his father and pressed his lips to a fine line.

"I don't know. You will hurt my sister and I have to protect her." Charlie said with uncertainty in his voice.

Lovely words destroyed the last wall. Eye grew in horror and words escaped. Forcing a smile Y/N clawed her fingers into the frame of the door, unable to stand on her feet, could no longer listen to the words of mind dulling anger. A soft gasp escaped Y/N, searching for support and pairs of eyes shot open and before Charlie realised what had happened Y/N was in the arms of the man he had tried to banish from the house with harsh words.

His heart was in broken pieces. Her eyes were lifeless, yet they twinkled like fading stars on the horizon. Her shaking fingers slid over the unmade hair of Charlie, crying softly, having heard the words about his father he could no longer forget and clung to the long nightgown.

Nauseated, Y/N couldn’t stay strong and dropped into his arms, resting her aching head on his chest and closed her eyes for a moment, and a faint smile graced her lips as no feminine scent lingered on his clothes. A soft wheeze escaped her and immediately he embraced her body. Thomas tried to stay strong but the last wall of defence grumbled as he witnessed the exhaustion veiling his wife's eyes for more than ten years. He gazed from his wife to his son, clawing his fingers into the long nightgown, and soft soothing words escaped him in hope to heal the wounds he had caused.

"Charlie, could you make mum some tea, please? I'm sure it will do her good. I'll take care of her. You don’t need to fear and if you need any help, then Arthur or Ada will be happy to help." Thomas said.

“No. I not leaving mum and my sister.” Charlie interrupted his father rudely. “You can be glad I allowed you to hug mum.” he continued in a sharp tone, sounded bolder than a man of many glasses.

A faint whisper arose and again the hatred and anger faded away.

“I don´t know if I can trust you.” Charlie breathed.

Thoughtfully, the boy looked at his mother and waited for an answer, wanting to know if he was allowed to go or if he should stay and Charlie was ready to stand between his father and mother, would protect her even if harsh words were spoken.

"Please go, Charlie. The tea you made was the best I have ever tasted in my life. Nothing can happen to me. Your father would never hurt me." Y/N breathed weakly.

“He has hurt you, mum.”, “Yet I love him, Charlie. I know your father for a long time. Arthur called your father, and he came to help me. He feared for my health.” Y/N whispered.

Weakly, Y/N smiled, feeling his fingers slowly letting go of the long material of the flowing dress.

“Promise me, dad you will not make mummy cry. You have to swear,” he said in a stern tone, commanding like a king.

The features softened and the dooming clouds announcing a night full of terror were carried away.

“I promise Charlie. I will help mummy; you don’t have to fear.” Thomas assured softly.

“I trust you and you have to say sorry to my little sister, you made her cry too.”, “I will, Charlie. I will.” Thomas answered, barely audible.

Slowly, Charlie walked away, turning over and over as he did so. Footsteps echoed loudly through the house. Charlie wiped the tears from his cheeks and fixed his eyes over his shoulders as he rushed in great haste along the long corridor.

No sound crossed her lips. Her arms wrapped around his neck. Her feet swung, no longer touching the cold floor. As if she weighed nothing, Thomas carried his wife back into the bedroom they shared, straight towards the unmade bed, and Thomas realised Y/N had slept on his side of the bed. Loving words lessening the pain escaped the man in the dark suit, moved closer to the bed and Thomas lowered her slowly as if he feared his wife would shatter like glass if he wasn't careful enough. The soft gasp escaping Y/N caused his heart to ache in pain. Smiling faintly, he covered her with the blanket but did not dare sit down on the edge of the bed nor to lie down by her side. He clenched his fingers into fists, saw what he had caused as his eyes fell upon the empty suitcase.

Y/N placed her hands on her stomach in a protective gesture. Widened eyes gazed at the pregnant woman and she let him know she was fine.

"I would never dare to betray you.", "You didn't wear your ring." Y/N breathed.

She wanted to believe him, tried to, but her mind told her a different story.

"I lost it. You know I never take it off, never in the past ten years, nearly eleven." Thomas explained.

He bit his lower lip, not wanting to continue. He wondered why she was still in the house they called home and he swallowed, realising he was certainly not the reason she had stayed.

"I will not force you to stay, Thomas. I can leave, you only have to tell me. If you want to leave and start a new life with Grace, then I won't stand in your way but I want you to know that even if you don't want a divorce to ruin your image, I will take the children with me." Y/N said, unable to face her husband.

His lips no longer touched and his striking features paled and aged.

"I didn't cheat on you Y/N. I saw Grace twice.", "You supposedly hugged her and you went to a restaurant." Y/N continued.

"Yes.", "So you admit you saw her, your old flame." Y/N breathed.

"I did, this woman contacted me for almost three months. She called me every hour, twenty times a day. I ignored her, and she contacted a friend, a businessman. I thought it was going to be a meeting. My love, please believe me. I told you about the meeting. You were sick, and I wanted you to come with me, but you couldn’t and Arthur was out of town. When I arrived at the bar, I saw her and before I could do anything she hugged me as if we were old friends," Thomas reported.

Wordlessly, Y/N listened, letting him speak even if the desire welled up to silence him harshly. His right hand twitched, but he did not reach for her hand resting on the barely noticeable bulge.

"Please believe me. I don't know what you've heard, but I am convinced it was something unpleasant. She knew I would be in London today, how she found out, I don’t know but I confronted her and told her to leave me alone and she informed me she had called you too, that she spoke to you about us, but why should I exchange you for someone like her? I have only seen her twice." Thomas reported.

The words weren’t twisted, and relief spread through her heart. She could read the man like an open book, fear rooted in her heart, but then she saw the tears, the pain and knew her husband wasn't lying, telling her a twisted tale.

“And you saw her today?”, “Yes, I told her I don’t love her, that I have a family, a wife I have been married to for almost eleven years," Thomas said.

Agony veiled his striking features.

"I didn't look at her the way I look at you. The day I fell in love with you I forgot about her. I know she must have told you a lot of things and that you read all those letters, but you are the only woman I have slept with, the only woman I carry in my heart." Thomas confessed boldly.

Y/N lost herself in his eyes of blue, unable to tear her glance away from him.

"You, Charlie, all of you are my family, something Grace can never give me." Thomas continued.

Hearts called out. Slowly Thomas slid closer to his wife, found strength and clasped carefully her hand, squeezed it gently.

"Why would I leave my family for a woman like her? She left me when I needed someone and you were there. You were by my side. I have everything I need. I have you and our beautiful children." he breathed.

The words healed her heart and tears veiled her vision.

"I think it's going to be a girl. I hope you don't mind.” she whispered weakly.

His eyes sparkled and he knew she trusted his words.

"Next week I'd like to go into town to buy a pram," Y/N said.

Colour returned and a slight smile spread on his lips kneeling beside the bed and Y/N saw it immediately, knew he had understood the message. Y/N guided his palm nearer to her and placed his hand on her stomach. A tear danced across his features. Thomas felt nothing, no movement, but proudness flowed in every fibre of his body.

"You'll stay?", "I trust you, Tommy." Y/N answered.

His eyes sparkled in screaming colours.

"May I kiss you?", "You are my husband, Tommy and the father of our children, the man I trust the most. You don't need to ask for permission." Y/N said with a faint smile.

Slowly, Thomas rose from the cold ground. The bed sagged beneath his weight. The pain ceased. The lovers were lost, and the stars were shining. Slowly, Thomas settled at his wife's side on the bed, wrapping his arm around her body and she lowered her head on his chest. Lips sealed the promise, and the storm passed and the moon glowed in all its beauty.

TagList

blyanyan fckmini alessandra9792 1-800-coffee millies0bsimp marvelwhoreunfortunately alessandra9792 smailaway summertimedepression alldaysdreamers elliaze mystic-gnome kathrinemelissa tedpicklez daynaelizabethclairereynolds mrkdvidal1989 mycabin13-blog pheitvsx thenattitude faatxma mysticalbouquetwolf-posts mimischaos plutosllama

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azierumart · 6 months

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some fanart of the fic the man downstairs by @rum-and-shattered-dreams!! i love this au and fic sm its one of my all time favs, and this scene is one of my favourite parts (:

#gravity falls #gravity falls art #my art #ford pines #stanford pines #the man downstairs #the man downstairs au #the man downstairs art #art

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pacificaisstillpacifica · 4 months

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OC Interview

I was tagged by @ouroboros-hideout to do this interview for the Notorious BGB. Due to her secretive nature and general paranoia, she's not inclined to answer certain questions, so there will be some commentary.

Name?

"Who's askin' and why?"

*Legally named Baby Girl Benítez, BGB has guarded this embarrassing secret by using over 20 different aliases via forged documents. Only 3 people in the NC area know her real name.

Nickname?

"Again, depends on who's askin'. I go by 'V' in Night City. ...Why? Pfff, I'unno. Sounded cool, I guess."

*It's taken from one of her earliest aliases, Verónica.

Gender?

"None of your biz."

*Female; She/They

Star Sign?

"Scorpio."

Height?

"Again, why are you askin'? You FIA or somethin'?"

*She is 5'5.

Orientation?

"I know what I like when I see it and that ain't nobody's biz but mine."

*A true bisexual disaster.

Nationality/Ethnicity?

"See, now I KNOW you're FIA. Well, you can go and tell Rosalind that we are done, that it was nice getting to play James Bond but ain't no way in hell I'm joining her gonk lil'—... Oh, you're just trying to get to know me? *sigh* Fuck, choom... Sorry, I've had a weird coupl'a years. I'm workin' on it. Can we start over?"

*A stateless nomad via the Blood Nation's Gargoyles pack; Afro-Latina of Puerto Rican and Haitian descent.

Fave Fruit?

"Haven't had real fruit in forever. Closest I've had in years have been those Leeloo Beans. But, I'm gonna say mango. Yeah. Reminds me of my old family."

Fave Season?

"That's a hard one. Kinda like and hate somethin' about each of 'em."

Fave Flower?

"Plants aren't really my area of expertise, but there's something about wildflowers I really like. Remember growin' up, the fam was on this maglev construction gig down I-40. Late summer, just barely early fall. And there's nothin' but this vast stretch of highway for miles and miles, and ghost towns that got wiped by the wasting epidemic. But there were these little red and yellow flowers, just dotting the sun-scorched grass. Never knew what kind they were, but through all thst decay and destruction I remember thinkin' they were the prettiest flowers I'd ever seen."

Fave Scent?

"Coffee in the morning. Grapefruit rinds. A nice cologne. I love that shit. Just a splash though. I had... let's say, an 'ex' who I swear would marinate in it. That's not why they're an ex, but... yeah, didn't really help their case."

Coffee, Tea, or Hot Chocolate?

"Depends on what time of day it is and what I'm doing. Coffee in the morning without a doubt. With the sock method, café cola'o like my abuela used to do it, of course. If it's the afternoon, I like a nice cup of Oolong. And for cold nights, hot chocolate. Spiked with spiced rum."

Average Hours of Sleep?

*The "sock method refers to a cloth mesh filter attached to a round wire frame with a handle. It's reusable but winds up looking like a dirty sock, hence the nickname "la media" (P.R. Spanish for "the sock/stocking") No actual socks are involved.

"Again with the weird questions. What are ya, my ripperdoc? ...You sure you're not FIA?"

*Averages about 6 hours of sleep.

Dog or Cat Person?

"Don't really have a preference. They're both great. Cats are great to chill on the couch with and dogs are fun to take on roadtrips. But I guess if you get an RV, you can do both."

Dream Trip?

"I'unno. Spent so much of my life traveling and moving that taking a trip doesn't seem as exciting to me. The Crystal Palace seems interesting, but is it enough to make me get on a tin can of a shuttle?"

Number of Blankets?

"If it's hot, then just a flat sheet with no blanket. If it's cold enough, then two. A knit one and a fleece one."

Random Fact?

"I fell off the scoop bucket of an excavator when I was 9. It was afterhours on the site and I got bored. Anyway, wound up shattering my left arm. Still kinda aches when it rains."

#oc ask game #baby girl benítez #thanks for tagging me!!!!

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sparkly-pansexsha · 3 months

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FOUND YOU | JUNG HOSEOK [BTS]

A/N : brain isn't computing a summary... :p

WARNING: 18+ smut, (crusty dusty) fast paced story, will encounter a bipolar/pirate!hoseok 😘

You wake up on such soft sheets, the covers are fluffy and its so much warmer and pleasant than nearly dying in the middle of sea. Your memory isn't too shitty so you remember being saved by a few rough looking guys. Judging from their ripped clothes, scars, and manly stenches of rum and sweat.

The machine set you into an era of pirates.

You rubbed your face and yawned aloud, back arching as you stretched and then relaxed back into the king sized bed.

Wait.

King-sized.

"So you're real, I'm not dreaming." Your head snaps up from the familiar deep voice and finds a pair of harsh deep brown eyes. Your lips part and you take him in as your body begins to naturally rise up and crawl off the bed.

You both are succumbing to very different emotions and feelings. Your deeply rooted hopelessness has shattered like glass and bloomed into sappy belief, into love that has shed an array of times. You fiddle with your hands and take the pirate in.

His almond eyes, long sculpted face, the pointed nose that you knew mended out when he smiled, his heart shaped lips.

Your favorite, heart shaped lips.

"Hoseok." Even if it wasn't the one you were looking for, he was still a version of him.

"Where the fuck were you all these years." You blink and try to register his sudden hostility but then again, every version of you had a different story. The best thing you can do is explain yourself with what you've experienced.

"I've been searching for you.." you mumble and he leans off the doorway, arms uncrossing as he nearly stabs his fists in your pockets. You lean back a bit when you're eye to eye.

"I thought you died." He gritted and for a second you thought he was angry that you hadn't kicked the bucket but his eyes began getting glossy and you desperately just wanted to hug him.

"You should sit. I have a lot to tell you." Your eyes traveled down his face before twisting on your heel with exhaust as you've done many times before. Hoseok isn't so willing to hear you much and pulls you back to him.

"I promise what I have to say is very necessary. Please listen." He contemplates and then let's your arm go as you walk to the bed. Hoseok sits next to you and take his hat off slowly.

"I'm not the y/n you know." Hoseok clenched his jaw and turns his head to you, eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm a time traveler, and in my universe.. my hoseok tampered with our time machine and got lost in time. I've been searching for him for God knows how long and you may think I'm the woman you used to love. You know.. your y/n, but I'm not. Shes dead. And I'm supposed to exist elsewhere but not here. Not with you." He glares at you and you can tell by the way his jaw is moving that he's grinding his teeth together.

"I'm done.." you conclude and he takes his eyes off of you to scratch his chin.

"You were always an expert liar but I never thought you'd wip a story out on me." You sighed, shoulders slumping in deep dissapointment.

"But I'm-"

"Even, if you are telling the truth. And my y/n did die for good.. you think I'd let you go when I just got you back."

"You have to." You nod.

"I don't." He argues, turning to face you completely as he stops scratching. Doing that thing where he stares at you really really deeply and you could've shuddered from it. You stare back sympathetically and hug your middle.

"What." He questions, still boring his gaze.

"Do you not love me anymore. Is that it?" hoseok mumbles and there is a heap of defense on your toungue but it doesn't fall quick enough when he continues to look at you so intensely.

"So you don't."

"No I do!" You touch his arm and he relaxes under it, gaze softening at your hand holding him. Touching him as he's been desperate for even your grazings.

"I wouldn't... care if you didn't. I'd make you love me then." A pattern you quickly caught was his hunger to control things and that made you frown.

"I love all of you hoseok, all of your versions." You tilted your chin downward at the last word and a part of his face spasmed.

"Am I a version to you." His voice drops but its hauntingly gentle.

"No, no not completely." He looks at you for a moment, less intensely and more contemplating.

"...I want you to be sure of what you're saying." Hoseok places his hands on the bed and slims your proximity. His lips just a centimeter away from you. You take note of the scar across the upper bridge of his nose and his silky blonde edges, finding pretty flaws in his tan skin.

"Want you to believe I'm more than that. Must I show you."

"You can." You thought he'd crash into your mouth with little patience but the captain was the complete opposite. He held the back of your head and arm.

Pulling you by both parts of your body and pressing his warm lips between yours. You furrowed your brows from such gentleness and held the fabric of his tailored suit tightly.

The contrast his past behavior and affectionate actions made your eyes sting beneath your lids. He separated only a short distance to tilt his head and kiss you differently. Each retracting 'smack' of a sound making you melt.

One of your hands rode up his arm and carresed the back of his hair. When Hoseok had seemingly finished kissing you judging from the fact that you needed to breathe earlier than him he couldn't take his eyes off of you.

"Do I still have it?" He refers to his kissing ability and you nod, licking your lips.

"Still got it." You smile and mirrors one back with confidence. It's beautiful.

"If you really have to..." he swallowed, hands sliding down to hold yours. He was still having trouble believing you but a part of him wanted to accomplish something before you left.

"Can I make love to you." You look his face over and nod of understanding. Hoseok starts undressing and you two naturally assist and follow eachother until you both are on your sides and in a world of pleasure. Hoseok lays his head above you pillow soft kinks and holds your waist to him.

"I missed you so much honey. Everything about you.." he strained lowly as he kept fucking into your tight entrance.

"I missed you too baby" you stated sweetly with a moan in between, hoseok could feel himself getting close yet he chose to go slow and do deep strokes. Two slim fingers played with your clit.

"Ahn- f-fuckk~" hoseok pressed hot and wet kisses into your neck, licking up to your fallen jaw and sucking under the curve of it. You touched your breasts and threw your head back against him.

"You know what I want, give it to me.." he trailed off with a groan and pressed harder into your bundle of nerves as you clenched around him. Hoseok's mouth formed into an 'o' as he shut his eyes and told you to relax.

"You feel so nice.. so good." the second squeeze made him nearly cum but when you finally quaked in his embrace and cried out hoseok was relieved.

"I'm gonna cum into this pretty pussy since you want it so bad, you ready?"

"Mhm- mhmm~" you rested your fingers against the side of his neck from behind, feeling the blazing heat beat the surface of your fingertips.

"Okay, s'all for you." Your eyes rolled back beneath your lids as his warmth spilled into you. Ounces of milky fluid making you feel welcome. His scratchy.. raspy.. moans were treasures to your ears and he buried them deep in your canal.

"Shit." He huffed and relaxed, you rubbed any skin of his you managed to touch and smiled lazily.

"Thank you honey, I love you. So much" You admired the sweet name and turned your head back far enough to kiss his cheek.

"You're welcome baby, I love you too." You stroked his arm as he rested his head on your shoulder pulled out carefully, just when your thigh was let down he reached a hand between your legs and cupped your leaking pussy like a pair of panties.

You quickly accept his dirty yet sexy gesture.

"Can you talk to me? Tell me everything that happened to you." He requested and you kiss the closest part of his body before sighing. He tucks your head under his chin and listens.

"I had encountered many different hoseok's, alien, president, garbage man, bachelor.." he chuckle.

"Garbage man huh, so I slung around trash for money."

"You did but he was- you were.. sweet. So sweet."

"Hmm. tell me about the alien?" He rasped and you wet your lips in thought. Three hours went by and when you realized Hoseok hadn't said any more commentary you figured he was asleep.

"Hoseok?"

"...hm." you were shocked at his persistence to stay awake.

"You're still up baby?"

"Partially. I don't- want to fall asleep." He emphasized that by holding you closer to his body and you could feel the both of you start to sweat again due to the rising heat.

"I have to go soon." It's silent. Deadly silent.

Until.

"Okay." He whispers and it truly breaks your heart, he sits up and leans over, eyes nearly closed and you know what he's going to do so you pull him down and kiss him for the last time.

30 seconds,

to 15 seconds,

then 10 seconds,

5 seconds,

You dissapear.

Jungle noises.

Sniffing sounds. You're getting sniffed.

You crack your eyes open and scream at the sight of a chimpanzee and they screech, ultimately alerting many other chimpanzees of a possible threat but that is until a voice is heard behind you.

"GET UP!" you snap your head around and see hoseok, skin and clothes covered in dirt as he wears cracked prescription glasses.

"Hoseok!!???" You question as he pulls you to run.

"Yes!!" He clarified with a yell but didn't look back nd when you both approached a hit you ran in and hoseok pulled and tugged on a plethora of things to create a protective barrier.

"Hoseok is it you?" You shakily ask and he turns around finally, nearing you with unsureness and now your afraid you've got the wrong person. Honestly this was going to be your last resort because you were loosing so much will lately.

"You're not...?" -mad at me are you? He thought.

And hesitated which caused you to finally break down, eyes watering as you sat on the floor and clutched your hair.

"Please, please, please, please god.... please. Please." You whispered and felt a pair of hands hold your wrists, you immediately let go of your hair and looked at hoseok as he leaned closer and pulled you into his chest.

You slowly hugged him back.

"H-hoseok?"

"Yes. That's my name."

"But are you my....." You choked out as he fought tears of his own and nodded.

"I should be, I am." You squeezed him like you were dying and needed his embrace. He felt horrible when he heard your sobs and stroked your head.

"I've been... loo-king f-for you for.. so long?"

"I know, and I'm so sorry I put you through that. I shouldn't have tampered with the machine alone."

"Damn right." You pulled back abruptly and wiped your nose and eyes. Hoseok looked incredibly sympathetic and fixed the perching of his glasses as he gently grabbed your hands.

"Forgive me please?" He looked between your eyes and you frowned.

"Of fuckin' course I forgive you." Hoseok felt like smiling and did, you took your eyes off his lips and and looked at him stubbornly yet leaned in to kiss him anyway.

As always you felt the slightest graze of his long teeth and chuckled before separating.

"Now. How are we gonna get out of here." He turned around and looked like a deer in headlights until he felt his pockets and took out a paper.

"I figured out the solution." You glanced up at him and smirked.

"That's my hoseok.".

#bts #hoseok x fem #hoseok #hoseok x black fem #hoseok fic #jh fic #hoseok fanfic #jung hoseok #black fem #ambw #ambw kpop #ambw smut #ambw scenarios #bts ambw #bts x black fem

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bucket-barnes · 4 months

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Frostbite

This came from my “Isle Christmas traditions” writing prompt, I had several different little details in there and this is one I wanted to flesh out. It’s lost revenge/ Harry centric and based in the year long gap between D2 and D3 when Uma wasn’t on the Isle

CW: alcohol and vague descriptions of frostbite

The isle was always cold in the winter, below freezing temperatures and heavy snow were common, especially by the docks. The pirates would often sing and drink to distract themselves from the icicles forming in their hair and the chill in their bones

During Uma’s…absence the past few months, Harry had become the de facto captain of the Lost Revenge, keeping the crew in line, fixing the ship (Uma would love coming back to the ship in perfect condition!) sure, he missed her…a lot, but having the role of Captain was a dream come true for Harry, finally he was “Captain Hook” (though by last name rather than a tragic accident involving his hands)

It was a cold winter morning, Harry had gone onto the ship early to make sure no rats had gnawed on the ropes or chewed through the wood. The winter breeze was cutting through his leather coat, stinging his skin, Harry didn’t mind, he had work to do. Harry continued inspecting the wood and the ropes, all were clear and he moved on to directing the rest of Um- his crew…Uma’s not here

The morning went on and the breeze became stronger, the cold started making Harry’s fingers sting, but he could just hold onto his hook, he’ll be fine, a little cold never hurt anyone… his fingers felt kinda numb but…it’s probably fine

Gil went with Harry to make the daily rounds for extortion, he couldn’t help but notice Harry was pulling at his hands a lot and that they were looking a little red, whenever he asked if he was alright Harry would just brush him off and say he was fine and if he pushed any further Harry would knock him upside the head. As they went through their rounds, Gil kept looking at Harry’s hands, sure Gil isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed but he knew hands weren’t supposed to look like that, it seemed even some of their “clients” knew that too, their eyes shifting between Harry’s hook and his free hand… red, turning purple

The day went on and, despite Gil’s slight worrying, Harry continued his work, though by now his fingers were fully numb and turning blue. Other crew members started to notice the state of their captain’s hands

“Uh…Cap’n?”

Jonas trailed off when he saw the small blisters forming on Harry’s hands, Harry didn’t answer

“Cap’n?”

Jonas tried again, still no answer

“Harry!”

Jonas yelled, which seemed to catch Harry’s attention

“Your hands…”

Jonas nodded to his captain’s hands, cold and stiff from pain, his fingertips a light blue

“They’re fine. Get back to work”

Harry glared at Jonas and then went below deck…coming back with a bottle of rum that he quickly took a large swig from.

The day continued and the sun went down, as did Harry’s general awareness. The pain in his hands had become so much that he took to the pirate’s tradition of drinking until you can’t feel, some of the crew had joined him, if for no other reason than to keep an eye on him. As the pirates drank, some started singing, Gil being one of them. The singing was by no means on key or in any sort of tune, but rum makes anything sound good. As he sang, Gil’s gaze once again turned to Harry’s hands. Blue, blistered, freezing cold

“Harry?”

Gill wearily asked as his singing died off, Harry looked over at his friend, his eyes glazed over with a drunken haze. Gil, not wanting to anger his friend and captain, nodded down to his hands

“The…their fine”

Harry insisted, his words slurring and shaking from the cold

“No…their not”

Gil shook his head, Harry glared at him and took another swig of rum, his face flinched from the pain of gripping the bottle, the bottle slipped from his hand and dropped onto the floor, shattering on impact. The rest of the crew turned their heads to look at the pool of alcohol forming on the deck

“Captain?”

Bonny spoke up cautiously

“Don’t call me that, Uma is our captain, only she gets that title”

Harry raised his voice, it was slurred and angry

“Well Uma isn’t here! Therefore, you are our Cap’n!”

Jonas retorted, matching Harry’s tone, equally drunk. Gil, the only slightly sober one in the moment, quickly tried to diffuse the argument

“Harry, we’re just worried about you”

He tried to explain, but Harry wasn’t in a mood to listen

“Uma is still your Captain and she will be addressed as your Captain!”

Harry drunkenly yelled, he tried to take a step toward Jonas, but he slipped on the puddle of rum, falling backward, his head hitting the floor of the ship’s deck…and he was out like a light

…

I couldn’t think of a decent ending so let’s make this fun- reblog this and write your own ending! I promise you I will look at all of them because I like validation!

#disney descendants #disney #harry hook #descendants 3 #gil descendants #ben descendants #carlos descendants #jay descendants #evie descendants #mal descendants #descendants 2 #descendants #uma daughter of ursula #descendants fandom #descendants fanfiction

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planetkiimchi · 6 months

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10:35 | d.sc

featuring: dong sicheng x fem!reader (he calls her a princess)

word count: 690

author's note: my writer's block has been so bad this week, and i couldn't think of anything to write for the doyoung fic, so have this first. i want to say also that to the stars and back (webtoon) and hidden love (cdrama) are such amazing pieces. i'm in love.

Your eyes follow the curve of his neck and the gentle slope of his back as he leans over the balcony, head resting on his right forearm. His eyelids flutter, and you know he’s sneaking glances at you. You turn your head, pretending not to notice the way the wind gusts through his hair, his button-down shirt rippling like a flag in the wind.

You place both palms on the railing, cold metal pressed against your skin as you shut your eyes tightly and smile, aware of nothing but the scent of fabric softener and the softness of his pinky as he glides his finger across the back of your palm.

“Sicheng.”

He rolls over, facing the sky as he shifts his weight onto his elbows, the two of you standing like parallel lines facing two different directions. Your view is of the city night scene, cars and streetlights decorating the roads. The sounds of engines whirring mixes with the whistling sound of the breeze, and your ears are mildly red.

Winwin sees the sky. Stars and constellations fill his vision, the North Star burning bright. Like tunnel vision, the only thing he hears is the sound of your breathing, and the steady thump of his heartbeat.

His pinky continues to trace circles on your skin even when you interlock your fingers with his, the friction between his skin and yours keeping you warm despite the low temperatures.

“They say that in this city, dreams are expensive.” Winwin laughs hollowly, like his heart’s shattered and his lungs are full of water, and he’s drowning in a place that’s so far detached from reality.

“I think… they’re right.” He brings your hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it, dry lips brushing over your skin and you’re instantly reminded of the countless times he’s greeted you that way.

—

“Princess.” Winwin bows with his right hand in front and his left hand behind his back, and when he stands up straight again, you remember just how much taller he is than you. He reaches for your hand and you give it to him without hesitation for him to kiss.

—

“Princess!” His hand loops around your wrist like a ring, trapping your fist within his grasp. The smile that spreads across your face is stupidly wide, eyes narrowing into a line and crooked teeth showing as he brings your hand to his lips.

—

“Princess?” Winwin reaches over your head to pull the book off the shelf, handing it to you. You lower yourself, no longer tiptoeing, and gratefully take the book from him. You fidget with his collar and his eyes darken, roughly taking your hand and kissing the back of your palm.

—

“My prince,” you murmur, putting a little distance between yourself and the railing so you can draw Winwin in closer. You nuzzle into his chest, and he cards his hands through your hair. You drape your arms around his neck and he holds you there for a while, content to just be next to each other in this uncertain world where nothing stays for long.

Winwin tilts his head and angles it towards you, noses tilted towards each other, and it feels like every bone of yours fits right with him. He waits patiently, forehead pressed against yours, until you tip your chin upwards and capture his mouth in a kiss. He tastes like mint chocolate and rum, and you know the latter is because he stole your ice cream cone earlier.

“Don’t leave me,” he whispers, breath hitching in his throat. You gently caress the back of his neck, squeezing him tightly in a hug.

“I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

A comet streaks by at the same time that both of you glance up, your neck outstretched, and he takes the chance to pepper kisses along your jawline. “Make a wish,” he mumbles.

So you do, eyes determinedly fixed on the flash of light speeding across the sky, fingers interlaced with his, knuckles white as you tighten your grip and mouth a wish.

I wish we could stay happy until the end of time.

#winwin #k-labels #🪁 — my works #kpop fics #wayv #nct #dong sicheng #timestamp

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forduary · 1 year

Text

It’s that time of year again!

Please either reply to this post or send us an ask with your suggestions for Forduary themes.

Offer ends 1/16/2023 at 11:59pm eastern time.

No purchase necessary. Void where prohibited. Offer not valid on Lottocron 9. This blog is not responsible for any transportation into the multiverse, tears in the fabric of reality, or possession by nacho-shaped dream demons leading to a downward spiral into desperation to prevent the end of the world.

Sketch by @fexalted line art and color by @rum-and-shattered-dreams

#stanford pines #forduary2023 #suggestions wanted #ford pines #grunkle ford #gravity falls #Forduary

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watermelontangmo · 2 years

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Wouldn't it be interesting if Dream agree to let Corinthian eat his eyes but with one condition; "I will give you my eyes, if you can handle this, little nightmare" then he gives him a drop of blood. Which send Corinthian to full body shatter, his leg give out. Dream have to catch him and hold naive little nightmare that cling to him like his life depends on it, crying and sobbing. Corinthian could feel everything , the air shifting, every human thought hit him all at once, the Dreaming and it's citizens. He feels how Dream feel for everything, and how he feels for him. Emotion rum deep with passion, filled with possessive thought, disappointment bitter on his tongue but soothing with desire to change for the better, fixing what broken between them, together.

#corintheus #it's clearly not my obsession with Corinthian being a cry baby #nope not at all #i mean look at him #how can you not #Naive little nightmare think they can handle anything #Dream quickly prove him wrong but gently #with opening arm ofc

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wishingstarinajar · 1 year

Note

Hi Wish! How are you doing today?

So, question. Do you usually come up with a design before the name, or do you think of a name after you designed a character? Or it just depends on each case?

Heya, I'm doing alright, hope you're doing alright too!

Usually, it starts with a random thought like "I want to create a bara skeleton" or "I wouldn't mind (another) Swapfell variant" and my creativity takes it from there. Sometimes I think of things very quickly, other times it takes several takes for it all to click.

But whether the name or the design comes first varies. Most of the time, it's bits and pieces of the visual design that are thought up first while the rest of the character (name, AU setting, personality, interests) comes while I puzzle those bits and pieces of the character's appearance together, be it through doodling or thought process.

Like with Monarch, his name didn't come until I was in the middle of designing him. I had the desire to create my own version of Shattered!Dream but no solid ideas. The whole butterfly theme didn't even cross my mind beforehand until I fiddled with his "sleeve cloak" during the design phase and suddenly wanted to try and fashion them after butterfly wings. It was then Monarch came to mind as a name and why he has an affinity towards butterflies.

I didn't think of Slate's name until after I finished designing him. He just went by "Mister Coconut" throughout the whole process because I simply wanted a new bara skeleton, preferably with an ecto body that smells like coconut. I was inspired by coconut-scented toilet paper (cuz it smelled so nice!) and yep, it's as weird as it sounds xD

Rum's name came super fast to me because I wanted an alcoholic beverage name (inspired by Wine aka Fellswap Gold Sans) for a bara Swapfell variant so he had that name at the very beginning of his design process.

So yeah, it really is a case by case thing. Inspiration simply does what it wants in whatever order.

#wish talks #Q and A #shattered!monarch #greed sans #slate sans

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deathsmark · 3 months

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zed eyes widen, pupils withering to pinpricks of anguish, his father’s infuriated reprimand rings in his ears like static, the flourish of his mother’s hands as she asks where she went wrong blurs into his peripherals. “... what have you done.” his stomach churns, bile scraping at the back of his throat, his head pounding in strident dissonance. on the floor, in an accumulation of splintered paint & every single dream he had left in that place was his guitar. the headstock was shattered, guitar - strings recoiling in on themselves as they were wrested from the fretboard, the mutilated body splitting & he could only envision how they’d done it. his mouth dried, as he lowered his head he felt prickles sear along his skin, forcing back bitter tears of indignation. they knew he loved that guitar. a flash of memory streaks across his vision. shen & him after school loitering around the music store, marvelling at the lavish & ridiculously expensive guitars way out of their price range. how, when he’d finally scraped together enough money to get one they’d lounged around on shen’s bed idly plucking the strings to no particular melody & how it had felt to write his first song. you need to focus on your studies, have you seen how atrocious your grades are ? his mother’s grating keening abrades against his senses, his father lowering until they are eye level. there will be no of this nonsense, do you understand. all of the things he endured, the punitive lectures, the late nights of forcing himself to study, the college preparation, all of it, in those four, vapid - white walls & for whose sake. “ what have you done.” he repeats, keeping his eyes on the ground, his fingers clenching into a tight, quaking fist. his father doesn’t retreat, clicking his tongue in irritation, this was what they got for spoiling him, or something like that, muttered under his breath & with a deep furrow of his brow. he doesn’t think, he can’t think, he’s raising his fists & sinking his fingers into his father’s collar dragging him down, fury rendering his expression white & searing. “ what the fuck did you do ?” his mother’s face blanches in terror, his father’s mouth splits in an incensed series of insults & before he knows it zed is also on the ground, his cheek stings as it grows red, his father’s arm hangs in the air, his fist a fair and just punishment. “ you will not lay your hands on me, do you understand, boy.” and zed spits, his furious glare shifting between the guitar & his own, shaking hands, digging blunt , painted black nails into the kitchen tiles in umbrage. “ fuck you…” and he doesn’t look back, pulls himself to his knees, ignoring how weak and fucking leaden they felt, ignoring his father as he demands hs turn his ass around, his mother as she mediates while also entirety taking his father’s side. music didn’t come with career potential, he should have understood that this was just a facile hobby that he could forget once they graduated.

in his room he stuffs hoodies & jeans into a duffle bag, more violently than they deserve. the room had never felt like his, even when he had tacked band posters to the walls, or when he had set up the speaker set he bought cheaply online; that his parents had quickly confiscated. now, as he shoved the half empty bottle of rum he had snuck over to shen’s on his birthday, it felt even less like it belonged to him. the door lock his parents had been so opposed to proved its worth for even as they rattled the knob until it shook it held in place, his father’s cursing fading away as he made sure his entire weight was behind each step down the stairs. zed didn’t bother to come back out, scaling the tree down the side of the house had become second nature anyway, they wouldn’t talk this out, there was no way in hell he was forgiving what they had done.

the walk to shen’s house was around twenty minutes & with the duffle strung over his shoulders, bulging with his few remaining prized possessions, it felt like a lifetime. he swung the bottle of rum back, it burnt & tasted revolting but was better than the seething tears or the glaring hurt that tightened in his chest. when he crossed the bridge, just a few roads over from the closest thing to a real home he had, zed took a moment to gaze blearily at the flecks of light dispersed across the city, to take in the streak of headlights as they swept beneath the underpass. in frustration, he kicked the pole, his boot thudding against cold steel, the dull throbbing also felt better than his own, wallowing pity. “ shit.” he muttered, pulling out his phone, he should text shen, showing up at his place unannounced wasn’t exactly something he didn’t do on the regular but - he also didn’t generally almost punch his father in the face & leave home with the few metal band CDs & shirts he had to his name.

#zed was just about out of highschool when he left home and he never fucking went back after this askljdasd.#hcs.#hcs /#modern verse /#i am not gonna re-write this to make it pretty because it has its own violent teenaged angst feel and im here for it.

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eagleeyethree · 2 years

Photo

More pencil drawings

I didn’t see it until after I finished drawing but there’s already a version of “Get Help” from rum-and-shattered-dreams here!

#gravity falls #stanley pines #stanford pines #fanart #my art

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disneyanddisneyships · 2 years

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Second part of the prequel in alistars POV. @gyubby99

Hours later, he walked to Ella's room and knocked on the door gently. "Who is it?" Ella asked from the other side. "Its me...." Alistar stated. He heard Ella sigh. "Come in," she stated. And he did, he walked in to see her sitting on a chair and reading. "Beauty and the beast?" He asked. Ella nodded before placing a bookmark in it before closing her book. "What do you need?" She asked. "To apologize," alistar replied. "No need. I'm leaving in the morning. We won't have to see one another until the week of or marriage," Ella stated. Alistar could've sworn he felt his heart shatter into a million peices. "Ella... what I said.... I didn't mean it...." Alistar stated. "I'm not sure if I can take your word for that.... please leave...." ella muttered as she gently nudged him out, closing the door in his face. He stood there, looking blankly at the door, eyes filling with tears. Did he just lose his best friend?

Years passed. "Son what have I told you about love?!" His father yelled from his throne. "Its weakness," Alistar replied. "Then why the hell did I find a picture of Princess ella in your drawer?!" The king asked. Alistar remained silent. "Looks like we'll have to teach you a lesson," his father spoke darkly before a knight brought out a torch. "Father?" Alistar asked, his breathing picking up. His father set the photo on fire. "FATHER NO!" Alistar yelled as he started to rum up to get the photo. 4 knights held him back, one of them holding Alistar's face so he was forced to watch Ella's photo burn. "Love," his father scoffed. "Love doesn't exist. If you love someone, it's weakness. Hate us stronger, son. The sooner you learn that, the sooner you'll be ready for the throne," The king spoke. Alistar sat in his room that night. No reminders of what ella looked like.. or sounded like.... thus time.. he was utterly alone in the world.

Alistar layed there on the floor as he bled out. For a moment he thought Ella was crawling toward him.... but... she made a turn toward Elias, the blacksmith. Ella cradled his head in her arms as tears brimmed her eyes. Alistar's breathing got slower as Eli's stopped. He heard ella let out a scream so loud and painful that he could've sworn he heard Zeus himself become startled. What have I done? He thought as he saw the girl of his dreams in pain... pain that he himself caused. As Alistar faded to nothing, his last thought was of Ella, and how much he regretted what he did to her, his dove, the one he thought he loved once. Now he saw. Love wasn't weakness.... Jealousy, and anger was weakness.... Love was almost all alistar had.... and yet he broke it....

#i'm so sorry

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rottingformerfirstmate · 2 years

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Embraced pls! Ed and Stede

Stede doesn't know what to expect when he sees Ed again. It's been a long time, too long, since he ran from their forever after and subsequently faked his own death, and the tales of a Blackbeard twice as fierce and cruel as before are hard to avoid in the turbulent Caribbean. To hear some tell it, Blackbeard has started calling himself the Kraken from time to time. The name always reminds Stede of Ed's dark, wet eyes peering up at him, reflecting back golden candle light as he sprawled out in an empty tub. He assumes this reunion will not be a happy one.

He has his sword in hand, if loosely held at his side, when he boards the vessel. Ivan and Fang helped him come aboard, now standing like sentries at each of Stede's shoulders, waiting. Izzy said he would fetch the captain the moment he saw Stede's hair peeking over the banister. Frenchie is nearby, focusing very intently on scrubbing the deck if not for an occasional furtive glance in his direction.

The moment Ed arrives on deck, the world stills. The ocean breeze calms, the waves ease, the sounds of life at sea dull, and Stede's heart stops beating. He doesn't look well. Charcoal smears around his eyes and over a stubbly beard, clear tracks cutting his cheeks where he must have cried some of it off. His hair is wild and in need of brushing. There's a half-empty bottle of rum in his hand. And, for a moment, everything is frozen.

Izzy flinches when the bottle hits the deck, shattering and spilling across the wood. Ed runs across the deck toward him, a perfect personification of the stories he confessed to hating, but before Stede can prepare for whatever happens, he finds himself stumbling back against the railing with the force of Ed's body colliding with his.

It's lucky that the railing holds, because Stede needs its support as he figures out what's going on from the tight pressure of Ed's thighs around his own, the warm arms around him, and the fingers clutching at his hair. It's confirmed when he feels wet tears soak through the thin linen of his shirt.

"Oh, Ed," Stede manages to say, "I'm so sorry, my darling. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm so damn sorry, I never wanted to hurt you."

He has to help support Ed, would even if he didn't because it's like a dream come true to be with him again, and wraps one arm around Ed's waist as he grips Ed's bad leg with his other hand to make sure he doesn't fall. He never got to hold him like this before. He should have.

"Why did you do that?" Ed asks, and it may be meant to sound angry, but instead Stede just hears the pain. "You told me-" he sobs into Stede's chest.

"I know. I know, and I'd love to explain everything, if you'll let me. Why don't I make us some tea, alright, and we can talk while the crew reunite."

Frenchie has gotten up from his work at some point in Stede's distraction, now standing a few feet away, wringing his hands. "Reunite? They're okay?"

"They're okay," Stede confirms. "A little worse for wear. Right pissed about being marooned. But all of them are fine, and they'll be very glad to see you. Could you fetch Jim and Lucius?"

Ed stiffens in Stede's arms.

"Relax, Captain," Izzy says, clearly directed at Ed. "The boy's not dead. Found him clinging to the hull the morning after, the stubborn fucking twat. He'll be glad to stop sneaking around."

There's a story there that Stede needs to hear, but at least the crew that didn't get marooned are still alive. It's good news. Best he could have hoped for. Still, he knows that there's a lot of talking to be done, and the sooner, the better.

"Come on, love," he says, easing Ed back to the deck. "It seems we have a lot to discuss."

#blackbonnet #gentlebeard #edward teach #ed teach #stede bonnet #ofmd #blackbeard ofmd #our flag means death #our flag means death fic #ofmd fic #emwrite

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