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the-queen-of-hell-666 · 25 days ago

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Summer Days

Kinktober 2024 - Day 20

Pairing: Young!Logan Howlett (X1) x Professor!Mutant!Fem!Reader

Kink: Edging

Word Count: 1700+

Summary: Logan hasn't made the first move, so you decide to.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal sex, voyeurism, marking, creampie, multiple positions, slight d/s dynamics, edging), fluff, saps in love, soft!Logan, confindent!reader

a/n: This one got away from me because I didn't have a plan going into it, but I hope it all makes sense! I hope you enjoy it!

Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Logan couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, you invaded his every sense, everywhere he went in the mansion, he saw you, smelled you, heard your voice. You were driving him crazy. You had helped Ororo and Scott rescue him and Rogue from Sabertooth and since then, he couldn’t keep his eyes to himself. You were a professor, a very put together woman. Your hair always pulled up in a tidy hair do, always wearing professional clothes, the first time he saw you half asleep and in your pajamas was when Charles had their Sunday breakfasts. It was your only day to sleep in and you didn’t feel like getting all put together. He knew he was in love when he watched you eat your breakfast with Rogue and Ororo, a big smile on your face as you laughed through a bite of toast at something Rogue had said, and he was screwed.

In the middle of summer, the New York heat was getting to everyone. Logan was in his white beater and ripped jeans, small beads of sweat rolling down his neck as he took a walk around the campus. He stumbled upon you, doing yoga by the pond, you were in skin tight biker shorts, a white flowy tank top, and he could see your rainbow sports bra through the light fabric. Your hair was tied up in a tight bun as you stretched on your X-Men branded yoga mat. You had a radio next to you, playing classic rock as you moved into your next position. Logan thought he had died and this was his heaven, you looked like a goddess in the midday sun, sweat dripping down your neck and in between your breasts.

You looked up and locked eyes with Logan and you gave him a bright smile, brighter than the sun itself in his opinion. “Hey, Logan! How are you?” You asked as you sat in a butterfly position, stretching out your hips.

Logan thanked that the heat had his cheeks already flushing so you couldn’t see him blush, “M’good. Just taking a walk.” He grunted and gave you a small grin.

You smiled wider and stood up and dusted off your thighs, “Wanna join me? I can go grab another mat?” You offered with a gesture of your hand to the cart over by the basketball court.

He shook his head, “Nah. If I try any of those poses, I’ll hurt myself.” He chuckled and you giggled softly at the thought and nodded.

“Okay, well I’ll be out here again tomorrow if you wanna give it a try. Right now, a shower and a glass of wine are calling my name.” You smiled and picked up your mat, bending down in front of Logan and he had to keep himself from drooling. You rolled up the mat and patted Logan on the shoulder, “I’ll see you later, Lo.” You said before you walked away, setting the mat on the dirty cart for cleaning before making your way to your room.

Your room was in the same hall as Logan’s and you two shared a bathroom. You weren’t stupid, you saw the looks Logan gave you, how his nostrils flared when you walked past, how his fists clenched if you did anything relatively sexual, you liked the game but you were getting tired of it. You stepped into the bathroom and noticed that the door to his room was slightly ajar and you got a naughty thought and decided to leave it open. You turned on the water and let it heat up while you undressed and stepped into the water. You let out a soft sigh as the water cascaded down your body, making your muscles loosen and your body relax.

A few minutes into your shower, you heard Logan’s room door open then shut as he walked into his bathroom. You smirked softly as you heard him walk to the bathroom door but stop before the threshold, he saw you. You heard his soft gasp and gulp as he peered into the bathroom. You bit your lip and grabbed your body wash and your loofah. You squirted a bit onto the sponge and started lathering your bare body, making sure to linger on your ass and breasts, knowing that Logan was watching. You giggled to yourself before washing the soap off and you turned off the water once free of suds. You heard Logan’s footsteps retreat and you stepped out of the shower and grabbed your towel from the hook and you dried yourself off. You wrapped it around your body and walked to the door that led to Logan’s room and you knocked softly on the door. You heard a muffled reply and you nudged the door open to see Logan smoking a cigar by the open window and you smirked and bit your lip.

“You know Charles doesn’t like you smoking in the house.” You fake pouted and you sauntered over to him, making gulp audibly. You took the cigar from him and took a puff of your own and let the smoke willow out of your mouth. “But then again, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” You shrugged before you slammed your lips against his.

His eyes went wide before he leaned into it and his large hands tangled in your hair and tugged you closer. You moaned softly at the slight pain of his fingers tugging on your hair. You slid into his lap, letting the towel fall away but then you were very aware of being next to an open window. You pulled away and he whined as you did so, “Lo, take me away from the window. I only want you to see me, not the whole courtyard.” You huffed softly and he chuckled softly and nodded before scooping you up without hesitation.

He carried you to the bed and laid you out on the sheets, your bare body completely revealed to his hungry eyes. “Fuck, you are beautiful. So pretty.” He groaned as his large hands grazed over your mounds and down your body to your core and down your thighs.

“Mm, I knew you were watching me.” You purred as he spread your thighs for him, revealing your dripping cunt to his eyes. He looked up at your face with hesitation written across his face, “Don’t, mm, worry. I enjoyed it.” You smirked and reached down to take his hands into your palms and pulled one up to your breasts and the other to your cunt. “Made me feel all sorts of turned on.”

He groaned as his finger stroked through your wet folds, “So warm and wet. All for me, bub?” He asked with a smirk teasing his lips.

You let out a moan and nodded as his middle finger circled your bud softly. “Of course. All for you.” You hummed and you grinded your hips down against his hand. His other hand groped and squeezed your breast in his large palm. You let yourself enjoy his teasing and toying of your body before you slid your legs around his waist and flipped you two over. Logan let out a small huff of surprise and you giggled and leaned up to kiss him passionately. His hands gripped your hips tight and pulled you down to grind against his jean clad bulge.

“You’re making a mess, bub.” He groaned as the spot on his jeans grew dark with your arousal. You bit your lip before reaching down and stripping off his shirt before moving down to his jeans, as your lips attached themselves to his neck. He groaned as you bit and sucked on his salty skin, and he helped you take off his jeans and boxers in one movement. You bit your lip as his hard and leaking cock sprung up to hit his taut stomach.

“You’re so fucking big, Lo.” You purred as you wrapped your hand around his shaft, your small hand making his cock look huge, you couldn’t even wrap your hand all the way around the base.

He gave you a cocky smirk, “You’ll give me a complex.” He remarked and you rolled your eyes.

“You already have one.” You giggled and you kissed him passionately and his hands moved down to lift you up enough so you could sink down on his cock. You let out a shaky moan as he filled you up completely, your clit nuzzled against the coarse hair at the base of his cock. You panted and moaned against his lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “F-fuck, ah, Logan. You’re so big. M’so full.” You whined and he leaned down to kiss and suck on your sensitive neck, making pleasure course through your veins. You felt your cunt pulse and clench as your hips started moving up and down on his cock, your thighs shaking with each movement. Logan gripped your hips and helped you up and down on his cock slowly, him grunting as your walls squeezed his sensitive shaft.

You could feel the knot already tightening with each thrust and Logan knew it, “Not yet, bub. Wanna cum with you, but not ready for this to end.” He smirked as he rolled you two over with you on your side and him behind you and he hiked your leg over his arm as he slipped his cock back into you. You moaned at the new position which made his cock feel bigger than it was.

“M’close, Lo. You feel so good.” You whimpered as you felt yourself being pushed to the edge but then Logan slowed down, taking you back from the edge. You whined and you turned your head to nuzzle into his neck and bite and suck on his tan skin, “Please, please.” You moaned with each thrust.

He grunted and groaned as his eyes squeezed shut, trying to keep himself from cumming, not wanting this to end too quickly and his hands squeezed any expanse of skin he could get to. “Just a little longer. Want to savor this. Don’t want this to end.” He grunted and small tears welled in your eyes at the overwhelming pleasure that coursed through you. You didn’t want this to end anyway, you wanted Logan forever.

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angel-eyes05 · 4 months ago

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only until midnight

pairing: prince charming!opla!sanji x cinderella!afab!reader

summary: after reaching your limits with your life at home, your outlook on life changes after meeting a certain stranger in the woods. your paths are destined to meet again at the king's ball later this week, but he seems to be more than what meets the eye. lucky for him, you are too.

warnings/info: nsfw (thats later in the fic though, so i'll mark it off when to stop reading, and when you can continue if you still want to read. the smut isn't integral to the plot i was just feeling horny lmao), THIS IS AN AU!!! if you dont like that this fic isnt for you lol, cinderella au, slight angst, lots of fluff after the smut, smoking (pipe cause its like the 1700s), first time/virgin reader, unprotected piv (wrap it up guys), reader's been through shit, no use of y/n (it kinda works cause he's not supposed to use her name and shit lol)

word count: 6.3k words

notes: i got this idea cause im playing grace in rodgers and hammerstein's cinderella and i was like ykw this would be really cute with sanji. i picked live action sanji because of 1) im more attracted to him than animated sanji lol 2) the british accent feels right for a prince 3) i dont know enough about him post time skip to like feel good enough to write for him (im only on sabaody). also ik the obvious look here is just to make the kingdom germa kingdom but again i don't know enough about post time skip one piece to write about it in confidence so im doing just a random kingdom in an au. the kingdom isnt even the main focus of this so it doesnt matter!!! also i didn't proofread, i didnt have the energy i finished this at 1 am my bad chat. lol enjoy

dividers by: @cafekitsune

It seemed as if the dirt was superglued down to the floor. As a part of your daily chores, your stepmother had ordered you to scrub the entire house floor until it was spotless. This one speck of dirt had decided to be particularly devilish with you and your consistent scrubbing. You let up from the brush, leaned back, and wiped the sweat brewing on your forehead. Some days were harder than others. The past eight years had been more of the same ordeal. Your father had married particularly quick after your mother’s illness took her, always leaving a sour taste in your mouth when you would linger on the thought. The woman had an interesting demeanor to her. She was sweet yes, but always with a twinge of condescension. She brought with her two young daughters, about your age. They were less deceptive of their malice, teasing you whenever your parents weren't looking. It wasn’t picture perfect, but then nothing was now without your mother. This was just your new reality, and you accepted it with grace and humility.

Then it happened. News came back to your house about a carriage crash involving your father. The image of your stepmother crumbling to the floor as the news was delivered was burned into your mind. Your family had to adapt fast, the house was in a vulnerable position now without a patriarch. The house staff was fired due to lack of funds, materials downsized, and tensions were thick with your new family. Drowning in grief and head of house duties, your stepmother never found the time to clean, and your stepsisters? Well let’s say they weren’t involved in that conversation from the start. You found yourself naturally taking the duty up on yourself. First it was just cleaning the dishes. It slowly grew as time went on, you had gone from daughter to maid. When your stepsisters would make your job harder for you, you would attempt to reach out to your stepmother for a glimpse of hope. Her beginning response was just ignorance, but as your chores became larger and larger, she turned into gas to fuel her daughters’ fire. As if matters couldn’t get any worse, your name was soon taken, along with your dignity and freedom. Bored today, your stepsisters found themselves brewing a new nickname for you.

“I got it!” The short one shrieked from the cushioned chair. The other quickly turned face her in excitement. “Cinderella!” There was silence for a bit, as taller one looked at her confusedly. The short one groaned. “Because shes always covered in soot and cinder from the fireplace.” The tall one took a second to think about it. “That’s too confusing. Plus it doesn’t have anything to do with her name! It has no ring to it.” “Well I’d like to see you come up with something better!” The short one retorted. “You don’t think I can do it?!” The tall one stood up in anger. You tried to block them out as you mopped the floor of the room around them.

“Watch it! You’re going to get my shoes wet with your dirty mop water!” The short one shouted. Blocked them out too much now. “My mistake,” you said, dully. “Ugh, you would think she’s a zombie or something,” the tall one groaned. You could tell your day was about to get worse when you heard the click of your stepmother’s heels entering the lounge room. “What’s all this ruckus you girls are making?” She asked, annoyed. “Oh mother I’ve got it! I’ve got her nickname!” The short one bounded out of her seat. “Don’t listen mother, it’s dreadful there’s no melody to it!” The tall one intruded. They began throwing hands at each other and yanking on the other’s hair. This was almost a daily occurrence when they began arguing. The shrieks had dulled your ears. Almost on routine, your stepmother raised her hand to cease the show. “Continue my dear,” she gestured to the short one. “We should call her Cinderella! Because she’s always around the fireplace!”

The fire brewing in your stomach grew to a burst. “Stepmother please, they’ll only stop if you tell them so!” You exploded. The stepsisters gave an almost comedic gasp at your rare outburst. All your stepmother needed to do to get you back to your work was give you once glance worth daggers. She cleared her throat after the ordeal. “Girls, please try to keep the bickering to a minimum if you can, I’m trying to work out arrangements to the ball later this week.” Your sisters immediately started cheesing and cheering after hearing the news.

You had almost forgotten about the event. The king was growing old of age, and with all his daughters married off to other kingdoms, his last hope for an heir was his unmarried son. The prince, the youngest of the king’s children, and the only son: Prince Sanji Vinsmoke. This ball was open to all the women in the kingdom. A playground for him to pick his new bride. Everyone and anyone had the chance, so of course the entire kingdom had been gushing about it over the past month.

Why bother though, you were most likely just going to be stuck in the house again that night. Your stepmother always found new ways to keep you busy on ball nights. “If you two keep quiet for the rest of the day, I will ensure you have the most beautiful dresses among the crowd,” your stepmother promised her daughters. They cheered and jumped into their mother for a hug. You couldn’t help but turn away from the sight, an ache growing in your heart, longing for your own mother back. “As for you,” she turned to face you and look you straight in the eye. “I need you to go into the market immediately and pick up some silk and lace to give to the seamstress for your sisters.” You nodded compliantly. “Yes stepmother,” you managed to speak. “No. It’s ‘Yes Ma’am.’ We’ve discussed this. Is that understood?” You nodded again. “Yes ma’am.” The woman smirked. “Thank you, Cinderella.” She exited the room, her daughters snickering to themselves and following her out.

You dropped the broom by instinct, hands too shaky to keep it steady in them. You covered your mouth to conceal the incoming sobs. You moved swiftly through the house out to the back where the horses were rounded up. You ripped a basket off the shelf outside, flopped on top of the horse, and whisked off into the backyard woods. You couldn’t help but let out your sobs. It was too much for you to take. You were trapped and things were only getting worse. You pulled on the reins of the horse to slow down. Once it slowed to a halt, you dismounted and tied the reins to a nearby tree branch. You walked to the center of the woods, and let out an ear piercing scream. You screamed until your vocal cords began to itch. It was the only way to let out your anger. You couldn’t explode on your family. The results of that were already clear. You didn’t want to explode on yourself. So the woods had become your sanctuary. A place to let it all out. After the noise could no longer physically leave your mouth, you flopped down to the floor and pulled your knees into your chest. Sobs left your mouth as tears flooded your eyes and pooled down your face. You just wanted your old life back. Your parents. Your freedom and dignity. Your name.

The rustling of leaves nearby woke you from your breakdown. You lifted your head from your knees to find a man approaching from about 30 feet away. You immediately shuffled to your feet and looked at him bewildered. You picked up a sharp rock from the floor in self defense. “Woah, woah, woah! I mean you no harm I swear! I was just passing through!” The man defended, putting his hands up by his chest. The two of you circled each other at a safe distance for a little bit. He didn’t seem to mean any harm, dressed as a simple farm boy. His golden hair was too long, his bangs covering his left eye. He was fairly tall and skinny too, just enough meat on his bones, especially near his toned legs. What stuck out to you the most was the kindness in his eyes. Well, the kindness mixed with current fear. You were so enwrapped with observing him, you forgot you were currently threatening his life. You dropped the rock to the floor, and walked over to sit on a fallen tree log. He watched you for a little bit before you signaled him over to sit next to you.

He wandered along over and took a seat down next to you, still keeping a safe distance though. “I was out riding when I heard a scream, so I decided to follow it. It went on for a while, so it was easy to track. I thought someone was in trouble,” he explained. “I’m fine,” you shot out. “The red in your eyes and your horse throat suggests differently.” You sighed and cupped your face in your hands. It stayed silent for a bit. Eventually, the man went into his pocket and pulled out a box of matches and a pipe filled with tobacco. Your head lifted up from your hands to watch his process. He struck the match and lit the tobacco, waited for the smoke to form, and then sucked it out of the stem. His eyes closed as he blew out a beautiful puff of smoke. He then turned to look at you and held out the pipe. With some reluctance, you took the pipe from his hands, held the stem up to your lips, and sucked out the smoke. Of course holding it in for too long, you coughed the lingering smoke out.

The man smiled and scooted in closer to you to hold your back as you coughed and took the pipe away. Once your lungs calmed down, you turned to look at him as he was admiring you. “Better?” He kindly asked. You nodded softly. He smiled and took another inhale of smoke before putting the pipe away. “And what would such a beautiful maiden you be doing out in the woods all by herself?” He inquired. You smiled at how cheesy the compliment was. “I could ask the same thing about you.” You both chuckled. He was the first one to explain. “Well I was just out for an afternoon ride, when your shriek took me off my path. And now, here we are I guess.” You nodded slightly and turned to look at the floor.

“You still haven’t told me why you were screaming,” he mentioned. You sighed. “Just that sort of day I guess.” He nodded. “It just…gets too much sometimes.” As you felt your eyes welling up again, you also felt his hand rest upon yours. You turned to look up at him, a soft smile resting on his face. Naturally, your head fell onto his shoulder, and his head onto yours. You two spent a while like this. “Well, a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be using all her voice up like that. Whoever it was that hurt you like this doesn’t deserve that much energy from you,” he consoled. You couldn’t help but blush a little bit. You had no idea who he was, yet you felt so comfortable with him. “You know, you still haven’t told me your name,” he said, lifting up his head. You lifted up yours as well to look at him. “Oh, um I-.”

You were cut off by the sound of trumpets coming increasingly closer. “Shit,” he said under his breath, scampering up off the log. You looked up at him confused. Was he in trouble with the palace law? Before you could ask any questions, he asked “Are you attending the King’s Ball?” Damn it. You would become a laughing stock to him, most likely being the only girl in the kingdom not attending. “Can’t we just see each other in the market tomorrow?” you suggested. “No, it has to be there,” he shot out. You thought to yourself for a second. Maybe with some extra chores, your stepmother would finally allow you. With hesitation, you finally answered. “Yes.” He smiled to himself. “I hope I shall see you there.” He seemed to move back towards you again, but halted as the trumpets began to blare again. “Have a good day madame!” he exclaimed, bolting off into the distant forest. You stood up as you watched the mystery man escape from your life.

The woods seemed to disappear around you as your heart fluttered. The first person to show you kindness in eight years and you didn’t even catch his name. Stupid. You were snapped out of your daze when the sound of approaching horse hoofs stopped behind you. Three palace soldiers on horses stood behind you as you turned and curtseyed to greet them. “Good afternoon men,” you greeted. They bowed their heads in return as a sign of respect. The Captain of the Royal Guard was the one in very front. “Pardon the intrusion, but we’ve been in search of His Royal Highness. He seemed to slip away from his fencing lessons earlier this afternoon and the king has been worried sick. Villagers said they saw him passing by through the woods just a moment ago. Have you seen him?”

Oh my god. It occurred to you that you had been so cooped up in the house you had no idea what the prince looked like. That couldn’t possibly had been him back there though. He would have no business around some low life like you. “Do you possibly have a picture of His Highness?” You asked. One of the guards in the back searches through his satchel and pulled out a portrait of the Royal Family. You walked up and took it, examining the prince’s face. You would’ve thrown up right there and then if it weren't for the fact you were trying to help him escape. But those eyebrows in that photo were unmistakable. It was him alright. You just smoked off of the prince’s pipe. “No, I do apologize, but I don’t recognize him,” you said. The captain simply nodded. “Thank you ma’am. As you were.” He bowed his head as him and his men rode off.

Shock pulled your heart from out of your chest and into your throat. You could hardly believe yourself. That must have been why he was so insistent on you attending the ball. But why? What could he possibly see in someone like you?

There was only one way to figure out. You went over to your horse, untied him from the tree, and rode off into town, with a new goal. You had to attend that ball.

The week had practically zoomed by. You had the house to yourself most days, your stepmother and stepsisters always out at the market place trying on dresses for the ball. This time was mostly spent either practicing dancing, or sewing up your own dress. There wasn’t much material in the house, and god forbid you take one of the dresses from your sisters, so you took scraps of fabric from your mother’s dresses and pieces of fabric in drawers around the house to make your own. It took about the rest of the week to make, spending laborious hours towards its construction. The final product was a pink gown. It wasn’t nearly nice as your stepsisters’ gowns, but it would suffice for the evening.

The night came and your stepmother and sisters could be heard shuffling downstairs preparing to get into the carriage. “Wait! I’m coming too!” you shouted down to them. They turned around and looked at you in shock. “Mother you can’t let her!” the tall stepsister shouted. “Yes it’s too humiliating to be seen with her! You can smell the soot from a mile away!” her sister rebounded. Their mother held their hand up, shushing them up immediately. “Now girls, if she would like to join us, that’s well up to her to decide. She’s a grown woman just like the two of you.” The girls looked at her in shock. Your eyes glimmered in hope. It was finally working, all your hard work had finally paid off. Your stepmother smiled at you. Something felt off though. Her eyes had that glint of malice in them. That glint whenever she was about to do something truly horrible.

“Now Cinderella, where did you get this dress from?” she inquired. “Oh, I used materials from my mother’s dresses and some fabric around the house,” you hesitated to reply. “Hm.” She stared at you, circled you like a shark for a moment. “Darling, come here.” The short one stood next to her mother, looking up at you. “Isn’t her dress lovely?” the woman asked. Your stepsister rolled her eyes a bit. “Yes mother,” she groaned out. “You can really see the attention to detail.” She traced her finger along one of your chiffon sleeves. “Like these sleeves. This beautiful pink fabric. Darling, don’t you have a fabric like this in your closet?” Your heart dropped. You could see where this was going fast. Your sister took a moment to observe the sleeve. She gasped. “You little witch, I bought this fabric its mine!” She ripped both sleeves off your dress. All you could do was stand there, mouth agape and watching in horror. The tall one walked up next. “And these pearls were in my drawer!” She ripped them off your neck.

Within the next 30 seconds, your sisters found some excuse to tear of each piece of fabric off your dress. You tried desperately to get them off you, but it was no use. Through the chaos, you could see your stepmother smirking by the door. Your eyes welled up with water as you could do nothing but watch. “Girls, girls!” your stepmother called out. “That’s quite enough!” The girls stopped, hair ratted, looking at what they had done to you. The tall one was smiling. The short one had the slightest bit of remorse in her eye. But it disappeared as soon as they collected themselves and walked out the door to the carriage. Their mother was about to follow them out the door. Before, she stopped. “Just as I said. Going to the ball is up to you. You’ll just have to decide if you want to go with a dress or not.” You couldn’t even say a word to her. “Goodnight, my dear.” She closed the door.

The silence of the foyer was choking you. You mindlessly shuffled to the backyard. Disassociated beyond belief, you took a seat on a bench outside. The tears came out naturally, without you even making a sound. It was all gone. The chance at a normal life. Just go to outside and feel like a human being for the night. To see him again. He wasn’t even at the front of your mind for once. You just wanted to curl up and disappear.

Out of the corner of your eye, a silver glimmer could be seen on the other side of the yard. You wiped your eyes and looked up to see a tall woman, in a beautiful white ballgown, a glowing wand in her hand, and..were those wings? You must be hallucinating, theres no way. Still being dissociated during the ordeal. The woman explained she was your Fairy Godmother, and that she could send you to the ball. She created a carriage out of one of the pumpkins in the garden, coachmen and horses out of the scuttering mice, and a magical light blue ballgown for you out of thin air. The finishing touch were a pair of shimmering glass slippers. You couldn’t believe your eyes. The woman explained the details of the spell. “While the spell lasts, no one at the ball will recognize you. This will give you anonymity.” That was a relief. You were worried over your step family. Prince Sanji probably wouldn’t either. You didn’t mind though. This was just an opportunity to get out there. “The spell will also wear off by midnight. That means all of this is gone by 12:01,” she continued. You accepted the terms, and next thing you know, you were off to the ball in your pumpkin.

As you stepped out of the carriage and onto the stairs for the castle, you felt like a little girl. Living out your dream as a princess. It was too good to be true. The other girls with their husbands walked gracefully up the stairs. You seemed to have gotten there a little late, everyone in the ballroom already. You gathered your courage, and your dress, and made your way up the stairs and into the castle. The beautiful golden accents and stone pillars were a marvel for the eye. The orchestra playing was more beautiful than you could ever imagine.

As you scouted the room, you could see the row of women lined up to greet His Highness. Sanji sat bored, more cleaned up from the last time you saw him and in a white coat with gold accents, and red dress pants. His hair still covered his eye, and you could see the king swatting at him to tuck it away. Embarrassingly, you caught yourself staring at him from up upon the balcony. Get a grip. It was stupid to spend your time fantasizing over a prince. He wouldn’t even remember who you were. But your heart couldn’t help but skip a beat when you made split second eye contact with him. Before you could see him go back for a second glance, you had already made your way to wander about the rest of the palace.

Ironically, you found yourself too nervous to dance with the other guests. You instead spent your time admiring the architecture of the castle. The grand piano in the center of one of the lounge room caught your attention. Your mother had taught you how to play when you were young, and wanting to see how well you remembered, you pulled out one of the sheets of music and began to play. Music filled the room as you became so wrapped in the passion of playing. It seemed as if hours had gone by when it was only mere seconds.

“No one’s played that old thing in years,” a familiar voice spoke. You could tell it was Sanji before even needing to turn around. You immediately ceased playing and jolted up from your seat. “Oh, I do apologize!” you shot out, frazzled.. “No, no, I’m sorry for startling you, my lady!” he interjected, walking closer to you and raising his hands up in defense. “I was just admiring the piano, Your Highness.” Remember you forgot to address him properly, you curtsey, your big dress laying on the floor, and lower you chin.

You hear his footsteps move towards you, then feel his finger as it rests underneath your chin and pull it up to face him. “Indeed.” You feel his hot breath on your face as your stomach swarms with butterflies. He’s closer to you than he intended to be. He looks at you with comforting eyes and a familiarity. That wasn’t possible though, the Fairy Godmother said the spell forbade anyone from recognizing you. You couldn’t help but wonder though what he was thinking right about now. All you could think about was how beautiful his lips looked right about now, spending moments to stare at them, as he did yours. Before anything can get too messy, Sanji clears his throat and steps away. “You played beautifully.” “Thank you, Your Highness.” “Please, call me Sanji, Your Highness is too formal.” You smiled at his suggestion.

“Do you know how to play it?” you asked him, trying to break the tension. “My father tried to get me lessons, but I had a hard time paying attention,” he said as he took a seat down on the piano bench. “I can try though.” He stretched his fingers and begun to play the melody on the sheet of paper. You took a few steps back and rested your head on the base of the piano, watching him hypnotically while he played. The was his fingers graced the keys was mesmerizing to the plain eye. Once he finished, he smiled and look up at you. “You’re blushing, my lady,” he teased. You immediately snapped out of your daze, lifted your head and cleared your throat. “Oh, my apologies.” “It’s quite alright.” Sanji looked out behind the door and noticed the music being played in the ballroom. He then bowed, reaching out his hand to you. “Would you give me the honor of joining me on the dance floor?” Your blush grew even hotter. “Oh, I’m afraid I’m not much of a dancer.” He lifted up, and took your hand in his. “Well then, I suppose we will just make the rest of the castle our ballroom.” You stared at him confused. “We can’t have anyone else see you fumbling on your feet, can we?” You both giggled childishly as he took your waist and you rested your hand on his shoulder.

Sanji’s feet seemed to glide across the floor as he took you into a dance. You tried to match his movements, but your feet couldn’t help but stumble as you twirled along the floor. Your breath got slightly heavier as your embarrassment grew. “Are you alright, my dear?” Sanji asked with concern. “I’m sorry, I’m not very well versed with this dance,” you replied. Sanji smiled. “I guess I’ll just have to teach you.” He began to call out the movements you needed to make for the dance. “Left foot to the right, right foot forward…and twirl,” and so on and so forth. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see how hypnotically his eyes were watching you as you twirled, eyes low and tracing your figure. “See, now you’re getting it sweetheart,” he said, voice deep and low, putting butterflies in your stomach. The two of you continued to dance throughout the halls of the castle, eventually making your way to the balcony you had spotted him the first time.

It had taken a bit to remember, but it suddenly struck that you were dancing with the prince. This thought was brought back to you when you noticed every guest at the party staring at you and Sanji up on the balcony. “Sanji?” you whispered. He hummed low in response. “Everyone’s looking at you.” He chuckled under his breath. “Trust me my dear, I’m not the one they’re looking at.” You couldn’t help but blush. As you scanned the crowd, you spotted your stepmother and stepsisters. The look of jealousy in their eyes couldn’t help but make you smile. “We should go somewhere,” Sanji brought up. “Where?” you asked confused. “Away from here.” “But what about your guests?” Sanji smirked an evil look as he put his mouth just up to your ear. “I don’t think they’ll mind darling.” The butterflies were back.

It felt as if the two of you had been dancing for hours. You had no idea what time it was, or even where in the castle you were. All you cared about was being here with him. Little girls always dream about finding their prince. They never expect it to happen when they grow up. But here you were. Swaying on the outside terrace of the castle in the moonlight. Your head rested up against his shoulder, him looking down at you, as if nothing else mattered. You and your prince. Without another word needing to be said, Sanji straightened up, took your hand, and led you into the the darkness of the yard. The two of you came across a lone gazebo in a field of tall oak trees, lit only by the moonlight and a single candle lamp. After leading you inside, Sanji shut the glass door and lit a second candle in the gazebo with a nearby match. You took a seat on the bench wrapped around the building, flattening out your massive dress as it poofed up.

Sanji walked over next to you and took a seat, smoothing your face with his thumb. He gazed into your eyes as you smiled lovingly towards him. “My dear, may I ask you something.” You nodded softly, eyes slightly closed. “Where did you manage to get this beautiful gown.” Shit. You didn’t know what to tell him. He would never believe you if you told him the truth, you’d look like a fool. “One of the tailors at the marketplace,” you made up. He hummed and moved in closer to you. Your heart started pounding.

“I wasn’t aware your family could afford such fine fabrics. With the clothes you were wearing in the woods and such.” Your heart froze. “How did you know?” you stuttered out. It couldn’t be, there was no way. The Fairy said this was part of the spell, how could he possibly know? “I could never forget a face as beautiful as yours,” the words falling off of his tongue like honey. Before you had the time to comprehend what he said or how he could know it was you, his lips had interlocked with yours. They must have been laced with something, the way you simply seemed to melt into his touch.

His hand wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer into him. Your hands found their way into his hair, entangling fingers between the locks. The kiss was long, sensual, as Sanji explored your mouth for the first time. All you could do was let him take the lead, your hands tracing down his neck, humming as his tongue slipped into your mouth. In a swift motion, overtaking your dress with him, he slides you on top of his lap, where his aching erection becomes noticeable incredibly quick. You could feel him throbbing, begging, beneath you. His hand fumbled down the poof of your tulle skirt, and up your bare legs as he went to feel your ass.

As his hands went up, his mouth went down, leaving wet, sloppy kisses along your neck, sucking and marking as he went. You couldn’t help but make noise as he played with your ass like putty and sucked the essence out of your skin. “Oh could this really be happening to me,” you lowly moaned out. You could feel Sanji smiling against your neck, grabbing your ass harder in response. You could feel his cock growing bigger and his breath getting more frantic by the second. He suddenly moved his hands out of your dress, and separated his mouth from your neck, leaving a trail of saliva.

“May I?” he asked, desperation in his eyes. You froze up a little bit. “I’ve never done it before,” you warned. He paused for a moment, then nodded gently. “It’s okay, I’ll go easy.” You thought about it for a moment, then gave him a nod. With this, he effortlessly lifted you up in his arms and carried you to the gazebo floor. He laid you down gently on your back, then leaned back and unlatched his belt. He pulled his pants down ever so slightly, allowing just enough room for his cock to spring up in an almost comedic fashion. Sanji then pushed the fabric of your dress to the side as he searched for your underwear, getting closer to you.

You see him come and lean over you, kissing the top of your slightly exposed breast as he guides his tip across your hole with his hand. He had barely inserted himself into you and you were already mewling like a wild animal. You only got louder as more of his shaft entered your dripping cunt. Your fingers dug into his back as he braced and let out a few groans of his own. “God you’re so tight…” he groaned. Once he was finally inside of you he began to slowly rock back and forth, sending waves from your cunt to your brain.

His mouth moved back to yours as he absorbed all of your moans as his pace picked up. “So lucky I ran into the woods that day,” he gasped out between kisses and thrusts. “Your pussy’s so good. Molding perfectly to my cock.” You couldn’t even fully process what he was saying, so enwrapped in the experience at hand. You were sent into further delirium as he picked up the pace even more. Desperate for more of you, Sanji hiked up your leg onto his shoulder to get even deeper into your pussy. The bliss was overwhelming. “Go harder Sanji,” you managed to moan out. “I can take you.” Sanji couldn’t help but chuckle, but he still accepted your request, shoving more of himself into you as he slammed his tip into your g-spot. Your hand shot out to the side, grabbing at nothing but the concrete floor. Your back arched and hips buckled. This man had you at full disposal and you hadn’t even known him for a day. “Best pussy I’ve ever had,” he grunted. “Want to keep you with me forever.” As he picked his pace up again, you could feel something brewing in your lower stomach, no idea what this feeling was, but knowing it was coming fast. “S-Sanji, something’s happening,” you moaned out. He smiled and kissed your lips sloppily, like it was the last time he would. “I know my darling, just keep going for me.”

The sounds of your ass cheeks hitting across the floor, your moans and his groans mixing into each other’s mouths, the dim lit gazebo, everything felt straight out of a porno. Your hips began to buck further as the heat continued to grow. You could tell the same thing was happening to Sanji too, his thrusts getting sloppier by the second. With the last final thrusts of his converging into your g-spot, the white heat finally rushed up the rest of your body as you experienced your first time of pure bliss and ecstasy. Your moans turned into mewls as your hand ripped at your dress for any sort of stability. As the orgasm died down, you felt Sanji’s aching cock slip out of you, as he turned away and finished on his own.

A sort of numbness scattered across your body. The experience left you exhausted, barely noticing Sanji crawling up and laying down next to you as he cleaned himself with a handkerchief and redid his pants. He planted soft, gentle kisses into your neck as he fixed you up and brought your dress back down to cover your legs. “Oh my darling you did so good,” he praised you. You looked at him, pure, unadulterated love in your eyes. “Thank you…for giving me this,” you choked out. His lips laced into yours as he hugged your hip. “I would give you all my love if you simply asked. This was just a treat.” You giggled like a little girl. He smiled back and continued to kiss you.

In between kisses, you tried to talk to him again, but couldn’t keep from giggling as he shut you up before you could continue. “Sanji.” Kiss. “Sanji…” Kiss and giggle. “Sanji!” This time he slipped in a little bit of tongue. “Your father will be asking about you, we need to get back now.” Sanji let go and groaned like a little school boy. “Alright, fine. But only because I can give him an answer on who to marry now.” You turned to face him. “And who would that be Your Royal Highness.” The silence and the look in his eyes spoke for itself. You took a deep breath and begun to sit up, but not before Sanji could pull you back down into him for another makeout session. Your giggles interlocked with his kissing only made him fall deeper in love with you. “Alright. We can go. IF! You tell me your name finally,” he suggested. All you could do at him was laugh, his childish behavior hitting all your soft spots. “Alright,” you began “It’s-.”

Before you could finish, you were cut off by the sound of the bell chimes from the grand bell tower at the front of the castle. How many times was that? Shit. “What’s wrong darling?” Sanji asked, sitting up. It was twelve times. You looked at him, frazzled and upset. “I’m so sorry,” was all you could manage to say as you ran out of the gazebo doors. Sanji’s face after you told him will be forever burned into your brain.

You ran and ran and couldn’t seem to slow down. You couldn’t possibly, you had no idea how much time you had left. You made your way through the castle, Sanji close on your trails and sending guards to chase after you. You made your way down the entrance stairs and into your carriage, which you could see rotting away by the second. As you jumped in, you couldn’t help but turn around and watch the castle as you drove away. You could even see Sanji, staring longingly out for you.

This was only for one night though. You needed to get that into your head or you would run straight back to him. You had a life to live. And you needed to go back to fulfill your duty. But this one night. This one perfect night. This was one you hoped to never forget.

a/n: you know how this story ends TRUST HE FINDS HER THROUGH THE SLIPPER AND EVERYTHING ENDS UP OKAY i just really didn't feel like writing all that lmao. hope you enjoyed (i sure did lol)

#sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji vinsmoke #opla #op #one piece #one piece sanji #x reader #sanji x reader #one piece au #au #alternate universe #cinderella au #fanfic #fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic

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egcdeath · 2 years ago

Text

kith and kin

pairing: joel miller x f!reader (pairing from the soccer parents AU)

summary: your parents finally meet joel in the midst of celebrating your daughter’s birthday.

word count: 8.3k

warnings: brief mention of past abuse, a little tough love from reader’s mom, no use of y/n, cursing, alternate universe: no apocalypse, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, joel is a little anxious, your daughters are sassy, very lightly edited

author’s note: i’ve had the worst writers block recently, but i love this pairing too much to let them go. feel free to send me any requests!

previous part / series masterlist

Joel paced back and forth in your bedroom, the padded sound of his socks hitting the floor pleasant at first but was becoming a bit of an annoyance by the tenth consecutive minute of the sound of pacing.

Chloe’s birthday was in just a few days and your parents had rented out a cabin on Canyon Lake, inviting you and one of her friends to come along. Seeing as you’d been together for around a year now and that there was no better time than the present, you figured it was probably about time for Joel to meet your parents.

“Joel,” you finally said sternly, zipping up your suitcase and looking up at your partner. “Relax, honey. They’re gonna love you. I mean, they’re gonna have to love you since I love you. That’s how it works, right?” you walked over to him and gently grabbed the bottom of his shirt, pulling him into what you hoped would be a reassuring kiss.

“I don’t know,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours. “What if they don’t think I’m good for you?”

“Well, this may be breaking news to you, but we’re not living in the 1700’s. We don’t exactly need my parents’ approval to have a relationship.”

Joel walked away from you, grabbing his own bag from where it laid on the floor. “I know, it’s just… I want them to like me. I don’t want you to have to feel like you needed to choose between me and your family and secretly resent me for years over that.”

“Maybe let’s unpack that last part some other time. But you’re so likable and charming, they’d have to be crazy to not like you.”

“I admire your belief in me, but it’s been well over a decade since I’ve had to meet and woo someone’s parents. What if I’m rusty?”

“Don’t be rusty, just be yourself!” you tried, smiling at your own terrible dad joke.

“Ha, ha,” his laughter was forced and monotone.

“Not the time?” You knew it was bad when Joel didn’t even respond to one of his beloved dad jokes.

“Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. But everything is gonna go great, okay? And if not, you have a few days to make them love you, yeah?”

“You’re right,” he admitted reluctantly, seemingly just wanting to move on from the conversation. “You ready to go?”

“I am. Are you?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

When you arrived at the cabin, your parents were sat on the front porch, seemingly deep in their own conversation before noticing your car pulling up.

Chloe was quick to hop out of the car, excited to see her grandparents. Given that they were practically attached at the hip, Sarah followed close behind Chloe, with the pair receiving hugs from your parents as they greeted the girls.

Still firmly seated in the car, Joel took a deep, yet shaky breath, giving you an idea of just how nervous he was to be meeting your parents. Wanting to give the man a bit of reassurance, you grabbed ahold of his slightly trembling hand and squeezed it hard.

“I promise you have nothing to worry about. You’re gonna have a great time, and my parents are probably gonna love you more than they love me. Got it?” you asked firmly, trying to sound sure of yourself despite the minor nerves you were facing yourself.

“Got it,” Joel parroted, although he didn’t exactly sound sure of himself.

“C’mon,” you beckoned, unstrapping yourself before getting out of the car. After a very subtle moment of reluctance, Joel’s door opened and your partner stepped out of your car as well.

The moment he got out of the car, you grabbed his hand, squeezing it once again as a small demonstration of your support before leading him up to the porch.

The girls were already making their way inside when you finally reached your parents, your mom giving you a tight hug and setting her head on your shoulder.

“It’s been too long,” she declared as she squeezed you for a few more beats, finally pulling away to analyze the man you had brought with you. “And who is this?”

“Mom, Dad, this is Joel. He’s Sarah’s dad,” you stepped back to wrap your arm around Joel, a slightly territorial move to show your parents that whatever you had going on was serious. “He’s also my boyfriend.”

“Nice to meet you, Joel” your mother greeted, shaking Joel’s hand and maintaining a somewhat loaded eye contact with him. She smiled at him, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Your dad didn’t even bother with the pleasantries, giving Joel’s hand a firm squeeze and one solid shake. Both of your parents looked rather skeptical of the man, but you hoped that the stern look you were offering them was warning enough for your parents to behave around your boyfriend.

As everyone left to put away their luggage, you stayed downstairs with your mother, who indicated she wanted to have a separate conversation with you.

“What’s up?” you asked her, crossing your arms over your chest defensively in anticipation of what she might say. Based on that loaded interaction on the porch, you already had a good idea of where this conversation is going.

“Is this the Joel from Chloe’s soccer games?”

Shit. The one time your parents remember the name of someone you disliked just happens to be the one time you bring them home.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you remembered that,” you attempted to casually brush off. “It is.”

“The one you couldn’t stand?” your mother pressed, her brows furrowing as she looked at you with what seemed like disbelief.

“That was a while ago! Before our kids got closer and I got to know him better. And really it wasn’t even like I couldn’t stand him, it was more like he mildly annoyed me and we would argue sometimes. Even then, I kinda just had a crush on him. That’s why I told you guys about him in the first place. Notice how you don’t know the names of anyone else on the team who I don’t like?” you spoke quickly as you attempted to justify what you’d told your parents in the past.

“Stop. Just stop,” your mother rubbed the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. Growing up, you were all too familiar with that move of exasperation. “Why do you keep doing this?”

“Doing… what?” you said meekly, almost scared of what was going to come next.

“Finding men that don’t treat you right. Men who aren’t good for you?”

Oh. So that was what this was about. It was less about Joel, and more about your parents not trusting you to take care of yourself.

One of your biggest fears after exiting your relationship with Nathan laid in the ways that people would treat you after finding out you had stayed in a relationship that was abusive. Sure, there was the sympathy that always came with finding out about someone’s past trauma, but then there was the judgment that came with finding out you stayed. You knew people would question your ability to take care of yourself and your daughter, and you knew people would question your ability to find a significant other who didn’t end up toxic. It shouldn’t have surprised you that your mother was grilling you like this—after all, it was her that you turned to on nights where you had nowhere else to go, bringing your daughter to her home on days where things with Nathan got particularly tough.

“No! No, no, no,” you protested, emotions that had spent far too long simmering on the back burner beginning to come forward. “Joel is the best thing to happen for me in a long time.”

“Honey,” your mom sighed and looked at you with what could only be described as pity. Frankly, it made you want to crawl out of your skin. “You sound just like a teenager again, defending Nathan.”

You nearly had a visceral reaction at the comparison of Joel to Nathan. You just wished your mother could understand that even though she may have heard some of the things you’d been through, that you had lived through those things, and you would never make that kind of mistake again.

“Mom, Joel is nothing like Nathan,” you expressed passionately. “He’s an amazing partner and he may have only been in Chloe’s life for a short bit of time, but he’s a far better father to her than Nathan’s ever been.”

“I want to believe you, and I am going to give him a chance. But just know that things even seem like they might go South, your father and I will be fighting tooth and nail to keep Chloe safe. You’re an adult; you can make your own decisions, but we won’t let her go through something like that again.”

You understood the implication of her statement and frowned. You knew that your parents just wanted the best for you and your daughter, but this whole thing just made you feel like a child. Why were you being punished for being a victim? Did your parents really trust you so little? Little enough to think that you would intentionally put your daughter in harm’s way?

“Okay,” you uttered, defeat evident in your tone. “But there’s nothing to worry about with Joel.”

“I certainly hope so,” your mother said with a sense of finality.

You found yourself sitting by the lake as Joel played with the kids, deep in thought as you pondered the situation. Maybe inviting Joel was a bad idea. Your parents clearly weren’t happy and your partner certainly wasn’t comfortable. At the very least, the girls seemed to be excited to spend some time on a little vacation with the man.

Chloe ran over to you, pulling your attention away from the cyclical motion of the water as it approached and receded over and over again.

“Come look at our sandcastles! They’re really detailed,” she said excitedly, grabbing your hand and attempting to pull you up. Her excitement was contagious, causing you to completely disregard all the negative feelings you’d been stewing in after your conversation with your mother in favor of adopting some of your daughter’s enthusiasm.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” you laughed, following your daughter out to the shore as she practically ran all the way over to her creation.

You squat down next to Sarah and set your hand on your brow so you could protect your eyes from the sun as you looked upon the three sandcastles in front of you.

“Well, what do you think?” Sarah asked, her tone just as excited as Chloe’s.

“I am very impressed. Great work, guys,” you expressed, beaming at the people around you.

“But which one is your favorite?” your daughter asked, shooting you a cheeky look that you were becoming all too familiar with.

“They’re all my favorite,” you replied, evaluating the castles.

“Boo,” Sarah jeered, clearly hoping for a better answer. “Which one is your actual favorite?”

“Hmm,” you fake-pondered aloud, bringing your free hand to your chin to make you seem like you were far deeper in thought than you actually were.

“We don’t have all day, mom,” Chloe commented, setting a hand on her hip.

“Hey! Good deliberation takes time,” you replied. Given that everyone was sitting by their own castle, it wasn’t very hard to pick out which one belonged to your boyfriend. Seeing as you were in the mood to mess around, you proudly declared Joel’s castle as your favorite, despite his castle not looking so hot.

“That one,” you said, trying to hide entertainment on your face as you pointed to the least technically impressive castle. Joel’s expression matched yours as he clearly bit back an entertained smirk.

“Whaaat? C’mon, I have a moat!” Chloe gasped, throwing a hand over her heart to show just how offended she was.

“And I have a mermaid! What does his have that ours doesn’t?” Sarah protested as she gestured over at her sand mermaid.

“She’s just biased because they’re in love or whatever,” Chloe scoffed. “Don’t worry, Sare. You’re a winner in my eyes.”

“Aw, stop, I love yours too!” Sarah grinned, going in to hug her friend as the two began to compliment aspects of each other’s sandcastles.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face if you tried. Somehow, being around your little found family always made you feel a bit better. Even if your parents didn’t approve and never came around to Joel, that didn’t change the fact that you genuinely were happy with the man, and even happier with the blended family you’d created.

“Girls!” your mom yelled from inside, drawing all of your attention away from the beach and towards her booming voice. “Lunch is ready!”

“I’ll race you back inside?” Sarah offered. Chloe was off on her feet before she could even respond.

You and Joel took your time getting back to the house, walking slowly as you filled him in on your mother’s one-on-one confrontation with you. Despite the joy in the moment just prior, the reality check of having to deal with your parents had brought both of your moods back down rather quickly.

“I don’t think your parents like me very much,” Joel admitted to you, a hint of shame in his voice.

“I-“ you wanted to lie to him, to at least bring a little comfort to your boyfriend who had been worried sick about your parents not liking him. “It’s not your fault, it’s Nathan’s. They think I… they basically think I have a type. It doesn’t help that they think I used to hate you.”

“Fuck,” Joel exclaimed quietly, looking away from you. “I’m sorry, I just… I want them to like me. I’m already so nervous, I feel like I’m gonna shit a fucking brick. How can I make them like me?”

“Just be yourself, okay? And relax. I’m gonna love you regardless of whether or not my parents like you. Nothing's gonna change because of what my parents think of you. At the end of the day, I’m the one crawling in bed with you, not them. Who cares what they think?”

“I care. Deep down, you care too.”

“Joel, please,” you stopped and grabbed his hands, gently tugging him over to you. “I genuinely do not care. I love you. I love our family. Nothing is going to change that, okay? Nothing.”

Joel looked at you anxiously, his eyes a bit more defeated than usual. The two of you made wordless eye contact, communicating something heartfelt without using one word.

“We’re gonna be okay, regardless of how this weekend turns out. Okay? Just be yourself and my parents will eventually come around. If they don’t, it’s their loss.”

The round table at the patio of the lake house had a shape that in any other setting you wouldn’t even really notice, but only seemed to create more tension in this particular context.

You sat next to Sarah and across from Chloe, who sat next to your mother. It just so happened that Joel and your father were sitting across from each other at the table, and you could already feel the stare down just waiting to happen.

“So Chlo, what are you wishing for for your birthday?” your mom gently asked as your daughter took a bite of her food.

“Hmm,” she hummed as she thought. “I don’t really know. And if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you! Remember, wishes don’t come true if you tell people. But I am very happy to be here with everyone. So maybe my unofficial wish is to have more family time.”

“That is a great wish, Bug,” your dad agreed. Sarah smiled mischievously at the nickname and Chloe threw her a playful glare.

“So how is school going, ladies?” your mom asked them, looking between Sarah and Chloe.

You glanced over at Joel, mostly to make sure that he was doing okay under the pointed gaze of your father. Sweat beaded at his forehead and you weren’t quite sure if it was from the dry heat or from the daggers your dad was currently shooting at him.

Thankfully, your kids seemed to be blissfully unaware of the one-sided war going on at the table. You attempted to reach under the table and grab Joel’s hand, but the odd shape of the table didn’t allow for that. He was on his own for the duration of lunch.

The conversation mostly flowed between your mom, Chloe, and Sarah, with your father occasionally butting in to comment on something. All you could do was sit and watch while your dad grilled your boyfriend with only his eyes, with not one thing you could do about it.

Finally, it seemed like everyone had finished their meals, and that Joel could finally get up and be put out of his misery. But fate didn’t seem to be on his side, as he somehow wasn’t off the hook yet.

“Why don’t you all go try out one of the trails? Joel and I are gonna stay behind and do some dishes,” your dad proposed, making pointed eye contact with your boyfriend.

The girls happily agreed with the plan, excited and oblivious of the fear that had just coursed through yours and Joel’s veins with the idea of him being alone with your father.

“Hold on, ladies. You’re still wearing flip flops. How about you go change into better shoes, then we’ll go explore a trail. Sounds good?” you asked, hoping to buy yourself a moment of time to give Joel a pep talk.

Chloe nodded affirmatively and the two of them headed inside to change. At least you could have one private moment with Joel before he had to face off your father.

You stood up and pushed in your chair before grabbing Joel’s hand and squeezing his slightly shaking palm as hard as you could.

“You’ll be okay. Just relax,” you said under your breath so that your parents wouldn’t notice. “Remember, you can’t say the wrong thing. Even if they despise you, I’ll still love you. Okay?”

“Okay,” Joel agreed, although he didn’t seem completely convinced.

“You got this,” you reiterated, letting go of Joel’s hand as the girls came back outside, talking about some show they’d been watching.

When you glanced away, your father had begun picking up plates, looking at Joel like he expected him to be doing the same. That was your cue to leave.

You mouthed good luck at Joel before your mother ushered you all away. You had no idea how your dad was going to act around your boyfriend, but you certainly hoped for his sake that he wouldn’t be too terrible.

After you and the girls left, Joel and your father picked up the dishes outside in silence, with Joel focusing on finding his composure and maintaining it, and your father being completely unreadable.

Joel politely opened the door for the man, even with his hands filled with plates, cups, and silverware. Your father simply gave Joel a curt nod rather than a verbal thank you.

He followed your father into the kitchen, trailing a few steps behind him before setting down the content of his full arms into the sink. Joel did his best not to overthink this interaction, but it was going to be his first one-on-one with one of your parents, and your father had already spent the past hour giving him a nasty glare.

The following silence was awkward and thick. Almost like those tension filled silences you and Joel had the first few times you were together with stakes that somehow felt even higher.

Joel stood at the sink, silently scrubbing away at a dish, hoping that an awkward silence would be the most of his woes that day, rather than any sort of verbal confrontation.

“You do the dishes often?” your dad asked out of the blue, breaking the awkward silence with an even more awkward question.

“Uh,” he tried not to show how thrown off he was by the question. Maybe if Joel could treat the interaction as less of an interrogation and more of a way for your dad to get to know him a little better, things would be slightly less awkward. “I do. I mean, I’ve been a single dad for almost 13 years. Someone had to wash the dishes, and it wasn’t gonna be Sarah.” Joel chuckled awkwardly, but your father didn’t even crack a smile.

“So if you had a wife, she’d be doing the dishes?”

Joel was once again thrown off, this time by the accusatory tone your father had asked the question with. Joel tried to give the man a bit of grace—your dad was probably trying to get a good read on him, so he would try not to let it get under his skin too much.

“What? No! I-I never said that. We’d probably split our house chores. I mean, that’s what your daughter and I do.”

There. That was a good enough answer. Tell the truth while explaining why him and his daughter were a good pair.

“Oh?” your father began with the raise of a brow, setting down the dish he was working on. “Well, why don’t you have a wife?”

Joel was completely taken aback by the blunt question, but assumed it was fair enough game to ask about. He would probably wonder the same if he were in your father’s shoes.

“Uh, my last long-term partner left shortly after Sarah was born,” he answered quietly, afraid of the judgment that your father may pass upon him, and slightly ashamed to admit what happened in the past.

“Oh,” if Joel wasn’t mistaken, it almost seemed like your father’s tone shifted, as if he wasn’t expecting that answer. “That sounds hard. Do you know why?”

It almost felt like that answer had humanized Joel the slightest bit in your fathers eyes.

“It’s a long story,” Joel dismissed, not particularly wanting to get into all the details at that very moment. “Leaving was better for her mental health.”

“Okay,” your father simply accepted, although Joel had a feeling that answer didn’t quite suffice.

“But things are better now, with your daughter around,” Joel added. “Sarah’s probably happier now than I’ve seen her in a long time. I can’t really speak for Chloe, but based on what I’ve been told, she’s been doing better too. It’s been really nice to finally have another parent around to be able to split duties with. I just wish I’d found your daughter earlier,” Joel gushed, hoping that your father would find his answer pleasing enough.

Your father was unresponsive to Joel’s statement, finishing up the last of the dishes before finally speaking again.

“You talk a lot,” your father said simply, turning off the water flow of the sink and turning to face Joel head on. “I’m not gonna beat around the bush here. I’m glad to hear that things are working well for you two right now. I don’t know how much you know about Nathan. I don’t particularly care how much you know either. What I do care about you knowing is that I will never see my daughter suffer like that again. Understand?”

Joel was taken aback by the abrupt change in tone, and just when he thought tensions between them were easing up. “Y-Yes, yeah I-“

“So if you ever put your hands on my daughter, or raise your voice even an octave higher than it needs to be at her, there will be hell to pay. Get it?”

“I do, uh, I get it,” Joel wasn’t even completely sure how he was supposed to be reacting to this sudden rant.

“I want you to say it. You’re not going to mistreat my daughter, and you’re not ever going to lay a finger on her. And god help you if you do anything to Chloe.”

“I swear. I swear I’ll never hurt your daughter or your granddaughter ever,” Joel’s words were rushed, and he swore he could hear his rushed heartbeat in his own ears. The sudden confrontation being jarring was an understatement, but he supposed that’s how your father intended it to be.

“Good. I’m going to hold you to that,” was all that your father said as turned to dry his hands off on a towel. “Thanks for helping with dishes.”

“No problem, sir,” Joel choked out, like his heart wasn’t still in his throat. He took that as an indication that he was dismissed, and he set down the things in his hand before walking back outside and heading straight to the lake—far away from your father.

As you were heading back from your hike, you were surprised to run into Joel. He looked slightly disheveled, but particularly relieved to see you. The girls seemed just as pleased to see him, talking his ear off all the way back to the lake house. You occasionally glanced over at your mother, trying to get some sort of read on her opinion of Joel, but it didn’t seem to be working.

“So what happened?” you asked as you stepped out of the bathroom, exchanging your towel for the soft pajamas you’d brought with you. “You seemed pretty shaken up after lunch.”

“Your dad just really grilled me,” Joel explained, turning off the lamp on his side of the bed as you flopped onto the mattress next to him.

“My dad can be an ass sometimes. I apologize,” you muttered, curling up beside Joel. “And I apologize for bringing you here. I didn’t know they were gonna be like this.”

“It’s not your fault,” Joel assured, hoping to bring you a little consolation.

“It is, though. I’m the one who suggested that you come. I wasn’t thinking,” you whispered as you set an arm and your head on top of Joel’s torso.

“They were gonna have to meet me eventually. Better now than at the wedding, right?” Joel quipped.

“Right,” you agreed, looking up from where you’d set your head on your partner’s chest. “Hold on, are you proposing to me right now?”

“No, not yet,” Joel began to backtrack.

“Good. You’ll need my parents’ blessing first,” you teased. “Too soon?”

“Maybe a little,” Joel stifled his laugh.

“Ugh, I’m exhausted,” you groaned. “I can’t even imagine how you feel.”

“Also exhausted, mixed with a little bit of defeated,” Joel sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “You meant it when you said you’ll love me even if your family doesn’t, right?”

“Of course!” you exclaimed, sitting up a little so you could make better eye contact with your boyfriend. “Of course I will love you even if they don’t,” you promised.

Joel still didn’t exactly look like he was buying it.

“Joel,” you began, tone stern and serious. “Every day, you make my life so much better. You bring me so many laughs and smiles, you’re always there when I need to rant, and you’re the most reliable person ever when it comes to parenting shit. You’re probably the best thing that’s happened to me since Chloe was born. So yes, it would be great if my parents loved you as much as I do. But until they figure that out, I could care less about their opinions.”

That answer finally seemed to resolve some of the insecurity Joel was feeling around wanting to impress your parents, as he didn’t bring it back up for the rest of the night.

It was far too early to be awake, but Joel was having a hard time sleeping. Sure, you peacefully snoozed next to him, and of course Joel was comforted by your sleeping presence, but despite the pep talk you gave him, the knowledge that your parents disliked him and that all of his fears had come to light weren’t allowing him to rest very well.

With not much else to do and an arm that was quickly falling asleep (thanks to your cuddling), Joel snuck out of bed and down the stairs. Maybe he could catch the sunrise on the lakefront.

As he made his way to the patio, he heard a few sounds coming from the kitchen, and went to investigate. He was surprised to find your mother already walking around the kitchen, seemingly making a coffee for herself.

“Morning,” Joel greeted, voice raspy as he announced his presence.

Your mom turned around and offered him a pressed smile. She clearly was not expecting visitors this early in the morning.

“Morning,” she repeated. “Would you like some coffee?”

“That would be great,” Joel smiled, sitting down at the kitchen table while your mother worked on putting together another mug.

“You an early riser?” your mom asked Joel, bringing a mug and some creamer over to him.

“Thank you. And no, not really. Your daughter and I usually trade off on who’s gonna wake up early and get the kids ready for school while the other gets to sleep in. I just couldn’t sleep all that well today,” Joel shrugged as he prepared his coffee just the way he liked it.

“That’s sweet,” she hummed, taking a sip from her drink.

Joel sipped his coffee as well, and found himself surprised at the quality of the drink. “This is really good,” he acknowledged. “Is this a pour-over?”

“It is! How did you know?” your mother sounded quite excited that you were able to identify any way of brewing coffee, let alone identifying how his drink was made from just one sip.

“I can taste the difference,” Joel explained.

“See! That’s what I’ve been telling my husband.”

“I also may or may not have seen your dripper. But from one coffee connoisseur to another, this is amazing coffee. I’ve always said a pour-over gets you the best flavor.”

“I completely agree! These new, fancy drip machines just don’t do coffee justice. Keurigs, Nespressos, they’re all hunks of junk to me.”

“Well someone gifted me a Nespresso for Valentine’s Day after seeing my dripper and calling it prehistoric. I use it, of course, but it doesn’t compare.”

“Since it was a gift, I can forgive that,” your mother laughed, taking a hearty sip. “Do you ever grind your own beans?”

“When I can,” Joel replied, thinking about the fresh bag of beans he had sitting on the counter back home.

“Ah! Good boy,” your mother exclaimed, clearly pleased with Joel’s answers. “You do any other special things in the kitchen?”

“Eh, not particularly. I do enjoy being in the kitchen, though. I mean, being a single parent, I didn’t really have many options but to learn how to cook since I didn’t have anyone else to carry me in that area. I will say, we’ve been baking more often. Turns out, I can make a pretty mean focaccia.”

“Baking? With my daughter? You sure you’re talking about the one upstairs? I swear I’ve been trying to get her to bake for years and she just… hates it! What’s your secret?”

“I don’t know. The honeymoon phase, maybe?”

Your mom laughed aloud at Joel’s joke. He had to hold himself back from beaming with pride. He could barely speak to this woman the day before, and now he was making her laugh?

“Whatever it is, bring some over next time. I need to be the judge of this ‘mean focaccia’.”

Next time? Thank god for not being able to sleep.

“Of course!” Joel said with what may have been a little too much enthusiasm. He sipped some coffee from his mug while he thought about something else to say to fill up the silence, but your mother began to speak once again.

“So Joel, I want to know more about you. Other than the fact that you raised an adorable kid, like coffee a lot, and used to argue with my daughter during the soccer season.”

“She told you about that?” Joel asked, unsure of how to react. He wanted to laugh at the fact that you’d shared that with your parents, either before your relationship began or recently as some sort of fun fact, but he was still walking on eggshells around your parents.

“Yeah,” your mom acknowledged. It almost seemed as if she wanted to be casual about it, but also was curious for a bit more context.

“It was a long time ago,” Joel explained as if he could make it better. “It was never anything serious.”

“Well, how did you go from arguing every week to… this?”

“After the girls became friends, they kept setting us up to do things together. After that, things progressed pretty naturally. I think we just clicked. Realized we’re a good team and like each other’s company. I mean, I really love her and Chloe. I’m really happy with our little family.”

“Family?” your mom questioned with raised brows and a tilt of her head.

Joel wondered if he’d said the wrong thing or overstepped some sort of boundary. “I mean, I guess. I would say we… function as a family?”

“So there’s no secret engagement or secret wedding I need to know about,” your mother probed.

“No! Not at all,” Joel confirmed, hoping to quell some of the concern that had seemed to find itself on her face.

“And you didn’t come here to get a blessing for an engagement?” she implored.

“No! This is only my first time meeting you guys. I mean, I’m more worried about making a good impression than getting your approval on our potential marriage. Besides, I’m not really sure she’s interested in marriage after…”

Your mother nodded as Joel trailed off, not needing him to finish his sentence to understand where he was going.

“How much has she told you about Nathan?” she queried, seeming to be even more curious about this question than she was about some of the previous questions.

“Bits and pieces. Some things I’ve inferred,” Joel answered.

“Yeah. It was pretty bad for her and Chlo,” your mother simply stated. “Maybe we’ll talk about it some other time. It might help you understand why my husband and I have been the way that we’ve been towards you.”

“No, I get it. If anyone I loved had to go through those things—let alone my daughter, I would react the same way. I’d probably be worse,” Joel stiffly chuckled into his drink. For a moment, Joel thought about punching Nathan. The perfect cathartic moment for hurting and harassing the woman he loves. He’d do it again. And he’d do it to any person who even attempted to hurt you, Sarah, or Chloe.

“I just want to wrap her up in bubble wrap,” your mother admitted. “I never want her to be hurt again, and I know it isn’t possible, but I just want to be so sure that she’ll never be hurt in that way again. I apologize for being hostile, but you understand, right?”

“Of course I do,” Joel said earnestly. “And if it’s any consolation, I would never, ever do anything to intentionally hurt her. I know what it’s like to have a wall built around your heart and to swear that you’ll never let anyone in again. Your daughter let me in, and I’d never want her to regret that.”

Your mom seemed to think for a moment, getting up and setting her mug in the sink before sitting back down across from Joel.

“Either you’re really manipulative, or you really love her. I’m gonna hope for all of our sakes it’s the latter.”

“I can guarantee that it is.”

“I’m gonna believe you. But only because I want to try that focaccia.” Though your mom stated that with the cadence of a joke, Joel couldn’t help but feel that there was some hint of truth behind her words. Sure, this conversation hadn’t fixed everything, but it seemed like she trusted him just a bit more.

You crept down the stairs, clearly trying to be quiet, but failing at doing so. You approached the kitchen and yawned aloud, attempting to alert Joel and your mother of your presence.

“Good morning,” you greeted the pair. “You better not be interrogating my boyfriend,” you told your mom as you sat down next to the man of the hour.

“Nothing of the sort. We were just talking about baking. Why didn’t you tell me you bake now? And why haven’t you baked with me?”

“I guess I just didn’t have the right pastry chef,” you chimed, stealing Joel’s mug and taking a sip of his coffee. “Did Joel tell you that we’ve been working our way up to sourdough? I just ordered some starter the other day.”

“Oh wow. You’re like a completely different person. I don’t even know you anymore.”

“Sorry,” you apologized insincerely.

“Does this mean you’ll start baking with me when you come home?”

“Sorry mom. I’m loyal to my pastry chef. Has he told you about his focaccia? It’s really good. We’ll bring it next time you invite us over.”

You pulled your chair a little closer to Joel’s and held his hand under the table, a simple reassurance that you were there, and you weren’t going to let your parents treat him any way he didn’t deserve to be treated.

“You are breaking my heart,” your mom said, clutching her chest jokingly. “Although you mended it when you mentioned bringing bread.”

Luckily, it seemed like this day had started off far better for everyone—but particularly your boyfriend and mother. The two of them were getting along swimmingly, working together to whip up breakfast, carrying the conversation throughout the meal, and even going on to converse while the girls played at the beach.

If nothing else, you were glad that Joel was growing on your mother. You still couldn’t really get a read on your father’s opinion of your boyfriend, but hopefully with your mom now on his side, she would be able to talk some sense into your father.

It just so happened that your parents had planned to set up a few things around the house in preparation for the birthday festivities for the following day, and your mother had somehow managed to talk Joel into helping them out with their preparation. Since your boyfriend would be setting up, you were tasked with distracting the girls with a day out on the town, leaving your boyfriend alone in the lake house with your parents.

As things seemed to be going well between your mother and Joel at the very least, you at least weren’t too worried about your parents shredding your partner to bits while you pampered the girls and took them shopping.

Despite this fact, you still checked in with your partner multiple times throughout the day, getting updates about things he was doing with your parents, or any particularly interesting conversations they’d had during the day. For the most part, things seemed to be going well, but as the evening began to come in, you began to hear less and less from Joel, making you the slightest bit worried.

Once you got back to the lake house, you were pleasantly surprised to hear the sound of laughter coming from the back patio, paired with the familiar scent of a bonfire. The girls seemed more than pleased to go straight to the backyard, walking off far ahead of you.

By the time you reached the patio, Sarah and Chloe had already found spots to sit around the fire, and Joel was tossing some more firewood into the pit while seemingly laughing at a conversation going on between himself and your father. Although you couldn’t have seen the evening going this way when you initially came the previous morning, you couldn’t have been happier that everyone seemed to be getting along.

You found your own seat by the fire and Joel came back to sit next to you as your mother began to ask the girls a few questions about their day.

After getting as comfortable as you could on what was essentially a rock turned into a bench and leaning onto your partner, you and Joel quietly roasted marshmallows as your daughters excitedly chatted away, just happy to be able to sit and relax after a busy day. You were curious to hear all that occurred between Joel and your parents while you were away that had made them open up to each other more, but you could certainly wait.

“So girls, what was the highlight of your day?” your mom asked, turning to face your daughters.

“We had really nice manicures. The woman who did my nails was so much better than mom is. No offense, mom.”

“None taken,” you laughed at your daughter’s blunt statement.

“If it makes you feel better, you can’t be any worse than my dad,” Sarah offered, only contributing to your laughter.

“You’re probably right,” you agreed, playfully nudging Joel.

“I thought we understood that anything regarding my artistic ability is a soft spot?” he attempted to defend himself, but it was already too late.

“Sorry, Joel,” your daughter giggled, encouraging Sarah to giggle along with her.

“I also really liked our manicures, but we went to this really cute café with really good pastries and drinks!” Sarah exclaimed, gratefully accepting the slightly burnt—and just the way she likes it—s’more that you passed her.

“We only got decaf drinks, don’t worry,” you explained as you watched Joel hand Chloe a s’more of her own. “But everything was really good.”

“You would know, since you tried everything,” Chloe teased.

“Thirteen-year-old Chloe is even more sassy than before,” you teased right back. “It’s called the mom tax. Since I was your chauffeur all day, I got to steal a little nibble of your pastries. I think that’s fair.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Sarah added in, grinning mischievously at you.

“I would probably do the same,” Joel interjected, coming to your defense.

“See? This is why I keep you around,” you squeezed his arm and grinned up at your partner.

“Ugh, you guys are always being so gross,” Chloe laughed. “Do you see what we have to put up with?” Chloe directed at her grandparents.

“You know, one day you’ll find someone that you want to be gross with too,” your mother explained.

“No way,” your daughter giggled, standing up and stretching. “Do you wanna go get ready for bed, Sare?”

“Sure!” she said cheerily, popping up and heading inside with her friend.

“Seems like they had a good day,” your father commented once the pair were gone.

“I think so. I hope so. Chlo was pretty bummed when she found out her dad was going to be out of town during her birthday, but I’m pretty sure this has made up for it. Thank you for putting this all together,” you acknowledged.

“Of course! Anything for our girls,” your mom said, smiling softly at you as she reached out to put a hand on your knee.

“Well what did you guys get up to while we were gone?” you asked, hoping to get a little insight into what you missed while you were gone.

“Joel and I did some baking, then he helped your father put together some decorations. Speaking of which, you’re gonna have to help me put up some final touches before the big day.”

“Of course,” you agreed, happy to do anything that would make your daughter’s special day more special.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I can finish up and help you with whatever needs to be done,” Joel offered.

“You’ve already worked so much today, Joel. We couldn’t possibly ask you to do anything else,” your mother practically gushed. Joel seemed like he was going to protest, opening his mouth before your mother cut him off. “I insist.”

You couldn’t believe that just the previous morning your mother was lecturing you over this man.

“Well, I’m not gonna argue with that. But if you need any help at all, I am more than willing to be there,” Joel reiterated.

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary,” your mom stretched her arms behind her head and yawned. “I’m getting a little tired. Would you like to go set up now?”

You were getting the feeling that the question was less of a question and more of a direction, but you agreed regardless, pressing a kiss to Joel’s cheek before you went back inside with your mom to help set up the last few things for Chloe’s birthday.

Setting things up was about as eventful as you thought it might be, other than the absolute raving your mom was doing over your partner, and the occasional sound of muffled laughter coming from the patio.

“I’m starting to think you like my boyfriend more than you like me,” you commented offhandedly as you tied off a balloon.

“Oh I do,” your mother agreed. “You think I’m bad? You should see your father. Yesterday he was so wary of Joel, but today those two have just been giggling and bonding all day. I should’ve known it was a wrap after your boyfriend made a stupid dad joke,” she glanced over at the glass door leading to the backyard.

“So what changed his mind?” you asked, setting down the balloon. “What changed yours?”

“After talking to him for a while, it was just very obvious how much he loves you and the girls. He also just happens to be a very likable guy. I don’t know how you ever managed to hate him before.”

“I already told you, it was like we were flirt-arguing!” you insisted.

“I know, I’m just teasing. I’ll still be a little cautious, but he seems like a good guy. Now, after he and your dad got over their little awkward thing, they absolutely hit it off. Just started bonding over everything under the sun. Their love of guitar, their love of DIY projects, their love of you…”

You smiled to yourself as you listened to your mom. It was great news that Joel had been able to bond with your parents, despite whatever feelings they’d had towards him previously.

“That’s good to hear. I’m happy you both finally came to your senses. He was worried sick about you guys not liking him.”

“Well, he’s got nothing to worry about now,” your mom flashed you a smile that matched yours as she finished off the balloons. “I think that’s all we needed to do. I’ll wake you up in the morning if I need any extra hands then.”

“Please don’t,” you groaned, pulling yourself out of your chair and glancing back over at the back door, where Joel and your father still seemed to be having a great time. When you looked back over, your mother was approaching you with open arms.

“I’m sorry, honey. I know you’ve already been through so much, and you wouldn’t purposely put yourself through that again,” she began as she embraced you. The apology was like music to your ears. You just hoped that Joel had also received some form of apology from your parents, as he was the one receiving the majority of the pushback. “I’m proud of you. I’m proud of you for leaving Nathan, and I’m proud of you for focusing on yourself, and I’m proud of you for finding someone good for you when you were finally ready.”

“I love you. I’m pretty fond of your boyfriend, too. Goodnight,” your mother bid you farewell, and you couldn’t even think of a proper response before she was already going up the stairs. You had much to process tonight.

Long after you’d fallen asleep, you woke up to the feeling of the mattress shifting its weight. When you turned over onto your side to see what the disturbance was, you just barely made out your partner in the dark.

“It’s just me,” Joel whispered as he settled in bed next to you. Like you were a magnet, you found yourself clinging onto him almost automatically.

“Hi,” you mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

“Hi,” he repeated, settling his arm on your hip.

“How was today?” you asked, nudging Joel over enough for him to be on his side so that you could spoon him.

“Really good, I think. I think your parents kinda like me now,” he yawned, relaxing into your touch as you held him.

“Kinda?” you muttered sleepily. “What did I tell you? They’d come around eventually.”

“You were right. I should’ve listened earlier,” he confessed as he fell into a more and more relaxed state.

“Maybe. I could care less about their opinion of you. That’s what I wish you listened to earlier,” you explained. “But I am happy that they like you so much.”

You were up bright and early to put the last little finishing touches on Chloe’s birthday decorations. You and your father taped up a few ‘happy birthday’ signs, while your mother and Joel worked on decorating Chloe’s birthday cake. Not much longer after you came downstairs, Sarah found herself downstairs helping to put her own creative spin on the cake as well.

After some discussion of when it would be acceptable to wake up Chloe, you all headed upstairs to her room to wish her a happy birthday.

As her door opened and everyone began to sing slightly off-key rendition of ‘Happy Birthday,’ Chloe slowly began to sit up as she grew more and more awake before she broke into a fit of slightly embarrassed laughter.

It was quite the scene, and probably not the most ideal wake-up call, but your daughter grinned and expressed her gratitude regardless, getting out of bed so she could attempt to pull everyone into a big group hug.

“Ugh, I love you guys so much,” she sighed fondly. “How did I get the best family ever?”

You were starting to wonder the same yourself.

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here-lies-beetlejuice · 1 month ago

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The Conjuring (2013)

The Old Arnold Estate, located in Harrisville, R.I., is an authentic colonial home, circa 1736. Its paranormal past runs deep, as far back as the 1700’s housing spirits and a series of tragedies.

The paranormal phenomena was made famous by The Conjuring movie in 2013, a story based on the infamous acts of Bathsheba Sherman, believed to be a witch. She was accused of murdering a baby using a sewing needle and, after her death, her malevolent spirit supposedly haunted the house.

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kemetic-dreams · 9 months ago

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Afro-Jamaicans are Jamaicans of predominant African descent. They represent the largest ethnic group in the country.

The ethnogenesis of the African Jamaican people stemmed from the Atlantic slave trade of the 16th century, when enslaved Africans were transported as slaves to Jamaica and other parts of the Americas. During the period of British rule, slaves brought into Jamaica were primarily Akan, some of whom ran away and joined with Maroons and even took over as leaders

West Africans were enslaved in wars with other West African states and kidnapped by either African or European slavers. The most common means of enslaving an African was through abduction.

Based on slave ship records, enslaved Africans mostly came from the Akan people (notably those of the Asante Kotoko alliance of the 1720's: Asante, Bono, Wassa, Nzema and Ahanta) followed by Kongo people, Fon people, Ewe people, and to a lesser degree: Yoruba, Ibibio people and Igbo people. Akan (then called Coromantee) culture was the dominant African culture in Jamaica.

Originally in earlier British colonization, the island before the 1750s was in fact mainly Akan imported. However, between 1663 and 1700, only six per cent of slave ships to Jamaica listed their origin as the Gold Coast, while between 1700 and 1720 that figure went up to 27 per cent. The number of Akan slaves arriving in Jamaica from Kormantin ports only increased in the early 18th century. But due to frequent rebellions from the then known "Coromantee" that often joined the slave rebellion group known as the Jamaican Maroons, other groups were sent to Jamaica. The Akan population was still maintained, since they were the preference of British planters in Jamaica because they were "better workers", according to these planters. According to the Slave Voyages Archives, though the Igbo had the highest importation numbers, they were only imported to Montego Bay and St. Ann's Bay ports, while the Akan (mainly Gold Coast) were more dispersed across the island and were a majority imported to seven of 14 of the island's ports (each parish has one port).

Myal and Revival

Kumfu (from the word Akom the name of the Akan spiritual system) was documented as Myal and originally only found in books, while the term Kumfu is still used by Jamaican Maroons. The priest of Kumfu was called a Kumfu-man. In 18th-century Jamaica, only Akan gods were worshipped by Akan as well as by other enslaved Africans. The Akan god of creation, Nyankopong was given praise but not worshipped directly. They poured libation to Asase Ya, the goddess of the earth. But nowadays they are only observed by the Maroons who preserved a lot of the culture of 1700s Jamaica.

"Myal" or Kumfu evolved into Revival, a syncretic Christian sect. Kumfu followers gravitated to the American Revival of 1800 Seventh Day Adventist movement because it observed Saturday as god's day of rest. This was a shared aboriginal belief of the Akan people as this too was the day that the Akan god, Nyame, rested after creating the earth. Jamaicans that were aware of their Ashanti past while wanting to keep hidden, mixed their Kumfu spirituality with the American Adventists to create Jamaican Revival in 1860. Revival has two sects: 60 order (or Zion Revival, the order of the heavens) and 61 order (or Pocomania, the order of the earth). 60 order worships God and spirits of air or the heavens on a Saturday and considers itself to be the more "clean" sect. 61 order more deals with spirits of the earth. This division of Kumfu clearly shows the dichotomy of Nyame and Asase Yaa's relationship, Nyame representing air and has his 60 order'; Asase Yaa having her 61 order of the earth. Also the Ashanti funerary/war colours: red and black have the same meaning in Revival of vengeance. Other Ashanti elements include the use of swords and rings as means to guard the spirit from spiritual attack. The Asantehene, like the Mother Woman of Revival, has special two swords used to protect himself from witchcraft called an Akrafena or soul sword and a Bosomfena or spirit sword

Jamaican Patois, known locally as Patwa, is an English creole language spoken primarily in Jamaica and the Jamaican diaspora. It is not to be confused with Jamaican English nor with the Rastafarian use of English. The language developed in the 17th century, when enslaved peoples from West and Central Africa blended their dialect and terms with the learned vernacular and dialectal forms of English spoken: British Englishes (including significant exposure to Scottish English) and Hiberno English. Jamaican Patwa is a post-creole speech continuum (a linguistic continuum) meaning that the variety of the language closest to the lexifier language (the acrolect) cannot be distinguished systematically from intermediate varieties (collectively referred to as the mesolect) nor even from the most divergent rural varieties (collectively referred to as the basilect). Jamaicans themselves usually refer to their use of English as patwa, a term without a precise linguistic definition.

Jamaican Patois contains many loanwords of African origin, a majority of those etymologically from Gold Coast region (particularly of the Asante-Twi dialect of the Akan language of Ghana).

Most Jamaican proverbs are of Asante people, while some included other African proverbs

Jamaican mtDNA

A DNA test study submitted to BMC Medicine in 2012 states that "....despite the historical evidence that an overwhelming majority of slaves were sent from the Bight of Biafra and West-central Africa near the end of the British slave trade, the mtDNA haplogroup profile of modern Jamaicans show a greater affinity with groups found in the present-day Gold Coast region Ghana....this is because Africans arriving from the Gold Coast may have thus found the acclimatization and acculturation process less stressful because of cultural and linguistic commonalities, leading ultimately to a greater chance of survivorship and a greater number of progeny."

More detailed results stated: "Using haplogroup distributions to calculate parental population contribution, the largest admixture coefficient was associated with the Gold Coast(0.477 ± 0.12 or 59.7% of the Jamaican population with a 2.7 chance of Pygmy and Sahelian mixture), suggesting that the people from this region may have been consistently prolific throughout the slave era on Jamaica. The diminutive admixture coefficients associated with the Bight of Biafra and West-central Africa (0.064 ± 0.05 and 0.089 ± 0.05, respectively) is striking considering the massive influx of individuals from these areas in the waning years of the British Slave trade. When excluding the pygmy groups, the contribution from the Bight of Biafra and West-central rise to their highest levels (0.095 ± 0.08 and 0.109 ± 0.06, respectively), though still far from a major contribution. When admixture coefficients were calculated by assessing shared haplotypes, the Gold Coast also had the largest contribution, though much less striking at 0.196, with a 95% confidence interval of 0.189 to 0.203. When haplotypes are allowed to differ by one base pair, the Jamaican matriline shows the greatest affinity with the Bight of Benin, though both Bight of Biafra and West-central Africa remain underrepresented. The results of the admixture analysis suggest the mtDNA haplogroup profile distribution of Jamaica more closely resembles that of aggregated populations from the modern-day Gold Coast region despite an increasing influx of individuals from both the Bight of Biafra and West-central Africa during the final years of trading enslaved Africans.

The aforementioned results apply to subjects whom have been tested. Results also stated that African Jamaicans (that make up more than 90% of the population) on an average have 97.5% of African MtDNA and very little European or Asian ancestry could be found. Both ethnic and racial genetic results are based on a low sample of 390 Jamaican persons and limited regional representation within Jamaica. As Afro-Jamaicans are not genetically homogeneous, the results for other subjects may yield different results.

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socialdisease609 · 14 days ago

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Thoughts on AGATHA ALL ALONG 2pt finale

VAGUE SPOILERS BELOW!!!

---

I kinda feel like if some of the scenes were presented in a different order, it'd feel a bit more fulfilling. Like the fight with Rio should have been in ep 9, and Agatha's past w/ Nick should have been in 8.

I still enjoyed the show overall, but I do feel like after the clever ordering of ep 7, the impact of 8 & 9's order felt a little weaker.

ALSO, I would have appreciated seeing how Rio and Agatha met, or a confirmation if Rio had always been Death. When we see Rio in the 1700s, Agatha is already aware of her role, and they already have established feelings. It just would have been nice to see, or to at least hear, how they came to be a thing.

Still, one of the best MCU shows 🖤

#agatha all along spoilers #agatha all along #agatha harkness #agatha spoilers #marvel spoilers #rio vidal #lady death #kathryn hahn #aubrey plaza

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lizluzz · 2 years ago

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Just realized that for everyone in OFMD, especially the older characters, everything past 1700 must feel like everything past 2000 feels to me.

Ed will go 'yeah, I've had Fang on my crew only for like 5 years or so', and it turns out he's been with him since 1702. Because everything past 1700 is about 5 years ago.

Alternatively, he'll say that he's known Jack for about 20 years, and turns out they met in 1680. Because the 80's will always be 20 years ago. Lucius will have to point out to Ed that it was almost a full decade before he was born, and Ed will feel very old.

#our flag means death #you know it's true #time has no meaning anymore #ofmd #lizluz

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nucleo-bang-tan · 5 months ago

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The Uisa's Daughter | Chapter 1v : Her Grief

Pairing/s: Kim Taehyung X Reader, Jeon Jungkook X Reader

Genre: Medieval Korea AU, Mystery, Strangers to Lovers, Angst, Smut

Rating/s: 18+ Mature Themes

Warning/s: Grief and lots of it, King tries to sleep with her, the real Jungkook... And ofcourse, wouldn't be a nucleobangtan fic without shitty ass writing and really bad pacing.

Summary: In the 1700s, the Jeon Dynasty spread all across the Korean peninsula. Happiness quadrupled with the founder Emperor's presence, or so it seemed. Secrets scattered over the palace in the capital city, Hanseong were known to none except a few.

Chapter Summary: Curiousity did not kill the cat. Atleast not yet.

A/N: Not proofread!!! Please leave comments, I would love to hear from you guys. Critique my writing and tell me if I'm doing anything wrong, really appreciate it.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Teaser Prologue Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The morning sun rose, casting a gentle light on a world that felt colder without your lover. You sat quietly on the window sill, surrounded by memories, each one a bitter reminder of his absence.

The ache in your heart was painful, a silent testament to the love you shared and the deep void his death had left in your life. It had been exactly three weeks since your wedding day, but it felt like an eternity without him. Every day dragged on, the minutes stretching into hours.

You couldn't help but tear up. The syllables 'Taehyung' gave you flashbacks of your bloodied lover. The nights were sleepless and even if you did manage to close your eyes, the flashbacks didn't spare you.

Amidst everything, Yoongi's life was taken because he wanted to protect you. How you unapologetically wished it was your father who was slain.

The emptiness in your heart grew bigger and bigger with each passing moment. Every night, the King would visit your chambers. He hoped that you would give in to his demands, let him use you the way he had hungered for years.

But you never let him. You were always closed off and barely talked to him. He didn't wish to force you but you were surely making it difficult for him. King Jeon knew you never wanted him, but he never stopped pursuing.

"Why are you sad?" An endearing voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You smiled, wiping the tears on your cheeks.

"I just... I lost someone I loved." The little child climbed onto the window sill as well, sitting on your lap.

"I lost someone too, once. But I don't remember anything." He said, slightly frowning.

"Was it the Queen? Your mother?" You patted his fluffy, brown hair.

"How did you know, Y/n? Oh, I'm sorry! Father said I should call you my mother."

"We are barely 12 years apart. I'm more like your sister. You don't have to call me your mother if you don't wish to, Jungkook."

He giggled, "I love it when you call me that!"

You furrowed your eyebrows, "Call you what?"

"'Jungkook' of course!" He said, slightly jumping out of happiness in your lap.

You figured not everyone called him by his name, either addressing him as Prince or majesty.

"I'm more than happy to call you by your name, Jungkook."

"Yes! It's my name! I am the great warrior, Jeon Jungkook." You laughed slightly at his excitement. His innocent soul found delight in the littlest of things.

Over the past couple of weeks, little Jungkook had been your source of joy. He had a lot of energy, whenever you didn't feel like getting up, Jungkook forced you to play with him. Unknowingly, it helped you to handle the grief a lot better.

Ofcourse, he was a bit spoiled, being the Prince of an entire country does come with a lot of luxuries. But the kindness and bright nature overtook his spoiled attitude. The kid was the type to throw a tantrum when the chef didn't make his favorite food but then apologize for his behavior in the cutest way possible.

"Oh! I have a letter for you." He said, pulling out an envelope from his hanbok.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "A letter? Did you write it?"

"No, that person told me to give it to you. They got it from your friend." He said.

According to Jungkook, there was a person in the palace worried for your well-being. It was probably a maid who used to work for your father, you thought. You weren't allowed to leave your chambers, so letters were the only mode of communication.

You took the envelope in your hand and carefully opened it. You hoped it was who you thought it was: your childhood friend.

Dear Y/n,

I hope this letter finds you well. I am writing this two days after your wedding with the King. But I would imagine it will take a few days to reach you considering all the security. But I was promised by my friend that it'll reach you, no matter what happens, and I trust that.

I cannot fathom the pain that you are enduring. Losing two people in a single day, seeing them lose their light in front of you. I am sorry I couldn't be there. I understand why you hate the King. I am sorry for the times I shushed you when you were speaking ill about him. He isn't kind at all.

Yoongi was a great person and my friend as well. And about Taehyung... I am writing this letter to tell you what he wished you knew. He had kept this in the past but I am sure he meant to tell you this in the time to come.

He was no ordinary farmer. Taehyung used to be an assassin in the royal army. He climbed up ranks as soon as he joined the army. Ofcourse his identity was and is a secret to the mass. He was a brutal man, assassinating whoever wronged the King. He was loyal to the Jeon family.

There were also rumors that wives and women of aristocratic families paid him to sleep with them, and that is how he knew a lot of the secrets of the royals and high class families. The rumors were proved to be true and that made King Jeon furious. He was eventually removed from his position and was sent back.

This is all I know about the matter.

Y/n, how I wish I could be there for you. Your parents have no maids and servants now after what your father did. Although I am trying my best to get work back at the palace to be closer to you, the King is stubborn. He is not taking any chances and his trust in me has dwindled due to your father.

I believe in you. There are talks of a revolution inspired by Taehyung and Yoongi, talks to save you. Until then, I believe you will hold on. My friend at the palace will treat you well.

For now, all I can say is keep safe and do not let the King get to your head. You have seen worse now, have you not?

Do not lose hope.

Love,

Jung Hoseok

You read the letter slowly, each word sinking in. Hoseok’s message was a lifeline, a reminder that you were not alone. He was out there, fighting for you, and there was a glimmer of hope in the talk of revolution. You clutched the letter to your chest, drawing strength from his words.

Jungkook watched you with wide eyes, sensing the importance of the letter. "Is it good news?"

You smiled through your tears, nodding. "Yes, Jungkook. It's good news. Thank you for bringing it to me."

He beamed, his innocent joy a balm to your wounded heart. "I'm glad!"

As you tucked the letter away safely, you felt a renewed sense of determination. You would endure this, for Taehyung, for Yoongi, and for the future Hoseok envisioned. You would not let the King break you.

You remembered Taehyung fighting the palace guards masterfully, his moments were fluid and graceful. He was formidable until that soldier 'defeated' him on King's command.

You remembered Taehyung often telling you a thing or two about the aristocrats and high ranking officials. How the husbands were unfaithful and all the wives could do was sit there with a smile, because if they held any other expression, they would be beaten and bruised. He also mentioned the wives paying men for some satisfaction as their husbands found solace in anyone but them.

You remembered the way he held you whenever he made love to you. His movements reflected clear experience. You never asked him why it was.

He hated the nobility and the privileged yet he slept with wives. You couldn't help but wonder what made him go through with that. King Jeon, who had several affairs, would not remove Taehyung from his post simply because of what he did. There had to be more to that.

"Who is the letter from?" The patiently awaiting Jungkook asked.

"A friend of mine, Hobi. He is the sweetest person there is." You smiled, patting his head, "Thank you for delivering this to me."

"Will you play with me now?" He asked eagerly.

"Do you have a game in mind, little Prince?" You were more than delighted to have Jungkook. He kept you busy and didn't let you think much about the happenings.

"Hide and seek? But your chamber does not have places to hide." He pouted.

"That's alright. We can play something else."

"Can we go play in the courtyard? Father is visiting the kingdom. He won't know of it."

Knowing what the King can do, you didn't want to put Jungkook in trouble. Even if a single soul caught you outside of your chamber, you could face the King's wrath. But you could handle it, the 7 year old could not.

"Jungkook, you know I cannot. Let us play something else, yes?"

"I am the Prince, I promise you father would never know." He said haughtily.

"But you would get into big trouble." You sighed, trying to convince the little boy.

"I have people to protect me, do not worry."

"Against your father? I don't think so, Prince."

He shook his head, "I have people to protect me against anyone in this world."

"Jung-"

"No! You are playing hide and seek with me and I won't hear anymore from you."

You held the Prince's shoulders, trying to stop him from throwing a tantrum, "What if the King hurts you? What will I do then?"

He laughed, "He will be killed before he touches me."

You furrow your eyebrows, who would be foolish enough to kill a man like that? But then again, Jungkook was the future of the Jeon Empire. He must definitely have loyal guards.

"Are you sure about this? If we get caught, you say nothing. I would take the blame on me, alright?"

He nodded, "Yes! I am more than sure."

"Then let us play in the courtyard for an hour or so."

He jumped off of your lap in excitement, almost stumbling and falling. But he caught himself just in time.

"Try and catch me." You said, getting up from the window sill and running outside your chamber.

You knew the palace well enough to navigate through the confusing corridors. Somehow, it was exactly like the recurring dream you have about the non-existent prince and his dog, Bam.

The two of you laughed as you ran through the hallways of the palace. Mindfulness was long forgotten as your voices echoed. Everyone who crossed your paths didn't bother you when they saw the Prince running with you.

"Alright, do you want to hide?" You asked as you both reached the courtyard.

"Yes, but promise you won't peek." He said, clearly having experienced dishonesty while playing this game before.

"I won't, do not worry. I will count to 50, that is enough time for you to hide." He nodded as you closed your eyes and faced a large tree.

Time passed and you played with the child for more than an hour, after which you retired back to your chamber.

You were tired to say the least. Following a bath, you cuddled up to a large cushion, your hair still slightly wet. And as per usual, thoughts flooded your mind. Thoughts which made you cry out in pain.

Every single one of them consisted of your lover. The image of his smile as King Jeon pushed the sword deeper was etched into your brain.

You regretted meeting Taehyung. It was his fault you learned how to dream. It was his fault you dreamt of a better life, a life with just him and you. But it was your fault you held him with you. You were curious what love was, so you held onto him with everything you had.

Love always leads to misfortune. You never believed it existed until you met him. But seeing how the two of you ended, proved to be a constant reminder that it shouldn't exist. Love seemed much better when you thought it was a myth.

Your thoughts were cut off by the sound of the door opening. You looked out the window, it was dark outside. You knew who it was and you were ready to do anything to stop him from doing as he wished.

"Today was really tiring." He said, closing the door. You didn't move at all and stayed facing away from him.

You felt the bed dip behind you but you still didn't move. But you did visibly flinch at his touch on your shoulder. His large hand rubbed against your upper arm.

"All of my subjects adore me, tell me, why is it that you tremble at my touch? Perhaps the excitement?" He laughed.

"Stop being delusional." You whispered.

"What was that?" His aged ears did not pick up your words.

"I said, stop being delusional." You said in a firm tone, getting up from the bed and stepping away from it.

The King looked up at you and his laughter grew in volume. He was clearly entertained by your withdrawal.

His laughter seized and his gaze turned dark, "Delusional? My Queen, you are the one deluding yourself. You thought you could live a perfect life with that lad? He used you for money and pleasure."

"Get lost, I plead with you. Do not speak a single word about him. He never wanted me for my money. He was a real man, unlike you." You were agitated by his words. Your voice trembled with anger, yet you tried to keep a strong expression.

He got up from your bed and walked towards you, "You have not given me a chance to prove myself yet, have you now?"

"Leave." You gritted, hands clenched into fists.

His tall and wide frame towered above yours, "Oh, what if I don't, what if I..." He raised his hand to touch your cheek but you swatted it away.

"You are fucking disgusting."

The King turned his head to the side and let out a bitter chuckle. Without a word, he turned around and walked out of your chamber leaving you trembling with fear and anger all over.

Your labored breaths slowed down. You were supposed to hold on till someone rescued you, but he made it increasingly difficult to do so.

You laid on the cold bed. Hatred was boiling inside of you. How you wished Taehyung was there to comfort you, guide you through it all. You were tired but it seemed sleep evaded you.

On nights like these, you always imagined Taehyung was holding you tight and secure. You had never gotten a chance to sleep with him overnight, but your imagination proved to be a good companion.

You sighed, letting your tears fall once again, "I hate you so much for leaving." You whispered to your imaginary Taehyung.

You felt so broken, so cursed. Your own skin felt foreign.

"I suppose I have to hold on... for you."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"I am the undefeated Jeon Jungkook." The little child jumped around waving his wooden sword. His energy truly surprised you. Maybe you were just lazy but the boy played from sunrise to sunset and he still wished to play more.

You were sitting on a bench in the courtyard. The cherry blossom trees overhead provided enough shade for you to relax. Jungkook was fighting with the falling pink leaves.

It had been exactly 2 months since your wedding day. Spring had almost come to an end. The Korean Peninsula experienced a monsoon which seemed to be arriving soon considering the wind. You remembered when your father taught you about various seasons across the world. You didn't find the information interesting, always leaning more towards human anatomy and science.

You could see Jungkook's caretaker arriving in a hurry. You weren't afraid of being spotted by her outside of your room, she was the type to scold you for it but would never tell the King. The frail lady was Yoongi’s mother and you could see the resemblance in her cat-like eyes.

It wasn’t long ago when you had first met her. She had approached you with a stoic face, similar to that of Yoongi, but she was the sweetest woman you had met. She introduced herself as Mrs. Min, caretaker of the youngest child of the Jeon family.

Immediately you asked if she knew Yoongi, to which she hesitated to answer. After a bit of coercion, she admitted she was the mother of a traitor. She was ashamed of her son but knew he had his own reasons to rebel. You could tell she loved him dearly. She was taken aback when you embraced her and said that Yoongi was a brave person and fought for what he believed.

"My Prince, my Queen..." The old woman bowed.

You pressed your lips together and gave her a small nod in return, "What is it, Mrs. Min?"

"If I may, Eunuch Kang has requested the little Prince's presence." She said. Her small and wrinkly smile seemed the most trustworthy in the entire palace.

Eunuch Kang, though, always seemed a little too suspicious. Always keeping an eye on everything and everyone, supporting the Emperor's evil deeds and always advising him to do the cruelest thing possible.

"I shall be back Y/n, wait for me." Jungkook said, handing you his sword.

"You must not call her by her name, she is your mother." His caretaker gasped.

"Alright then, I shall be back, mother." Jungkook's tone made you silently laugh a little. He didn't want to call you his mother, but he had to in front of everyone.

You waved with a smile until Jungkook and Mrs.Min were out of sight.

It had been so long since you had been alone with nature. You decided to take a walk barefoot to feel the grass between your toes.

There were all kinds of flowers, trees and herbs in the garden. There was a tiny path amongst the herbs through which you decided to stroll.

You enjoyed the walk until you found yourself in an unfamiliar part of the garden. The palace grounds were vast and intricate, making it easy to lose your way. They were connected to various training areas, lakes and even a forest.

You had no intent to escape, though. Where would you escape to? All you knew was the capital city of Hanseong. Hypothetically, you would have to travel a distance of 150 km to escape the Jeon Empire. Even then, there was no guarantee that the border guards would let you pass.

Your eyes sparkled when you spotted a rare imported herb, saffron. These weren't naturally grown in your country, and this was the first time you saw a saffron plant. You squatted down to get a better look at the delicate flowers.

“You should get a better grip on the sword.” You heard a faint voice from a distance. The person was with someone else, you could tell. Your hands subconsciously touched the flowers as you heard their conversation. Maybe you could find some crucial information, you thought.

“How are you so good with the bow and not the sword, Jimin?” The same voice groaned.

The second person, supposedly Jimin seemed extremely annoyed, “I do not fucking care, I am leaving.”

You were so focused on the conversation, you failed to notice the increasingly clouded sky overhead. The clouds were already full and ready to pour.

You slowly walked to the direction of the voices, mindful not to step on dried leaves. As you drew closer, the figures came into view—a young man, possibly Jimin, and another whose face you couldn't quite see.

Quickly, you ducked behind a nearby tree, peering out cautiously. The branches provided a decent cover, allowing you to observe without being noticed.

Jimin was visibly frustrated, pacing back and forth, while the other person, a taller, stern-looking man, tried to reason with him. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves, but you remained perfectly still, straining to catch every word.

Your breath caught as the man turned around, revealing his face and his topless torso. His toned muscles glistened with sweat under the clouded sky. He held a sword with effortless grace, the weapon gleaming in the dim light.

You couldn't help but admire his chiseled features and strong arms, a testament to years of rigorous training. His strong jawline moved as he spoke to Jimin. His dark, obsidian hair fell in damp strands over his forehead, and his doe eyes, which reminded you of the little Prince, were focused on his comrade, a mix of frustration and concern evident in his gaze.

You tore your eyes away, feeling your cheeks warm. But curiosity killed the cat, and you were much like one. Your curiousity always led to trouble, you knew it. It was best to leave, you thought.

The downpour was relentless, you tried your best to see ahead. The smell of fresh rain filled your senses. The entire garden turned into a muddy mess not long after. You needed to find shelter, the trees weren't much help.

However, in your hurry, you slipped, and fell knee first on the ground, letting out a squeal. Not your best moments, you could say. Great, your hanbok was dirty, you were drenched and lost, and now you were probably bleeding.

“Fuck, what are you doing here?” A voice called out, concerned yet surprised. And now you were caught.

You looked up to see the topless soldier from earlier, his eyes wide with alarm. Before you could say anything, he swiftly picked you up, one hand under your knees and one around your back. You gasped, instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck for support.

“We need to get you out of this rain.” He yelled over the loud thrumming of rain. He carried you as if you weighed nothing. He moved quickly through the muddy garden, his steps confident and sure despite the slippery ground. Within moments, he reached a nearby stable.

He was barely panting as he let you down on your feet. You could sense him staring at you with his round eyes as you shivered due to the awfully cool climate. His presence, though casual, brought a strange sense of comfort amid the chaos.

"Who are you?" You looked at his drenched form, mirroring yours. The only thing that differed was his bare torso. A sudden realization made fear shoot through every nerve of your body. He seemed to be a commander of higher rank and you just made him save your clumsy self from the rain. What if he tells the emperor? You could be put to death for just being here.

"I am sorry but you need to be more aware of your surroundings." He said trying to sound nonchalant. He could see the fear in your eyes but chose to ignore it. Did he scare you?

"I-I'll keep that in mind." You bowed fervently.

"Jungkook..."

"What?" You tilted your head in confusion.

"I am Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook." Prince Jungkook?

You chuckled, “Ofcourse you are.” You rubbed your arms briskly to generate some warmth.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

“You are not Prince Jungkook. But you do look like him, I must admit.” You removed the outer coat of your hanbok, the wet clothing being a bit too uncomfortable.

“Why do you think that, my Queen?” He was amused.

“Because, you are not Jungkook. He is the 7 year old Prince of the Jeon Empire.” You pressed.

His amusement reached new levels, “That little kid? You think he is Jeon Jungkook?”

“Yes! Are you jesting me?” You looked at his very, very familiar face. It was as if you had seen him a million times, but you hadn't. Keeping your eyes on him was dangerous territory, yet you couldn't help but continually glance at him.

“I need to have a talk with him.” He laughed.

You raised your eyebrows, “You sure do have some arrogance.” How could a soldier like him stand on equal grounds with the Prince?

“Why is it arrogant to have a talk with my baby brother?” He folded his arms over his chest, biceps flexing as he did so.

“B-Brother? He is surely not-” You had second thoughts, though. His eyes? “Oh, his cousin?” you asked.

He shook his head, “I hope not. We are siblings.”

Surely the man was lying. How did you not know about the existence of another Prince, who could be the heir to the Jeon Empire? But then again, you didn't know the younger Prince existed until a few weeks ago.

You cleared your throat, you were still the Queen, you had superiority, you needn't be afraid, “And your name is?”

“I was not lying when I said I was Jeon Jungkook.” The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

“You are not Jungkook.” Your mind was processing a million things at the moment. If the man in front of you was Jungkook, who was the child you had befriended?

As if he could hear your thoughts, he answered, “I am the heir to the throne, Prince Jungkook. And the kid, he's my brother, Jeon Junghyun.”

#bts fic #bts #bts fanfic #jeon jungkook #jeongguk #bts smut #nucleo bang tan #new writer boost #kim taehyung #the uisa's daughter

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dickarchivist · 1 year ago

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Tell Me Again.

Wolffe × Fem!Reader, new relationship

Word count: ~1700

MINORS BEGON 🔞

Contents and Warnings: n s f w 18+, Minors DNI, small fight resulting in minor cuts and bruises, vague hints of an abusive ex, fingering, counter sex, riding, unprotected PiV sex, Wolffe being protective of you, Wolffe being soft, Mando'a lesson. Fluffy smut, how nice.

Summary: After a fight with friends, you wear a few bruises with pride. Wolffe comes home for shore leave, and teaches you a few words in Mando'a while tending to your needs.

Mando'a used: Mesh'la (beautiful, pretty. Used as a pet name). Cyare (beloved, loved, popular. Used as an improper pet name, corrected by Wolffe). Cyar'ika (darling, sweetheart. Used as a pet name).

Author's notes: A continuation of the "Don't Stop on my Account" fic, which can be found [here].

Oh, to be in the hands of a hot man as you give him words of affirmation. This ended up in directions I didn't think it would, I was planning on it just being fluff, but then it became double smut, akin to the first of this series.

You'd gotten more used to the comings and goings of your favorite clone commander. Wolffe still kisses you when he leaves in the mornings, tells you how he looks forward to your next moment together. You've caught him trying to sneak out a few times since the first time you caught him, but you've succeeded in getting him to be more upfront about when he has to go for a while.

Your friends have been warning you again, however. "There's no guarantees." "We just don't want you to get hurt when he stops showing up." "There wouldn't be anyone to tell you if he died or not." "All you have is physical." "Honey just let him go, find a real man, not one of those credit a dozen toy soldiers."

You get into a full out fist fight with the one who calls Wolffe a toy soldier. It takes the others to separate you, you've never had that kind of impulse before but it made your blood boil and you couldn't help but wind up a punch. It's a new sensation for you, looking in your bathroom mirror and seeing the shiner and split in your lip.

You've come home with these in the past, but instead of the fear you felt in the past, you somehow feel proud of these marks. You got them defending the man you care about, and not from the one who was supposed to care about you.

You discard your top and pants, checking yourself for any major injuries. Few small bruises starting to bloom, some scraps, but all told nothing serious. You're about to turn on the water in the refresher when you hear the front door of your flat slide open.

"Mesh'la, you home?" There's a flutter in your chest at the sound of Wolffe's voice. Even among other clones, you feel like you could pick him out among them.

"In here!" You go to grab some concealer, but hesitate. These are badges of honor for you this time, why would you hide them? You turn around to stride out, but Wolffe is already there.

His eyes go from soft to shock, then anger, and for just a second you think it's aimed toward you. "Who did this? Who hurt you? I'll kill them."

You laugh, much to both of your surprise. He crossed to you, hands rough but surprisingly gentle around your face, "This isn't funny. You're hurt. Shoulda been here..."

"I got into a fight with someone because they called you a toy soldier, Wolffe. Trust me, they're worse off than I am."

You're starting to like this shocked face of his. Wolffe blinks down at you, really looking at the bruise around your eye, the pad of his thumb ghosting across your lip, just light enough to feel it. He takes your hands, looking at your bruised knuckles, smirking a little, "Kept your thumb out like I showed you?"

"Threw a mean punch like you showed me," you smirk up at him, and he gives you an impressed look as he sets his hands on your hips. "Like what you see Commander?"

Wolffe chuckles a little, kissing the corner of your mouth, "Of course Mesh'la, I'm lookin at you."

"What does that mean?" You try to steal a real kiss, but Wolffe pulls away a little with a husky chuckle and your breath hitches softly. You adore that sound.

"What does what mean?"

"Mesh'la... you call me that a lot, what does it mean?"

There it is again, that husky chuckle. This time, paired with kisses against your neck, making one hand grip the bathroom counter behind you as the other cards through the hair at the nape of Wolffe's neck. "It's Mando'a. Means beautiful. Pretty. It means you, Mesh'la."

You moan softly, lulling your head to the side as Wolffe sucks a hickey into your neck. He comes off you with a pop and blows on the newly forming dark spot. It makes you moan again, and your hips move forward in Wolffe's hands. "Is there a word for handsome?"

"Why? You wanna call me handsome?" Wolffe lifts you with ease and sets you on the edge of the counter. He moves forward a step and you open yourself for him, hooking your legs around his waist to bring him nearer. As his hand runs along your inner thigh, he answers you, "Don't know of one, Mando'a doesn't have gendered words like basic."

"Teach me..." your words are breathy already and he hasn't even touched you yet.

"Teach or touch?" There's two fingers stroking the front of your small clothes, making you whine, and Wolffe can't help a light laugh, "So tough a second ago, what happened?"

"Wolffe..." you whine again, hands holding his shoulders as your body shakes at even the touchs through thin fabric. You're starting to ache, needing more, "Do both, but touch first, please, touch first..."

"Kriff... you're wet, soaked through your panties already?" when you nod at his words, Wolffe walks his fingers under the thin fabric and presses a finger directly to your swollen clitoris. You jump, and he laughs, the rumble low in his throat, "no fight left?"

His fingers start to work you slowly, swirling your slick through your folds. Wolffe's going slow on purpose, you can tell, but it feels so good you don't want to rush him. It feels like a reward.

There's desperation creeping into your voice, your hips move forward to meet Wolffe's hand, "More..."

"More what, Mesh'la?" But he knows, he's already giving you what you desire. His hand moves lower within your folds, touching your entrance with teasing strokes before two fingers dip into your slick waiting walls, "This what you wanted pretty girl?"

Wolffe kisses the side of your head as you lean forward into his chest. His thumb works your clit as his fingers curl and pump inside you. "Wolffe... oh- mmm... Wolffe..." your legs open a little wider for him, and you close your eyes as you lean against his chest. You're panting hard, fast breaths as he brushes that sweet spot within and you see stars.

Your climax hits suddenly, and as you cry out, Wolffe's arm caresses the back of your head. He holds you safely against him as your legs tremble, clenching on his fingers as his movements slow. You're so dizzy, head light in ecstatic pleasure. You finally get a kiss out of Wolffe, a proper one. It hurts for a moment, but you've wanted that kiss since you saw him in your doorway, it was worth the wait.

"What's... what's Mando'a for "you are loved"?"

There's a pause, before Wolffe speaks softly to you, kissing your shoulder and neck as punctuation, "Cyare. Beloved... sometimes used for popular."

When his hand leaves your folds, you're worried that maybe you pushed those words too soon, but as he lifts you from the counter and removes your small clothes, you know it's anything but. Wolffe carefully lays you onto your bed, then dofts the rest of his clothing to lay beside you. He doesn't mount right away this time, not like you'd become accustomed to. No, his hands trail down, eyes following, tracing patterns onto your skin.

You tangle your legs with his, closing what little gap there was, and palm his length, pumping the stiff length in your hand. Wolffe growls and stops your hand, looking into your eyes, "Why'd you ask that?"

"If I can't call you handsome, I want to call you loved, because that's what you are, Cyare." Your cheeks are hot when you say it, but you know it's true.

"That's not how you say that."

"Did I pronounce it wrong?"

"Yes, but you're going for the pet name, yeah?" You nod, and can't help but find this whole thing endearing you further to him. A man of his word, he touched first, and taught second. "It'd be cyar'ika, then. Adding "'ika" makes it an endearment."

"Then I love you, Cyar'ika."

There's hope in his eyes, soft, loving hope, as if he'd convinced himself you were playing a joke on him when you'd said it before. "Tell me again."

You move on him, getting on top of Wolffe and straddling his hips. His hands rest on your thighs, and you share a moan as you take in his length until you're seated flush against him. "I love you, Cyar'ika."

As you swivel your hips, panting again already, the Commander watches from below. He looks dazed, eyes not leaving your face, there's disbelief and pleasure there, "Again."

"I love you."

You start to bounce on him a little, rolling your hips, clenching tight around his length, hands pressed to his chest for support. Wolffe bites his bottom lip and bucks into your tight walls, drawing a cry from your lips. Your repeat yourself again, "I love you."

As you bounce on Wolffe's length, you repeat the words over and over, gripping his chest hair, your legs shaking as you climax again. Wolffe isn't far behind you, with a few more hard thrusts his hips buck sporadically until he grunts, spending himself within your walls. You fall onto his chest, panting with him as he puts his arms around you in a protective embrace.

Wolffe is quiet for a moment after. You've since returned to your sides, your back pressed into his chest, his arms secure around you, legs tangled together. He presses a kiss to the cone of your ear, whispering, "You mean that..?"

As you turn your head to see him, you steal a kiss before he can pull away to spare your split lip. "I love you Wolffe. I love you, and I mean it."

Wolffe kisses you properly, still careful of the split in your lip. His hands rub your back, the curve of your hip, he's careful with you in a way he hadn't been before. He doesn't say it in words, but his actions tell you for him. Wolffe loves you too. As he nuzzles your heads together, tucking you close to him, he whispers a word you know now, and it makes you smile against his shoulder, "Cyar'ika..."

Tag List!: @wolffegirlsunite @anxiouspineapple99 @wizardofrozz (sorry if I missed anyone or added someone by accident! Not used to people asking to be tagged in stuff haha)

#commander wolffe #sw fic #fanfic #wolffe x you #wolffe x reader #star wars smut #sw smut #minors dni #nsft fic #i hope yall like this one im so anxious haha #good morning hope the dick treats you well #from the archivist #sw tcw fanfic #tcw smut

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stedefxckingbonnet · 1 year ago

Note

So this is gonna be entirely too much info but like. I've fallen into reading your reader x Izzy fics and I LOVE them! I've been going through a hard time with it getting to Christmas and having no family, and the Izzy fics just make me feel lighter. So mostly just thank you thank you thank you!

Now the cheeky bit - is there any way we could get a Male reader x Izzy with a pride and prejudice element. My friend said something about Con O'Neil as Mr Darcy and I damn near swooned. Either like a Colin Firth wet white shirt scene or like anything like the Matthew Macfayden Darcy (The hands! The sopping wet pathetic man!)

If not, that's more than okay! I still love your work so much! And again, thank you so much for it!

Hi, anon! First of all, I completely understand how rough the holidays can be, especially without family around. My heart is truly with you during these times and I hope you can still find joy, peace, and love this winter. If you ever need anything, I am always in your corner. I know I'm just a random writer on Tumblr but I truly do care for you, each and every one of you, for that matter! I'm happy I could even bring you a sliver of joy with my work. Thank you endlessly for reading, and I am sending an abundance of my love your way <3 feel free to message me if you'd like, I'd love to be your friend! My messages are always open, everyone! But if not, that's okay too. I'm just happy to share this with you!

Anyhow, I absolutely lit up at this request—I love Pride & Prejudice! OFMD and P&P intertwining is honestly heavenly, I got so excited to write this that I put a pin on another x reader I was writing (never fear! You will all get this one by the end of the week if finals don't absolutely drain me!). This one is reminiscent of Pride & Prejudice and the vibes it emits, but more so, my own spin on it, as well as twists and turns. Like, Izzy honestly exhibits more of a Lizzie in this one but it's also very clear his actions parallel Darcy. I really, truly hope you enjoy this nonetheless!

Lastly, speaking of the holidays, I'm thinking of writing some holiday headcanons for Izzy or a few x readers regarding the holidays with Izzy! So stay tuned for that! Thank you everyone for your everlasting kind words, understanding, patience, and encouragement with my slight delay with writing in the past week.

My Gem | Izzy x Male Reader

Warnings: slight angst, some strong language, slight enemies to lovers, not so in depth research of 1700's aristocracy (even though I'm a damn dramaturg, but we'll look past that for now), made up my first non-canon canon character because just referring to her as "she" felt inhumane, brief mentions of fake suicide note, kissing

Word count: 2324

Thoughts of the first mate of The Revenge were absolutely consuming you. Devouring you alive, plaguing you—you truly couldn't get him out of your head no matter how hard you tried. Oh, yes, you tried. But there was no use. Daydreams would always swirl in your mind and they would only increase tenfold throughout the course of your days.

You were grateful that you at least didn't have to carry the burden of breathing the same air as Israel Hands anymore. You would even collapse being within ten feet of him, let alone seeing him every single day. Your chest ached even at the mere thought of the man.

To say you were confused by his last actions toward you was an understatement. Confused, embarrassed, miserable, even flattered...You couldn't get Izzy Hands out of your head. You couldn't get his hands out of your head...

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

"So you really are doing this, then."

"Yes," you nodded. "I am. I don't belong here—"

"You are a damn great pirate," Izzy almost seethed. "I'll be damned if I believe you really want to go back to that...lavish lifestyle."

You looked slightly frantically behind you in hopes that no one heard Izzy's dig at what was about to be your life again. You hesitantly looked back at Izzy, almost biting your lip in disbelief. "I just need to do this."

"Really? That's all you have to say?"

"What—what else am I supposed to say?"

Silence loomed between the two of you. He nervously fidgeted with the coat that Stede had lent him to disguise himself as an aristocrat. He couldn't wait to toss it back into Bonnet's arms, but he needed this in order to see you off safely, without any suspicions of what you had been up to in your absence from the life you were born into. He knew full well that you were making a mistake, but that you couldn't be convinced of this. His chest ached upon realizing that you wouldn't change your mind, that he wouldn't be able to change your mind.

"Goodbye, Israel."

Instead of responding, Izzy carefully intertwined his fingers with yours as you were about to step up into the carriage. You froze, yet began to melt into his touch, his warmth. You finally met his eyes just as he let go of you, and before you knew it, you were riding off into the distance, Izzy becoming a small speck fading from your sight. Before he began to fade out of view, you caught a glimpse of him flexing his hand by his side as he watched you depart.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You scoffed as the yellow carnation was pinned to your coat.

"Is something wrong, sir?" one of your dressers inquired, concern washing over his expression.

You almost laughed at such a question, thinking back to all of the late nights you spent studying flowers and their meanings, dying to tell him how this marriage was going to be doomed if you had to wear a yellow carnation. At the last minute, you decided against it, holding your tongue. "Everything is perfect. Thank you."

He nodded, exiting the room as soon as he finished dressing you. You turned toward the mirror, a frown falling onto your lips upon seeing your reflection. You had never dreaded a coming day like you dreaded tomorrow. Before you could internally lament further, a rhythmic knock was heard from your door. Genevieve—future wife. How delightful. It's not like you dreaded it every time she walked into a room, let alone walked over to your side, and it's not like you could tell she dreaded you all the same.

"Yes. Come in," you sighed, plopping down onto your bed. Only, it wouldn't be your bed anymore—you would share it with her, come tomorrow. Your solitude would be interrupted and put on pause forever.

Genevieve quickly rushed in, making sure to shut and lock the door behind her. She fixed her hair a bit as she did so.

"What is it that you want?" you demanded softly, your brows furrowing.

"Hello to you too," she rolled her eyes. "I'm not looking forward to tomorrow—"

"That makes two of us, Genevieve! Finally, something we can agree upon," you laughed, falling backwards onto the bed.

"Will you let me finish?" she crossed her arms without realizing it. Once she had in fact realized, an expression of guilt overcame her as she untwisted herself. A guilt you had never once seen her bear. You sent an apologetic look her way. "I'm not looking forward to tomorrow, nor the rest of our lives together, but I just wanted to say that you are lovely. I don't hate you. I just hate this."

"I don't hate you either," you sat up carefully, your head sort of spinning as you did so. "Far from it. This is just an...unfortunate situation we've found ourselves in."

"Yes," she agreed, carefully placing herself beside you on the edge of the bed. "You know, I would love you, if you were...there's no way to dance around this. I would love you if you were not a man."

"Oh!" you realized, looking over at her, relief crashing over you. "And I would probably love you if you were not a woman, quite honestly."

Genevieve gasped in delight, wrapping her arms around you as she laughed happily. You couldn't help but smile upon her embrace.

"Who is the lucky woman?" you playfully smiled, nudging her shoulder. You watched intently as you watched the pigment of her face turn rosy.

"Well...we've known each other since we were babies," she sighed happily. "But our families have been dear friends since before we were even conceived. It would never work out."

"Take "never" out of your vocabulary this instant!" you exclaimed, shooting up off the bed and onto your two feet.

"What are you planning?" Genevieve tilted her head.

You rushed over to your desk, filing through all that had piled atop it until you found a quill, some ink, and some parchment.

"We can't say you've run away—no, that would give hope that you're still alive and then you would be seeing wanted posters with your face plastered across trees anywhere you go," you sighed. "No. We'll fake your death instead. And you'll run away tonight."

Genevieve bit her lip concernedly. "Are you sure this will work?"

"I'm certain," you assured her. "Are you able to communicate this plan to your love before midnight?"

"Yes, she is coming to the rehearsal dinner tonight and I'm sure we'll sneak off to the gardens," she nodded.

"Wait—is that why you and Alice go there every time—"

Genevieve's hands flew up to her face, covering it as she giggled.

"My goodness!" you couldn't help but share the laughter. "Wow. I am not surprised, honestly."

"What about you?"

"Have I ever snuck off to a garden to—"

"No!" Genevieve rolled her eyes playfully. "Do you love another?"

"I..." you sighed. "Well, it's complicated."

"I've got time."

"I'm kind of upset with him at the moment. And I'm not sure how he feels about me. And I didn't realize I love him until after I left—"

"One thing at a time!" Genevieve tilted her head back to laugh. She place a hand on your shoulder. "Why does he have you upset?

"He held my hand before I left." you admitted, staring out the window as you spoke. Most days, you would have the curtains closed in order to mask the view of the ocean, as it would only bring you feelings of sorrow and regret.

"And you really question how he feels for you?!"

"Well, he's not like us," you frowned. "Believe me, I'm glad he's not. Though I just don't think he understands what a touch of the hand means to someone like me."

"You may come from different worlds with different values and rules, but holding hands is still an expression of affection wherever you come from," Genevieve pointed out.

"He did wear a fancy ensemble just to see me off safely..."

Once again, Genevieve's laughter filled the room. "You are blind!"

"It's just hard to tell with him!" you protested, laughing along with her. "He's hard to read. He's...very easily irritated."

"Is he like that when he's with you?"

"Less so, but yes," you shrugged. "He is a complicated man."

"But his feelings for you are apparent."

"My god, I need to go!"

"Yes, you do!" she encouraged you, patting you on the back.

"I can't right away. I have to get in contact with someone first, and if both you and I are found missing or dead by morning, it's going to be terribly suspicious—"

"You will find a way. I know it," she assured you. "Let's go and oversee the menu for tonight. I'm starved."

You laughed as she jokingly linked arms with you, leading you out into what you were about to leave behind once again.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

All had gone according to plan—you saw Genevieve and Alice off safely, and falsely mourned your fiancée the next day, and for only a few days after before Stede caught wind of your message. As soon as he had, you scurried to the beach, only bothering to bring a few possessions with you. You hadn't even bothered to leave a note—nothing attached you to the aristocratic life anymore. For good this time.

"Captain!" you exclaimed, almost out of breath. "Thank you. I'm so, so sorry."

"No need to apologize to me," Stede assured you warmly. "Believe me, I get it."

"I wish you warned me—"

"Oh, you wouldn't have listened," he teased. "I do regret having done the same thing you had, but if I hadn't, I never would have gotten closure with Mary and bade farewell to that side of me fully. You had to do the same."

"And you and Blackbeard—he forgave you?"

"We're working on it," Stede laughed. "He has, mostly."

"Do you think Izzy will ever forgive me? How is he?"

"Go see for yourself," Stede suggested kindly. "He's on watch tonight. I'll be in my quarters should you need anything at all."

Before you could thank him again, he vanished into the darkness. You smiled, though you could have swore your heart stopped upon the sight of Izzy Hands. You almost choked on the breath you had taken before gaining the courage to waltz over to him. Before you knew it, you were beside him once again. Izzy jumped upon sensing your presence.

"Jesus fuck," Izzy mumbled.

"Hello to you too."

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Oh, Izzy, I'm happy to see you too!"

"I'm serious—what the fuck? You just up and leave and then you're back. Is this some sort of pattern? How long will your stay be this time, perhaps only a day, maybe two—"

Without much thought, you found your fingers laced between his once again. Izzy's train of thought stopped in its tracks and all he could focus on now was the feeling of warmth that had been yanked away from him ever since you left, and that now, it had been restored. A warmth he thought he would never get to experience again, nor experience at all. Whenever he spent countless days and hours reminiscing upon it, he scolded himself, convincing himself that he should be grateful he got to feel that at least once in his life. It was one more time than he ever expected he would feel it. It should have been enough, but it wasn't even close. His heart began beating out of his chest—what was this feeling he couldn't quite place? He knew it all too well and he was tired of pushing it down to drown. Eventually, you softly removed your hand, and you noticed Izzy's hand flex by his side once again.

"Did it mean something to you? When you held my hand before I left."

"I was giving you a boost onto your ride," he shrugged it off, turning away in hopes that the darkness would hide his smile.

"Right," you laughed. "Izzy, seriously. I have been going crazy. Every single day, wondering if you ever understood what such a gesture meant to me or if it meant absolutely nothing to you."

"Of course it meant something to me, dammit," Izzy sighed. "You are such a fool if you thought for a second that it didn't."

You laughed breathlessly, relief overcoming you instantly as you pressed your forehead against his. The way the moonlight shone upon his face made him even more breathtaking, even more earth-shatteringly beautiful. You couldn't believe what your eyes were allowing you to see, and you couldn't believe how warm you'd felt. You almost swore you'd never shiver once again. Your lips softly grazed his forehead before you pressed another kiss upon his cheek, before resting your forehead against his once again, your eyes fluttering shut, butterflies flying around in your stomach as you reached for his hands once again.

"Mark my words. I will never, ever leave again—"

"Shh," Izzy gently whispered against your lips. "We can talk about it later."

"Later," you nodded gently as finally, your lips collided. Your heart did pirouettes as your lips danced against one another's. In the darkness of your vision, you caught a glimpse of your future aboard The Revenge, with Izzy. You had never seen so clearly, until now, that you had finally found the place you were meant to be after denying it for so long. You had found your family and your lover, and they were all gathered in the same place. This was a luxury that would always beat the fancy balls you attended, the gold-laced coats you wore upon your back, the gems you were gifted often. Izzy was your gem, and he made your life shine brighter than it ever had.

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