#Dock Finger Market

[reverie-verse]

Azriel x Reader: The Bond of a Century

An old request that I decided to revamp

Request prompt: Can I request an Azriel x reader where the mating bond snaps for Azriel but not the reader? Kind of like how Feyra didn’t know Rhys was her mate till she was told.

My prompt: A bond forgotten for over a century and a half makes its way back to the forefront. All of it starts with Rhys asking for a favor.

This is a fluffy, steamy, angst-ish fic

I hope you enjoy!!!! My requests are open!!!

____________________________

This was the last thing you thought you would be doing for Rhys. Out of all the things, this-this is what he chose for you to do. Rhys had a sick twisted mind that put you in a situation you had no desire of being in or a part of. You mentally cursed at the high lord, hating him in the moment even though he was your dearest friend. Elain scoured the city for certain pots for her plants, and certain seeds for her garden. Azriel right by her side and you trailing behind them. All you wanted to do was to go back to your home near the docks. It was the first home you had when you first moved from Dawn to Velaris less than a century ago, but with some convincing Rhys and Feyre were able to get you to stay at the town house. It was only then did her sisters arrive, and at some point you were put to the task of keeping an eye on Elain with the occasional visit of Az. Honestly you wished you could train with Nesta, but Cassian was chosen for that task. You wouldn’t have minded living in the house of wind-“ I think I need to go to Day Court or maybe Spring,Oh perhaps we go to Dawn instead. They must have better pots.” Elain speaks more to Azriel than she does you. You were eyeing the various shops, and the people delighted to be around you, each grinning and waving at you. Another beautiful thing about Velaris you’d come to love. People were kind here.

Azriel smiled softly at her “ Of course, if that’s what you want” his voice was tender and sweet. You fought the urge to roll your eyes, turning your attention elsewhere. You hated being there dealing with this shit, but Rhys insisted you tag along, “It’s good for the soul. Get some fresh air” with that insane cat-like smirk. Ooo you shoot daggers into your mind, a deep chuckle echoing in the background.

“ Yes that’s what I want, thank you Az” Elain returned the gesture.

“ Alright then I’ll let Rhys and Feyre know-“ You say as you pinched a flower petal between your thumb and index finger. You looked away from it then back at them. The two watched you with curiosity, you let go of the petal. It was no simple task, an easy reminder of what you needed to do and a simple approval came from Rhys. A gentle poke in your mind causes you to shake your head.“-Let's get this over with” You take steps towards them placing your hands on their arms you effortlessly winnow the three of you to Dawn. The landing was gentle and less sickening, the three of you placed in a Market, one that you were familiar with.. Elain squealed with excitement as she rushed over to an area where she had seen fresh flowers, a few shops down could be seen a pottery shop, the two of you already trailing her.

“ Look at this beautiful bouquet! Y/N? Should we get this for the town house?” She gestures to the bouquet filled with many vibrant colors, various shapes and sizes. You were stumped, she normally doesn’t ask you these questions most of the time they were directed at Az.

“They look lovely Elain, I’m sure they’ll fit anywhere you put them..” You replied not really sure how to respond. Honestly you’ve never really thought about what flowers you liked or didn’t . It wasn’t something that was ever given to you, nor something you found and immediately fell in love with. You didn’t have anything against anyone who knew what they liked, you just-never had the experience of looking forward to your own set of plants. Even when you first attempted gardening most of your plants and flowers died, you simply didn’t have the skill or the eye for it..but that was okay, though on rare occasions it was something you wished you had..

Elain smiles awkwardly “ Well, maybe we can get it, it might brighten up the home. Make it seem more natural..comfortable” She pulls out her coins, handing it to the shopkeeper. The three of you move further heading over to the pottery shop that she explained earlier how she wanted to visit. Your eyes searched the area, checking for predators, anyone who might cause harm to the high lady’s sister, before entering the shop. You had other plans that you needed to attend to while the two looked around, it was in the midst of Elains discussion, mostly to Azriel about the various styles of pottery, that you planned to sneak off. It was only then did a voice capture your attention from behind you.

“ Y/N, I must admit I never pegged as you someone who might be interested in pottery” Thesan, high lord of Dawn, speaks out, the entire shop haunting their work to bow at his presence. He waved his hand dismissing them easily back to work. Azriel positions himself so that he stands near you with Elain behind him, she peers her head out, trying to see who it was that spoke so elegantly. A small smile graces your features at that familiar voice you knew so well as you shifted to face Thesan, who was already grinning. Azriel didn’t miss it, taking note of it.

“What if I was?” You retorted,

“ Then that would be a surprise”

“I hate to burst your bubble High Lord but I’m here on business not for pleasure” You replied, the two of you sharing a small laugh together. Azriel forced his expression into neutrality, Elains eyes sparkled with curiosity and intrigue. Thesan looks behind you for a moment, taking in the Shadowsinger and the woman next to him.

“ Ouch, that one hurt Y/N, I see you brought friends, Shadowsinger” Thesan greets civilly no hate present.

“ Thesan,” Azriel gives a simple head nod in his direction, there was no need for malice, Thesan had always been a great friend of Rhys’s and now apparently yours. Though a feeling crept inside his chest, this odd feeling takes root, Azriel does his best to shove it away, especially with Elain right next to him..

“ And you must be Elain, one of the sisters of High Lady Night.”

“ Yes I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you” Elain smiles with a blush that creeps along her cheeks. She wasn’t sure how to respond being that a high lord, whom she never met knew she existed. The surrealness of the situation becomes a reality, the more she realizes how well known her sister is, how well known both of her sisters are including herself. A delighted yet astonishing experience for her, something she wasn’t used to yet.

“ Same to you, i hope you don’t mind if I borrow Y/N for a moment or two, there’s somethings I’d like to discuss” Thesan offered but secretly it was a meeting that needed to take place. You were in fact here on business, something that Rhys specifically shared with you and no one else. Dawn used to be your home, but when you were moved to Velaris, you became the seg way for Dawn and Night. Your job was to be the emissary for both sides, keeping the courts relationship in even better shape. You missed your home dearly at times, and you missed Thesan whom you were extremely close too, and who you cared about, even with this being only for business there was some pleasure that came out of it.

“ No of course not, I’m sure she could use a break from us, right Azriel?” Elain looks up to him but his eyes were trained on you and Thesan. You were ready to join him without so much as another word, it struck a nerve in him, why? What could possibly be the topic of conversation between you two? Why do you only need to speak with him? Surely Rhys would’ve told him what this meeting was about? Why hadn’t you come to him for advice or as a second set of ears? Why was the meeting a secret?-“Azriel?”Elain calls out to him, you were looking at him suspiciously, your eyebrows furrowed, your eyes flickering across every part of his face and bodily language. Azriel adjusts himself, shielding off whatever thoughts or feelings he harbored in the moment. He blinks, his eyes drift back to Elain then back to you and Thesan “ Go ahead, we’ll be here in the shop if you need us, we leave in about two hours”

“ Alright then I will have my men escort the two of you back to my palace.” Thesan replied, You eased the questioning look off your face, you shift back towards Thesan, the two of you walking out of the shop, the conversation immediately flowed. He could see the smile on your face, and yet again the melodic sound of laughter that left your lips. The high lords' guards remained in place while Azriel and Elain both continued their shopping. However, that didn’t stop him from taking one last look out the door.

When the two hours were up, Azriel and Elain were guided securely to the Palace where he’d find you and Thesan walking along the hall. Thesan stopped in his tracks grabbing your arm, it forces you to halt in place, your body halfway facing him. His mouth moves but Azriel can’t hear what he’s saying, he lifts a hand to your face gently swiping at your cheek. He removes his hand, pulling you gently into a tight embrace. Azriel could see the way you held onto him tightly, as if you dared to let go. The two of you stayed in that position for a few moments until you both eventually pulled away. Why were you crying? Were you hurting? Were they happy tears? Did he say something to you? What was it? There were too many emotions to pinpoint, Azriel’s chest continued to tighten at the emotions he felt. You left Thesans' side offering him one last smile, but that smile fades, when you approach them.

“It’s time, are you ready?” You ask softly, your demeanor changed, a bit relaxed but a heavy weight stays on your shoulders. You roll them back, adjusting yourself. Azriel watches you with such careful eyes, you paid no mind, your thoughts elsewhere.

“ Yes-“ Elain starts but her gaze flickers back and forth between you both. For Elain it was rather odd to see the two of you interact, when she had met you, your relationship with Azriel was already thin, you were distant with him compared to everyone else. Elain assumed that your relationship had always been like that, but now she wasn’t so sure..

“ Are you alright?” Azriel asks you, his hand twitches slightly, part of him restrains himself, the other yearned to reach out for you. But you were quick to recover, offering him a reassuring smile.

“ Yeah I’m fine, let’s go.” You placed your hands on both of them, winnowing them back to the town house. There Nuala and Cerridwen greeted the three of you. Nuala took the pots out of Elains hands, Cerridwen took the flowers and placed them in another vase. Elain begins gushing about the journey to Dawn, how gorgeous it was..You sighed exhausted leaving the space quietly to head to your own room. Azriel was about to follow you when Elain called for his help in the kitchen. Azriel hesitated staring up at the staircase. Why couldn’t he just talk to you? He’s a Shadowsinger, a spymaster, and he can pry details out of anyone but you. All he can feel is your emotions-your emotions... Elain had pulled Azriel from his thoughts as she hugged a pot to herself.

“Az? Are you coming?” She says as she waits for him to follow her to the garden. Again he hesitates but he feels a stirring in his chest. Azriel lifts up a hand instinctively touching it, a sharp sensation could be felt beneath his chest. It couldn’t be? Could it? Azriel’s eyes widen, Elain takes a breath “ I’ll be outside Az when you’re ready-“ Azriel moves his feet faster than his mind could process, he was out of the town house door, his wings pushing him off the ground shooting him into the sky, he needing some time to think..

___

The moons at its highest peak, your curtains flowing with gentle breeze that filtered through your bedroom. The candles and lights burnt out signaling that you were asleep, that was until you heard a creak in the floorboard, and the atmosphere changed, a darker presence filled the space. You were lying on your stomach, your hands slipping beneath the pillow as you grip the handle of the blade you’ve hidden beneath it. You felt the figure stop just before your bed frame, you could hear them bend down towards your face. As they reached for you, you swiftly reached out a free hand grabbing them, you flipped them onto the bed, rolling over pinning them down with your blade tucked against their neck in the most vulnerable area.

“ It’s only me” He whispers, the lights in the room reaching a dim hue, illuminating the area.

“ Jeez Az, I could’ve killed you” You replied tiredly, you pulled back the blade placing it on the end table. Azriel’s eyes followed your movement above him, your hips and legs straddling him, your hair in an unruly nature, from slumber. The candles hue amidst the room, caresses your face, your bare legs, your skin making it appear warm to the touch. You had worn a tunic that wasn’t yours, it hugged loosely around your body frame. The tunic looked oddly familiar to Azriel but then again he wasn’t so sure. All he wanted to do was rip whoevers tunic that belonged to, off of your body and replace it with his.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you-” He apologizes,”-I have one question I’d like to ask you” Azriel whispers, as he watches your facial expression twitch into a sleepy confusion.

“This couldn’t wait till morning?” You sighed as your hand moved to rub the sleep from your face. You remove yourself from him, you slip off the bed but not before Azriel caught your wrist. He shifts himself so that he sits up lifting himself off the bed. He towers over you, the candle's glowing light touches his features in a way that it could come off intimidating, but there was a more intimate, soft, texture that made him appear more angelic.

“ No I’m afraid not.” He admits.

You nod your head” What’s your question?”

“ How long have you known about the bond?”Azriel’s voice low, as if to test the waters but enough to plunge himself. He needed answers and after speaking with Rhys, it was his right.

“ What?” Your face dropped, your skin becoming clammy as nervousness passes through you, sleepiness evades you.

“ You heard me, answer the question” his eyes switch between both of yours, searching and evaluating. He tried to pinpoint every emotion you felt, he tried to feel you through, the only thing stopping him was- you.

“ It's not that simple-” You shook your head, pulling your wrist out of his hold. You weren’t prepared for this, you weren’t ready to unravel all that you worked so hard to ignore.

“ It is that simple” Azriel continued to pry, he didn’t need the bond to notice how uncomfortable and painful this topic was for you-it was news to him, he wanted the truth..no lies no games only the truth

“ No, it’s not. It’s complicated-“ You looked away from him moving to the other side of the room. You couldn't find the words to explain this situation, your reasoning. What if what you told him set him off? What if this ruins everything between your friendships? The alliance that has been created? So many thoughts and questions, never enough answers…but for Azriel you did have an answer to his question..

“ Complicated enough for you to leave.” It was then that feeling in your chest, it builds a thick pressure. A heavyweight on your shoulders, the air almost sucked out your lungs. “ Is that what you told Rhys when you were packing your bags?” You couldn’t breathe, Azriel’s footsteps followed you till he was right behind you. You faintly feel the pulse of his surprise and his anger, as if it was your own, but it had been so long since you’d tapped into the bond. You had spent a century ignoring it, shielding it, and now, it was muscle memory..

“ Don’t make me do this..” You whispered out, a silent plea to move on, to let this go.

“ You knew, and yet you decided not to tell me” His voice held a deep frustration, a deep want and need. He wasn’t going to give up, he had a way with finding out the truth..

“ That’s-not what happened..” You were again stumped with words, torn between giving in or lying, torn between running away or staying..

“ No? Then what happened?” He continues to look down at you, you refuse to meet his gaze. Azriel doesn’t take no for an answer moving towards the front. He stands in front of you. His smell, his faint emotions from the bond slowly consuming you. It surrounds you, his shadows dance along the edges of the room, waiting, watching, whispering.

“ Az-” You warned him, it was another weak attempt to fight him off. But he continued to poke, to pull, to pry, to grasp at anything you’d give him. You were tired, exhausted, hiding your emotions, your thoughts, your protected heart and mind bound to collapse, all secrets were meant to escape..

“ I want the truth, Y/N-”. You took a deep breath, your nerves running a mile a minute. His own anxiousness was replaced with a demanding thirst for the truth. A truth that belonged to him too. You’ve kept this wonderful secret to yourself, he watched as his own family found mates that paired well with them. Watching as their life finds the pieces to the puzzle it was missing. Deep down he wanted that very same thing. He felt as though he may not deserve it but he craved it, to be loved unconditionally… “-You owe me that much”

You sighed, your heart shattering, you gave in, you really hadn’t planned too but the look in his eyes-, “..Before Amarantha began her reign, Rhys made an offer to Thesan to let me stay in Velaris, as an emissary between the courts. It was then that I found out that we were mates… It was then that the deal was made.“

“All these years and you kept this to yourself, why?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“ Because I knew you were in love with Mor. I wasn’t going to take that from you. But I did wait for you, I waited a long time. But when it became an achingly slow desperation, I gave up. I practiced silencing the bond, so I couldn’t feel the emotions you felt when you were around other-women..romantically and lustily I mean. Then Elain came around and it was the same process. I’m exhausted, Azriel. I can’t keep doing this”

“ You didn’t bother to try! You’re running back home because you never thought to ask how I might’ve felt!” His jaw tenses, his head slightly tilted to the side, his frustration grows, at this notion of forcing the information out of you, when you should’ve let it happen, when you should’ve told him..

“ I didn’t because I wanted you to come to your own conclusion. I wanted it to be as natural as possible but you were so invested in Mor and Elain and I’m not one to take you away from that. But I also miss the people I care about, I miss my old home-It’s time for me to go-” You protested.

“ What does Rhys think of this?” Azriel jaw twitches.

“ He was the one who encouraged me to speak with Thesan-“

“ Is that what the discussion was between the two of you?” He presses.

“ Yes but-“ You attempt to defend yourself.

“ Y/N, what exactly did you say to him?” Azriel wanted every detail, every version of this story, of his story, of his mates-his mate.

“ I didn’t- I didn’t say anything. I asked if I could return home, and he told me that I should stay here, that if I truly wanted to come home then he’d considered it.” Your heart leaps into your throat, you swallow it back, the feeling collecting.

“ His answer wasn’t even a Yes” Azriel’s scoffs shaking his head, his hands on his hips as he looks at the floor and then away at the window.

“ Yes- but it’s my decision-“ You looked up at him, watching his movements carefully.

“ No it’s not, you’re not going back there.” He challenged, his eyes find their way back to yours.

“ You can’t decide that.” You tell him, the two of you hurting by the weight of your decision. Azriel’s own heart squeezes painfully, at how easy it was for you to say those words to him. You were his, he wasn’t going to let you just walk away, not without fighting for you.

“ Why not? You’d already decided to keep this to yourself regardless of how I felt” He takes a step forward his arms falling back down to his side.

“ Azriel please listen to me-“ You tried to reason, you tried to find a way to break through, he wasn’t thinking straight, you weren’t thinking straight, neither one of you.

“ No you listen, all those years, all those centuries, you were my friend, and you were someone who loved me. Loved me enough to sacrifice what you felt so I could find happiness. In the depths of my mind I have fought and searched for you without realizing that you were here in front of me..I was too blind to see it. ” His hands flew to your face, your jaw, cupping it, his thumbs grazing your cheekbones. Your hands follow suit as your fingers grip his wrists. His shadows remove themselves from the dark corners of your room, shooting out to tangle around your wrists, not to pull your hands away but to hold you there in place. “ Please don’t run from me” He whispers, his forehead dipping down to rest on yours. His hands slide from your cheeks to the sides of your neck.

“ Az-I can’t stay” You replied quietly, your hands pulling at his wrists weakly at his. You both knew that you could take him down easily, but at this moment in time the two of you were struggling. The tension grew thick in the air. A sort of sharp feeling intensifies, the faded familiarity that was the bond, solidifies. You thought that you had successfully mastered the art of blocking the bond but no. Azriel must’ve truly accepted it, a different feeling takes over, Azriel hums at the feeling. You sucked in a breath.

“ You can’t leave without knowing I’ve accepted the bond” His nose brushes against yours. You shook your head once more, completely pushed Azriel away. Your hands fly to your head, your fingers tangling in your hairs. You wanted nothing more than to curl into yourself, this was too surreal, too overwhelming. You’d spent so long, alone, and working, on occasions waiting. Now you were uncertain, even more than you had been hours ago. Azriel could feel your indecisiveness, he just needed to bring you back to him.

Azriel followed you, he pulled your hands from your hair, one of them he placed on his chest, his heart beating beneath it, you couldn’t look at him. But you could feel the gentleness, the love that flowed through him into you. “ My heart, my soul belongs to you” he tries again. You could feel your body sag at the feeling of comfort. It was so intense and welcoming. You wanted to wrap yourself in it-but you fought it, you were so used to the fighting, the restraint, the self control. “Let go” His voice reaches into the depths of your mind, into your soul, calling out to you.

You placed your forehead on his chest, your hand leaving the area above his heart. Azriel’s wings moved to surround you, his shadows moved to get to you, tangling themselves in your hair, caressing your face and hands. They speak to you wishing you nothing but love and happiness. They bring you comfort, your eyes fluttering shut.

“ Y/N” Azriel calls out. You could feel his hands cupping your face once more tilting it upwards, his breath light. You could feel how close he was, Azriel was right there, all he needed to do-Az’s lips crashed down onto yours, so soft, and yet his kiss held all his desperation, his passion. He couldn’t hold back, not with you, not when he loved you so. You weren’t surprised, in fact you hadn’t realized how much you yearned for his touch, his kiss. Azriel turns his head to the side deepening the kiss, a quiet moan slips out. By the cauldron Azriel loved to hear that sound, he wanted to hear it again, and again, and again. For as long as he lived and breathed.

You were putty in his hands, the feeling of his touch, his thoughts, his emotions was putting you in overdrive. Your mind couldn’t comprehend nor catch up to the pace in which things were happening. Azriel lets go of your lips for a brief moment, allowing you a chance to breathe, a whimper and the need for air also escapes your lips. Azriel had to fight the urge to keep himself from taking you right then and there. You had the urge to let him do it, you placed your hands on his chest pushing him back a step. You couldn’t think with him in your space, Azriel wasn’t going to budge, but with the way you were so caught up and caught off guard, he let you take a second.

“Okay-“ You breathed out. Azriel’s eyes light up, a smile threatens to break out. “ I-um-“ You cleared your throat,”Uh-I-I accept the bond..” you whispered the last part. Azriel’s heart gave a squeeze of joy, his chest filled with lightness, with happiness and relief. All he had ever hoped for had finally come to fruition. A twinkle of mischief sparks in his eyes, a smirk finds its way onto his beautiful features.

“ What was that?” He asks, yet you squint your eyes at him, you know he heard, he knows he heard you, but he wanted you to say it again. “-I didn’t quite hear you” You bit the inside of your cheek still squinting at him. You sighed, your body began to relax, your facial expressions changing to that of a sheepishness. You were struggling to admit it, Azriel waited for you patiently.

“ I-“

“ Yes?”

“ Az” You raised your eyebrows at him, as if to say I’m trying here.

“ I’m sorry, please go on.” He encourages you.

You sighed as you tried again this time “ I accept the bond-” You are much more confident and certain. “I’ve loved you since I’ve known you. You were right, my heart and soul belongs to you-“Azriel couldn’t contain himself much longer as took you into his arms and spun you around. A victorious grin graced both of your features, and for once the weight of the world didn’t feel so heavy in your chests. You gave a light hearted giggle, your heart swooning. Azriel places you back on the ground. You smiled brightly, the twinkle reaching your eyes. “This is happening?” You asked out loud, you searched for clarification.

“ Yeah it is” Azriel let go grabbing your hand pulling you towards the window. You tilted your head to the side, a sweet smile on your lips, a playful yet teasing expression stretches onto Azriel’s face. “Do you trust me?” his hand extends outward.

“ Yes.” You lift your hand to place it into his, this time a new height sense fills both your bodies. The touch feels like a loving hum on your skin. Your minds, your souls, finally resting after all the searching that it had done. You place your hand in his, he guides you out of the window onto the terrace of the town house. You followed him blindly, willingly. Azriel stood taller in the moonlight, and the stars above shining, his shadows nowhere to be found, it was just him. “ Az wait- Elain-“

“She knows, and I’m sure she will be upset with me, but she has Lucien..She doesn’t need me.” He nods. You watch him closely, as you slowly lift a hand to caress his cheek, the touch sweet and warming. Azriel instinctively leans into your touch, turning his head slightly to kiss the palm of your hand.

“ I’m sorry” You whispered, you realized that you may have ruined a friendship for him, a little bit more than a friendship..

“ No I’m sorry” he replies as he takes you back into his arms, the sounds of the city's music playing amongst the trees, the flowers, the plants, the night sky seeming more inviting, more alive. All Azriel knew was in this moment in time he finally understood the accept of the bond, the waiting, the calling, you had always been there waiting for him, you gave him time, space, anything he needed to figure himself out..All those times he spent with other women- then it dawned on him, had you done the same? You chuckled upon feeling that jealous emotion. “ Who’s tunic are you wearing?”

“ Az, it’s yours”

“ What-“ You peel yourself out of his arms.

“ This tunic you let me borrow on a mission we had, remember? Court of nightmares? I was stuck in a brothel, I ended up fighting my way out, my clothes were completely shredded?” You offered bits and pieces of the memory, Azriel’s takes a moment to recollect and it hits him.

“ Yes I remember, you ate a bowl of soup that night at one of the hostels. You hated it,” He chuckled as he remembered the disgusted look on your face. You laughed alongside him. You moved to head back towards your room but Azriel was quick to catch your hand.

”Where are you going?”

“Um-to make you something, we still have to seal the bond.”

“ Not here”

“ Then where?” Azriel grins as he throws one of your arms around his neck, one catches your back the other catches your knees.

“ Somewhere private, where I can have you all to myself, no distractions, just you and me” He whispers to you, his face dipping closer to yours, you sucked in a small breath, the blood beneath your skin singing, practically humming. His arms tightened their hold on you pressing you as flush to him as possible. Azriel looks away and upwards towards the night sky, his wings strong as they help push the two of you off the ground. Excitement filled the air, the night, seemed sweeter, less stuffy, inviting. You guessed that Thesan was right for making you stay here, to reconsider, you were thankful that he pointed you back in the direction of your mate. Azriel was happy that his brother fought for his love, fought for him to find happiness. It was more than just two courts keeping a civil peace, it was about two souls that needed to find each other, even if it takes a century.

#azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel smut #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #azriel x female!reader #poc reader #x reader #x y/n #imagines #acotar x reader #acotar fluff #acotar angst #acotar smut #acotar x you #acotar #fanfic readers #x poc reader #fluff #fanfic

[aemondsbabe]

What is Owed

summary: the gold cloaks raid the brothel, you make a deal to secure your freedom

pairing: harwin strong x lyseni!reader x daemon targaryen

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, reader is briefly described as having lyseni features (pale hair, purple eyes) but no other physical descriptors are used, mentions of sex work, reader is a sex worker, breast/nipple play, dirty talk, double penetration, piv sex, anal sex, anal fingering, regular fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, double creampie oh jeez, oral (m receiving), handjobs, hands on necks, "whore" is used both as a pet name and degradingly we love innovation, big hulking men idk, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 7.7k

a/n: so sorry for being away! wasn't intentional, just busy with life things! but god i missed writing and i'm so happy to finally have this one done! daddies galore!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

❤️my masterlist

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

A barely concealed sigh of disgust leaves your lips, which remain pulled into a tight, docile smile as some lord, whose name you couldn’t be bothered to remember, finally finishes over your bare chest with a beastly grunt, his hips twitching as you stroke him through it. 

Took his sweet time, you think as you rise to your feet and quickly grab one of the spare cloths stashed in the nearby vanity to wipe his spend from your chest. Depositing the cloth in a nearby basket, you take a moment to right your dress and run your fingers through your pale hair. Finally, you turn back around and eye the man still lying across the ornate chaise catching his breath. 

You glance at his trousers, still haphazardly piled on the floor, before checking him once more, smirking when you see that his eyes are still closed. Carefully, you make your way over to his trousers and kneel once more as you grab for the heap of fabric; keeping your eyes on him, you swiftly rifle through the pockets and smile triumphantly as you pull a few coins from one – one golden dragon, three copper stars, and a half-penny. 

Grinning, you toss the man’s trousers back onto the floor before quickly grabbing the small coin purse you keep tucked away beneath the chaise, way back toward the wall and covered by the ends of one of the red satin curtains that cover the windows of the brothel – the perfect hiding spot until you can move them to the more secure lock-box beneath your bed. 

“Mmph,” the lord sighs, stirring finally just as you drop the last coin into your pouch. Shoving it back beneath the chaise, you quickly rise to your feet with a placid smile just as he finishes stretching. 

“Some wine for you, my lord,” you smile, keeping your voice light and sweet in just the way the Madam likes as you offer him a goblet, “To replenish your strength.”

“Yes, yes,” the older man mumbles, paying you no mind as he busies himself with the buttons on his tunic, “Fetch me my trousers,” he commands, brushing you off with a wave of his hand. 

“Of course, my lord,” you nod, teeth gritting as you set the goblet back down before grabbing his blasted trousers with an eye roll. He all but snatches them from you with a pompous little hum, not even looking in your direction. Once again behaving as the Madam demands, you merely stand by while he redresses, hands clasped demurely in front of you as you wait to be of service once again, or, hopefully, to kindly escort him to the door. 

You don’t mind working in the brothel, not really, especially knowing that it could be much worse – you could’ve ended up as one of the many beggars that line the streets of Flea Bottom or, more dreadful still, stuck as a slave back home. It was luck, really, that brought you to the brothel in the first place, back when you were still stumbling half-blind with grief around the fish market by the docks only to be plucked up by chance by a few of the girls from the brothel. They’d brought you back here, promising that the Madam would take you in, that you’d earn great money with your exotic looks. 

One of those things had been true – the Madam was very happy to take you in. Technically, you do also make great money… for the brothel; only a small percentage is ever paid back to the workers and, for your circumstances, that just won’t do. Which is precisely why you sometimes took a little tip for yourself, especially if your client for the evening was of higher status; it’s not as if they’d miss, or even notice, a few missing coins. 

As far as you’re concerned, it’s a flawless system. 

You’re brought out of your short reverie by another sigh from the lord as he polishes off the goblet of wine you’d offered some moments ago and once more, your lips quirk up into a pleasing smile, “Leaving so soon, my lord?”

“Mm,” he merely grumbles before flashing you a lecherous grin, his yellowed teeth making your stomach turn, “Worry not, girl, I’ll be back before the tournament’s over.”

“Wonderful,” you sigh, grimacing internally as you make a half-step toward the arched doorway, “I’ll see you out.” Blessedly, the lord makes no more of a fuss and lets you lead him to the entryway, sparing you one final nod before slipping down the dimly lit street. 

You remain in the doorway for a moment more, arms crossed over your chest as you gaze outside, relishing the feel of the cool night air against your skin. After a moment, though, your eyes narrow when you realize the streets seem much quieter than usual. At this hour, there would normally be more people about – some returning from a long day of work, others already stumbling around drunk, but tonight there were only a few scattered people roaming about. 

“Strange…,” you murmur to yourself, absentmindedly running a finger over the gold chain around your neck, your fingers brushing over the small key hanging from it. Sparing a glance up at the Dragonpit looming on the nearby hill, you finally close the door with a shrug. Returning to the room you’d serviced the lord in, you glance around quickly to make sure the coast is clear before you retrieve the small coin purse from beneath the chaise, smiling at the weight of it as you carry it swiftly back to your bed, to your little lockbox, wholly unaware of the envious gaze on your back. 

“Commander on the floor!” One of the Gold Cloaks shouts as Daemon prowls into the hall, a self-righteous smirk on his lips as the drum of fists against chest plates ceases. 

“When I took command of the Watch, you were stray mongrels,” he growls, dark violet eyes surveying the men around him, “Starving and undisciplined!” 

He pauses for a second, heart pounding with the heady sensation of power as he prepares to do what his dear older brother cannot – punish. Too long have the streets of King’s Landing, of his city gone to the Seven Hells; controlled by crime and near-anarchy when they should be controlled by him, by the dread of his authority. 

“Now, you’re a pack of hounds,” his voice rises as he speaks, as he breathes life into his men, “You’re sated and honed for the hunt!”

Howls erupt around the hall, making the prince’s lips stretch into a vicious grin – his men were ready, ready to rule with the iron fist Viserys lacked. 

“My brother’s city has fallen into squalor!” He says, pacing down the room, “Crime of every breed has been allowed to thrive!”

His chainmail clinks with each of his heavy steps, pride swelling in his chest as many of the soldiers nod their heads along with him. It was true, after all, everyone knew it. Viserys may have the crown, the damned throne, but the dragonfire in his veins had run cold long ago. The blood in Daemon’s burns hot, however; centuries of power and glory fuel his fires, flowing through him like the lava in the Dragonmont. 

“No longer,” he grunts, pausing at the end of the hall, the silken cloth draped over his shoulders shining in the light of the torches lining the room as he turns to eye his men, smirking at the blood lust evident on their faces, “Beginning tonight, King’s Landing will learn to fear the color gold!”

A loud bang wakes you sometime later and you sit up with a small gasp, clutching the linen bed sheets. Whipping your head around, you can see the dark night sky still looms heavily over the city through the slats in the window – you must’ve not been asleep very long. 

Another cry from somewhere outside finally gets you moving and you quickly wrap yourself in an embroidered silk robe, tying it loosely around your waist as you move closer to the door, your ears perked at the sound of frantic whispers. Poking your head through the beaded curtain that separates the sleeping quarters from one of the hallways, you finally spot a familiar face in the dim candlelight. 

“Genna!” You whisper, waving one of the other working girls over, “What’s going on, what’s happened?”

“Gold Cloaks!” She hisses, working quickly to stuff an armful of dresses into a small bag, “They’ve gone mad, they’re rounding up damn near everyone out there!”

“Gone mad?” You echo, brows pinching together as you look toward the entrance, another muffled cry from outside catching your attention, along with the sounds of metal clanging against metal. 

Genna merely nods as she practically shoves past you to get into the room before quickly loading her bag with various perfumes, oils, and loose jewelry from one of the vanities, “One of the regulars came by, woke everyone up,” she explains as she quickly ties the bag off, “They’re taking in anyone who’s so much as nicked an apple from the market.”

Your eyes go wide at her words, head ringing as blood rushes to your cheeks. Thankfully, she seems too busy to notice you glance warily at your bed, knowing your lockbox with weeks worth of lifted coins is tucked neatly below it. 

“I’m telling you, if you’ve pocketed even one extra groat, you’re as good as dead,” She shakes her head as she slings her bag over one shoulder, “Get out while you can, yeah? I think they’re a ways away st–”

A deafening crash from the front of the building cuts her off, the both of you shrieking. Your heart pounds in your chest at the sound of men’s voices; yours and Genna’s heads swivel to face one another at the same time before you both glance at the large wardrobe in the corner of the room – big enough for someone to climb inside of. 

It seems you both have the same idea at the same time, each of you scrambling toward the cupboard. She’s a second behind you, though, her hefty bag slowing her by an instant and she yelps as you pull the wooden doors closed, pinching one of her fingers. You push yourself as far back in the cramped space as you can, trying to tuck yourself behind the hanging coats and dresses.

Finally, you stay as still as possible, chest heaving as your back presses into the wood behind you. You hear a muffled curse from Genna before she shrieks as heavy footsteps flood into the room. 

“Shut it, whore!” A guard yells and the sound of a harsh slap makes you cover your mouth with a hand. 

“Careful!” A different voice shouts as more heavy footsteps sound outside, “She’s a woman, not a shadowcat,” the new voice admonished, “Take her outside with the others, then go ahead and take the wagons to the dungeons below the Keep. No harm is to come to any of them, understood?”

“But the Commander sai–”

“I don’t give a shit what the Commander said,” the man all but growled, “I am your superior still, soldier, you take orders from me; I’ll worry about him. The night’s gotten out of hand as it is.”

“Yes, Captain,” the first man grumbles after a second. Heavy footsteps sound for an instant before Genna shrieks again, “I said shut it, whore!” The man’s voice is a bit muffled this time, further away. 

“Tell the Commander I’m searching in here!” The second voice calls out gruffly; silently, you curse. 

You hold yourself as still as possible as the muffled sounds of opening drawers and cabinets sound from outside the wardrobe, slowly but surely getting closer to you. Your heart leaps into your throat as the wardrobe doors are tugged open, yet you hold yourself still and squeeze your eyes closed, a naïve part of you hoping the soldier would just overlook you.

Of course that doesn’t happen. 

“I do see you, you know,” the gruff voice sighs, his eyes on you, “Come on, out,” he commands. 

Finally, you open your eyes and peek at him through gaps of fabric, warily taking in his appearance. Your eyes widen at his size, truly a mountain of a man, with curly dark hair and matching dark eyes, clad in metal plate armor with a familiar golden cloak around his shoulders. The look in his eyes is neutral, if not sympathetic, but you still don’t move, rooted to the spot. 

With another sigh, he shakes his head at you and beckons you forward with a wave of his hand, “Please make this easy.” 

When you still don’t move after a few more seconds, the man grumbles and reaches in, shoving past various articles of clothing until he grabs at your forearm and pulls you, stumbling, from the wardrobe. 

“Let me go!” You cry, struggling in his grasp like a fish on a line, “Let me go, damn you! I haven’t done anything!” You shriek loudly, uselessly kicking your feet as he holds you steady at arms length. 

“Easy!” The dark-haired man shouts over your screeches, “If you’ll just calm–”

“What’s this?” Another voice questions from the doorway, making both of you pause. Your eyes widen when you see the man, dressed in the same gold cloaked armor as the one holding you, though this one has purple eyes and pale white hair cascading over his shoulders, complete with a familiar face you’d seen before in the shadowy corners of the brothel, “Is that her?”

Her? You balk, glancing between the two men, They were looking for me?

The brunette stays silent for a moment, bushy brows furrowed together as he looks between you and the prince, brown eyes meeting two sets of purple, “She’s not… one of his, is she?” He asks quietly, only confusing you more. 

Prince Daemon merely chuckles and shakes his head as he traipses toward you with a smirk. “Ohh, no, definitely not,” he mutters, squeezing your cheeks in one large, gloved hand as he forces your face to lift up toward his, “No, my dearest brother would never dare betray his wife so.”

He tilts your head from side to side, studying your face carefully, before making you face him once again as the other guard keeps hold of your arm, “What’s your name, girl?”

You glance between the men, caged in between their large frames, before finally telling them, each syllable merely a whisper on your lips.

The prince repeats it with a smug smile, the sound of your name on his tongue makes your head spin. “Ah, see, just as I thought,” he smirks, a pleased twinkle in his violet eyes, “A Lyseni whore.”

The other man merely grunts, though you don’t miss the way his dark brown eyes flit over your form appreciatively. Daemon moseys around the room, eyes scanning over the row of matching twin beds lined against one wall. “Which is yours?”

“I… I don’t sleep in here, my pr–”

“Lying won’t do you any good, you know,” he smirks, “We’ve had eyes and ears all over the city for months, including here. So, I’ll ask again. Which bed?”

You hesitate, only for a moment, before nodding at the bed to the far right. Your mind reels as Daemon begins his search, Someone was spying in here? One of the other girls?

“Aha!” He says after only a moment and your heart sinks as he pulls your small wooden lockbox out from its hiding spot. He drops it down onto your bed with a gloating smirk and you glance up just in time to see one of the prince’s pale hands reaching for the key at your neck, easily tugging it off the chain as you gasp and jerk once more in the other man’s grasp. “That was a gift from my father!”

“Daemon, please,” the other man sighs tiredly, scrambling to hold you in place once more, “Was that truly necessary?”

“Don’t start with me, Strong,” the prince huffs, moving to unlock the box, “You’ve spoiled my night of fun enough as is.” A low whistle sounds from his lips as he flips open the lid, quickly shuffling through the various coins, small pieces of jewelry, and other trinkets you’ve managed to swipe. 

“Seems we got the right one after all,” the man holding your arm, the one apparently called Strong, murmurs, nodding toward you.

“Of course we got the right bloody one,” Daemon scoffs, violet eyes rolling in his head, “I only know of two Lyseni whores in this city and it certainly isn’t the other one.” 

“Mysaria!” You whisper lowly, eyes widening as puzzle pieces begin clicking together in your mind.

The prince merely laughs, looking between you and the other knight as if you’ve just told some hilarious joke. “Finally figured it out, eh?” He teases, sauntering over to where you’re still being held. 

As soon as he’s in reach, the guard holding you grabs your other arm as well, holding them both behind your back as if you’d be stupid enough to try anything against two Gold Cloaks. Even if you did manage to free yourself, what would be the point in running now? 

“Seems we have a clever whore on our hands, Strong,” Daemon drawls, grinning when you flinch as he grips your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his once more, “And a pretty one too. You must earn enough to pay your keep, no? A little exotic flower like you is bound to get plucked at often enough.”

You wait for him to continue speaking but he doesn’t, he simply waits, eyes boring into you as if he’s trying to read your thoughts. For all you know, he can – you’ve heard whispers around King’s Landing of how the Targaryens were supposedly closer to Gods than men. 

“I suppose so, my prince,” you all but squeak a moment later, unable to bear the intense silence any longer. 

“Then tell me,” you gasp as he suddenly turns your head, directing your gaze toward the small wooden lockbox strewn open on your bed, “Why does a well paid whore need to steal? Hm?”

“I wasn’t stealing for me!” You blurt, chest heaving.

“Then why do it?” You startle slightly as the knight behind you speaks, his grip on your wrists loosening enough for you to relax some in his grasp. For someone so gruff and intimidating, there was a distinctive warmth to his voice – a soft, kind lilt. 

With a sigh, you glance between the two men before speaking, “I send it back to my family, once every other moon or so.”

“You send money to your family,” Daemon echos, purple eyes narrowed suspiciously, “In Lys, I presume?”

You simply nod, your eyes downcast as the men share a look over your head.

“Why do you need to send them money?” The Strong guard asks as he releases your arms, brown eyes watching you closely. 

“My father was a merchant,” you begin, nervously fiddling with the tie on your robe, “He would travel to Volantis a few times a year to buy the more exotic goods shipped in from cities further east, from the other side of Slaver’s Bay, to bring back to sell in Lys. He could get a better price for them at home, Westerosi ships rarely go any further than our ports and they were willing to pay more.” 

“And then, one time he left for Volantis and… never came back,” you continue, your voice only a raspy whisper as the back of your throat tightens, “We received word some months later that there had been a slave rebellion in the city and that my father had been killed in it. So, now I send money back so that my mother and siblings are able to pay for our house, because in Lys, if you can no longer afford your land you –”

“You risk becoming a slave yourself,” the brunette knight finishes, sighing sympathetically when you nod.

“How very touching,” the prince mutters, though you can see pity clouding his eyes as well. 

“Perhaps we should just let her go,” the Strong guard says after a moment, making you whip your head toward him in shock, “She isn’t a danger to anyone.”

“She may not be,” Daemon says, crossing his arms over his broad chest, “But a drunken, disgruntled lord who’s discovered his gold missing certainly is.”

The brown haired man hums thoughtfully at his reasoning and both of them eye you for a moment, silence falling over the room. 

Shifting your weight from foot to foot, you silently reason that you have two options – convince them to free you or wind up in a cell beneath the Red Keep. Being locked away simply isn’t an option, not for you, as that would mean being unable to send money to your family and although petty theft doesn’t carry the penalty of death, you know that if anything were to happen to them, you’d wish it did. 

Gathering your courage, you look between the two men, eyeing them up and down. “Perhaps,” you start, loosening the tie on your robe just enough to bare your cleavage just a bit more, “I could convince you that I’m worth much more as a free woman?” 

“Little minx,” the prince rasps, stepping toward you and grasping at your jaw once more, “Maybe you’ll prove useful after all,” he says cryptically. 

Before you have time to dwell on his words, he releases you and busies himself with quickly unbuckling his plate armor, letting the chest and torso pieces noisily clank on the floor as they fall against a pile of gold cloth. 

You gasp as Daemon grabs you by the hips and pulls you to him, pressing himself against you tightly as his rough hands roam over your soft curves. You can’t help but giggle as an appreciative grunt leaves his lips, violet eyes darkening as they meet yours. 

“Daemon,” the other guard starts with a sigh, hand resting on the pommel of his sword. 

“Come, ser Strong,” the prince growls, hastily turning you to face the brown eyed man. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you look him up and down, the corners of your lips quirking up into a small smile when you see the flush on his cheeks, “It would be rude to turn down what our little mouse is so generously offering, hm?” The feel of Daemon’s hands on your body makes your eyes flutter closed for just a second, only to snap back open when he roughly grabs at your breasts just as his teeth press against the column of your throat, eliciting a soft cry from you. 

“O-Oh!”

“See? Listen to that,” Daemon says, words muffled against your skin, “She likes it, don’t you?” 

You quickly nod your head yes, head clouded by the feel of the prince’s length as it presses against the small of your back, hard enough to be felt through the trousers they wear under their armor. He chuckles as he suddenly cups your center, the silky fabric of your robe pressing against your already aching flesh, and nips at your neck once more before releasing you. 

“Go,” he murmurs, giving you a gentle push toward the other knight, “Make the stubborn bore more comfortable.”

Biting your lip, you approach the man with a little grin. Standing before him, you move your hand to his shoulder, to the buckles of his plate armor. 

“Is this okay?” 

All he gives you is a curt nod, but it’s enough for you. With another reassuring smile, you pull at the leather buckles, unstrapping them one by one until he grabs at his chest plate and sets it on the floor, more gentle with it than Daemon had been. 

Pausing for a second, you cock your head to the side curiously. “I know him,” you say with a nearly bashful smile, nodding your head at the prince, “But what do I call you, Ser?”

“Harwin, my lady. Just Harwin.”

Still sensing hesitance from him, you decide to be bold and gently take one of his hands and place it on one of your breasts, peering up into his deep brown eyes all the while. Your lips turn up into a pleased smile at the low groan that rumbles from his chest and you marvel at how warm his touch is through your robe, though before you have time to linger on it further, Harwin surges forward and presses his lips against yours. 

You still for a second, not having expected such boldness from a man who had held so much back thus far. Getting your wits about you, you quickly respond in kind and move your lips with his, leaning into him a bit more as you grab at his shoulders. A pleased hum leaves your lips as his hands begin exploring you, seeming to grab and knead at any bits of you he can like he’s been starved for touch for years. 

He groans into the kiss once more when you nip at his bottom lip, prompting him to slip his tongue into your mouth, which earns a small whimper from you as one of your hands slips down from his shoulder to rest on his toned, muscular chest. 

The sudden feel of another presence at your back makes you jump slightly – you’d gotten so wrapped up in Harwin that you’d nearly forgotten that Daemon was still in the room, though the knowledge that he’d been watching the two of you sends an excited zing up your spine. 

“Oh!” You gasp as he begins nipping and biting at your neck once more, soothing the marks he leaves behind with his tongue. Your lips move against Harwin’s as another pair of hands begins exploring you, impatiently tugging at the tie around your waist until your robe falls open. A whine leaves you as the knight’s hands immediately cup your bare breasts, kneading them and savoring the way your soft skin feels against his palms. At the same time, Daemon nearly growls as he presses himself against your ass, grinding his length against you as his hands grip at your hips and waist. 

“I believe you said something about convincing us?” He mutters against your neck, grinning when you pull away from Harwin and meet his gaze as you turn to look over your shoulder, brow raising when you see he’d taken the time to strip off his tunic at some point. 

“Quite right, my prince,” you grin, looking between the two men once more before slipping off your robe, leaving you bare as it pools on the floor. Your cheeks flush at their appreciative groans, skin prickling at the way you can practically feel their eyes on you. 

With another little breath, you lower yourself to your knees between them and immediately skim your hands over their strong thighs. Ever eager, Daemon quickly unties his trousers, a predatory gleam in his purple eyes as he frees his hardening length. 

You bite your bottom lip at the sight of it and quickly reach up to wrap a hand around it, marveling at the way it hardens steadily under your touch. “I think you’ll find I can be very persuasive,” you murmur, softly licking over the tip before sealing your lips around it and suckling gently while you gaze up at him, batting your lashes enticingly. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, long fingers threading into your hair as his head tips back. You grin around him, bobbing your head while you stroke over the rest of his length with a hand, laving your tongue over the head. 

Not forgetting about Harwin, you shift your gaze to him as your other hand palms his length where it presses against the rough fabric of his trousers, already hard and wanting. That seems to be the final straw for him and he scrambles to undo the ties, brown eyes glued to where your lips are wrapped around the prince’s hard cock. 

Your eyes widen when his length finally springs free and you let Daemon slip from your lips as your mouth falls open. “Seven Hells,” you murmur, watching as Harwin strokes a hand over his cock, a proud smirk on his lips. 

“Well now, that must be where your damn stubborn attitude comes from, Strong,” the prince teases, chest heaving as you continue stroking a hand over his length. 

Unable to resist, you brush the knight’s hand away before grasping his cock in your own, heart skipping a beat as your fingers hardly touch around the girth of it. You lean over and lick up the length of him, from the base to the very tip, before taking him into your mouth, bobbing your head in the same way you did with Daemon. 

It takes a few moments, but eventually you settle into a good rhythm – stroking one man’s member with your hand while you suck and lick at the others, swapping every few moments or when one of them gets impatient enough to tug you over by the hair. 

It’s easy to lose yourself in the cacophonous sounds of grunts and growls above you, at the way each man’s fingers thread into your hair differently. Daemon’s grip is much rougher, more commanding, as he drags you exactly where he wants, pushing and pulling your head along his cock in an exacting rhythm. 

Harwin, on the other hand, is more gentle — his tugs seeming more like suggestions than commands. Unlike the prince, he strokes over your hair gently as you attend to him, letting you set your own pace. Anytime your eyes meet his, he looks at you with awe almost, hairy chest heaving as his hips twitch, holding himself back from fucking your face in the way he wants. 

Daemon has no such qualms, hasn’t the patience to resist tugging at your hair as he presses your mouth lower and lower down his cock, relishing the way you choke and sputter. His violet, half-lidded gaze sends shivers through you each time your eyes meet, the look in his eyes echoing the fierce dragon’s blood flowing in his veins. 

Surprisingly, it’s Harwin that breaks first, tossing back his head with a low groan after some minutes and pulling you off of his cock. 

“What—?” You scarcely get the word out before his lips are on yours once again, tongue licking into your mouth. 

“Need you,” he mumbles simply, glaring as Daemon snickers behind your back. “Please,” he breathes, voice softer this time. 

“You needn’t ask,” Daemon drawls, pressing himself against your side as his hands paw at your breasts, pinching and pulling at your nipples and chuckling at the way you whine, “She’s a whore.” 

You roll your eyes playfully at the remark and grab Harwin’s hand, leading him toward one of the bigger rooms of the brothel. “That may be true, but perhaps I like a man with some decorum, my prince,” you call over your shoulder, chuckling as Daemon follows hot on your heels. 

You lead the men to one of the fancier rooms, one laden with imported ornate rugs and silken lamps that give it a warm red glow, complete with a giant circular daybed with plenty of room for all three of you. After all, if the brothel is empty, why not take advantage of it?

Putting on your very best show, you push at Harwin’s hairy chest until he sits back on the edge of the bed before walking over to him with a sly smirk, hips swaying enticingly. A chuckle leaves your lips when his eyes widen as you climb on his lap, your thighs bracketing his. 

“Is this ok –” His lips are on yours before you can finish the question; the both of you move a bit more desperately now, though his touches are no less attentive as his hands skim over your waist and up your back. 

Suddenly, you’re tugged away from Harwin’s lips with a little gasp as one of Daemon’s hands laces through the hair at the crown of your head, drawing you back until your spine is arched. 

“Forgetting someone?” He teases, lightly wrapping his other hand around your neck in a way that sends pleasant tingles down to your already aching center. You shake your head no, teeth biting into your bottom lip as Harwin’s cock twitches between your legs.

“Never, my prince,” you murmur, smiling into the kiss as Daemon presses his lips against yours. His movements are more urgent than Harwin’s and it soon dissolves into a battle of teeth and tongues; you mewl into his mouth when the hand around your neck slides down your chest and palms eagerly at one of your breasts. 

Though they’re closed, your eyes roll back as Harwin leans forward and begins mouthing at the side of your neck, his wavy hair tickling your shoulder. Soon enough, both men are pawing greedily at your chest, making your head spin – both of their touches are so different: where Daemon is rough, pinching at your nipple until you gasp and whine into his kiss, Harwin is gentle and uses his thumb to tease at the other until he feels you shivering on his lap. 

The knight surprises you once more when his touch skirts down over your stomach before his fingers run through your folds, making you jerk from Daemon’s grasp with a moan. Your cheeks flush slightly at the sight of the little victorious grin on Harwin’s face as he expertly circles your pearl, watching closely at the way his touch makes you squirm and grind down against his hard length. 

“That’s it,” he husks, grunting as your grasp tightens on his shoulders, nails digging into his lightly tanned skin, “Need to warm you up, don’t I?”

Beside you, Daemon scoffs as he stands straight once more, fingers still threaded through your hair. “Please,” he huffs, sliding closer to where you sit on the knight’s lap, until his length is practically brushing against your cheek, “Whores don’t need warming, Strong. You may as well take her.”

Before you have time to so much as register the jab, Harwin slips a thick finger inside you in the same instance that Daemon manhandles his cock into your waiting mouth, muffling your whimpers. Both men growl as they take you, the knight’s finger fucking easily into your wet channel as the prince’s length slides against your tongue once more. 

You can hardly do more than ragdoll in their grasp, mewling while Harwin fingers you open, adding a second digit after a moment and crooking them in a way that makes your hips rut eagerly into his touch while Daemon takes from you as he pleases, fucking into your throat with loud growls and grunts. 

Below you, Harwin groans as he easily presses a third finger into your heat, watching you carefully as he does and smirking when you show no signs of discomfort. “Think you’re ready for me,” he murmurs, chuckling when you nod your head as best as you can. As desperate as you are to be filled properly, you can’t help but let out a little petulant whine as he pulls his fingers from you. 

“Patience,” he grunts, shifting you on his lap enough to reach between your bodies and fist his length, grinning at the way you squirm eagerly as he runs the head through your slick folds. His chest reverberates under your palms when he growls as he finally grabs at your hips and pulls you down steadily over his thick cock, half-lidded eyes staring down at where you both connect, “Fuck, there you go.”

You pull away from Daemon with a loud gasp, sucking in a lungful of air, chest heaving as your walls pulse around the knight, savoring the way his stretches you open. “Gods!” You cry, wriggling in his hold as you grind against him, your hips moving of their own accord. 

Daemon huffs, annoyed, and tries dragging you back onto his cock a few times to no avail, quickly becoming irritated at the way you mindlessly clench your jaw closed each time Harwin’s cock presses against the sensitive spot within you. 

“Poor little whore,” the prince sighs exasperatedly, once again tugging your head back until your eyes meet his, “Too distracted, hm?”

You open your lips to reply, only to gasp dazedly as Harwin thrusts up into you from below, muscular thighs flexing under your own. “Give her a moment,” he grunts, gripping your hips to guide you over his length.

The prince merely tsks, pulling at your hair again until your eyes pop open; a shiver goes through you at the smirk that graces his lips, as if he knows something you don’t. “Tell me,” he starts, carding his long fingers through your hair, “Have you ever taken two cocks at once?”

“N – fuck!” You gasp, eyes rolling back briefly as Harwin ruts up into you quickly, evidently excited by the idea, “N-No.” 

“Hmm,” Daemon hums, smirk only widening, “Then I know just the way to get your attention.”

He moves away from you quickly, letting your head flop back uselessly as he walks swiftly to a small cabinet in the corner of the room where the Madam keeps a small stock of massage oils and lotions. You straighten just in time to watch as he stalks back over to you and Harwin, a vial of oil in hand. “I trust you have at least some experience with this, yes?” He questions, letting out a pleased hum when you nod. 

The two men share a look between them and you mewl as Harwin lays back against the day bed, pulling you with him until you’re lying against his chest, making you gasp as the change in angle presses his length squarely against the most sensitive spot within you. 

“Hold her steady,” Daemon murmurs behind you, uncorking the little bottle of oil.

The knight grunts when you tighten around him and one of his hands abandons its hold on your hip to cup one of your cheeks, his touch surprisingly delicate for a man of his stature. “Excited?” He questions, brown eyes studying your face carefully. 

Any reply dies on your lips in lieu of an eager gasp when you feel the prince’s presence behind you, his hips nearly touching your rear as he slots himself between Harwin’s legs. Still, you nod your head earnestly, sending pearlescent hair cascading over your shoulders to pool on the knight’s chest.

Harwin’s chest rumbles with a satisfied hum, though you’re left gasping at the feel of one of Daemon’s hands deftly parting your arse cheeks, swiftly followed by massage oil being drizzled between them, filling the room with the scent of lavender. When you jolt slightly at the feel of a finger skirting over your entrance, the prince is quick to reprimand you with a sharp slap to the rear, leaving your skin tingling in its wake. 

“You’re going to be good for us?” Harwin questions, drawing your attention back to him as he smooths a thumb over your cheekbone. 

“Y-Yes, yes,” you nod listlessly, breaths staggered as Daemon fingers you open, expertly preparing you. Again, you earn a pleased hum from the man below you. 

The next few moments pass in a blur – your head spins as the prince readies you and Harwin placates you all the while with gentle caresses and kisses, even snaking a hand between your bodies to rub at your aching pearl.

Finally, Daemon seems satisfied and pulls his fingers from you before slotting himself against you, quickly slicking up his cock with more of the oil before pressing the head against your opening, grinning smugly when you press back against him. 

“Fuck, there we go,” he rasps, carefully sliding his length into you until his hips meet your backside. 

A high, whining keen is pulled from your lungs at the stretch, tingles shooting up your spine and making you shudder at the feel of being this filled. You can do little more but gasp, pinned between two muscular bodies, as the men start to move. The feel of it is like none other, a constant push and pull as they thrust in and out of you in tandem. 

“G-Gods, fuck!” You finally cry, managing to suck in a lungful of air as your nails dig into Harwin’s chest. 

The knight beneath you isn’t faring much better than you are, a near constant stream of deep grunts and groans leaving his lips as he feels you tighten on his cock. “By the Seven, you feel divine,” he mumbles, making you cry out as he pulls you to him, strong hands encircling your waist as he mouths at your shoulder, biting at your skin.

Above you, Daemon’s violet eyes remain fixed on your ass, savoring the way it bounces each time his hips smack against it, watching as his length spears into you again and again. “What a good little whore,” he grunts, words short and clipped as he clenches his jaw. A stuttered moan is pulled from you as he grabs at your backside, fingers do doubt leaving bruises in their wake as he gropes you, “Taking us so well.”

Your muscles tense at the praise as your high threatens to overwhelm you, looming in a small pit in your belly that’s growing bigger and bigger with each passing second. Your walls tighten around Harwin again, making him hiss beneath you. 

“Gonna, Gods, I –” you cry, eyes squeezing shut as the knight bullies the sensitive spot within you, pounding against it with each rough thrust, making your words die on your tongue. 

Thankfully, Harwin understands perfectly, balancing on that thin precipice himself – the cacophonous litany of your moans and whines along with the lewd, wet sounds of their cocks plunging into you again and again only serving to push him further to his own end. 

“That’s it,” the knight rasps, grabbing your chin with one hand and directing your attention toward him once more, “Go on, peak, let me feel it.”

His command, along with another hard smack to your rear from Daemon, send you hurtling over the edge with a sharp, loud cry. You lose all sense between them, muscles clenching and relaxing rhythmically as your whole body seems to erupt into flame. 

The gorgeous look on your face, along with the steady pulse of your walls around him, finish Harwin as well. A deep groan, complementary to your own high-pitched whines, is all but punched from his chest as his length twitches within you, painting your walls with his spend. 

As your peak slowly settles, like waves receding at low tide, you’re left gasping, clinging to Harwin as Daemon still thrusts wildly into you, chasing his own high. Desperate to feel you clench around him once more, the prince reaches around, over your hip, and his greedy fingers quickly find your bud. 

“Oh!” You gasp, squirming in the knight’s grasp as the prince’s fingers roughly rub against your pearl, forcibly dragging you right back to the edge you’d just fallen from. 

“Come on,” Daemon grunts, tugging you up by the shoulder until your back presses against his chest, deep, vicious grunts filling your ear, “One more, little whore, fucking do it for me.”

You scramble in his hold, lips parting in a silent cry as your muscles jerk in sharp, uncoordinated movements. Unable to extract yourself from his hold, the overstimulation finally gives way to blinding pleasure once more and you peak with a loud, piercing yelp. 

Daemon grunts behind you, pleased, as your walls all but force a high from him as well. He thrusts into you a few more times, groaning at the feel of your slick coating his fingers and pooling between your bodies. Finally, he lets go, grumbling low words in a language you don’t understand as he fills you. 

The only sounds in the near empty brothel is the sound of staggered pants as the three of you catch your breaths, content to do little more than lie in a heap for a few moments. 

It’s Daemon that moves first, pulling himself from you with a muted grunt before swaggering over to a small vanity, pulling up and tying his trousers as he goes. 

Harwin soothes you with gentle touches as he pulls away, keenly aware of the way you wince at certain movements, overly sensitive now. “Are you okay?” He asks, voice gentler now as he surveys your body, “Nothing hurts?”

You can’t help but chuckle at his concern, so unused to men caring for you once they finish. “I’m fine, I assure you,” your lips quirk into a smile as you soothe his worries, a little sigh leaving your lips as you settle back against the silken sheets that cover the daybed. 

“Here,” Daemon grunts with indifference as he tosses a clean cloth at you, more than familiar with the layout of the place, “To clean yourself.”

You huff softly and roll your eyes playfully before grabbing the small towel and standing to wipe spend and extra oil from your skin, making a mental note to heat water for a proper bath as soon as the men leave. 

It’s then that it occurs to you that they may not let you stay, what if even this wasn’t enough to secure your freedom, to get them to overlook your transgressions? 

“So,” you start, discarding the cloth in a laundry basket by the vanity before turning and facing the men, surprised to find Harwin’s eyes already on you, “Forgive and forget, yes? The debt has been paid, etcetera?”

They share a look as they dress themselves, Daemon loosely pulling on his armor, opting to tuck most of it beneath an arm, though Harwin takes the time to fasten his properly. 

“Oh, I think you’ve more than convinced us to spare you, little minx,” the prince drawls, eyes roving over your still nude form as he approaches you and takes your chin between two long fingers, “As for your debt, well…”

You grin as he trails off, two pairs of purple eyes sliding over to Harwin. 

“There’s still the interest to consider,” he murmurs with a little chuckle, dark eyes sparkling with mirth.

thank you for taking the time to read! hope you enjoyed! :)

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen x reader #harwin strong #harwin strong smut #harwin strong x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon x reader #hotd #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #hotd x reader #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #smut #my writing

[siriusleee]

LIKE BLOOD ON IRON

Historical Executioner AU

Summary: The executioner has always been an enigma to you - drawing you in. His sword drawing a line in the dirt as he made his way to the village center, and leaving back to his cottage on the outskirts of town. However, your curiosity can't stop the future your family has planned for you.

Warnings: mentions of blood, family dynamics, semi-forced marriage mention, implied age gap, future smut, future blood and gore.

Word Count: 6k

A/N: This is a three part series that I intend to be pretty long - at least 20,000 words. If you want to be added to the tag list, make sure you comment below. This is a historical fantasy, however, it is not magical. spotify playlist part two

His sword carves a gorge in the dirt, dust swirling in the sunlight left behind him. The sun threatens to fall before he makes it to the center of the village, but it doesn't dare fall before he gets the chance to finish his day's work. 

You watch him from the window of your family's house, lucky enough to be close enough to the center that you can see him coming for ages. Your fingers dig into the windowsill; the wind - salty from the nearby bay- blows gently through, rattling the windows you threw open the moment your sister whispered that he was coming down the road. There are only moments before Mother will storm upstairs, chastising you for trying to watch what's going down below.

"It's not appropriate for a girl your age to see this," she'll say for the hundredth time, slamming the windows shut. The wavy glass will distort his features, and leave you nothing but a hint at his form, but even then Mother won't let you continue looking. She'll pull you downstairs into the kitchen with your two sisters and set you all to work. 

"Your father and uncle will be hungry when they get home; you all pitch in," she'll say, pantomiming joy when just outside a man will lose his head - your father and uncle observing from the crowd. Father will come home grim, and not speak over the dinner that you and your sisters cooked, and will go to bed silent.

In the morning when you go to the market for whatever Mother needs for the day, blood will have stained the stones paving the center of the village. And the executioner will be back in his small cottage situated far away from everyone in town, not to be seen until he was needed again.

But this time, Mother takes longer. You hear her speaking sharply to your youngest sister, about how she needs to be more aware of her surroundings and stop sloshing all that damned water all over the place. Today you get the chance to see him come closer.

He's large and cloaked - you know from the village boys whispering that he has a mask on to cover his face. 

"It's covered in ashes - smeared to look like a skull."

"It's to remind those on his chopping block that he is Death."

No one accompanies him on his journey to the dias that all the buildings spiral away from; every person that will be there is already waiting for him to arrive, breath held in their throats as they hear his approaching footsteps. You watch as each house he passes draws its shutters shut to him as if they could be next if they looked at him. The sea rages down past the docks, far enough away to be just a faint chorus as he approaches your house. 

The tilt of his shoulders enamors you - he's enormous, but walks with a grace you can only wish to have. You don't need to be near him to know that the only sounds are the swish of his cloak against the ground, and the sword drawing against the ground.

You startle when Mother grasps your shoulder, letting out a gasping noise, but you don't turn away from the window. As if he could hear you, the executioner's head snaps towards you. You see just a hint of the white ash smeared across his mask before you're pulled inside. Mother throws you into the room with enough strength to cause you to hit the wall behind you, rattling the porcelain that sits on a nearby shelf. She slams the window hard enough that the glass rattles before slamming the storm shutters and latching them.

"What are you doing?" Mother's voice is venomous as she rounds on you, eyes burning. "You are going to humiliate this family acting the way you do."

"I'm sorry Mother," you appease, pulling at the wrinkles in your skirt and avoiding her eyes. "I was just curious."

"Your job isn't to be curious."

"Yes, Mother."

"How would your suitors think about you hanging out the window to watch something so grim?" 

You close your eyes to hide the sudden anger behind them; your head stays down and you don't answer. Anything you say won't be good enough for her. It's the same every time there's an execution. 

"Come - let's prepare dinner."

You follow, slowly. Inside the kitchen it's warm, and smells of honey and meat. Your mother gestures to a lump of dough that needs kneading and you roll your sleeves up. Your sisters, still eager to get a nice word out of Mother, patter around, stirring and checking on the baking. You know you were given the dough because everything else in the kitchen fails you.

Mother had been attempting to get you some proficiency in the kitchen, giving it her damnedest, curses flying out of her whenever you burnt something. For the past two years, she tried to no avail.

"At least you're a smart girl," she'd say with a sign. "And you can do books - you'll just have to hire someone who can cook."

For three years, your father and mother had been trying to find someone for you to marry.

"Seventeen is when I met your mother, and I courted her for three years to finally get her yes. And you're her elder by three."

The story sickened you. 

You'd had some luck that not many wanted to court you - it wasn't unknown in the village that you argued with your mother and father. Everyone whispered behind your back about the time you tried to smuggle yourself on one of your father's cargo ships, bound for somewhere far away and exotic. They whispered about how you fought the sailor that found you tooth and nail, leaving him a scar down the side of his face as he dragged you to the deck. No one wanted a wife that wouldn't listen. 

But still, some had come knocking.

Nice young men who would wait the years it took you to be ready to marry if you would just say yes. Nice young men who winked at your younger sisters across the dining table, who pressed flowers into Mother's hands, who clapped Father on the back at the end of the night.

Nice, young, boring men who wanted a boring wife to oversee someone else doing the cooking. 

Nice young men who would want their wives on hands and knees cleaning during the day, tongue out at night.

Nice young men you detested. 

You'd rejected each one that came knocking - fits that included screaming loud enough that the neighbors could hear, and a few shattered glasses. Once Mother locked you in your room and threatened to send you to a nunnery if you didn't stop screeching. But your father had called on them, spinning a web that you'd been intrigued by them and to come back for dinner again in a few weeks. 

You'd been threatened with the nunnery and the whip if you misbehaved the next time they came back, so you sat there, unspeaking while the men spoke only to Mother and Father. 

You're broken out of your reverie by your youngest sister, Lily. She presses against your side, tugging your apron to pull you down so that she can whisper in your ear.

"Mother is going to check on you tonight."

You give just a curt nod, eyes trained on Mother and your oldest sister, Maggie. They have their backs turned to you and Lily. Lily who has always hidden your secrets and you have hidden hers. Lily who knows you sneak out at night, climbing carefully out of your window onto the trellis and down where the horse is stabled. Lily who knows you spend all night swimming in the dark ocean, imagining the merfolk and monsters that linger there. 

You press a quick kiss to her temple, a thank you for the heads up, as you begin shaping the dough into two loaves of bread. 

The front door opens and the sound of your father's boots on the wood breaks through the kitchen. Mother wipes her hands on her apron, flour falling onto the dark blue skirt below, and leaves to say hello. Maggie follows closely behind, leaving you and Lily behind to finish dinner. Lily does most of the work, directing you on what to do to keep everything from burning. 

When everything is finished, the two of you cart it to the dining table where Maggie straightens the plates to perfection. You hear the gentle hum of Mother and Father talking, no doubt about your antics in the window. There's an extra plate at the table.

"Who is this for?" You ask Maggie, skewing one of the spoons. 

"Edward. And don't mess everything up." She reaches across to straighten the spoon. 

Edward the apprentice tailor, her two-year suitor who no doubt will agree to marry before the end of the year. You feel relieved that tonight you will be ignored, you and Lily can eat at the end of the table in peace, whispering jokes to each other. 

You leave to wash up in your room, scrubbing at the black dirt that you collected from the windowsill. You wonder if the executioner has made it home; if he drags his sword behind him or does he sheath it. Does it drip blood as he retraces his path?

Lily waits for you at the top of the stairs, and you lace your fingers together as you make your way down the stairs and into the dining hall. You pull faces at each other across the table, and stifle giggles into your napkins - ignoring the dirty looks Maggie sends to the two of you down the table. 

Dinner is tortuously slow - when it's over and you're clearing off the table you can see Edward and Maggie in the hallway, pressed against each other in a way that would make Mother blush if she were to see it. You elbow Lily and point toward them, sticking your tongue out and pretending to puke. She laughs loud enough to catch Maggie's attention and the two of you scurry out of her line of sight. 

After getting ready for bed, you brush out Lily's hair, perched on the bed you share. Her hair shines midnight beneath the brush, long and thick. The most gorgeous in the family.

"Can you braid it in two tonight?" She asks, trying to turn and look at you, but you turn her head forcefully back to the front.

"If you stay still I can. Keep wiggling little mouse, and you're going to have crooked braids."

Her hair slips heavily between your fingers as you cross one strand over another. You're wrapping a tie around the bottom of the first braid when she speaks again, this time in a whisper.

"Do you think being married would be terrible?"

You concentrate on the tie, measuring out each word before saying it.

"Why do you ask, my little mouse?"

"It's just - Maggie seems so eager to marry, and you're the opposite. Mother and Father seem happy."

"Well, Maggie and I are different people. Maggie is wonderful at this house stuff, and she wants that life. I want to explore, to see more. I want to fall in love with someone that isn't a pick of Father - someone…" You trail off, unsure of what you're trying to say. "Anyway, marriage isn't terrible for everyone. And if your marriage was, I would come and rescue you myself. Even if it means killing your husband. I'd sweep you out of that house, and back with me."

Lily giggles at the suggestion.

"You would end up under the executioner's sword then."

Inside, something twists at the idea of lying down, looking up at the broad man staring down at you.

"He doesn't scare me," you tell her, finishing the second braid. "Nothing scares me."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing."

The two of you settle into bed, Lily tucking herself into your side. Just as she said, in the middle of the night, Mother comes in, candlelight casting long shadows across the room. You keep still, pretending to sleep until she disappears. It's too risky to leave tonight, so you let Lily's warmth and soft snoring lull you to sleep. 

***

The next night, you press your ear to your bedroom door. You can hear Father snoring faintly down the hall; the moon, directly overhead, tells you it's late enough to slip out. You press a kiss on Lily's forehead and slide your legs out of the window, skirts bunched up to keep from getting caught.

The trellis groans under your weight, but you're sure it won't break underneath you. You climb down, familiar with where to put your hands, where the spiders like to build their webs, and the weak spots - you drop the last few feet down to the ground. The horse nickers softly from her spot in the small stall she's in. The village is quiet, the only sound the whisper of the sea. 

You keep to the darkest spots, the shadows even the night fears as you sneak through town. It's too hot for a cloak, but you still keep yours over your head, just in case anyone other than the spiders and bats is awake to see you. The closer you get to the sand, the faster you walk, pausing just once for a drunken sailor to slip past you without noticing you are hidden just feet away from him.

The port is small - bringing in just one or two ships - nearly all of them laden down with wool your father sells. But this time of year there is only one ship, here to pick up sailors that were on leave. It bobs gently across the water in the small port, the flicker of a candle seen sporadically. From this distance, any soldiers on it look like dolls in the distance. The air is cooler rolling off of the ocean, and the salt in the air sticks to your skin. Your bare feet hit the sand and you race to a spot hidden in a cove that separates the village from the ocean - a hidden spot used by couples in the town when they wanted to get away. But at night it was always empty.

Your toes dip in the water, and the bottom of your cloak gets soaked each time a fresh wave breaks on the sand. The water in the distance is still, reflecting the moon and stars. You let your cloak slip off of your shoulders, beneath you'd laced a dress up loosely, enough that if you were caught, you could feign innocence. It comes undone and pools at your feet. Your skin erupts in gooseflesh when the ocean air rolls over it - your chemise not thick enough to block out the wind.

You wade to your hips- the water is warm and still. Beneath your feet the sand shifts, shells sharp against your skin. You turn, making sure that you're still hidden from anyone who may be walking to the port at night, and when you're sure no one is there looking at you, you dive.

Your eyes burn in the darkness, moonlight filtering down just enough so that you can see your hand in front of your face. You push farther out into the bay, not resurfacing until your lungs burn from lack of air. Breaking the surface, everything is blurry, you fall back so that you're floating on your back until your eyes readjust and the stars come back in sharp focus. You float there, watching the subtle shift.

And all at once you feel it: someone's eyes on you. You flounder until you can get your feet underneath you, eyes straining to see the shore - you're farther out than you thought you were, toes barely able to scrape the sand below. You can see your dress and cloak, still pooled on the shore, but there's no sign of anyone nearby. Slowly, worryingly, you push towards the shore, until it's back to your hips. Your eyes never leave the shore, looking for someone there.

That's when one of the shadows ripples forward. You freeze your heart stuttering in your chest as you watch someone walk towards you - you can't think of what to do. Even if you screamed, no one would be able to hear you. You realize for the first time how foolish the venture is.

When the moonlight fully covers the figure, they stop feet from your clothes. Your hands clamp across your chest, the thin white fabric covering you completely transparent now that it's wet. Neither of you moves, and you realize that if you don't, they probably never will.

Hands still clamped across your chest, you walk to the shore. With each step it becomes clear just how massive the person on shore is - it has to be a man, you've never seen a woman that tall, that broad. You're in ankle-deep water when you catch just a glimpse at them beneath the hood of their cloak: white ash, reflecting in the moonlight.

Your panic increases tenfold, but you think if you move too fast, he'll move faster. Snatch you up. So as if he were a dangerous animal, you reach down and grab your dress from the ground, leaving it over your arm as you pull your cloak around yourself. Your eyes never leave him. He waits until you're completely covered before he turns to look at you - just the barest hint of flesh around his eyes. 

"Don't you think it's dangerous to be out here alone?" His voice is gravel and honey, deeper than you'd expect. You wonder if it's that way because he doesn't get to speak often.

"It depends on who's out here," your voice wavers, but doesn't crack. He seems to like that answer, letting out a short 'hmm'. 

"There's plenty of monsters out here in the darkness." He speaks but still doesn't step toward you. You tighten your cloak around you, wishing for once to be back in bed with Lily. 

"The merfolk and the selkies are the only things I worry about." You take small steps backward as you speak, feet shuffling over the sand.

"I've seen worse lurking in the near forest," he says, suddenly stepping towards you. You trip over your own feet, but before you can crash into the sand, his hand is around your elbow, pulling you up roughly. You don't mean to, but you let out a small squeak at his touch and recoil away; he drops your arm as if it burns him.

"You should go home," he says, nodding his head back towards the village. "It's too late for you to be out."

"I think you and my father would agree on that matter."

You can't tell if it's a trick of the light, but you see the corner of his eye crinkle for just a moment. 

"I'll walk you back up, then you are on your own to get home safely."

He walks ahead of you as he talks as if he expects you just to follow without saying anything. And you do, terror and intrigue mixing inside of you. His scent wafts to you in the wind, woodsmoke, and metal, and something sweet- like rotted wood. It flashes through you, just a second long - to bury your face in his cloak and take a deep breath. Your curiosity is raging inside of you, mingling with the apprehension of being near him - the same man Mother refuses to let you even look at through the window.

You slip on the sand and rocks behind him, his boots leaving footprints that dwarf yours. It takes just moments, but the two of you emerge out of the hidden crag and onto the soft grass that overlooks the ocean. 

You're panting, your heart still beating erratically in fear of him, the executioner, here at night on a dark roadside, and no one to notice the two of you. He pauses, just long enough to throw a look over his shoulder at you - you recognize his silent instructions to hurry home. You take two small sideways steps, eyes trained on him as he walks in the opposite direction, to the small cottage situated between the forest and the sea and far away from where he found you. His exile - where he never ventures out unless called. As soon as he's far enough away, you turn and run. 

When you make it back to your trellis you're out of breath, a stitch cutting your side open. You ready yourself to climb up, trying to catch your breath and remember his scent and the way he towered over you.

You wonder if he'd been there with you before, hidden in the shadows. 

***

"What are you doing? Are you senseless?" Maggie's voice cuts through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. Your fingers slip over the apples in your hand as she grabs your wrist, pulling you back towards her.

"You're supposed to stay with me and Lily; not wander off to do god knows what?" 

Her face is pinched, angry - you jerk your wrist out of her touch. 

"I'm sorry Maggie, I just got busy looking at the produce."

She gives you a look that says she knows you're lying, but you fall in step behind her anyway. You had been lost in thoughts of the executioner, of how his eyes shone in the moonlight and his smell. Her hair, lighter than yours and Lily's, is pinned up elaborately; she spent two hours in the mirror this morning doing it. She didn't have to say it, but you know she hopes to run into someone who will run back to Edward and tell him about how gorgeous his future betrothed was today in the market. 

Lily slips her hand into yours, and you two trail behind Maggie - ducklings behind their mother duck. Lily had whispered to you this morning between bites of breakfast that Mother had set Maggie to watch you to make sure you didn't slip off. She couldn't catch you out at night, but she knew you were disappearing somewhere. 

She'd been creeping into the room for the past two weeks, only to find you pretending to sleep beside Lily. You'd close your eyes, and bury your face into the pillow, trying to sleep, but instead filled with thoughts of the executioner. Wondering if he was out there standing in the same spot, the waves soaking the bottom of his cloak, the ash on his mask shining in the moonlight. Wondering if he was thinking about you.

"I'm going to take Lily to the butcher; it's stupid for all three of us to go to the same place," you say, winking down at Lily. Maggie stops and sighs, heavy enough that you can see her shoulders heave. 

"Mother said for us all to go together."

"What trouble can I get into with Lily?"

You elbow Lily just before Maggie turns to level a suspicious look at the both of you. Lily speaks up for the two of you, trying to keep her face serious.

"I can keep an eye on her - no one will get into any trouble when I'm around."

Maggie rolls her eyes at the two of you, you can see her wearing down.

"Besides if we go to the butcher, then that means you can take the long way home. And pass the tailor's shop."

That gets her - Edward will be there, working with his father, and if she doesn't have to cart you and Lily around, the two of them can meet in the alley. 

"Fine. But meet me at the end of the street and don't tell Mother."

"I would never think of it."

You and Lily watch her disappear into the market vendors before the two of you turn in the opposite direction. 

"What do you want to do?" You ask, nudging Lily with your shoulder. "We have at least an hour of freedom."

"Let's go by the bakery; I want something sweet."

"Something sweet? You are the best baker in the house, all you do is eat sweet food."

The wind blows your skirts around as the two of you walk across the village, dodging loose stones and puddles. You're trying to jump from one stone to the other when Lily grabs your arm.

"Look!"

Thirty feet away from the two of you, in the middle of the street, the executioner stands. People shove themselves onto the sides of the buildings, straining to get away from him. He doesn't seem to pay anyone any mind as he walks. Lily pulls on your arm, trying to pull you to the side, away from him. But you're stuck fast to the ground; even from this distance, you can see him looking at you as he walks.

Lily whines your name, pulling harder on your arm. He gets closer, close enough that you can almost make out the wrinkles beside his eyes. His eyes catch yours - you can tell recognition sparks in them. You want to say something to him, but you know if you do, it will get back to your Mother. So you let Lily pull you away from him, closer to one of the buildings, but your eyes never leave him. 

He passes by, nearly silent for such a large man, black boots shining in the sunlight. 

"Why is he out?" Lily hisses in your ear as he passes. You pull your attention from his broad back to her.

"I'm sure he also has errands to run."

"He's so scary."

You watch as he disappears around the corner - wondering what he thought about you, about what he'd say if you stopped and spoke to him, say hello here in public. The thoughts stick with you as you and Lily duck into the bakery. You're stuck thinking about it as she bribes the young boy behind the counter to give her two sweet rolls for free, promising that she'll pay him back next time. The two of you eat them as you walk to the butcher's, honey coating your fingertips.

You watch the butcher wrap meat in brown paper, but your mind is on the executioner: on how he refused to look at you until you were dressed, how he walked you back to the edge of the village. It takes just a short walk to make it back home, Maggie waiting for you at the end of the street so that you can all walk in together. You notice the way one of the pins in her hair is gone, a single lock of hair falling.

Inside it's a commotion - the three of you come through the door to your Mother rushing past with an armful of clothes. 

"You all took your damn good time! Hurry up and go get clean for dinner. We're going to have guests tonight."

You press yourself against the wall as one of the hired girls hustles past, a tablecloth in her hand.

"Who's coming? What is this?" You inquire, as your mother shoves a dress into your arms. You try to peer at her over the royal blue material.

"Your uncle is coming to dinner, and so is Jonathan." Your heart sinks. Jonathan. A suitor hand-picked by Father for you. You've barely digested the information before your mother whirls on you, hair in disarray and fire in her eyes.

"And you will not act like a brat tonight. You are twenty years old - nearly twenty-one. Your sister will be getting married this year and I intend to announce your wedding shortly after. You will dress like a lady and act like one or so help me, I will send you to the nunnery this time. 

And you," she whirls to Lily, her chest heaving. Lily shrinks half behind you, "will behave also young lady. You and your sister will not make a fool of me tonight. Do you understand?"

The two of you nod in unison together, too scared to say anything else. Mother waves the two of you upstairs - you trip over the dress in your arms, slamming your shin into one of the stairs. You emerge at the top, cursing under your breath.

The two of you rush to your room - Lily's dress laid across the bed; you shake the one Mother shoved in your hands out, nose wrinkled. It's one of Maggie's old ones: dark blue and heavy, elaborate embroidery across the bottom. 

"I don't know how she expects me to fit into this," you mutter, throwing it across the bed. Maggie, taller than you by an entire head and more willowy, had never been able to share dresses with you.

"What do you think Uncle is coming for?" Lily asks, emerging from the neck of her dress, turning around in a silent request for you to lace her up.

"Probably to ask Father for money for another stupid business prospect, just like the last time."

You lace her dress, loosely.

"Can you tighten it up?"

"Why do you need your dress tighter? You're thirteen."

"The other girls wear theirs tighter."

Lily pouts at you, and you sigh at her.

"Come here; I'm only doing it a little tighter. When you lace mine, make sure it's loose, if I can even get it on. I'll braid your hair for you."

You re-lace her, just incrementally tighter, and redo the braids you did for her that morning, pinning them up in the back. From below, Mother is yelling to hurry up! You get dressed in a hurry, and to your surprise, the dress slips over you, but you know lacing it up will be difficult.

When your mother comes up the stairs ten minutes later, you have your hands braced against the end of the bed; Lily is pulling with all her might to try to get the back to close.

"Go wash your face, Lily," she says, brushing her away and taking the strings herself.

You know what's coming next; you breathe in, and she jerks the laces tight - you can feel the boning squeeze your ribs.

"Does it have to be this dress?" You ask as your mother pulls the strings again. You press your hands to your stomach, trying to breathe better as Mother ties the back, tucking the strings so they can't be seen.

"Jonathan likes the color blue."

"And that means I have to be packed into this like a sausage?"

Mother sighs, pushing on your shoulders so that you sit on the end of the bed. Her hands are soft in your hair as she pulls it down, and twists it back up, pinning it into place.

"You could do much worse than Jonathan. At this point, he's the only man that will have you."

"Have me? Like I'm a cow."

She sticks another pin in your hair, nearly stabbing your scalp.

"No. Like you're a woman; you can't do everything in this life alone. Besides," she tucks the last piece of hair in, "he travels. You could go with him."

Your hands smooth down the skirt of the dress, picking at a loose thread. 

"I want to travel where I want to go, not where someone is going to show me off."

Your mother's fingers are soft on your shoulders as she turns you so she can look at you.

"We don't always get what we want in life. Sometimes we just have to take what we're given. Come on. Your uncle is waiting downstairs to say hello."

She holds your hand down the stairs; at the bottom, your Uncle Henry stands - taller than your father and thinner but not nearly as imposing. He kisses you on each cheek before moving to Mother. You leave them to talk and take your place at the dining table. It's empty except for the plates already sat down. In the kitchen, you can hear the hired girl banging around. The sound grates at your nerves, and the dress itches at your back where you can't reach.

There's a knock at the door - it sounds like a funeral cannon going off. You try rearranging your face into a smile and push yourself up from your chair. You're sure you look more like you have an upset stomach. In the hallway everyone explodes into a chorus of greetings. A moment later, Jonathan walks into the dining room.

If you're being honest, he's not the worst pick that your mother and father could have chosen. He's never been rude or forward with you, and he's not horrible looking, but as he reaches you and takes your hand, all you can think about is how small they must be compared to the executioner's hands.

"Hello, Jonathan." You try to smile at him as he kisses your hand. 

"Hello, darling."

He turns just in time to miss the grimace on your face - turning to shake your father's hand when your father walks in behind him. You take your seat, waving at Lily to come sit down beside you quickly. 

Dinner passes slowly; you're barely able to eat anything from the rolling in your stomach and the way the dress presses into you. The conversation is flowery and fake - Uncle Henry laughing too loudly, Jonathan smiling to politely across the table. It sets you on edge; Lily can see it because she reaches under the table to pat your knee.

It comes to a boiling point when Uncle Henry begins to describe his new business of shipping items.

"We've got a new ship; smaller and faster than the ones usually used. It can't hold as much cargo, but it can sail routes in half the time. With just two of them we can double how much cargo we're moving out of ports."

Your mother is leaning into the conversation, no doubt to know what she's going to tell Father no to later, Father is enraptured by your uncles conversation, and Jonathan leans across the table, listening in.

"You know," Jonathan says, cutting into the conversation, "I think you'd have more success using them to ferry people. Imagine how much people would pay to get where they're going faster."

Uncle Henry points at him across the table, a grin spreading over his face.

"The boy understands."

"Of course he does," Father says, pausing to take a drink, "he's already got plans to take my daughter on a cross-oceanic trip after the wedding."

Your fingers falter on your glass, it nearly spills, red drops spattering across the table like blood.

"Excuse me?"

Everyone turns to look at you, and you get the feeling that there's a joke you haven't been let in on.

"Well," Father says, shifting awkwardly in his seat. Mother cuts her eyes at him, a look you don't miss. "We were going to discuss this later."

"Discuss what?" You ask, voice rising. "Because it seems as if the decision has been made for me."

Jonathan's gaze swivels between you and your father; you bunch the tablecloth in your hands.

"Calm down dear," Mother says, rising slightly from her seat, "we will talk about this later."

"No!" You yell, slamming your hands to the table and pushing yourself up. "We won't. Because I know how the conversation will go. I will be forced to agree. This is an ambush!"

Your cup spills, staining the table red. Everyone in the room seems to hold a collective breath. Jonathan moves to stand; you turn, knocking your chair over. Across the table, Maggie gives you a look of contempt - it's enough to push you toward the door. 

Everyone calls your name; you can hear your uncle laughing behind you. Someone's hand grabs at your wrist, but you jerk yourself away without looking to see who it is. Outside it's dark; windows are lit up with candle light and fires flickering. In the distance lightning strikes, grey clouds rolling towards you. 

You run, slipping on the grass, towards the cove. You scrape your hands, cutting one of them on a sharp rock as you scramble down. You ignore the sting, and the sound of fabric tearing. You land hard on the sand, scrambling to pull yourself upright. 

Across the cove, you see a flicker of white and a shadow ripple.

#my fics #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost cod x reader #ghost #simon riley x you #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #prompts #mw2 #ghost mw2 #cod ghost

[moonydustx]

Lighting up

Sanji x F! Reader

Warnings: pure and explicit smut, kind of soft (and I mean super soft) Sanji dom, use of candles in sex. Sort of a pre-established relationship. Porn with no plot.

A/N: just a dirty idea that popped into my head, this is it.

Minors do not interact!

requests open | masterlist and rules

Voices echoed outside Sunny, some singing and others just talking. The archipelago where you had docked was going through a huge winter festival week. Crowded bars, markets until late at night, children playing in the street.

The thin heels you wore didn't hinder you from climbing back onto the ship. Your footsteps could be heard from outside, to the delight of a certain cook.

"What was your excuse this time?" his voice reached you as soon as you crossed the kitchen door.

The environment was almost completely dark, except for the lights coming from outside. That night, everyone had decided to go out, explore the island and Sanji would stay at the Sunny. Except once again, you had other plans in mind.

"I said I had a bad headache, I needed to sleep." you approached him, leaning against the counter and watching him strike a match. "I didn't want to be disturbed."

"That's a shame, mon couer."

Instead of lighting the cigarette stuck in his lips, Sanji brought the flame of the match to a small candle that caught your attention. It was different and much better smelling than anything else there. Only after that did he bend down and pick up the candle to light the cigarette.

"I believe I have other plans for both of us." your body was trapped between him and the counter, Sanji delicately left the smoke just above your face.

Already knowing your tastes, he took the cigarette from his lips and offered it to you. The smoke that invaded your lungs couldn't compare to the intoxicating feeling of having his body so close to yours after long days. As soon as the smoke left your lips, Sanji slipped his fingers covered by the black glove he was wearing under them. The same hand went down to your waist, turning your back towards him.

"You look so beautiful in that." He lifted the hem of your dress allowing him to feel the flesh of your ass that was showing. "That idiot mosshead couldn't take his eyes off." the grumble came out almost as a growl. "I hate that you keep paying attention to him."

"He is a friend." the sentence disappeared from your lips when you felt him press two fingers on top of the fabric of your panties.

Instead of answering you, he just leaned over and blew out the candle next to you, leaving a small puddle of wax accumulated. When you resumed your original posture, the cook took advantage and unzipped the dress you were wearing.

"He doesn't look at you as a friend." he grumbled, letting the fabric pool around your feet.

"And what's the problem? I don't see myself complaining about your flirting with Nami."

"You know they're different things." he saw you facing him. "Besides, she's not the one here now, my dear."

"I could say the same about Zoro." the provocative tone in your voice did not go unnoticed by him. "He's just a great friend."

"I should put that mouth of yours to good use." he grunted, placing you on the counter and fitting himself between your legs. "But like I said, I have other plans."

His lips fused with yours in a single movement. His tongue explored every corner of your mouth, just as the cook's agile hands pulled you closer to him. You couldn't describe exactly what you felt longing, horny, love.

The taste of the cigarette and the small dose of whiskey you had taken before tangled in the small space they occupied and you could feel your intimacy wet the counter below you.

"I missed you." Sanji murmured between kisses. "I want to feel you."

"Please." you asked and grumbled as soon as you saw him walk away.

His hands, still covered in gloves, slid down your torso and stopped at your breasts. They slid smoothly over the soft skin that was extremely contrary to his gloves. His fingers wrapped around both nipples, pinching them, making you gasp. He knew the right buttons to push. Sanji repeated the gesture a few times, leaving the skin sensitive and the nipples hardened.

"Do not be so mean." You asked, feeling his hands slide around your waist. He tied one of the gloves on his hand and threw it away, while the other hand he brought to your mouth, watching you bite and tag finger by finger.

"Today I want to try something new." he warned, taking the small pot with the candle.

First he dropped a few drops on your shoulders. The first drop that touched your skin made you twitch and only then did you realize that the wax wasn't that hot and that in fact it didn't even seem like any wax.

"It's just oil and some aphrodisiacs." As if reading your thoughts, he answered you.

As soon as his hands touched your shoulders you understood what he meant by an aphrodisiac. With each tighter squeeze he gave, the oil seemed to heat up under your body, making you grunt. He picked up the candle jar again and as soon as he did, you rested your arms behind your body, offering him your breasts.

"Good girl." He dropped a few drops near each nipple and watched them run down to the most hardened point of your breast.

Only the heat of the wax itself made you moan and seek some contact against the flat counter, earning a frustrated groan from you. You threatened to take your hand to where your body was begging, but Sanji immediately captured it and placed it back behind your body.

"Let me have my time with you, love." his fingers slid over one of your nipples, pressing and tracing circles and soon his lips found the other neglected part of attention.

Suddenly the weight of your body seemed too much for you. Your head fell back while your body seemed to offer your breasts even more to Sanji. He knew the value of a good dish and would never waste what was being offered to him. His lips tugged on your nipple while the other was trapped between two fingers, making you beg for some more action or you would cum just from that.

The sound his lips made as they released your skin was almost sinful. His lips were red and yours were almost purple from trying to contain the noises. His hands slid down your thigh and lifted one at a time, leaving you open on the counter in front of him.

"Sanji I know what you intend to do." you warned him, seeing him smile at the realization. "Babe, it's going to be a lot."

"Don't worry. If it's too much, just say our code" he started kissing the inside of your thighs, separating them even further and catching a glimpse of your wet pussy. A small damp line connecting you to the table. "Fuck love, so beautiful."

Ignoring the first idea that crossed his mind, Sanji just dived towards your pussy. Without hesitation, his tongue began to collect all the honey accumulated there while two of his fingers made a point of opening your lips, leaving you even more exposed to him.

"You're so delicious, I could taste it for hours." He walked away even if he didn't want to. He took the candle again and approached your intimacy. "Ready?"

"Please."

The first drops hit your mound, causing chills. As you felt the drops dripping down your body involuntarily sought more contact. Just like he had done when he sucked you, Sanji used two fingers to leave you even more exposed to him.

The first drop that hit your clit elicited a scream that had probably been heard from outside the ship. Placing the pot aside, Sanji's fingers soon found your pearl. Slowly he slid circles around your clit while he watched your every reaction carefully.

When your body started to roll, trying to intensify the turns even more, it was when Sanji found a limit. The fingers went down to the entrance, penetrating just one while the other hand, which was previously resting on your thigh, took its place on your spot, moving even faster.

"Love Please." you asked desperately for something you didn't even know how to put into words.

"You have to be specific, amour. What do you want?" the provocative tone in his voice was clear and at that moment Sanji could already feel his pants painfully tight against his dick. "Let me help you. Do you want one more?" He penetrated the second finger and began to thrust quickly as his fingers began to circle your clitoris, leaving you just enough room to moan even louder.

Heat was starting to pool in your belly when his hands moved away, leaving you contracting against nothing.

"Sanji!" a sob escaped your lips. "Why did you stop?"

"I have a better place for you to cum." he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. His dick pressed against the fabric of his underwear.

Still feeling your legs shaking, you got down from the counter and let your hands slide over Sanji, ripping off his jacket and throwing it somewhere in the corner of the kitchen. You finished unzipping his pants and removed the cloth from there along with his underwear, freeing his cock and reached for the candle and you dripped two small drops onto the length of it. Your hands ran down the entire length and went up, caressing the reddened tip.

"Is this your revenge my love?" before you even answered him, you felt Sanji take your hands away and turn your back to him.

His hands, which were usually delicate, roughly placed one of your legs and pushed your chest against the flat environment. The contrast between the hotness of your nipples and the ice-cold surface made you even wetter, as if that were possible.

"You look so hot like this. This beautiful pussy..." his fingers entered again in a much slower and faster way.

I need you inside Ji, please, I'll do whatever you want."

"No need sweetheart. You'll never have to beg for it." Without hesitation, he thrust into you at once, moaning in unison with you and placing his hands on your waist.

There was no slowness this time, nor patience either. The heat of your pussy next to the used candle made your intimacy burn even more. Sanji moved his hands away from your waist just so he could hold both of your hands behind your back while you asked for more.

Feeling that you could take even more, his hands let go of you and one of them separated your buttocks. Peripherally, you saw him dip two fingers into the candle jar and you only understood what was happening when a brutal moan escaped your lips. The wax - which had completely converted to oil - slid down your other hole. With his smeared fingers Sanji allowed himself to tease the entrance to your asshole.

"Oh God, Sanji please, just please."

"Do you really need this so much?" he only put one of his fingers halfway in. A back and forth movement that tried in vain to follow the thrusts into your pussy. "You're squeezing me so good. Just cum for me baby, I know you want it, let me feel you."

His words combined with the feeling of being filled and the heat caused by the oil on your body took you to a peak you had never reached, you could feel some liquid gushing out of you. Your vision blurred as you felt Sanji squeeze you even tighter and fill you with his cum.

His lips began to trace wet kisses on your back while his hand reached your intimacy again.

"Pepper." you said in a breathy voice, barely audible but Sanji managed to get the message. He immediately came out of you and moved away a little, just taking his hand to your hair and brushing it out of your eyes.

"Are you okay my love? Did I hurt you?" His worried voice almost broke your heart and the best response you found was to open a wide smile. "Was that a bit much?"

"Yes. And a little too hot." you mumbled.

With the delicacy you only knew from Sanji, he took your leg off the counter and placed you on your feet, turning towards him. Already suspicious that your strength was gone, he kept his arms around your body, supporting you.

"My goddess, my princess, you did so well." He placed a small kiss on your lips, almost imperceptible. "How about a shower and then I can prepare something for us?"

"Sounds perfect to me. I just don't know how far I can walk to the bathroom."

Without answering you with words, Sanji just picked you up and walked leisurely to the bathroom. Some bath salts, ice cold water and he knew you would be comfortable while he got you water to drink.

Taking advantage of the trip to the kitchen, he recognized the discarded clothes and the used candle, hiding them in his things. When he returned to the kitchen and finally got his water, he found the tuft of green hair that provoked him so much.

"Where's dagger?" He called you by your nickname, arousing some jealousy in Sanji. "I heard she wasn't feeling well."

"Don't worry mosshead, I took care of dear Dagger." Sanji took the water and turned away. The image of you waiting for him in the bathtub was more than he needed to avoid that possible argument.

Zoro's fingers slid across the wet patch on the counter and the smell in the air couldn't be denied. Maybe the cook had taken too much care of Dagger.

#reader insert #fiction #no use of y/n #one piece #requests open #vinsmoke sanji #one piece sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x you #black leg sanji #minors dni

[ghouljams]

I’m biting at the bars of my cage Jesus Christ I love Viking!gaz

It doesn't matter where you are when he gets home, Gaz will find you and scoop you up. You're carrying one of your chickens to market and suddenly you and your feathered friend are pulled against Gaz's chest. You do your best not to catch you smile on his fur even though you're both burying your faces against each other. The chicken squawks in annoyance and Gaz laughs. He holds your face so gently, eyes roaming over you, hungry as he soaks in every detail. He kisses you quick before pressing his forehead against yours, your noses rubbing against each other.

"Welcome home," you breathe, soaking in his smile like the winter sun. You suppose this takes care of dinner, the longhouse will likely throw a feast for the vikings' return. Gaz kisses you again, his lips chapped but insistent before he pulls back again.

"Gods I'm glad to see you," he sighs, taking the chicken from under your arm and petting its proud little head. His other hand takes yours to keep walking towards the market. You press close against his side, warmed noy by the furs and leathers he's wearing but by the man underneath. You toy with one of his braids, it'll need to be redone. Yet another problem for later.

"Shouldn't you be unloading the ship?" You question, squeezing his hand so he knows you're not trying to send him off.

"They have enough hands," he assures you. Fine by you, plenty of men rush to see their partners after the long journey, you're sure there are people at port ready to fill in. You certainly aren't sending Gaz away any time soon, not when he's just come home to you. You're sure he'll be stuck to your side for a good few weeks, and you plan on enjoying every second of it.

"I brought you something," he tells you conspiratorily after you hand your chicken off and collect payment.

"What?" You grin, dragging his arm around your shoulders as you walk through the little stalls. He tugs you closer against his side and digs through the pouch at his side, tugging a leather cord free. He dangles it in front of you, the same way he does to entertain the cat. You fix your eyes on the fat white beads strung along it, intricately carved with little hills and valleys. You take it from him to inspect with careful fingers.

The beads stick to your skin ever so slightly. Bone. Delicately carved to size and hollowed out, you wonder how long Gaz was working on this. Probably as long as he was away. He kisses your temple while you admire his work, leading the way back to the docks. Every gift he gives you, the time and care behind it, feels like another proposal.

"One for each week I was away," Gaz tells you, pushing the beads in your palm with gentle fingers, counting to be sure they're all there. You make note of the worn stitches in his leather glove, you'll need to fix those.

"They're beautiful," you tell him, closing your hand tightly around the beads and tucking them close to your heart, "Thank you."

You tip your head back so Gaz can kiss you, and hope that you'll have the same number of weeks with him home.

#cod x reader #x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #gaz x reader #gaz mw2 #gaz modern warfare #gaz cod #gaz garrick #viking!gaz #viking au #i love the idea of gaz with braids

[the-kr8tor]

Seafoam on the shore

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 2.8k

Tags: Use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), CW drinking, CW food mentions, TW injury.

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

Navigation

CHAPTER 1 >>> CHAPTER 2

You run as fast as you can, your feet flying off the muddy uneven streets. Huffing while a local copper yells at you to stop, his yells get more exhausted every second he chases after you. So far he isn't even near you, one of the few benefits of staying at a provincial fishing town is that the police are either too out of shape to catch you, their bellies round, definitely full of ale. Or they simply don't give a damn about a pickpocket, muttering to themselves how they're not paid enough to do a city cop's job.

Losing your balance, you silently curse at your worn down work boots. Sliding off the ground, skidding off down the streets, disturbing the hustle and bustle of the market. You hit a vegetable cart along the way, wood splintering, scratching your arms. Cabbages and carrots fly off, there's yelling and screaming around you and your legs are aching from the impact.

“Sorry!” You yell back to a disgruntled vendor.

He curses at you and your entire family for ruining his sale. You take a mental note to pay him back somehow when you're not currently occupied.

Digging your heels in, you come to a halt, you're lucky enough to get a hold on a lamp post. Glancing behind, you don't see the cop running after you but you're not taking any chances so you enter a tight alleyway. You know this village like the back of your hand, you have to or else seeing the inside of the jail would be waiting for you in the future.

Knowing there’s a pipe somewhere along the walls, you run your muddy hands along the bricks, the cramp walls touching your back and chest, you stop when your nail hits something metallic.

Your ears perk up at someone snitching, “fuck” without hesitation, you climb up the rusty pipe.

Hands digging into the metal. It creaks and groans, but it seems like lady luck is on your side when you reach the top with no problems.

Hearing hurried footsteps down below, you immediately lie low on the roof. Hiding yourself from his gaze. The cop glances around the alley, scratching his head, confused as to how you escaped without a trace.

“Damn” he mutters, completely winded.

You smile to yourself as he leaves. The sun bares at your back, cotton blouse sticking to your skin. Needing a bath is an understatement.

Standing up, you carefully tread the roof, avoiding floors that look damaged. You definitely don't want a repeat incident of what happened six villages ago. You can never get used to the view from up high, the sea blends in with the orange sky, melting together, blues, greens and reds mingle in harmony. The setting sun paints a picturesque scenery, draping everything it touches in its heavenly light.

Ships and fishing boats float above the waves as if they're dancing to the sound of the water splashing on its wooden sides.

Your hands instinctively reach for the necklace hidden under your blouse. Fingers tracing the etching of a flying bird that you know like the back of your hand.

Despite the open sea, you can't help but feel trapped. The docks beckon you over to somewhere you can't remember, somewhere where you can rest in peace, somewhere across the deep dark treacherous sea are people you can call your home. People who may have been looking for you all this time. Their faces are but a blur in your mind, voices a mere echo lingering in your heart. The pendant leaves a circular indent on your palms as you grip it tight.

Is it possible to miss someone you don't even remember?

Your train of thought gets interrupted by movement from a ship floating along the dock, a large sailboat whose wood differs from each one of its structures. You can tell from how some of it is painted gold and silver like the ones on royal ships, it looks like it was hastily hammered into regular oak with intricate carvings. Some wood blends better together, dark timber melding with ashen wood. Three cannons are lined on the sides, its metal having seen better days, no longer glimmering in the sunlight.

From where you're standing, the figurehead on the bow looks peculiar, like nothing you've ever seen traveling along coastal towns. A fierce creature with sharp teeth opening its jaws, eyes wide and alert. Its red scaly skin adds to its terrifying image. What's more peculiar is the lack of flag flying on its mast. An unknown ship from an unknown place tickles your curiosity.

You slink back down on the roof when a woman emerges from below deck, her blond hair shining under the sun. Another much taller one follows behind her. Raven colored hair flowing in the soft wind. They seem to be arguing, but you're completely bewildered as to how they're allowed to sail. All this time, you can't believe that you can actually step foot inside a boat, moreso sail on it.

This changes everything, you suppose.

You leave the roof, letting the women argue amongst themselves. Expertly hopping from awning to canopy, you land at your final destination, the White Salmon pub.

Jumping down, you land on a cart full of broken fishing nets, it's a miracle that you weren't tangled under all the mess.

Entering the rowdy pub, the smell of ale and pickled fish enters your nostrils. A bunch of sailors sing off key in the middle, too drunk to care about the ruckus they're making. You try to blend in with the drunk crowd, hiding behind people, weaving around them to sneak past the bar and upto the stairs leading up to your room.

“Oi! did ya think I wouldn't notice ya?”

You stop just about the foot of the stairs. Groaning in exasperation, quickly taking off the bandana tied around your face to conceal half of your face. You try your best to put your best smile, turning your charm up to a hundred.

“Hi, aunty Janet” you walk towards her like a child caught with their hands inside the cookie jar. “I got the butter you asked”

Janet huffs, eyes narrowed, her brows furrowed. You place the stick of butter in front of her like an offering to appease an angry God.

“Please don't tell me the coppers will be knocking on my doors again”

“That was one time! Besides I actually paid for this one” you push the butter towards her with your finger. She stares at it like you're giving her contraband.

You give her one charming smile, she sighs, taking the butter from the counter. “You're on thin ice, Y/N. Don't make me regret taking you in.”

“That was a year ago and look, I'm still here!”

“A year and a half, I counted because with every shit ya manage to pull, a strand of my hair turns white.” she points at her hair that's almost completely white. “This used to be black”

“I know, I'm sorry. I just need to–”

“To what? It always seems like you're hiding shit from me and Thena” She tries to hold your hand on the counter but you flinch away.

“Won't happen again, I promise.” A clear lie on your part, you'll just have to be better at sneaking. You vault over the counter to roll up your sleeves, clean yourself up and put on your apron.

“When will you learn, girl?”

“When the king sentences me to death himself!” grabbing an empty tray, you start clearing a nearby table. Janet pinches the bridge of her nose.

After dodging rowdy customers and a flying pint, Thena takes a break with you in the tiny corner of the tavern. She unabashedly sighs loudly, smelling of ale and lavender she hastily rubbed on to mask the scent of alcohol.

You side eye her with a tired smile, Thena sighs again, louder this time, a few patrons gaze your way.

“Alright, what's wrong?”

“Oh nothin' it's just Arthur's back again and he hasn't even glanced my way”

You flick your eyes towards the blonde patron nursing a pint, his green eyes meet yours, he smiles with his yellow teeth and you look away immediately, not from embarrassment, no, but from how you don't want his eyes on you.

Why in the world is Thena so smitten by someone like Arthur who comes and goes into the pub more than he goes inside a bathroom?

“You could do better, Thena. One that actually brings in coins instead of using them all in the pub or a brothel.”

“I know,” she sighs once again. Leaning closer to your side so you slide further away. “But he's the fittest bloke here though” whining, she puffs out her cheeks.

As if some divine comedy, Arthur beckons you over with a twist of his hand. You internally cringe.

Thena gasps, “I think he's finally taking notice of me!” She stands up, sauntering over to his table with the confidence of a newborn deer.

Before you could rescue her though, Janet yells at you from the other side of the room. “Get back to work, Y/N!” She signals with head, pointing towards a table by the corner.

You groan, lumbering your way towards the customers. His large back is turned away from you, brown hair neatly slicked back, clothes looking too neat and expensive for a dingy pub like the white salmon. His companion thumps her head on the wall lightly like she's trying to get water out of her ears. Her hair is cut short, glasses over her almond shaped eyes, clothes equally looking expensive but less neat than her large companion.

Her lips turn upwards once she sees you. “Finally some service” she stretches her legs out, noting how she's wearing trousers instead of the usual frilly skirts rich women wear.

“Sorry, what can I do for you?” You put on your customer service voice that's laced with mild annoyance. The man sits still like a rock, his back still turned away from you.

“Fish and chips, some pickled eggs and a pint.” She glances at her friend before groaning with a sly smirk. “And he'll have plain porridge, no seasoning, just porridge. It's better if it's days old. Right, Miguel?”

The man huffs, craning his neck to look over his shoulder. The single candle light on the table illuminates his chiseled face, turning his eyes crimson.

“A pint will do” his voice is gruff yet calm.

There's alarm bells ringing in your head, the tray falls from your shaking hands. Your heart thumps louder than the clanking metal.

“Careful there, it's bad to drink on the job” His friend’s comment falls on deaf ears as you stare at the man before you. His expression doesn't change except for how his eyebrows lift slightly.

It's been years, surely he doesn't recognize me as an adult, right?

You clear your throat, mustering the best smile you can do. “Sorry about that, I'll get your orders right away” leaning down to take the tray from the sticky floors, your necklace slips out of your blouse, the gold shimmering in the candle light.

He could burn you with just his stare.

Walking briskly, clutching the tray, its metal is uncomfortably cold on your skin. The pub seems to get louder and louder with every footstep, the laughter and rowdy singing makes you dizzy. Janet calls after you as you run up the stairs to your room.

Thinking fast, you lock the door, pushing your dresser to further lock it. Your mind races to the floorboards beneath your threadbare bed. With your bare hands you hastily take the wood out revealing a hollow hole containing your possessions.

There's loud booming footsteps climbing up the stairs. Followed by his voice calling your name.

“Fuck” without thinking, you take the bag from its hiding place, slinging it over your shoulder before you cross the small space to the window.

“Y/N, Please!” He keeps calling after you. “Let me just,” thump, “fuck!”

That's your signal to jump down.

Landing on your heels, you feel your knees aching from the fall. You hear your bedroom door slam open with a force that surely broke its hinges.

You run like you've ran from him like last time.

Suddenly, you're thirteen years old, weaving through the forest, vines prickling your legs as you wade through the thicket. White lilies are but a blur as tears flow freely from your eyes as you keep running without a destination.

Why? Aren't you enough? Did she not love you like you thought she did? What did you do to deserve being abandoned twice?

You're back to the present when he yells your name again. Your heart pounds loudly on your ribcage, lungs burning, you feel like you're about to collapse.

His companion also runs after you, screaming your name desperately.

But you have the upperhand. Using the moon as your guide, you climb up a house, its bricks protruding out of the walls, the place you used to climb to practice, but now you climb it to save your own skin.

Running from roof to roof, you feel a presence behind you. His thunderous footsteps echo into the cold night. You don't dare look behind.

The woman follows you from the ground, her heels clicking on the uneven sidewalk. “Y/N! Wait up–shit!” Without looking down, you hear her fall.

He screams your name again, the same one she called you back then.

You run furiously, jumping off the side only to keep running towards the docks. Panicking, you see a ship leaving the docks, its fishing net left hanging on the side. Without thinking, you make a break for it.

Sprinting on the old docks, you leap the huge gap. Miraculously, you take hold of the net, clinging to it with all your might. Entering the net, you ignore the smell of fish, watching as the place you once called home gets smaller and smaller.

You say goodbye to Janet, who kindly took you in without asking for anything in return. Who gave you a job and a room so you don't freeze and starve outside. Who took care of you when you fell ill to the cold.

You say goodbye to Thena, the only friend you've ever had, the longest friend you've ever had. The same Thena who taught you how to sew and mend your own clothes. Thena who taught you how to throw a punch when a handsy sailor tries to touch you.

Thena whom you've grown accustomed to calling you her sister.

You say goodbye to the fishing town you've only recently called your home.

You say goodbye to the man at the docks who's staring at your fleeing form, whose eyes are narrowed, almost pleading for you to come back.

A/N: There's no Hobie appearance in this chapter yet :( (next chapter though 👀)

Hope you like it, thank you for reading!

#between the devil and the sea #between the devil and the sea chap 1 #BDAS #Between the devil and the sea series #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #the kr8tor's creations #hobie brown #spider punk #x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv fanfic #atsv x reader #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown x you #pirate! hobie brown #spider punk x fem!reader #cw food mention #cw drinking #tw injury #fanfic

[atinywriter]

hidden treasure

[ kim hongjoong x reader ] [ pirate!au ] [ mermaid!reader ]

[ wordcount: 4.6k]

[ warnings: mild violence, suggestive tones, unedited for the most part ]

[ a/n: there were so many different ways i wanted to go with this but wanted to put out a semi finished form? i’m open to more fics in this universe for sure 👀 ]

The sharp glint of the silver bejeweled knife against the swell of a rotten man’s throat always made Hongjoong grin. The man in question was a lowly black market peddler, Willoughby, one that sold Hongjoong and his crew a lousy map that led them to a treasure that had already been taken.

“Given your history I really should have known better. Now here we are, my knife against your throat and your life in my hands. What are we going to do about that, hmm?” Hongjoong asks menacingly, pressing the silver blade closer to his artery. Willoughby swallows thickly, the sharp blade nicking his skin.

“How was I supposed to know the treasure was already taken? It’s not like I’m the one who took it. Look, I can give you another map, free of charge,” the cocky man barters, and a scoff sounds from behind Hongjoong.

“As if that could make up for the bullshit we went through, you rat. Just kill him, Hongjoong, he’s good for nothing anyways,” Seonghwa says moodily. He never liked this peddler and always felt like he was giving out poor information, it would be better to just not have to deal with him. The mission for the previously said treasure had gone wrong at every turn, ending up with their youngest crew member Jongho on light duty due to an injury he had gotten.

“Hmm, yes Seonghwa maybe you’re right. Why would I risk anything else when I could easily kill you and take all of your maps,” Hongjoong asks sarcastically, “Is there really nothing better you can offer me?” The heel of Hongjoong’s black boot crushes down onto the peddlers hand resting against the dirt, fingers crunching and a desperate howl leaves the peddlers mouth.

“Aish, okay I have something to offer you. My own secret cove that holds my personal treasures. I have a map in my right breast pocket. Take it and spare my life, I’m begging,” the peddler says, his eyes shedding a few tears. Hongjoong harshly pulls the map from his pocket, opening it up and looking at it. He didn’t see any locations marked, so he passes it off to Seonghwa to examine.

“You’re a lying rat now, huh? There’s not even any locations marked on this map,” Seonghwa snaps.

“I leave it unmarked in case it falls into the wrong hands, I’ll mark it for you, please just spare my life,” the man begs, voice breathy from the pain in his hand. Hongjoong giggles sadistically before pressing his heel further into the man’s hand, making sure to leave his mark before letting off of the pressure. Immediately after releasing his hand the peddler pulls it close to his chest, cradling it and crying silently. Hongjoong pulls a pen out of his jacket pocket, handing it to the man and holding the map against his own leg for the man to mark it. The man quickly draws an X in a little cove off the coast of a quiet, secluded tropical island. It was an area of the ocean known to be peaceful and quiet, not many ships sailing through. If this cove does turn out to be another lie, at the very least his crew will be able to relax on the island. Hongjoong kicks the peddler down onto his ass before getting into his face, a menacing smile taking over.

“If this is another scam, rat, we’ll be back for you, and you won’t live to tell the tale,” Hongjoong threatens and the man nods quickly, crawling back on his hands to create some space between them before darting up and running off into the towns busiest area.

“Finish up collecting your supplies in town, Seonghwa. We’ll be leaving before dawn,” Hongjoong says before turning and walking back down the dock towards the Illusion, the most mysterious ship on the seas. Hongjoong never allowed anyone who stepped on deck to live save for his crew, there were too many luxurious treasures hidden about the ship to risk someone catching sight of them.

The ship was quiet when he returned, most of the crew taking advantage of the docking to catch up on some well deserved rest. He can see Wooyoung scaling down the ropes from the lookout, landing beside Hongjoong with a quiet thump.

“Where’s Seonghwa,” Wooyoung questions.

“He’s just picking up the last of the supplies we need,” Hongjoong answers while pulling the map out of his inner chest pocket, “We’re heading for a little island off the coast of Fiji. Wake Yunho, Mingi, and Yeosang when you see Seonghwa return and we will depart for the open ocean.”

It’s not long before Seonghwa is quietly trekking down the boardwalk, arms chalked full of bags. He lets out a sharp whistle and patiently waits as Wooyoung scales from the heights of the crow’s nest to take half of the bags from him. The pair head into the galley, dropping off the bags to be unpacked by Seonghwa while Wooyoung wakes Yeosang, Mingi, and Yunho. Minutes later the sails were up and the ship was coasting on before the sun was glinting over the horizon.

A few days after some surprisingly smooth sailing, the crew were anchoring off the coast of the small island that had an untouched green jungle presented past the rich tan sands of the beach. A few of the members had pulled out some hammocks, excited to bask with the sun on their face and fresh fruit in their mouths. Yeosang and Jongho had been stuck with ship sitting duty, due to Jongho’s injury. Yeosang had been teaching the youngest member a game played with a deck of cards and had voluntarily stayed behind. The other members boarded their rowboat and quickly set off to shore.

Once tied off, the members split up into two groups - Mingi, San, and Wooyoung were setting up their hammocks and getting together some fruit and fresh water, ready for a relaxing beach day. Hongjoong couldn’t complain, he knew they had been in some exhausting conditions recently and he had no bad feelings about this island. In fact this was probably the most at peace he had felt on land in many years. The map had a cove marked not far off from the beach they had landed on, just a short trek through the jungle to their left. Hongjoong led the way with an impatient buzz, Seonghwa and Yunho following closely behind. Yunho whistled a tune as they walked, keeping the mood upbeat as the sunlight filtered through the dense green canopy.

As they neared the cove, they could tell that the rat of a smuggler had clearly left his mark in the forest, trash strewn about fire pits and random bits and bobs making a mess of a beautiful jungle.

“Looks like you should’ve killed him while you had him, captain. Nobody should be making such a mess of a pretty place like this,” Yunho says to Hongjoong as they’re locating the door to the hidden away cove.

The entrance was hidden by hanging ivy, the trio walking in together quietly. Hongjoong could feel his muscles tightening up slightly, a tell tale sign that there was some sort of magic in this cave, regardless of the stale wet smell blanketing everything. Looking over his shoulder, he connects eyes with the pair behind him and gestures for them to look around for anything of value. Neither of them had the connection with magic that Hongjoong did, albeit he only had a small connection it was more than anyone would consider normal. The pair seperated, looking at the homemade shelving systems and chests strewn about the cave.

“Well, would you look at that,” Seonghwa says with a mirthful tone, pointing out the treasure he had just uncovered from a dirty tarp. The same treasure that the lying smuggler had just sold them a map for, that they had gone through a tumultuous time getting to, that had gotten Jongho injured.

“The next moment we see him will be his last, I swear it,” Hongjoong says darkly. Yunho is gathering maps up from a table nearby, various areas with various X’s for treasure lining them. Hongjoong continues deeper into the cave while the other two take more looks around. He’s following the sizzle from the magic in his bones, the dim lighting going in and out and wet flooring squelching beneath his boots.

There’s a candle flickering on a small stand ahead, one that they didn’t light and could’ve been lit for who knows how long given the wax buildup along the stand. Hongjoong’s tense shoulders drop, maybe this was the magic he had been sensing all along - an always lit candle. He steps closer, his guard down for the time being.

As he’s nearing the light gives way to a large, sealed glass tank full of murky water. It’s about his height, the top and edges a rusted metal that had been poorly made. Clearly not something that was supposed to be here. Curiouser, Hongjoong squats near to the middle of the glass, eyes trying to get a look into the murky water. It almost looks like the water inside was slightly moving, tiny waves hitting the side of glass lightly. He swears he hears a splash as he’s squatting there, trying to get a look in and see whatever creature must be in there. Against his better judgement he leans in closer, lifting his hand up to lightly tap on the glass twice. The waves increase in intensity as he does so, and he thinks he sees shimmering white scales and a large fin swimming by swiftly. There’s footsteps behind him as Seonghwa and Yunho approach. They get in close and even go so far as to lean up against the lid, sending it barely sliding off the top letting a sliver of air and light into the tank.

Suddenly the creature in the tank zooms up to the sliver, and Hongjoong falls back onto his ass as he finally takes it in fully. It’s half woman half fish, an actual mermaid in the flesh. Hongjoong had been lucky enough in the past to catch glimpses of them, fins along the waves or eyes peeking over the calm water, but never to this extent. She was ethereal, he could feel himself being mesmerized by her at a glance. Her mouth was pressed against the open crack, gasping for air with her long dark hair streaming across her bare torso.

“Holy shit, captain. Is that a mermaid? An actual mermaid? God, she can’t even breath in that water,” Yunho is excited, pressing closer to get a better look. Hongjoong pushes himself up forcefully, anger seeping into him and his rage fueling the fire of hate he has for the lying scum who led them here.

“He’s got her trapped here, in a tiny fishbowl in the dark with no fresh air. I shouldn’t have let him go, he doesn’t deserve to breathe,” Hongjoong clenches his fist and squeezes his eyes shut, the regret taking over. He was here now, and he needed to do something to help her. He steps up to the tank, closer than Seonghwa and even Yunho. He goes to place his hands against the rusty metal lid of the ramshackle tank and as he moves so does she. Her eyes are wide, and she ducks down into the corner of the tank. She’s still in sight, watching them carefully to see what they’ll do. Hongjoong tries shifting the lid, but there’s something blocking the back corner making it too difficult to push farther than a foot. It was more space than she’d had before, but still not enough to be able to lift her out of the tank. He steps back a bit, keeping his eye on her as she swims up to the now larger gap. She lifts her head through, neck coming up but getting caught at her shoulders. She’s still scared, but her eyes give way to her curiosity.

“Hello there. My name is Hongjoong, and this is Seonghwa and Yunho,” he starts with pointing out his crew mates as an introduction, “We’re not here to hurt you, in fact I think we’ll be the ones to help you escape this nightmare. What’s your name?” The mermaid is silent for a few more moments, not wanting her naivety and blind trust to show too easily.

“My name is [Y/n],” she replies airily, “and just how exactly do you expect to get me out of here when you can’t even open the lid?” She taunts him lightly, wanting to test his patience and see the type of man he is. He does nothing but smile back to her, amusement at her immediate wit apparent. He calls over the other two and has them search for whatever they could use to pry it open far enough to get her out. They return with a long board and a crowbar along with an axe to hold it open once they pry the lid up.

“Alright, [Y/n], here’s the plan. These two are going to pry up the two sides enough to prop it open and slide you up and out, do you think that sounds alright?” Hongjoong knows when they lift the lid they must work fast, as the poor quality could cause for any sort of calamity. The mermaid nods and everyone gets to work. She swims up next to where they’re pulling up the edges, wanting this to be over fast. Hongjoong is there in front of her, their eyes meeting over the edge of the tank. He disappears for a moment to place a crate on the floor for him to stand on, giving him a better reach into the tank. He reappears in front of her, holding his hands out.

“They’re going to lift it up and then I’m going to help you out. Is it alright if I hold onto you while we get you out?” He asks, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

“Yes that should be alright,” [Y/n] reaches out to him, her hand gripping onto his. His hands are warm to the touch, while hers are cold and starved for touch.

“Have you ever been out of water before? What happens when we take you out of here,” Hongjoong asks, mesmerized by her but worried for her safety.

“No, I’ve never been on land before, it’s quite exciting. I have no idea what will happen, let’s find out together,” [Y/n] says excitedly, gripping onto him tighter.

Hongjoong nods his head to Seonghwa and Yunho, indicating for them to lift. As the gap gets bigger he wraps his arms around where her torso and tail meet. He’s lifting her out when he loses his grip slightly, the crate underneath him cracking and sending his foot through. Hongjoong falls backwards, hands still wrapped around the mermaid, pulling her along with him. They land in a wet heap on the sharp rock floor, her landing on top of him soaking his shirt with her hair.

Yunho and Seonghwa release the lift on the lid as soon as they’re both out of the way, pushing it back into its original position to make it look as though no one had touched it. Their attention goes to the two in a pile on the floor, watching quietly as a slight shimmer runs over the mermaids tail, shimmering enough to blur it before lightening up to show a pair of legs instead of the scales and fin she was used to. Hongjoong removes his hands from her gently as she watches, she sits up and starts counting her toes and running her hands up her legs. Hongjoong is standing quickly, unbuttoning his damp shirt and taking it off before placing it around the now human looking woman’s shoulders. She looks up into his eyes with a deep smile on her face, her eyes full of excitement.

“Wow, I never thought I’d ever have legs like this. Please, can you help me stand up like the three of you,” [Y/n] asks, reaching her hands out to Hongjoong to lift her. He obliges, lifting her from her small waist to stand on her two feet like him. After a moment she looses her full strength and falls into him slightly, not used to the feeling.

“Careful, better to take it slow so you don’t fall down and hurt yourself,” Hongjoong says still gripping onto her waist, half her weight against him as they look into each others eyes. Yunho and Seonghwa exchange glances with eyebrows raised and smirks.

[Y/n] stands fully, stepping away from Hongjoong’s support. His hand seeks out hers at the loss of her waist, as she moves to take a few steps their fingers tips brush and they release each other, and a cold feeling sets into his hand at the loss of her touch. She finds her balance and is soon jumping and dancing in joy while the three men avoid gazing at her barely clothed body. Seonghwa pulls his bag off his back and retrieves a new shirt for the captain and a pair of trousers for the new human, which he also hands to Hongjoong to address.

“Is there anywhere you need to be? Anywhere we can take you,” Hongjoong asks while throwing the clean shirt on. [Y/n] stops prancing around the cave and comes to a stop in front of the tank, looking into it somberly.

“No, I don’t believe I’ve made any plans with anyone. I’ve got nothing going on. Oh, I suppose I told Josie the hammerhead I’d watch her new pup for her but that had to have a been a few months ago now…” she trails off quietly, thinking of the things she probably missed out on in her absence, “Looks like my schedule is all free for now, do you have any plans,” she turns around with a beaming smile on her face, pushing down the bad feelings. Hongjoong gestures for her to come closer, showing her the pants Seonghwa had pulled out for her to wear. If it were possible her smile got even brighter.

“I’ve always wanted my own pair of pantaloons! How exciting, it’s like i’m a real human now,” she chatters as Hongjoong helps her get into them, pulling them up her leg and buttoning them quickly before he let his thoughts wander too much. It was hard not to think of how soft her skin was, how it was smooth and unmarked to everyone’s touch, except for his now.

“Well, our only plan was finding all of the treasure that rotten Willoughby had stashed away here. Now that that’s all ours, we had planned to relax on the beach and eat good food and sing songs until we decide where to go. Would you like to join us and meet the rest of the crew?” Hongjoong asked her gently, not expecting her to want to come with them anywhere and instead want to go back to the open ocean, just like he’s always escaping to.

“There’s even more of you guys, oh wow I can’t wait to meet them. Please, take me with you,” [Y/n] grasps onto his hand, curiosity and happiness beaming off her in contagious waves. Hongjoong beams back at her, heating her up from head to toe. They turn towards Seonghwa and Yunho, who are getting the last few of the things they wanted this evening with them. They would bring a few more crew mates out here tomorrow morning to collect fully before thinking about departing from the island for their next adventure.

The walk back to the beach took longer than they’d expected due to the constant discovery [Y/n] was doing having never seen anything like the jungle before. She wanted to caress every leaf to see the texture and giggled exuberantly when a few butterflies were following her, landing on her arms and hand. Hers eyes were wide with childlike wonder, and Hongjoong almost felt jealous at her excitement to be on land. He had always had trouble with it, but he could understand considering this island felt more peaceful than any island he had been to before. The sounds of the forest were happy, and he could still hear the waves crashing against the beach a little bit away. He felt like it was easy to breathe here, and he wasn’t sure if that was from the jungle or the life that the mermaid had breathed into him. He watched her fondly as she experienced this new experience, while Seonghwa and Yunho trekked ahead to inform the others about the new guest.

It wasn’t long before [Y/n]’s curiosity changed from the environment to the possibility of new friends. She walked carefully along the path Hongjoong was making, stumbling slightly until he reached a hand out behind to grip onto hers to stabilize her. She continued holding his hand and walking closely as they neared the new people, feeling a bit shy. She could hear the chatter coming from the group, peeking over Hongjoong’s shoulder as they near. There were three new faces there, and the five of them had their eyes immediately on her as soon as they saw her look over his shoulder. Yunho and Seonghwa had encouraging smiles on their faces, while the other three portrayed disbelief and confusion. Hongjoong pulls her from behind him to stand at his side, hands still clasped but using his other hand to point out each of the new people.

“[Y/n], this are my friends and crew mates. The tall one next to Yunho is Mingi, the one between Mingi and Seonghwa is San, and the one on the end is Wooyoung. Everyone, this is [Y/n], and she’ll be joining us for the time being,” Hongjoong introduces everyone as they each wave at their names. [Y/n] tugs him excitedly along the beach to get near the new additions. They were all dressed so interestingly, all different styles and accessories. That was always one thing she’d heard gossip about from the members of her community, land people fashion. Accessories were easy enough to come across in the ocean, all sorts of rings and diamond earrings. But clothes were more difficult, they were either damaged from age or accident, and they never quite looked as good underwater as on land. She quickly pulls Mingi’s hands into hers and admires his rings.

“I love your rings Mingi, they look so cool. I had a ring that looked just like that one once,” she chatters happily as she pointed to a skull and crossbones ring on his middle finger. Before Mingi could even reply, she was darting off to stand in front of Wooyoung, getting in his space as she examined the earring he was wearing.

“Wooyoung, that earring is so cool, look I’m wearing one that could match it! I found it in a shipwreck a little while before that awful Willoughby snatched me up. Look,” she pulls her dark hair back over her shoulder as she lets him take a look at the identical earring in her right ear. Wooyoung’s hand goes up to his left ear, feeling the earring he hadn’t taken off in years.

“Funny story about this earring actually. I had a friend when I was younger who had a pair of earrings that he found in the sand while digging around- beautiful gold hoops with a pearl dangling down. He offered one to me and we each wore one to show our deep friendship for each other. My friend passed away a few years ago in a shipwreck, while he was wearing that earring. Maybe you found the one that was his,” Wooyoung explains, feeling somber at the memories. He hears sniffling and looks up from his thoughts to catch [Y/n]’s eye, full of tears and a sad look on your face.

“That might be the saddest story I’ve ever heard Wooyoung, but it must be fate that brought us together, I found it for you,” she says as she’s tugging it out of her ear and placing it in his hand, closing his fingers around it and placing her hand on top of his. She gives him a soft smile as a tear drops from his eye, before he pulls her in for a tight hug.

“It’s a surprise that Willoughby didn’t take it off of you when he snatched you up,” Hongjoong says, coming up next to them and placing his hand on her back lightly.

“Well, he tried once or twice. But my friend Josie, the hammerhead I told you about earlier, she taught me to bite anyone who got near my face if I didn't want them to be there,” [Y/n] explained cheerily.

“Some sound advice from Josie, I like her already,” Wooyoung says with humor.

“With introductions here over, how would you feel about coming onto the Illusion and meeting the last two before having a nice warm meal. Yeosang said he would be cooking a hearty stew this evening,” Hongjoong questions. [Y/n] feels as though this is the adventure she’s always been looking for, and is more than delighted to experience these new things with Hongjoong and his crew.

After that it was easy to bond with the crew, and even easier to bond with its captain due to the crew’s appreciation for her. She met Yeosang and Jongho respectively, who were nothing but welcoming. They traveled together for a while building friendships with each of them, before the captain formally invited her to become a crew member aboard the Illusion. Accepting immediately, she shared in many adventures with the crew, on land and sailing the seven seas.

The entire crew was astonished when one day she jumped into the water off of the crows nest, a daunting feat. The crew panicked momentarily as they hadn’t seen her resurface quickly, worrying for her life. As the entire crew was leaning over the railing, the captain getting ready to leap in after her, she suddenly resurfaced, leaping from the water with a shimmering pearl-like tail that took their breath away. The joy and happiness radiating from her clung to them like glue, leading them each to jump into the calm waters and play in the ocean for a while.

The sun was setting when the captain mustered up his courage to swim over to the mermaid. She was fiddling with seashells and seaweed in her hands, creating what looked to be a makeshift crown. As he approached, she turned to him with a smile and offered it out to him. He happily placed it upon his head, although crookedly. [Y/n] giggles as she swims right up to him, adjusting it on his head. Hongjoong’s hands grip her waist like the first time they had met, gently but pulling her towards him. He’s looking at her with red cheeks and parted lips, before leaning down and placing his lips on hers.

“I’m really happy you didn’t bite me,” Hongjoong jests.

“Why would I bite the person I’ve wanted in my face since I was rescued by them,” [Y/n] jokes back before connecting their lips together again.

They shared their first kiss under the pink and orange sunset and in the calm cool waves that they both loved, but many more followed in all sorts of interesting scenarios.

#ateez #atz #ateez fanfic #ateez au #ateez au fic #hongjoong #kim hongjoong #ateez x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x reader #pirate!au #/mine #ateez imagine #atz imagine #atz au

[letsgetrowdy43]

The perfect proposal—

Request: quinn proposing!! 🌼

It was supposed to be simple, intimate, and maybe even a little quiet. But it turned out even more perfect than he could've imagined.

Quinn had kept his idea of his proposal as secretive as he could, only confiding in his mother about possibly having a Hughes' family heirloom as their engagement ring. Specifically, the ring his grandmother had set aside for him when she first met Y/n, deeming her the next rightful owner of the vintage emerald ring that she had hidden away years prior to the couple's meeting.

He spent a solid week begging his brothers to postpone their summer vacations by just another week. Giving them no explanation but the promise that he would make it up to them.

Quinn's day of romances started early, a grin on his lips as he woke her up with a freshly brewed coffee and sloppy kisses to her cheek, her body tensed as she woke you, her face breaking into a soft smile as Quinn finally placed a kiss to her lips. "You're up early?" He shrugged, "couldn't sleep," he mumbled as she sat up and leaned against his arm, coffee in her hands as she fought off the fatigue.

Her free hand intertwined with his as they sat in silence for a second, watching the curtains blow with the light breeze, allowing the sun to beam into the room and display the view of the lake, the water looked as if it was glass and the sun was rising.

"Since we are up so early," she grinned as she placed a kiss on his jaw, "maybe we could go check out that market we meant to visit last summer," she mumbled as Quinn nodded along. "I'll do whatever you want," he whispered as she hummed in appreciation, "give me a minute to wake myself up." Quinn placed a kiss on her cheek before getting up ad off of the bed to get himself ready and out of the way so she could get herself ready in peace, "sound good dove."

And that was the extent of their morning. An early breakfast run at Quinn's favourite diner, followed by the two of them exploring the small market in town, which led to a proposal for dinner on the dock, made by hers truly.

The universe was clearly working in Quinn's favour, his night of romance basically planning itself out as the day progressed.

Y/n left rushed kisses to Quinn's lips as he tied the bow of her apron, a shy smile plastered on his lips as she whispered about how handsome he was looking with the growing stubble on his face and the slight sun-kissed glow that blessed his cheeks.

"You're trying to get me worked up," he said as his brows furrowed, finishing the knot and letting his hands finally grip her hips, thumbs running over the material of her jean shorts as she grinned widely. "Is it working?" she whispered against his lips before planting another kiss on his smile, he nodded, speechless as he kissed her deeply. She pulled away, a devious grin on her face as Quinn followed her lips, "we need to eat dinner," she watched as his face fell into a pout before she stood on the tips of her toes to kiss his cheek and then swung into action.

Dinner on the dock was it, this was the moment he'd been waiting for, nothing would ever be ask perfect than the atmosphere of intimacy that encapsulated them. The sunset, the lake, dinner, and love were the key ingredients to a perfect proposal, and Quinn could not wait to get that ring on her finger.

They sat on the dock, her back pressed up against his chest as they watched the sunset’s reflection displayed across the water. His arms securely wrapped around the girl as Quinn let out a content sigh, a grin working its way onto her face as he rested his chin against the crown of her head, trying to figure out the precise moment to pop the question.

“I have a really insane question,” she mumbled as her hand found comfort intertwined with his, an intrigued look on his face as she angled her head to press a sloppy kiss to his jaw. Quinn nodded as she pulled away from him for a second to reach in her back pocket, “let’s get married,” she said, turning her body and presenting him with a simple gold band, her face broke out into a flustered nervous smile, as she watched her boyfriends face drop.

He was almost too stunned to speak, his jaw dropped as she grew even more nervous under his stare. “I can’t believe you just did that,” he said exasperatedly, she looked on the verge of tears as she slowly pulled away from him in embarrassment, “you just beat me to a proposal,” he laughed as he fished into his shorts pocket and pulled out the ring box he’d been carrying around all day.

Her brows furrowed as Quinn opened the box to reveal the Hughes family heirloom, a quiet gasp leaving her mouth as he grinned at the reaction. “I ruined your proposal?” She said in a sorry tone, as she looked at Quinn who just grinned back. “I think I ruined your's first dove,” he shrugged as he took her hand into his.

She grinned, the ring she bought for Quinn still in the palm of her hand, "let's get married," he said softly before she took him by surprise and slammed her lips onto his, a gasping in her mouth as her hand lightly tugged on his grown out hair. She pulled away momentarily, her eyes hazy and lustful as she fumbled trying to find his hand to slip the ring on his finger.

He grinned at the frustrated but concentrated look on her face as she shakily slid the band on his ring finger. He took her hand into his own and slipped the family ring on her finger, sealing the deal with a kiss to her knuckle as she blushed at his actions.

Y/n stared down at her hand for a second, knots tying in her stomach before looking up at Quinn who looked almost giddy with love. "I love you," she cupped his cheeks as he leaned forward and kissed her once again. His forehead pressed up against hers, "love you too, Mrs Hughes," she gasped at the name before his arms wrapped around her torso and pulled her into his lap to smother her in love.

The sunset, the lake, and everything around them disappeared into the background because all that mattered was the two of them, and the immense love flowing through their veins.

-

-

-

I hate it... but I have no motivation :/

#Captain huggy celly #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fic #vancouver canucks

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Something Old, Something New

Title: Something Old, Something New

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Nick Fowler x Reader

Fandom: The 355

Word Count: 9.5K (whoopsie)

Summary: Your childhood best friend invites you to your old vacation spot for her wedding, and you have been catching up with your first crush: her recently divorced big brother Nick.

Warnings: infidelity, divorce, recreational drug use (marijuana), drinking, mutual pining, pet names (Gumdrop, baby), praise kink, cunnilingus, unprotected p-in-v sex, mention of bodily fluids (creampie), public sex, if I forgot anything please tell me

A/N1: My tiles for @thebasementspouses VOTM Nick Fowler BINGO were: divorced, best friend’s brother, writer’s choice(prompt #802 from @creativepromptsforwriting), drunken confession, public sex. BINGO card at end of story.

A/N2: I have been working on this story for weeks and I really hope I have done the Nick Fowler fandom justice. It's my first time, and hopefully not the last time, writing for Nick. I thoroughly enjoyed writing him. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

Three Months Ago

The cardstock was rigid in your hands, the envelope discarded seconds ago. The confetti in the envelope litters around your Chucks as you bring your attention to the words embossed upon the invitation. You had been waiting for this day ever since you received the Save the Date announcement.

You ran your finger over the pretty lettering, its raised borders were a nice tactile touch. The peaceful pink, whispered white, and mellow merlot of the flowers against a hint of golden accents was a beautiful choice. Not too feminine, nor too masculine.

Turning the invitation over, you found more information. 

‘Accommodations will be completely covered for your 8-night stay at The Ocracoke Harbor Inn by the family of the Bride. You will be staying in the fully-furnished Treasure Chest Cottage. Amenities include full-service linens, complimentary wireless Internet, and guest boat docking. Guests have access to a sound-side beach. Password for WI-FI given upon check-in. Nonsmoking, no pets.’

Leave it to the Fowlers to go nuts and rent out the entire inn for their only daughter’s wedding, you thought to yourself. You were not surprised at all, growing up as a rich girl’s best friend had its perks.

As if on cue, your phone started to play the opening notes of Losing You by Solange to signal an incoming call. Pulling your phone out, you smiled seeing Deanne’s name. You clicked Accept and raised the phone to your ear.

“Hello to the future Mrs. Alexander!” Your cheery demeanor not letting on how jealous you were of your friend’s impending nuptials.

Euphonious laughter rings through the earpiece and you can’t help but join in.

“Girl, can you believe it? I am about to tie the knot, be off the market, and settle down. I’m only 12% nervous about everything so I’m doing great,” she snorted, and suddenly you were a bit less jealous if this kind of anxiety is what she had to deal with, “Anyway, um, I was giving you a call because I wanted to ask if you got your invitation and I also wanted to see if I could save myself time in waiting for your R.S.V.P. and bug and pester you until you agree to let my parents pay for you to come spend a week with us and come to my wedding and–”

“Deanne! Stop with the run-on sentence, doll. Did you think I was gonna pass up this opportunity? God, I love that you chose Ocracoke as your wedding destination. So many vacations were spent getting into all kinds of trouble,” you recalled, images of splashing in the water as kids and lounging on the beach as teens replayed in your mind.

“Yeah. Hey, when we were little girls planning our dream weddings, I was serious when I said I wanted it on the beach on Ocracoke Island. But not in the summer because of bugs and heat, but in the winter so we get that beautiful off-season fresh air,” Deanne mused.

“Dee, it’s gonna be gorgeous. I cannot wait to see you in your stunning dress walking down that aisle. Just know that since I am your oldest friend, you pretty much owe me the bouquet,” you laughed, only half-joking.

“As far as I’m concerned, it’s already yours,” she bantered, clearing her throat before speaking again, “So, I also called because I wanted to vent a little, if that’s okay?”

“It’s always okay. You doing alright?” you asked, now worried that your friend was in trouble.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine. I have an update on Nick and Tori, though,” she paused, allowing your mind to wander.

The mention of your first crush’s name sent a shiver down your back. Many a moment had been wasted thinking about his pretty smile and grayish-blue eyes. You’d liked Nick before you knew you even liked boys. He was the heartthrob that trumped every teen dream of every other girl in America’s heart. In your mind, he was the closest to perfect you could imagine. 

You responded, “Oh?”

“So, their divorce is finalized. My big brother is officially a divorcé. I would have thought that a man who was with someone for so long might be partying it up right now. But he says he’s focusing on work and, I don’t know. I just want him to be happy. And like, he’s getting divorced as I’m getting married and it feels so weird. It doesn’t seem fair,” she lamented.

“Dee, come on. You know Nicky wouldn’t want you to think like that. He loves you. You’re his favorite sibling,” you jested, trying to lighten the mood.

“Ha ha. I’m his only sibling. I better be his favorite,” Dee chuckled, happy to be distracted, “So that brings me to you, Miss Missy. Last I heard, you were dating some engineer guy? Do I get to meet him soon?”

You inwardly cringed, hopes dashed of being able to avoid the topic of your relationship status. Things with Curtis kind of fizzled out when you found his tongue down an intern’s throat. You had been bringing him dinner since he’d complained about the late nights at the office.

Turns out he was hungry for more than your baked ziti. 

You explained all this to Dee, remembering the look on Curtis’ face when you poured the prepared food into his lap. He was so shook, it was beautiful.

“I didn’t want to waste all that food but he looked wonderful with my pasta all over his shirt and pants. He honestly deserved it. It was his favorite shirt too. I hope those stains never come out,” you huffed, feeling like you were right back in that office again.

“I have never been so proud of you. I wish I could put hot sauce in his underwear for hurting my girl. I’m sure if I just had a few minutes, I could come up with something more diabolical than that. But it’s what I have at a moment’s notice,” she retorted.

One thing you could always count on Dee for? Getting angry for you and using her beautiful and educated mind to come up with some way to make the person who slighted you pay for their misdeeds. It was both adorable and super embarrassing to have her tiny frame looking up into some bully’s face pointing her finger at them.

“Well, I appreciate your offer, but he is so not worth the energy. You have much better things to think about, like your wedding day. This is your cue to stop worrying about me, Dee,” you advised, a stern tone coloring your words.

“Fine, I will stop worrying about you out loud. You got it, girl. Anyway, I won’t hold you. Talk soon, ok? I miss you,” she said, and you could envision her getting bleary-eyed.

“I miss you too, Dee. We’ll get together soon, I promise,” you sighed, feeling guilty for letting your friendship dwindle over the years.

“I’ll hold you to it. Bye, babe,” she hummed.

“Bye.” You hang up the phone and close your eyes. Visions of what Dee will look like in her wedding dress cloud your thoughts. Little snippets of grayish-blue eyes and dark brown hair seep in and you can almost hear his laugh again. You open your eyes, blinking away the mental images that brought you joy for a moment.

‘This is fine,’ you thought to yourself. Yeah, totally. You’re only going to see your best friend from childhood get married, effectively ending your childhood with a pretty bow on top. You also were only going to be with the biggest crush you ever had for like, an entire week. 

And he’s single. 

And probably needy. 

And...you had better get your jaw up off the floor if you were going to get anything done.

Three months is enough time to get your brain, your body, and your emotions in check before you make a fool out of yourself in front of your second family.

Right?

January 20th, 2024 – Day One

Standing on the deck of the Hatteras Ferry, you watch as Ocracoke Island comes into view. The sun is at its highest and you are thankful for your sunglasses shielding the the bright sunlight bouncing off the crystal clear waters. You can taste the salty air and you are instantly transported to memories of running around the decks of this ferry with Deanne and Nick while your mothers tried in vain to wrangle you all.

The island comes into view and you search the docks for a familiar face. Dee promised to meet you at the docks, but when you approach them she is nowhere to be found. You pull your luggage behind you as your shoulder bag decides to slide off.

Before it can hit the ground, it’s caught by the strap by a strong hand at the same time you reach out to grab it. You thank the kind stranger as you both stand to your full height and you are face-to-face with a grown-ass Nicholas Fowler. He says something and you don’t hear hide nor hair of what the hell he just said, you look at him and break into a smile and he chuckles and speaks again.

“I hope you don’t mind Dee got me to pick you up. She had some wedding stuff to do. I wasn’t listening,” he explains, adjusting his sunglasses and putting your bag on his shoulder. He gestures over to his black Lamborghini Urus. 

Once you walk over, he puts your shoulder bag in the back seat. You step closer to him to hand him your rolling luggage. You are mesmerized as his strong forearms flex when he puts everything in the SUV. 

You clear your throat and look around when he looks back at you, catching you watching him. He closes the back door and guides you to the passenger side, opening your door for you.

“Oh, you’re a full-service driver today, huh?” you joke, stepping past him. Your platform espadrilles clacking on the asphalt. Adjusting your strapless sundress, you climb in.

“Whatever service you require, Gumdrop,” he replies with a smile, making sure you are comfortable before closing your door.

That fucking nickname… He would call you gumdrop instead of your name more often than not. That’s all, he didn’t mean anything by it, right?

When you are both buckled in, you start the drive across the island. Comfortable conversation is easy between you two. It’s like you fall back into a safe space with him. You talk about old vacations, funny moments, and what you both are up to these days. Neither of you mentions either of your failed relationships and you can’t keep the smile off of your face.

“Hey, we still have an hour until check-in. You wanna grab a bite or go to the beach or something?” he suggests.

“Are you sure they’re not waiting for us?” you counter, wondering if it’s a good idea to have a little moment with Nick all to yourself.

“I’d rather ask for forgiveness than permission. No pressure, just a suggestion,” he presses, taking a second to look over at you and smile that smile that has had you in a chokehold most of your life.

After thinking about it for all of five seconds, you agree to have lunch at Plum Pointe Kitchen. You enjoy a generous helping of Drunken Chicken nachos while Nick gets the VooDoo Shrimp PO’Boy. You share half of your meal, and Nick refuses to let you pay for anything.

Making your way to the Ocracoke Harbor Inn after lunch, you finally meet up with everyone. Dee is in mid-conversation with someone when she sees you and Nick pull up into the parking lot. She walks over to you and pulls you into a very tight embrace. It’s like everything was chaos before you got here.

“Oh my goodness, I am so glad you are here. How was the trip? Did you eat? Did Nick bore you? I’m sorry that I couldn’t come and meet you, but we had a little mishap with the reservation for the hotel and then I thought I left my wedding dress at home, and then we–”

You cut off Dee before she can work herself into a frenzy again, “Dee! Breathe. You’re gonna be fine, I promise. And is that Matthew? Introduce me already, would you?” you encourage, trying to get your friend’s mind off of the previous debacle and onto the man walking over.

Dee introduces you to Matthew and he charms you with the way he dotes on Dee. He seems like the type to be able to handle her rambling and intense emotions. How he looks at her while she speaks makes you miss having someone look at you like that.

“Well, it’s just about 3 o’clock now. Let’s get checked in and settled, then we can get together later?” Matthew chimes in.

“Sounds good,” Nick agrees, turning to you, “Go ahead and leave your stuff in my car. I’ll take you to your cottage after we are all checked in.” You nod, trying to hide your excitement. 

Once you are done with the receptionist, you get your key and the wifi password to your cottage. While waiting for everyone else to get done, you fiddle on your phone until Nick’s shadow looms over you. Looking up, you are greeted with his eyes no longer shielded by his sunglasses in the dim lobby.

“You ready, Gumdrop? We still have some time before Mom and Dad show up. And I think I remember Dee saying she would call when she was ready to go out,” he concludes, putting his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was nervous about something. But you don’t push.

“All set,” you say, smiling up at him feeling bold enough to wrap your arm around his while you walk out of the lobby.

Dee shouts after you to behave yourselves and tense up a bit while Nick chuckles, seemingly amused by his sister’s thinly veiled comment on two single adults being close. Damn them.

Nick opens the passenger side door for you again, closing it once you are safely inside. He drives to the Margaritaville Cottage where he will stay with his parents during the trip. He instructs you to stay in the car while he just drops his bags off and is back outside in a few minutes.

The next stop is your cottage, called the Treasure Chest. You snicker at the name, thinking it sounded more like a pirate-themed strip joint. When Nick asks what you’re laughing about, you tell him your thoughts on the name of where you are staying. The slow smile that spreads on his face makes you involuntarily clench your thighs, wondering what his days-old stubble would feel like between your legs.

He tilts his head just slightly at you, then turns back to the road, smile still intact. Luckily the drive is short as the cottages are fairly close to one another. Nick parks in the driveway and you both get out and stretch your legs. He comes around and grabs your shoulder bag and luggage, motioning for you to lead the way.

Walking up the steps to the door, you unlock it and are welcomed by the scent of fresh linen. The central air of the cottage is just this side of perfect and you drop your purse on the dining room table. Turning around, you see Nick walking into a room off of the living room.

“Holy shit, you got a King-sized bed,” he shouts from the bedroom.

Walking in, you sit at the foot of the bed next to Nick and start to untie your shoes. He follows suit and turns to you biting his lip, a question at the tip of his tongue.

Facing him, you ask, “What? Do I have something on my face?” 

“No. I, uh...I’m surprised you haven’t asked yet,” he notes. At your confusion, he holds up his left ring finger. A band of untanned skin around the base clues you in that he’s talking about his divorce.

“Nicky, I would never make you talk about it. It can’t be easy in that situation. I mean, I only broke up with Curtis a few months ago and we were only together for six months. I couldn’t imagine how a divorce feels after how long you and Tori were together,” you insist, placing a hand on his knee.

He covers your hand with his and nods. “Mom and Dad are pretty good about it. They don’t ask me how I’m doing with that sad look in their eyes anymore. But Dee? Jesus, when I told her about the incident, she was out for blood. I had to end up calming her down. All because someone broke her big bro’s heart. Love her, but she can get a little carried away,” he finishes.

“This is not to make you feel like you need to share, but you mentioned “the incident” and now I’m curious. Feel free to tell me to shut the fuck up. But I caught Curtis with his tongue down another woman’s throat. I don’t know for sure how long it had been going on or if they had done anything else together, but I knew at that moment that I was done. I am worth more than that. And so are you, Nicky,” you encourage, feeling a bit of weight lift off your shoulders after finally talking about your breakup.

“My situation was similar. Tori had been cheating on me for the last two years of our marriage with her boss. I had a feeling something was up, just didn’t want to believe it was something like this,” he reveals, continuing, “But I am moving on, so to speak. I’m not holding out anymore for her to come crawling back to me with a sad story and all that. Even though I hope that she falls in a sinkhole.”

You both laugh and continue talking, taking your minds off of your breakups. You reminisce about all of the times you’ve stayed on the island during vacations. You giggle over dumb stories of you all as teens in high school, hiding weed from your parents and drinking on the beach til it was time to sneak back into the hotel.

You get an idea and you tell Nick to give you a minute before you go back into the living room to retrieve your purse. Coming back into the bedroom, you pull out a vape pen and wiggle it in front of Nick’s face, a devilish smirk on your lips.

“We’ll just take one hit each and we will be fine. Just a bit more mellow,” you offer, pulling him to the balcony off of the living room. You each occupy a wicker chair and you hand over the device.

“Gumdrop, you little devil,” he takes the pen from you and inhales, closing his eyes and holding the smoke in his lungs before letting it out. The smoke dissipates quickly and you can see the weight lift off of his shoulders. Handing it back to you, he exhales loudly and leans back in his chair.

Putting the tip in your mouth, you hit the button and inhale. Warm vapor fills you and you release the button, holding in the smoke for a beat and then letting it out toward the sky. You put the pen down on the table between you and fold your legs under you, letting your dress cascade down.

Sitting in companionable silence with Nick feels great. Neither of you feels the need to talk while you listen to the sounds of nature around you. People walking around the cottages, cars driving by, and the distant waves from Pamlico Sound make you wish you had gone to the beach earlier.

“Fuck, that was only one hit and I feel like my bones are made of jelly,” you remark, swaying to a song that isn’t playing with your eyes closed.

Nick looks over to you and smiles, “Must be jelly ‘cause jam don’t shake like that.”

You open your eyes and turn to him, your mouth twitches before you break out into uncontrollable laughter. Nick soon follows and you both are taken over by the giggles. You settle down soon enough, still feeling the buzzing calmness of being high.

“The world needs more people like you,” you beam.

“Nah, I like being unique,” he replies, his phone chiming. Picking up a video call from Dee, “Hey Sis.”

“Hey, me and Matt were gonna go for dinner and drinks, you in?” she asks.

“Yeah, that sounds...good,” Nick answers for himself while looking at you to get your answer.

“Ok, well get ready and meet us at Oyster Company. And tell my best friend that she is coming, no ifs, ands, or buts. See you both soon!” With that, she ends the call.

“So...our decision has been made for us. Do you need to change or anything?” Nick wonders, gesturing to your traveling attire.

“If I take this dress off, I am not going out. Besides, I like this dress. I think I look positively adorable. But I will change my shoes to something more comfortable,” you finish before Nick can comment on how he also likes your dress. You pick up the vape pen, make your way back to your luggage, and pull out some flat sandals.

Once you are ready, you make your way back outside and are surprised to see Dee and Matt parked on the street outside of your cottage. “We decided to pick you up. Matt is DD tonight, so we can all get a little loosey-goosey. Plus, I can always tell when Nick is high, so get in losers!”

Nick snorts, and you are mortified to be found out, but you quickly get over it once you are in the backseat of Matt’s Audi Q4. The short ride to the restaurant was spent with Nick’s left leg brushing against your right leg. He was either manspreading or he wanted to touch you and wanted to keep it under the radar.

Either way, you were excited to feel his warmth next to you.

When you make it to the restaurant, you sit at a high table and it almost feels like a double date. Especially when your waitress congratulates Dee and Matt on their wedding while remarking that you and Nick make a cute couple as well. Your face warms up and you suddenly feel like every eye is on you. 

Nick comes to your rescue, answering the waitress with a smile, “My girl’s a bit shy, is all. Can we get a pitcher of beer for the table to start? And also two shots of Crown Royal Vanilla for me and the little lady. Thanks.”

If it was possible, you would have melted through the floor and evaporated, but instead, you just hide behind the menu until Nick pokes his head in.

“That wasn’t to embarrass you, I swear. But I got nervous that she was gonna try and flirt with me, so I dragged you under the proverbial bus with me,” he admits, his lopsided smile only making you want him more.

“Fine. You’ll just have to make it up to me,” you warn, a devious grin appearing on your face. 

You put down your menu just as the waitress comes back with the drinks. Taking both shots, you hand one to Nick. Staring in each other’s eyes, you clink your shot glasses and then tap them on the table before taking the shot. The sweet burn of the liquor warms you from within while Nick’s eyes on you melt whatever nerves you had previously.

A cleared throat breaks your trance, your focus changing from Nick to Dee.

“I talked to Mom and Dad and they won’t get here ‘til Friday afternoon with the rest of the guests. Dad said he had a few things to take care of and not to worry. Of course, I worry tenfold because he told me not to,” Dee interjects, busying herself with pouring beer into her frosted glass.

“Baby, they’ll be here as soon as they can. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about anything,” Matt insists, moving a strand of hair away from Dee’s face before kissing her.

“Promise to keep me occupied?” she requests, a sinful smile on her face.

“I do,” he jokes, clearly proud of himself for making his fiancée blush.

“First of all, how dare you? Secondly, that was almost too cute so watch yourself,” she laughs.

You roll your eyes at the happy couple and smile, going back to looking over the menu. The waitress comes back to the table and takes your orders. Over the meal, you get to know Matt a bit more and you can see how Dee fell in love with him. He’s intelligent, funny, and charismatic. The way he talks about and to her makes you so happy to know your friend found love.

When they turn to talk to each other, you and Nick spark up a conversation about work. He tells you what he can about working for the government, keeping the specific details to himself. You regale him with stories of your time as a freelance writer. You’ve written for dozens of publications, but you just want to get your original works out there for people to enjoy. 

After mentioning a few pieces you wrote for GQ, Nick expressed interest in reading your articles. You try and downplay your skills, but he presses you for the links. Taking out your phone, you realize that you don’t have his number. 

While you exchange digits with Nick, you are too busy to notice Dee casting a sidelong glance and smiling to herself. You ramble on as you send him link after link of some of your favorites. With your face in your phone, you don’t notice the way Nick looks at you with a mix of pride and hunger.

“Well, I am ready to call it a night,” Dee yawns, getting everyone’s attention, “But I could use a nightcap. Who’s up for a trip to the ABC Store? We can make it before they close.”

Everyone agrees and after the check is paid, you all pile into Matt’s SUV for the quick drive to the liquor store. You browse the aisles for a bit by yourself. Filling up your basket with a bottle of wine, some whiskey, and a six-pack of hard seltzers, you surmise that this will sustain you for the week ahead and go in search of the others.

You find Nick in front of the beer cooler, hard at work trying to decide between a 12-pack of Sam Adams’ Cold Snap and Harpoon’s Long Thaw. You suggest he get both and he agrees.

Meeting Dee and Matt up at the front of the store, you stand next to Nick in line and he laughs at the contents of your shopping basket. He puts his beer up for the cashier to scan and has you do the same, paying for your items. 

A little piece of you feels taken care of and you thank him while continuing to tell him he doesn’t have to. He just shushes you and says you can make it up to him later. Before your mind can think about what that might entail, the sale is rung and bagged. Nick picks up the beer and you grab the bag of your things.

Nick asks Matt to just drop him off at your cottage since he left his car there. His cottage is literally next door, but you’re not exactly gonna deny yourself the company. Dee and Matt drive away and you turn back to Nick. You both laugh nervously and you surprise yourself by speaking up.

“So, um. I was gonna have a weed and whiskey moment to myself, but I’d be willing to share if you’re interested,” you hint, watching as he weighs his options. 

“Lead the way, Gumdrop,” he replies.

He follows you in, closing the door behind him. He puts his beer into the fridge along with your hard seltzer. You put the wine on the counter and take out the whiskey while Nick finds two short glasses in the cabinet. Pouring a generous amount in each one, he offers you a drink and you take a sip of the amber liquid. 

Letting the whiskey sit in your mouth, you savor the hints of vanilla and spice. You reach in your purse for your vape pen and take a hit of it before offering it to Nick. Taking a long pull off of the pen, he exhales and you watch as his shoulders relax. You both take another sip of whiskey and revel in the dual flavors of the weed and whiskey.

You take your glass and the bottle, moving onto the patio off of the living room, and sit down in one of the wicker chairs while Nick takes the other. The conversation comes easily enough. Mostly high thoughts and random memories come to mind. After a while, you put on some music and when 6 Underground by Sneaker Pimps comes on, you can’t help but dance in your chair.

Nick stares while you close your eyes and move your hands to the trip-hop classic. You spend the entire song moving to the downtempo beat and enjoying your crossfade. The trance you were under slowly dissipates as the song ends and Pendulum by FKA Twigs starts.

When you open your eyes, Nick is pulling you to stand up. You’re lost as to what he is doing until his hands go to yours, pulling them to rest around his neck while he holds your hips. As the song continues, you follow his slow lead and sway to the intimate and mesmerizing indie hit.

🎶

You're younger than I am broken

I dance feelings like they're spoken

So my conversation's not enough

So lonely trying to be yours

Running through sliding doors

So lonely trying to be yours

When you're looking for so much more

🎶

By the time the song ends, the heat between you is unmistakable. Your hand tangles in his hair when he pulls you impossibly closer. Mere centimeters separate your lips. All you would need is to lean just one step closer and you’d finally get to taste his kiss.

Nick beats you to it and his hands pull your face to his, crashing your lips together. You can’t hold back the moan that escapes your lips and he swallows it adding in his own grunts and groans. Kiss after kiss, you radiate carnality and passion. 

Breaking the kiss, you watch as he licks his puffy bottom lip. You take in a breath of air and prepare to dive back in but Nick voices his thoughts.

“You are gonna be the death of me, Gumdrop,” he sighs, and at your brows furrowing he continues, “You’ve only been back in my life for a day and I’m already thinking of ways to keep you in it. Don’t hate me, but I think we should chill out, just for tonight. I swear, if you still want this by tomorrow night, I am all yours. But you better be all mine. Please, tell me you can wait for me?”

“Tomorrow night and you’re all mine?” you plead, and he nods.

“Less than 24 hours, baby. Show me that these feelings aren’t just from the substances in our system,” he insists, and you wanna fuck him even more now after he says that.

You nod and he speaks up, “Need to hear your words, baby, like a big girl.”

“Fuck...yes, I can wait. I can wait for you, Nicky,” you whimper and he rests his forehead against yours. 

“That’s my good girl,” he praises, lifting his head from yours, “Now, why don’t we call it a night before I go back on my word? You look so good in this dress and I really wanna be good.”

Agreeing with him, you clean up your empty glasses and move the bottle to the counter next to the wine. Nick pulls you into him one last time, snaking a hand down to your ass and grabbing a hefty portion of it before a hardy slap lands on your left cheek. He only snickers at your yelp and nibbles on your bottom lip. 

“Keep that same energy for me because tomorrow I’m not holding back,” he vows, and if you weren’t leaning into him, your legs would’ve surely buckled. If he notices the tremble go through your body, he makes no mention of it and for that you are grateful.

“Goodnight, Nicky,” you hum.

“Sleep tight, Gumdrop. And do me a favor?” he challenges, at your nod he continues, “Save it for me. I’m gonna take care of you tomorrow, so no need to touch that kitty tonight, right?”

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, “Right.”

He leaves and once the door is closed, you lean back against it, your hand going to your neck where your pulse is playing a sick beat against your skin.

Less than 24 hours, you think. You got this.

That night, you dream of grayish-blue eyes and large hands roaming your body.

January 21st, 2024 – Day Two 

You wake just before 10:30 am and are greeted with a good morning text from Nick. He lets you know that he is taking you out, just the two of you. Since Dee and Matt are enjoying a couple’s spa package, he figures it would only be right to hit some of your favorite places on the island.

You are dressed and out the door by noon. Nick takes you to pick up lunch at Taqueria 504 Suazo’s and you drive out to rent a Jeep Gladiator at for a few hours to drive on the beach. One of the best things about this island is that everything is so close. After 5 minutes, you are at your destination. 

Nick drives out a ways past the other people enjoying the off-season and stops about a minute after the last two fishermen you see. Guess he wanted a secluded spot, you think to yourself. While you get the food, Nick grabs the beach chairs and umbrella that he rented. The ocean breeze is agreeable enough, but you are glad that you brought a thin sweater to keep the chill off.

Once you sit down, you hand over Nick’s food and he digs into his burrito while you munch on your fish tacos. When your meal is finished, Nick puts your leftovers in the Gladiator and lets down the truck bed. He beckons you over and helps you sit on the edge and he climbs up and sits next to you while you both look at the water.

“Ya know, the last time we came out here I was just finishing my third year at Virginia Tech. You and Dee were seniors. I remember hoping upon hope that you would apply to VT and I remember you telling me you were accepting a scholarship from Princeton. I just sucked it up and congratulated you. Even though I was hoping you would understand why I wanted you close, I was so proud of you for venturing off on your own. You were always one to go after what you wanted. I just couldn’t stop wanting to be what you wanted,” he confesses, looking off into the water.

“I wanted you, Nicky. Trust me, I did. But I was so afraid that I had a dumb little crush on someone who would never see me as someone other than his little sister’s best friend. The last time I saw you, I thought it was right to push away the idea of you ever having feelings for me. I also may have been afraid of what Dee would say. She’s kind of protective over both of us, ya know?” you finish.

“That girl can be a vicious little thing when she wants to,” he chuckles, shaking his head, “But don’t you think it’s kind of a sign that she had me pick you up from the ferry? And how suddenly today, we have a free schedule to do whatever we want together? I know my sister, and she’s done this before. She matched me up with my high school girlfriend, Beth.”

“Ugh, Beth with the braces and bangs. I used to call her Triple B behind your back. I hated her so much,” you mutter, trying to push the image of them kissing out of your mind.

“Yeah, well. I knew you hated her, but me being an idiot teenager didn’t exactly know that meant you liked me. I just thought you didn’t like her because she was kind of a bitch. She was plenty nice to me, but she could be...a little scary, at times,” he laughs, surprising himself.

“So...you think Dee would be ok with...this?” you say, gesturing between the two of you.

“I just think there is no way she would let us be alone together if she wasn’t halfway hoping it would work out,” he guesses, “Plus, honestly? We’re adults. We’re allowed to go after what makes us happy.”

A slow smile spreads across your face and you pull Nick in for a kiss. You don’t want to jinx it but he makes you happy too. The way he looks at you like you hung the moon, the way he listens to you and asks questions and the way he kisses you? 

It just has to be real.

Packing up your beach equipment, you head back to drop off everything. Getting back into his SUV, you head around the island and view some of the sights. You go shopping and pick up some new knick knacks to take home. Visiting the lighthouse, you take some photos and make sure to bring Dee and Matt here before you leave the island.

Since most of the island’s restaurants are closed on Sundays, you venture to Ocracoke Variety Store and opt for cooking dinner together. After you have all the ingredients you need for a simple fish fry, you head back to your cottage and you and Nick get your hands dirty.

You have him cutting up potatoes for steak fries while you are preparing the batter for the fish. When dinner is ready, you sit at the dining room table with soft music playing in the background. While Nick wanted to take you out for your first date, he could appreciate the quiet setting with just the two of you enjoying each other’s company.

Finishing your meal, Nick takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. You smile and warmth radiates in your cheeks. You hate to admit it, but you wish you had a little liquid courage right now. But the nerves you feel only cement that this is happening.

He pulls you up from your seat, the hunger in his eyes evident from his blown-wide pupils. Leading you into the bedroom, he stops just short of the end of the bed. Standing behind you as you face the bed, he runs his hands down your bare arms and whispers in your ear.

“I cannot wait to take you apart, Gumdrop. But,” he starts, turning you around to face him, “First, I just want to take my time and worship this beautiful body I know you’re hiding from me.”

If he wasn’t holding you up, you would have melted into the carpet. But he’s there with firm hands and a gentle grip. Helping you out of your dress, he lays it on the chair in the corner. Coming back, he admires the white lace bra and panty set that accentuates your body shape.

His lips come back to yours, tasting your desire and wantonness with every kiss. Wrapping an arm around you, he guides you to lay back on the bed while maintaining the liplock. He kisses down your neck and across your collarbone while his hand unclasps your bra and removes it from your body.

Laying a kiss between your breasts draws a quick inhale from you. You can tell he’s proud of himself when he looks up at you while he licks one pert nipple, the other between his thumb and forefinger. He sucks on it as if he could siphon gold from your tits. Switching to the other, he gives it the same attention. 

The noises that come from him as he plays with your breasts are enough to make you shiver. He whimpers when you moan and throw your head back. He groans when he kisses down your belly, stopping to look up at you before he plants a quick kiss upon your covered mound.

He pulls down your panties at such an agonizing speed. Nick has to squeeze his dick through his pants when a string of your wetness stretches from your pussy to your underwear. Spreading your legs apart, he feasts on the view of your lips opening like a flower before him.

He wanted to go slow, he really did. But once he flattens his tongue and licks up from your entrance to your swollen nub, he is mesmerized by the taste of you. He goes back and forth between sucking on your button and lapping up whatever nectar drips from you. You can feel yourself inching toward the finish line, and he is right there to talk you through it.

“Fuck...you taste like Heaven...that’s right, baby...let go and cum for me like a good girl,” he commands between licks and kisses.

You’re nothing if not a good listener and seconds later, your walls are clamping around his fingers. You’ve never cum like this before and it washes over you like a warm waterfall. He removes his fingers from your wet opening and sucks them clean before moving up the bed to kiss you.

Tasting yourself on his tongue, you are beyond turned on. You tug at the hem of his shirt and he sits up to pull it off. Running your hands over his chest, you pull at the button of his pants.

“Use your words,” he urges, his hands stopping yours from moving further.

“Need to feel you, Nick. Please fuck me,” you beg, all thoughts gone from your head.

“There’s my good girl,” he replies, standing up from the bed to undress fully. Climbing back on the bed, he kneels between your legs. He strokes himself slowly, eight inches of uncut cock staring you in the face. He squeezes the base and you can tell he is just as excited as you are.

You crook a finger at him and once again, he is on top of you. With nothing between you, you’re impossibly close and you only want to get closer. Your hand soon finds his erection and he hisses at the contact, groaning when you stroke him.

He leans on one forearm while his other hand guides his tip between your lips, gathering some of your slick before entering you. You both groan loudly once he is fully settled inside you. 

“You good, baby?” he asks, anxious to start moving his hips.

“God, yes. Fuck me, Nicky,” you plead, feeling so full when you arch your back.

Foregoing words, Nick retracts his hips and thrusts into you. The wet squelch as he fucks you is music to your ears, just like the way he tells you how beautiful you are in between kisses. He uses your breasts as handholds while he pummels your snatch.

The way he looks into your eyes while he plunges inside you excites you so much that you don’t even notice when a tear escapes your eye. He kisses it away, trailing his lips to your neck where he sucks at your pulse point. At this point, you couldn't care less about a hickey. You just want to be his.

Your next orgasm surprises you and you squeeze his cock from the inside, coating him in your cream. 

“Good girl, coming all over my fucking dick. Feels so fucking good when you tighten around me like that. You are taking me so well, Gumdrop. Yes. You. Are,” he grunts, punctuating the last three words with deep thrusts inside you.

Flipping you over so you are on top, Nick grabs your hips and you start to ride him. You bounce on his cock like it’s the last time you get to fuck. By the mewls coming from him, you are doing it just right.

You feel another climax on its way, slowly building up in your core. Nick swats your hand away when you go to rub your clit. He licks his thumb and massages your neglected pearl until you are unable to hold it in any longer. The dual stimulation is too much and you gush, soaking Nick’s abdomen and your thighs.

“Oh fuck, baby. Such a good fucking girl for me. You must want my cum inside you with the way you’re...riding my dick. Shit, baby, I’m gonna blow. Where do you want it, baby?” he asks, you reply by doubling down on your hip motions.

“Right there, Nicky. Cum inside me, please,” you implore breathlessly.

“Yes, baby. Gonna cum for you, gonna fill you up so good. Ugh, fuck, here it comes,” he whimpers, his hold on your hips so tight to keep you close to him. 

You feel every twitch of his cock, his muscles pulling taut across his arms and chest as he floods your canal. Your name on his lips as he comes down is a badge of honor. Yes, you did that shit.

He pulls you down to kiss him, shallow thrusts keeping him semi-hard before he pulls out. He lays you down next to him, cuddling you close and kissing your forehead. You start to fall asleep but you can feel Nick moving off the bed. Your hand shoots out to grab for him, but he shushes you.

He goes into the bathroom and you hear the faucet running before he comes out with a wet washcloth. Wiping down your sensitive folds, he takes care of you so well. Putting the washcloth back in the bathroom, he comes back and helps you get under the covers and he snuggles in with you.

With your arms and legs entangled in one another, you drift off peacefully.

January 22nd – January 26th 2024 

The days before the wedding are spent enjoying the island with Nick, Dee, and Matt before the other guests arrive. More than once, Dee has cornered both you and Nick, asking embarrassing questions. You both say nothing, feigning ignorance even though Nick has moved into your cottage over the week, abandoning the cottage that he was supposed to share with his parents.

That being said, once his parents do finally make it to the island, he doesn’t even try and act like he isn’t staying with you. The smile on his father’s face says it all, he approves. His mother is far too preoccupied with getting everyone together for the wedding rehearsal to notice anything. 

That is until she catches you and Nick making heart eyes at each other as you stand in for the Bride and Groom in rehearsal. Yes, it was a bit too soon to be playing Wedding Day with a man whose divorce is less than 100 days old.

But when you know, you know.

At dinner, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and you don’t notice Nick following after you. Before you can enter the ladies’ room, a hand on your arm pulls you into the nearby gender-neutral bathroom.

You turn around and are met with hungry eyes before he descends upon you. Turning you around to face the mirror, he puts your hands on the sink and sinks to his knees, his hands roaming under your dress and up your legs until he pulls down your panties. He pulls out his already hard dick and pumps himself a few times before sliding inside you.

“Don’t fucking move, baby. Keep looking at yourself in the mirror, and your hands stay right where they are. You thought you could get away with teasing me in this tight fucking dress,” he breathes, “I want you to watch yourself while I fuck you til you’re dripping for me like the good girl I know you can be.”

When he places his hands on your hips, he begins a steady pace. He watches you in the mirror as your orgasm takes you over without warning. You squeeze him, your walls fluttering and coaxing him to follow you when you cover him in your juices.

But he surprises you when he pulls out and pulls your panties back up. When you turn around to ask why, he only kisses you and whispers in your ear, “I’ll get mine later, don’t you worry.” That only fills you with a little dread, your legs still wobbly as Nick tucks himself away and straightens his outfit. “Can’t have them knowing I just got my dick wet, right baby? See you back out there.” 

He exits the bathroom and leaves you with slick running down your legs and your brain falling out of your ears. And he’s worried about you being the death of him?

You straighten yourself and use the bathroom for its intended purpose. Once back in the banquet hall, you pray to any god who will listen that you don’t look like you just got some dick. You see Nick and Matt in a conversation like he’d been here the whole time. When Dee asks why you look flustered, you lie and say you’re just a bit tired.

Nick overhears you talking to Dee and interjects himself into the conversation, “Why don’t we go get some fresh air? Don’t worry, Sis, I’ll take care of her.” Helping you out of your chair, you both say goodnight to those at dinner.

Nick takes you back to the cottage, pulling you behind him as he walks out onto the balcony. Crashing his lips to yours, his hands scrunch up the fabric of your dress until you feel the night air chill your skin. 

“Hands on the railing, baby,” he says, peeling your soaked panties from you.

Nick’s pushing inside you in the next breath and it’s like he belonged there all along. Holding onto your hips, he begins his onslaught. All you can do is hold yourself up and be happy that no one is walking down this road because fuck they would be able to see you getting absolutely railed without abandon.

Your grip on the railing is faltering as he slams into you and he takes pity on you. He uses the grip on your hips to pull you back so you sit on his lap while he sits in the wicker chair. He moves you up and down on his dick while saying the filthiest things to you.

Once your climax hits, his pace falters and he thrusts up into you. His tip hits your cervix as he pumps you full. He holds you against him and kisses up your neck as you lay back on his chest. For a few moments, all you both can do is breathe and caress each other.

His dick slips free of you and you feel his load dripping from your thoroughly used hole. 

“Come with me back to Virginia,” he whispers, surprising both of you, “Don’t say no just yet. Think about it. We don’t leave for a couple of days. I have not been this happy in a very long while and I think I make you happy too. Just think about it, Gumdrop.”

A million things go through your head at the thought of giving up your life in New Jersey. This was a big step after only a week of playing house. Your brain comes up with so many what-ifs and reasons to not leap. But then one thought sticks, and you smile.

When you know, you know.

January 27th, 2024 – Wedding Day

You were never a big crier, but you shed many tears watching your childhood best friend marry the love of her life. It fills you with hope that everything does happen for a reason. While listening to their vows, you wonder if you could ever make that type of commitment. At that moment, Nick squeezes your hand and you smile up at him. Like he could read your mind, he seems to always know what to do to give you comfort.

Then again, he has known you most of his life. And when you think about it, it has always been him. A distant memory replays in your head of him simply putting a band-aid on your skinned knee when you were nine and he was twelve. Even then, he was there for you with a smile and a friendly hug.

The wedding reception is an all-out party but you expect nothing less from the Fowlers. The music, the food, and the atmosphere are perfect. Dee enjoys herself and is just happy to be married to Matt. And you are so happy for her, to see her without a care in the world. 

Nick focuses on you the entire night, making sure you are comfortable and that you have everything you need. You sit in his lap, effectively confirming any rumors that may have spread about you two. His hand on your knee is warm and you want to sneak out of here and take him to the nearest closet. But he doesn’t let you move an inch once he has you in his clutches.

The wedding photographer snaps a pic of you squealing when Nick plants a sloppy kiss on your cheek. The guests around you simultaneously swoon and groan, depending on their relationship status. Not that you care, you had your man. That’s all that matters.

After the wedding, you and Nick sneak off to a secluded area of the beach to look up at the stars. Taking off your shoes, you don’t mind the sand between your toes. You spend most of the night on the beach, just enjoying each other’s company under the moon. 

You are lucky enough to see a few shooting stars, and you can’t stop yourself from making a wish or two. Wondering if Nick made a wish, you open your mouth to ask him but close it just as quickly. You know his wish already and only you could make it come true.

Coming back to the cottage is bittersweet. The last night of your vacation is spent lying naked with Nick. No sex, just intimate cuddling. You loved how safe you felt in his arms, and you couldn’t deny yourself this feeling.

January 28th, 2024

You’re nervous all morning and Nick tries his best to keep your mind off leaving the island. But all you want to do is spend all day in bed with him.

Saying goodbye to Dee that day is full of teary-eyed hand-holding, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You hug her mother and father and thank them for inviting you. 

Nick drives you to the ferry, thinking for all the world that this is the last time he will see you. But like you continue to do, you surprise him when he’s helping you with your bags.

“So, I have some things to clear up in Jersey, but I was thinking Valentine’s Day is just a couple of weeks away. You can come to my place and we can spend some time together. I may not be ready to move 7 hours away just yet. But I know that I am not ready to be without you. I want you to know that I want this, whatever this is,” you admit, gesturing between the two of you.

“I can be amenable to that. On one condition,” he offers, taking your hands in his.

“And what is that one condition, Nicky?” you press, wondering what else he could want or if your terms weren’t enough.

“When we are with each other again, I get to call you my girl. That’s it. Be mine, and all that?” he laughs, watching as the frown lines on your forehead disappear and a smile grows on your face.

“You had me for a second, Nicky. But, why wait? I’m all yours already. Plus, I’ve already planted my flag in your back pocket,” you tease, snaking your hand around to goose him.

“So that would make me your man, then? And you’re my girl. Makes me wanna ask what made you decide to try this with me?” he hesitates, half wanting an answer and the other half just happy that you said yes.

“Hey, like I always say,” you start, wrapping your arms around his neck, “When you know, you know.”

END…?

A/N: All of the places in this story are real, this is not an advertisement for Ocracoke Island, NC btw. I just loved vacationing here so much, that I wanted to use it in a story lol.

**Tag List** (since I never wrote for Nick, I didn't know who else to tag)

@gummydummy19 @blackwood4stucky

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

My BINGO Card:

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters #nick fowler #the 355 #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x you #nick fowler fanfiction #nick fowler smut #sebastianstan #seb stan #sebby stan #sebby baby #chubby dumpling #nick fowler x female reader #nick fowler x f!reader #nick fowler x fem!reader #nick fowler x y/n #nick fowler imagine #nick fowler fanfic #nick fowler fan fiction #nick fowler fan fic #nick fowler fic #nick fowler au #soft!nick fowler #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic

[beskarandblasters]

Looking Out For You

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Summary: You rarely help Din grab his bounties but this time is different. Din’s next bounty brings him to Coruscant to the Outlander Club where he might require your help…

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, established business relationship between you and Din, creepy guy at the club, fingering, vaginal sex, semi public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, slight degradation, possessiveness, jealousy

“No. Absolutely not,” Din says, folding his arms. 

“Aw come on. Why not??” you protest. 

“Do you really think I’m going to willingly put you in a dangerous situation?”

You sighed. Din just got his next bounty from Greef Karga. This time you were on Coruscant and you would be going to a nightclub. And not just any nightclub, the Outlander Club in the Uscu Entertainment District. The bounty is a bartender there so a Mandalorian in full beskar strolling in there would not be discreet. So you offered to lure the bounty away from the bar where Din would be waiting to strike. 

“Din, if you go in there your intentions are going to be extremely transparent. You need to go a more inconspicuous route,” you say shrugging.

He lets out a long, modulated sigh, sounding exasperated. 

“Fine, but I’m not happy about it,” he says, lowering the exit ramp of the Crest and stepping out onto the docking bay. 

“So… if we want to make this believable I’m going to need some clothes that are more believable,” you say, gesturing to your t-shirt, cargo pants and lace up boots. You know, clothes that don't really scream nightclub. 

“Alright, we’ll get you some new clothes. Let’s take a turbo lift down to the Lower Market District and see what’s there,” he says. 

He led you to the edge of the docking bay towards the turbo lift. You both step inside and start descending several levels, looking out at the vast sea of skyscrapers, people and speeders around you. You don’t know how you feel about Coruscant. It’s a marvel of technology and breathtaking at night. But it’s also overcrowded and full of nefarious activities right under the Republic’s nose. It’s a complicated place.

You reach your stop at the Lower Market Districts and step out of the turbo lift onto the busy street. The Lower Market Districts are full of people hustling, looking to make a quick credit, cutting deals and just trying to make ends meet. They sell just about everything here from clothes, creatures, and food down to illegal goods. There was even a droid spa. You and Din were weaving in and out of the different shops and stalls, looking for clothes and dodging aggressive salesmen. Finally you stumble upon a shop that sells women’s clothes. You gaze at the shop window, looking at all of the short skirts and dresses they sell. 

“I think this will do?” you say, turning to look at Din. 

“Whatever you want. I’ll wait out there but take these,” he says, handing you credits.

“Thanks. I won’t be too long,” you reply. 

He gives you a slight tip of the helmet and with that you walk towards the shop door. It automatically slides open and you step inside. You start to glance around at your options. They’re beautiful dresses for sure but nothing you’re used to wearing typically. The woman at the back counter looks up from the holo-pad in front of her and notices you.

“Ah hello miss! Is there anything I can help you find?”

“I’m just browsing but thank you,” you respond.

She comes out from behind the counter and steps towards you. 

“Shopping for any event in particular?”

You didn’t really know what to say. It’s not like you can tell her the truth; that you’re going to act as bait to help your bounty hunter partner. 

“Girl’s night out!,” you lie. 

“Well then let me show you our selections over here,” she says, leading you to a rack of clothes a little past the back counter. 

“I think you’ll find something here. Let me know if you need any help!” she says before returning to the counter. 

You thumb through the different dresses hanging up, mentally noting a few potential options until you find the dress. It’s a little short but that was to be expected. It has thin straps and gathers at the waist, fanning out slightly at the bottom. It’s the perfect color to compliment your eyes and your hair color. And it has pockets. You decide that you’ll get it and some strappy sandals you see on the shelf behind the rack. You go up to the counter to pay and the woman says “What great choice! This is definitely your color. Have fun tonight!” You give her a small wave as you leave and head outside to meet Din. 

“Ready?” he asks. You give him a nod and the two of you start walking back to the turbo lift. After the trip up the docking bay, you walk to the Crest and step inside to start getting ready. You hop in the refresher and do your hair and makeup. Once you’re ready you step out of the refresher to find Din holding a comlink. 

“Here-“ he starts before cutting himself off. You see the visor on his helmet trail up and down your form before snapping himself out of it and continuing his thought. “It’s a comlink. It’ll always be on. That way if something goes wrong I can come right to you,” he says, holding it out to you. 

“Thanks,” you say, slipping it into one of the dress pockets and feeling a blush creep to your cheeks. 

“Let’s go over a plan. You’re going to go into the club and head to the bar. His name is Maro. Order a drink from him and talk him up. Karga said there will be a shift change. After he gets off his shift lead him outside to the back alley where I’ll be waiting.”

“Sounds good. Are you ready to go?”

He nods and you head down the exit ramp and through the docking bay, making the same trek you made earlier except this trip would be longer to get to the Uscu Entertainment District. The journey was silent. You could feel the glare of Din’s visor practically burning a hole into you as he snuck quick glances at you. 

Finally you arrive at the Uscu Entertainment District. A seedy place full of people and neon lights. You start to feel nervous for a second. This type of place isn’t your typical scene but you know it’s only temporary; only to get the job done. 

Before you come upon the Outlander Club, Din stops you and places a hand on your shoulder. 

“You’ve got this. I’ll be in the back alley listening the whole time. As soon as you get him to the back alley I’ll take it from there.”

“Got it,” you nod, the braveness you were feeling before subsiding. 

He rounds the corner and you watch him disappear into the crowd. You take a deep and head towards the club, stopping to gaze at the sign above it written in Aurebesh. You go inside and it's an instant sensory overload. It’s packed full of people drinking, dancing, betting on pod-racing and grav-ball, and dealing drugs. You can feel the music vibrating every bone in your body. The smell of smoke and alcohol hangs heavily in the air. There’s a plethora of creatures of various species everywhere from workers and clubgoers. You spot the bar in the middle of the club and head there, dodging dancers and drunk people in the process. You hop up on one of the bar stools and scope out the bartenders. There’s two men. They’re both wearing name tags but they’re too far away for you to read them. One of them must’ve caught you squinting because he starts making his way towards you.

“Can I help you?” he asks.

You read his nametag, also written in Aurebesh. Maro. That’s him.

“Uh yeah. Can I get a Bespin Fizz?”

He looks down to the low cut top of your dress and then back up at you. Ew.

“Anything for a lovely lady like you. Be right back,” he says, with a wink.

Ugh. It’s going to be so hard to flirt with him. 

He comes back with your drink, a deep red color with a cloud of steam.

“Thanks,” you say, taking a sip.

“So, what does a pretty girl like you do in a place like this?”

“Uh, I was supposed to meet some friends but I think they bailed on me,” you lie.

“What a shame. If I had plans with you, I’d never bail.”

“You’re too kind,” you say. He doesn’t seem to react much answer so you turn up the charm.

“Let’s see how tonight goes and maybe we can make those plans happen,” you say, smirking before taking another sip of your drink.

“I like the sound of that. Tell me about yourself. What do you do?”

You give him a vague story about how you work as a mechanic at a docking bay here on Coruscant. At least it wasn’t a complete lie. He tells you about his life, born and raised here on Coruscant, just started working as a bartender a few months ago. It makes you wonder what he did before he started working here. Surely, something that warranted a bounty being placed on his head…

“I’ve had such a great time talking to you and I don’t want it to end. My shift is done in forty minutes if you want to take this elsewhere…” he says, an eerie tone to his voice. 

“Yeah sure,” you smile.

He smiles back at you and leaves to tend to other customers. You take a deep breath. It’ll all be okay. As soon as you get him to the alley Din will take over. 

You watch him mix drinks for other customers and every time he catches you looking at him, he smirks or winks at you. Ugh. You can’t wait for this to be over. You pass the time by ordering more drinks, figuring you’ll need off the alcohol you can get to get through this. You think about Din in the back alley, listening to all of this over the comlink. You wonder what he’s thinking. He was against this idea in the first place.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when you feel a presence behind you, whispering against your ear.

“Ready to leave, gorgeous?” Maro asks.

You were so lost in your thoughts you didn’t even notice him leave from behind the bar. 

“Sure, let me just pay.”

“Don’t worry about that. It’s all taken care of,” he says, placing a hand on your thigh.

“Thanks,” you say, hopping down from the stool. “Let’s get out of here.”

You walk to the front of the club and leave, with Maro slipping an arm around your waist; his hand getting dangerously low…

You start walking towards the corner you left Din at; the one that leads to the alley behind the club. You let him paw at you and squeeze your waist as you walk. Once you come upon the corner that leads to the alley you stop.

“You want to do it here?” Maro says, gesturing to the alley. “I’m not going to complain.”

You ignore his comment and grab his hand, leading him further down the dark alley and hoping to find Din soon. Without warning, he presses you against a building and starts making out with you. He’s annoying but at least he’s a good kisser. You feel his hand graze up your thigh and an involuntary moan slips out of your lips. He deepens the kiss more and grabs one of your hands and places it over the bulge over his pants. 

But before it can continue any further you hear the sound of something being knocked over. Both of you stop and search for the source of noise. You see a trash can by a dumpster lying on the ground. Still not comfortable enough to resume kissing, Maro scans the alley even more looking for the cause of the fallen trash can. Din steps out from the dumpster and before he can even pull out his blaster Maro is sprinting for his life away from you shouting about how he was set up. The kid was actually pretty fast. And Din was standing there doing nothing, not bothering to pursue him.

You turn to Din and shout, “What did you do that for?! We almost had him!”

He’s silent, taking a step towards you. You fold your arms over your chest. 

“Well?! Why did you do that?” you press further.

“...I was just looking out for you. I didn’t like where that was going.”

“You could’ve just grabbed him. I had him distracted.”

“I don’t care about the bounty anymore. Just you,” he says, taking another step towards you so that you’re pressed against the building again.

“Don’t you understand how hard that was; to listen to you two flirt with each other while I couldn’t do anything about it.”

He hand grazes up your thigh under your dress, getting close and closer to your center. His gloved fingers trace your warm sex, which was rapidly getting wet.

“I bet only I can make you wet like this,” he continues, parting your lips with his fingers and working circles around your clit. 

“Oh Din,” you moan. That drives him crazy.

“Yeah that’s it, mesh’la. Say my name.”

You moan his name again and spread your legs slightly. He takes the opportunity to plunge a finger inside you, pumping in and out. The skirt of your dress rides up more, leaving your thighs exposed. More small moans and whimpers slip out of you as he slides another finger in, applying pressure to that perfect spot inside you. Your orgasm washes over you as your pussy clenches and convulses around Din’s fingers. You feel the heat swell inside you as you come down from your orgasm. He pulls his fingers out of you and slips his cock out of his flight suit, already hard. He slides your juices from his hand up and down his cock. And in one swift motion he’s picking you up slightly, pressing you against the wall and sliding his cock inside you, splitting you apart. The sensation has you going fucking insane because you practically cry out Din’s name. 

“Better be quiet unless you want someone to catch us,” he growls before slamming into you once again.

You physically can’t make yourself be quiet. Your moans grow louder and louder, as he slams his hips against you, his cock practically hitting your cervix. 

“Din. Din please I can’t be quiet,” you moan against him and he relentlessly fucks you against the wall.

“I bet you watch someone to catch us you filthy girl. You want someone else to see how good you take my cock??”

You’ve never seen him like this at all. But you’re not complaining. He slams into you more as he drives his cock further and further into. You feel like you’re being split open at this point. But it feels so good. You’re entirely blissed out, getting drunk off the feeling of his hard cock pressed against your g-spot. Your moans are becoming incessant and it’s making Din absolutely feral. 

“You like that, mesh’la? You like when I pound you like this?”

All you can do is whine. One of his hands makes its way to your hair and you say, “Yes, Din. It’s so good. I’m getting close,” you moan, near tears at this point.

“Let me have it, mesh’la. Let me feel that pretty pussy cum on my cock.”

The combination of him saying that and his cock plowing into you sends you over the edge. You feel your entire lower half tense up and then release, sending you into pure euphoria as he continues to fuck you through it.

“That’s it. That’s my good girl. Ride it out for me.”

Your pussy flutters around Din’s cock, also sending him over the edge. His cock convulses before coating your inside in his warm release. He continues fucking you through it until he goes soft. He slides out of you and sets you back down the ground. And at this point you’re a sweaty, trembling mess.

You’re both silent for a moment, catching your breath and coming down from your high. You speak first, “Was someone jealous?” you say, a smirk evident in your voice. 

“He was trying to take what’s mine,” Din says, visor gazing down at you. “I couldn’t let that happen. I had to show you who you belong to.”

“But what about the bounty?”

“Who cares. We’ll just get another one from the guild…”

He’s silent again, gazing down at you before he whispers against your ear. “We’re never doing that again, understand? You’re mine and I’m never using you as bait again. This is for me and only me,” he says, hand gripping your chin.

“Y-yes, Din. Only you,” you say sliding the skirt of your dress back down. 

He grabs your hand and leads you out of the alley saying  “Come on, let’s go back to the Crest so you can be as loud as you want.”

You smile to yourself as you walk, excited to take his cock in multiple ways on the ship and sleep like a baby after.

End note: I had a lot of fun with this! Did y’all notice the drink from Star War’s Galaxy’s Edge in Disney? 👀 As always let me know your thoughts! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated. And send me any requests you have!

Tag list: @leithatnight @readingfan @harriedandharassed @babygirlrex0504 @dreamingofdaddydin @bearsbeetsbeskar

#din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x fem!reader #the mandalorian x female reader #the mandalorian x reader #mandalorian smut #din djarin imagine #din djarin smut #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #Star Wars #mandalorian imagine #mando x reader #mando x f!reader #din djarin fanfiction #no use of y/n #mando x you #mando x female reader #din djarin x f!reader #mandalorian x f!reader #mando x fem!reader #star wars fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

[introspectivememories]

shanks and buggy denden au where:

the crew kinda splits up in the 2 year gap before roger's death and in an effort to make sure their sons cabin boys are alright, rayleigh puts them on the ship denden plan

so their little apt in loguetown has two dendens, one in the living room and one in their bedroom

they use it all the time. to call oden and toki, to call spencer. even to call roger, hoping that he'll pick up. (he never does)

phone calls are nice but nothing beats talking face to face and visual dendens are on the market they're just super fuckin expensive and both shanks and buggy are saving up for one. it'll be nice to see momo amd hiyori again.

anyway the execution happens and then the loguetown breakup and they pack up their apt in complete silence, each of them taking one denden.

(it'll be a decade and a half before they see each other again.)

they both expect the phone plan to just get cancelled but one day the mail seagull comes to them with a denden bill. turns out, the pirates denden company just grandfathered them into the old plan.

and you know what? it's not like they have any money and this plan is cheaper than all the other plans the company offers so they keep it. they get two separate numbers for the both of them and they dont think about it.

they decided to alternate the months they paid after one very terse call. or that was the plan but shanks is sooo forgetful all the fucking time and he never pays his denden bill on time. it ends up being buggy paying 8 months out of the year and shanks paying the other 4

(benn ends up setting up auto pay 5 years into traveling with shanks. what? it's not like they're broke.)

anyway buggy ends up becoming the terror of the east blue and shanks goes onto become an emperor and still neither of them change their numbers. they don't have the heart to.

and it's not something they consciously think about but sometimes when buggy gets drunk enough, he'll pull out his old ass denden book and trace his fingers over shanks' number. and if shanks is drunk enough he'll get halfway through dialing buggy's number before his brain catches up to what he's doing and stopping

anyway skip to marineford, and shanks is giving buggy a ride back to his ship. when they finally arrive at the island buggy's ship was docked on, both crews decide to throw a "im so fucking glad we lived through that/ captain buggy's the greatest!" party

buggy desperately tries to avoid shanks and shanks is literally holding himself back from looking for buggy but the party goes on and they get drunker and eventually they gravitate towards each other.

bc of course they do. they were shanksandbuggy, buggyandshanks, long before they were part of their respective crews. so they both sneak away from the party and they end up in shanks' room, with shanks sitting on the bed and buggy on his lap, curled around each other.

it feels just like their apt all those years ago. all those quiet nights on their fourth-hand couch, that they spent curled together -- buggy reading a book and shanks quietly talking his ear off.

(it was easier then. those two years where they had an apt together and the air was still heavy with the scent of hope. it was smth to look forward to -- 2 years and then captain will come back and there will be new adventures!

shanks got a job at the docks and buggy tried at least 17 different jobs before settling at a bookstore. and he'd go to work early in the morning and come back late at night to buggy in his hoodie, making dinner, ranting about rude customers.

and on weekends they'd both sleep in and cook breakfast together. or well buggy would cook breakfast, shanks would sit on the countertops and make buggy laugh. and then they'd spend the day inside or go out to eat. and it was good. better than good even. shanks could almost see why people stayed on land.

and then the execution happens and their father's blood stains the cobblestones crimson red and they seperate and then just as quickly as it started, it ends.)

that's when buggy notices the denden.

🤡: you still have that thing? 🍶: yes of course 🤡: and your number is still the same? 🍶: ....yeah. you? 🤡: yeah, never changed it. 🍶: why'd you keep it all these years?

and buggy may be drunk and his inhibitions may be lowered but he's still buggy at heart so he gives some bullshit answer

🤡 looking away: it was cheaper

and shanks knows he's fucking lying bc it may have been years since he last saw buggy but who knows buggy better than he does? who knows shanks better than buggy does?

🍶: c'mon bugs, tell me the truth. why'd ya keep it all these years? 🤡 unwilling to give in first: why'd you keep it all these years? 🍶: because i kept hoping that you'd be on the other end.

and buggy is floored.

🤡: .... what? 🍶: i kept hoping that if i kept my number the same, you'd call one day. 🍶: i can't tell you how many times i've picked up the denden, hoping it was you on the other end. 🍶, laughing sadly: i kept it all these years because of you. and you never called, not once. 🍶, cupping 🤡 face with his hand: why'd you never call bugs?

shanks is tearing up and buggy has already started the waterworks

🤡, sniffling: you knew where i was. why didn't you ever come and see me? 🍶: can you honestly say that you would've seen me? you probably would've told me to leave. so i stayed away. 🤡 hitting 🍶on the chest: idiot! i probably would've called at some point if you had came to me. but you never did and i just took it as a sign that anything we had was done and over. 🍶, grabbing 🤡 hands and staring into his eyes: how could you ever think we'd be done and over? it's only ever been you for me. only you. 🤡, full on crying by this point: idiot, idiot, idiot!

they're both curled over each other sobbing into each other's shoulder bc they could've had this the entire time but they were too fucking stupid

🍶: why'd you keep the denden, bugs? 🤡: haven't you figured it out by now? it was the only thing i had left of you. 🍶: you're such a fuckin sap, bugs. 🤡, blushing: shut up

#anyway that's all i have for now! #anyway if you have any ideas about the denden au then feel free to add on! #uhh the dialogue is so shitty here #but i only had enough for an outline #the dialogue deity only comes to me when i have a proper story idea #the pirates have their own denden companies bc using the legal ones is how you get caught #and the denden seagulls are so fucking vicious if you miss a payment. persistent too. #anyway auto pay in this sense is that benn leaves a pouch of berries in the same place each time and the seagull just takes it #denden au #buggy the clown #buggy one piece #op buggy #akagami no shanks #shanks one piece #op shanks #shuggy #shanks x buggy #one piece

[rinixo]

cherry waves

Din Djarin/Reader | 3.1k | Rated E | afab reader, no y/n, sex pollen trope, description of illness, vaginal fingering, first time

In hindsight, that caf did taste a little off.

--

Non-linear oneshots featuring you, a university scholar from Naboo who is helping The Mandalorian seek out the Jedi.

read on ao3

The quiet murmur of the crowds were faint in the back of your mind as you sat underneath the shade near a small food stand. In front of you on the table were various datapads, and as you sipped on your caf your eyes darted from one to another, analyzing the information.

Off in the distance, The Mandalorian entertained the child by walking him past the various shops and stands. The baby had been distracting you from your current task, so the metal man had graciously pulled him away to ply his attention with shiny baubles and roasted skewers.

The market you were on wasn’t particularly large or well known, but it suited your needs well enough. The three of you needed to stretch your legs and breathe non-recycled air after a couple of weeks being cooped up in the Crest. Being able to stock up on some basic necessities was a plus, especially in a place where you were unlikely to be noticed or tracked by the various bounty hunters and imperial remnants out to find you.

However, supplies and fresh air were only second on your list of priorities. What you really needed, and what eventually led to you sitting there surrounded by datapads was a reliable Holonet connection.

A few days ago, you had approached Mando about your current progress on tracking down information on the Jedi Order. You had stockpiled terabytes of records and information prior to fleeing Naboo, which had been helpful, but could only get you so far.

“I need to cross-reference the variables against the network in order to extrapolate the most relevant data points and establish the locations with the highest likelihood of success,” you had explained. Mando had turned slightly in his seat, and you guessed that under that helmet he was frowning.

Smiling apologetically, you tapped your nails against the side of your datapad. You had the tendency to get too technical when it came to your passion. “I need a stable connection to the Holonet so I can plug in the info we know about the Jedi against recent mentions or sightings so I can narrow down where we should be looking.”

That seemed to make sense, so a few days later there you were, hooked up to the Holonet on some planet you had already forgotten the name of. For the past hour, you had been running the data, searching for info points on your keywords – ‘Jedi’, ‘laser sword’, ‘space magic’, etc – hoping to find something that would get you closer to your goal.

A while later, your search had yielded a half dozen promising leads. Pleased, you shut off your data pads and began to pack up your items up as Mando waltzed back over.

“Any luck?” He asked, and you nodded as you stood.

“Actually, yes. I found some relatively recent data that I think is worth investigating.” The two of you (and the baby, tucked away in his pouch at Mando’s side) began your short journey back to where the Razor Crest was docked while you continued to speak. “The New Republic has removed most of the Imperial censors on the ‘net, but a lot of the data on the Jedi has just been purged completely. It’s not so much that the information is censored at this point – rather, the information just doesn’t exist anymore. At least not in a format I can access.”

“But you found something?” Mando asked, and you detected a tinge of hope in the timbre of his voice.

Reaching into your pack, you pulled out one of your data pads and pulled up some coordinates. “Yes, several locations that have mention of information or remnants of Jedi history, and in some cases alleged sightings of actual Jedi.” Mando took the pad from you as you approached the Crest, climbing the ramp into the belly of the ship. “One of those places is just one jump away, actually.”

Mando handed the pad back to you, and began to head towards the cockpit. “Good job. We’ll start there.”

You set your things down among the recently re-stocked supply crates, hoping that turning your face away from the man was enough to hide the heat in your cheeks and the shine in your eye from the compliment. Your halfhearted attempt at dampening your crush on the armored man had failed, and your heart continued to race every time he praised you or brushed up against you.

You had acknowledged that Mando’s first priority would always be the child, which you respected and agreed with. You often wondered if the subtle hints you sent his way, in your body language and voice, made it through the beskar armor. He was still as stoic and unflappable as he was when you first met, but his replies had started to come easier and it felt like he would now go out of his way to spend time with you, instead of the wide berth he had given you half a year ago. Part of you knew that it was due in no small part to the trust the two of you had built, but the romantic in you also liked to wonder if it was something a little more.

A sharp pain in the back of your neck pulled you out of your wistful thinking, and you winced. Chalking it up to too much caf too quickly, you decided you finish putting your things away and take a nap. You didn’t want it to turn into a headache or migraine, and a nap was usually enough to stave such off.

 --

Several hours later, you remained awake in your cot, head aching and body burning. You had slept in fitful bursts until the burning under your skin forced your eyes back open to the low light of the hold where you lay. Sweat trickled across your skin, and you let out a low moan tinged with pain. You felt like your very blood was made molten, chugging sluggishly through your veins and pooling uncomfortably between your thighs. Every slight movement of your legs and your body sent shocks of sensation to your most sensitive nerve endings.

Hoisting yourself up with some difficulty, you shuffled slowly towards the refresher, thin tank sticking to your clammy skin. Pushing open the door, you gazed at your reflection in the mirror, someone you had a hard time recognizing staring back. Your skin was slick with sweat, your pupils blown dark and wide. With a shaking hand, you turned on the water and tried to relieve some of your pain by splashing it across your face. It did nothing to help, and merely splashed your already sweat-soaked top with ice cold water.

Shutting the water off, you turned to return to your cot, only to bump straight into a broad metal chest. The impact wasn’t very hard, but in your fragile state you fell to the ground, legs shaking underneath you. Your head pounded, and you groaned and covered your eyes.

“Are you alright? You don’t look so good,” Mando inquired. You rasped out a ‘no’, throat dry. You weren’t sure what was going on, but you knew that you definitely did not feel well. Your pussy throbbed at the sound of his voice, which would normally not feel so bad. In your current state, it was almost painful.

Mando turned, looking for something, and returned shortly with a cup of water. He knelt to be closer to your level, and held up the cup to your lips. He helped you sip, and you downed the water gratefully, feeling the dryness in your throat ease some.

“What happened?” Mando asked, and you sighed.

“I don’t know,” you said weakly. “Maybe I’m sick? I felt fine until we got back to the Crest. I had a bit of a headache so I tried to sleep it off, but it just kept getting worse and worse.” A low ‘hmm’ emanated from the beskar helmet, and Mando pulled off a glove to place the back of his hand gently against your cheek. You closed your eyes and leaned into it, thankful for the coolness of his skin against your blazing cheek.

“You’re burning up,” Mando said, concern evident in his voice. “It’s odd that you’d get this sick this quickly.” You let out a whine as he removed his hand, letting you head lull to the side. A sudden thought rushed through your head and you looked up at him in panic.

“You – and the baby – I don’t want you two to get sick,” you breathed out. “You should get away from me, and keep him away.” Mando stood, and pulled a datapad towards him. Frustrated that he seemed to ignore your concern, you tried to pull yourself up and found it more of a struggle than you could attempt. Choosing instead to crawl towards him, you pleaded for him to return to the cockpit.”

“Hush,” Mando commanded, and it was like every cell in your body stood at attention to obey him. You shut your mouth and rested your head against his armored thigh, closing your eyes to ride another wave of the burning in your blood that seemed to both come from and end up between your legs.

“Did you have anything to eat when we were in the market earlier?” Mando asked. You shook your head weakly.

“N-no…just a couple cups of caf…”

His helmet tilted sharply to look down at you. “Caf? Are you sure?”

Confused, you shrugged. “I…I think so?” Now that you thought about it, it had tasted a little unusual, but you had assumed it was just some kind of local variety. “It was a little…spicy…?”

A muffled expletive was all you heard as Mando set the datapad down and crouched to get at your eye level again. He grasped your chin gently in one hand to steady your head, and you felt your blood sing. You could faintly make out your reflection in his helmet, your pupils so dark it felt like your vision should be black.

“Wha-?” you said in a hushed voice, confused. Mando sighed, and let go of your chin. He remained in a crouched position, arms on his knees and hands opening and closing into fists as he struggled to explain.

 “I think you’ve been poisoned,” he started slowly. Your head shot up, panic evident on your face. “Not on purpose,” he clarified, “at least I don’t think so. I don’t think what you were given was caf. That planet is known for an herb that – in some people – elicits this kind of reaction,” he gestured at you. “I’m guessing that it was in what you drank.”

Your mind raced. Poisoned? Herb? None of it made sense in your addled state. All you knew was that with every passing moment your body throbbed with need and you were edging closer and closer to shoving your hand into your pants right here in front of the Mandalorian.

“Is there an antidote?” You moaned. “How long does this last?”

Mando shook his head. “Not that I know of. From what I’ve encountered, it can last a couple of days, but I’ve never seen someone have such a strong reaction,” he explained sympathetically. “I don’t know how much you had, so I don’t know how long this will last.”

“Is there anything to relieve this feeling?” You practically begged. “Mando, I’m desperate, this is unbearable…”

The man cleared his throat. It was clear he was struggling with something.

“There is,” he said lowly. “But it’s…it’s not something that…” he trailed off. You stifled a sob and crawled closer to him. One of his hands came to steady you at your shoulder.

“This reaction – the herb – it affects your libido,” he continued calmly. You grit out a short, strained laugh.

“No shit.” Something about him acknowledging he understood what you were experiencing was almost liberating. You felt like the more he talked to you, the more he touched you, the closer you were to him the clearer your head felt. The burn under your skin was still there, and the desire pounding through your veins, but your mind and attention were more focused.

“Yeah. So you can work it through your system faster by, uh…” he stumbled over his words. “R-releasing…”

You wanted to sink through the floor and float off into space, never to be seen again. The idea of getting off here with Mando knowing was mortifying. Sure, you were attracted to him, but this was not the way you had fantasized about approaching the topic with him.

“Damn it,” you murmured. “Damn it.” You looked up at Mando, debating your options. It seemed you could either ride this out, not knowing how long it would last, or get off until it wore off. Mando made it sound like it would be at least a few days before it was out of your system naturally You already felt at the end of your rope after just a few hours, so you crossed that off your list. That left you with one option.

Letting out a defeated sigh, you sat back on your haunches. “Can you help me up?” You asked, voice trembling. “Get back to my cot so I can, uh…”

Understanding, Mando moved towards you. Instead of sampling helping you stand, you let out a small squeak as he hoisted you up into his arms. The feeling of your skin against his cold armor was both a relief and a trigger, sending more need through your body.

He walked you over to your cot, and gently laid you down. You let out another (mostly) involuntary moan as his strong embrace lessened, and you desperately wished he would continue to hold you.

“Thanks,” you gasped out. “I’m so sorr-“

“Do you want help?”

You closed your mouth, not knowing to believe what you thought you just heard or not. He had said it so suddenly. His helmeted gaze was fixed on you, and you propped yourself up on one elbow.

“H-help?” You gulped. “H-help how?” His gaze remained steady, and there was a tension radiating off his body like you hadn’t seen before.

“I could…touch you,” he clarified. “Help you…release. Only if you want to,” he added. “Never without – I’d never presume –“

“Yes,” you said breathlessly. Your body hummed with desperation and need. “Please, yes, Mando.” His concern for you was intoxicating, his hurried explanation endearing.

Mando slowly moved to sit on your cot. While your sleeping space wasn’t exactly tiny, his bulk took up most of the space as he leaned against the wall, spreading his legs slightly. “Lay against me,” he said gently. Your body immediately obeyed his command, and shot up to crawl between his legs, settling between them, back against the cool structure of his chest. You felt dwarfed by his body and his presence, and that in and of itself was sending notes of gratification through you.

He shifted you slightly, so that your legs could spread wider. The feeling of his gloved hands against the soft skin of your thighs made you gasp sweetly, and you closed your eyes and leaned your head back.

A short rustle, and then his hands were back, this time bare. “Can I touch you?” He asked again, one hand on your thigh, the other hovering over the waistband of your bottoms. You nodded, and let out a hushed ‘yes’. Despite your enhanced state, you felt fully in control of your senses and cognizant of your decision.

Mando slipped his hand under your shorts, and cupped your dripping cunt. You spread your legs further, bumping them up against his. His hand on your thigh rubbed soft, soothing circles as his other prodded your folds and clit carefully.

You were so pent up and sensitive your first orgasm came embarrassingly fast. Mando slowly caressed your swollen pussy as you bit your lip and whimpered.

“So soon?” Mando joked breathlessly. Your hands came up to grip his pants, fisting the material as your lower half writhed.

“M-more Mando, please…”

He obliged you, putting pressure on your throbbing clit. You chewed on your lower lip, trying to move your hips in motion with his ministrations. His hand ventured lower, two fingers slipping inside you as the heel of his palm rubbed your clit. You opened your mouth in a silent ‘ah’ as he began to stroke in and out of you – not too deep, just enough to make your legs begin to shake.

His unoccupied hand came up to rest on your lower stomach. You marveled at how hands so calloused could feel so soft against you. You looked down at where he continued to pump in and out of you, cheeks burning. You were wetter than you had ever been before, and the sound of Mando touching you was nearly obscene.

You could feel another orgasm approaching. Your hands gripped his pants harder, and you arched your back, trying to get Mando to fill you more. His hand on your stomach stayed firm, holding you in place as he methodically fingered your dripping cunt.

“That’s it,” he murmured, voice husky and low even through the vocoder. “Let me help you-”

“M-maker…” you gasped. He ground his palm against your mound, and you were on the precipice. Your thighs shook with the effort of trying not to writhe so much that he lose his grip. You wondered where he learned to do this. Maybe it was the effect of the herb making you more sensitive, but it was like he was playing your body like an artist perfecting a masterpiece.

Your orgasm built like chain lightning, and rolled over you like thunder. Your thighs snapped closed, trapping his hand between your legs. Your head fell forward as you wailed, Mando coaching you through your second release.

“Yes, good girl, you’re doing so well-“

It felt like your release lasted two lifetimes before your thighs began to part. You felt extremely sensitive as Mando slipped his fingers out of you, trailing them up over your clit. Your body jerked from the sensation, and you panted, eyes closed.

“Feeling better?” Mando murmured, hand rubbing soft circles on your tummy. You nodded, voice not found. You were feeling lightyears better in fact – the burn was still there, but so much more subdued and your head no longer pounded.

“Mmm,” he said. “I guess your exceptional reaction results in exceptional completion.”

You let out a laugh. “Is that your hypothesis?” Mando’s hands returned to your thighs, and you bit your lip as he teased the soft skin there.

“Perhaps,” he mused. “I think it could benefit from more investigation.”

“Agreed,” you breathed, letting the pleasure wash over you as he resumed his attention dutifully.

 --

pt 2 but with din getting sex pollen’d.....? ∠( ᐛ 」∠)

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin #sex pollen #din djarin smut #mandalorian smut #mando x reader

[written-with-blue-ink]

Hear me out: Genshin characters with kids and their lovers kinda watch on in wonder and amazement. I love this idea so much, give me that tooth-rotting, fluffy cotton candy bullshit!

I love this idea so much! I have a couple of other ideas but ran out of room :( Would love to eventually do Kaeya and Neuvillette. Give me characters playing with kids! The ask box is still open

Characters include: Venti, Childe/Tartaglia, and Beidou

Venti

The early morning markets of Mondstadt held a special place in the hearts of you and your lover; going several times times a week to the open-air stalls for your household needs. Maybe it’s the smell of the fresh bread or the hustle and bustle of the crowd but the two of you love it. Attached at the hip, several of your neighbors tell you how cute of a couple you two are, only causing Venti to kiss your cheek and you to giggle at the gesture and the praise. 

That is till today when your partner disappeared sometime in the middle of your shopping trip. It wasn’t unusual for Venti to step away from you for a quick second but it’s been nearly an hour and there was still no sight of him. 

When you were about to give up and go back to your shared apartment, the soft sound of a flute rang in your ears, and the breeze it was carried on ruffled your hair. A soft smile appeared on your face as you chased the sound. 

Weaving in and out of the crowd as you giggle, you stop at a sight that makes your heart melt. Venti, flute in hand, playing a cheerful tune as several children of the city follow behind him and match his step in dance like a little parade. The moment your eyes met, his eyes grew and he lowered his body as a makeshift bow as he carried along with the children on his tail.

Childe

It was a few weeks after his return from Fontaine when your love, Ajax, got word that his siblings would be on route to Liyue Harbor to visit him and the excitement in his eyes and his roaring laughter as he picked you up spinning at the news. You’ve never seen him so enthusiastic about doing paperwork or so critical about how clean your apartment or Northland Bank is but when you asked, all he could respond with was, “my siblings are coming, I don’t need to be worrying about this when they arrive.” 

So, on the morning they were set to arrive you weren’t expecting him to be a nervous wreck. His ginger hair somehow even more vibrant in the rising sun as he paced around the docks of the harbor. Sitting a large box of shipping cargo, you snickered as you looked down at his behavior. “Babe, it’ll be alright,” you coo, “what are you so worried about?” 

He groans, moving over towards you and taking your hands in his. “I don’t know,” he starts, eyes on what he’s holding as he rubs his fingers over your knuckles, “I just want them to like everything… Liyue, my new life… you.”

The grin in your face shifted to a soft, loving smile as you admire his heart. Removing your hands from his grasp, you move it to his jawline to cup his face. Pulling him close, you kiss his forehead before whispering, “it will be okay. I promise.”

The sound of a ship's horn could be heard from the distance, causing you both to turn to see a Snezhnayian ship slowly come onto the docks. You two pull apart as you watch it come to a stop and the door opens.

"BIG BROTHER," a young boy shouts as the door opens. You could barely see him, just a blur of orange and brown running down the ramp and into the arms of your boyfriend.

"TEUCER," he laughed, holding the boy tight as he spun him around, “where are Tonia and Anthon?”

“Up here,” a young girl, no older then fourteen, shouted. You could barely look back up before the two kids, the assumed Tonia and a brown haired boy with glasses ran down and tackled their brothers, all four of them on the ground laughing as Ajax pulled them close.

Cocking your head to the side, your sappy smile grew in size as you watched your boyfriend hold them close, their chuckles filling your heart as you watch them get up. “Tonia, Anthon, Teucer, this is my lover, (Y/N). Printsessa, these are my younger siblings.”

You all smile, saying your hellos before the sound of growling stomachs escaped your lover and his youngest brother’s stomachs. “Big brother, can we eat now? I’m starving,” Teucer whined, pulling on his sleeve. 

“Yes, yes, come on. I have a few things prepped at home,” Childe said, gesturing for them to follow as he put a hand around your waist. Walking down the road, listening to them talk as you rested your head along your boyfriend’s shoulder, you wished that one day, in the future, this might be your life.

Beidou

‘Shit shit shit’. You couldn’t help but feel like you should slap yourself as you ran through the streets of Liyue Harbor. Spending all day prepping your girlfriend’s special return, somehow you forgot to meet her at the docks. 

Rounding the corner to the stairs just past the Adventurers’ Guild and the blacksmith, you looked to see the harbor was full of life. The Crux was back with large crates of goods from the far away nations they visited along their travels but no sign of the infamous captain of the ship. 

Cautiously going down the steps, eyes more focused on spotting The Crux’s queen. About halfway, you manage to spot her and the sight immediately made you melt. There she was, a gigantic grin plastered on her face with a stick in hand, fighting off the small army of kids who played around the docks. ‘I swear to Rex Lapis, I love this woman,’ you couldn’t help but think. 

Quickly she glances up and your eyes met hers. Her smile shifted to a sly smirk as she dashed away from the kids, vaulting over one of the large crates. “Get her,” Little Fei shouts! The group quickly starts running after her as they weave in and out of the men and women working on the docks. 

Not even bothering to stop, Beidou grabs you and throws you over her shoulder. A laugh escapes her throat as she roars, “I have stolen the treasure! See ya’ punks!” 

“Beidou! Babe,” you sceam, pounding your hands on her back as she slowly begins to run off!. Looking back at the miniature batalion chasing her, you play along and scream, “please help me, kind pirates!” 

As she carries you around Liyue Harbor with the kids in toe, she manages to slip away and move you from her shoulder and into her hands as she holds you up. “Well, this isn’t how I was expecting your return home to be…”

“What are you talking about,” she smirks, kissing you on the nose, “it’s perfect.”

#genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin venti #venti genshin impact #venti #venti the bard #venti x reader #barbatos x reader #venti x you #venti x y/n #childe headcanons #childe imagines #childe fluff #venti fluff #childe x you #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x you #tartaglia #genshin tartagalia #childe tartagalia #childe tartaglia ajax #venti imagines #beidou #beidou imagines #beidou x reader #beidou x y/n #beidou x you #liyue

[breakfastteatime]

The problem with being too sick and injured to do much is boredom. So. Much. Boredom. Cal doesn’t have the energy to tweak his lightsaber or read, but he also can’t sleep constantly, even though he does seem to be trying. He is still feverish – although not as seriously as before, when the entire ship seemed to be talking to him (were they delusions or echoes? Who knows!) – and he’s a little too prone to fainting if he stands up for longer than two minutes (going to the refresher is a mission. Moving to the lounge is too perilous a task). The pain is under control so long as he takes something for it, which only makes him drowsy and less coherent and uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh.

He. Is. So. Bored.

Today, they’ve docked with a market barge to restock (a lightsaber wound is a good way to empty out a medkit), so with Cere, Greez and BD busy shopping, Merrin has been left to watch over him.

“Sorry,” he tells her as she settles in beside him. He is resting in bed as usual, supported by pillows and covered in a blanket, one foot alternating between poking out when he’s too hot, and sliding under when he’s too cold. “You’d have more fun on the barge.”

She holds up the datapad. “I am prepared.”

Cal knows she is because he overheard Greez before he left. “Distract him with the holonet,” Greez told Merrin. “Just try to find something other than the usual engineering stuff he watches, otherwise he’ll be wide awake and you’ll be the one taking the nap.”

“The holonet is full of many things,” Merrin says. “I do not know where to start.”

Cal adjusts himself against the pillows, coughing gently. “Here.” He taps on the screen and it changes to a site full of videos. “You want to see the galaxy, right?”

“Eventually.” Childlike hope shimmers from her.

“Okay. Let’s see.” Cal types slowly with one finger, hoping the browser will correct his atrocious spelling.

Merrin follows along. “Top ten best planets in the galaxy?”

“Yeah. We watched it a while ago.” He taps the first video and it starts playing. “Get a taste of what’s out there.”

‘What’s out there’ is beyond Merrin’s limited experience, and she cannot help her gasps of wonder. Planets of water, planets as green as Dathomir is red, planets where the stars ignite the night sky, planets of ice, a planet that is an entire city… Rapt, she remains curled in the bed beside Cal. The show holds his attention… holds his… holds… His head comes to rest against her arm.

“There are many planets I wish to visit now,” she says during a commercial break.

Cal tells her he’ll go with her. Or he hums in agreement. He’s not sure.

“Perhaps we will all go together, when you can stay awake long enough,” Merrin says.

“Mmm.”

“Do not drool on me.”

Cal falls asleep with a smile.

#star wars jedi: fallen order #jfo headcanon #jfo minific #oh look at that i have more post-nur feelings #cal kestis #merrin

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Hi!! Congratulations on passing 1,000 followers! I thought, maybe something cool to write about would be...

Ed and Jim talking about their feelings on gender expression/presentation, and Ed realizing they are more similar than he first thought? Maybe post season 2?

This one took a sec to ferment in my brain but when it did. ooooh when it did. Trans people talking about gender is the fuckin BEST.

Send me a prompt and I'll write a 1k word fic!

--

Ed wasn’t even sure why he’d bought the little bottle of nail polish.

The crew had come round to visit for a few days - earlier than they’d expected when they got the letter from Lucius around the start of the spring, so they had to cram them into the two guest rooms they’d been able to finish. Still, Ed had enjoyed showing them around, showing off how the master bedroom was coming along, and the kitchen (Roach promised to help furnish their growing spice rack), and Stede’s garden out front.

They’d treated everyone for lunch at their favorite fish spot down near the docks, then wandered around the market stalls, everyone offering their opinions on potential new pieces of decor for the inn.

And Ed had found the nail polish at a little stall selling cosmetics and medicines and all sorts of little trinkets. It was purple, and sparkly, with little bits of shiny glitter worked into it, and he held the bottle up, admiring how the color turned rich in the sunlight.

“That’s a nice one,” the nice old shopkeeper said. “I’m sure your girlfriend would like it, too.”

He’d winked, and Ed’s stomach had turned, and he’d almost put the bottle back. He knew the shopkeeper was just trying to make a sale, but it just reminded him - it was something Ed shouldn’t want.

He bought the nail polish, tucking it quickly into his pocket before anyone could notice.

Now, here he was, standing in the bedroom and chewing on his bottom lip, unsure what to do with it. He could hide it away, like a shameful little secret, but it would eat away at him. He could put it in the bathroom, but Stede would ask where he’d gotten it, maybe even ask if he wanted to wear it.

Wearing it seemed like a whole other can of worms.

Ed remembered the first, and last, time he’d worn nail polish. He’d painted his nails somewhere between all the poetry, after he came back to the ship alone, before the bad times. And then…yeah. All that had happened, and he was reminded that wasn’t something he got to do. He’d tried to scrape it off with a knife, back then, but he’d given up after he’d nicked his fingers too many times - hadn’t been able to keep his hands steady, for some fucking reason. He’d worn those full-fingered gloves to hide it until it had peeled off.

That was just the way it was, for people like Ed-

“Hey, man.” Jim’s voice in the doorway made Ed jump - they were as quiet as a fucking cat. 

Ed let out an extremely dignified squeak of terror, moving to reflexively hide the bottle and accidentally just tossing it away from him. It landed on the bed, thankfully, instead of shattering on the floor.

“Stede was wondering where you were - dinner’s ready.” Jim, in their infinite mercy, chose not to make fun of him, but their eyes flicked to the bed. “Why are you being so weird about nail polish?”

“Not being weird,” Ed deflected, trying to think of any good excuses for why he was being weird. “I just. Uh. Trying to decide if I want to wear it.”

Jim shrugged, bending to pick it up. They nodded at the color. “It’s nice.”

“Yeah,” Ed mumbled, looking at the floor. 

It was the caginess, maybe, that did it, but Ed could practically feel the second Jim got it.

“Oh,” they said, and then, “look, you don’t have to tell me, it’s no one’s fucking business, but - if you’re like me, then, fuck, I get it.”

“Not exactly like you.” Ed hadn’t realized how nice it would feel, to talk with someone who got it, and the little relieved smile felt good in his mouth. “I’m a man, people just thought I was a girl when I was born.”

“You know, I paint my nails, sometimes,” Jim told him. They sat on the bed, still holding the nail polish, and Ed followed them down, relaxing into the pillows.

“Are you…” Ed took a deep breath. “I’m scared, sometimes, that things like that will make people think I’m not enough of a man.”

“That’s the fuckin’ bitch, isn’t it?” Jim shook their head. “Lucius paints his nails all the time, and he’s fine. But people like us, we have to be so much more careful.”

“Yeah,” Ed nodded. “It’s like some people are just waiting for any chance to tell us we’re not actually who we say we are.”

“Fuckin’ exactly!” Jim thumped his shoulder in agreement. “It’s like, hello, I think I know myself better than you do, and I can paint my nails if I fuckin’ want!”

Ed’s laugh felt light. 

“Hey,” Jim said, passing the nail polish to Ed. “You wanna give it a try?”

Ed let his breath out, slowly. “I don’t know.”

“If you want, I’ll do it with you,” Jim offered. “And if you don’t like it, y’know, alcohol can get it off pretty easy, and we can take it off while it’s still wet. You’re a man, you’ll just be a man wearing nail polish. If other people can do it, why can’t we?”

They sat on the bedroom floor so they wouldn’t get anything on the nice sheets, and they painted each other’s nails. Ed tried to be careful to get Jim’s just right, and they didn’t complain when his hands were still a little shaky.

They were a bit late to dinner, and Ed felt a little awkward as Jim showed off their nail polish to their partners. Archie thought it was a fuckin’ dope color, apparently, but Ed hung back until Jim said “and look at Ed’s! Doesn’t he look fuckin’ cool!”

The round of agreement from the crew as they made him pose so they could all get a good look was more than Ed had expected.

Jim caught his eye over the dinner table. They winked, and Ed winked back.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd fic #my fics #i wish i could draw so i could draw ed and jim painting each other's nails and bitching about gender expectations

[reve-writes]

—thunderstorms; nikolai lantsov.

ʚ nikolai lantsov x tailor!reader | grishaverse | 1,2k words. ʚ based off of this ask. | you're stranded with your captain, sturmhond, and forced to stay together at an inn to wait out a coming storm. the problem is: one, you're deathly scared of thunderstorms and two, there is only one bed. ʚ the one bed trope; fluff; reader being a grisha is easily omittable if its not your thing. ʚ a/n okay i don't write for nikolai a lot and i feel like he's very out of character here i'm sorry. i love him i think i'll understand of him after i read king of scars? for now i'm basing him off the show and the main trilogy. thanks for reading.

"Great," you mutter, throwing your hands in the air. Sturmhond pushes past you from where you stand in the doorway. If he notices anything askew, he doesn't say anything. You, however, glare at the moderately-sized bed in the centre of the dusty hotel room. There's no way you're sharing the bed with your captain.

No. Way.

He turns to look at you, red hair—the result of your handiwork—falling over his forehead. You notice the hazel of his eyes have started to return, replacing the muddy-green enchantment you've put on him a week prior.

"Are you not coming in?" He asks, entirely too casual as he sheds his blue coat.

You walk into the room, closing the door behind you. You take the coat from him, placing it neatly on the clothe hanger behind the door. "It should dry by the morning."

Nikolai hums. "I feel like I can sleep for a week."

With a satisfied groan, he plops onto the comforter with his boots still planted on the floor. You crinkle your nose at him. As if he can sense your disapproval, he looks up, pushing on his elbows to stare at you from where you stand near the doorway.

"You're making the bed all wet," you protest, tugging him by the sleeves. "Go clean up first."

You lead him to sit in the leather armchair in the corner of the room. He follows with nary a protest, you're right after all. His clothes is damp, sticking to his skin uncomfortably. You pull on your satchel, overflowing with haphazardly purchased clothes from the nearby market stalls.

Without warning, you throw a tunic and a pair of trousers towards him. Simple, understated clothes— a complete opposite of what he usually wears, but you can barely afford anything. Not when you've left most of your valuables aboard the ship, which is currently docked on the other side of the island.

He catches them too easily, his reflexes trained from all his years serving in the Ravkan army. "You can clean up first. I can't have my favourite tailor catch a cold, darling."

You try to ignore the casual way he throws around terms of endearment. That is just the way he is. Flirtatious, charming privateer. Still, there's no helping the spike of your heartrate whenever he calls you darling or sweetheart. Thank the Saints that he's not a heartrender.

"How chivalrous," you say. "I'll take the washroom first then."

Your heart hammers in your chest still even after you've finished and it is his turn to use the bathroom. You sit at the edge of the bed, trying to come up with a sleeping arrangement for the two of you. Saints. You're not sleeping side-by-side here.

You don't think you'll be able to sleep a wink.

The room is bare save for the armchair, a vanity and the bed. You are not sleeping on the floor and you can't exactly ask the Prince of Ravka to take the floor, can you? You'll be plagued with guilt anyway if you do.

Lost in your own head, you don't notice the pitter-patter of rain against the glass of the windows. Not until it's too late. There's a loud rumble overhead, thunderous, reverberating throughout the small room with an unwelcome crack.

You jump, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Your breathing is uneven now, the tips of your fingers growing cold. You squint your eyes, bracing yourself for another booming sound.

You hate thunderstorms. It brings a chill down your spine, rendering you helpless. This fear follows you, like a monster under your bed you can never manage to outgrow. You've grown to hate it more ever since you start to live at sea. Whenever the clouds start to appear a little too grey, Nikolai will call for the crew to head to the nearest docks, knowing your inability to stand it.

"Hey."

A warm hand engulfs yours, a comforting presence cutting through the turmoil in your mind. Nikolai's hair is still wet. You notice your work has already started to fade away, revealing blond strands amidst all the red. His eyes come into focus, eyebrows curved into worried lines as he kneels in front of you.

You don't know why but you smooth your hand over his hair. "You didn't dry it properly."

He chuckles, relieved that you're okay. "I heard the thunder and rushed outside. I was so worried I barely put my clothes on."

Your face heats up, noticing the undone knots of his tunic. You tug on the thread, tying it into a secure knot. You don't notice the way you've leaned in, but Nikolai does. He freezes, shoulders tensing as he watches you, the way your eyelashes brushing over the tops of your cheeks when you blink, the slope of the tip of your nose.

The thunder rumbles again and you suddenly jolt back.

His hands immediately reach towards you. "It's alright, darling. We're safe. Nothing can get us in here."

You swallow, nodding. Your heartbeat roars and you don't know if it's your scared reaction towards the storm outside or Nikolai's proximity. The way his eyes look at you—it's too gentle. It makes your stomach do flips.

"I know, I'm sorry," you say, holding a hand out. "Let me dry your hair. Tell me some stories to keep my mind off it."

He smirks, passing you his towel. "You know I can never pass up a chance to talk your ear off, darling. You know i've never told you about this sweet shop in Ravka, have I? My favourite...."

His voice is a calming lull in your ears. It's as if the world around you has melted away and the two of you exist in a vacuum. Just you and him. It's a pleasant feeling, one that you wish to indulge in a little longer. Realistically, he's a prince and you're no royalty. Whatever stolen glances and brushes of fingertips exchanged between you are bound to end sooner or later.

For now, you let yourself fall.

"...and that is how I unintentionally crashed my mother's tea party."

You let out a small laugh, setting his towel to the side. "I'm sure the Queen gave you an earful and a half."

He snorts. "Oh, she did. Whenever she has guests, I stay away from the entire wing that they're occupying in the castle."

You scoot further into the bed, patting the empty space beside you to invite him. "No funny business, Captain. It seems like we have to share the bed."

"But I strive to do funny businesses," he protests, frowning as he pulls the covers over the two of you. He doesn't seem the slightest bit worried at the prospects of sleeping on the same bed. His long tale has eased the rapid beating of your heart as well, replacing it with a comfortable warmth. You roll your eyes in response, putting an arm's length of distance between the two of you.

He grabs your wrist. "I'll be good, darling. I promise. Come closer or you'll fall off the bed."

Embarrassment blankets your face with heat. "Nikolai."

You relent, letting yourself press closer to his side. Waves of comforting warmth radiated off of him. Under the blanket, with him next to you, the storm outside is but a muffled sound and you don't think you've ever been more relaxed during a thunderstorm before.

"Good night, Captain," you mumble, letting your eyes flutter close.

"Night, darling."

[ ]

#nikolai lanstov x reader #sturmhond x reader #—ki writes 🍯