#really need to get around to writing that fic of them

[dr-felitas]

╭──╯ TWO TRUTHS, ONE LIE

PAIRING: aventurine x reader

SYNOPSIS: in which you invite aventurine to play a drinking game with you: "two truths and one lie." it's an amusing game, what could possibly go wrong? that is until one can't distinguish between the truth and a lie.

wordcount: 1.8k | content & warnings: unestablished relationship, drunk - not really drunk rather intoxicated confession? or drunk idk, alcohol, barely any metaphors - like little to none but more dialogue (i’ve improved..ig!!), the title basically says everything

AUTHORS NOTE: i needed to write something and its two almost three am, im dying. istg i pulled this out of my asscrack. So who am i to proofread?? also this is kinda similar, kinda (really) similar to my other fic. what if i cried. when writers block gets so bad you start copying yourself dawg

“it’ll be fun!” 

you blissfully cheer as you take out two shot glasses out of your cupboard before fetching a bottle of vodka and setting it down onto the big and fancy dining table that stands in the middle of your living room, a moving gift for your new apartment which you received from none other than aventurine. 

(he insisted that it’s a fitting gift for your new home - well it certainly didn’t fit well through your front door, only after a few tries from aventurines employees they managed to transport it inside your new apartment.) 

with quick movements, the blond grabs the transparent alcohol and pours the two of you a glass. “how gentlemanlike of you.” you comment, a pinch of teasing in your words as you let out a huff, smiling as you shake your head before sitting down, right in front of him. 

a faint laugh escapes aventurine's lips and he can only hum in delight as he slides over your glass from across the table. “so if i understood it right, you for an example, tell me one lie and two truths and if i were to guess them correctly, i as the victor get to see you, the loser drinking a shot?” he props his elbow onto the dining table before leaning his cheek into the palm of his left hand, curiously awaiting your answer.

your eyes gleam in excitement “bingo!” and he can’t help the smile that finds its way onto his face. “though we’re not gonna do it one go, we’ll have turns. for example, i start off by telling a lie and you guess if i was telling the truth or not, then it’s my turn to guess, then it’s yours again and so on.” 

you grab the glass from above and lazily twirl around the vodka. “how does that sound?” you tap your fingers around glass before slowly tracing the edges of your glass with your index finger in a languid motion. “is this a wager you’re willing to indulge in, mr. aventurine?” you smile. what a tease you are.

“sure, sure. i see no reason to decline your generous offer.” he returns your smile with one of his own, similar to the one he gives to his clients, polite and charming. “well then, it’s only natural for you as the guest to start, right?” you set your glass down and it makes a light “thump” sound. 

“how kind of you.” he looks down at the dining table, scanning the items with his eyes. a white tablecloth which is stained with some light brown-yellowish spots, probably from the times when you spilled coffee onto your table and weren’t able to properly wash them out. 

he hums as he taps his fingers against the hard surface of the table, deep in thought as if pondering what to say. “let’s start off with an easy one, the critters were a gift from the trailblazer.” a lie.

you’re quick to respond “that’s a lie. although you and the trailblazer get along well, they’ve never gifted you something like a pet. the person whom you received them from is veritas.” upon that aventurine can only give you a content smile before gulping his glass down in one go. 

“very well.” he praises you before opening the alcohol bottle and pouring him another glass, not once breaking eye contact as he shoots you a knowing look that says “your turn.”

unlike aventurine you don’t need a long time to think about what you’re going to say. “i used to like you a lot.” a partial lie - you still like him. 

“that’s a lie.” aventurine immediately points out, not even bothering to meet your gaze. can this be considered a rejection? technically you didn’t confess but you admitted your “former” feelings which he immediately denied as if he doesn’t want to have anything to do with them. in response you can only quickly down your glass, hoping that the alcohol would somehow help you. (does making you feel worse count as help?) 

he continues without any effort, simply just brushing off your admission from just now. “i get along well with topaz and veritas.” the truth.

your eyes that were on his once also glance down at the table as you bury your nails into the tablecloth. “that’s the truth.” you manage to choke out, there’s no way you’re going to start getting all emotional now and start sobbing and weeping, instead you take a deep breath before continuing. 

“although it sometimes gives the impression that you don't get along with either of them and the three of you are just acquainted with one another through work, they trust you a lot and also somewhat get along with you. for an example when topaz entrusted you with her cornerstone during your mission on penacony or as mentioned before when veritas gifted you the critters. he thought you’d take a liking to them. perhaps you’re not friends but at least reliable colleagues that trust each other.” you answer as you continue to dig your nails deeper into the piece of fabric.

“i should’ve known that this was too easy for you.” aventurine chuckles as he drinks the vodka out of the glass, not leaving a single drop behind. “okay, it’s your turn again.”

you can only hum in agreement before speaking up. “i have a high alcohol tolerance.” a lie, a big one at that.

a honeyed laugh meets your ears, the sound of sweet laughter makes you glance up again. aventurine’s laughing. how sweet, bittersweet even.

there were nights when you were curled up in your sheets, wishing that there was someone beside you and not just a cold and empty mattress; wishing that there was aventurine who was laying by your side as he whispers sweet nothings into your ears as one of his arms is draped around your torso, tracing shapes onto your soft skin and tickling you. you’d push him away and laugh at which he could also only laugh. 

laugh like this; laugh like right now.

the delicate and tender moments you yearn for more than anything else are like birds, as soon as you get close to them, they get scared, they flutter their wings and quickly fly away. before you’d ever have a chance with aventurine he’d always be out of your grasp - out of your reach. 

he’s free on his own, not bound to anything and anyone. not having someone to rely on and someone whom he always needs to worry about. someone who’d keep him caged like a bird with little and restricted or rather no freedom.

“why are you laughing?” you shoot him an offended glare as you part your lips at him, a small pout decorating your face. “why are you sulking?” he responds in a teasing tone, it’s supposed to be light hearted but there’s care that glimmers in his eyes. great, does he care about you now?

“i  am not sulking!” you huff as you try to hide your expression from him, putting your arms down the dining table and burying your head in between them. 

“oh you so are!” he laughs lightly.

“shut up ‘rine!” you groan from where you’re laying.

“fine, fine.” if you were to look up at him now, you’d see him admiring you and fondly smiling while looking at the back of your head.

“my answer is that that's a lie. a blatant massive lie! you have a low alcohol tolerance and are basically a lightweight. i mean just look at your face, your cheeks are flushed and so are your ears, they’re literally beet red.” he chuckles. 

you get up from your lying position and greet him with an annoyed look. quickly you grab your glass and gulp everything down to the last bit, eventually you wipe away the remnants that cling onto your skin with your arm before pouring yourself another drink and laying back down, so now you’re back to your previous position. 

“well, it’s my turn again. because i started off with an easy one, i’ll also end it with a simple and really easy one. i have a shopping addiction.” a lie.

“lie! Yyu yell from your place. “what kind of lie is that even?” you complain to him. 

“i told you i’d end it with an easy one. but can you also tell me why it’s a lie?” he asks curiously.

“you’re not too fond of spending credits on materialistic stuff, you use them to help out people who are in need. despite your job.”  the last part was muffled and intended for yourself only but you should’ve known that aventurine would hear it. “what was that?” despite my job?” he asks in amusement. “just forget it!” you groan.

“anyway you do that or buy cute toys for your critters. You prefer to keep your friends close with words, gestures and actions, not money.” you whisper.

“jackpot.” aventurine chuckles before proceeding to drink the vodka in his shot glass. now what will you surprise him with next?

“i still love you.” the truth.

in the past minute you gathered together several questions, statements, personal experiences in your head only to splurt out with this? the boldness came from the vodka, at least that’s what you try to tell yourself nevertheless you’re sure of one thing: alcohol definitely wasn’t a good idea.

“bold as always.” aventurine chuckles amusedly. “the truth.” he hums before standing up from where he was currently sitting, moving towards your side of the table and standing in front of you. you’re dizzy - lightheaded, but you try to look up to where he’s standing, with much effort you move your head into his direction, still lying on the table though. although you feel dizzy you’re able to make out a faint smile on his rosy lips. 

he opens his arms before wrapping them around your body, just like how you always longed. it’s unfair. even though vodka reeks, he doesn’t smell like it at all, rather it’s still his signature scent, a somewhat fresh note mixed with something sweet, the scent that you like so much. “sorry for being an ass before.” he hums as he looks down at your temple and carefully brushes the hair which covers your face, away.

i love you too. he wants to say, but he can’t. aventurine still can’t come to terms with himself and his love towards you. he doesn’t know how to voice it out loud or show it through actions. three simple words that he can’t say together, fearing that they’d be too intimate and wouldn’t seem sincere, especially in this scenario. 

but in all honesty, you’ve probably already caught on. you’re smiling like a lovesick idiot when you stare at him, but who wouldn’t, when aventurine is looking at you with an expression that says more than “i love you” ever could. 

you knew instantly, he too, was guilty. guilty of loving you.

hey girly hold still!!!! this is uhm yeah dedicated to @azullumi i'm not writing you a sappy not until i get mine!! THAT DOESNT CONSISIT OF ONLY BLANING ME FOR MY TYPSOS also childe does no wrong. ajax, you the boy who fell into the abyss, later on known as the 11th harbinger tartaglia whom we met in liyue and called himself childe and then turned out to be apart of the fatui and we also later on meet in other nations, azul loves you a lot!!

© DR-FELITAS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

#—stellaronhvnters. #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #aventurine x reader #honkai star rail fluff #aventurine fluff #hsr fluff #felis-files #aventurine x you #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you

[gyuswhore]

Never Shall We Die (3; final)

«« Nothing is too outlandish when it’s a life of liberty on the line. »» 

PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x reader

PLAYLIST: right here!

pirate lingo glossary (pls refer!)

SYNOPSIS: Deadliest pirate on the high seas or a damn fool? The stupid King and his men have snatched Hoshi's precious pirate ship with their too clean, too soft hands; grounds to question his own vices. Except, when he and his crew land in the quarters of a navy ship, revenge on their roster, they stumble across a princess in its gallows. Hoshi wonders if he's just struck gold, or if you'd become the final tread to his downfall.

GENRES: pirate!au, enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut [minor dni], some pirates of the carribean vibes but ? idk

WORD COUNT [full fic]: 48.1k

Part 1: 17.07k | Part 2: 15.2k | Part 3 [final] : 15.8k

@highvern's out of context comment box: new fear unlocked: hoshi with explosives, victorian ankle moment, HATE HIM (need him carnally), hoshi covered in soapy water would distract me enough, strip for me pirate mingyu [hes litrally taking off his jacket], your honor hes a bitch, freaks!, mingyu crushes hoshi's head like a grape, WONWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, massive dick, the way i literally gasped like an old scandalized woman

masterlist

WARNINGS: slowburn, plot heavy, happy ending bc no angsty endings in this household, being taken hostage, knives, bombs, and guns, mentions of blood, mentions of SA (does not happen and it is not explicitly mentioned), alcohol, mentions of death (patricide), hoshi is ✨selectively moral✨but kind of moral nonetheless, side character death, [pls lmk if im missing something its alot] smut tags: hoshi loves thighs, corruption kink to the mAX, clit stimulation, oral (f. receiving), breast play, p in v sex (unprotected, 1800s contraception will make you prefer it but pls dont do this irl), making out

[AN]: final part oh my god if youve read the other parts up till now, THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU i hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as i loved writing it, im really proud of this fic and im so happy so many of you have enjoyed it so far. @highvern betaing as always ty for not giving up on me. AS ALWAYS, PLS TELL ME YOUR THOTS IN THE RBS OR THE REPLIES OR SEND ME AN ASK LITERALLY WTV MUAH MUAH HAPPY READING <3

THIS IS THE NICEST PRISON Hoshi has ever been in, which was saying something, because he had been in quite a lot of prisons. 

But it was uncomfortable nonetheless, six grown men tied up and shoved into a crouching space to be done with as the men that prowled above pleased. 

Hoshi would be lying if he said he hadn’t had to restrain from pushing some of those sorry soldiers into the ice waters beyond the glaciers. He had resisted, the crew had resisted, but just enough to convince them of their unwillingness. 

Hoshi had realised early on that there was no possible way of getting aboard Tigress without somehow climbing aboard the King’s boat first. The king wasn’t about to simply hand Hoshi’s ship over, and there was no indication that they'd wait till after nightfall to depart. 

Hoshi also knew that the King would refuse to have him die so easily in the waters of the Green Islands, his pride depended on it. He imagines the man drawing up the specifics of the most gruesome execution the Kingdom would ever see. Hoshi was counting on it. 

The bounds could’ve been broken out of and the locks somehow picked, but Hoshi also knew that he had to wait. Wait for you to find him first. 

“What’s taking her so long?” Jun asks. He’d been the most anxious out of all, the shaking feet and restless moving making it clear. 

“The bomb won’t…go off still strapped to her, will it?” Minghao asks and Hoshi isn’t quite sure he wants to know the answer. 

“It shouldn’t. Not until she pulls the tab. But…”

“But?” Hoshi whips around. “Why is there a but? You were supposed to make sure there was no but!”

“Big bomb, more boom, less predictable!” 

“Are you sure we can’t break out and look for her ourselves?” Mingyu grumbles, the most compromised with his longer limbs folded in uncomfortable positions.

“The minute they know we’re loose they’ll swarm her. There won’t be a way to get to her, not without fighting off every last bastard on this ship. They’ve taken our stuff too, we don’t stand a chance.”

They did, actually, stand a chance. But that was only if they were to break away and head straight for Tigress that was empty and standing right beside this very ship. But they couldn’t. Hoshi couldn’t. Not without taking you with him. 

Nobody dares to suggest the easier route, and he doubts it’s just because of what he wants. 

But panic was beginning to trickle into Hoshi’s veins anyway, the closed off brig refusing to give him any indication of the time of day. 

The sun was only beginning to set when they were taken to the ship, and he knew they were near done for if they didn’t finish what they started before nightfall. He can’t tell how long it’s been, and it eats away at his insides. 

Please be okay. 

And then he hears it, the sound of a body hitting the floors with a loud thud, a chortle of air before it’s knocked out. He finds himself sitting up straighter, pressing his hands to bars of the prison, trying to peer out the narrow walkway that leads to the doors. 

And then you appear in the lamplight, haphazard and ruffled up beyond measure. 

The knife in your hand drips with blood, your shirt torn at the arms, your hands bloodied and bruised. 

When Hoshi sees your face he almost doesn’t recognise you. 

There’s angry blooming marks of red and purple all across your neck and collarbone, your eyes bloodshot and red, watering like you’d been swimming in salt water. 

“Who did this?” he asks before anything else, watching you drop to your knees in front of the prison, unanswering as you fumbled with a giant ring of keys in your hand. 

You jam each key into the lock, twisting it to no avail. Your hands are shaking. 

The crew finally twist out of their loose bonds, Minghao lurching forward immediately, swatting your hands away. He picks out a few skinny pins from his boot, picking the rusty lock. Despite the strange angle, the bars creak open within seconds. 

“There’s…There’s ropes hooked onto the ship on the main deck.” 

Your voice sounds like you’re speaking through sandpaper, talking while struggling to emerge with the bomb you had. 

Hoshi doesn’t know what to do when he crawls out of the space. 

He’d had it all figured out in his head, what would happen in every possible outcome. You getting hurt wasn’t in any of his universal conclusions; especially not on this ship. They’d kill his crew, they might even kill the King with themselves, but you were meant to remain unscathed. 

“Why–why do you look like that? What happened?” Nothing registers in his head, not even when Jun is pushing him out into the hall. 

“Get up to the deck and get out across the lines!” Jun gruffs in his ears. “That bomb’s gonna go off with us still on here.”

He sees the canister that lies in the same prison they had just exited, he sees your mouth moving without sound. All he can think of are the distinct fingerprints around your throat and how it looked like somebody tried to kill you before they tried to kill him. 

“Soonyoung,” he hears you say in a broken voice and that’s all it takes for him to snap out of it. 

His crew is looking at him expectantly. He looks back at the door and sees the crumpled bodies of the prison guards. 

So much for leaving quietly. 

The minute Hoshi is out the door of the brig, he finds a chest next to the collapsed, bleeding soldiers. Kicking it open, he can only scoff as he finds the entire crew’s weapons in such close vicinity. 

He feels better with his dagger at his hip, along with the rest of his knives that he slips into the loops. Even more so with the rest of his crew armed and ready. 

“We know where the deck is.” He swallows, eyeing his crew’s weapons in their ready hands. He knew they’d agreed to ensure the clean sinking of the ship, but the fallen bodies on the floor were an ode to a different route they’d have to take. “Don’t hesitate if someone gets in your way.”

Taking cautious steps to the upper decks, he finds more bodies collapsed onto the floor, bleeding and unconscious. He opts to ask you the details later, wondering how you were able to take down all these guards by yourself. 

It isn’t until they reach the stairs that lead to the main deck that he comes across a guard. 

Before the witness can raise any alarm, Hoshi’s slamming the butt of his dagger into the side of his head, knocking him clean unconscious as he falls off the side of the short railing. 

Clambering up the steps as quietly as possible, he raises a hand behind him to signal his crew to halt, peering into the main deck first. 

The sun is still out, but low in the sky as it dips in the sky. There’s a few people on the deck, pacing and moving about in preparation for departure. Angling his gaze, he finds ropes suspended over the edge of the railing, parallel to the water. 

He can’t see Tigress, but he knows that’s what the ropes are hooked on to. 

“Jun,” he beckons. “How long till the bomb on the other ship goes off?”

The bomb Jun had planted in the first ship they had arrived in should be going off any time now, and Hoshi finds himself needing it to go off now. 

Jun barely opened his mouth to reply when the ship shuddered. 

For a moment, Hoshi thinks the bomb in the brigs had gone off, but when he finds the clambering of boots to one side of the ship, opposite to where the ropes tied to Tigress, he realises their surrogate ship had given its last gift to the crew. 

The rest of the ship would be bounding to the main deck to inspect the noise soon, so he shoots a quick, “Hurry!” behind him before stepping onto the main deck. 

The entire deck is occupied with the ship that lies a ways away across the expanse of sea, the beginnings that would soon lead the entire ship to be engulfed in flames. It’s tilting at a dangerous angle. 

Hoshi stands as he uses the crew straight towards the ropes that lead to Tigress. Glancing, he finds Mingyu and Chan already hanging on the suspended ropes, making their way towards the empty deck of their ship. 

Hoshi keeps his eyes on the occupied men on board, still staring at the lightshow that was their old ship. It isn’t until one of them turns, eyes towards the stairs that lead to the lower decks, that his eyes dart to the unfamiliar men on the deck. 

“Fuck,” Hoshi curses, before lunging, grabbing the man by the shoulders and covering his mouth, dragging him wordlessly to the edge before throwing him off the ship and into the icy waters below. 

“Go!” he hears you rasp brom behind him, ushering him to the ropes. 

The crew is gone, Jun making the last jump to land on the deck. They’re running around, pulling ropes and fastening the sails to push the ship off into open waters as soon as possible. 

There’s two ropes that tie the two ships together, and Hoshi ushers you onto one of them, pushing you to suspend yourself before he follows. 

“There’s not enough time, go to the other one!” you tell him, pushing him to hold onto the other tattered rope. 

Soonyoung eyes your state, “Are you sure you can—”

“Yes! I promise I can, please, before they cut both the ropes.”

So he trusts you, eyes straight ahead to the railing of his ship, gripping the rough, frayed rope to push himself towards the deck. His hands burn, but he finds himself moving ever closer to his final destination. 

His hand grabs hold of the wooden railing of his Tigress at long last, pulling himself onto the deck of his beloved ship. Immediately whipping his head to his right, he tries to find you reaching the ship with him. The crew is preoccupied in attempting to get the ship ready for departure, he finds your form nowhere. 

When he looks back, the rope he had climbed was gone, leaving gaping space in its absence. He trails the second rope, from the hook that had dug into the railing of Tigress’s wood, trailing it to the naval ship’s deck. 

What he sees puts his heart in his throat. 

You stand on the deck of your father’s ship, swarmed by now alert guards and soldiers who swarm you, yelling profanities and orders as they watch their prisoners get away right in front of them. 

Hoshi watches as you lift your dagger, and cut the last rope that ties you together, free to fall and hit against the hull of his ship.

He calls out your name in what could only be described as a guttural scream. 

His crew halts whatever it was they were doing, taking the steps to realise what had just happened. 

Hoshi’s boot meets the top of the railing, ready to take the plunge into the water. He’d climb back up the ship and get you out. He doesn’t know what you were thinking, what he was thinking when he left you there, but he’d get you out. 

Arms pulling him, he’s yanked back and positively thrown onto the deck.

“What is wrong with you?” Minghao yells, pushing his captain back as he springs up. 

“She—”

Your father emerges from the crowd of guards and soldiers that run rampant on the deck, approaching you at the railing of the main deck. 

Hoshi sees the hand that remains on his shoulder, the blood that covers the still bleeding wound, the effort it takes him to simply walk. 

The bruises on your neck, the wound at his shoulder that looks like it was slashed through by a knife. 

And then it clicks in Hoshi’s head, what had truly happened in the hours that you were out of his sight. And all he sees is red.

WITH THE WAY THE words on the pages seem to double, you would’ve thought you were going mad. 

You’re a child, barely grown into your own body as you sit in the dimly lit library of the palace, utterly exhausted, wishing to be anywhere but sitting at the wooden desk with your name on it. The moon barely shone through the window, your only source of light the fireplace that burned in the corner and your lamplight. 

It was a time where you felt like you could prove yourself, that perhaps, the reason your father refused you his approval was because you were simply not working hard enough. And now, at an hour where you should be fast asleep in your four poster bed, you attempt to understand diplomatic structures and everything that made your country what it was. 

It was late, and there was nothing you would’ve liked more than to put your head on the table and rest your eyes for a few tantalising seconds, which you do, right over the book you were reading. 

You awoke in the same place, shaken awake by a panicked looking servant, the sun shining through the great windows of the palace library.

It seems your disappearance from your bedchambers had put the entire palace in disarray, not realising the princess was fast asleep behind the giant pile of books other servants had already skimmed past thrice. 

Not only were you unable to recite the rankings of the constitutions with the vigour your father required, but you were unable to give him a reason as to why you were absent for both breakfast and morning lessons. 

He made the servants kneel in the throne room for hours, and did not fail to tell you that it was all your fault.

And now, in the ice cold of the Green Islands, old and wise enough to know that your father simply needed a reason to despise his heir, you accept the hands around your throat as his final act of terror. 

Red faced and arms shaking, your father does not speak to you as he presses down on your windpipe with all his might. Your vision is going dark and splotchy, and you decide, for a moment, to let him have this moment. 

He’s too preoccupied in applying his pressure to realise that you’ve raised your right foot enough for your hands to fish out your knife from its place, taking positivity in the handle of your knife that fits in your hand. 

Before you can lose consciousness, you raise your arm high, and plunge it directly into his neck. 

Howling, he releases you from his hold, both of you dropping to the floor of the ship with a resonating thud. You cough, sputter and hack, cold hands finding your now warm neck. 

Your father lays clutching his shoulder as he remains in agony on the floor, and you realise you missed the crucial plunge in your own disarray. 

It was good enough, rendering the old man incapable of finding his bearings. 

You watch as he writhes on the floor of the quarters that almost became your figurative deathbed, the same hands that wrapped around his own daughter’s throat now clutching the shallow wound that renders him useless. 

Standing over him, throwing your own shadow on his body, you feel a surge of power, a rush of adrenaline that shoots straight to your head. Perhaps this was your circulation returning from the deprivation, but you let the feeling imprint in your soul, let your father’s broken figure bring you satisfaction.

You leave him there, writhing in pain, digging your knife under the lock of the quarters, pulling back to break it away from the door. The guards stationed outside do nothing as you leave, and it isn’t until you’ve taken to lower decks that you hear the distinct yell of, “Your Majesty!”

Two more guards, who don’t expect an altercation from their princess, simply buffer as you send your knife plunging into them both. You do it deep this time. 

Nobody was innocent, you knew these people as your father’s closest men, and knew that all of them were to remain silent as their King murdered his daughter. And when the remorse doesn’t do that thing where it trickles in after doing a bad thing, you decide you weren’t part of the innocents either.

It’s easier than you would’ve expected to get to the crew in the brig, letting out a sigh of relief as you appreciate the familiarity of people on your side. 

And when Hoshi took his place to guide everyone out and into the open space of the main deck, you let your racing mind rest and decide to trust the man in whatever decision he made to lead you all out. And he did, he led himself and his crew right into the ship that was theirs, safe and where they would have the upper hand. 

Hoshi didn’t know it when he climbed onto the ropes that lead to his boat that he wouldn’t have made it if you hadn’t stayed, hadn’t used your voice of authority to keep the soldiers from attempting to shoot at the escapees, cut the rope while Hoshi remained suspended from it, still only halfway there. 

You didn’t look at him when you sliced both ropes before either party could pull back, didn’t register him screaming your name across the void, pretending it wasn’t taking everything out of your strength.

But you couldn’t jump into the water, not now when a dozen of the royal guards remained ready to take the plunge to save their princess as their duty. The same guards that would comply with their king when told the princess was dead for reasons they all knew but were to forget. 

The bomb had to go off first, and you had to keep them away from hooking another line to the ship in the meantime. You were operating on a flawed plan and an overenthusiastic crowd of guards that were moments away from shooting a canon straight into the side of the disconnected pirate ship.  

The distraction comes in the form of your father parting the crowd of soldiers like the red sea, swatting every soldier that attempts to help his bleeding form for anything it was worth. He approaches you at the railing, and for once, you don’t look at the ground in his presence. 

“Bold,” he heaves, the effort in his voice apparent. “Bold of you to think you could slip away.”

“I haven’t tried to slip away, father,” you correct. “I’ve stayed right here, even after you failed to kill me. And I, you.” 

“Nobody is going to listen to you, child. Give in. This is the easy way out,” he says. 

As if on cue, Jun’s bomb goes off for the second time, but this time the ship shudders with more force. It has your father unbalance and fall, along with multiple other soldier’s stumbling. You grip the railing tight, counting on your father’s need to live. 

Despite your horrid throat and the ache in your body, you announce as loud as you can. “The bomb is in the brig, this ship is sinking.”

The fallen king trembles in a rage you had never quite seen before. Any other time of your life, you would’ve wished for the ground to swallow you whole to be the subject of such anger. 

Except, in the setting sun, a burning ship in the background, a pirate ship that awaits you, and the ground beneath your feet that was actively sinking into the freezing water; you smile at your doomed King. 

“Get to the brig! Secure the lower decks, do not let this ship sink or so help me God!” His voice rings across the deck, spittle blowing from his mouth at the situation. 

And just like that, your father gives you the final gift of clearing the main deck out for you, leaving but a few straggling soldiers that are too preoccupied with either the sinking ship or their bleeding sovereign. 

Looking back, you find the crew of Tigress standing at the railing, you find Hoshi already half over the edge and send him a slow nod. 

Turning back to your father that remains on the floor of the ship that would become his coffin, you utter your next words; for yourself, and the girl that was every second before this, all the way to her first ever memory of sad:

“You’ve taught me to be a ruler fit to be the best for our Kingdom. Consider your death my first act of service for the Crown.”

And then you jumped into the darkening void of the waters below. 

THE COLD FEELS LIKE every nerve in your body ceased to work. 

It was nothing at first, the temperature so intense it had your body numb in the face of shock. And then it grew, to a striking cold, and then a feeling that pricked every inch of your skin like a million needles plunging into your body. It was only getting worse with each passing second, before it was so painful it was hot, going from cold to searing and blistering like you’d plunged into the licks of flames. 

Nowhere in your body did you find a rational sense of mind, something to tell you to kick, flail or float. The warped sky was an orange through the green, only more vibrant. Like there were two ships actively burning on the surface of this water. 

Hoshi’s face appears behind your closing eyelids, like a mirage or a taunt. Like he was there with you when he wasn’t. 

Would he come for you? Would he take the plunge for the girl he held in his arms, promising her something to fill the gap of a companion, right before she killed her own? 

You’d given him what he wanted; your father, his worst enemy, dying as he sank slowly into the bottom of the ocean. You’d run your course of use, and if he was as smart as people claimed, he’d leave you to suffer the same fate as your father. 

He could find his freedom elsewhere. 

And you would find your freedom in the close of your eyes, and the sinking feeling of nothingness. 

Except, you feel a hardness against your body, stronger even than the current of the waters. Moving impossibly upwards, you remember opening your eyes to find a leather cord suspended in the float of the water, before you remember nothing. 

THE GREEN ISLANDS WERE on fire.  

But as unnatural as it seemed, Hoshi had no inclination to register anything but the way the ship in front of him tilts so far out it's already half submerged in the waters. He’d assumed they might have to ready the cannons, but with the way debris and hollowed wood floats in the waters below, they would not need to. 

The King was about to be introduced to Davy Jones’ Locker at the hands of his enemy and successor, but Hoshi could not care enough right now to relish in it. 

Right now, he stares at the direct circumference of water your body had made contact with and disappeared into, like the world would explode if he lost his place. 

“Should I jump as well?” Mingyu asks, already half taking his boots off. However, when the man turns to find his captain gone, he lurches over the railing to find his captain diving into the water through all the debris.

Hoshi lets the momentum of his dive take him as further down as possible, whipping his head around as soon as his eyes open into the abyss. The water ripples and erupts in showers of bubbles as broken pieces of ship come apart to fall into the water. It blurs his vision immensely, any ripple that could be you in the water coming out to be yet another piece of wasted wood. 

The deeper he goes, the more the water presses into his ears. He was a good swimmer, good at holding his breath when needed, but even he had limits. 

When he cannot see any sign of you, he begins to feel the churning of something skin to panic brew. Panic was never good, not this deep in the water. 

Twisting and turning, flailing about in place, moving dangerously closer to the burning ship that continued to drop flaming bits of killing slabs, he finds no sign of you in the water. 

Instead, he watches men in uniform sink deeper and deeper in their failed attempts to stay afloat. 

All he can think about is if they were losing the battle for air, then so were you, somewhere deeper in the void than he was. He prays that he’s looking aimlessly, that you’ve already somehow made your way to the surface by yourself, and you were safe on the deck. 

The beaded bracelet that remained on his wrist, but belonged to you. 

“A reason for you to come out of this alive.”

Even without the encasing on his wrist, you had given him more than enough reason to want to come out of this alive, to want to live beyond just for himself and his duty to the crew he’d taken in. 

He chose the life of a pirate because it was his only out, and every member of his crew that he recruited in succession, he acted as the hand he had needed so desperately in that awful brothel where his mother despised him and his father, a faceless man of Port Ash. 

Amphitrite was not kind, it was a lesson he learned quickly in his first ventures out at sea. So he too, had to learn to be unkind, to survive in the horrid bellies of ships that weren’t his own. And when Tigress came into his life like a vessel of hope, he found a home in her merciful wood, in the ship that he could call his very own. 

Hoshi lived as a free man on his ship, with his crew that had become his brothers in ways beyond what the thick of blood could offer. He did not care if he lived or died after that, as long as it was on his ship, in the waters that held no quarter for anyone, but gave him everything that nothing else could give him. 

And so when you approached him with a proposal so bizarre yet so apt for a man like him, he could not refuse. It may have been the way he saw himself in you, terrified of the prospects  but thirsting for an escape more than the fear that came with it. 

Besides, the king was a nuisance that needed to go, and he found himself agreeing to play the hand too complicated for you. 

What he did not expect was to end up here, in the depths of the ocean in the most uninhabitable part of the earth, trying to pull you out of the cold, unrelenting sea. 

Hoshi realises in that moment that this might ruin him, the possibility of breaking the surface without you. 

He decides that if the heavens do not let him find you, he would simply drown in the same waters that gave him purpose, and find peace with the idea that he would lay rest in the same waters as the person who might have given him something more. 

Kwon Soonyoung, the deadliest pirate to cleave the seas, was in love with you. A princess, so undeserving of a man like him; a bastard, a rogue, a good for nothing criminal. 

And when he spots the all too familiar build of your form, the linen shirt under the corset he had tied for you just hours ago, the dark brown trousers that signified the change he’d brought into your life, he swore to leave everything he’d ever known to thank the skies and seas for bringing him to you.

His burning lungs, screaming and searing for air, grabbing for your suspended arm that looked as defeated as your closed eyes. Tugging you towards him, he wraps his arm around you to press you to him as tight as he could. 

Relief. And with the warm sting in his eyes that he doubted was from the salt in the water, he’s sure of everything he’s felt with the feeling of you in his arms. 

With the bruising on your neck, the bleeding wound in your father’s shoulder, he finds it within his breaking body to begin kicking upwards. 

Every limb, every cell, every hint of life in his body shrieked with its efforts to make him stop. There was no air in his lungs and he’d lost track of time in his search for you, he doesn’t know how long he has. 

But if the blots of nothingness in his eyes were anything to go with, he doesn’t presume he has much. In a last ditch effort, he attempts to kick his boots off to weigh him down a little less, holding your dead weight tighter than anything. 

He was so close, he could feel the warmth of the upper levels of the water change in its temperature on his skin. The glow was near blinding as the orange refracted on the disrupted surface of the ocean, so close yet so far. 

Inch by inch, kick by kick, memory by memory, he does everything left in his drained power to touch the surface. 

And he does, breaking out hand first into the burning air of the world above, taking the longest gasp of air he ever has in his life. Once he’s sure he knows where he is, he pushes you up further on his chest, your head resting against his collarbone, still unconscious. 

“Stay with me, princess,” he pants into your ear, hoping you could hear. “I’ve got you.”

Chan and Mingyu are in the water beside him, pushing him towards the pulley that awaited them. 

Mingyu makes an attempt to take your weight of his already struggling captain, but Hoshi finds himself holding on to you tighter, simply urging him to help him back on the deck. 

The minute your head hits the wood of the deck, he’s checking your pulse. There’s no regard for the chaos that ensues around Tigress, both him and his crew too preoccupied with the way you were not breathing. 

“I–I can’t feel anything,” he stutters his words as Seungkwan places a less panicked hand at your neck, under your nose. 

“It’s weak, she’s taken in too much water.”

In an instant, he reaches for his knife at his hip, only to realise it was gone, lost somewhere in his rescue. 

“Knife,” he rasps before repeating louder. “Someone give me a knife!” 

The minute a hilt is in his hands, he’s pushing you over, to reach the back of your constricting corset, pushing his knife into the complicated sailing knot he’d tied it into before, breaking it free. With both hands, he takes hold of the top of the corset and rips it clean in half. 

Turning you back over, he presses his hands over your clothed stomach, pushing into it with all his strength in an attempt to get the water out of your system. He keeps his eyes on your face, and when he sees no sign of you coming round, he feels another set of hands pushing him off. 

Seungkwan takes over for his weakened captain, pushing into your stomach harder, attempting to get a break out of you. 

“Why isn’t she coming around, what’s going on?” He throws the question aimlessly as he takes your unmoving face in his hands, trembling from everything. 

Only a moment later, he hears the glorious sound of you sputtering like something was stuck in your throat, promptly spilling out an ungodly amount of water onto the deck as you retch loudly. 

Sitting up from the force, your hands clamp onto the deck as you cough and heave, Hoshi’s hand coming behind you to thump your back hard, pushing you to throw up any remaining seawater from your body. 

The sight of your back moving up and down, the audible sound of you taking in air; it was enough for Hoshi to simply lay on the deck and pass out. 

You rear your head and look up at him, both of you still breathing heavily. 

“You’re okay,” he assures, gulping. He takes your face in hands cupping it very gently as he speaks to you. “Go with Seungkwan, you’re okay, you’re safe.”

Nodding, you let yourself be helped up by the rest of the crew, watching as you’re led to the lower decks of the ship. 

“Open your shirt, let me see the wound,” Mingyu says, and Hoshi doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Looking down, he sees his shirt soaked in red, sticking to a wound on the right side of his torso. He didn’t even know where he got it. 

It looks like a shallow gash, but enough to leave a scar. He takes it better to have it tended to while he was still high on adrenaline and he couldn’t feel much of the pain. 

By the time Mingyu and Minghao are done cleaning him up and Hoshi’s standing upright with wobbly legs, he finds the two burning ships beyond his own mere floating structures of wood that were in slow flame. There’s too much debris, too many bits of everything that bob in the large expanse of water to make out any bodies. 

“There’s nobody,” Mingyu tells him. “Most of them were in lower decks when it all went down. Trapped themselves.”

“And…?” he asks in silence. 

“He stayed on the deck until it sank,” Minghao informs. “Yelling about how he…about how he should’ve finished her when he had the chance.”

“Horrible king and somehow an even worse father,” Mingyu scoffs. “Made it better to watch him die.”

“He didn’t suffer enough,” Hoshi croaks as the marks on your throat dot his vision. 

Just then, floating in the water, illuminated by the final streaks of setting light, Hoshi sees it. A darkened purple cloth right next to the hull.

“That,” he points out. “Get that out of the water.”

The late king’s purple cape laid on the deck of Tigress, darkened with water, but also with his blood.

To the Kingdom, this cape would be the last piece of their King that was gone too soon. But for every person on this ship, it would forever be their spoils of war.

Hoshi makes sure the cape will be dried and stored, ordering his crew to begin their slow journey out of the Green Islands, before he too crumples onto the deck unconscious. 

IT WAS A SPECTACLE to see Hoshi in his element. 

Something about how he seemed to beam, like this ship was charging him a different kind of energy. It was infectious, the rest of the ship decreasingly sour as they put on musical performances on the main deck while they cleaned the floors. 

As relieved as you felt, the tight ball of anxiety refused to leave the pit of your stomach as you grew closer to the Kingdom. Nothing could prepare you for the shitstorm you’d have to deal with the moment you’d step onto the soil off a pirate ship of all things—let alone as Queen. 

The first few days following the ship's exit from the Green Islands were difficult, if that was all you had to describe it. You took to your hammock for most of the day, curled up as you pretended to sleep, only waking up when one of the crew would come down to force feed you and to make sure you hadn’t died. 

You knew they were doing all this to make you feel better, and somehow it was working. More than halfway through your journey, you began to feel more like yourself, emerging from your cave to visit the deck on times other than the nights. 

Even now, as you sit on the floor of the deck with Seungkwan, who hands you an all too familiar stack of parchment, you feel nothing as you take them into your hands. As you read his handwriting scrawled in ink, you appreciate your past self for having the sense to keep them all. 

“I’m glad you’re feeling better now,” he says to you. “Had us worried for a while there.”

“Sorry.” You smile weakly. “But thank you for…everything. I don’t think I could ever express how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. All of you.”

“I’d like to think we’ve gone past the status of mere business partners,” Seungkwan chuckles. “Lion befriends the bear? Whatever it is. But know we’d do it again.”

Blinking back the sting of tears and doing your very best to not let the warm feeling in your chest overwhelm you, you place the letters on the floor next to your folded legs. When you look up, Seungkwan's eyes are on your neck.

“They’re taking their time to fade, aren’t they?” you say. 

Seungkwan has a hard look in his eye, “I guess you didn’t need your letters to remind you of anything after all.”

Your mind wanders, drifting past how easily this crew could have been forgotten in the unforgiving elements. Perhaps you would have let the man that wrapped his hands around your neck finish his job.

“Was getting captured part of your grand plan?” you ask Seungkwan. 

“Hm?” It takes a moment to realise what you may be questioning him about, smiling slightly. “What makes you think we went in with a plan?”

“I thought I asked you to man the wheel?” Hoshi stands above the both of you.

“Not to batten down the hatches,” he side-eyed his captain. “Clear waters ahead, the wheel does not need manning.” 

You zone out as they squabble over nothing, not finding the heart to be entertained by their back and forth. Seungkwan either loses or forfeits, because you feel him rise from next to you, only for his captain to take his place. 

“What are you thinking about?” Hoshi asks. 

“Everything,” you sigh. 

“How come Seungkwan gets a thank you for your service and I don’t? Need I remind you who jumped for you and who didn’t?”

Rolling your eyes, you answer him, “Thank you, Captain Hoshi Kwon, I am forever indebted to your service.”

He chuckles in exaggeration, “Oh please, all in a day's work.”

“I mean it.”

“Hm?”

“I never did say thank you. But you did jump for me when you didn’t have to.”

“Who said I didn’t have to?”

“Our deal was done.”

“Of course not,” he scoffs. “Our deal was to get you out when you jumped. I merely honoured that promise!”

“Merely?” you raise a brow. “Was it all merely a matter of conscience?”

His gaze locks with yours. “Don’t ask questions you know the answers for. I would’ve jumped even if you asked me to rope myself to the mast.”

“Please. I have enough blood on my hands and I haven’t even sat on my throne yet.”

“Blood is only on your hands if you tell a soul of what you’ve done,” Hoshi utters. “You’re the only living soul who knows.”

“And you are…?”

“Pirate. Our word means nothing.” Hoshi smiles. 

The thought hangs in the air as you take in the man in front of you. He’s changed an era’s worth, yet all the same. His hair is longer, going from his initial shorter crop to curling around his ears, shielding his eyes. It makes him look younger, like a boy with much to live for. 

That, and the multitude of notable scars he’s added to his collection, many of which have somehow been because of you. The wound at his torso is doing better, but far to go in its quest to heal. 

Hoshi senses something amiss even after his sermon. Breaking his gaze, he turns to look straight ahead at the raised bow of the ship instead. 

“Do you know how I got my splendid reputation for being the filthiest pirate on the seas?”

You can only stare, “I have a few guesses.”

He chortles, “Other than my criminal status.”

“Tell me.”

“Unnamed sailors have the odds of a peanut facing its inevitable fate of being crushed under a straggling boot. Pirates don’t see the government as their enemy when they’re own supposed brothers are more likely to jam a cannon in their mouths.”

He lets out a heavy sigh before continuing, “My mistake wasn’t that I was on the losing side in my early days, but more about how I was leaving nothing behind when I was done.”

“How humble,” you hum. 

“Dead men tell no tales. When it’s worth it, it might be better to leave a straggler or two to live to tell the tale. A routine stab in the jugular can turn you into somewhat of a myth.”

“Am I a survivor?” you question. 

“You may be sovereign on land, but you’re also an unnamed pirate,” he responds, turning back to lock eyes with you. “And you’ve left nobody to tell the tale.”

No one listens to a pirate, and everyone listens to a Queen. 

“This isn’t to say there won’t be a legend that follows you.” He quirks a brow as he speaks. “Shows up and claims her father and his entire ship and crew sank at sea, only to befriend his sworn enemies in the aftermath. And then it evolves; she sent a cannon through her fathers ship, he died at the end of his own daughter's sword, she cursed him to captain a crew of the undead for eternity.”

“Have I planted the seeds for yet another ghost story?” It’s difficult to not giggle at the thought, despite how morbid. 

“You’ve given yourself substance,” he says, a little stronger than before. His eyes too, wander to your neck and the bruises that refuse to budge. “Beyond just a royal or even a pirate. You did it for your honour as a human being, and that may be braver than anything I have ever conquered.”

In your anxiety ridden, feeble mind, your thoughts had convinced your conscience that everything would be over the minute your father’s heart stopped beating. That it would bring you peace at last. 

And it did, especially when it felt like you’d gotten rid of this constant monster under the bed that had followed you far into adulthood. But from the bleeding heart of the creature emerged yet another one of its brethren, and then another and then another. 

Smaller albeit, but monsters nonetheless. Problems nonetheless. 

Weeks of this, and in one short interaction, Hoshi seemed to have given you the key to turn this monster into a pet. 

On instinct, you feel your hand reach up, brushing against the skin of his cheek. It’s an all too familiar setting, seated on the deck of a ship too close for anybody but yours’ comfort. But without the rum and resentment, of course. And how you doubt he’d pull away this time. 

Very lightly, you brush your lips against his. It was nothing but to simply feel him again, to feel a semblance of familiarity. 

You feel him take your hand that rests on his cheek to place a kiss on your palm, nuzzling his nose into the concave of your hand. 

Everything that was to come seemed a little more possible in that very moment. 

Even more so when his fingers found the sensitive areas of your coloured throat, when his lips closed against your jaw, only to trail lower and to press into the marks his fingers continue to trail tucked into your neck. 

That night, when slipping into your hammock felt like the most unbearable prospect in your near future, it couldn’t possibly be worse than uttering your next question to the man that seems to fix it all.  

“Will you stay with me?”

With nothing but the light snores of the rest of the crew and the creaking of the ship, both you and Soonyoung laid in a hammock most definitely not meant for two. Head on his chest, ear pressed against where his heart beats under his scar, it’s bliss. 

The feeling of his warm body against yours and the scent of him settling in your lungs, you decide that this was enough. At least for now. 

IT WAS DIFFICULT TO give yourself the full list for obvious reasons, but it does seem to help when you tick off all the possible reasons why your patience has run as thin as it has. 

Sitting at the decorated seat at the convened court of old men appointed by your father, you briefly wonder if you should finish them off too amidst your flash of anger. The men continue to squabble and babble about the next course of action, slamming their wrinkled hands on the pristine table and sending their own daggers of threats to the other inhabitants of the table. 

“If you’d like to send a search party for the King’s body, be my guest,” you finally speak, having had quite enough when the throb in your temple worsens. “But remind me what troops you’ll be sending to the North if your best men will be gone for months attempting to find a body they never will.”

The dispute in the North side of the Kingdom was taking up most of the conversation anyway, and you doubt they’d put customary burial rites over their own glory of victory the North would bring. 

“Your Majesty—”

“I would happily jump on the next search ship for my father,” you lie through your teeth. “But I watched him drown in front of my own two eyes, and as the next sovereign I cannot let you waste our resources for something that will both risk our soldier’s lives and have them come back home empty handed.”

Perhaps you had come off slightly more heartless than you intended, so you quickly add, “Please, let my father rest in peace.”

That seems to end the conversation easier than you had expected, but they’re quick to jump to the next issue not long after. 

“The court would also like to bring light upon the palace guests.”

Tightening your jaw, you slump against your seat slightly. “What about them?”

They remain silent as their mouthpiece attempts to form the right words for the following question, mostly because you’ve addressed this multiple times beforehand but they continue to sit restless. 

“Allow me to help you, Lord Bridge,” you sit up straighter, intending to put this matter to rest. “My guests will remain here for as long as they do, and if you have any more arising issues towards my guests I will only take it as your collective issues towards me.” 

In the moment of silence, you continue, “The Kingdom is in a place of instability as we are all well aware. I find it most appalling that you remain fixated on trivial matters of the palace’s domestic code of conduct than you do for the wellbeing of this country!”

Silence yet again as you wait for their forcibly rehearsed chorus of apologies. 

“Our greatest apologies, your Majesty.”

The pain in your temples becomes near unbearable as you dismiss the table after that, screeching your chair as you push it back as loud as you possibly can to do nothing but spite the men. 

Turning the corner out of the room, you catch the open gates that lead to the paved gardens outside, the sun seeping into the marble floors indoors. Taking an instinctive step towards the gardens, you find most of the crew sprawled onto the grass as they soak in the sun. 

Chan and Seungkwan look like they’re wrestling, their laughter ringing throughout the open court while their captain snaps at them to cut it out, only to get roped under one of their headlocks all the same. 

There’s a call of your name and a giant wave from Mingyu, who spots you from beyond the flower beds. Still leaning against the gates, you smile and wave back. 

Years the halls of the palace had gone, never hearing laughter in its walls. And something about watching them let themselves ruin the petunias and laugh so loud it echoes, heals you just a bit. 

Even that night, when you find yourself in your giant four poster bed you’ve slept in since you were a child, this time dozing under the arm of another, you feel the itch of a healing wound somewhere in your heart. 

Soonyoung laid with you for every night on the ship since that night, and stayed even here where the space was big enough to host the ghosts of your worries if not distracted. 

He had found you on that first night in the palace still awake, haunting the library fireplace with another stack of papers to keep you company. 

“Can’t sleep?” he’d asked as he picked up some of your documents. 

“Clearly not,” you huff. The papers were mere decorations as you attempted to find an excuse to leave your rooms. 

“You realise you won’t be much of an effective monarch if you exhaust yourself to death?”  

There was no answer to that, especially when you were absorbing nothing of your new duties. You’d expected to fall asleep on the armrest of the uncomfortable settee whenever it was that you exhausted your brain of thoughts, even then refusing to sleep in that large bed. 

He’s awfully persuasive, because as he tucks you into those very sheets, about to leave but not before placing a kiss on your forehead You stop him. 

“Stay. Please.”

True as he has always been, he does.

THE CROWN IS HEAVIER than you had expected, even more so when it remains on your head for longer than your previously practised sessions walking around the throne room. The crew was exceptionally good at giving you things to train with, including fraudulent rodent scares to ensure the crown would not topple from your own head the minute you rise from your coronation.

And now, as you finally remove the decorative piece from your head after your actual coronation to replace it with something lighter for the following ball, you find relief in the fact that you’d only ever have to wear the actual thing only a few times in your life. 

Everything moves as smoothly as it could, the decorated pirates that saved their Queen from a horrid shipwreck taking up most of the attendees attention as they either question inquisitively or send snarky remarks to the men who are well versed in how to rebut in true informal manner. 

The past months had taken up more of your time than you had anticipated, and during the latter half of the still twinkling party, you attempted to spot the person you’ve been trying to corner all night. 

Soonyoung stands at the edges of the gathering, empty handed as you watch him reject yet another offer for a drink from the trays that float about. His attire is the most formal you had ever seen, his face scrubbed and hair pushed back for the glorious occasion. 

Approaching him from the sidelines, you take hold of his wrists and pull him towards one of the many doors in the ballroom and into a hallway you knew for a fact was rarely ever frequented. 

“I feel I haven’t seen you ages,” you say once you’re sure you’re alone. 

“Probably best for you to keep busy,” he replies with the smallest smile. 

“Have the wrappings on your wound come off?”

Looking at his covered torso, he runs an instinctive hand over where the wound was. “Just a smaller patch now, but it’s nearly there. Disappointed it won’t scar too much.”

“Disappointed?” 

“These are my spoils of war, miss princess,” he adds with a smirk, before correcting himself. “Ah, miss queen?”

“Doesn’t have the same ring,” you comment. 

“The crown suits you.” His voice is soft and sincere.

Scoffing a little, you answer, “I would hope it did.”

“Although, I do prefer you in trousers and a knife.”

Laughing, you can only agree. Especially in your heavier than yourself dress and jewels. “I think I prefer them too.”

At the mention of your new status, he asks, “Shouldn’t you be milling between your new subjects?” 

Keeping your eyes on his face, you wait until he meets your gaze. “I have more important things to attend to.”

He breaks eye contact first, and you can feel the distance grow further. One reach and you could take his hand in yours. 

But you don’t. 

“I know I’ve been quite busy, but…” you trail off as you attempt to find the words. “Is something the matter? What’s going on?”

With a long sigh, he runs a hand through his kept hair, effectively tousling it a little. “I was going to wait until after the ball to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

He makes no moves to look at you when he utters his next words. “The crew and I will be leaving at dawn tomorrow. We’ve taken up enough of your space and it’s best if we don’t intrude any further.”

It’s like you’ve taken a blow to the chest, the air knocked out of your lungs as you register what he’s just said. “You’re….you’re leaving?”

“I would think we’ve both gotten what we wanted. We had a deal.”

Deal? Why was he mentioning that now?

“Are you going to abandon me too?”

His head snaps up to finally meet your eye, mouth opening closing as words betray him. 

“What happened to what you said about gaining you? All of you?” There’s a blatant accusation in your words.

“And you have! We’ll visit. Assuming the state doesn’t want my head on a pike anymore,” he chuckles uncomfortably. 

In a moment of desperation, you take his hand in both of yours; his scarred, gnarled hands that tell you even in the dark who’s warmth it is that you feel every night next to you. 

“Stay. Stay with me, please,” you plead. “I can’t live in this place alone, I despised it when I was young and I’ll only despise it even more now.”

Soonyoung brings his other hand to clasp over both of your own, eyes closing as you hear him take a somewhat shaky breath. “I’m doing this for the both of us.”

“So am I! I can’t possibly rule a kingdom by myself.”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone—”

“I don’t want someone! I want you!”

He begins to whisper your name, moving his face away to blink rapidly. 

“How do you feel about becoming a pirate king? I can never forbid you from the waters, that’s your home, and you will have it.”

He does not look at you, but you know he’s listening more intently than ever before.

“But I ask you as someone who loves you more than I have ever anything else, will you stay and marry me?”

Soonyoung falters as he absorbs the fact that you’ve just proposed to him. 

“I—” he stutters. “The court—”

“The court wouldn’t dare to deny me the man that saved my life.”

You squeeze his hand tighter, moving impossibly closer. 

“And even if they do, I'm ready to fight for the man who fought for me. So answer me as a man and not a pirate, Kwon Soonyoung, will you marry me?”

Soonyoungs mouth enclosing over your own is all the answer you need as you feel him break free of your hands to let them find your waist instead. Amidst the pile of fabric he pushes himself into you as close as possible, letting your hands guide his head to move against your mouth. 

It’s everything, as you grip onto the back of his shoulder, pressing unforgettably into his open mouth. He takes in your bottom lip between his own, sucking before letting go, only to engulf your mouth once again. 

“We’ll figure it out,” you whisper against his lips, feeling the nuzzle of his nose against the apple of your cheek, hot tears spilling from your eyes. “I promise, we’ll figure everything out.”

He shushes you when he feels you shudder in his hold, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. “No need to torment your pretty head. Not right now.”

For once, you listen to your pirate captain without a fight, simply feeling the stretch of your lips as he moves down to capture them once more. 

The pressure of his hands isn’t nearly as strong as it would’ve felt without the layers upon layers of fabric that cover your form, but standing in this desolate hallway, you swear his fingers might as well be caressing your bare skin underneath. 

The thought sends your mind into a dazzling spin, letting go of his mouth with a gasp, suddenly needing to take a step back. 

“I have to—I have to go back inside,” you breathe into his slick mouth. “Meet me outside my quarters at midnight.”

As scandalous as it was, you could not deny how alive it made you feel to be like this, meeting in darker corners in the dead of night. But for now, you allow him to fix the bits of your ensemble you could not see. With the bad of his thumb, he blends in the smudges of your rouge, swiping at your lips ever so delicately to ensure he leaves no trace of himself. Tucking the loose strands of hair back behind your ears, and finally, fixing the encrusted crown on your head, a flash of one of the diamond’s gleams reflecting onto his perfect face. 

“You’re beautiful.” There’s a dazed look that graces him. “Beyond beautiful.”

With one last innocent press of your smiling mouth onto his, you promise him your midnight. 

BY THE TIME IT was finally an appropriate hour for you to excuse yourself for the evening, you were near to exploding entirely. 

Whispers of “Are you alright, your Majesty?” plaguing you through your already racing mind. It was beyond difficult to keep the constant shaking of your foot unobvious, however you could not simply up and leave whenever you wanted—at least not yet. The monarch would remain in an unstable authoritative position for quite some time after ascension, and with the unorthodox situation at hand, you assume you’d really have to push yourself if you were to be of any use as sovereign. 

But when the time finally came and you were escorted out of the grand ballroom, only mere ticks away from the resounding bells of midnight, you were holding back from breaking into a sprint. Outside your quarters it was empty, but you remain steadfast in your refusal for your ladies in waiting tonight, promising you could dress yourself for bed on your own. 

Standing at the double doors of your rooms, still the princess’ quarters as you refuse to move into the Queen’s rooms, you stand waiting. The two guards remain staring straight ahead, and you wait for the clicking of your ladies to go muffled before you ask. 

“Has the Captain approached?” 

“No, your Majesty.”

You try not to feel disappointed, despite knowing the midnight bells were yet to sound. “If he does, allow him in, please.” 

Opening the double doors, you half wish you had let your ladies help you out of the god awful dress, tight and loose in all the wrong places. The jewels are thrown haphazardly on your vanity, needing the heavyweight of them off of your body. 

Perhaps months of little to no bedazzling had rendered you incapable of wearing anything mildly less comfortable than linen and leather, but you suppose you’d slip back into the habit just as easily as you slipped out of it. Your nightgown feels like heaven on your tired, tired body, and the dimly lit interior of your bedchamber is only encouraging you to slip under your covers and fall deep into sleep. 

That was one thing about the ship you doubt you’d ever miss. 

Three rapt knocks outside of the heavy double doors have you sitting rapt at attention, hastily making your way to the door from your vanity. Pressing the front of your nightgown down, you open the door slightly and poke your head out. 

Soonyoung stands at the door, nervous of all things, still clad in his full suit. You smile as you let him in, closing the door to turn the lock. 

“Your guards mortify me.” 

“Oh? So they’re doing their job right?” You walk up to him and grasp onto his lapels, pulling him down to meet the lips you’ve missed so much despite only being hours apart. “Why? Has this big bad pirate found his match in the palace guards of all places?”

“Hmm,” he’s humming against your lips. “I could take them both.”

Giggling like you were in love, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close. 

“I hope you weren’t bothered too much,” you say. “The aristocracy seem to have being a pain in the ass written in their birthrights.”

“I think they were too scared to approach, probably thought I’d start swearing and snatching the pearls right off their necks. Some of them were bearable, asked me how long my sword was.”

It’s difficult to not laugh at that, “Well?”

He raises his brows unceremoniously, “Won’t you like to know?”

Taking the opportunity while you giggled uncontrollably at the situation, he goes back placing never ending kisses to your mouth. Sighing involuntarily, you melt into him once again, infinitely more relaxed than in the hallway. 

Soonyoung’s eyelashes brush against yours in a whisper of their own, only reminding you how close you were to him in the moment. His kisses go from soft and fleeting to something with a little more vigour. The warmth of his mouth goes back to overtaking the lower half of your face, sucking and licking into your mouth like his life depended on it. 

If your mind was reeling when his hands were merely ghosts of pressure over your heavy dress, the feeling of his palms and fingers so distinct over your nightgown, the only thing separating you two, is enough to have your knees begin to buckle. 

From your waist, they move to your back, before caressing back to the sides of your waist, thumb running in circles. Gentle handfuls of your flesh, bunching and letting go of the material of your nightgown. Very soon, his mouth leaves yours and instead moves to your jaw, the air in the room letting you feel the wetness that he leaves behind as a passionate trail.

He soon reaches the junction of your jaw and neck, leaving a particularly long suck in the area that has a gasp leaving your mouth. Remaining in that area, you feel the pleasant graze of his tongue on your skin, only making you tilt your head farther out to let him carry out his loving. 

Your mind wanders back to the hands that grope you in ways that would defame you, the unseemly palms that have you needing to feel him all the same.

With grazing hands, you slip your fingers underneath his jacket, pushing it off one shoulder. He understands the message, flicking it off of his frame before loosening his cravat and throwing it somewhere behind him. 

Unlatching from your neck, he comes round to face you to find your face the epitome of disconnected and dazed. 

“Can you wait for me on the bed, my love?”

“But—” The thought of him being even an inch away was most aggravating, but he cuts you off before you can refute. 

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” Soonyoung rests his forehead against your own, taking your hands in his. “I’m right here. I just need to take this awful suit off.”

Your face must have been peculiar because he’s immediately jumping, panicked. “Uh—do you not want me to, we don’t have to, I just thought—”

“No!” you yelp, wide eyed. “I, um, I’ll wait. On the bed, I mean.”

He lets you walk over to the giant four poster bed, pushing the flow of your gown down when you realise how high it had ridden, cheeks burning scarlet at the thought of exposing so much. 

Hearing ruffles from behind you, you cannot bring yourself to look back at him, already extremely lightheaded and afraid that the sight might make you faint altogether. 

Perhaps you were experiencing a delayed case of sea legs, because it’s more difficult than usual to make yourself comfortable on the soft beddings. You make a futile attempt at slowing your breathing. 

By the time Soonyoung is done, meeting you in the middle, you keep your eyes on his face as he’s immediately climbing over to kiss you softly. Hand on the back of your head, he guides you to lay flat, adjacent to the headboard so you’re laying on the breadth of the bed. 

He handles you like you were made of glass, and it only makes the strange ache between your legs increasingly present and uncomfortable. 

Noting a cool feeling on the base of your throat, you open your eyes and catch the leather cord that dangles from his neck, the letter opener charm that’s attached to the end of it connecting you two as your lips part. Just beyond, through the dip of his collarbones and the valley to his chest, you catch the scar  that curls above his heart. Even lower, you find the smaller wrappings of his scarring wound. 

You trace over the edges of the new addition, shaking hands as you try your best to not brush over the wound. 

On the other side, Soonyoung has his hands on shin as his body hovers over you between your legs. Curling around, he caresses the skin of your bare calf, drifting to the back of your knees. He takes the opportunity to lift your leg, urging you to wrap it around his waist. 

The action has gravity doing what it does best, the hem of your nightgown dropping to bunch over the junction of your leg, your entire thigh exposed for the air. 

Soonyoung takes no time to let his hands wander higher, taking light handfuls of the flesh of thighs, dragging his grip further and further up. 

“Nearly tipped the ship over when I saw you in those fucking trousers,” he says, eyes closed as he drags his mouth over the inner part of your thigh. 

The sound that leaves your mouth is breathy, mind preoccupied with how quickly he was making his way towards the apex of your thighs. He’s using his mouth like he used it on your own lips, nipping at the flesh before biting down hard. 

“Soonyoung!” 

Tongue running over the patch, he sucks on the area to sooth the bite. It’s taking everything out of you to not twitch uncontrollably in his hold, the heat in your core reaching temperatures you’ve never experienced. 

Unlatching himself from your thigh, Soonyoung rears his head slightly. The sight has your head rolling back, mind drifting to the face of the man who’d visited you in your dreams, the same man that had now made home between your legs. 

Before you realise it, the bunched hem of your nightgown is flown upwards entirely, fluttering as the fabric lands on your stomach. 

Your heat is bare underneath, evident with the way Soonyoung keeps his eyes on the now fully exposed part of you. Your chest continues to rise and fall as you lift your head to look at him, eyes half closed and mind muddled.

“What…What’re you doing?” 

Soonyoung looks like you’ve disturbed him from a trance, snapping up to look at you as you ask him your question. 

It hardly registers in his mind. What was he doing? Was it not obvious—

Ah. 

If the mere sight of your bare thighs weren’t enough for him to release his load onto the sheets untouched, your unawareness might just end up doing it for him. 

Of course you didn’t know why he was at eye level with your cunt; women from this world were not supposed to know. 

The buzz in his mind renders him useless for a few moments as his vision blurs, the pain in his lower region unbearable. The thought of him being the first person to do this to you, to pleasure you like this; he wasn’t sure if he’d make it till the end of the night alive. 

Screwing his eyes shut, his palms full of your thighs, he drops his head and counts to ten. 

“Will you let me show you how a Queen is meant to be worshipped?” 

Wet mouthed and unhinged eyes, your arousal was doing nothing but multiplying at the sight of him. 

“Do you trust me?” he asks. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.” 

It takes you less than a moment to nod your head, eyes locked with his. 

Bringing a hand closer, he dips one finger into the beginnings of your hole. Bringing some of the glisten onto his fingers. Your lips are parted and he brings a second finger to gather your arousal, rubbing over your entrance ever so slowly. 

The motion makes you let out a heavy exhale, gripping onto the bunched fabric at your stomach till your knuckles turn white. 

With little warning, you feel his fingertips push and drag upwards, right over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Immediately, he’s rubbing your arousal all over the area, rubbing your clit in rhythmic circles with both fingers. 

You can’t stop it when you throw your head back and let out a slight whimper, relishing in the feeling that overtakes every last sense and capability, anticipating the next surge of pleasure that courses through your entire body like you've been struck by a bolt of something.

Vision obscured, you loll your head to the side when you feel his fingers retract, confused. 

All you catch is the outstretched nature of his tongue, and how it lands directly where his fingers were. 

You let out the loudest moan yet, back arching off the bed as he licks a forceful drag up your cunt before moving back down your clit, circling your hole with the tip of his tongue, right before repeating. He flicks your nub right where he’s found you twitch the most, back and forth as your hips begin to fail at your suppressed stutters, his hands needing to pin you down onto the sheets to continue. 

He becomes more generous, laying his tongue flat now as he massages your nub so good. Your thighs are closing around his ears and he does nothing to stop you, nearly suffocating between them. Hips going from their stutters to a grind, you find your hands flying to his hair, grip tighter than you thought you’d come down with. It doesn’t help that he’s now taken a finger to circle your entrance while his lips suck on your clit. 

“Soonyoung.” It’s all you can say, throat incapable of forcing anything but his name, the burn behind your eyes only making it harder to not say it louder. 

When he pushes the finger in, it has you letting out a moan, the foreign feeling against your walls only forcing them to clamp onto his digit. Gradually, you feel his pace quicken as he slides his finger in and out of your hole, his mouth still doing beautiful things to your cunt. 

It doesn’t take long for him to shove in another finger, stretching your hole as you let out a constant string of noises through the pleasure, ever-building as every passing moment only scrambles your brain further. 

And then you feel him groan, a vibration throbbing through your system. 

It’s suddenly all too much, and before you can tell him what’s going on, you’re rendered incapable. You don’t know where your limbs fly, but all you feel is white hot and overwhelming to an unbelievable degree. 

“Oh–ungh—” Your body is telling Soonyoung all he needs to know as he only pushes into your pussy even further, letting you ride out your high as you claw at him in every way possible. 

Inevitably, the feeling subsides and you realise you’ve been reduced to sobs, tears streaking the sides of your face. Laying flat with your head still on the sheets, you stare at the ceiling of your four poster, trying to remember where you were. 

Barely noticing the man that now hover above you, you hear him whisper. “Are you alright?”

Nodding weakly, you don’t even try to lift a finger in the remaining aftermath. 

“I need words, my love.”

Swallowing thickly, you give him a breathy, “Yes.”

The lower half of his face glistens in the light like unorthodox diamonds, and all you can think about is how you need him closer to you. 

You make an attempt with your nightgown, your trembling arms, still coursing with the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

Soonyoung decides to help, hands pushing your spine into an arch as he pulls the slip up and over your head, now entirely bare in front of him. 

You watch as instead of throwing the fabric away, he brings it to his mouth to wipe the slick off, tainting the gown with your essence. 

Mouth over yours in a salty kiss, you pull him into you as close as humanly possible, needing to feel his heat, his weight, his scent as close as possible. His mouth reaches your throat again, lips brushing over the expanse as he places open mouthed kisses over the nearly faded marks. 

His hands are lingering once again as they ghost the sides of your breasts, thumbs coming close to your nipples before retracting in a caress. He takes them in handfuls as he goes back to busy your lips with his own, massaging the mounds with a pressure just enough to have you reeling. 

Flicking your nipple lightly, he goes back to circle the bud with thumb again. Making himself further familiar, his fingers begin to pinch and pull at them, pressing down to get a noise out of you, one that you sound as you breathe into his mouth. 

Trailing over your stomach, he pushes himself off of you. On his knees, he takes the distance as his chance to look at you in your entirety for the first time. Your fucked out expression and your lack of words is doing nothing but fueling him, your loud breaths somehow more sinful than anything he could ever do to you. 

In one swift motion, he’s slipping his arms beneath you, pulling you up so he can lay you against the headboards and pillows. You barely register what’s happening, having given yourself up to him long before. 

Grabbing one of the millions of cushions on the bed, he swings one over. Using no strength of your own, he lifts your hips and places it down beneath you, effectively propping you up. 

And then he’s meeting you at eye level, hands cupping your face. “I need you to listen to me, darling.”

He waits for confirmation, of which you can only nod, still seeing mild stars. “Do you want to stop?” 

It's a visceral reaction; the violent shaking of your head, the hand that flies to his bicep. “N–no!”

You pause as he grips onto your upper arms tight, right as you continue. “I just—a moment. Don’t stop, please.”

Leaning down, he places a long kiss on the corner of your mouth before moving his head to fit into the crook of your neck. He nuzzles his nose against the skin below your ear. 

“I’m right here,” he whispers. “For as long as you want me.”

His kisses go from desperate to something with a little more intent, pressing his lips into your neck consistently. Oh so gently, it begins to feel like a draught. He turns into calm just as he could become chaos, bringing you down from the after effects of his own actions. 

The hum that leaves you is unthinking, fingers remaining deep in the roots of his hair. Your own nose is pressed against his hair, his scent mixed with sweat infiltrating your nostrils. It fills your head with a pleasant buzz, one that you feel force a pull at the corners of your mouth. 

“I meant it when I said it,” you murmur into his hair. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

Raising his head, he meets your eye, smiling slightly. “I believe you. Forgive me for making you believe I was trying to leave you.”

“You weren’t?” 

He presses his lips into a line, exhaling as he drops his chin to his chest. “I’ve needed to be selfish my whole life just to survive. Leaving…I wasn’t sure how I would’ve gotten on that boat in the morning without taking you with me somehow.”

Moving back to look at you, you realise very quickly there’s more to the mere glassy look in his eye. “For once, I wished to be anything but a pirate, to be anywhere but near the sea. Not when you wouldn’t be there with me.” 

Taking one of his beautifully decorated hands to your mouth, you kiss the soft of his palm. “You’ve done more than anyone ever has to protect me.” 

You laugh against his hand, “This is my turf, captain. Let me protect you… protect us.”

Something injects you with a dose of bold, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around his raised shoulders. “But…I believe we were in the middle of something. I’d hate to ruin the mood.”

The smirk that graces his lips is immediate, pushing you back down onto the sheets as you let a laugh escape you. 

And then you feel something warm graze your bottom lip, pointed in the way it pushes inwards. He’s brought the glinting letter opener charm up to your lips, the trinket pinched between his fingers as he continues to keep it on your mouth. He kisses you deep as the metal remains between you two, your hands run across the expanse of his back, feeling the muscles ripple as he props himself between you. 

“I love you,” he cuts between the kiss to groan, the charm dropping from between your mouths to your chest. 

“I love you, mmh—” His fingers have found your clit mid confession, rubbing quickly as he attempts to get you all hot and withered again. 

Your legs raise on instinct, back arching as he rubs you mercilessly, the pressure building quicker than it had before. 

“I–I think—” you start to tell him, and it seems it’s all he needs to remove his fingers entirely. 

“Soonyoung!” you yelp, landing on the bed with a thud. 

Looking down, you find his hands wrapped around the length between his own legs, and you realise this was your first time seeing it. Past the white-oozing slit, his tip is a painful looking red. If his hands weren’t already pumping and he hadn’t already lined himself up to your hole, you would’ve taken him into your own palms, done exactly with your mouth that he’d done with his own. 

But you can’t find it within yourself to stop him when you feel the initial push of his bulbous tip against your hole, the stretch causing you to drop your mouth open. 

“Fuck,” you hear him curse, and when you look up you find his own eyes screwed shut. His hands grip the plush of the pillow beside your head as tight as ever, face askew like he was holding himself back from combusting entirely. 

Slowly, you feel the stretch turn into something akin to a burn, a sting in the back of your eyes. You let him push himself into you at his own pace, the never ending battle between your mind and your refrained hips ever present as you attempt to keep them at bay. 

He keeps his pelvis flush against yours ince he’s sheathed himself inside you entirely. BOth of your pants fill the thick air of the room, the throb of your walls around his shaft leaving a tremble in his forearm despite your forsake. 

Hand somewhere above your head, you feel Soonyoung pull out ever so slightly before pushing back in. Just like this, in shallow thrusts, he pumps himself in an out of your walls in a slow pattern. 

It begins with a simmering tremble of pleasure that prolongs as he drags his cock in and out, and then in and out, and then—

Your eyes fly open when you feel his hips slam against yours with a resounding sound, fingers gripping his arm as he does it again, your moans penetrating the air. Before you know it, he’s hiked your legs up to wrap around his waist, ankles locking as he goes back to snapping his hips into you. 

“Oh, Soonyoung.”

Your nails are digging into his bicep like it was the only thing tying you to this earth, the only thing keeping you from passing out entirely. He’s taken up a brutal pace, pistoning into your clamped walls with a vigour unmatched. 

All Soonyoung can hear is the stretch of your moans and groans directly in his ear, the obscene squelch of both of your fluids mixing at your middles. Your hands have migrated to his back, clawing at the skin like you’ve been utterly possessed. 

He can’t seem to mind, not when they’ll simply become reopening wounds every time he’ll have you like this, all to himself and no one else. He wonders vaguely if your guards outside can hear the way you’re losing yourself in him just as he is in you, wonders if it appalls them that a filthy pirate gets to have their Queen in his arms as her vindictive pleasure. 

One hand rubbing over your slick clit, he pulls back to sit on his heels, the angle allowing him to keep ever part of you occupied, his spare hand coming up to toy with the pillow of your breast. 

It’s all too much, for the both of you as your collective noises become increasingly frequent and high pitched.

And then he’s pushed you over the edge, the shake of your thighs electrifying as you nearly scream out in the bliss of your high. Hands moving every which way to find a grip as you let the feeling crash into you over and over again. 

“Oh, that’s so good, so good, oh my goodness.”

You’re still in the middle of your climax when Soonyoung can’t take it anymore, letting himself release his load inside of you like a mark. It’s a mess of force and pleasure as the both of you lose sight of your strengths and weaknesses, the feeling of his hot cum shooting into your walls only prolonging your orgasm even further. 

He continues to thrust, continues to play with your nub, continues to flick at your nipples despite the orgasm subsiding. It’s all suddenly too much all at once, the sharp jerk of your body and your voice asking him to stop. 

“Soon—Soonyoung, it’s too much.”

Hands coming to a halt and his thrusts slowing, you feel him ease himself out of you. 

It’s a sight Soonyoung doubts he could ever forget even if he tried, your still pulsating walls doing everything but keeping the milky white of his load inside you, globs of the liquid spilling out as you shudder near lifeless on the bed. His hands grope at the inside of your thighs, pulling your lips apart to take in the mess he’s made. 

He can’t help himself when he pushes two fingers into your hole, feeding his cum back into your hole right where it belongs. 

You’ve only barely started to come round when he meets you at eye level, plopping next to you on the bed. 

“Hi,” he grins. 

“Hi,” you breathe back, hands coming up to touch his face. 

He lets you breathe for a few moments as he finds himself getting off the bed to find your tainted nightgown, moving back to you to spread your legs and wipe you clean as best as he could. 

You find it within yourself to allow him to pull you into a sitting position, a cup of water from the nightstand pressing against your tired mouth. 

“Come on, just one,” he urges as you slump against his chest. 

You take a few sips as he coaxes you into drinking the full cup and half of the second helping. 

He gives up as he holds you against his chest, brushing his fingers through your tangled hair to push past your face. 

“Are you alright?” he asks you. Your eyes are closed when he leans down to place a peck on the apple of your cheek. 

“Mhm,” you muffle. “Want to sleep.

“I’d let you, but…”

“Soonyoung, I can’t go again,” you whine. 

He chuckles, “I meant to ask where we could find some sugar around here. You barely ate anything at the ball.”

“The kitchens?” you answer with a floating question mark. 

Soonyoung can’t help it when he squeezes you so tight it has you complaining loudly, not being able to sustain the love just in the tiny expanse of his heart. 

“Come on, let’s get you some cake before both our hearts give out.”

BUNDLED UP IN WARMER clothes, the only thing the palace walls hear is the tiny whispers and giggles of you and your lover as you make your way to the kitchens. 

It’s empty at this time of night, the dying embers of the fireplace the only source of light. Soonyoung uses every last bit of his thievery to manage to find a basket of dough balls, the syrup more readily available at the table in the centre.

The tingling in your brain can’t seem to decipher the overwhelming happiness that floods you from the ends of your hair to the tips of your toes. Especially when you call out his name amidst his shuffling, your heart can’t take the grin on his face as he hurries to join on the floor in front of the fireplace. 

Arm looped through his own and your head on his shoulder, you decide you’d be quite okay dying like this. 

The dough balls are cold and the syrup is probably a little too sweet, but you can’t possibly complain when it warms you just the same. 

“I’ve despised my name my entire life,” Soonyoung starts in the silence, picking at the insides of his treat. “Some old merchant sailor was giving his ship away in exchange that the taker would take care of it. He’d built his Tigress from the first board to the last sail, but the years had made their mark. It was practically falling apart when I took it off his hands.”

He pushes the remaining bit of the pastry into his mouth, muffled as he continues, “He had a strange name, said it was given to him by his crew when they realised he was born without a name. Hoshi. I liked it well enough so I kept it.”

“Soonyoung—”

“That one. I wanted to replace the name I loathed, the one my own mother gave me.” You watch as his throat bobs as he swallows. “Ash is my birthplace, my mother worked in the brothels where I was born only because she couldn’t get rid of me.”

Taking one of the hands that wrap around his arm, he brings your fingers to your mouth, kissing the tips of each one. “I despised that name, until I heard it from your lips.” 

“Soonyoung.” It felt right on your tongue, like you were destined to say his name. 

“Yes, my love?” He smiles softly. 

“I love you.”

“I love you more,” he says as he kisses you again. “Thank you for keeping my name, thank you for giving it life.”

You take the opportunity to grab one of the syrup soaked dough balls from the basket and stuff them into his mouth. “Enough, don’t tell me all this luxury’s made you soft.” 

It was a jab but a lighthearted one in any case, you loved to see this side of him and you doubt you would ever get enough of seeing him like this. Vulnerable with his softer smiles and squinted eyes. 

Bringing one of your digits to your mouth, you suck the remaining syrup off your fingers. 

Soonyoung is quick to take notice as he takes your hand and brings your fingers up to his mouth, running his tongue over the pads of your fingers to take in the remaining sugar left on your fingers. 

He keeps his eyes locked onto yours as he sucks on the tips of your fingers, making sure every last hint of sweetness is gone. 

And then he’s kissing you, tongue in your mouth as he moves against your lips slowly. 

Breaking apart, you whisper, “As much as I’d love to, the bakers will be coming in any minute now.”

Soonyoung’s grin is dangerous, and you find out why the minute you feel his arms loop around your waist and under your thighs, lifting you clean off the floor of the kitchens. 

You squeal before you can help it, his lips finding home in your neck as you laugh as loud as your chest would allow. 

You could get used to this. And you will. 

THE SERVANTS CARRYING THE giant stack of plates nearly topple over when you sprint past them, yelling a loud apology over your shoulder as you do nothing but hasten your pace. 

The paper in your hands is clutched tight in your fists as you run to where your carriage awaits, near yelling at the driver to make it to the docks before the streets would be full of the early morning merchants and bakers, slowing the gallops of the decorated horses. 

The town is waking as your carriage races past, the beginnings of the new day making itself known as the sun peers through the gaps of the houses. You’re incapable of sitting still, your heels tapping against the floors of your cabin incessantly as the docks grow nearer and nearer. 

And then you see it, the rush of dock handlers that see the royal carriage slow to a stop in front of the boardwalk. You slam the door open before any of the tens could do it for you, breaking into a sprint as you find the distinct flag of the royal crest wave high on the other end of the docks. 

You had already seen Soonyoung off in the dark of the night as he made his way to the ship that was near ready to depart as you slide to stop in front of the anchored ship. 

There was nothing sane about what you were doing, the chortles and shocked noises of sailors and merchants deaf to ears as you finally spot him near the prow. 

His eyes meet yours and he has to do a double take. 

Panting and needing to hold onto your knees for support, you peer up as you watch him run towards the ramp that leads down to the docks to see you, to ask why you were here when he’d kissed you goodbye mere hours ago. 

By the time he meets you at the wobbly boardwalk, you’ve somewhat recovered.

“Are you alright?” he asks you as soon as you’re within earshot, hands grasping onto your upper arms in evident concern. 

“I had to tell you, this came in right after you left.” You brandish the paper clutched into your fist, smoothing it over as the light catches the red stamp at the bottom. 

It takes him less than a minute to realise what it said, eyes blinking rapidly and mouth gaping like a fish. “They…They said yes?” 

“They said yes,” you repeat, nodding furiously as you break into a smile. “We can get married, Soonyoung, they said yes.”

His arms are crushing you before you know it, wrapped around you so tight as he buries his face into your neck, repeating it like a mantra, “They said yes…”

By the time you part, he keeps his arms around you, still embracing you in front of the entire port. You take hold of his face bringing it closer to you. 

“Three months, and then you come home,” you breathe. “And I get to marry you, in front of everyone.”

Soonyoung lets his lips meet your own in a chaste kiss as he corrects you, “I get to marry you in front of everyone.” 

There’s a thud of something nearby, and you look up to find the crew of the Tigress hanging over the railings of the newly appointed naval ship that looked suspiciously like a pirate’s. 

“He can’t come back home, if he doesn’t leave!” Seungkwan yells over cupped hands. 

You’d like to send him an affectionate gesture involving your middle finger, but choose to save him in front of the crowded port. 

“You’ll miss me, Seungkwan, just you wait,” you send him a pointed glare that he simply scoffs at. 

He might miss you, but you’ll definitely miss the lot of them when you return to a significantly emptier palace. 

“Don’t let the royal snobs walk over you, you’re a better sailor anyway,” you tell Soonyoung. “Not that I needed to tell you, anyway.”

“I promise on our future wedding to be a complete menace.” He grins at the declaration as you admire him in the morning light. 

One last time, you memorise the dips and hills of his features, pressing your final kiss into his lips as the voices telling him to hurry it up grow louder. 

He blows you a kiss from the railings as the anchor is hoisted, and you send him one right back. 

As your carriage trudges its path back to the palace, at a pace more acceptable for both the stamina of the horses and the integrity of the structure, your eyes remain glued to the shrinking ship that fades into the distant horizon. 

There’s a pang in your chest, one that brings a tear to your eyes. It’s all very dramatic, the way the melancholy makes a home in your heart. An inkling tells you how you’ll probably become quite used to the feeling, learn to greet it like a friend. 

For now you enter the lighter palace, and take your place on the chair in your study and find solace in the ideas your mind brings. 

That no matter how long Soonyoung will remain far from you, he will always come back home to you. 

Always. 

[AN]: ty for joining my babies on their journey, i cannot thank you all enough for reading all 48fuckingK words of this i love you guys truly!!! thank you for all the reblogs and comments on the other parts, it makes me genuinely so happy to see you guys enjoy this universe that i've built. I read every single comment and know i appreciate all of it so so much <3

#svthub #hoshi fluff #hoshi smut #hoshi angst #hoshi fic #hoshi imagines #hoshi x reader #hoshi #soonyoung smut #soonyoung fluff #soonyoung scenarios #soonyoung imagines #soonyoung x reader #seventeen #soonyoung #seventeen flluff #seventeen smut #seventeen angst #seventeen fic recs #svt #svt smut #svt fluff #svt imagines #svt scenarios #svt x reader #em.writes

[rationaliity]

mine now | gallagher x f! reader ( 18 + )

ill be so real with you my dearest freaky anon i'm not the biggest fan of cheating so plspls understand that if this kinda sucks,,, im sorry, especially since you were waiting for so long for this and then i drop the most lukewarm fic of all time. i also had to change the story around so that it was something that i was comfortable writing, sorry about that ! still the basic premise, i just am not good with ntr for some reason ?? weird. who knows man. tags : drug abuse ! dubcon, dirty talking, weed & alcohol mention, female anatomy reader but its sort of nonspecific idk, pw/op, voyeurism sorta, exhibitionism sorta, coercion almost, mentions of infidelity, comfort turns into sex, possessiveness, unprotected sex, gallagher uses petnames a lot, reader being drunk & high at the same time, reader gets on call with her ex boyfriend while gallagher fucks them words: 1.8k

gallagher's hand was in your hair, your head pulled back as he pounded you so hard into the mattress it made your hip hurt a little bit from the pressure, not that it was really what you were focused on. he'd promised to make you forget your shitty ex boyfriend who'd cheated on you, and you had agreed on that without a second thought. it was originally just a drink that the two of you shared together, with you ranting about this loser to gallagher, who was all too patient with you.

one drink turned into three, and drinks turned into smoking together. being crossfaded and half focused, those little rants went on about everything that had pissed you off about that loser since the moment the relationship started to decay. everything from how he refused to flush the toilet no matter how many times you reminded him, to how tiny his dick was. gallagher had laughed at your jokes about him, and it spurred you on to keep going, laughing about that loser's tiny shrimp dick. gallagher asked if you'd ever had a dick bigger than two inches, and you shook your head. you had no idea what sex was really supposed to feel like aside from what you knew.

then he asked if you were willing to see what it was like, and you swore you'd never felt more sober than that moment right then as you hesitantly nodded. was it still going to hurt if you weren't a virgin anymore ? the answer, surprisingly, was a resounding yes ! you learned that pretty quickly as gallagher's hips pistoned into yours, his free hand grabbing the fat of your ass, his body pressed against yours so he could whisper into your ear.

" don't be shy, baby, you can let your makeup ruin my sheets. it's been ruining my shirt all night now, " he purred in your ear, his sharp canines daring to bite into the sensitive skin of your neck completely without warning. when he finally did, you made a pathetic little mewl that you weren't even aware that you could make. " a little reminder of who can fuck you better than that fuckin' pathetic loser, yeah ? gonna go to work tomorrow n show off your mark for everyone to see, yeah ? "

possessiveness was driving him, only amplified tenfold by the weed in his system. it made you both feel everything so much deeper, so both in tune with your bodies and completely disorientated at the exact same time. you couldn't feel your toes anymore, and you weren't even sure you had a tongue in your mouth you were so far gone, but you could feel every deep stroke inside of you as he thrust, and the feeling of his nails digging into the flesh of your ass.

you were a disaster. you knew you should be somewhere else. it was in three the morning, you were three drinks and several shots deep, and with enough weed in your system to kill a victorian child before they could even understand what was happening to them. but you had no idea that you needed this so much, needed to feel him so deep inside of you that it brought you to tears, stretching you so well that you thought there was no way it was going to fit. and yet his cock buried itself completely inside you each time, his tip hitting against your walls in that special spot that made you cry out.

you wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, and by god you wanted to moan so loud that your neighbors could hear you. and maybe you were doing all of those things, at this point you weren't entirely sure what you were doing, other than taking his cock. gallagher was like an animal, desperate to claim every inch of you, and you were so willing to give him everything that he desired without any amount of a fight.

you heard a noise in the background, but you honestly didn't think much of it at that point. it was so unimportant, you didn't really care what it was, although you recognized the sound. " baby, your phone is ringin', you wanna answer it, or should i ? "

you made a pitiful little noise, and he took that as a perfectly valid answer, grabbing your phone and sliding it up for you. " hey, yeah ? oh, man. " you couldn't hear what was going on on the other side of the phone, but you could hear gallagher chuckle, and you swore he started to fuck you even harder now, the lewd noises of your skin slapping together undoubtedly able to be heard through the phone. " yeah, sorry you're a fuckin' loser, but they've got some new dick. thank you for keepin' them so fuckin' tight f'me. "

you don't know why your ex hadn't hung up the phone yet, but also on the other hand it made complete sense. if he had a way to argue, he was going to argue, even when all of the odds were against him, and the answer was blaring at him straight in his face. you buried your face in the pillow, trying not to make so much noise, but finding it impossible with the way gallagher was thrusting inside of you like he owned your body. and maybe he did, who knows at this point ? you just knew that you'd never felt this good, not with yourself, or any other partner.

" you wanna talk to them ? oh, man, be my fuckin' guest. i just hope you know you ain't gonna like what you hear. "

without a warning, the phone was pushed against your ear, letting you speak and say whatever you wanted to, but you couldn't find the words to say anything to him in between the moans spilling from your lips. " i-i- hh- fuck- " you whimpered, trying to think of something to say, but your mind was completely blank and filled with so many thoughts at the exact same time. there was only a brief moment of time where there wasn't anything coming from the other line, your ex so stunned that he couldn't find anything to say, but then came the barrage of insults, ones that would make you cry if you weren't being fucked so well by a man like gallagher, who was able to take your mind off of a pathetic man like your ex.

" put him on speaker, doll. let him hear you cummin' your brains out on my cock if he's so inclined. shit, i'll send him a video if he wants. whatever gets him to understand that you aren't his anymore, " gallagher growled behind you, one of his hands coming to snake around your waist, rubbing the sensitive nub between your legs with his thick, calloused thumb. you could only nod in response, sitting your phone down and turning it on speaker. you wanted him to feel horrible about everything he did to you, and you were hoping this was exactly the revenge you needed to finally get over him.

with the phone out of your hands, it was like it was entirely forgotten, especially with his finger rubbing your clit in tiny little circles. everything was building up to feel so strong inside of you, you had no idea what was happening. was it the drugs in your system making your body act up like this ? you had no idea, completely unsure what was going on. you felt this feeling in your tummy tightening as gallagher fucked you senseless, exactly like how he had promised to.

" ga-gallagher- " you whimpered out, your breath hitching in your throat. even in your fucked out state, you still managed to say something coherent, and of course it was his name. that thought only brought a satisfied grin to his face, and the older man couldn't stop himself from responding, clearly putting on a show for the person on the other end of the phone.

" what is it, my sweet ? gonna cum ? ya gonna cum on my cock like this 'nd forget all about him ? you take me so well, it's like you were made for a big, fat cock to stretch you out 'nd rearrange ya. " he was going so hard he needed to grab the headboard, his nails digging into the wood so hard that he wasn't sure if it would splinter or not, not that it even mattered. a little blood wasn't going to hurt him, and it certainly wasn't going to make him stop fucking your divine body into the perfect little cocksleeve for him. " is this your first orgasm on a cock ? you don't even know what's happenin' to ya, that's fuckin' adorable. you aint got no idea why you feel all tight down there, huh ? "

all you could do was nod helplessly against him, drooling onto the fabric of the bedsheets that was so soaked from your slick just dripping down your legs and pooling underneath you. " gonna- gonna cum, gonna cum, gallagher- pl-please- " you didn't know why you were saying please, you knew he wasn't going to stop now, not when he had a point to make of giving you the best orgasm you've ever had in your life.

" cum then, sweetie. i'll ride you through it. i'm gonna cum in this little hole of yours, okay ? you okay with that ? " you didn't give him a verbal response, just a nod of your head, but he couldn't stop himself from gently slapping your clit, making you cry out in pain, the sharpness of the sensation leaving you breathless. " say it, doll. say you want me to cum inside. you can do it, baby. "

" please- cuh-cum inside of me, gallagher- " you begged, earning you a tentative kiss on the side of your neck where he had bitten you earlier, and his finger started to rub circles around your sore clit again, perfectly timed just to make you cum.

" we're gonna cum together, okay ? let go, baby. i'm right here wi-with ya, " he couldn't stop himself from letting out a low groan, letting go of the headboard to grab your hip, dragging you on his cock as he fucked himself on you, chasing your orgasms together. with a low, animalistic growl, gallagher let go inside of you, shooting hot ropes inside of your walls as you clenched helplessly around him, the duo orgasm making you feel like you were able to blank out at any second, but you were entirely aware of your situation. he rode out the sensations with you, slowing down into gentle thrusts as he milked both of your orgasms at the same time.

when he pulled, gallagher laughed to himself, kissing the side of your neck and your nape several times as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his body against yours. " he hung up. guess we gotta call him back when we have a round two, yeah ? "

— ♡ rationaliity 2024

#honkai star rail #hsr fanfic #honkai sr #honkai star rail x reader #x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail smut #gallagher #hsr #hsr gallagher #gallagher smut #gallagher x reader #gallagher x reader smut #gallagher honkai star rail #honkai star rail imagine #star rail #gallagher hsr #hsr smut #smut #x reader smut #smut drabble

[phantomgrimalkin]

@moonwatermicrofics Prompt: Blanket Words: 600, Rating: G - sort of unfinished

The blanket was wrong. It was heavier than he was used to, which he found very comforting, but it wasn’t his. That was odd in itself. It wasn’t a school-supplied blanket, which Regulus and everyone in his dorm used.

He grumbled as he slowly returned to consciousness, trying to make sense of this, and realized he was resting on a chest. Someone warm. Not Barty. Maybe Evan? That was weird.

“C’mon, Pads,” a familiar, sleep husky voice grumbled, “Lemme up. Need breakfast.”

“What?” Regulus asked, rubbing his face and opening his eyes to realize he was looking at Gryffindor red bed curtains. His mouth went dry. This was not his bed. 

“C’mon –what the – Regulus?” the owner of the chest he’d been using as a pillow slotted a hand under his chin and tilted his head up, looking at his face, and Regulus found himself staring at a sleep tousled Remus Lupin.

“What the fuck?” Regulus asked weakly. He wasn’t hungover. He couldn’t remember getting up to anything.

“You don’t know why you’re here?” Remus asked, frowning, then fell back against the pillow and covered his face in his hands and groaned before sitting back up, “You alright?”

“I- er- think so?” he replied awkwardly, wrapping the blanket more tightly around himself. He was wearing his pajamas at least, and Remus seemed to be fully dressed in a worn t-shirt and flannel pants.

“Giss a sec,” Remus grunted, slipping out of the curtains of the bed and closing them behind him. Regulus heard a few bangs and Remus’s voice barking, “Oy! Have any of you idiots gotten up to mischief last night?” 

It was a tone he’d never heard from the usually reserved Gryffindor, firm and authoritative. Regulus thought back to nights in the library, how Remus’s voice had always seemed impossibly quiet and gentle. 

“Fuck did you do, Padfoot?” he heard Peter’s voice grouse.

“Wasn’t fuckin’ me! Prongs?” Sirius objected.

“No! What the hell, Moons?” James shouted.

There was a bit more of a ruckus as the Gryffindor wizards squabbled over their rude awakening. It went on for awhile, and from what he could hear Peter and James ended up heading down to breakfast while Sirius shut himself in the bathroom. The curtain opened after the room went quiet again, Remus looking puzzled.

“Huh. Don’t think it was them. Might’ve been the Slytherins,” Remus said, scratching his cheek, “Bit odd, really, but Snape’s always weird about me, so I’ve never really been surprised,” he shrugged, “Need any clothes?”

“Er– yeah, thanks,” Regulus agreed blankly, trying to make sense of the situation. Apparition wasn’t possible within the castle, aside from house elves. He couldn’t think of a teleportation spell that could do this. Had he been dosed with something to keep him unconscious? That thought made him uneasy.

Remus tossed him clothes that he recognized as Sirius’s - which irritated him a little bit, but his brother was also the closest Gryffindor in terms of size, so it was probably for the best. The basic charcoal pants and white shirt of the uniform. He transfigured his pajamas into shoes and cast some spells on his hair to make himself look presentable.

“Sirius takes his time getting ready, so you’re safe to sneak out now if you’d like,” Remus told him pleasantly as Regulus crept out of the safety of the curtains, glancing around nervously. 

“You are… very calm about this,” Regulus said blankly.

“Between my friends and your Slytherins, I’ve accepted that I’m going to be on the receiving end of ridiculous pranks,” Remus replied with a lopsided smile.

(I saw a fic with this idea in another ship and I liked it and wanted to write but then didn't know where to go with it and it's been 5 or 6 weeks so I'm just posting it.)

#remus lupin #harry potter fanfiction #marauders #harry potter #regulus black #sirius black #moonwater #regulus x remus #remus x regulus #moonwatermicrofics

[moon1ee]

the "oh deer" giggs stream and how insane scar was throughout it had made me really want to write a fic based off of it, where scar is a hunter sent to a section of a national park and all he's told is that there's some sort of invasive species that's been killing the deer. and he needs to take care of it. hes patrolling around all trigger happy, setting up cameras trying to figure out what it is. the only rule he was given was do not go out at night, under any circumstances. scar gets the dubious privilege of living in the cabin where the previous hunter lived, and he finds a lot of weird notes around, and the windows are all boarded up, and there's some very suspicious claw marks on and around the door...

and then one day he finally somehow figures it out, that the thing killing the deer is the deer themselves, or actually, the terrifying eldritch creatures that some of the deer turn into at night, among us style. and obviously he can't go out at night so every day he's patrolling around the deer, watching them for suspicious activity, talking to them in a totally not insane way. he sets bear traps. he sets landmines. he's somehow not able to kill anything. none of his cameras are working. scar is getting inreasingly paranoid, and he's starting to lose it, just a little.

meanwhile, the eldritch creatures in question (grian, gem, skizz, impulse) are having a grand time messing with him. grian in particular thinks this new guy is hilarious and everytime the others mention trying to get rid of scar he's like noooo wait not yet, let's see what he'll do. then when scar has fully and completely snapped he resolves to actually see these creatures in their true form and -- like the genius he is -- go out at night. and that's when all hell breaks loose.

#ive been thinking about this for weeks #team gigs #gigs #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #grian #desert duo #impulsesv #skizzleman #geminitay #moonie writes #og post #giggs #team giggs

[spenceragnewfics]

omg hi hi super excited to read your stuff!! Could I request a fluffy Spencer fic where reader also works at smosh and they’re tiptoeing around their relationship because they don’t want viewers/coworkers to know!! <33

I really hope you enjoy this. I didn't really know how I wanted to do this so I hope this is good. Enjoy!!

THE PA & THE DIRECTOR | Spencer Agnew x Reader

TW: none that I know of

Word Count: 1.2k

Description: Starting as an intern, Y/N forms a close relationship with Spencer which turns into a very loving but secret relationship. That is until the three newest cast members and a returning owner finds evidence to prove otherwise.

In the summer of 2021, Y/N had gotten an internship with Smosh. They were hired on as an intern for the office in their senior year of college. During the summer, they had many friendships and connections made with people all over the office, the best one being with the games crew and Spencer in particular.

When the summer ended, Ian offered them a job for after they graduate. They would be a PA for the gaming channel and Y/N accepted immediately, they loved their summer working for the company and the people so why wouldn’t they accept the job?

Y/N graduated in the spring of 2022 and moved to LA to start their career at Smosh. They thrived with helping on the gaming channel and even were allowed to help edit some videos, with Spencer’s supervision for the first few.

The two of them continued to get closer and closer with all the late nights they spent together working and they had even more when Spencer was made the director of Smosh Games. It was the best for the both of them because Y/N had an amazing boss and Spencer had a reliable hand to help when needed.

One night, the two were at Spencer’s apartment hanging out and brainstorming gaming video ideas. They had pizza and drinks to help fuel the brainstorming and help keep them awake.

“Okay, what if we do a d&d like game? We get some of the cast that are interested and make a little series off of it.” Y/N suggest as they take a bite of pizza. “That sounds cool, we could try that and see how fans react. I think Damien and Shayne are a forsure yes for that.” Spencer says as he writes down the idea.

“Obviously, I think you could be in it as well.” He looks at them shocked as they smile, “Really? You think the fans could take seeing me that long?” He jokes and Y/N rolls their eyes. “Of course they can, don’t you see all the comments of the fans begging for more Spencer content?” He shrugs and looks at the person across from him.

They notice his eyes and look at him as well, “What’s up, Spence?” He shrugs, “Nothing, just looking at you.” This makes them confused, “Why, is there something on my face?”

“Yeah, actually hang on, let me just.” He leans over and moves his thumb to wipe something off their face but pulls them in and kisses them. The action takes Y/N by surprise but they kiss him back, letting the feelings they had been feeling for a while finally come out.

Spencer is the one to break the kiss. He looks at Y/N with nervous eyes, “If you wanted to kiss me, Spence, all you had to do was ask.” He chuckles and leans back in to kiss them.

 The night changed everything and started a very loving relationship between the two. Originally, they had planned to keep it a secret until they were sure this would be something that lasted a while and wasn’t just a fling.

Well, that was almost two years ago and they just haven’t told anyone. Not their co-workers and not the fans. It hasn’t been easy honestly. It’s been a lot of careful touches and joking flirting with closet make out sessions.

No one has seemed to catch on because the two were always close. They have slowly become more and more touchy but people have brushed it off as them just evolving in their friendship. That was until they had a Anthony on the Smosh Games set.

It was Shayne, Angela, Trevor, Chanse, and Anthony playing Don’t Win Mario Party. Spencer is directing while Y/N is helping get everyone set up and making sure everything is in place.

 “Y/N, can you come look at this for a second?” Alex Tran asks and they walk over quickly. Unknown to them, Spencer watches their every move as they pass by him and over to one of his best friends. This is not missed on Anthony though, he leans over to Chanse. “What’s going on between those two?” Chanse looks at the dude then looks to see where he is looking then laughs.

“Spencer and Y/N? They’re just friends, nothing more, swear. It’d be epic if they were but sadly not.” This makes Anthony confused because he knows that look on Spencer’s face and his thoughts are confirmed even more when Y/N walks by Spencer and he squeezes their hip as they do.

“You guys are so fucking blind.” He mutters to himself as Chanse looks at him confused then looks at Angela and Trevor. “Do you two know if Y/N and Spencer are a thing?”

“No, why?” Trevor asks, “Mr.Tattos over here thinks they are.” That makes Angela cackle. “Chanse, you remember when you first joined. You thought the same thing, it’s just how it is to the unknowing eye. He’s only been back for like a month.” She says, laughing at the thought of the two being together without anyone knowing.

The whole ordeal is soon over as they start shooting. Everything goes great and smoothly as does most shoots with the dream team of Spencer, Alex T, and Y/N. Angela got first and would be wearing the dog cone the next round while Chanse got fourth.

“Okay, that was great everyone! You all did amazing!” Spencer announces as the room cheers. Y/N walks over to him with a sweet smile as people start to slowly leave the set.

“Very good work today, Mr. Director.” He smirks at their words, “You did very well, my favorite PA.” Their cheeks heat up and they look down. Spencer looks around, noticing the set is empty. He puts his hands on their waist, pulling them in for a kiss which Y/N quickly reciprocates.

The innocent kiss lasts longer than both originally intended. They don’t notice the three newest castmates of Smosh hiding behind the set and poking their heads out just enough to see what is happening.

Angela, being Angela, pulls out her phone and takes multiple photos with a proud smile on her face. Chanse and Trevor do the same thing but Trevor forgot to turn his sound off and the sound of a camera click resounds around the empty studio.

“Trevor, what the fuck?!” Angela whisper yells at him, “Turn your sound off!” Chanse chastises but it’s no use as the couple turns around to see the three. Spencer clears his throat and they look up.

“Is there something you three need?” Y/N asks, leaning their head on Spencer’s shoulder.

A chorus of nos, congratulations, and apologies come from the three as they quickly run off the set. “Well, guess that will be all over the office soon.” Y/N says, looking over to their boyfriend.

He shrugs, “We knew it would happen some day, my love.” Y/N playfully shoves him at the cute nickname before pulling him into another kiss. Not caring about the fact their phones are about to go fucking wild.

#smosh #smosh cast #smosh games #smosh mouth #smosh pit #spencer agnew #spencer agnew x reader #fluff #spencer agnew fluff #romance #fanfiction #imagine #request #smosh x reader #smosh imagine

[luffington]

i need stoner!aokiji fic PLEASE

✧.* art credit!

➤ pairing: aokiji (kuzan) x afab!reader

➤ word count: 836

➤ warnings: drug use, established relationship, pre-timeskip aokiji, cockwarming, nipple play, oral (f receiving), temperature play (it's inevitable), voyeurism, brief mention of kizaru x reader

sorry i took forever to write this... i'm STARVED for aokiji content with where i am in the anime right now but he showed up for 5 seconds in a filler arc so now i'm ready to go :3

written in headcanon-ish bullet format!

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Aokiji is laid-back and lazy all the time so it's hard to tell when he's stoned or not. Sometimes you'll come back to your shared place at Navy HQ to find the entire house reeking of weed, your boyfriend relaxing on the couch with his long legs spread wide and smoke pouring from his lips. He greets you with a casual "yo" and offers you his half-smoked blunt.

He is canonically a boobs man. You sit in his lap, cockwarming his massive dick, as he slips one of his big hands under your bra to fondle your right tit like a stress ball, squeezing and kneading at the soft skin.

He peers over your shoulder to skim the daily newspaper with hazy, unfocused eyes. Pretends to glance at the Navy papers he's supposed to look over (his ass is NOT reading!). Eventually, he gives up and pulls off your shirt and bra to really play with your tits.

Grabbing them hard enough for flesh to spill out between the cracks of his fingers, rolling them around and jiggling them. His chilly breath tickles your ear as his cold fingers tweak your nipples until they're stiff. He twists one harshly to hear you gasp, then chuckles and soothes it by rubbing his thumb gently over the areola.

When you inevitably get cotton mouth, he pushes two fingers between your lips and lets you swirl your tongue around them as if they're ice cubes. If it gets really bad, he'll actually create ice for you to suck on. Any part of him inside you turns him on, even if it's from his abilities.

Lazy man does drug that makes him lazier… he is horizontal the entire night. Good thing you love sitting on his face!

Aokiji’s strong hands grip your thighs and hold you flush against his face, drowning himself in your wet cunt. He slurps noisily at your juices, licking and kissing all over your vulva. Makes sure to wrap his plush lips around your clit, tonguing at the sensitive bud and sucking on it like his life depends on it.

Every sensation is intensified by the eternal iciness of his body. You cry out his name as he fucks you with his cold, slick tongue. You can’t help but grind on his face, losing yourself to pleasure and the haziness of marijuana. You almost feel bad for practically suffocating him until he groans, “Just like that, baby. Ride my face with that cute little pussy.”

He moans when you cum, slick gushing all over his lips and chin. Your chest heaves as you crawl off of him with shaky legs and plop down on the bed next to him. “Shit. Delicious as always, baby,” he drawls as he grabs a new blunt and lights it. “Alright, hop on my dick.”

You roll your eyes — he’s just so romantic. You’d already ridden him reverse cowgirl style after he got tired of cockwarming, but his dick was back at full hardness just from eating your pussy. You don’t think he even touched himself during it.

So you do as he asks, the weed making you especially horny, anyways. Wispy smoke pours from your parted lips as you lazily grind on his fat cock, stretching your insides deliciously and filling you up so good.

Slow and lazy sex is kinda his thing, unless he’s riled up from a particularly difficult assignment. (And even then, he has time to calm down on his lethargic bike ride home. You think it’s just an excuse to fuck you dumb.)

Aokiji sits up on his elbows to suck your nipples messily, spit running down the swell of your breast. Making obscene slurping noises that have your eyes rolling back into your head. When he gets close, he thumbs your clit in tight circles to make sure you cum together.

You moan and throw your head back as your third orgasm of the night washes over you. He lets out the deepest, sexiest moan as his cum fills you up to the brim.

He’s snoring two minutes later. You shuffle to get out of bed and grab a snack, but his strong arms wrap around your waist, spooning you from behind. Guess you’re stuck there!

Kizaru is his dealer (the true stoner king of the Marines) and somehow always gets the highest quality weed. He usually comes over for a smoke sesh with you and Aokiji when he gets a new strain he thinks you'll enjoy. He likes to watch the two of you fuck, sitting across the room watching attentively from behind his sunglasses and palming the fat bulge in his pants. Sometimes he asks to join in. It's up to you to decide -- Aokiji doesn't care either way, as long as one of your tight holes is wrapped around his cock.

(Akainu always screams at them when they show up to work high. Neither of them care. Threatens to snitch to Sengoku but Kizaru sold him an ounce last week so 🤷‍♀️)

#marijuana exists in the op universe bc i said so #request #mine #my fics #anon #aokiji x reader #aokiji smut #kuzan x reader #kuzan smut #aokiji #kuzan #one piece x reader #one piece smut #kizaru x reader

[deerlino]

Hiya, I adore your fics, they are so amazing and sweet! ❤️‍🩹 Could I request a fic?? Could you do producer! F! Reader x han? Like they're in a secret relationship and they get caught?? 😂 Could you please make it slightly cracky but also extremely fluffy??

caught in the mix.

han jisung x fem!reader / you and jisung are both producers at the same company, secretly dating. but your cover gets blown, and everyone finds out about your relationship.

additional tags / producer!jisung x producer!reader, (domestic) fluff, secret relationship, getting caught, canon compliant, workplace romance, established relationship, humor, crack, teasing & banter — 773 words in total.

content warnings / mild swearing, kissing (soft kisses, kisses on the neck, some intense moments of kissing)

authors note @ 15092000volcano / this was super cute to write! <3 i haven't done many jisung fics, so i was really excited to get this request. 😋 plus, i’m obsessed with the producer trope right now, so it was the perfect way to spend my sunday evening. thanks, anon, for the sweet request and the kind words about my work—it means a lot! hope you love the fic! 💓

You’re in a dimly lit recording studio, hidden away from the prying eyes of the world. The place is familiar, almost like a second home, except for one crucial detail: this is where you and Jisung have been sneaking off to. You glance over at him as he tinkers with the mixing board, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the computer screen. He catches your eye and shoots you a quick wink, causing your heart to skip a beat.

“Hey, love,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. “Pass me the headphones?”

You slide them over, your fingers brushing against his for a fleeting moment. The touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you wonder how long you can keep this secret from the rest of the team. It’s not that you want to hide your relationship, but you know how chaotic things can get with everyone involved.

Suddenly, the door bursts open, and Chan strides in, his usual confident swagger in place. He freezes mid-step when he sees you and Jisung huddled together.

“Uh, am I interrupting something?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

You both jump apart like you’ve been electrocuted, and Jisung clears his throat awkwardly. “Nope, just, uh, working on a new track.”

Chan’s eyes narrow, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “Right. Working. Sure.” He gives you a pointed look before sauntering out, leaving you both in a flustered silence.

“Well, that was close,” you mutter, trying to steady your racing heart.

Jisung chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Don’t worry, babe. We just need to be more careful.”

The next day, you’re in the kitchen, trying to make coffee without waking up the whole house. Jisung sneaks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You lean into his touch, a content sigh escaping your lips.

“Morning,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your neck.

“Morning,” you reply, turning to kiss him properly.

Just as your lips meet, the door swings open again. This time, it’s Felix, his hair a mess and his eyes half-closed. He stops dead in his tracks, blinking rapidly as if he’s not sure he’s really seeing this.

“Oh my God,” Felix says, his voice a mixture of disbelief and amusement. “Are you two...?”

You and Jisung spring apart again, but it’s too late. Felix is already grinning like the Cheshire cat. “This is gold. I can’t wait to tell the others.”

“Felix, no!” you plead, but he’s already out the door, cackling.

Later, you’re sitting in the living room, pretending to watch TV, but your mind is elsewhere. Jisung is next to you, his hand discreetly resting on your thigh. You’re trying to act natural when Seungmin strolls in, phone in hand.

He takes one look at you two and snorts. “You guys are terrible at hiding this, you know?”

Jisung tries to play it cool. “Hiding what?”

Seungmin rolls his eyes. “Please, I’ve seen more subtlety in a sledgehammer. Just be glad it’s me and not someone with a camera.”

Your face heats up, and you bury it in Jisung’s shoulder, mumbling something about how you’re trying your best. Jisung just laughs, pulling you closer.

As the day goes on, you and Jisung keep getting caught. Jeongin walks in on you sharing a secret kiss in the hallway and immediately turns on his heel, muttering about how he didn’t need to see that. Hyunjin catches you holding hands under the table and just smirks, giving you a knowing look. Even Minho, who’s usually oblivious to everything, notices the way you and Jisung look at each other and shakes his head with a sigh.

Finally, the inevitable happens. You’re in the studio again, thinking you’re safe. Jisung has you pressed against the wall, his lips on yours, when the door flies open. This time, it’s everyone—all of them, standing there with various expressions of shock, amusement, and exasperation.

“Seriously?” Chan groans, rubbing his temples. “Can you two not keep it in your pants for one minute?”

Felix is laughing so hard he’s doubled over, while Hyunjin and Jeongin exchange high-fives. Seungmin just looks resigned, and Minho’s smirk is wider than ever.

You and Jisung separate, both of you blushing furiously. “Well,” you say, trying to salvage some dignity. “Surprise?”

“Yeah, no shit,” Chan says, but he’s smiling now. “Just... next time, maybe lock the door?”

Jisung chuckles, pulling you into his side. “Noted, boss.”

As everyone piles into the room, the teasing starts in earnest. You feel a warmth spreading through you, knowing that even though you’ve been caught, you’re surrounded by people who care about you.

© deerlino (est. 100624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3

#han x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #jisung x reader #skz fluff #han fluff #jisung fluff #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #han x you #jisung x you #stray kids x you #han imagines #jisung imagines #han scenarios #jisung scenarios #han fanfic #jisung fanfic #*writing #*asks #*requests

[starlightkun]

little league ➠ teaser [sungchan]

➠ teaser word count: 1383 | full fic: 13.5k ➠ warnings: scenes of a child crying if you don’t want to read that (nightmares and stuff), also people are called mommy/daddy in this so if you can’t be normal abt that please skip this one ➠ genre: fluff, angst? but like around them in terms of life not within their relationship, established relationship, parents sungchan/reader, former hockey captain sungchan, chronically ill reader (chronic migraines), part of the buzzer beater series (after freezing the puck, or if you’ve only read buzzer beater & 27jsc, this should still make sense!) ➠ extra info: the reader in this has chronic migraines, which i have. when the reader’s migraines, experiences as a chronically ill person, and thoughts about being chronically ill are described, that is me writing directly from my own life. i am not generalizing the lives of all people with chronic migraines/chronic illnesses, but i am sending all my love to any readers out there living with a chronic illness, and here’s a reminder to go take your meds! ➠ estimated release: saturday, june 15, 2024 3:00 p.m. eastern time

“Hey, buddy,” Sungchan called for your son’s attention, his hands occupied with groceries. “Do you want me or Mommy to help you get ready for your nap? Or are you going to try to do it yourself?”

“Mm…” He looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “Mommy!”

“Alright, help with the groceries then I’ll help you, Binnie,” you bargained, putting a bag down on the ground in his reach.

As Woobin dutifully put the bags of chips and boxes of gummies on the lower shelves of the pantry that he could reach, you and Sungchan quickly put away the rest of the groceries. When there was just cleaning and other household supplies left, your husband grabbed those and nodded towards your son.

“Go put buddy down, I’ve got this.”

“Thanks, Channie,” you pecked his cheek before turning to your child. “Lead the way!”

Woobin was able to get into his pajamas by himself, so you were really just there to tuck him in and kiss his forehead. You never bought into the “cry themselves out” mindset from the get-go, and to this day would sit with him until he fell asleep if he asked.

Except this time, he didn’t get into bed at all, standing next to the piece of furniture with you and staring at it like you were about to cliff dive instead of nap. He looked up at you, and you already saw his bottom lip quivering.

“Mommy?”

“Yeah, Binnie, I’m right here, my sweet,” you promised, kneeling down in front of him so you were eye-to-eye. “What’s wrong?”

He threw his arms around your neck, taking quick, shallow breaths as he very bravely tried to communicate with you. “I don’t wanna—I don’t wanna…”

“Okay, I won’t make you right now,” you promised, rubbing his back. “Will you tell me what’s making you upset? Is it the nap? Going to sleep? Did you have a bad dream?”

But he had already devolved into incomprehensible sobs, and you bit your lip at the twinge in your chest. “Alright, sweet, how about we go to Mommy and Daddy’s room? Hm? And I’ll read you something. If you don’t want to nap, you don’t have to today, okay? Sound good?”

You could feel him nod into your shoulder, and that was all you needed to pick him up and settle him on your hip to carry him out of his room. As you passed by Sungchan putting away new bottles of dish soap and dishwasher pods under the sink, he gave you a concerned look. You mouthed a ‘later’ to him as you took your son across your house and into your room. As you passed by your bookshelf, you quickly selected a book, then sat down at the head of your bed, Woobin on your lap. Pulling your blanket up over you two, you let him get settled in and comfortable, still very much crying all the while.

Holding your book with one hand and resting the other on his back, you started reading. After a while, his sobs died down to hiccups, which petered out to just the occasional sniffle. But you could see that he was still awake, his eyes open and following your place as you read. Then, after a while longer, they started to slowly fall shut and his chin would tilt down, then he’d quickly open his eyes again and jerk his head up. Finally, he couldn’t fight the heaviness of his lids, and he fell asleep. You put your bookmark in where you were just before his eyes closed, but kept reading past that, just in case. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the door handle slowly turn, and your bedroom door inch open before Sungchan peered in.

Your husband pointed to the boy in your lap, then made a gesture of pretending to sleep on a pillow, lifting his eyebrows questioningly after. You nodded, still reading softly.

Sungchan slipped in the room, closing the door quietly behind him as well. Having come to a stopping place, you finally closed your book and set it aside on the one you already had on your nightstand.

“Really? You’re reading Breton lais to our child?” Sungchan’s teasing whisper was barely audible. “He’s going to start school saying stuff like nary and furthermore.”

“Says the man who knew I was reading a Breton lai,” you shot back just as quietly.

“Getting married to a lit professor, you pick up a few things.” He then looked down at Woobin. “What happened?”

You sighed and readjusted slightly to hold him tighter now that you had two free arms. “I don’t know. He couldn’t tell me. As soon as he had to get into bed for his nap he just… broke down.”

A deep frown cut across Sungchan’s face as he stroked your son’s hair, but he said nothing else. He left the room, and you heard him moving around throughout the house as you picked up the other book from your nightstand. Eventually, he meandered back in, sitting on his side of the bed and setting up his laptop to quietly work beside you as your son continued napping on your lap and you continued your book. In addition to doing research at the university and being the assistant coach for the hockey team, Sungchan had picked up teaching a couple of Intro to Biology for majors sections, and you could see him answering emails from his students out of the corner of your eye. You were rereading the material for the Direct Study you were leading next semester.

Eventually, Woobin slowly started stirring, grumbling, yawning, and rubbing at his eyes before burying his face back in your chest with a sigh. You stroked his back, attention still on your book. He turned over in your arms when he finally decided that he was awake, blinking his eyes open and staring off into the middle distance.

“Hey, Binnie, you awake?” Sungchan asked quietly.

He nodded slowly, stretching his arms up, and you had to duck your head out of the way to avoid getting smacked in the face by a stray hand.

“Sleep good?” Your husband kept talking to him.

He nodded again, letting out another adorable little yawn.

“Of course you did,” Sungchan chuckled, gently pinching the tip of his nose. “You got the best seat in the house right there, bud.”

Woobin made grabby hands at Sungchan, and he moved his laptop to the side to transfer him from your lap to his, pressing a kiss to forehead once he was settled in against his chest.

“Uncle Chenle is going to be over soon,” you reminded your son of your plans for the night. “Are you excited?”

He perked up at this. “Yeah! He said he was gonna bring me back a souvenir!”

“He does love to spoil you,” Sungchan shook his head, ruffling the boy’s hair.

As Woobin busied himself with his toys in his room, the horrors of naptime all but forgotten, you and Sungchan were having a fervent, whispered conversation in your bedroom.

“Should we even go tonight?” You asked, pulling your outfit on.

“I know, I’m worried about bedtime…” Sungchan sighed, nevertheless assisting you with your zipper.

“Chenle’s really good with him, and you know how much he dotes on Woobin.” You paused in front of the mirror, smoothing out the wrinkles. You weren’t sure if you were trying to convince yourself or your husband at this point.

“I know, I don’t doubt how much he loves our kid, or how much buddy loves him,” he replied, fidgeting with his tie behind you. “I just… would hate to not be there.”

“Me too,” you replied quietly, turning around to fix his tie yourself. “I can practically feel the stress migraine coming on thinking about it.”

“Okay, well don’t do that, baby,” Sungchan insisted, resting his hands on your waist to pull you closer. “I mean, that didn’t happen at bedtime yesterday, did it?”

“No, it didn’t,” you agreed. “Or naptime yesterday…”

“Who’s to say it’ll happen at bedtime today?” He suggested. “Might’ve been a one-time thing. Or only for naps.”

“Right.” You breathed out, having finished with his tie, and now looked up at him questioningly. “So we’re going?”

“Seems like it.”

➠ series masterlist | blog masterlist

#sungchan x reader #riize x reader #sungchan #sungchan imagines #riize imagines #sungchan imagine #riize imagine #nct x reader #nct imagine #nct imagines #jung sungchan #i: sungchan #f: little league #s: buzzer beater #writing #text #mine #jungsung #bias tag #ll: teaser

[berrygoodjob]

Your pervert hc’s will not leave my brain, all I can think about is how the rest of the cast would act, cause I just know Alan and Lucas would both feel so guilty and ashamed of themselves, and I can only think of the word mortified when I think of Ren, Haku, and Sho with this one.

It has me really hoping you’re gonna put a few more of these out for sure, but either way, thanks for the writing you’ve already done, the fandom’s so new there’s so few fics, I’m glad I found this blog!

MDNI 18+

Pervert!TD

ft: Alan, Luca, Ren, Sho

Part one part two

Alan Mido

—pervert!Alan who looks away after the first time he accidentally checks you out. He just got so hard he doesn’t even know what to do. Like it was just a quick up and down glance. He has to excuse himself from the room immediately

—pervert!Alan who now can’t stop thinking of what it would feel like to have your hands pumping his dick instead of his own

—pervert!Alan does in fact feel INCREDIBLY guilty for his own thoughts. But even just looking at you while you’re talking about anything or everything he’s just trying to keep himself from imagining your lips around his cock

—pervert!Alan does his best to drown those thoughts, but they always come back to him when he’s alone at night, but it’s better than the thoughts that plagued him before you came along

—pervert!Alan wishes he could taste you, so badly, he needs to more than anything know what it tastes like to make you feel good. He knows if you’d let him, he could sit there and just pleasure you for hours on end like a starved man. He knows he’d take his sweet time and savor every moment, but for now, just having you in his presence is enough for him

Lucas Errant

—pervert!Luca cannot stop thinking about how badly he’d like to rail you. Stuff both his dick and all his stress somewhere deep inside you all at once

—pervert!Luca who peeks down your shirt in class accidentally once, and now ‘accidentally’ will drop pens or papers in hopes that you’ll bend over and pick it up just so he can sneak another peek

—pervert!Luca definitely knows better and feel bad for desiring you so deeply, but also hearing you say his name almost made him bust in his pants once

—pervert!Luca does his best to stop himself from jerking off to the thought of one of his few friends at darkwik, also the fact that you’re cursed makes it so much worse,,, he feels so bad, but cumming to the thought of you feels sooooo good

—pervert!Luca accidentally whimpered once because your hand grazed his hip as you were passing by, he really hopes you didn’t hear….

Ren Shiranami

—pervert!Ren who was totally normal in his feelings about you until he felt you cling to him one time on a mission. There couldn’t have been a worse moment for him to be on rock hard. Worst part is both Haru and Towa noticed too

—pervert!Ren makes sure his doors and windows are locked and covered when he’s jerking it to a photo of you

—pervert!Ren who invites you over to watch the directors cut of his favorite horror movie, and will be sniffing the space you occupied once you leave, just to get a little relief from the raging boner he had the whole time

—pervert!Ren definitely thinks about how badly you’d probably react if he just moved his hand down your chest and felt around a bit…. Surely it wouldn’t be that bad…. Who is he kidding, that’d make him look like as much of a weirdo as the others in a much worse way….

—pervert!Ren who picks movies with sex scene to watch how you react, maybe if he’s lucky you’ll leave a little wet spot from arousal on his bed for him to press his face into later…. He’ll be absolutely mortified by his own depravity doing this, but fuck all hell it feels so good…

Shohei Haizono

—pervert!Sho who was walked in on once by Leo right as he moaned your name, and is now being blackmailed into hanging out with you more (Leo is trying to set them up in the only way he knows how, blackmail)

—pervert!Sho loves taking you out for rides in his bike just to feel your body all pressed up against him

—pervert!Sho curses himself for having such perverted thoughts when you’ve done nothing but show him genuine kindness, but also he just wants to see how your ass would look riding him….. it’s only natural, right?

—pervert!Sho stays a little too close and is always ready to pull you around if youre not paying attention to where you’re walking. He’ll scold you for it, but inside he’s really just thinking about how easily he could pick you up and buck up into you since you’re so light to him (his goulish strength is wild picking up industrial refrigerators and shit)

—pervert!Sho who has a wet dream about you posing naked on his bike and now he has regular fantasies about bending you over and fucking your brains out on it, he keeps it to himself though… and the box of tissues by his bed

#tokyo debunker #tokyo debunkers #tokyo debunkers smut #tokyo debunkers x reader #alan mido #shohei haizono smut #shohei haizono x reader #shohei haizono #sho x reader #ren shiranami #lucas errant #Alan Mido x reader #Alan Mido smut

[ghostboneswrites2]

Hii!!! This account has been my go-to for daryl fics since ive been into him. And i really love the way you write!! But since im a sucker for angst and anything cry-worthy, ive been wanting a fic where its in pre-negan and to negan's first appearance timeline— after rick decides to bring maggie to the hilltop to figure out what's wrong with her, the reader is to stay with gabriel to watch out for alexandria, but considering how her anxiety for daryl and the other's safety is eating her she went out to look for them, using the tracking skills daryl had taught her. The time she found the group was at the lineup, Abraham's head already bashed to a unidentifiable pulp. Due to the scene she couldnt help but act in fury and tried attacking negan but his men was able to catch up and before she could even lay a finger on negan, she was kneeling aswell. this triggers Daryl, not being able to see reader in such danger as he vowed to protect her at all cost and punched negan which causes him to stumble. And instead of glenn dying at Daryl's outburst, its the reader who gets a taste of lucille.

And i leave the rest to you! :DD

Well first of all anon I am HONORED to be your go to 🥹 please accept this flower as a token of my appreciation 🌸

Anyways, I’m an absolute sucker for angst and you have INSPIRED ME. I hope you’re ready for the b i g sad.

*ahem* *cracks knuckles*

The Man Who…

Masterlist || Taglist

(Fem!Reader) (Reader Description: has hair)

Warnings: blood, gore, profanity

With your teeth chewing tirelessly at your nail beds, the flesh had become raw. A faint hue of blood settled in between the cracks on your lips.

A deep pit had formed in your gut. It was vacuous, consuming. Your nerves were eating you alive. Nobody had come back yet. You knew it wouldn’t be a quick trip, but still. And nobody had radioed back in over an hour.

You sucked in a sharp breath, partially in hopes that the sensation of air filling your lungs would calm the rapid pace of your heart.

“Is something the matter?” Gabriel asked you, having picked up on your restlessness.

“We haven’t heard from them.” You said simply, foot tapping against the ground. Gabriel pressed his lips together and nodded.

“The Lord is with them. They’ll be okay.” He assured you. With a scoff, your rolled your eyes. Who was he to preach to you in times of need? What did he care? He left his entire congregation to be eaten alive.

“I have to use the bathroom.” You announced abruptly, pushing your chair back and exiting the room with haste. You stomped down the hall into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

You stared at yourself for a while, begging your reflection for some guidance. Daryl told you to stay put. You made a deal with him a long time ago, never to break away from the plan unless you had no choice. However, would he sit idly by if he didn’t know you were safe? Surely not. You may have made a deal with him, but the two of you had also taken an oath to each other.

It was the silent, unspoken kind of promise. Neither of you needed to say it out loud, you just knew. You’d always protect each other, you’d always find each other, and you’d never leave the other behind. So why were you still standing there?

They would have contacted you by now if they were okay. That was the plan, and you never strayed away from the plan.

Without a second thought, you marched out of the bathroom and made hast to the armory, mapping out a plan in your mind as you did so.

……

The engine sputtered as you pulled the key from the ignition. You’d been driving for roughly an hour, following the route the others would have taken. You only pulled over when you saw the RV parked on the side of the road.

As you examined the scene around the vacant house-on-wheels, you were able to put Daryl’s teachings to use in identifying the tracks leading into the trees. The woods were eerily quiet as you followed the trail of disturbed undergrowth. Dusk was settling in, and the only sound to be identified were the rhythmic chirps of frogs and crickets.

Nightfall crept up on you quickly. Your breath had become visible in the moonlight, chills crawling all over you. Regardless, you pressed on. The night could throw anything your way, but you wouldn’t turn back. The idea that something was terribly wrong hadn’t eased. If anything, the feeling grew more dire, as if you were running out of time.

You had been consumed entirely by your thoughts at this point, worst case scenarios floating around in a sea of worry inside your mind. You were only brought back to the present when you caught a glimpse of shining lights just up ahead. Hurriedly, you crouched down into some shrubbery. The bright lights casted shadows through the leaves that danced over your face as you peered through the bushes to see what was going on.

It was hard to make out, but you could see a wall of people surrounding another RV. There was a voice, too, hidden behind the barricade of bodies. It was giving some kind of speech that you couldn’t quite pick up on. The people surrounding the scene were predatory in their demeanor, like a pack of hungry hyenas cornering their kill.

You watched for some time before you caught onto a second voice — one with more grit to it — and you recognized it immediately.

Rick was on the other side of these people, which meant the rest of your family was too. It meant Daryl would be there too.

As carefully as you could, you crawled closer, sticking low into to the shadows. You could almost make out what was being said when a strong pair of arms yolked you up by the waist. A gust of breath escaped you as your back impacted a solid chest. You flailed your arms and legs, hissing profanities in between your hunts and growls. Whoever it was struggled to contain you, but they were still just strong enough to hold you.

The people who previously had their backs to you parted, allowing entrance into their circle. The man who had your restrained dragged you into the middle. When you finally grew tired of struggling and had a chance to look around, you took it all in.

Your friends were all kneeling on the ground, shock and grief written all over their faces. People you’d never seen before surrounded you.

Your captor threw you down in to the dirt. You caught yourself with your hands. A pair of boots stepped in front of you. Your eyes followed them up to a face.

He was tall and menacing. A wide grin spear over his lips as he chuckled, swinging a bat over his shoulder.

“She was watching from the bushes, sir.” The man who found you reported.

“Huh.” He hummed, spinning on his heel to face Rick. “One of yours, I take it?”

Rick hesitated to nod. The man thought for a moment, as you continued to study the scene around you. When your eyes fell on Abraham — or, what used to be Abraham — a wave a nausea washed over you. You slapped your hand over your mouth to suppress a gag.

“Oh, shit.” The man chuckled. “Guess you missed that part. See, that’s payback for fucking with me.”

“You cocksucker.” You growled, scowling as you lunched up at the man. Arms wrapped around you again, shoving you back down into the dirt. He dragged you over to Rick and the others, kicking you into place.

That was all Daryl could bare. His chest tightened, a sharp feeling darting from his core down into he tips of his fingers. His face went numb with nerves. He had no time to think. Before you could even push yourself off the ground, Daryl sprung forward and landed a solid punch across Negan’s face.

Two men quickly dragged Daryl back into place, one of them holding a familiar crossbow to his head. “Let me do it, boss.” The man begged.

Negan recollected himself quickly, laughing at the audacity required to attack him under such circumstances. Had he not made himself clear?

“Nah. That’s not gonna work.” Negan shook his head. “I told you. No exceptions.”

In the blink of an eye his bat was raised. Time slowed down, nearly halted for those around you. You looked up, tears flowing softly down your cheeks. For a moment, you felt peace. The next moment, fear. Finally, pain. A searing, crushing, all-consuming kind of pain. A loud crunch echoed through the trees. Your ears rang loudly, vision blurry and red. You blinked rapidly, throwing to clear whatever was in your eyes.

Gasps and sobs followed. Your friends and family around you watched in horror as you struggled to sit back up. It didn’t seem like you really registered what happened. You were too disoriented from the first blow to feel the second one.

You gurgled as tried to speak, blood spurting from your lips. Daryl’s cries rattled his body, barely able to make a sound as his breath seemed to be knocked out every time the bat fell down on your skull.

The only thing you could see was a blur of lights and shadows, tainted red with your own blood. For everyone else, the view was much more gruesome. Bits of bone and brain were hanging from your frizz of hair, some of which had been snagged on Lucille’s barbed wire dressing and ripped out. Only two blows from the bat and your were fully incapacitated, reduced to a bloody blubbering lump on the ground with a dent in your skull.

Weak with horror, Daryl lost the strength to sit straight. He fell tot he ground, attempting to drag himself toward you. A heavy boot pressed into his back, holding him firmly down.

Even Negan seemed to falter at the sight of his own destruction. Killing women was a new low for him, even with his track record. Especially in such a barbaric fashion. A sniffed and frowned, gripping Lucille tightly. It was too late for second thoughts. Daryl had to be taught a lesson. He had to understand how things would be from now on. There would be no more bravery or heroism. There would only be Negan.

He raised the bat once more, glancing over to Daryl as he groveled and sobbed below Dwight’s boot. The pain in Daryl’s eyes struck a chord in Negan. It was an unmistakable kind of reaction. The kind you could only bring out of a man when you were taking away the person he loved. Negan knew that feeling all too well. His eyes fell back down to you, twitching and squeaking with pain and confusion. He decided the best thing he could do for you was to swing hard and end your misery.

The final blow was the loudest, the messiest, the one nobody could bare to watch. Blood and brain matter splattered across those close to you. Daryl, Rosita, Negan, Dwight. Everyone was silent, save for a few sobs and the only pairs of eyes that never left you were those of Daryl and Negan. The man who loved you, and the man that killed you.

……

On days like this, Daryl found his peace in the woods. His fondest memories were there.

It was the only place he could still be close to you. Near the small streams, he’d hear echoes of your laughter from years passed. He’d see the glow in your hair as the rays of sunlight filtered through the treetops, and he’d smell your sun baked scalp in the wind, just like when he’d hug you tight and press his nose into your hair.

You were everywhere around him, even if you were long gone. He’d visit this spot often. Some found this place to be haunted. Too many bad memories plagued the grounds. But, to Daryl, it was sacred. It was the last place he saw you, living and breathing.

Your body was gone from there, but your presence lingered. Your blood had soaked into the dirt long ago, mingling with the rain as it watered the earth to sprout new life. When he cremated you, he spread the ashes here. You’d be part of the earth now and forever, and he’d always have this place to visit when he missed you.

Hell, he always missed you. He never stopped thinking about you. The war was over years ago, and new threats had risen and fell. Still, you were all around him. He vowed to protect you always. He may have failed at that, but he’d never allow himself to stop honoring you. He was the man who loved you, and he’d be the man who remembered you even when no one else did.

He took a deep breath and looked down at the bouquet of flowers he’d picked at the Kingdom. A long time ago, when he first escaped the Sanctuary, he returned to this spot to decorate it. He’d lugged heavy stones and sturdy branches over and arranged them around the spot where you died. Every time he came back, he wove flowers into the crevices between the stones and twigs. He swept away fallen leaves and shooed away unwanted pests. He’d bring random trinkets and pieces of jewelry he thought you’d like and arrange them atop the stones. There was a blend of old tarnished items, dead flowers, and the new trinkets and floral arrangements he’d brought just now.

The most important thing, though, was the handwritten letter he’d always bring along. He’d wait until he had enough to tell you, then he’d write up a lengthy letter, just to sit and read it to you there. This time, he could only write of how much he missed you. How dreary life had become without you. How he missed your sarcasm, your giggle, your voice, your singing. He talked about Judith and RJ, and how he wished he could have had a child with you. He was always afraid of fatherhood, but somehow it seemed possible with you. If only you were there.

When he finished, he let the tears flow freely. He cried to you, cried for you. Eventually he’d clean himself up and place a kiss on the necklace draped over the biggest stone. It was your necklace, the one you had never taken off since he met you. It was the last tangible part of you he was able to touch.

“See ya later.” He whispered as he walked away.

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix @superbowlisgay @liizzygrant @eddiemunsonsupremecy

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl x female reader #daryl twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x you #daryl x y/n

[pimosworld]

would you be able to write something about santi and frankie making a tree house for the reader's kids?

her kids have always wanted one and there's a perfect tree for it right in the center of the back yard, but she's never had the time to make it herself or get a professional to make it.

one day, at a neighborhood barbecue, pope is talking to reader's kids (trying desperately to be their favorite uncle) when they inform him of their plan of how to get their mom to make their tree house.

he tells them to draw him up a plan of their dream tree house and tells them he'll see what he can do. with the help of fish, they draw up a real plan of action from the drawing and set out finding materials. reclaimed wood, an old slide that really just needs a fresh paint job, a carpet to go inside, and some old moroccan style tiles for the roof.

they show up, truck bed full of supplies, unannounced and get to work unloading and constructing the thing. how can the reader be so mad when her kids look so happy helping them build it and playing in it once it's built?!

(new anon, sorry that this was so long.)

Pairing-Triple frontier boys x f!reader

Summary-Your kids find a way to get what they want both for you and for them.

CW-SFW, Fluff, angst, mentions of parent loss, mentions of spouse loss, tf boys being protective, tf boys being great uncles, mentions of insecurities, kids being menaces, dating, cursing, inaccurate descriptions of tree house build time because this is my world and we can build tree houses quickly, so much fluff. The boys being good with their hands.

WC-2.7k

A/N- I’m sorry this took me so long anon. Writers block sucks but it’s only fitting that the anniversary of my first ever fic COMPANY that came up a few weeks ago featuring the tf boys is kicked off with your request for some Frankie and Santi being amazing. I made some adjustments but I hope this is everything you wanted and more.

[Triple Frontier Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

If you build it

“I can tell they’re up to something.” Santi shoots you a look as he flips the burgers on the grill. 

  “They’re kids of course they’re up to something. The question is what.” Santi closes the grill as he looks across the wide expanse of yard at his niece and nephew playing in the sandbox. 

  It looks like the childlike version of an ops mission happening. To someone else it may just look like a little girl playing with a stick in the sand but Santi knows better than that. 

  ****

  It’s such an odd feeling, you should still be grieving right? You most certainly shouldn’t be looking at Santi and his chiseled jaw as he watches your kids play. Or watching the way his muscles flex in his tight tee shirt as he crosses his arms. You’re so distracted you don’t even realize he’s speaking to you. 

  “Can you watch the grill for a second?” He raises an eyebrow at you and you feel flushed for all the wrong reasons. The sweltering heat does nothing to hide your embarrassment. 

  “Ya of course but don’t be gone too long. I’ve been known to burn anything on the grill.” 

  “I’ll make it quick then.” He winks at you as he walks across your lush green yard. Swiftly dodging a football that Benny throws deliberately at his head as he flips him off in return. 

  “You’re gonna burn a hole in his pants if you keep staring.” You jump at the sound of Frankie’s voice and he has the decency to look apologetic at your reaction. 

  You hadn’t really noticed how much they’ve all aged in the last few months. His hair is a little longer as it curls around his cap. His worry lines are just a bit deeper than you last remember them being. Yet he still smiles at you all the same as he pulls you into a deep hug, kissing the top of your head. 

  “I didn’t mean to scare you cariño, I was only joking.” 

  You shove him off playfully as you open the grill again. “I wasn’t staring.” 

  He bumps you out of the way as he grabs the spatula from your hand. “Sure…whatever you say. Your secrets are safe with me.” You watch him as he effortlessly dispatches all the burgers to a plate and sets them aside. 

  You bite your lip as you wait for him to say something but you know he’s giving you time to think. Something he’s always done for you, knowing that your mind is going a mile a minute and if anyone interrupts that train of thought it might be gone forever. 

  He’s just standing beside you like a steady weight as he glances around the yard at some people he barely knows and others he knows like the back of his hand. Now it’s mostly close friends and one or two neighbors, compared to several months ago when he couldn’t pick out a familiar face among the crowd. People tend to forget that your grieving continues even long after you’ve decided not to show up. 

  He shouldn’t feel bad for you because you’re a strong woman. More resilient than any of them could ever be. 

  “Frankie, can I ask you something?” You say with a nervous smile. 

  “You’re allowed to move on.” 

  You glance up at him and it’s intense the way he meets your eyes. “I didn’t ask the question.” 

  “You didn’t have to…my answer is still the same.” 

  ****

  As Santi approaches the sandbox he can see some kind of intricate drawing. Lexi is using a stick practically the size of her to draw it out while her brother Liam watches from the corner. She looks so much like you, especially with her focused face on as she draws another detailed set of lines that he still can’t quite make out. 

  Liam glances up at him and gestures with his fingers to stay quiet. Santi takes a seat at the corner of the box near him as they patiently wait for her to finish. He looks so much like him that Santi has a hard time not getting choked up, he’s grateful that they both have your personality. 

  “Okay.” Lexi throws the stick to the side and dusts her hands off on her white skirt. “I think it’s done.” She looks up and flashes a toothy smile at Santi and he can’t help the way his heart melts. 

  “Can I ask what exactly this is?” 

  The little girl lets out a deep sigh as she looks over at her twin brother and he just holds his hands out in silent communication that she needs to take the lead. 

  “Well…this is a tree house.” She pauses briefly and Santi thinks that’s cool that she can draw but then she starts. In great detail for several minutes animatedly explaining the process of her vision coming to life. 

  Santi has to get up and stand from her perspective to really get a grasp of what she’s talking about. He tries to follow along as she explains the duel ladder system, one on the trunk and another hanging down from the middle entrance of the house. Two doors, one for entry and the other for the slide,that lets out perfectly into the softest patch of grass in the yard. Her and her brother evidently couldn’t decide on carpet or tile so they opted to split it down the middle. Her half would be tile and his half would be carpet. They would obviously need enough room for arts and crafts, the kitchen and naps. 

  He’s never been so impressed with an eight year old in his entire life. 

  He’s so enthralled with the design that he doesn’t notice the little girl standing there staring up at him expectantly. 

  “So what do you think?” She’s wringing her little hands together as she glances over at her brother with an equally curious look on his face. As if a lightbulb goes off in his head Santi is suddenly aware of what exactly they were up to. 

  “Mija…are you asking if I can help?” 

  She nods her head as she rocks back and forth in the sand. 

  “We both have allowances if that helps.” Liam chimes in from the corner of the sandbox and Santi has to try to disguise his smile behind his hand. 

  “Foods ready!” You yell from across the yard and Santi meets your eyes. A look of what are you up to written all across your face. 

  He crouches down waving Liam over and the little boy carefully avoids the blueprints in the sand to join them. “Okay…here is what I want you to do.” 

  ****

  Your kids are being uncharacteristically good. They finished all their food, they haven’t bothered you in over an hour and even offered to help clean up the table after everyone ate. 

  Most everyone has cleared out from the barbecue besides for the boys who seem to be enthralled with something over by the sandbox. Frankie keeps glancing over his shoulder at you and Will has shot you a thumbs up twice. If they thought subtlety was their strong suit they are sadly mistaken. You often wonder how they managed to be special ops and keep things a secret when it’s so obvious they’ve all got something up their sleeve. 

  ****

  The something they had planned despite your initial worry was in fact a much needed day for yourself. Benny was going to take the kids to the zoo and despite wanting all the credit Will assured you he would be accompanying them so that an adult would be present. 

  Over the last several months various repairs around the house had gone undone in the chaos of being a newly single mom. Frankie and Santi volunteered to spend the day getting your house in order while you had a full day planned with Will’s wife Jenna. Brunch, pedicures, shopping…you couldn’t remember the last time you treated yourself to a day that wasn’t centered around your kids. As much as you loved them you knew that at times it felt like the person you used to be was long buried underneath a world of stress and hurt. 

  Dating was completely off the table at the moment…especially since your current situation was all but off limits. Taking care of yourself for once could be a great start in the right direction. 

  ****

  “I told you to get half inch screws Pope.” 

  “Those are half inch!” Santi says as he hears Frankie grumbling under his breath. 

  “These are definitely a quarter inch and that explains another problem.” Frankie chides as Santi flips him off. 

  They’ve been at this for a few hours having completed the tasks in your house in a matter of no time. All this a ruse to get the tree house completed before you and the kids are back from your day out. 

  It’s been awhile since they’ve done something like this. Not just the physical labor but the reward at the end being something that they know is going to brighten a lot of days. They may bicker and fight like brothers but at the end of the day Santi knows how much they both needed this. To have their minds occupied with an intricate task. 

  Intricate doesn’t even begin to describe what’s unfolded before them. With their niece's original design in mind and a few additions when they got to the store this is turning out to be better than some places they’ve slept while in the service. 

  Frankie is putting the finishing touches on the bug screen that he decided would be a good addition to the entryway for the balmy summer nights. Santi’s never felt so large while he sits on the wooden bench that doubles as a reading nook. The wood matching the same structure that he knows could withstand any storm or hurricane. The sun is setting, casting a shadow along the bright yellow carpet they found on clearance at the back of the home decor store. 

  The leftover Talavera tiles Santi had from his home remodel fit perfectly on the half that would be the makeshift kitchen. 

  There are three exits and two entries. The trap door with a knotted rope, the wooden plank stair steps and the slide that leads to the softest patch of grass in the yard. 

  Santiago’s thoughts are interrupted by the sound of car doors slamming and children’s laughter. 

  “We should head down.” Frankie grunts as he shuffles over to the slide, reaching for his standard heating oil cap placed on the bench nook. 

  Santi raises his eyebrows at the man taking in the scene about to unfold. 

  “What? How else are we supposed to get down?” 

  “Oh I don’t know the stairs or the rope maybe?” He says sarcastically. “We don’t need you breaking the slide before they even get a chance.” 

  “Fuck you, this slide was built to withstand a hurricane.” 

  His nieces squeal from across the yard interrupts their fifth squabble of the day. 

  Frankie flashes him a wide grin. “Last man down has to ask their mom on a date.” 

  “What?!” 

  “Byeeee.” Frankie slides away, throwing him the middle finger on the way down. 

  Santi had already talked to him about this ad nauseam. It always felt like the wrong place at the wrong time. 

  He opened the latch to the trap door, opting to climb down to spare him the embarrassment of using a children’s slide in front of you. 

  ****

  You pulled up to the house at the exact same time as Will and Ben. You don’t remember the last time you’d felt this refreshed. Your hair and nails done, way too many bags piled in the backseat of Jenna’s car with a new wardrobe. It was exactly what you needed and a much needed conversation with another woman to reassure you that you were perfectly capable of making your own decisions about your love life. You shouldn’t feel guilty about moving on and doing what’s best for you and your children. 

  You half expected your kids to be happy to see you but they both gave you light hearted waves as they raced each other around the side of the house, leaving you in the driveway with Will and Ben with amused looks on their faces. 

  “What’s gotten into them?” You say as the boys shoot each other a look and Jenna takes your hand on hers to lead you around the house. 

  “It’s better to ask for forgiveness than for permission right?” Ben says from behind you and now you’re really starting to worry. Your daughter's screech has you pulling away as you run into the backyard. 

  The sight you’re met with is one that completely knocks you off your feet. Your children are jumping up and down in front of a beaming Frankie and the largest tree house structure you’ve ever seen. This is something out of an outdoor life magazine. 

  You don’t realize you're frozen in place as the rest of the gang join him on the lawn. Santiago perhaps on purpose opted to make your life that much harder by effortlessly climbing down the rope ladder. In all the years he’s been out of the service the man still has an impeccable physique. You will your feet to move as you take in the thing that your kids have been asking you for since they could talk. The thing your husband didn’t make time for and the daunting task seemed impossible for you on your own. Paying someone was out of the question and you were too prideful to ask the boys to help you out anymore than they already did. 

  You don’t even realize you’re crying until Santiago approaches with the most worried look you’ve ever seen on his face. 

  “Look, I’m really sorry if we overstepped. I know we should’ve asked and it wasn’t our place…but the kids-“ 

  His ramblings are cut short when you throw yourself into him. He instinctively hugs you tight as he feels the wetness from your eyes soak into his shirt. 

  It’s embarrassing to admit how long it’s been since a man has held you and right now you can feel your resolve breaking as he soothingly rubs his hands down your back to calm your tears. 

  “I don’t know how to thank you Santi.” You mumble into his chest as you try to calm your beating heart. 

  It’s a moment before you break apart and he really gets a good look at you. Even with fresh tears in your eyes you look stunning. The most relaxed he’s seen you look in ages and just as beautiful as the day Tom introduced you to the boys. 

  With the group and the kids thoroughly distracted he figures now is as good a time as any. He’s far enough away that if you reject him he can slink out of the backyard and disappear to another country for three to six months while the shame dies down. 

  “Listen, I have to say something before I lose the courage to say it.” He nervously rubs the back of his neck as he focuses on some inanimate object behind you. “I understand if you’re not ready or you think this is highly inappropriate and in that case I’ll pretend this never happened.” 

  You can feel the hairs stand up on your arms and you dig your nails into your palm to keep from passing out at this very moment.

  “I know it’s wrong to say but I’ve always thought you and the kids deserved better. You know I loved him but it killed me to see the way he treated you and in another life perhaps I met you first and things would look a little different. I just can’t help but think maybe this can be a second chance and if you’re willing, I’d like to take you out sometime.” 

  The silence is deafening as you try to form words and Santi looks as though he wants to spontaneously combust at your lack of response. In all honesty you were never really good at flirting and now you’re spiraling because what do you say besides. 

  “Yes.” 

  He lets out a huge sigh of relief as he looks up at the sky thanking whoever is watching that he didn’t just make a complete fool of himself. 

  You both turn around to see Benny helping your son climb the rope and Frankie sliding down with your daughter in his lap as she claps her hands. Will and his wife made it inside at some point and they wave to you both from the large open window. 

  “It looks like I may be able to take you up on that offer tonight.” 

#triple frontier #frankie morales x reader #santi x reader #tf boys x reader #triple frontier fanfiction #santiago garcia fluff #santiago garcia x francisco morales #santiago garcia x reader #frankie morales fanfiction #Benny miller #will miller #triple frontier au #triple frontier fic #pedro pascal characters #oscar isaac characters #triple frontier x reader #santiago pope garcia angst #santiago pope garcia fluff

[grind-pantera]

Have ever thought of reader and noa breaking up?

I have thought about it tbh im an angst girl and it is my favorite thing to write, imagine this and if you guys are really into it? I can make a full fic: Noa and you mating. Not ceremoniously like his Clan would anticipate but secretly, just for the two of you, just to experience it before the entire Clan knew. Afterwards, as you're lightly placing your hand onto his shoulder as he slept, you found yourself in turmoil thinking of what this meant for the future. You're a human, Noa an Ape. He had a planned destiny, as the Eagle Clan leader. He needed to have their customs met fully, he needed a mate that could support him and understand, he needed to eventually produce an heir, maybe more...

Thoughts are running wild in your mind. You give him one last stroke to his shoulder, placing a longing kiss to his cheek before quietly untangling yourself from him and leaving in absolute silence.

Not just the nest, but the entire Clan as a whole. You leave, hoping that Noa will eventually return to normalcy and find what he needed for a fulfilling life, assuming that you were unable to give him any of it.

The absolute flurry he wakes up in when you're not there. Following your scent around the village. There's a horse missing, provisions are missing, you're missing. He flies off the rails and goes on a massive hunt with himself, soona, anaya and any other ape he can grasp at. You're no where to be seen, your scent dropped off by the river, presumably where you had dived in to clean yourself and get rid of any insight of your smell. you dont want to be followed.

** maybe like five years later? **

you were out foraging with your husband and child - a human whom you met shortly after leaving the clan, never certain of trusting him until you were travelling together for a year. you fell in love, having a child soon after making the choice to reproduce. The summer air was enticing to your skin and you tilt your head back to enjoy it a bit before a blood curdling scream hit your ears.

Your child - screaming at the top of their lungs. you were quick to your feet, same with your husband and went to them, partially behind a few berry bushes.

Apes.

Two of them, from the look of it and you grasp at the gun you had managed to salvage two years ago, your husband going for his arrows. he insisted you keep the gun on you as a means of defense, he was more than able to protect with strength and arrows in most cases.

No, there were three Apes. Your hand slowly comes down as they widened at the appearance of a baby against the shoulder of who you presumed to be the female.

grasping your child in a mirror pose, you pulled them behind you and held the gun up offensively, "We're not here to hurt, just foraging for food."

Silence.

It was deafening as the male huffed out rather aggressively and you felt your arm prickle with anticipation as they drew closer to you. defensively, you slid your child over to your husband who was a few feet behind you and swallowed hard.

your eyes opened wide, your mouth went dry. There... there was no way...

"Noa?" The ape tilted their head in a jilting fashion and stared at you with dead-set green eyes. His lips parted as he stared right back at you, the obvious flood of the past coming back to haunt both of you. Your name fell from his lips. You peer at the female behind him and felt a surge of sadness hit you. It was Soona, and who you presumed to be their child.

You were so happy that he found someone and it was one of his closest friends. you had only wished it to be you instead.

and idk i havent gotten that far yet but it might make for an intriguing series lol if you like the premise, i can for sure write it into an actual fic or maybe two. Also considering it for the customary series lol.

#sorry for typos or whatever i am falling into a migraine haze #em answers #noa #noa x reader #planet of the apes #pota #kingdom of the planet of the apes #kotpota

[ellecdc]

helloo i’m freaking out

i just re-read “surprise! we’re making love” bc dah it’s a masterpiece and i’m obsessed w that fic and “a man with a plan”. (the way u write remus it’s just 🤌🏼FUCKING PERFECT ILYSM) and idk if i dreamt it or if there was a second part to that fic and pls if there was WERE IS IT I CANT FIND IT AND IM FREAKING OUT and if there wasn’t, im not gonna ask u to write one bc i don’t want to be annoying, but could u tell me how there story ends?☺️ i need to know they lived happily ever after in a beautiful cottage with lots of flowers and birds chirping

byeeee!! ilysm you are amazing hope u have a great week!!!💕💕💕💕

hahaha aweeee thank you, I'm so glad you loved it - I really like that fic too

and you must have dreamt it because there isn't a part two! I know how I want it to end but I don't think it would actually make an interesting or engaging fic (it would fall painfully flat in comparison to it's first part)

essentially, I imagine them talking more that night - reader saying to Remus "I'm engaged to be married....." and remus going "I know..............I'm a werewolf" and reader going "I know......"

turns out she was just as invested in him, she just hadn't realized it. but since being top of her class in astronomy (i.e., tracking moon cycles) and noticing peculiarities about Remus following such cycles, she managed to put two and two together.

they do sort of 'date' but it's quiet and soft and timid and maybe perhaps a bit awkward at first - Sirius is sort of against it and says something like "mate, you need to be careful - she comes from another world entirely, and they are not kind to their own let alone anyone else", which sort of pisses Remus off but he understands where he's coming from.

Remus plays a little bit of interference between Avery and reader while at school; showing up and sitting between them if Avery approaches her etc

now it's important to note that in this AU, I do have Voldemort BUT he's not the crazy fuck like he is in canon and it's not a war of sorts, but rather a political campaign and a lot of internal strife within the ministry

like canon, the purebloods/sacred 28 support riddle, with the exception of Crouch sr who agrees with pureblood supremacy but is running for Ministry of Magic himself

but my thought is that they get off the Hogwarts express at platform 9 3/4, Remus stands with his parents and Sirius and James with the Potters.

reader steps off the train with the Rosier twins, Regulus, and Barty and are chatting when the opposite half of the platform grows eerily quiet and readers name is called.

reader et al. look over to see readers parents standing with the Avery's and a very smug looking Avery jr., the Rosier's looking as severe as ever, and the Black's looking at Regulus expectantly.

Crouch sr shows up too, not standing with the other pureblood's but essentially on that side

and the group realizes they need to make a decision - the Rosier's don't feel like going back home to grey walls and apathetic parents who only had children to further their blood line and parade them around at balls, Regulus doesn't want to go back home without his brother to maniacal parents who use Regulus for political gain, and Junior doesn't want to return home to his abusive father who has never felt anything more than disdain for his son anyway.

and reader....well....she's not marrying Avery.

so the five of them shrink their bags, put their belongings into their pockets and they run

they head for the brick wall to cross into the muggle side of the station while dodging curses and hexes being thrown at them from their parents - an unforgivable from Crouch sr which actually finds him in Azkaban in the end

James, Sirius, and Remus find them all hiding in an alleyway in muggle London - the Potter's insist they come to their place, hire lawyers, sue their parents/are emancipated

and Remus ends up bringing reader home to Wales where they live in the Lupin's cottage and she's never been happier

lol

the end

#ask elle #surprise! we're making love #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you

[michael-aftonz]

hello all. i was inspired by a line of dialogue harvey has when u marry him and decided to write a little drabble!

fic name: a doctor's worst nightmare

word count: 1459

pairing: harvey x gn!reader

warnings: hospitals, near death experiences, blasphemy, ooc swearing due to high stress/emotions

genre: angst. don't worry it has a happy ending!

characters: harvey, gn!farmer, abigail (briefly)

fic below the cut! i will also be posting this on ao3!

harvey hummed to himself as he continued to work on his newest model plane. he had been meticulously painting all the tiny details - all the way from the pilot in the cockpit to the silver detailing on the wheels - for the majority of the morning. he was so invested in his project he seemed to miss his spouse calling out that they would return later.

he finally finished his plane and set the delicate model onto a stand to dry. his stomach grumbled and he realized he had been much more invested in his project than he planned and he should probably have a quick snack. harvey trudged toward the farmhouse kitchen and was greeted by a small note which read: “i went to the mines with abby! i’ll be back by dinner, don't worry! love, farmer.”

harvey shook his head. leave it to his adventurous spouse to go into the mines, he thought. he did think it was quite odd that the farmer hadn't returned yet, though. didn’t they say ‘by dinner’? harvey glanced at the grandfather clock - which currently said 6:30 pm - and scratched his head.

before he could debate any further, a frantic knock came from outside. maybe the farmer is back? he thought as he went towards the door and opened it - peering outside. however, he was extremely surprised to see who was there.

“abigail? have you and the farmer finished your mining?” he asked, though he quickly noticed abigail looked much paler than usual.

“oh, harvey,” abigail spoke, her voice breaking in the middle of each syllable, “i'm so sorry.”

“hold on a second,” he paused, confusion washing over his face, “why are you apologizing? did something happen?”

abigail sniffled and harvey noticed that her eyes were bloodshot. she went quiet for a moment before replying, “it's the farmer. we need to go to the clinic right now.”

harvey felt as if the world was spinning around him. he clutched the mermaid pendant he had safely tucked inside his left shirt pocket - he always kept it there so the farmer would be as close to his heart as possible. his breathing went ragged and he had to lean against the door frame for support. of course something happens on the one day he doesn't go into the clinic.

he takes a second to compose himself and his breathing and then spoke with a calmness that felt almost alien, “let me get my things. i'll be right over.”

harvey had acquired an adrenaline-fueled almost super human speed as he grabbed his doctor’s bag and practically ran to the clinic.

his heart nearly sank when he saw the farmer: limp and spread haphazardly across the closest surface - which happened to be the floor. he was used to seeing the farmer with bruises, but never any this badly.

“help me get them into a bed. i need to properly examine them.” he instructed abigail. he didn't wait on a response before crouching down and lifting the farmer by their torso. the two placed the farmer securely onto the nearest hospital bed and harvey remembered the farmer’s note.

“abigail,” he started, turning towards the purple-haired girl, “what exactly happened when you two went into the mines?” he words came out almost accusatory, though he instantly regretted this when he saw the distress on abigail’s face.

abby sniffled again, rubbing her stinging eyes. “well, the farmer offered to help me with sword training..,” she began, speaking almost too softly for harvey to hear. “we started on the lower levels, of course, but i urged them that i was ready to take on a real monster… i.. i guess i wasn't. we encountered a really powerful one and it knocked my sword out of my hand-” she was interrupted by more tears and she recalled the events, “farmer jumped in to save me. they had almost defeated the creature when it exploded. they got caught in the middle of the explosion and got pinned under some rubble. we used all our strength to get them out and they told me to find you.”

abigail continued speaking through the tears - which were now streaming down her cheeks. her voice broke again, “oh, harvey. i'm so.. so sorry. it's all my fault. if only i had been stronger-”

“abigail, this is not your fault,” harvey reassured her. he glanced at his spouse, “if they hadn't been so damn heroic… no. this isn't their fault, either.” he was mainly talking to himself here.

he ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. “i think you should head home. leave this to me, alright? i’ll let you know if i have any updates.” abigail nodded and silently left the clinic.

harvey pulled up a chair and sat next to the hospital bead, his head resting against his palms and his elbows against the railing of the bed.

he sat there for a moment, listening to the heart monitor beeping steadily. he couldn't help but blame himself – if only he had been paying attention when the farmer left. maybe he could've convinced them to stay.

“oh, sweetheart,” harvey whispered, his hand moving to hold his spouse’s hand, “how could something like this happen?”

he had tried everything, yet the farmer’s condition didn't seem to be improving. harvey had spent weeks hunched over the hospital bed - his worry growing every second. he even neglected his own health, often forgetting meals because he didn't want to leave the farmer alone.

one day, something changed. the heart monitor continued to beep as usual before suddenly turning into one straight tone. the farmer was flatlining.

harvey felt his own heart constrict in his chest. the walls of the room felt as if they were closing in. this couldn't be happening. he couldn't lose them, especially after fighting so hard to keep them safe throughout their marriage.

“don't do this to me..,” he pleaded, tears welling up in his eyes. “yoba, you damn bastard! don't do this to me. don't take them away from me,” anger filled his voice and the tears began to stream down his cheeks. the salt burned his eyes, but he didn't seem to care. his calmness washed away. he was a nervous, upset wreck. this was his worst nightmare come true.

he laid his head down on the farmer’s chest - desperately listening and hoping for a heartbeat or the sound of breathing. for the longest time… nothing. not even the shallow in-and-out breaths that he’d grown accustomed to this week. he had almost given up hope before the faintest pulse came back.

harvey held his breath and waited for the pulse to grow stronger. at first nothing seemed to happen and harvey began to lose hope once again. then, harvey felt something press against the side of his face. he opened his eyes and saw the farmer had miraculously moved their hand and was currently cradling his face.

“oh, baby, you're okay,” harvey whispered with intense excitement and relief. he laid his own hand on top of the farmer’s and squeezed much harder than he meant to.

“harvey, you're going to break my fingers,” the farmer said in a matter-of-fact tone - as if they didn't just come back from the brink of death.

“don't ever scare me like that again!” harvey scolded, though he gently released the farmer’s hand. however, he quickly wrapped them in the biggest, bone-crushing hug ever.

the farmer chuckled at harvey’s smothering, though they winced and placed a hand against their still very bruised ribs.

harvey instantly noticed this and loosened his grip. he sat back down and more tears welled up in his eyes. the farmer placed their hand back on his cheek and wiped the tears away with their thumb.

“oh, harv, don't cry..”

“i’m just so happy you're okay. i was so worried the worst would happen.” he spoke, leaning his head into their palm. he closed his eyes and pressed a few kisses to their wrist.

this soft moment lasted for a few minutes before harvey pouted. “you are going to stay on bed rest, okay? no intense farm work and DEFINITELY no more exploring the mines for a while.” he scolded, though he was careful with his instructions.

“okay, doctor,” the farmer teased. they rested their forehead against harvey’s and closed their eyes.

“i'm serious, farmer.”

“i know, baby.”

“please be more careful. for my sake.”

“no promises,” the farmer joked, a wide smile spreading across their cheeks. they pressed a soft kiss against their husband’s lips - greeted by the familiar feeling of harvey’s mustache brushing against their upper lip.

“i knew you'd say that.” harvey shook his head. he brushed their hair behind their ear and gently kissed their forehead, “let’s get you home.”

#stardew abigail #stardew #stardew harvey #sdv harvey #harvey x gn!reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral farmer #harvey #harvey x reader #harvey x farmer #angst with a happy ending #angst #my writing #sdv #sdv writing #stardew drabbles #harvey fanfic #stardew fanfic #stardew writing #ollie's drabbles

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 23 – POST-CA:CW

AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: sheron

The thing I love most about sheron's fics – other than the amazing characterization, fantastic dialogue and pacing – is how most of the emotional journey of these characters happens between the lines. It's a really subtle and beautiful way of writing that I enjoy to no end, especially in their Post-Civil War fics. And I am really impressed by the way they manage to juggle the hurt feelings on all sides without it ever turning into something vicious or mean. All the characters are redeemable and sympathetic, and I adore that.

Here's some of their work that I think you should check out:

Evidence of Things Unsaid

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: G Words: 3,996 Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, First Kiss

Summary: The Avengers (and ex-Avengers) are forced to socialize at a PR event. Why is there never a monster around to attack New York when you need one?

Reasons why I love it: The team dynamics in this one are absolutely flawless. I love how potent the still lingering hurt is, and how it manifests itself in each interaction. And of course, the Stony is immaculate – I especially love the glass breaking scene, it feels so symbolic and true to their characters. I love this fic to death, and I bet you will too!

Better in Time

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: G Words: 6,498 Tags: Presumed Dead, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Reconciliation

Summary: Tony doesn't call until there's live footage of Steve going down in a hail of bullets. Steve misses his call.

Reasons why I love it: Yes, yes, yes, YES, everything about this is yes! Near death experiences bringing MCU Avengers closer together since 2012, I love it! sheron writes them so well, I will never not gush about their characterizations, and this one especially just makes me so happy. I love this fic, and you should definitely read it, if you haven't already!

your eyes have their silence

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: G Words: 2,780 Tags: Established Relationship, Trust Issues, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: There's been a break-in at his private workshop. "The access was through the authorization code of Captain Rogers," FRIDAY says and Tony can't breathe.

Reasons why I love it: Aaaah, this one hurts so good! I can absolutely see how Tony arrived at his conclusion, and it's so painful to see how much it hurts both of them when he asks the question. The angst is superb, and the moment of forgiveness is made all the sweeter for it. I love this one so much, you absolutely have to read it!

North (Northwest to Nowhere Remix)

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: G Words: 7,100 Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Slash, Hurt Steve

Summary: Steve and Tony end up lost in the middle of nowhere, and Steve is struggling with an injury he received during their escape from AIM. What else could possibly go wrong? Unsurprisingly: a lot.

Reasons why I love it: Tony has fallen so deeply for Steve that he can't get up, and Steve is a self-sacrifing idiot, but what else is new? I love the hurt/comfort in this, and Steve and Tony being protective of each other is always lovely to see, especially when it's as well-written as this. I love this fic, and I bet you will too!

Exit Wounds (The No Exit Remix)

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: G Words: 2,375 Tags: Hurt Steve, Protective Tony, Hopeful Ending

Summary: Tony gets trapped together with Steve in a collapsed HYDRA facility, which makes it hard to avoid him.

Reasons why I love it: This fic gives me that really satisfying feeling of finally getting at an itch that's been bothering you for hours. It feels long-overdue, and I love the way sheron characterizes them here, both still so hurt and yet willing to overcome their differences. This fic is wonderful, and I highly recommend it, if you haven't read it already!

#marvel #stony #fanfic #a year in fanfic recs #fic rec #fanfic rec #fanfiction recommendation #ca:cw