#I NEED FLUFF I NEED THEM HAPPY I NEED THEM GROWING OLD

[jjscrybaby]

could you do kook!reader spoiling jj? like, they're surprisingly really good friends and she's always getting stuff that she thinks he might need or want, like he comes over and she's doing skin care and she'll do his, or bringing him lunch, even buying him rings or surf supplies and everytime he gets all choked up and red because she's so sweet to him, just wanting to make him happy, and all his friends tease him for it calling her his sugar mommy and everything (all cutesy, sfw ^^)

jj maybank x kook!fem!reader | fluff | (sweetheart!reader, both are massive simps honestly, reader spending too much money on jj, lotta fluff!)

finally getting to my requests! hope you enjoy baby🩷 after writing this i’ve realised i have an obsession with jj and a sweetheart kook so if anyone has any requests for them i’m allll ears!!

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

One thing about JJ was that he wasn’t used to being spoiled. That made sense, with the way he’d grown up and the people he was friends with. The Pogues all adored each other, but they showed their love with banter and loyalty not with gifts and affection. That was probably the reason he turned into a teenage girl every time you were around, because you always had something for him.

It was a known fact that you had a crush on him, ever since Sarah had started dating John B and dragged you along with her you’d thought JJ was cute. At first, he wasn’t a huge fan of you, you were a Kook and in his eyes that made you the enemy. It only took a few days for that novelty to wear off, once he realised there wasn’t a cruel bone in your body.

It was after a couple months of friendship that the never-ending string of affection began. Showing up to his work with his favourite sandwich in a paper bag — a heart drawn on like you were his mother sending him to kindergarten — buying him a new board after he was complaining about how old his was getting, realising there was hardly any body wash left in the bathroom so ordering three bottles for next day delivery. He’d blush and stammer over his words every single time, you just had that effect on him and he couldn’t work out why.

“There she is, JJ’s sugar mama,” John B teased as you came skipping into the Chateau with a shopping bag in hand; nothing out of the ordinary.

“Shut up,” JJ grumbled, shooting him a look before turning to you. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hi, guys,” you beamed, sitting down on the couch beside the blonde. Your knee was bouncing excitedly, just waiting for one of them to ask you what you’d brought.

“What’s in the bag?” John B finally asked, a smirk on his face.

You instantly opened it up, grabbing a shirt from the top to throw his way. You didn’t want him to feel left out, although Sarah spent enough money on him that you didn’t feel quite so guilty for showing up with presents for JJ and nothing for John B.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” John B laughed, catching it with ease. He held it up, grinning at the shirt. You imagined he was similar to JJ in the sense that he didn’t get a lot growing up, although you always smiled in the same way whenever you bought yourself a cute outfit.

“It’s the same colour as your eyes!” You exclaimed, a cheesy smile on your face. You liked treating your friends, it was probably the thing that brought you the most happiness.

“Well, I appreciate it, thanks kid,” John B smiled, standing up to give you a pat on the shoulder. “I’m guessing everything else in there is for Mr Maybank here.”

JJ’s cheeks instantly lit up, looking away to try and cover it before his friend could make fun of him. John B stifled a laugh as you nodded sheepishly. You knew that they’d all worked out how you felt about JJ, you’d always drunkenly told John B and Sarah that you wanted to have his babies so that probably gave it away.

“I’m gonna go try this on,” John B decided, ruffling your hair before disappearing inside the Chateau. JJ took a moment to thank God for that, he hated reacting like an idiot in front of the others.

“You know, us inviting you ‘round doesn’t mean you have to bring presents,” JJ stated, scratching his chin awkwardly.

“I know,” you shrugged. “But I was at the mall, and there was so much cute stuff! I got this skirt, too.” You tugged on the end of your baby pink skirt and he let out a soft laugh.

“Go on then, show me what you got,” he sighed, watching as you squealed and started to empty the shopping bag.

There were at least six new shirts in there, a pair of cargo shorts because he’d ripped his at a kegger, some new rings just because and a sweatshirt he himself had been saving up for. He had the same reaction as always, a lump in his throat as he wondered what he’d done in his past life to deserve such kindness and a blush coating his cheeks as you rambled on about how good you thought he’d look in the shirts.

“Do you like them?” You asked softly, after he’d been silent for longer than usual. Normally, he’d stutter out a thank you, kiss your temple and flip off the Pogues as they laughed at him.

“I— yeah, of course I do, but I don’t know if I want you to keep buyin’ me stuff,” JJ said, running a hand over his face.

He could see the way your smile dropped, a look of confusion and hurt in your eyes. “Why?” You asked quietly.

“Because, babe, I— I can’t return the favour, y’know? I don’t have enough money to go ‘round buying you a bunch of stuff, as much as I’d love to. Makes me feel guilty,” he explained, placing his hand on your arm to show he wasn’t mad.

The hurt faded from your face and instead you gave him a soft smile, one reserved for him. “I don’t want you to buy me stuff, I don’t care about that. I like getting you stuff. Besides, it’s not like you don’t do anything for me.”

“What do I do for you?” He questioned, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to think.

“Lots of stuff! You make my coffees when I stay over, and you give me your extra fries. You scare away the boys at parties and you always say I look pretty,” you listed, this time a blush coated your cheeks.

He’d never really thought about it like that, like he was actually doing something for you. In his mind, he knew you liked a coffee so he’d make you one before waking you. He knew the Wreck’s fries were your favourite, that was a given from the way you’d scoff them down, so when you ran out he didn’t mind sharing. The scaring away boys was more for him, he didn’t want any of them swooping you off your feet whilst he was trying to work out how to do that himself. And calling you pretty? Well, you were.

JJ didn’t say anything, an idea came to mind. He reached behind him, undoing the shark tooth necklace he’d been wearing ever since he could remember. You watched him in confusion as he moved your hair out of the way and did it up, grinning as it rested just above your cleavage.

“I know it ain’t designer or anything, and it probably doesn’t got with any of your outfits, but it’s my favourite—” he cut himself off, watching as tears ran down your cheeks. You threw your arms around him and he was quick to wrap his around your waist, letting out a chuckle. “It was, like, a few dollars. No need for the tears, baby.”

“I love it,” you sniffled into his shoulder.

He felt himself pressing a kiss to your cheek, hand stroking over your back. Maybe one day that kiss would be on your lips, and instead of a stupid necklace he’d be buying you a damn ring. Not today though, today he was content with just knowing you’d be wearing a piece of him.

[cherryblossomcowgirl]

Sun To Me

WC: 2.5k

Warnings: Death of spouse; mentions of accident; grief; angst; FLUFF

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“Uncle Mav!” My son runs as fast as his little legs can take him towards the beach football game. Maverick turns around, beaming, “AJ! Get over here!” He picks him up and spins him around. AJ is belly laughing and I walk up, “Hi Mav.” He sets down my son and wraps me in a hug, “Hi kiddo.” The beach is crowded and Maverick laughs, “Sorry, squad bonding. Thought we’d throw the old pig skin around.” I smile, “I’m just happy to see you … and the sun. Don’t get much of that in Washington.” Maverick laughs, “Yeah, make sure you use sunscreen. You are pale as a ghost.” We laugh and he checks his watch, “I’m having my squad over for a cookout, do you guys want to come? It should be close to your rental.” AJ starts pulling on my leg, “Please Mommy? Please?” Part of me wants to go back to the rental and not be surrounded by aviators for the night. Part of me also knew what I was getting into when I took the contracting job here. I chuckle, “Sure buddy. Just for a little bit.”

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Maverick’s house is the same as always. Minimal decor and piles of work papers. “Everyone is out back, want a drink?” I nod, following him to the cooler. AJ grabs a juice box and starts running around the backyard. Penny sees me and walks over, “Y/n, it has been too long!” I hug her, “I know, Pen. How are you?” “I’m good. How are you, honey?” I take a second, “Better. We will be okay.” She looks at my hand and sadness washes over her face. I give her a weak smile, “I put the rings in a memory box when we packed up everything. It was too hard seeing them everyday.” Penny nods, “How is AJ doing?” I look over at my son. He’s only 4 but he is so tall, just like his Dad. I sigh, “He’s doing good. Asks about him a lot. It’s getting easier to tell him stories.” She hugs me, her eyes watery. There is a moment of silence before we walk over towards the group of people near Maverick. AJ runs over, so I pick him up for a squeeze. Maverick calls out, “Daggers, this is Y/n and her son AJ. She’s going to be working on our radio communications for the next few months.” The aviators wave and some introduce themselves to me. Then the back gate opens and Bradley walks through. He beelines to AJ, “Little man! You need to slow down, you’ll be taller than me soon!” AJ giggles, “Uncle Roo, you literally are so big that’s IMPOSSIBLE.” Bradley turns to me, “Hey, Y/n. It’s good to see you.” He wraps his arms around me and I breathe in his familiar scent, “Hey, Roo. You too.” Penny takes AJ in to play with some toys while I sit with Bradley and Maverick, catching up after a year of being apart. Their work has been crazy, as always. I tell them that mine is as boring as always, so I am happy to be here. “Need another beer?” I nod, following Bradley to the cooler. On the way we pass a few men who are standing close, talking in hushed voices. A man with dark hair motions to me and murmurs, “Yeah… that F-16 that went down last year? That’s the guy’s family.” I freeze. Part of me knew that they might know my husband, but another part of me was hoping they didn’t. Bradley turns around, eyes filled with worry, “Are you okay?” I nod, “I just need a minute.” I head towards the back of Maverick’s yard to get some air.

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The waves are crashing on the sand. I close my eyes, taking a moment to breathe. Seeing Roo is still hard for me. He became best friends with my husband during their time at the Academy. Best man at our wedding. God father of our child. How did it end up like this? I look to the sky for an answer, but I’m met with the same stars I see every night. Roo stands beside me and drapes his arm around my shoulders, “AJ is growing up so fast.” “I know. Did he tell you he knows all the planets?” He laughs, “Yeah he sang me a song about them. You should be proud of yourself, you’re doing such a good job with him.” Tears sting my eyes and I whisper, “I have no clue what I am doing.” Sadness fills Bradley’s brown eyes, “But you’re doing it. I should’ve been around more and I’m sorry. Now that you guys are here, I want to help.” “You don’t have to do that.” He looks up at the sky, “I need to… for Archie. I remember the day he asked me to be AJ’s Godfather… you had just found out you were pregnant. Archie knew it was going to be a boy.” I throw my arms around Bradley, squeezing as tight as I can. We stand like this for a minute, then little arms wrap around our legs. “Mommy! Uncle Roo! Up!” I wipe my tears and bend down, picking him up. He wraps his little arms around me and Bradley. AJ looks up, “Uncle Roo? Will you come over to our new house?” Bradley smiles, “Of course! How about I pick you up from school one day this week.” AJ’s eyes widen, “Mommy, can he? Can he please?” I look at Bradley and AJ, both staring at me with pleading eyes. I laugh, “Okay, deal. But Uncle Roo has to get a car seat for the Bronco.” They celebrate their victory and I check my watch, “AJ baby, it’s time to head home for bed.” He whines and Bradley chuckles, “It’s okay bud, I’ll see you soon. I promise.” We say our goodbyes and I take him back to our little rental. He falls asleep immediately and I drift away right beside him.

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The first week of the new job was busy, but I like it. It doesn’t give my brain any time to wander. Seeing the jets lined up at the hangar brings a lump to my throat. AJ’s teachers say that he is adjusting well. Every day he tells me stories about his new friends and what they did in class. Friday rolls around and Bradley texts me a photo of AJ in a car seat with a text that says “See you soon, Mommy!” I smile and set my phone down on the kitchen counter. The Bronco pulls into the driveway and AJ comes running through the door, “Mommy! Uncle Roo bought me a baseball glove AND A BALL! He’s going to play catch with me!” Bradley walks in behind him, holding the baseball gear. I hug AJ, “Did you say thank you?” Bradley smiles, “He did about a million times.” “Well you boys go play, dinner will be ready soon.” AJ runs out the back door and Bradley follows, grinning from ear to ear. I watch them from the window. My heart is aching and happy at the same time. Of course Archer picked the best Godfather. I open the back door, “Okay boys, dinner is ready! Wash your hands!” They come inside and AJ cheers, “Yay! Spaghetti night!” We sit down to eat and AJ tells us all about school. Bradley talks to AJ about work. AJ finishes and asks if he can go play, running into the living room to build his puzzle. Bradley looks at me, “When was the last time you had a night without AJ?” I think back, “Before Archer. I’m used to the quiet nights.” Bradley shakes his head, “The squad is going out tonight and you’re coming. Amelia can watch him. We can head over once he’s asleep.” I try to protest but Bradley stops me, “You are allowed to have a life, Y/n.” I look at my hands. I know he is right. Amelia is great and would probably like the extra money. I stand up, “Okay, let me start his bedtime routine. Then I’ll need half an hour to get ready.” Bradley smiles, “Deal. I’ll call Amelia now.”

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An hour later, AJ is asleep and Amelia is in the kitchen chatting with Bradley. I walk out and they smile at me. I leave Amelia my number for emergencies, following Bradley to his Bronco. On the ride to the bar, he clears his throat, “When was the last time you played pool?” I shrug, “A long time ago. I’ll be rusty.” He laughs, “Well, your rusty will wipe the floor with my squad. Just don’t take too much of their money, okay?” I smirk, “I’m not making any promises.” We pull into the parking lot of Penny’s bar and I follow Rooster inside. Penny smiles, “Amelia was so excited you called! Good to see you.” I smile and grab the beer she set on the counter, “She is sweet for coming last minute.” Bradley pulls me towards the pool table, his squad is standing around chatting. Everyone says hello and Bradley hands me a cue, “Warmup round? You and me?” I smile and nod. The Daggers watch as I absolute demolish Bradley. He throws his hands up, “I surrender. I don’t understand how you’re so good at that.” I shrug, “It’s just angles.” He laughs and shakes his head. The rest of the squad takes turns trying to beat me. Pheonix is good, Bob is okay, but Jake almost beats me. I sink my final solid and then the 8 and he chuckles, “Back home they’d call you a pool shark, darling.” I laugh, “No, that’s only if I was taking y’all’s money.” He smirks, stirring up an odd feeling inside of me. The night continues on, filled with chatter and laughs. A woman comes over, asking Bradley to dance. He glances at me, “Go! I’ll be fine.” I sit down, checking to see if Amelia has texted. I take a breath, I know he is perfectly fine and probably sleeping like an angel. Jake walks over to the table and holds out his hand, “C’mon, a pretty lady shouldn’t be sitting down when there’s a slow song playing.” I think for a second. He’s Bradley’s friend, so he’s probably just being nice. I would be lying if I didn’t say he is very, very attractive. Guilt gnaws at me and I push it down. I take his hand, “Why not.” He pulls me onto the floor and we two step. It has been so long since I have danced with an adult and I love this song. I hum along and Jake smiles, “Zach Bryan fan?” I nod, “I have his vinyl. Been trying to teach AJ how to dance.” Jake chuckles, “How’s he doing?” “Good, the height difference makes it pretty difficult.” He spins me around and pulls me back in. His cologne surrounds me, earthy and citrus. My focus is on his hand, holding my waist with a calm but steady force. “You liking it here?” “Mhmm. I get to see the beach everyday and it’s nice being closer to Roo.” He raises an eyebrow, “How is it that you know Rooster?” I look in his green eyes and see genuine curiosity. He doesn’t know. I clear my throat, “He was best friends with my husband.” Jake’s eyes are still curious, “Was?” Weirdly enough, the question doesn’t upset me, “Archer, my husband, passed away last year. He went through all of his training with Roo.” His face falls, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” I give him a small smile, “It is okay, you didn’t know.” Jake spins me again and finishes the dance with a dip, “Thank you for the dance, Y/n.” He grins from ear to ear. I blush and head back to the squad. Bradley rejoins the group and nudges my arm, “Saw you dancing.” “Oh hush, it was nothing.” Bradley chuckles, “If it was nothing then why are you smiling like that?” I elbow him, “Drop it.”

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The next morning, for the first time in a long time, I wake up in a great mood. I decide to take AJ to the beach. He cheers as I pack things into our car. I drive a few miles, until we reach a spot that isn’t too crowded. I set up a tent and AJ starts building sand castles. “Mommy, look! I made a tower like Tangled!” “Good job baby.” I lay beside him, picking out seashells for his castles. The waves crash on the shore. The smell of the ocean calms my soul. A southern accent brings me back down to Earth, “Y/n?” I look up to see Jake, shirtless and glistening. “Hey, Jake!” AJ looks up, “You were at my Uncle Mav’s house.” Jake leans down and smiles, “Yes sir. I work with Maverick.” AJ hums and keeps building, “Do you want to build sand castles with me?” “Oh honey, Jake is probably busy.” Jake shrugs, “I was just running. I would love to help you, buddy.” He gets down to AJ’s level and starts collecting sand. I smile as I watch him interact with my son. He could’ve kept going about his day, but he didn’t. Instead he is indulging a bossy 4 year old. Jake’s green eyes meet mine, “Funny running into you, I was just thinking about you.” I blush, hoping he doesn’t notice, “You were?” He nods, “I had fun last night.” “I did too.” AJ looks up from his castle, “A fun night? Did you watch a movie?” I chuckle, “No baby, but movies are fun!” Jake nudges him, “What’s your favorite movie?” AJ taps his chin for a moment, “Beauty and the Beast.” Jake raises an eyebrow, “Why’s that?” AJ shrugs, “Because my Mommy is just like Belle.” I smile at my son and Jake glances over at me, “Maybe we should watch it together sometime.” My eyes widen and AJ stands up, “Yes! At my new house! Mommy you need to buy popcorn.” I take a second, analyzing what just happened. Jake wants to spend more time with us? Watching a kids movie? The same odd feeling I had last night happens again. A weird feeling of warmth spreading through me. Jake leans closer, “I don’t want to overstep. You can always say no.” I take a breath, “Of course you can come over for a movie night.” AJ climbs on Jake’s back, “My bedtime is 8 so come over before that.” Jake chuckles, “Yes sir.” I look over at him, “I’m sure you have other plans on a Saturday night. It was already so kind of you to build castles with him.” Jake shrugs, “No other plans, besides what could be as fun as movie night with AJ?” They high-five and AJ starts dancing around, overjoyed by the evening’s new plans.

[pollyna]

More than once, when Bradley comes back from school, and later from the Academy and from deployment, to find his dads still wearing their uniform, cuddling on the couch, more asleep than awake. Most of the times dad is cuddling against the pops' side and pops arms around dad, but one, spectacular weirdo time (and he has the photos to prove that) pops was half lying on dad and half of his body was on precarious balance and a moment away from falling down, while dad was occupying half of the couch, a satisfied smile on his face and one hand between pops' hair.

[adelheidvonschicksal]

Frowny Face

Summary: Nobara and Itadori try to figure out the similarities between Megumi and his son. They manage to find that the infamous Zen'in frowny face is a dominant trait.

Tags: Megumi x F!Reader, Humor, Fluff, SFW, 1200 wc

Notes: I had this drafted for weeks. After seeing the epilogue and the grandkids, wish I had posted sooner, I felt there wasn't a more appropriate time for this. Happy belated-birthday 'gumi.

“No, no, look again, he definitely has his eyes,” Itadori points out.

Nobara lowers her face towards the baby currently blinking at the two of them from the comfort of his plush crib. Megumi stands off to the side, arms loosely crossed over his chest and an increasingly spreading scowl as his two friends, if he could call them that right now, poke and prod at his kid.

Nobara was the first one to point out how much his child was growing and starting to resemble his parents before noticing that his new emerging features leaned heavily to your side of the family, leading to this search to pick out their similarities.

“I’m not seeing it,” Nobara disagrees, failing to find the hint of dark blue that Itadori swears he can see in the baby’s right pupil. To her, all she can see is black all the way through both eyes, like the majority of the Zen’in clan geezers from those centuries old family books she helped Maki trash; unfortunately, this didn't include Megumi so they couldn't even count it. With a hand on her hip, she turns to Megumi. “Sheesh, he doesn’t resemble you at all. The misses really said copy and paste, huh?”  

Megumi huffs, about three seconds away from shooing them into the kitchen where you’re making dinner. That’s until Itadori pipes up, “Sure he does.” And for a second, Megumi thinks they’ll finally drop this silly discussion. “He has the same grumpy face his dad does.”

Megumi sighs. He should’ve known better.

“Now that you mention it,” Kugisaki can barely contain her laughter as she reaches into the crib and gently pinches a chubby cheek. Your son makes no expression at her playful squeeze or poke to his belly. His tiny legs kick the same way any other baby would when tickled, but the flat line on his face refuses to budge. “This is the least smiley baby I’ve ever seen,” she concludes while Itadori nods in agreement as he goes in to tickle the baby’s foot – just to make sure.

Megumi knows the two idiots don’t mean any harm by it, being the person to receive the brunt end of their jokes and observations over his life, the kind that can only be made out of innocent obliviousness and overconfidence, but he can’t help but feel more defensive when it’s his kid.

“Do you two have nothing better to do than to shame a baby?” he gripes. “It’s late, go home.”

“Oh, lighten up, we were only teasing. He’s adorable,” Nobara dismisses as she notes how much bigger her future-partner-in-crime has become over the past few months. Looking back on it, she can’t recall any time she’s heard him laugh or much of anything. Sure, she’s seen him get fussy while babysitting, but she’s rarely heard him cry. “But you have to admit he isn’t very expressive…for a baby,” she mentions with a hint of concern, concern that isn’t needed from Megumi’s point of view.

“Maybe you two just aren’t funny,” he says, watching the way Itadori attempts to get his son to laugh by making silly faces; it results in little more than a fist full of pink hair getting tugged.

“I’m being serious. I mean…” she tilts her head, trying to word it delicately. “Does he smile at all?”

Megumi nods. “He smiles.”

“Does he?” Itadori presses, craning his neck as he struggles to free his hair.

“He does,” Megumi repeats, his eyes softening at the memory of that innocent and joyful giggle he first heard like an unimaginable dream come true. “It’s just when you’re not around.”

Nobara rubs at the back of her neck apologetically. “Sorry. I didn’t mean any offense by it. He’s a good baby,” she compliments before moving to help free Itadori’s hair from his iron-like grip. “And strong too,” she adds, looks at him, and clicks her tongue when she once again fails to find the bit of blue Itadori mentioned earlier, but it provides an opportunity to cut through the awkwardness they unwittingly created. She fakes a sigh. “Unlike your genes. I don’t think they even had a battle plan.”

“Very funny,” he puffs out between their chuckles then he hears another voice coming from the direction of the kitchen.

“That’s not true,” you say as you pad into the room with a milk bottle in hand, the grin on your face trembling as you try not to laugh with them. “They have a lot in common.” You begin to list off on your fingers. “They both like the same fruit and animals, he really likes books when you read to him, and do you think his hair maintains itself?”

Nobara breathes out an "oh" at your explanation. “So, he gets mom's good looks to balance out dad's aloof personality? Makes sense."

Your resistance breaks as you let out a giggle, ignoring the pout on your husband’s face. “Are you guys staying for dinner?”

“No, we should really get going,” Nobara states with a small yawn. “Mission reports won’t write themselves.”

You nod, handing Megumi the bottle of milk as you walk the others to the door and wave them off.

“Have a good night,” Itadori calls out while Nobara makes you promise to phone her tomorrow and to come hang out if you’re free.

Locking the door, you walk back in and head towards the crib.

“You really shouldn’t entertain them when they get like that," Megumi reminds you.

“You know they only do it to mess with you. It’s how they show they like you.”

“You mean they’re idiots.”

“Yet you open the door right up every time they come over.”

Megumi gives you a doubtful look. “Not by choice. It’d be like trying to stop a rampaging bull from barging in,” Megumi states, and you let out an amused huff. 

No matter how much he complains and comments that they haven't changed one bit after leaving school, he enjoys them. You remember how excited he seemed when Itadori called to ask if it was okay to pop in since they were nearby. Well, excited in that he immediately started to straighten out the house even though he had already cleaned earlier that morning. It's cute little quirks that often gives him away and the ones that make you like him even more.

“If it makes you feel better, I think you have a great personality and good looks,” you compliment with a brush of your hand over his hair. You look down at your son, who still seem unmoved by all the events of the evening. It makes you laugh because Nobara and Itadori were right. Your son does have Megumi’s ever-dull facial expression. 

“And both my boys have the cutest frowny faces,” you say, holding up your son to your face to nuzzle his nose. As you pull him away, your eyes brighten at the wide smile that flashes on his face followed by a warm giggle. “Hello to you too,” you coo and cuddle him again, causing another fit of giggles to fill the room, and the sound resonates in his chest and makes him forget any problems that arose on the way to getting to this point in his life.

“You forgot to tell them one thing,” Megumi says, coming forward to kiss your temple. As he told the others, his son does smile, and Megumi does too. “They both smile when they see mommy.”

[bbokicidal]

"You're So Much Alike." - [B.C.]

Summary: Where you meet his mother for the first time and capture a picture that you will treasure for years to come.

Warnings: None, just a lotta fluff.

Notes: Based on the photo above where Chris recreated his childhood picture w/ his mom.

"When was this?" Your eyes turn to your boyfriend beside you and his head tips in your direction, eyes following only a moment later. A bright smile is plastered on his face as he was previously having a conversation with his mom to the opposite side of himself.

His teeth grit as his lips pull apart in a quiet hiss of thought. "Ah... Mm." His lips press together, brows furrowing as he looks at the picture. "Think I was.. four? Three? Three or four." He nods curtly, eyes drawing up to where you stare at him. ".... What?"

Your smile grows the longer you peer up at him. He doesn't seem to realize how absolutely adorable the photo currently in your hand is. "Nothing. I just love you."

Chan's eyes wander over your own before he giggles, his hand falling to rest on your knee. "I love you too, sweetheart."

"Oh, I was so young here." His mother reaches for the photo, gently taking it from your hand to look down at it. The look on her face seems to say without words that it brings back wonderful memories she couldn't ever forget.

"Please," You murmur, catching her attention with a soft smile. "You look the exact same, Mrs. Bang."

It was kind of his mother to offer to show you baby photos of him. You hadn't necessarily expected it during your first meeting with her, but she seemed more than excited to show you the silly pictures of Chan in the bath, or pictures of him covered in birthday cake when he was two years old. He'd gotten a bit embarrassed at the bath pictures, begging his mother not to show them to you before she countered back with; "What? She's seen it all before anyway!"

And you couldn't argue with that, laughing along as you squeeze his hand in your own. "I mean, she isn't wrong."

You felt incredibly lucky to be able to tag along on this opportunity - visiting Australia with Chan for the first time. The majority of the day is spent relaxing at his family home and getting to know his family; Unfortunately Lucas and Hannah are with their friends, which you can't fault them for, but you get to spend the day with his parents. And Berry, of course.

Their pup seems to take a love to you, following you around instead of sticking to Chan. She sits at your feet while you lean against the kitchen counter and watch his father cook lunch for the group of you; And she treads only a foot or two behind you as you move to dance with Chan's mother in the dining room to the soft music that plays through the house. The room is filled with laughter and the soft banter she exchanges with you on how she may have to steal you from her son with just how charming you are.

Lunch is quiet and soothing, bodies filled with warm home cooked food and Chan's mother asking just how the two of you met - where you saw yourself in ten years, what kind of career you were interested in, and how you felt about her son. Typical first meeting types of questions - But, she seems happy with all of your answers and while you aren't looking, shares an exchanged glance with her son that is telling him to marry you.

It ends as you excuse yourself from the table and move to help Chan at the sink, washing the dishes from preparing the meal and drying them off as he handed them to you. He smiles at you helping him out, about to tell you to go shoo so he can take care of it himself and let you relax. His eyes wander in your direction as you suddenly ask if his father needs another wife - widening in surprise and whispering a soft, "Excuse me?" in shock.

"What? He's literally you but a little older!"

"Are you tryna marry my dad right now--"

-

His father excuses himself from the home about an hour later, something work related beckoning him away. His mother suggests a walk around the park Chan use to run about in when he was little and you eagerly agree, wanting to see more of the local scenery. It's pleasant, a breeze wafting through your hair and brushing over your shoulders as you go. Berry's leash is held careful but firm in your palm and she treads nearby, tail wagging in excitement at just being out.

Without being fully aware of it, you'd fallen behind the mother-and-son duo after being caught up in admiring the nature around you. As your eyes draw back to the pair ahead, you stop walking and Berry takes a few more steps before halting as well. She turns to look up at you in curiosity and when you crouch down, she comes closer to rub her nose against your arm. Hand digging in your pocket, you pull out your phone and let the pair continue walking without disturbing them. Lifting your phone to snap a photo, the picture on your screen looks lovingly familiar to one you had seen earlier.

Chan seemed extremely grateful when you showed him the picture later on - and his mother even more so that evening. His father peeked over her shoulder before gently giving the woman a shake of admiration, hugging her around the waist shortly after. "Jessica, you don't look a day over thirty." And she laughs, swatting at his arm.

Your eyes dart to Chan's and he blinks, meeting your gaze a moment later. Your eyes narrow. "Why am I just now finding out that your mom's name is Jessica?"

[miumura]

WAiTiN’ ON CALLS — S. JAEYUN 𓂃 ⭑

( 엔하이픈 제이크 ) : jake misses you — too much for his own liking. he tries to move on, and by doing so, he gives you one last call. usually it would go directly to voicemail, but instead, he was greeted with you on the other line.

──── ex!jake x gn ! r . . . ⌕ ex 2 lovers, second chance, angst, fluff ∿ 𝔀ord count 2.1K+ ( 2196 ) ╱ HAPPY BF JAKE DAY 🤍 i’ve been dying to write a fic using this pic of jake ever since it got posted … so this is for me and my jake baes 🤍

Jake knew he was beyond exhausted—so tired that all he could manage after work was to head straight for his bed, not even bothering to take off his suit.

But despite the dim lighting and the comfort of sinking into his mattress, sleep refused to come. He tossed and turned, tried counting sheep, but nothing worked. Frustrated, he sat up, turning on the radio to a soft, quiet tune as he stared at his phone.

He already knew what was on his mind.

His gaze settled on his contact list, focusing on one name—yours.

He missed you, more than he cared to admit. His eyes lingered on your icon, a picture he’d secretly taken during one of your dates. You’d demanded he delete it, but he never did. Instead, he kept it as a reminder of you, proudly showing it off whenever he got the chance.

A small, bittersweet smile crept onto his lips as his eyes trailed down to your name, the ache in his chest growing a little heavier.

My Love. He never bothered changing it—that name was reserved for you, and only you. Was it strange for him to keep it that way? He wasn't sure, but what he did know was that no matter what, you’d always be his love, even if he was the only one who still believed it.

Should he call you again?

His finger hovered over your name, hesitating—a rare feeling for him. He’d always called before, whenever he had a free moment. It was supposed to be a one-time thing, just a way to clear his head, but it had become a habit. Strangely enough, he found relief in those calls. They always went straight to voicemail, and he was certain you never listened to them.

That’s where he poured his heart out, leaving messages that no one would hear. It was sad, but in a way, comforting—like shouting into the void, knowing there'd be no echo, no response.

He often wondered why you hadn’t blocked him yet. Maybe, if you did, it would finally force him to move on.

Maybe that would give him the push he needed to let go.

But deep down, he knew it wasn’t that simple. He was the one holding onto the past, the one clinging to old habits. Why did he think calling you, of all things, would help him get over you? Even if someone asked him, he wouldn’t know how to explain it.

Maybe he didn’t really want to.

Maybe, just maybe, he was still hoping for something—anything—from you.

He just wanted to hear your voice again, even though it felt impossible at this point. Pressing his lips together, he finally tapped the call button. Placing the phone on his thigh, Jake ran a hand through his hair, unable to look at the screen as the rings buzzed in the quiet room.

As usual, he fully expected you wouldn’t answer.

Normally, the sting of disappointment would hit him when you let his calls go unanswered, but tonight felt different. Tonight, everything was going to change.

This would be the last time he stared at your contact, the last time he pressed your number, and the last voicemail he'd leave. Tonight, he was finally going to say goodbye.

Tonight—

"Hello?"

His body went still.

For a moment, Jake couldn’t believe it. Your voice, so familiar yet distant, cut through the static of the call. He had rehearsed this moment over and over in his mind, but now that it was real, his words were trapped in his throat.

"Jake?" you repeated, sounding confused, maybe even concerned. "Are you there?"

He swallowed, trying to collect himself. "Hey," he finally managed, his voice barely a whisper. "I... I didn’t expect you to pick up."

There was a brief silence on the other end, making his heart race, before you spoke again. "I didn’t expect to get so many calls... or all the voicemails."

"You... you listened to them?" he asked, barely able to believe it.

“Caught up on all of it yesterday,” you admitted, your voice surprisingly calm. “You really sent a lot, huh?”

Jake’s heart was pounding so loudly that it drowned out his own thoughts. He couldn’t believe this was happening. The plan to say goodbye, the resolution he had built up in his mind, seemed to dissolve the moment he heard your voice.

He didn’t want to mess this up—he couldn’t.

“I still didn’t expect you to actually listen to them,” he said, his voice shakier than he wanted it to be.

“How could I not?” you chuckled softly, attempting to ease the awkward tension. It was strange, both of you knew it. Talking to your ex, someone you swore you’d never contact again, felt surreal.

And yet, here you were—on the phone, waiting for him to say something more.

Jake took a breath, the weight of his next words heavy on his chest. "I was planning on this being the last call,” he confessed. “Since you never really picked up... I figured I was just bothering you."

There was a pause on the other end, and he held his breath, wondering what you’d say next.

"Would it be wrong to say I had a feeling?" you finally replied, voice soft.

"How could you tell?"

"Just... a gut feeling," you said, as if searching for the right words. "Or maybe because… I knew you."

His heart couldn’t help but falter—he knew you were not lying. You did know him, deeply once. But that closeness had slipped away when life had led you down different paths.

"Yeah," was all he could muster, the simplicity of the word masking the storm of emotions within him. He wasn’t sure how to move forward, or if he even wanted to.

“Do you mean every single voice message?” you asked, breaking the silence that had settled between you two. Jake’s eyes widened, caught off guard by the question.

“Of course I do,” he replied, gripping his phone tightly, as if it could somehow bridge the distance between you. His heart was pounding; he needed to make this count. “There isn’t a single thing I’ve sent to you that I’d ever want to take back. Every word was real. It’s exactly how I feel about you... about us.”

For a moment, vulnerability hung between you, both knowing this conversation could change everything. Jake could only hope you’d feel it too, that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to turn this into something more.

“Come see me then.”

“Huh?” Jake’s breath hitched, unsure if he’d heard you right.

“You’re not going to leave me hanging this time, are you?” you asked with a light chuckle, though your voice held a hint of nervousness. You hoped the laughter would mask how your heart was pounding, racing in anticipation.

Jake barely registered the words before he was scrambling to grab his keys, his phone pressed tightly to his ear. “Not this time,” he stammered, his voice shaking with excitement and a touch of panic. He could feel his pulse hammering as he fumbled with his shoes, trying to keep his hands steady.

The thought of seeing you, of finally closing the distance he’d been feeling for so long, filled him with both anticipation and nervous energy.

"Take your time," you teased, though he could hear the faintest tremor in your voice, as if you were trying to calm yourself, too. But he knew he wouldn’t—couldn’t—wait.

He barely managed to lock his door, nearly tripping as he rushed down the stairs. His mind raced, playing over every word, every message he’d sent, wondering if this was finally his chance to make things right.

As he reached his car, hands fumbling for his keys, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus, to drive safely. But his heart wouldn’t slow, each beat pushing him forward with a desperate urgency.

Jake barely remembered the drive over, his mind racing faster than the car itself. As he pulled up in front of your house, he felt a fresh wave of nerves settle over him. He sat there for a second, gripping the steering wheel, trying to steady his breath.

This was it.

With a final deep breath, he stepped out of the car and walked up the path to your door, his heart pounding with every step. He hesitated before raising his hand to knock, his mind swirling with questions.

But before he could overthink it, the door swung open, and there you were, standing there in the soft glow of your porch light. For a split second, neither of you spoke, caught up in the quiet intensity of the moment.

“Hi,” you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips, though he could see the same nervousness reflected in your eyes. “Still in your work attire?”

Jake looked down, realizing for the first time that he was still in his slightly rumpled shirt and loosened tie, his rushed appearance suddenly feeling a bit ridiculous. He let out a small, embarrassed laugh, reaching up to grab his tie as if he could somehow hide it from you. But when he looked back up, he wore a shy smile, his eyes creasing in that gentle way that had always made your heart skip.

Before he could say anything else, you stepped closer, reaching up to fix his tie, your fingers brushing against the fabric with a delicate touch that sent a shiver down his spine. He swallowed, feeling his pulse quicken. It was such a simple gesture, yet it felt like slipping back into something deeply familiar, a memory that had never truly faded.

“There,” you murmured softly as you adjusted the tie, smoothing out the collar. Your hand lingered for just a second longer, and in that moment, Jake felt everything—the unspoken words, the history, the quiet yearning.

“Thank you,” he managed, his voice a little rough.

"I didn’t realize you wanted to see me that badly… especially after just finishing your shift,” you said with a hint of surprise. “You’ve always loved your job.”

Jake let out a small, wistful laugh, meeting your gaze. “Even after a long shift, that isn’t enough to distract me from you,” he admitted. You both knew how deeply he was dedicated to his work, how it had once been the thing that drew him away from you, consuming his time and energy. Something he loved had taken his real love away from him. But he couldn’t dwell on regrets now, not when this chance was standing right in front of him.

“Every time I get back from work, I have to leave a voicemail,” he confessed quietly, his words hanging between you both.

“Every night?” you asked, startled. You hadn’t realized just how much he’d been reaching out in those messages, hadn’t counted the days it had spanned. “That’s… a lot, Jake.”

He nodded, his gaze steady and sincere. “There hasn’t been a single day I haven’t thought about you, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice raw with honesty.

You looked at him, noticing how he pressed his lips together, a nervous habit he’d never quite outgrown. His hair was neatly parted, and his suit fit him perfectly, accentuating the small changes time had brought to him. Somehow, he looked even better than you remembered—or maybe it was simply because you’d missed him more than you’d realized.

“Jake,” you murmured, almost as if testing his name again, letting it fill the space between you both. “I really missed you too.”

At your words, Jake’s face lit up, his cheeks lifting with a smile he couldn’t contain, no matter how hard he tried to keep his composure. He quickly looked away, clearing his throat, but when he turned back, his grin only grew wider as he saw your own smile mirroring his.

“Then… would you let me stay the night?” he asked softly, his voice hopeful, though almost immediately he seemed to second-guess himself. His smile faltered as he began to backpedal, a nervous laugh escaping. “Or, if that’s too much, we could just sit outside, or… in my car? Just to talk, to catch up—or maybe just to let me finally say all these things I’ve kept hidden.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, finding his nervous rambling unexpectedly endearing. It was hard to remember the last time you’d seen Jake like this—unsure, almost shy. Without another word, you reached out and grabbed his arm, gently tugging him inside.

“You can stay,” you said, a warmth in your voice that eased the lingering tension in the air.

Jake blinked in surprise, his nervous expression melting into something more tender as he stepped inside. The familiar warmth of your home wrapped around him, but it was the simple presence of you that truly eased him. He hadn’t realized how much he'd longed for this—just to be near you again.

As he looked at you, a quiet realization washed over him, clear and undeniable. He wasn’t just here because he needed to be; he was here because he wanted to be.

Wherever you were, that was where he wanted to be too.

‘💬’ ─── may active soph come back after this one 😖!

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

[dcxdpdabbles]

Cluster of Cores Part 4

Holiday request: cluster of cores x2 please! I love all your writing

Roy helps Danny into the living room, mindful of the two sleeping babes strapped to his chest in a nested sling. Once he's sure Danny has cleared the entrance, he sidesteps them, rushing toward the big swivel loveseat sofa they had just purchased.

It's large enough that the two could sit comfortably and pill up the pillows that were to Dani's demand of fluff. The thing spins, and has a nice little backrest that Danny can both sit and lay down. In the first few months, the twins will need a nest to grow in, and Dani has been cleared that the circular couch will be perfect.

Danny makes a tiny little noise of happiness when he settles in the middle of it. Roy is quick to pile the fluffiest throw blanket across his lap. Jason helps him lean back while Danny carefully holds the head of the newborns.

According to the humans ' medical knowledge, his children, Dan and Danika, have a clean bill of health. The trio had been released after a five-day stay- all expenses paid by Tim Drake- undergoing tests and observations.

Thankfully, for all intentions and purposes, the twins were fine.

They were sleeping in his arms, having just finished feeding off of Danny's ectoplasm. The young alien seemed confused when a nurse handed him a bottle, but when they explained the usage of it, the young Indigenous Daxamite opened the bottle and weakly poured a green liquid from the palm of his hand.

The babies enthusiastically launched onto the bottles, and Danny could not look away from them. The coma had turned him so weak that he needed one of those feeding pillows, unable to hold them in his trembling arms for too long.

But they were perfect. Roy thought it was adorable how his eyes shone as he stared at his children. During visiting hours, Dani spent most of her time leaning on her father's side, a feeding pillow on her lap, and being a miniature version of Danny.

The alien had even chosen a last name, claiming it was the closest thing in English. Surprisingly, what the Daxamite considered a lost language was what humans considered English.

The Fentons were now welcomed guests in the Todd-Wayne household. They will stay there alongside Roy and Lian until they reach their feet.

It was a shock to find out Danny was a teenager in Daxamite terms, just as much as a he was in human terms. Having three children, a five-year-old and twin newborns, will be difficult for the teenager to raise on his own.

Roy offered him complete support, deciding he would be his rock through every milestone the children needed. It was the least he could do for the person responsible for his daughter's safety.

"Are you comfortable?" Roy asks. Danny offers him a weak smile, nodding. His eyes, however, return to his children as though he is checking to see if they are real.

He can't help but smile warmly at the alien. "Is there anything you need?"

Danny thinks it over, hunching his shoulder slightly when he requests. "Fudge? My Dad would make me some when I was incubating the eggs."

Roy snaps his phone out of his pocket, pressing the speed dial to Oliver. The archer snaps into the speaker before the blond can greet him, "Fudge. Send me the most expensive and delicious fudge you have."

"Yes, of course." Oliver's answer is just as serious and as fast. "I'll have it there within thirty minutes."

Roy's voice softens when he turns back to Danny. "Is there anything else you like?"

The alien blinks his wide blue eyes at him, considering the question carefully before whispering. "Blankets? For Dan and Danika?"

Roy nods, face turning hard as stone when he returns to his phone. "Baby blankets. The softest ones you can find. Have the names Dan and Danika sewed into the blankets. One lilac, the other easter green.'

"It will be done," Oliver promises before hanging up the phone. Roy turns back to the bewildered Danny, then, as soft as spring rain, smiles at him.

"They should be here in about thirty minutes. If there is anything else you want, let Jason or me know."

"Um," Danny curls slightly inwards, holding the babies against his chest. Dan makes a bit of a fuss, wiggling around, but with one quick bottle grab, Danny has him resettle. Danika wiggles a bit, whimpering a little, but the Daxamite bounces his knee a little, moving the pillow under her.

This causes a soft rocking motion that quickly helps her calm down. Roy is mightily impressed that Danny already knows what to do as a new father. When Lian was born, he struggled to figure out all her different cries for weeks.

Dan slurps his bottle with his virgor, his soft tuff of hair shifting into a little flame. Danika makes a slight movement like newborns do when attempting to turn in the direction of their voices.

She seems comfortable facing her little head toward Danny before she settles into a nap. Apparently, as an ice core, she didn't need as much ectoplasm as Dan did. His son needed more help stabilizing in his environment through the help of his father before he was big enough to do it himself.

Roy was so happy Danny had woken. It would be a nightmare trying to figure everything out on their own. Roy's eyes fall to the bag resting on Danny's left side, nested comfortably among the pillows. Inside are the remaining eggs that are carefully waiting for the day they hatch.

He hopes it will take some time. Twins were already hard to manage, even with Roy's and Jason's help.

"Danny!" Dani yells, running into the room with a faint doll. "I brought Danika her first Earth toy!"

"Maybe when she's bigger." Danny laughs, one hand holding the bottle up for his son and the other carefully tracing the features of his new daughter. "She may like to make ice sculptures of it someday."

Dani beams, looking much brighter since the day Roy had met her. "I can teach her how!"

"Me too!" Lian shouts, jumping up and down, growing as excited as the Daxamites seem to gain a little glow around them. Roy's widens, turning away from the group to press the next speed dial on his phone.

"Yes?" Jason's modified voice sends a burst of excitement down his spine, but he squishes it. He needs to remind himself that for all the feelings he has for the other man, they aren't lovers. It likely won't ever be.

"Buy better blinds. Danny glows"

It is a testament to how long they know each other when all Jason responds with is a very serious "Of course. I'll bring some milk, too."

Distantly, he hears one of Jason's goons ask. "Is that the boss's boyfriend?"

"I thought they were married with kids?"

Roy hands up before he has a heart attack.

[pboogerswbb]

LET IT SNOW

Paige Bueckers x reader In which Paige and reader spend a snowy day babysitting reader's niece and nephew (loosely based on a request i got weeks ago) Warnings: fluff, suggestiveish? very very very sweet, will make you sick (fluff is very hard for me to write ok be nice) Wordcount: 2.9K A/C: happy christmas eve everyone <3 this is my christmas present to y'all so enjoy this while i take some time to rest and spend time with my family :) unfortunately that means you gotta wait for chapter 2 of so it goes for a little longer but i want to take a break for a few days from writing over christmas! i hope you understand. everyone who celebrates christmas pls spend it eating, drinking (if you're of age), and don't kill your family pls (i know that's much to ask over the holidays let's be real). i'll return to writing so it goes post christmas! MERRY CHRISTMAS GUYS <3

-

“There’s a list of allergies on the fridge, if Mia throws a fit just put her in the stroller and walk her around for a bit, if she won’t calm down call me. Whatever you see in the fridge you can eat, and call me whenever! I’ll have my ringer up and-”

“Chloe-”

“and really call me whenever you need to! And have your ringer up too!”

“Chloe!”

Your aunt’s husband is pulling on her arm, trying to get her further than the front door but 10 minutes have already been spent going through everything for the day.

“Auntie Chlo we’ve babysat before. They’re in good hands,” you reassure, smiling brightly at her. She inhales deeply and chuckles when she realises how long she’s been rambling for.

“You’re right, the kids love you. Especially you Paige, they’ve missed you. Been showing them clips of your games!” Your aunt says, head tilting upwards to look at the blonde girl standing behind you, hands wrapped around your waist. 

You and Paige had been dating for over a year now, celebrating your first of what would be many anniversaries. In that short amount of time the blonde had made her way into the depths of your closest circle, becoming a part of your family. It happened effortlessly, the way she fit into your life, the way she clicked with your relatives. You swore they loved her more than you at this point. This was about to be the first Christmas she ever spent with your family, and just the idea of her with all your loved ones made your chest fill with warmth.

So when your aunt Chloe called you in a crisis on Christmas Eve, her babysitter getting sick at the last minute, you and Paige were quick to agree to look after your nearly 2-year-old niece Mia and 7-year-old nephew Leo. 

“Go! We got this aight,” Paige reassures, resting her chin on the top of your head as she does.

Pulled away by her husband, your auntie waves goodbye and closes the door, leaving you and Paige alone with the kids standing behind you. Before you can even react, Mia’s lower lip begins to quiver, the sight of her mother gone upsetting the small child. 

“Uh oh,” you mumble, Paige swiftly making her way to the little girl and picking her up, pouting her own lower lip to mirror the child.

“Are you sad because you miss mama? She’ll be back later, I promise,” Paige coos to Mia, rocking her in her arms. She’s wearing a white t-shirt despite the snow outside, for some reason she was always warm, and her biceps were growing more prominent as she held the child by her hip. The sight of Paige comforting your niece made your heart flutter, making it hard to tear your eyes away. watching Mia bury her face into the crook of Paige’s neck.

“We’ve got a really fun day planned for you!” You gleam at both of the children, ruffling Leo’s hair. He laughs but pushes your hand off, running to the kitchen.

“Can I have a cookie?” The boy asks, clearly taking advantage of the moment that his parents’ watchful eyes weren’t around.

“No-” you start but Paige is already following him to the kitchen. She was such a pushover, always had been with the kids. Just some pouting, eyes batting and she was ready to bend every which way for them.

“Paige!” You complain as the blonde easily reaches to the top shelf, grabbing a jar of chocolate chip cookies.

“What?” She asks unbothered by your scolding, handing a cookie to Leo, and taking a bite of one herself. “Wanted a cookie,” she mumbles, her mouth full.

“Cookie! Gimme!” Mia babbles, short hands reaching for the cookie your girlfriend is holding between her teeth.

“Oh good God…” you groan, rubbing your forehead, already knowing this was going to be a long day if the kids had the blonde wrapped around their finger this much already. But when Mia giggles as Paige feeds her a part of the cookie, you decide not to care. If there was a time to spoil the kids it was on Christmas Eve.

“C’mere,” Paige nods you over, grabbing another cookie. You scurry into the kitchen, grabbing Mia from her and kissing the little girl’s forehead. She giggles brightly, clearly in a much better mood. You nuzzle your nose into her soft cheek, eliciting more laughs from the baby. The whole time Paige can’t look away even for a second, her heart fluttering with affection. Paige was completely in love with you, and seeing you like this only made her feel it more.

“What are we gonna dooo all day?” Leo interrupts the moment, yanking on Paige’s shirt. She grins and ruffles his hair affectionately. Leo and Paige had bonded quickly the first time they met, and now they’re best friends. In fact Leo facetimes Paige weekly on your aunt’s phone.

“We’ve got some ideas.” The blonde says smirking.

-

The weather is perfect, the gentle winter sun not warming but making everything brighter as the rays reflect off the snow. Snowflakes fall softly from the sky, adding to the already covered ground as you walk behind Leo and Paige, holding Mia in your arms, trying to catch your breath as you climb on top of a hill.

“Isn’t this high enough?” You ask, glancing down, worrying that Leo would be too scared to get on the sled. Predictably so, the two in front of you look over their shoulders, immediately uttering the word “no” in unison

“Auntie Paigey and your big brother have gone cray cray,” you murmur to the babbling Mia, wrapped in her warmest winter gear. 

“Okay, here’s good!” Paige says, finally putting the sled she was carrying down, looking around the group.

“You wanna go first Leo?”

Suddenly the boy looks down, hesitating. It’s pretty steep, especially at first. You could tell he felt unsure, but Paige noticed it too.

“I’m actually lowkey scared, can we ride down together?” She asks, covering for the boy. For a moment your eyes meet with hers, wanting nothing more but to kiss her right now. Paige always had you weak in the knees, but the way she skillfully handled kids only made you love her more.

“Okay we can go together I guess,” Leo complains, deep down relieved. They sit down on the sled, Paige behind the boy, ready to steer.

“Wait!” She yelps, turning to you, blinking fast. “Kiss for good luck.”

Apparently she’d been feeling the same about the kiss.

Humming, you place Mia down on the ground to play with the snow, leaning close to Paige. Her warm lips press into yours, in a loving, gentle peck that let you know she wanted to do so much more, if it wasn’t for the company.

“Yuck!” Leo whines, making both of you giggle.

“Hey, have some respect for your auntie,” Paige grins and pushes the sled forward. Suddenly they’re riding down at such speed you can barely watch. Someone was bound to get hurt.

Both of them scream as the speed accelerates, the sounds echoing in the air. To your surprise they both make it all the way down safe and sound, Paige stopping the sled and jumping off.

“That was so fast!” Leo chuckles hysterically, making your girlfriend laugh too. You could hear them laughing all the way up where you were standing. 

“Ball,” Mia babbles, pointing at a pile of snow. Giggling, you sit down on the ground next to her, beginning to roll one snowball after the other and handing them to the girl. 

“Look Mia!” You gasp to get her attention. Her wide eyes turn to you, long eyelashes fluttering as she watches. You throw a snowball into the air, Mia’s eyes following as it crashes to the ground. Immediately she claps, a wide smile on her face to reward your efforts.

“Babe it’s your turn,” Paige’s voice says as she’s climbing up, trying to catch her breath.

You scoff, continuing to play with the snow for Mia. “Not happening P,”

“Oh you’re scared huh?” The blonde teases, a smug smirk spreading across her face.

Leo gasps. “It’s not scary at all! I was scared at first too!”

You roll your eyes, not falling for their games. 

“I’m playing with my girl here, you boys leave us alone,” you say, poking your tongue out at your girlfriend. She scoffs loud, walking over to you and wrapping her arms around your waist, lifting you up and throwing you over her shoulder with ease.

Leo laughs loud, pointing at the two of you. “Paige is not a boy!”

“Let me down!” You yelp, kicking your legs and arms but it’s no use. She’s much too strong, carrying you towards the sled. Your squeals make Mia laugh loudly, a wide smile spread on her face.

“Look after your sis for a bit, aight?” Paige tells Leo, placing you down on the sled. You’re still giggling, shaking your head.

“I’m not gonna! It’s scary!” You laugh, the blonde sitting snug behind you on the sled, wrapping her legs around you.

“Don’t be such a wuss,” she teases, her arms wrapping over your waist. Leaning in, you feel her hot air tickling against your ear as she whispers. “I gotchu ma, don’t worry.”

With that, Paige pushes off the snowy ground, holding onto you tight. Quickly the speed picks up, fluttering in the pit of your stomach. The freezing cold air tingles against your skin and your eyes water from the cold as you laugh.

“Ahhh P-“ you scream, turning your gaze backwards and finding that, to your shock, the blonde behind you is pushing on the ground to make you go even faster. “STOP!”

Paige giggles into your ear, her arms wrapping around you tight to hold you close. Soon it’s over as you reach the base of the hill, the speed finally slowing down and flutters in your abdomen disappearing.

“Told you it wasn’t so scary,” the blonde grins, helping you up.

“Uh yes it was,” you laugh, grabbing a handful of snow and throwing it at the girl in front of you. Some of it gets onto her face, making Paige pause.

Her mouth turns into a tight smile and her blue eyes widen. Immediately you know you’re in trouble.

“Oh it’s like that huh?” She says and you squeal, already beginning to run when she starts to throw the powdery snow all over you.

“No no no no please!” You can barely breathe, gasping for air and trying to run, the snowy ground making your steps heavy. Paige, being a D1 athlete, easily reaches you. 

“Oh so now you regret it!” She laughs, snow falling into your coat, down your neck, making you scream louder as the girl chasing you wraps her arms around your waist, spinning you in the air. 

“Stop! Paige!”

“Say please,” she orders, her tone lighthearted.

You roll your eyes, hating having to admit defeat, but knowing it must be done.

“Fine! Please, please stop Paige please,” you whine, batting your wide eyes at the girl. She looks at you, finally putting you down and kissing your forehead.

“Wanna hear you just like that later,” she whispers the dirty words into your ear, lips brushing against your skin, tingling. Before you can scoff or tell her off, Mia’s loud cry disrupts the moment.

Both you and Paige hurry up the hill, towards Leo who’s holding his sister, bouncing him gently to soothe the little girl.

“What happened?” You ask, swiftly scooping Mia from the boy and trying her cheeks to see if she was cold. Nope, perfectly toasty from all the layers.

“Nothing! She just started crying!”

But then, studying her face, you notice the redness of her eyes, her mittened hands trying to rub them desperately.

“Aw, she’s sleepy,” Paige says, like reading your mind, grabbing the sled. 

“We should probably head back, she needs to take a nap,” you murmur, trying to soothe the girl in your arms, ear-piercing screams and cries spilling from her mouth.

All four of you hurry to the car, but no attempts to calm Mia down help. She’s exhausted, plump bottom lip quivering as she keeps crying the whole drive home. You could feel yourself getting exhausted, the loud noise becoming overwhelming and stressful. Paige could see it too, the way you were sighing and taking deep breaths. So when you return to the house, she grabs your hand and kisses it before getting up from the car.

“I’ll take her to bed okay? You rest ma,” she murmurs. Relief spreads all over your chest and you smile affectionately.

“How’d I get so lucky?” You ask.

“Nah, I’m lucky. Got the best girl in the entire world.

-

After an hour of the faint sounds of Paige’s lullabies (off-key but she would never admit that) and trying to reason with the 2-year-old like that might help, the cries eventually quiet down. Leo is resting too, playing in his room. You’ve been in the kitchen, making spaghetti for all of you. Checking the clock you realise it’s been about 30 minutes since you last heard any sound from Mia, yet Paige still hadn’t returned downstairs.

Quietly, you sneak your way up the stairs, ever so carefully opening the door into the bedroom to not wake up Mia. But what you find makes your heart flutter - in the dimmed out room, Paige and Mia are both asleep, your girlfriend holding the little girl close. The blonde’s mouth is slightly ajar, soft snores escaping through. For a moment you just watch, allowing the love you felt for them both to spread. You walk over, make sure they’re both covered up by the blanket before sneaking back out, leaving them in bed.

“Leo, come eat dinner soon, ok?” You whisper to him in the other room. His eyes lighting up, the little boy gets up holding a toy dinosaur and follows you downstairs.

“Can I watch The Grinch while I eat? Please please please!” He begs, giving you puppy eyes.

“Mmkay, just this once,” you bend to his will, setting it all up for him. You can’t help but watch Leo getting snuggled up on the couch, a blanket around him, eyes wide staring at the TV. Leaning against the arch into the living room, you feel your body tired from the day, muscles aching and mind exhausted. But your insides are fluttering with warmth, no other word for the specific feeling but pure joy. Walking back into the kitchen you begin to make your own plate of food.

You let your mind wonder, and maybe it’s risky. It’s much too soon to be thinking anything close to it. But since it’s Christmas, you let yourself. Your mind comes up with vivid images of you and Paige, in a house of your own, decorating the tree - Paige the only one tall enough to place the star on top. You can see you two baking cookies and watching Christmas movies, hot chocolate in bed. 

And maybe, just maybe eventually, two children of your own. There are flutters in your heart thinking about building snowmen with your little family, roasting marshmallows in the fireplace, dressing them up in tiny costumes and sending family postcards to your relatives and friends. It felt so far away, yet you could see it so vividly. 

As if she had heard your thoughts, suddenly warm hands land on your waist, Paige’s reflection appearing in the window in front of you. Humming, her front presses flush to your back, fitting against you just right.

“I fell asleep,” she murmurs, burying her nose into your hair and inhaling. It’s like heaven, after a long day, to feel her like this again.

“I noticed,” you reply, beginning to make a plate for the girl as well. She watches closely, following every movement from behind you until her lips find your neck, beginning to press soft, loving kisses along the nape of it. 

Eyes fluttering shut, you hum, turning your head to face the blonde behind you. Hand reaching for your jaw, she pulls you into a gentle kiss, lips sliding against yours slowly. “Can’t wait to see you be a mom,” Paige whispers against your mouth, chest heaving.

A deep blush sets on your cheeks hearing the words, taking them in. The blonde watches your reaction, clearly trying to read you.

“I’m sorry if that’s too much to say this early but I-”

“No,” you shake your head with a smile. “I can’t wait for that either.”

Relief washes over your girlfriend, as she pecks your lips once more. 

“We’re gonna be so good ma, best parents in the world.”

Beaming with joy, both you and Paige walk into the living room where Leo is sitting, eyes glued to the movie.

“Yo! Scooch!” Paige tells the boy, who shuffles to the corner of the couch. Both you and your girlfriend sit in the opposite corner, holding your bowls of spaghetti and getting settled. The blonde quickly wraps an arm around you, pulling you to lean against her side. You’re snuggled up, feeding bites of food to each other and stealing kisses whenever the boy isn't watching.

“I love you,” Paige whispers into your ear, blue eyes sparkling with adoration.

���I love you too Paige,” you whisper back, cheeks rosy and heart fluttering from the perfect snowy day.

-

taglist: @xxloveralways14 @bueckersfive @sierrale8ne @thaatdigitaldiary @lovegalor333 @lupinqs @rosemariiaa @janaelalfysblunt @d3arapril @vamptizm

[madwomansapologist]

ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ a hound left without a leash

★彡 synopsis: your love is constant, ever-present and ever-growing. toji finds it endearing. how you're not afraid of being soft around him. but he can’t be like that. his love isn't gentle and quiet like yours: it's remorseless, made of sharp fangs soaked in blood—five times toji felt loved by you, five times he loved you back.

content warnings: established relationship, fluff & angst & smut, domesticity, movie night, toji is soooo in love it's embarrassing, touch starved meet clingy, he's bad at feelings don't give him space, devotion, beach date, hurt/comfort, his love language is acts of service it's not his fault he only knows how to kill, violence (not towards reader), gaslight if you squint, voyeurism, sex toy, manhandling, lots of spit and bites and scratches, creampie, cockwarming.

bella's note: inspired by the song valentine by laufey. y'all say thank you, @gothsuguru for making like three posts about toji that reminded me of my love for this deadbeat killer.

word count: [4.3K]

(It took Toji by surprise the first time he noticed it.)

Toji tried to focus on the action movie—clearly made with no aspiration beyond gathering as much money as possible. He really did. Before learning the bland protagonist’s name, heavy eyelids and comfy blankets came together with a sickening plan to betray his determination.

There was no movie to pretend to watch by the time Toji woke up. The television was turned off, the living room silent if not by his untamed heartbeat. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, blurs turning into discernible shapes, Toji breathed no more.

Only after seeing it on the television that Toji was able to feel it on his body. Fingertips running through his still-damp hair, thumb pressing softly against his temple. A constant movement, warm and calm. It made him think about waves in an empty shore.

A contained laughter guided his eyes away from the screen. Leaning on your shoulder, Toji saw you. Eyes narrowing at your phone, undoubtedly fighting to stay open, the tip of your tongue between your parted lips. Caressing his hair, you nibbled on your tongue.

For you, it was an old habit you couldn’t get rid of. For Toji, it was a telltale of your concentration.

Once he learned there was a way to read you, Toji aimed to collect all your telltales. He has all those little signals memorized to translate your behaviors into something he can fully understand. Into something he can transforming into actions.

Distant gaze means hesitation, which in turn means say something, anything, goddamnit. Trembling lips and fervent rage, scrunched nose and jealousy, discreet smiles and nauseating happiness. Toji could fill libraries with everything there is to know about you.

Staring at the soft muscle, Toji knew what your concentration required from him: silence, just for a while. Toji gave you what you needed, hoping somehow you knew what he meant by it—I love you, I love you, I love you.

Wondering about what you needed him to do for you Toji didn’t even notice your nails scratching behind his ears, where you knew he’s sensitive enough to melt into your palm. If he had, maybe Toji would’ve fallen asleep on your shoulder again and rest properly for once.

Toji can’t remember the name of the movie that lulled him to sleep. If he was at your home, if it was late at night, if it was during an unexpected blizzard. Toji can only remember that your eyes weren’t on him, and your touch was gentle.

Scrolling endlessly as you kept him awake, Toji thought once more about how soft your skin is when compared to his. It lacked scars. You lack roughness, precision, disgust. All those things Toji once believed being an adult meant: you don’t have any of them.

(The first time he noticed your love was gentle and quiet, Toji didn’t knew how to react.)

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

(Obviously, Toji never lets you win.)

“Just throw me, Toji”, you practically meowed his name. When he completely ignored your presence, you pinched his cheek. Toji took a deep breath. “Please. Pretty please.”

Your cold hands cupped his cheeks, trying to get Toji to look at you. Pouting, plush bottom lip on display, you stared at him through your lashes. You knew it would take one look at you for him to fold and give in.

He slipped away from your hold, so fast you only noticed he was gone when Toji was already laying down on your beach sarong. That made you giggle. He does that all the time. Moves faster than your eyes can comprehend.

It’s so alluring you couldn’t even force yourself to get mad over Toji mistaking your new sarong for a sheet.

“Brat, I’ve told ya”, he tilted his head back. Toji rest his arm over his head, in a not-so-subtle way of ensuring he wouldn’t accidentally sneak a glance at you. Toji could feel on his bones that you were pouting. “I’m not doing that.”

Maybe because you both went on a whim to a beach on a random tuesday, maybe because this one isn’t as popular as you feared, it was truly a peaceful day. No kids running around, no loud music blasting through someone else’s phone, no drunks yelling just because.

It’s so close from being a perfect day, now all you need is to hear Toji saying yes, darling, anything for you. Not that you ever heard that before. At least, not worded like that.

With a melodramatic sigh, you walked to where your stuff was. Searching among all the bags tossed around, you found just what would change his mind. As your malignant plan developed inside of your mind, a grin spread across your face.

Sitting on his lap, your soaked thighs clamped around Toji’s thick waist. Sighing once more, you rolled your hips with the poor excuse of searching for a more comfortable position. Warm fingers pressed down on his hips; nails close enough to ghost over his happy trail.

“Behave”, Toji groaned, free hand closing around your hip. He easily held you in place. You smelled like salt and malice. “I won’t change my mind.”

You bent over Toji, soaked bikini pressing down against his toned chest. Scratching his forearm, you brushed your nose against his cheek. “Can I try to convince you?”, you whispered sultry against his ear.

Softening his hold on you, Toji smirked. “You’re a fucking menace.”

Splash.

Pouring cold water on his face, you took advantage of his surprised state to run away while you’re still able to. Laughing more than you could breathe, you tilted your head back to look at Toji. “Now tell me something I don’t know.”

Just like you expected, Toji looked at you.

Just like you always forget, Toji was fast. Really, really fast.

Colliding with his chest, you frowned as your mind processed that Toji was right in front of you. As a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, you knew there was nothing you could do to escape his grip. You tried to anyway.

“That’s cheating”, you yelled. It made him laugh like hell, chest vibrating against your stomach. Lifted up far above the ground, you moved your feet uselessly. “It’s so unfair, you need to let me win sometimes too!”

A slap against your ass shut you up. “Annoying brat”, Toji threw you over his shoulders. You tried to squirm away, but decided to settle for just complaining once he bit your thigh. “As if. You can earn your victory or stop acting like a bored cat for once.”

Giggling, you pressed your elbows down on his shoulder. “Toji. My love”, your voice imbued in honey and sugar made him face you. Smiling angelically, you pointed at the cliff providing the shade you two enjoyed all day. “Throw me in the water. From up there, please.”

Another sigh. I’m almost breaking him, you thought. “Why? Just… why?”

“Because I want to jump so badly but I’m a coward”, you pouted. His eyes fell towards your bottom lip. “So just throw me. Pleeeeeeeaase. Pretty please.”

“If you drown, I’m not saving your ass.”

“Deal”, you kissed his jaw.

Another slap. “Spoiled, annoying brat.”

(Except, obviously, Toji always lets you win.)

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

(If you had asked, Toji would’ve confessed in a heartbeat.)

Toji took of his shoes and frowned at your heels fallen out of place. Murmuring to himself about how when he does it with his sneakers it’s a crime deserving of death sentence, Toji closed the buckles of your heels and put them inside the shoe rack.

He knew something was off once the silence lingered. Never one to doubt himself, Toji didn’t hesitate. He analyzed the floor, searched for different scents, checked the front door’s handler. Passing through every room with a hand near his hidden gun, Toji didn’t breathe until seeing you on your bed.

Although, what Toji saw didn’t make him any more relieved.

It’s late at night and you’re still wearing your responsible-adult clothes—that’s how you call those you buy solely so your coworkers won’t judge you. Earrings intertwined with your sweaty hair, necklace pressed against your collarbone, belt too tight to be comfortable.

Moonlight showed him your puffy eyelids smeared with mascara. Half-open as you stared at the ceiling, you didn’t seem to acknowledge Toji’s presence. You didn’t seem to acknowledge anything at all.

“Hi, love.” Toji kneeled down, whispering in order to not startle you. He pressed his chin on your pillow, hands moving your hair away from your face. “Are you here with me?”

Another tear rolled down your face once you blinked. Toji pressed his thumb against your skin, stopping it from falling into your ear. You tried to turn your face away from him, but hesitated once the warmth of his hands made to your heavy mind.

“Need to sleep”, you murmured, voice so thin Toji felt his throat shut.

Soaked in sweat, Toji ran his fingers through your hair without bothering you. He scratched your head, draw figures on your scalp, avoided any knots. Your name, his own, any other word he could think of: his fingertips wrote on your head. For what felt like hours, that’s all he did.

You tilted your head, staring at him. Toji can’t remember ever seeing your eyes like that. Dim. He wondered where you lost your light, and made a quiet promise to return it to you. “Sorry.”

“Don’t.” Toji simply continued to caress your head. “Tell me what to do.”

For the first time in hours, you thought about what you needed. With a single phrase, Toji reminded you that you had a body. “Can you get me my towel?”

Toji would’ve done anything, everything, you asked him to.

With your towel on the mattress, Toji assisted you to sit down. One hand on the small of your back, another cupping your cheek. You melted into his touch, but closed your eyes once he kneeled in front of you. Running away from his careful gaze, you grabbed your towel and forced yourself to walk into the bathroom.

It didn’t surprise you that Toji followed you. Or that he took the towel from your hands, unclasped your jewelry, slid your clothes off of you. Neither as the water hitting your body was on the temperature you prefer, as he hugged you tightly under the shower, as he didn’t make questions you couldn’t quite answer.

Not even your worst day would make you forget how soft your Toji is.

Toji relies on your body to tell him what you need, but once or twice you will say it yourself. Can you get me my towel? You want to be clean again. And knowing what you want, Toji knows what to do.

In no rush, he put your shampoo on his hand and massaged your head. Once your back found a support on his chest, he rinsed your hair while protecting your eyes. After moisturizing, he brushed your hair until he could feel no more knots. Washing the remains of conditioner away from his hands, he moved to the rest of your body.

It didn’t feel weird, and that did surprise you. To feel his hands on your naked body without feeling desire or desired. It wasn’t uncomfortable. Far from it. As Toji washed you, you just felt less lonely.

“Toji?”

He kissed your scalp, massaging your shoulders. He drawn little hearts on your skin. “I am here”, Toji hummed.

“It’s nothing”, you closed your eyes. That was a lie. You meant to say thank you, and I’m sorry but knew he would get mad if you did so. “Just wanted to hear you.”

“I am right here.”

(He would’ve confessed to mimic you, because Toji’s love is anything but gentle and quiet.)

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

(You wouldn’t ask him to. You would never.)

Ignoring the sorcerer’s terrified eyes, his movements were harsh and cold. It felt just right. To have a combat knife between his fingers again. How natural. As if his hands came from a mold, one made to wield blades and nothing more. That would make sense. For his body to be assembled instead of born.

Gun left aside; chair dragged across the concrete floor. Toji sat in front of the muzzled sorcerer, spreading his legs as he sharpened the blade. Moonlight made it clear. Cold sweat, stunned eyes, shaken limbs. He was a scared, coward animal.

“Don’t cry now”, Toji cocked an eyebrow. Spreading his legs, he admired the thin edge. Perfect. Dragging out the silence for one more instant, Toji stared at the walking corpse. “Not when you begged for this.”

A clan left behind; hellish decades erased within an insurgent decision. Toji doesn’t need to be a Zenin to have enemies. Blood-stained hands collect them just as easily. But after slaughtering enemies enough times, those smart enough to be considered dangerous by others knew better than facing him.

But rumors travel fast and, in his absence, fools gained confidence.

This late on his life, Toji couldn’t tell if it was instinct or muscle memory. He simply knew the sorcerer was about to do something stupid. The knife’s handle hit the man in the temple. As he fought to continue conscious, Toji observed his skin turning purple.

He felt proud. This night left no wound or bruise on his skin. There will be no perplexed gaze, uncertain touch, questions that can’t be answered honestly. Once he comes back to his home, you will have no reason to worry.

“You hurt her.” Toji wondered how long it would take. To get back to you. To return your caring gaze, feel your caring touch, hear your caring questions. “Now I’ll hurt you.”

It begged. It tried to negotiate, numbers rising as Toji continued in silence. If rumors travel fast, so does the truth. Toji turned soft, a rumor that thing discovered to be a lie the moment it decided to bother you. Toji can be bought, a fact that never once included you.

“What do you want?!” And the tears came back. They usually do, with loud and unstoppable sobs. Don’t matter who they are, in the end they beg just the same. “I can give it to you. Tell me your price.”

“Your right hand”, Toji tilted his head, sliding the edge of the knife against the armchair. “You touched her with your right hand.”

Toji was merely taunting the sorcerer. He would never use a combat knife to torture someone. That doesn’t sound like him at all. Toji will saw both hands with a dull knife.

(But you didn’t need to ask him to. Toji would always.)

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

(Toji didn’t need to say it.)

It took him long enough to unlock the door to your apartment. The voice of a senator on a news channel welcomed Toji. Heels inside the shoe rack, handbag and headphone forgotten on the couch. Hearing you hum in the shower, Toji turned the TV off.

He could picture it so clearly. You stretching your neck and walking barefoot into the living room, rubbing your eyes just to immediately remember about the mascara. Calling for him. Hearing nothing in response. Choosing something loud on the TV and deciding to take a long shower because it’s friday, I deserve this.

Toji sighed, relief washing over him in waves. You’re back to being you.

He put the takeout on the table and organized the groceries on the kitchen cabinet—his excuses for staying out longer than usual. Toji was careful with them. Food from your favorite restaurant, cleaning products you mentioned before. Lies build on solid truths.

He doesn’t have an excuse for the scent of antiseptic soap, but once your products made to his nostrils Toji realized he wouldn’t need one. Scents way too sweet, enough to confuse slightly his keen senses. There is no way you’re able to smell anything but yourself.

As the bathroom door opened, Toji grabbed a towel on the laundry and locked himself inside it before you could get a hold of him. He doesn’t think you would notice, and if you did you wouldn’t waste your breath on it, but Toji won’t risk it.

Washing himself once more, Toji tried not to wonder about what would make you despise him more: what he did, or that he doesn’t feel any remorse. Would it make it better for you if Toji cried in the shower? If he stared at his clean hands and saw blood on them? Toji could pretend for you. He really would.

You’re safe and sound, mere steps away from him. Toji showers hearing your loud music. Toji can picture that too. You waiting for him as your sleepy eyes challenge your determination—you always fall asleep before he gets to you. You being you. No shaky breathes, no unstoppable tears. He could never feel remorse.

Toji went after you with a towel around his hips. Following the music most likely coming from your phone, he gently opened the bedroom door to not wake you up. Leaning on the door frame, Toji chuckled.

With your eyes closed, you were far from sleeping. Wrinkled sheets falling out of bed, toes curling against the mattress. Damp towel forgotten on the floor. A hand squeezing his pillow, the other hidden between your thighs. Forearms moving in the rhythm you created to yourself; small gasps concealed by a song.

Spit gathered in the corner of your mouth, mesmerizing Toji. How he wished to sink his teeth into your glossy lips. A broken moan and your back arched, his eyebrows furrowing in synchrony with yours. You did it as the waves of pleasure became too much, and Toji as he finally saw what you had between your legs.

From the blunt and bulbous head to its thick length, it was truly no wonder why you were so quiet. All way out, then all way in. Your concentration was on fucking yourself with the dark purple dildo, the rest simply too much for you little brain.

He never saw that one before.

Wrist burning from your incessant movements, your free hand abandoned his pillow to press down on your clit. A simple and precise touch that made you whimper. Feeling shivers down his spine, Toji smirked.

Your eyes fluttered open.

A beat later, they meet his and widened. All way out. Mouth hanging open, you chuckled. It sounded like you were about to lose your sanity. Then all way in. “There you are.”

Toji crossed his arms, leaving his place at the door to a new one at the end of the bed. “Putting on a show for me?”

“Not on purpose”, you laughed it off. It felt so dirty. For you to talk normally while doing something so lewd. As if you weren’t fully exposed—as if he wasn’t too. “I could say the same about you.”

Skin reddish because of the hot water, black hair dripping wet. You followed every drop, burning him with your ravenous gaze. Veins evident on his thick neck. Long fingers pressing down on his forearms, a reminder of how bad you miss his touch. Huge thighs, even when relaxed.

He dropped the towel. “Not on purpose”, Toji lied.

A knee sunk on the bed, his hands caressing your heels. Toji forced your legs up, tilting his head to kiss the side of your foot. He put one on each shoulder, another knee sinking down on the bed. Grabbing at the fat of your thighs, Toji pulled you closer.

Toji has a way of making you feel weightless.

He bit his tongue, a hand massaging your thigh. Always the cocky asshole, Toji rubbed your overwhelmed clit with his thumb. Staring into his hungry eyes, you grinned.

Holding the firm base of the dildo, Toji pulled it out of you. The sounds your cunt let out, soaked and soft, made him squeeze your thighs. With a pop, there it was, covered in lubricant and your excitement. Your core clamped around nothing.

Toji spat on you, fingers rough against your sore lips as his other hand pumped his cock. You swallowed watching Toji compare with your dildo. You both could see the truth. How your toy was much bigger and ticker.

Salivating, Toji was so proud of you.

Bending over you, forcing your thighs against your chest, Toji admired your sweaty face. He kissed your temple, pressing the dildo’s tip against your lips. “Your collection only grows”, Toji groaned. “That’s a new one.”

“Not new”, you lapped at the protruding head. “Is for when I miss you.”

Toji sank his teeth into your shoulder, hiding his burning cheeks against your skin. Fingers ran through his hair; nails scratched his forearm. “You saw me this morning.”

His tongue was everywhere, moving too fast for you to keep up. Kissing your shoulder, licking your neck, biting your collarbone. Toji is always too much. How perfect of him. “Are you that needy you can’t go hours without me?”

“Miss you all the time”, you struggled to breath. Pulling him by the hair, you made Toji face you. Lost on his dark eyes, time seemed to stop. “Say you miss me too.”

“Miss you all the time”, Toji obeyed. It wouldn’t matter if he didn’t. Not when you can see his flushed cheeks. As a reward, you kissed the scar on his mouth—you would’ve kissed it anyway. “Think about you all the time.”

You bit his earlobe, nose sliding against his neck as you searched for that sweet spot able to make Toji stutter. Once you did, mouth sucking it without mercy, Toji gave your hips a strong squeeze. His calloused hands would mark you tonight.

Toji humped on your thigh. You could feel precum leaking against your skin. He settled for leaning his forehead against yours. “You smell way too sweet.”

“I can get new lotions”, you offered. “Something you like better.”

“Don’t.” Toji cupped your face, ignoring your clit to rub the length of his cock against your slit. Pushing your head against the pillow, he kissed your forehead. “I like you sweet.”

Toji didn’t meant to slip inside you. He wanted to taunt you some more. To fuck you with your dildo and make you scream right into his open lips. Toji wanted you drooling. And once you begged him enough, showing what a polite woman you are, Toji would make you cry with his tongue deep into your walls.

But you were so wet.

“T-Toji!” You gasped, eyes wide as you felt all of him. Pulling his hair, you bit his bottom lip. “Can feel you so deep…”

“I know”, Toji grabbed the headboard, thighs shaking. So fucking welcoming. Thumbs stroking your hips, his mind was a mess because of you. “I know.”

Your eyes meet his. A part of Toji wanted to look away. To hide how fragile you make him. How your gaze burns him deeply. The other wanted to never shy away from you. To never know what it feels like to not be watched by you.

No one ever sees him, the one who left it all behind. No one but you.

His body collapsed against yours. His hands pulled your hair, making you tilt your head so he could continue to torture your neck. Thighs forcing yours open, chest pressing down against yours. You could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat. This gigantic man crushing you against the mattress, so heavy it was difficult to breath.

Drunk on his overwhelming intensity, you admired Toji. His hips rolling up, so slow you could feel the trace of every vein on his cock. His length inside you, never giving you a break. His hair dripping on you, a blend of water and sweat.

“Remind me… to thank my new friend”, Toji tilted his head, pointing at the dildo besides your pillow. His raspy voice was more addictive than cocaine. “Got you ready to take me all in.”

Fighting his grasp on your hair, you hugged his shoulders and forced your head up. Sharing an open mouth kiss, your drool fell on your chest. It felt so cold. Or perhaps your skin was too feverish. Toji devoured your every moan, hands tightening around your hips.

“Missed you so much”, you whimpered. His forehead leaned on yours, eyes closing as Toji tried to not lose himself. You continued to admire him. “Missed being yours.”

“You’re always mine. All the time”, Toji groaned. His tip hit your most sensitive spot; your eyes closing on their own. Toji rubbed your neglected clit, a hand grabbing the roots of your head. His grip firm yet gentle. “Look at me.”

You obeyed, staring into his dark eyes again. You could swear you saw stars on them. Toji leaned his forehead on yours, your touch enough to make him forget everything but your name.

“There you go”, he whispered. “Focus on me, pretty. Don’t look away.”

Searching for those stars again, the waves of pleasure strong enough to shatter your mind. There was nothing but that spot you and Toji turned into one. Blinded by a fog, crushed by him, you came looking into his eyes.

Toji filled you with all he had. His head fell on your chest, it all too much for him to bear. It all too good for him to fully believe it was real. Gasping, he couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t do anything but breath on you. Sweet you.

Running your trembling fingers through his hair, you collapsed against the pillow. Toji was heavy enough to make you breathless, but you didn’t want him to move. You wanted him as close as he could get.

“Welcome back”, Toji murmured. Mimicking you, Toji ran his fingers through your hair. You felt him smiling against your skin. “I missed you.”

You knew exactly what he meant by that. “I love you too”, you whispered.

all rights reserved to © madwomansapologist

[landograndprix]

ᴀɴʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ ♛ ʟɴ⁴ - one

➣ family friend!reader x ln⁴

➣ and just like that you're growing closer each day and falling in love has never felt this good.

➣ being told you feel like home might just be the best compliment you've received in a while.

➣ tired of all the negativity in this fandom so gonna treat myself with nothing but teeth rotting fluff ♡ big ass family so lots of OC's and just a heads up but really not a surprise coming from me but reader is like 4-5 years older so if that's not your thing, don't read. Fun fact, I don't proof read my stuff so enjoy the spelling mistakes <3

➣ reblogs and comments are welcome, alright love u 😘

➣ next chapter

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y/nusername

liked by landonorris and others

y/nusername kidless.

view all comments

iamzarah "what the hell am I then?" - Milo and Stella reading that caption

↳ jamiejamezz can't call Milo a kid, that rat is the devil himself

y/nusername stop calling him a rat and he might start to like you back

iamivy bro you are the devil himself

norrizz love me a lazy sunday ❤️

julieeeexo is it a lazy sunday though, are you sure you're not deep cleaning the entire house? 🤣

↳ y/nusername 😅

freyafrey that's that mum life 😔

quinking posting on insta but ignoring my texts, I see how it is..i am your least favourite sibling

↳ landonorris stop bullying her then

quinking mate you're the biggest bully here!

landonorris i'd never bully y/n

hannahh hope you enjoy your free time before the storm hits again 😂

ethanlowe must be nice..

↳ y/nusername it's your turn next week

ethanlowe 🙌

maxfewtrell what one one-night stand gets you 9 months later am I right?

iamzarah fewtrell, violation much? 😭

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y/nusername

liked by landonorris, quinking and others

y/nusername two besties hitting the big 05 ❤️

view all comments

quinking yooo happy birthday to my best friends ❤

adam_norris_pure_electric happy birthday to the twins

freyafrey eating them up 😍

↳ iamivy pretty sure i had dibs on them but okay..

freyafrey there's two, we each get one ☺

y/nusername cannibalism is not it guys..

norry4 happiest of birthdays to these cuties! <3

iamzarah happy birthday to the funkiest guy and cutest girl! 🥰🥰

iamivy happy birthday to my favorites in this family, lotsa love and kisses 💜

hannahh for they grow up too fast!!

jamiejamezz happy bday you crazies 💥❤🎉

riabish happy birthday to the cutest set of twins! 🎊

landonorris happy birthday muppets ❤️

↳ norrizz nawwwh his two besties turning 5 !!

y/nusername been told to thank you and call you gremlin, so there's that

landonorris tell them I'll return the gifts

norry4 😭

y/nusername you're not welcome anymore :(

landonorris oh 😔

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y/nusername posted to their story

landonorris replied to your story

landonorris

that's me 😁

did noah watch the race?

y/nusername

yeah, he wanted to watch with his dad though, he send me a video of a very happy Noah 😂

I'll send it to you

landonorris

Can't wait to see it!

landonorris

What world are we living in?

Quin taking you out for dinner?

what does he need now? 😂

y/nusername

I know, I was as suprised as you are!

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y/nusername

liked by maxfewtrell and others

y/nusername bunch of animals 🐘

tagged: iamzarah, maxfewtrell, landonorris, jamiejamezz, iamivy

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quinking oh so everyone got an invite but me?

↳ freyafrey do you see me in these pictures? No invite for me either boy

quinking yeah but you're too old for fun

freyafrey I'm literally a year older than your sister, don't make me come for you little boy

landonorris life would be so much easier if you stop bullying everyone mate

quinking real rich coming from you mate 🤣

land0n0rriss so who's this then? 👀

imivy meet dads side of the family today ❤️🦥

norrizz hope you had fun with all your kids!!

norrisbob new wag alert????

jamiejamezz Bob still mad the whole gang joined? 🤪

↳ maxfewtrell watch it mate you might hit a nerve there

iamzarah bit weird to take your maid on a date no?

landonorris you're all so funny!

iamivy uncalled for, we all take our maid on dates

y/nusername if y'all stop living like actual pigs, you wouldn't need this maid

landonorris bit dramatic but we still love you ❤️

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comments and reblogs are welcome ♡ taglist is open.

[gyuswhore]

Never Shall We Die (1)

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

PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x reader

PLAYLIST: right here!

pirate lingo glossary (pls refer!)

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

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

WORD COUNT [full fic]: 48.1k

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

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

masterlist

WARNINGS: slowburn, plot heavy, happy ending bc no angsty endings in this household, being taken hostage, knives, bombs, and guns, mentions of blood, mentions of SA (does not happen and it is not explicitly mentioned), alcohol, mentions of death (patricide), hoshi is ✨selectively moral✨but kind of moral nonetheless, side character death, [pls lmk if im missing something its alot] smut tagin following parts

[AN]: thank you so much to @highvern for betaing for me and helping out with the plot so much, this fic would not exist if it weren't for her!!!! and thank you reader!!! for clicking on this and reading it, this one's been about 7 months in the works and I would love to hear what your thoughts are when you're done, plsplspls leave a rb or a reply with your brainrot lol <3 happy reading

HOSHI’S BOOT IS STUCK in the ground. 

No, that’s a branch. 

Or is it a plank? 

He doesn’t try to find out as he yanks his foot out of whatever stopped him from moving. A tree root, he finds as he kicks the remnants of jungle rubbish from the surface of the shrouded root. He kicks it to satisfy himself. 

His crew resides on the beach; where he can see them attempt to build a fire before sundown, the mound of discombobulated twigs making up most of the sad pile of wood. Hoshi trudges up to it and drops another handful of puny branches into the mix. 

Exhaling loudly as Mingyu calls for him, he falls to his bottom and sits cross legged on the sand. Mingyu trudges up next to him to inspect his pile, sighing when he realised this was all he had to work with. He picks up two hefty looking stones and begins to strike them together, putting his faith in the primitive fire. 

Hoshi stares into the horizon, watching the died down waves drift onto the shore, moving closer by the minute. 

Hoshi thinks, which he can’t say is something that he does very often. Perhaps that’s why he was sat on this nature-overrun island as a shipless captain of his shipless crew. He chews on his tongue as he thinks of his Tigress, his beloved hunk of wood and metal; the beloved hunk of wood and metal that he could not see on the shoreline, because she was taken by the royal navy. 

He wonders if Tigress would ever forgive him for letting that happen to her, for letting those clean, soft handed soldiers rip her away from his grasp. 

Hoshi needs to start thinking more often.

Mingyu is frantic over the small flame that erupts in the middle of his leaves, dropping his rocks to blow into the fire, encouraging it to grow. 

“Captain, it’s done! We can rustle up those fish we caught, have supper sorted.” 

“Hm.”

The bustle of the entire crew lasts until night has fallen and they’ve gotten food in their stomachs. Hoshi hasn’t moved from his spot for hours, something the others noticed very quickly, but decided not to mention for fear of waking something dangerous. They understood he was suffering from a broken heart. 

It isn’t until the first of the crew had begun to doze off that Hoshi speaks. Chan is propped up against a tree while Seungkwan laughs at the dangerously low coconut that hangs above his head. Mingyu readjusts his trousers after a full meal. Minghao stretches onto the sand, feet facing the water. 

His voice isn’t loud, nor is it commanding, nor does it have his usual edge of jest—in fact, it sounds nothing like Hoshi at all. 

Or does it?

“Who wants to steal a ship?”

YOU'RE AWOKEN BY THE sound of yelling. Which is never a good sign in any case, but especially not when it’s pitch black outside and you’re on a ship in the middle of the ocean.

The grogginess is quick to fade as you try to understand what’s going on outside your quarters. Your room isn’t a mess, all the trinkets and royal seals remaining in their places on the walls and shelves. Nor is the ship lurching or moving in odd angles to indicate an unexpected spat from the skies. A quick peek outside the window shows you clear, calm water amidst the mostly dark expanse of ocean. 

There is only one other answer in your head that would cause this much commotion—especially on a boat where the admiral resides (and a princess). 

Slipping out of the covers, your feet hit the cool hardwood floors of your quarters, a small shiver going through your spine from the cold, with nothing to cover you but your thin nightgown. You’re in the middle of tying your robe to see what the ruckus was about outside when a particularly loud thud hits outside of your door. You immediately freeze. 

Staring at the doorknob, you attempt to move backwards in the space, heart beating faster as you watch the knob move slightly. The back of your knees hit the bedside table with a thud, the sound has you gasp out loud. Whoever it was outside your door jiggles the knob harder, the force exerted having you scan the room for something you could use as a weapon. 

Spotting the letter opener on your desk, you lurch across the room to grab it, holding it in front of you as you back away from the door. The knob continues to bang against the wood as you refuse to take eyes off of it. There’s sounds of men outside, loud and rambunctious, momentarily halting the grievances. 

Until the knob moves again, slower this time, a light click that could be heard as it unlocks itself, opening into the low light of your quarters. 

You recognise the frazzled looking soldier at your door. 

“Lieutenant,” you voice in recognition. “What’s going on?”

He eyes the letter opener that you hold defiantly in front of you from across the room, and it has you retracting your force slightly. 

“Pirates, your Highness,” he breathes out. “We must get you to lower deck—”

“Where is the Admiral? The Captain?” you ask as you take a couple steps forward. 

“They’re handling the situation, your High–” 

An arm has come up behind the soldier that pulls him into a headlock, a swift pull to have him dragged away from your vision. You would’ve gasped if your voice hadn’t been caught in your throat, refusing to make itself known as fear brews in the pit of your stomach. Your hold on your makeshift weapon is tighter than ever before, yet you doubt how it’s going to help you as the culprit finally steps over something to appear in your doorframe. 

His clothes are in a disarray; slashed, torn and covered in grime. There’s a deadly looking machete in one hand, the blood that coats it has you eyeing the trail that drips onto his hand and on the floor. His forearms are perched up on the doorframe as he inspects you, tongue to cheek as he stares. 

Threatened as you feel, there was less hunger in his gaze as you had expected, more like he was trying to figure out who you were. He eyes your tiny letter opener you hold like a knife and lets out a little exhale you think might be a laugh. It has you gripping the handle impossibly tighter. The man moves his face into the hallway, to where you know the staircase to the main deck is. 

“Hoshi!” he yells loudly. “How’s this for bait?” 

Your back is pressed inexplicably against the wall, wanting to sink into the wooden boards as you attempt to gain your bearings amongst the nauseous bouts of mortification that surge through you. Your only exit is blocked.

No. You have one more option. 

The sound of more men bounding down the hall has you praying there were more soldiers here, but the calm regard the man has for the approaching people has your heart sink to the depths of this very ocean itself. 

More faces peer into the room, men with the same haphazard, grimey clothing complete with  equally sinister weapons in their grasps. One of the men breaks out into the biggest grin as he lays his eyes on you. You nearly throw up. 

For the first time in your life, you wish you’d listened to your father. 

“Jun, you savvy motherfucker,” the grinning man explodes, slapping the man who found you on the back. 

Another voice speaks from behind him, “Ships cleared, captain.” 

“Perfect. Bring a spring upon ‘er. Get as far away from those cleans as you can, let them fend for themselves in a tiny boat for once.” 

Captain. The grinning, stupid looking one is their captain. 

He regards the rest of his crew as he finally steps through the threshold, waving them away as he enters your quarters.

It was taking everything out of you to not buckle your knees as you stood, every step he takes is turning your strength into dust. He keeps his eyes on you, eyes on your sorry excuse of a weapon. He registers the mix of fear and determination in your eyes. 

He stops a few feet away from you, looking directly at you past the makeshift knife you hold. 

He says nothing as he drops the knife in his own hand to the ground with a loud clang. He removes a pistol, a couple more knives, a grenade and a sword. Weapons drop to the floor one after the other, emerging from all over his body and clothes. All in a pile on the wooden floors. He puts his hands in the air.

“No weapons on me. I merely wish to talk.” 

The look on his face is not ordinary, some strange combination of mock innocence and jest. You don’t answer him.

He continues, “You can keep your… scalpel… if you so wish.” 

“What did you do to the soldiers?” you finally rasp out.

“They’re not dead, if that's what you’re asking.”

“Yet?” you ask with a slight tremble to your voice. 

“They’ve been shoved into a boat with a map and a compass to fend for themselves. I’m not entirely ruthless,” he adds with raised brows and a hint of a smile. “Admiral, were they calling him? You must be his wife.”

“W-what?”

“Oh, guess not. Daughter? Captain’s wife, Captain’s daughter?”

Your previously stagnant brain is now running a derby with all the thoughts galloping across your mind. He doesn’t know who you are. Yet, anyway.

He’s scanning the room now, nodding at the trinkets and trophies scattered across the place. “Can’t imagine giving a lieutenant’s anybody quarters like this.” He circles back on you, eyes sharp. “Who are you, darling?”

You don’t think you have anything that should give you away, but the way he starts pacing the room has your anxiety going through the wooden roof.

He has his back turned to you. You’re not sure if he’s confident or careless considering you could drive your weapon into his back and make a run for it. But then what? By the looks of it there’s an entire crew of pirates pacing the deck. Perhaps the soldiers haven’t gotten that far; they know you’re still on board, they know it’s their heads on a pike if they leave you here. 

He’s reached your desk during your thinking, inspecting your stationary, picking at the bejewelled quills and paper weights as he mutters nonsense to himself. 

“Oh!” he announces, a little too enthusiastic. “What’s this?” 

He brandishes the loose leaf of paper, and you recognise the print on the back immediately. It was a letter from your father, the King.

“How on Earth did you read this, the writing is illegible.” He flips the paper over, double taking when he sees the royal seal on the back. He looks into the letter closer now. 

You wait with baited breath. 

“The kingdom needs their princess…your father…ah.” 

Should you plunge the knife into him anyway? You almost do it, but stop when he begins to turn around to face you again. His eyebrows are raised, a slight hint of exasperation on his face when he begins to laugh a loud, loud cackle. 

It’s mortifying, especially when you don’t understand what on earth was so funny to elicit a reaction like that. The man is downright hysterical. He wipes a lone tear from the corner of his eye as he drops the letter back onto the desk.

“W-what’s so funny?” you try to sound brave.

“It seems, miss princess, that we’ve gotten more than we bargained for,” he says, looking straight at you as he sobers up. “You’re the King’s daughter, now, are you? What are the odds the first ship I hop onto with a royal seal slapped on it, held the crown jewel of the kingdom in its gallows.” 

And then he starts walking, towards you, for that matter. Imperative because you know for sure that this is how it all ends. 

You know you still have your one last option, the option that is now pressed against your back as you shimmy to it with miniscule movements. The window is cool on your hand that rests on the glass, you know the lamp will be enough to break it, enough for you to push through and fall into the abyss of the dark, dark sea. He knows who you are now, and you’d rather drown than die at the hands of a pirate—or go through whatever it was that’s curling the minds of all the men on this ship. 

He takes another step forward, hands on his hips. “He’s not going to like this, is he? His dear daughter in the hands of the Kingdom’s favourite degenerate captain.” 

What?

He then adds in a whisper to himself mostly, “Or least favourite with all the wanted posters off the churches and brothels.” 

Hoshi. Hoshi. Hoshi. 

The man who had found you had called him Hoshi. Hoshi the pirate. Hoshi the pirate that’s been giving the Kingdom and its court absolute hell for as long as you can remember. 

The man that you are now trapped alone with on a ship is the most feared pirate the Kingdom has ever seen. 

You don’t doubt your face has gone grey, feeling your breathing turn near erratic. “Oh God.”

He smiles wryly as the life is sucked out of your very soul. 

This was bad. Very bad.

“Now, fear not, you will soon be returned to daddy dearest,” he places a mildly dramatic hand over his heart. “Pirate’s honour.”

He paces back to pluck the letter off the table, pocketing it. “All you need to do is relax and tell me a few things so we can part ways as soon—”

“No.” The word blurts out of your mouth before you can stop it, horrified at the thought of giving information to any pirate, let alone this one. 

“No?” Hoshi looks genuinely shocked, his eyes wide, eyebrows raised. He laughs a little incredulously, “Oh, I see, can’t tell all the delicate details to a scary ol’ pirate.”

He smiles a little bit, “Worry not, miss princess, we shall only need a few minor details. Just enough to have your father sprinting to get you out of here. We all win.”

He stares at you almost expectantly, and you wonder if you look as confused as you feel. 

“Well, I’ll be bidding you goodnight now, I’m sure we’ve interrupted your beauty sleep enough. Rest assured we won’t be bothering you for the rest of the morning.”

Hoshi begins to make his way to the door, picking up his pile of weapons off the floor before wrenching the door open. He’s calm as ever, but your mind is in a disarray.

A ransom, but whatever for? Gold could’ve been retrieved by raiding any ship, and it sounded like he’d chosen to hop on a ship belonging to the navy. Come to think of it, as much of a nuisance this man has proved himself, you don’t remember a case where he’s directly meddled with the Kingdom. All of this can’t just be for gold. 

Steeling yourself, you bet your odds against your voice and asked him, “What do you want from my father?” 

You watch as he halts in his tracks, halfway through the door as he finally looks over his shoulder. The look on his face has you wanting to break open the window immediately and let the water flood in, once and for all as you take these bastards down with you. 

“Your father has something of mine. And I intend to take it back,” he says, before finally slamming the door shut. You hear a shuffle and a thud, and you do not doubt that he’s locked you in. 

Your knees give out almost immediately, dropping to the ground as you breathe in quick, shallow breaths. Trying to look past the dizziness, you try not to think about the last thing he’d said before he left, moreso the look on his face as he did. 

The first rays of morning sun are beginning to shine through the windows, casting the beginnings of a glow in your quarters. You think of the supposed assurance he had given you, that they wouldn’t hurt you, that they intended to return you. 

The thought leads to a faraway memory, yet one that’s tucked itself into a front corner of your mind, you can almost hear your father's voice as he says it; never trust a pirate.

You remain on the floor, and you remain wide awake. 

THE SUN IS HIGH in the sky by the time you put your limbs to work. 

The first hours after the pirate locked you in your quarters were spent trying to reign yourself to earth. You can’t be entirely sure your soul has come back to your body, but whatever little of it that has landed is whispering some very dangerous things. 

The lamp remains, the ornate jewels glinting almost enticingly in the afternoon light. The flame inside it has long died, but you itch to give it another purpose. You don’t note the trembling of your hand as you reach for it, pushing yourself to your feet as you get a feel for the heavy hunk of glass and metal in your hands. 

If there was a level of regard before, it disappears when you set eyes on the bright window and the creases of crystal blue water. With all your strength, you don’t think twice when the lamp makes hard contact, a loud thud erupting as a result, but no damage when you pull away. 

You go again, harder this time, and only vaguely register the glass of the lamp that shatters into your hands. Gripping the metal bit tighter, you swing for the third time, pulling back for the strongest blow yet. 

A hand wraps around your elbow and you’re yanked backwards, landing on the floor. There’s a kick at your hand that’s flown into the air, the one that holds the bludgeoned lamp. It goes flying across the room as you retract your hand into yourself. 

You don’t register a thing as you’re suddenly being pulled back up to your feet. Face to face with the pirate captain, your soul finally clicking back into place. 

“Didn’t think I scared you this bad.” He’s made a joke, but all you can see is his face that’s a mask of rage.

The initial instinct is to move away, pulling your elbow out of his grasp in an attempt to flee. You fail as he tightens his grip to a painful degree, hauling you towards the ajar door of the quarters. 

It’s only then that you realise that there’s more people in the room.You note another big, burly man next to the window you just assaulted, inspecting it with another shorter man. You don’t get to note more as you’re pulled into the narrow hallway, begging the saints he doesn’t take the turn towards the lower decks. Instead you find he leads you upstairs to where the main deck is. 

Walk the plank? Did navy ships have planks to walk on? Not that you’d mind too much, you were trying to drown yourself and this ship in any case. But then there’s a settle of dread in the pit of your stomach, realising death may be the most merciful thing this man could give you. 

The pirate captain pushes you against a mast, one of his other minions rushing in with coils of rope on his shoulder. The sun beats down on the deck, not a gust of reprieve from the wind. 

“Keep the ropes tight, she’s got less wit than I’d thought,” the pirate captain says with a grunt, huffing as he lets go of you. He takes a few steps away, hands at his hips, the image of vexation. 

The person who ties the cords around your hands whispers slowly, “Stop moving.”

But you can’t, not when the panic is near the lip, not when all the possibilities are flashing gore filled images into your vision. It's scary to blink. 

“Why won’t you let me die?” you ask to the back that’s turned.

He turns around, not even bothering hiding the exasperation that paints his face, mouth opening furiously before closing again. “Why won’t—Because you were trying to take us all with you!”

“Kill me!” you all but scream. “They won’t know till you’ve gotten what you want, I’d rather be dead than let you try whatever’s brewing in all your sick heads!” 

He’s silent for a moment, noting your defiant gaze, your pull against the ropes, the heaving of your chest. Taking a few steps forward, Hoshi seems to be attempting to bring the boil in his blood to a low simmer, “Listen, princess. We’re pirates alright, but me and my crew, we keep to ourselves. If your daddy the king hadn’t decided to meddle and steal my fucking ship, you would’ve been home in your pretty palace, asleep in your bed of gold by now.” 

The pirate captain’s face is closer than you’d ever be comfortable with, seething in a way that has you pressing further into the mast. “We may be degenerates but we keep our own morals, as twisted as your people heed them to be.” 

When he finally pulls away, you take a breath and thank the air that simply exists, eyes downcast as you attempt to look braver than you feel. 

“I’m not pushing you overboard. I’ve duped your people once, they’ll be more prepared next time. We need you alive while you’re in our hands.” 

“How are you going to summon a ransom? You sent away your only messengers,” you ask, a sad attempt at a mock, but also because you wanted to know what his plan was. 

“Your useless Admiral’s taken up that job.”

“By lifeboat? You’ve left them all for dead, how do you expect this genius plan to work?” 

“They could’ve swam to shore if it came to it, we were close enough.”

“How are you so sure?” you spit.

“Do I need to gag you too?” he gives you one last irritated look before stalking off towards the lower deck. You’re left alone in the cooling afternoon heat, the sound of the sea keeping your ears company along with your own slowing breaths. 

Everything he said has a good enough chance to be a complete and utter lie. Never trust a pirate. No weapon to cut yourself out of your impossibly tight binds, nothing to protect you or give you reassurance besides a pirate’s word—the worst pirate’s word. 

Your battered thinking leads you straight through the setting of the sun, the orange glow of the sky shrouding the ship in the dreamiest backdrop while you live what you can only sum as a nightmare. Perhaps not, for you doubt your mind could ever conjure up a terror like this. 

This was life, the most terrifying nightmare of all. 

Having managed to wiggle your tied hands downwards, you had seated yourself with your head against the wood of the mast, staring into the translucent skies. So much freedom that taunts you in its illusion of proximity, yet so far still. 

There’s murmurs below deck, the only semblance of life you’ve heard in the past few hours after the stupid pirate captain stormed off. It seems to be on the stairs, a heated argument. 

“Obviously this wasn’t part of the plan, the chances were supposed to be zero to absolutely none. We landed with that scumbag’s successor, that’s just our piss luck and nothing more.” 

“You wanted a woman for bait, this should work the same.”

“Hao, I wanted a woman for bait to trigger a lukewarm reaction, this princess could either doom us all or make our job a fat punch easier, and I’m not betting on the latter.”

There’s a pause. 

“If only she’d cut it with the random hysterics and creepy-staring-at-the-sky we could actually get something useful out of her.” 

“Pray that window holds up or any chance of a miracle is gone to the wind.”

It’s like you’ve woken up with the way the stupid idea begins to form in your head. You think of your father, the kind of man he is, the kind of ruler he is. All the ‘if’s are guiding you to a conclusion. One that gives you a fighting chance, one that may go beyond this massive navy ship and clear into the rest of your life—if you make it that far anyway. 

Your father and his men would come, give this unhinged pirate what he desires so dearly, you know that for sure. But you also know it wouldn’t be for you, but for the crown that’s destined to fall upon your cursed head. 

If it’s his ship that he wants…

The next time you see one of the pirate captain’s goons on the deck, you ask for an audience. 

“DID YOUR STUPID FATHER drop you on your head as a baby?” 

Hoshi stands before you under the light of the midnight moon, an incredulous expression on his face. You try to keep the scowl off your own but it proves difficult when his voice pierces your skull. 

You ignore him from your position on the floor, “I know my father, and I know he loathes you enough to finally want you and your incompetent crew gone for good.”

He scratches his chin, “Can’t be that incompetent if he hates us so much.”

“I can help you.”

“You were ready to die than to be on the same ship as us a few hours ago. What’s changed?”

“Perspective,” you shrug in an attempt to remain nonchalant. 

“Are you gonna go back to wailing in the morning then?” 

God, this was going to be the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. 

“You want your ship back and you were hoping for someone less important to exchange it for. But you’re stuck with me and you know it’s not going to end well for you. You need my help.” 

“Why so merciful, miss princess? Are you not on your father’s side?” 

You gulp as discreetly as possible.

“I want something in exchange.”

He raises his eyebrows, staring at you to continue. 

“I want you to kill my father.”

If his eyebrows were raised before, they’ve broken for the skies now. He leans his head back, eyes closing for a moment before reopening, reigning back to you before asking very gracefully, “What?” 

“I want you to kill my father.”

“No, I got that bit,” he snaps. “Your father as in, the King?”

“Yes, as you’ve pointed out far more times than anyone ever has.” You can’t help but roll your eyes despite the weight of the situation and the hammering in your chest. 

He stares at you in an expression you can’t quite read, and it unsettles you deeply. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve gravely miscalculated, watching as he moves around the mast you’re tied to. Out of the corner of your eye you see the metal glint of a dagger, and you nearly short circuit. 

Is he about to cut your hands off?

You feel a distinct tug at your wrists, the sound of slicing, and the voice in your head asking why it didn’t hurt. 

Suddenly your hands are free, intact and free as you achingly bring them in front of you, wincing audibly at the pain of moving them after so long. 

“You can jump into the water if you’d like, I won’t stop you.” He walks back over, sitting cross legged opposite you, at eye level. 

“What?”

“You’ve clearly gone mad, I’ll find another way to get my ship back.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Of course, and I utterly enjoy having a kingdom’s worth of blood on my hands. Shall I take the entirety of the court down while we’re at it? Carry out a fucking waltz with Jack Ketch?”

“Why are you acting like you’re above murder? Another part of your strange moral code?” 

“No, no, not above it at all. But I like my head and rather not have it guillotined. They might skim over the death of some too-nosy soldier but I doubt they’d leave me be after I put a bullet between the King’s eyes.”

“I’ll protect you.”

He looks at you for a moment, “Quite reassuring.” 

You sit up straighter, licking your lips as you prepare yourself. “My father isn’t a good man.”

The pirate captain snorts, “Oh, I’m well aware.”

You try not to stare too hard at the still unsheathed dagger that he digs into the floorboards, knifing out splinters in disregard. 

“My father doesn’t want me home, he wants the crown home. He wants me to be a carbon copy of himself, he wants to be in control long after he’s gone.” You try not to grind your teeth too hard but it’s difficult when your father’s face burns behind your eyelids. “I want control over the throne, full control.”

“And your conclusion is to eliminate him.”

“I don’t have another choice.”

“Then what? You’ll pardon me and my crew after we get our hands dirty for you?” he asks, eyes wide in mock hope. 

“Yes. You can do whatever it is that you sail about doing and no one will be of bother. I might ask you for sparing favours. For a wage of course. But other than that, you can live as lawlessly as you wish.”

“You’re asking me to become your personal lackey?”

“Having a queen’s favour is no small feat I hope you’re aware. Besides, it's a leap better than the hoops you’ve been jumping through during my father’s reign.” 

You realised his face had been shrouded by the dark between your negotiating and the clouds that had veiled the moon. Every moment that was supposed to strengthen your understanding of the man that sat across from you only brought you more confusion. 

“You want your ship and freedom of land and sea,” you continue when it’s silent for a beat too long. “I only ask for a small favour in return.”

“I’d argue the miniscule nature of what you’re asking from me,” he scoffs.

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

There crawls in the silence once again, the same one that seems to grab you by the throat for every moment that ticks past undisturbed. 

“We’ll have to see to that,” he says, huffing as he gets back on his boot clad feet. You follow him with your eyes as he walks towards the creaky stairs that lead to the lower deck, utterly confused. 

“Where are you going?” you ask, bewildered at his strange behaviour. 

Turning around, just as he had a mere day ago in your quarters and you feel yourself suppressing a shudder. “I have a crew to consult.”

So he was considering it. 

“But you’re the captain.”

“And?” 

THE SKY IS A lighter sheen of blue, leaning towards the premature hours of the morning. He’d left you untied, and as you gaze into the duned waters in the minimal light, the urge to jump in and create a ripple that goes beyond just the water is less tempting than you’d thought. The prospect of having a dead father, and a dead king, was enough to snap you out of your hysteria despite it being a plot of your own devising. 

You’ve been alone for a while, little indication that there was other life on this ship at all with the lack of human activity. There wasn’t much that you knew of sailing or ship handling, but leaving the deck unmanned for this long gave you the vague impression that you were on a vessel with poor practising pirates. If they’d thought you’d be equipped to handle any hiccups, they’d either find out the hard way, or whenever it was that you could find the wit to bring it up to the pirate captain and his strangely attached crew. 

Something that sounds distinctly like boots are thudding gradually up to the main deck, the unmistakable blond of the pirate captain himself coming into view. You aren’t quite sure what it is, but the low thuds are sending your heart racing, panic overcoming your senses for a brief moment before you recalibrate. It’s only then that you realise it’s been more than 24 hours since the ship was hijacked. Somehow, you could have believed it was a lifetime. 

He’s disturbingly nonchalant, hand at the sheathed hilt of the dagger at his hip, a casual glance around at the empty abyss of ocean and sky. When he reaches the far end of the deck, right above the prow, he stops. 

“Are you going to push me off the rails?” you ask, half genuine, half trying to fill the silence as you face one another. 

“No.” He said it plainly, the single word reply leaving you even more uncomfortable. 

“Have you thought about what I said…with your crew?” you ask, hand coming up to grab the railing for support. 

“I did.” 

“Do I sense an objection?” you ask, swallowing the lump in your throat

“Not exactly,” he says. “We want to hear your master plan for this heist before we agree to anything.” 

He’s asking for a plan, a plan that you do not have.

You aren’t sure how he figured it out, perhaps it was the slight darting of your eyes as you thought of a response, but he seemed to read you like a book. He snorts loudly, “You don’t have a clue, do you?”

“You’ve done this before, you’d know better.”

“And if I led you astray?”

You look at him, this time right into his dark eyes, “Then you lead me astray.” 

“Your contentment with death is wildly unsettling.” There’s a ghost of a sneer at his lip. 

“I’d rather be lounging in the bottom of the ocean than live with a prospective future with my father.” 

“So I’ve heard.”

There’s a huff that leaves you as you steel your voice. “I’m not trying to set you up if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“I doubt you’d have that capability,” he says as he leans his forearms over the railing. You briefly consider pushing him over but think better of it. 

As much as you wanted to be a sneaky link, you simply didn’t have that trait. You blame all the dependency your father’s fostered into you, ensuring that you couldn’t rule without his influence. 

“Are you willing to brew a plan or not? I need to time my dip in the ocean accordingly,” you say, sounding almost disgruntled.

He lets out a big sigh, “Follow me.”

He’s made himself familiar with the ship, you soon realise, as he leads you right downstairs to the lower deck towards the war room. When he opens the door, the room is lit with lamps, casting a golden glow on the reddish interior, warmer than the rest of the ship. 

“Stay here, and don’t do anything stupid,” he tells you as he shuts the door behind him, leaving you alone in the cabin. 

You only exhale in response as you turn away from the door, towards the large table in the centre. It’s slightly cluttered, studying the scrawled notes as you realise they’re all from the Admiral, his directions and plans of course littered across the table. Turning towards the map on the walls, you lift a finger to trace the lifted ridges of snow capped mountains, trailing towards the dipped shallows of the blue water. 

It was an exact replica of the tactile map in the war room back home, and you’re suddenly hit with a pang of nostalgia. Not that you’d been away from home for too long, but the end result of what you're about to do, regardless of the outcome, would change your life forever. 

You feel yourself breathing in the lingering scent of mildew, a strange comfort in the warm quarters.

There’s a creak at the door, and you quickly retract to find the pirate captain back at the door, walking in with a trail of men behind him. You recognise them by their faces, watching as they all take their places in the edges of the room. They look relaxed. You note the pirate captain taking his place behind the main drawing table. 

“Your throne, miss princess.” He gestures exaggeratedly towards the lone cushioned chair across from him. You’re hyper aware of all the eyes that are trailed on you, and you feel almost embarrassed to take the only seat. 

It only lasts for a moment. You walk up to the chair with what you hope exuded confidence and take your place across from the pirate captain. His men circle the edge of the room, and you count five other men. 

He sighs, “I think introductions are in order.”

“Mingyu, Minghao,” he points to the two men that had inspected your window right after you tried breaking it open. 

“Jun,” he gestures to the one who had found you in your quarters the night it all went wrong. 

“Seungkwan and Chan,” you recognize the latter as the one who’d tied you to the mast at his captain’s command. 

“They’ll be helping kill your dear father.” 

It’s silent for a moment as you attempt to moisten your mouth. You’re reminded you haven’t eaten or drank for hours, not since one of them had come up with a tray of whatever they could find for you from the reserves. 

“I know I may not be the most admissible person to trust, or vice versa—” You hear someone snort but choose to ignore it. “But I’m willing to make myself useful to you if it means you would help me too.”

“Would it not be easier to lock him up instead?” someone asks, and you turn to find Seungkwan asking the question from next to the tactile map. 

“He has too many people indebted to him, too many that are too loyal for their own good. I cannot truly rule for as long as he’s alive and well.”

“And how do you expect his loyal court mongers to let you bid favour to the people who killed their king?” the pirate captain asks with a raised brow. 

“Which is why it needs to look like an accident.” 

“How do you reckon we go about that?”

“What message have you given the Admiral?”

“You don’t answer a question with another question—”

“We need to be transparent with each other if either of us wants to make it out relatively unscathed.”

He doesn’t look too happy but he answers anyway, “My ship and five hundred thousand for all our trouble. Two months from now at the Green Islands up north.”

The Green Islands were anything but green, the glaciers being near uninhabitable owed to the ruthless weather. It was smart enough, it’d be near impossible to bring as much violent power that far north, no matter how influential anyone is.  

“Is five hundred thousand all I’m worth?” you feel the beginnings of a sneer rise up your mouth. You aren’t sure what prompted it but you don’t want to fight it either. 

“Didn’t know I was bartering for a fucking princess’ case, did I?” he snaps. “Now tell us how you want us to commit the undetected homicide of a King.”

“We need to blow up his ship.” To your surprise (and maybe even a little horror), the pirate captain breaks into a slight grin. Neither do you miss other bits of his crew releasing a bit of a snicker. 

There’s a flare of defiance within you, “Do you have any better ideas then?” 

“No, no. Go on,” he says with his head hung. You’re surprised he has the character to shield his smile. 

“He doesn’t frequent the seas but I’m almost sure he’d be present at the exchange.”

“Almost?” he questions.

You hesitate. The combined chance of needing the crown home and seeing to the downfall of his enemies would be enough warmth to send him to the greenlands himself. You were confident, but your father could also be unpredictable.

“He’ll be there. I’m sure of it.” 

The pirate captain lifts his head, locking eyes with you. You try not to look as weak as you felt, as unsure as you felt, pooling all the remaining confidence into your face. 

He swallows before looking away, addressing one of the crew members. “How big are we talking?”

Jun looks up like he’s only just begun to pay attention, fumbling over the revolver in his hands as it thuds to the ground like a theatrical mistake, “What?”

His captain sighs before replying, “Explosion. How big does it need to be to blow up a naval ship with a King on it?”

The man brings a hand up to the back of his head, scratching his nape. “If it’s anything like this one, we’re gonna need a lot of ammo.” 

“Just enough to sink it,” you speak before you could decide not to. “Even better if they don’t realise it’s happening.”

He thinks for a moment. “We could plant it in the bilge somehow.”

“But how do we get on that ship? When they’re giving us a tour of the lower decks?” The man you recall as Seungkwan scoffs. 

“Throw a grenade on board somehow?” you hear one of them suggest. 

“Real subtle, Chan,” you hear another mock. 

The war room is in shambles before you know it, loud voices talking over threats to slit throats and to shove people overboard. The room is humid and it feels as though the light from the oil lamps are fading. You close your eyes amidst the utter chaos, rubbing the heel of your palm on your temple in an attempt to soothe the throbbing vein. 

“Enough!” The pirate captain has spoken and you have the urge to ask what took him so long. 

Tranquility once again and you almost thank the man. Before anyone can say another word, nausea begins to build in your stomach. 

It takes you a minute to realise the room was spinning and that you weren’t completely losing your mind. The ship begins to rock harder as the seconds tick by, everybody in the room seemingly still as they perceive the change.

“Batten down the hatches,” the pirate captain says to no one in particular.

Chan is the only one who moves to the door to leave before he’s interrupted. 

“All of you. Those clouds weren’t looking too nice up there, we’ve got a storm on our hands.”

By everyone he surely did not mean you, because as the room rushes out and you hear the thuds of boots clamouring up to the main deck, you’re left alone with the captain. Yet again.

It’s becoming increasingly difficult to keep steady, and you wonder how he’s able to remain balanced while on his feet. It isn’t long before your chair begins to slide as well, the legs croning as they slip on the hardwood. You spring up on instinct, hands coming to the bolted down drawing table to stabilise yourself. 

The pirate captain seems unphased, moving the curtains on the far end to try to get a glimpse at where the water breaks. He steps like he knows exactly where the evermoving floor would be, barely glancing below to gauge his footing. 

“Shouldn’t you be up there?” There’s effort in your voice, your grip on the table as hard as ever as the ship banks to a hard left. He barely grabs the wall in support. 

“Huh? They can figure it out themselves, they’re big boys,” he grunts.

“Your big boys were at each other’s throats a moment ago,” you grunt back, stumbling at a particularly forceful lurch. 

“If you weren’t so ill prepared they wouldn’t need to use their brains, that’s always dangerous,” he shoots back. He’s on the other end of the room, pushing the unbolted cabinet back in its place 

“I gave you a job and it's up to you to see it done, I’m not—ah— I’m not supposed to be planning at all!” 

“Are you?” He’s turned to look at you know, mouth hitched in a snarl as his forehead reflects a light sheen. “Because trying to murder a—”

“Trying to murder a King isn’t a normal task,” you finish for him in a hiss. “Yes, as you’ve reiterated a million times.”

“Great, so you know!” Sarcasm is a deadly look on him, you realise as he walks over from the cabinet to where you were in the middle of the room. The waves have given in, the rocking becoming significantly slower. “Now do you mind telling us about a plan that actually has better odds?”

Your white knuckles have relented, the hands that gripped the table coming loose as you stare back at the pirate in defiance. “I should just hand you over.”

“It’s sweet you think you’re in charge here,” the grit in his voice is evident. “This isn’t your turf anymore, miss princess.”

“You don’t trust me, and you don’t give me reason to trust you—ugh.”

The waves seemed to have decided she hadn’t had enough just yet, this particular lurch sending you hurtling backwards into the wall, back hitting the hardwood as the stable pirate himself loses his footing. You could almost believe you’d landed sideways with the gravity that’s lost its way beneath your feet. 

The chair you were once sitting on is hurtling towards you with a vengeance, gaining momentum as you simply watch it approach like a wooden bullet. A boot clad foot kicks it to the other end and you realise the pirate captain’s gotten hold of his bearings before you have. 

“What happened to being transparent with one another?” he huffs, breathless and wide eyed as he attempts to pull himself to his feet. 

There’s another lurch that sends you both skidding towards the table, just short of grabbing on before you’re hurtled into the cabinet that had moved again, and now slams back into the wall with the weight of the sea and two humans with a bang!

“Fine. You give me your ammo to blow up the bilge, let me on the ship with my dear father and one of you scoops in and saves me before I drown with him,” you yell over the sounds of clanging and banging of everything on this cursed ship, and the whooshing and thunders of the skies, winds and water. “And if I riddled the chances of you letting me drown with my father? Where does that leave me?”

“On the bottom of the seabed,” he deadpans. “But that also leaves me without my freedom.”

You find the opportunity to look at him for a moment, and he’s looking at you too. He looks away towards the door, already making moves to walk out and join his crew above deck. The conversation was over, and it was evident in your lack of reply.

Mother nature, however, sends another one in as a surprise and you're both sent flying to the other end of the ship, yet again. 

There’s a cushion to your blow this time as you find yourself landing right into the pirate captain’s chest, hand above his heart in your instinct to save yourself any more bruises. Between your bickering and the staggering of the ship, his shirt had flown open nearly down to his navel. 

Your eyes barely register the nasty scar across his left pec, instead moving upwards to lock eyes with him. It’s insanity, how you instinctively dart your eyes towards his half open mouth. 

“If you wanted me that bad, miss princess, you could’ve just asked.”

Whatever airborne drug that’d been willy nillying in your noggin seems to spin into a rage as his words register a moment too late. Clenched jaw and a vice grip on his shirt, you spit back. 

“I don’t ask for things. They come to me.”

There’s a crash above you and you realise the oil lamp that was suspended above has shattered, raining glass over your forms. 

Expect you don’t feel it, because he’s ducked over you and suspended his arms in the air to catch the crystalline. 

Before you can decide whether it was instinct or not, you hear a yell at the door.

“Captain! One of the—oh.” 

A barely balancing Mingyu, is staring into the now dimly lit war room, his captain and their supposed prisoner pressed against one another in a dark corner of the room. 

Your instinct forces you to take a slow step backwards. 

“Get back up,” he snarls, already pushing past you to stalk towards the door. He actually makes it this time, shoving Mingyu into the hall towards the stairs. 

Not as much as a glance back before he slams the door shut, leaving you in the tattered war room alone, shards of glass at your feet.

THE STORM SEEMS TO have done its damage as it calmed itself for the rest of the morning and well into the day. 

One of them had come down and escorted you to your quarters, Chan telling you that you could keep it while the rest of them adjusted in the other cots and quarters aboard. Changing out of your ragged, days old clothes felt luxurious, the familiar scent of your quarters putting your tense shoulders at ease; or at least a semblance of such. 

Neither you nor the captain have attempted to speak to each other after the incident in the war room. Having berated yourself for letting your guard down enough, you chalked it up to the lack of food and sleep and put the matter to rest in some deeply buried chest in your head. 

For now you board up the door of your cabin (because you haven’t completely lost it), and burrow under the covers for some much needed shut eye. 

You aren’t sure how long the universe lets you rest, because unless you’ve slept all the way to the Green Islands the banging on the door seems incessant enough to warrant an arrest of its own. The sleep is slow to leave, and it’s hard enough to push an entire drawer against a door, the bleariness paired with whoever the fuck was outside the door isn’t making it easier to push it away from the entrance either. 

By the time you’ve wrenched the door open, you’re thoroughly annoyed, and met with a very alarmed Seungkwan. 

“Oh thank goodness, I was about to try opening it,” he says, looking genuinely relieved. “I thought you might’ve….anyway.”

“You weren’t trying to break in before?” you ask.

He only thrusts a tray of rations and water towards you, “Captain said to give this to you.”

Accepting the tray, you try to balance it in one hand with furrowed brows, “Oh.”

“Um. That’s it, sorry for waking you up.” He makes a move like he’s about to turn around and leave but falters. “If…if you need anything a bunch of us are on the main deck.”

And then he’s gone. 

You take it as your cue to shut the door, kicking one of the heftier pieces of furniture against it before moving back inside. 

When you peer up your tiny window, it’s late afternoon and the beginnings of orange on the surface tell you the sun is beginning to set. You decide it was a good enough amount of sleep. Setting the tray down on the smaller than usual desk, you find that these pirates do not have a knack for subtlety. Many of your letters and papers are haphazardly stacked and shoved into one corner of the table, very obviously sifted through. 

Not that you care too much, there was nothing awfully important that you wouldn't have told them yourself. Ripping off a piece of bread from the tray, you take pleasure in chewing as loudly and as open mouthed as you wished, plucking the parchment at the top of the pile to study. 

It’s another one signed by your father, not a question of your wellbeing in sight as he scrawls ink on paper all the incorrect things you did in the Southerner’s banquet last month. If anything, you were glad the stupid Admiral was away from your presence, his incessant habit of reporting your every breath and turn to your father was becoming too much to handle. 

This was one of his tamer letters, less insults attached to his criticisms but a pain to read anyway. You don’t brush away the crumbs that fall onto the parchment. 

There is not a diplomatic bone in your body. Perhaps move on from drinks and dessert and into more important territories besides the Duke’s son. Our kingdom needs a ruler that’s strong, not one that forgets where she is after a sip of brandy!

If you squint hard enough, it almost reads as a parent scolding a child for a spill, like regardless of what you did, he might just love you the same. 

You wonder how good of a mood he was in when he wrote this. 

Sifting through the rest of the papers you take a mental note of every reason he’s given you to believe that you’d be a hopeless ruler, a few years ago you even questioned why he kept you around before realising his contradicting intentions. As you read, letter by letter, you think of reasons you know are going to make you a better ruler, better than him and better than his stupid court of old men.

These pirates are a blessing, you think, and you aren’t about to let this chance from the universe drown in these waters.

HOSHI ISN'T IN TROUBLE. No, he isn’t. On his butt on the sleek floorboards of the ship, his own golden dagger glinting in the sunlight as it's held in a threatening hold, except it isn���t in his hands. 

It’s pointed right into his jugular vein, held by some grimy sailor who considers himself something akin to a pirate. Perhaps the stench this sorry excuse of a crew carries around may be their idea of a criteria, but as Hoshi remains inches away from death, all he can think about is the atrocious fingers around his dagger, and all the scrubbing he’s going to be doing after this is all over. 

Mingyu had warned him, told him to take down the flag of the navy from the mast, the royal seal in the smack middle of the ginormous thing. He brushed it off. He wasn’t quite sure if he was tipsy, hungry or just plain exhausted when he made that decision, because he’d forgotten just how stupid some of these simpleton sailors could get. 

They were taken by surprise, their only weapons mops and buckets of soapy water as they were ambushed by some overlooked wherry that had suddenly thrown hooks over their railing and climbed up like uninvited sewer rats. 

In the initial confusion, interrupted mid-chorus of some pretty siren and her pirate prince, the first few intruders had simply crumpled over onto the slippery deck, a few slipping overboard completely from the suds and water on the wood. His crew, and Hoshi himself, could only stand and watch as the newcomers sabotaged themselves for a few incredulous moments before they gained their bearings. 

Chan and Seungkwan swang their mops right into the necks of a couple, sending them into the ocean without waiting for a splash. 

Hoshi slips out his dagger with practised ease, swinging the butt of the hilt over the head of another ambushing intruder, right on the head as he crumpled to the floor with a loud thud. He kicks him over for an indication of where he came from. No ink that shows an alliance, no brooch or jewels with a crest. 

New guys, ones that were clearly still learning the ropes. 

Hoshi’s crew had better senses than required for him to yell out orders, and it only took a few more disgruntled minutes to disable the remaining extra men aboard. 

“Where the fuck did these guys come from?” he asks no one in particular, mostly just annoyed that they were disturbed. 

Minghao, who’s peeking over the railing replies, “It’s a tiny thing. They either lost their actual boat or didn’t have one at all.”

He vaguely registers him making a jerking arm movement over the exterior before he hears a wail and a splash. “Disgusting.” Minghao holds his hands away from his body like he didn’t want it anymore. 

Hoshi’s mistake was keeping his guard down, because before anyone could warn him, the dagger that he held loosely against his hip had slipped out his palm. The next thing he knows, his neck is in some grimy sleeve’s grip, and the point of his dagger is lodged into his own throat. He holds his breath, afraid he might pass out completely from the stench alone. 

“Not a move.” He sounds like a boy more than anything, but his grip indicates a harsher life. “Everybody into that fishing boat. I’ll throw this one in when you’re done.” 

He sounds unstable, but that only makes him more dangerous. Hoshi can’t try to wiggle his way out of this one, one wrong move and it’s the end. His crew can’t do anything as they stand with broken mops and empty buckets as their weapons. 

It was stupid of him to even allow himself to be cornered like this, not when he’s weaselled his way out of more dangerous situations with more ease than this. 

His crew looks at him, and he can only close his eyes in encouragement. He watches as Jun steps over one of the defeated bodies to reach the hooks that’ve lodged into the railing. His movements are slow, and he can tell he notices the unhinged nature of this boy that he doubts is barely over 17. 

Chan follows, then Seungkwan as Jun double checks the integrity of the ropes. He’s stalling. 

“Hurry!” It was supposed to come out as a threat, but it sounded more like a plea from the boy. 

And then Jun stops completely, his eyes trained on Hoshi. His eyes are wide, his grip on the rope so tight he can see the whites of his knuckles from the other side of the ship. 

No, he wasn’t looking at him, he was looking behind him. Before he can register, there’s a loud bang of a gunshot, and Hoshi feels the body of his captor slump against his back, his dagger dropping to the ground with an ominous clang. He falls with him, turning over to push the dead weight of the body off of him. 

There’s smoke in the air when Hoshi looks back and it takes him a moment to realise who just basically saved his life. 

You stand in your nightgown, shawl over your shoulders, and a revolver, Jun’s revolver, clenched tightly in both hands. It remains frozen in the air, hovering as he takes in your face. Eyes wide, mouth open slightly, the colour drained from your face. 

Hoshi scrambles to get up as the rest of the crew swarm both him and you. He grabs his dagger before anything else, looking back to see a bullet lodged in the back of his captor’s skull, blood pooling the deck. 

He looks back at you shoving the revolver back into Jun’s hands eagerly, like you didn’t want to feel the warmth of the metal any more than you wanted to make that shot. 

He looks back at the cooling body, and then back at you, an undeniable warmth overcoming his chest. 

You just saved his life.

“Are you alright?” he hears Chan ask you. You nod slowly, and then quickly. 

“Where did you find this?” Jun asks. 

“Uh, in one of the quarters. Downstairs. I went down because I thought it’d be safer, you were handling it and I didn’t want to get in the way. But then…all your weapons were there.” 

Your voice sounds airy, like you were in a daze. Hoshi comes to the stark realisation that this may have been your first time with a weapon, and then even more horrifying, your first kill. 

“I’m sorry, I just thought it was getting out of hand and—” 

“It’s alright,” Seungkwan says. He watches as you let him lead you back down the stairs below decks. 

It was like the shock turned you into a different person, complacent, less defiant. Seungkwan clearly had more of an emotional range, because it certainly took Hoshi too long to realise you might be on the edge of panic. 

Hoshi doesn’t say a word as you disappear, the smell of gunpowder from the singular shot wafting through the deck. He doesn’t realise he’s staring into space until Mingyu interrupts. 

“Should we—”

“Throw them overboard,” Hoshi says, voice flat. 

“But, this one seems like he’ll come around. We could question him and drop him off wherever next—”

“He’s a shit seaman, if even a pirate, he’s got what came for him. Throw. Him. Overboard.” Hoshi is out of breath, yet grits the words out through clenched teeth. “All of them.”

Hoshi slips his dagger back into its sheath at his hip. All he can think about is your blown pupils and you in your nightgown. All he can think about is how they were almost bested by a child. All he can think about is how you had to make that final shot to save his ass, that he couldn’t do it himself. 

Mingyu senses his mood and asks no more questions, simply pushing the remaining bodies out into the water. He vaguely registers Minghao sending the men a prayer into the sea. Mingyu’s already trying to get the stupid naval flag off the mast, stripping off his jacket and disposing of it at the base to start climbing. 

Chan pushes a clean rag into his chest, and he looks down to receive it and notes a tinge of blood at his collar. Right, he was bleeding. 

They go back to cleaning, except it’s a lot more silent. 

Jun walks back up to help, but this time he has both of his clean, black revolvers strapped at his hip.

THERE WERE FEWER PEOPLE in the war room this time around, the captain sits beside Mingyu, Jun and Minghao as they attempt to sketch out a crude rendition of your discussion. The pirate captain does nothing but use his dagger to pick under his nails, barely speaking as he listens in on the conversation. 

Not that you cared, you and the rest of his crew seemed to get along better than you did with the captain anyway. Saving the man’s life seemed to hold no weight to him, not that you expected it but a ‘thank you’ would have sufficed. 

“Keep the grenade til the last minute if it makes you feel better, so you’ll know I’m not trying to sink the wrong ship,” you sigh as you clarify. Minghao doesn’t reply as he scribbles the details. Jun rolls his eyes at his meticulous nature. 

“We need to port in the next couple days if I’m gonna finish this grenade in time,” he says, looking at his captain pointedly. 

“We can stop at Port Ash,” Hoshi says. 

Port Ash was no man’s land, which also meant it was every man’s land. 

Being mostly occupied by pirates and other thieves and criminals it was considered dangerous territory for anyone who didn’t speak in lies, deceit and fists. This crew would fit right in, but you worry for yourself. 

“That’s not gonna be till a week and a half,” Mingyu interjects. 

Jun frowns as he looks at Mingyu and then back at his captain, “I can’t wait that long.”

“We’ll pick up what we can at Hasry when we stop for rations,” Hoshi replies. 

“But—”

“Deal with it. There’s nothing we can do about it.”

Jun looks like he wants to say something, and Mingyu has the good sense to interject again to ask more questions about the plan. 

“How much manpower do you think the king’ll have?” he asks.

You sigh, crossing your arms as you lean back in your chair. “I have no idea. Could be five, could be fifty.”

“Not even an inkling?”

“Considering how he wants the lot of you gone, it’s probably on the larger side. But…” you pause. 

“But?”

“He’s smart. Always seemingly one step ahead. I wouldn’t be surprised if he catches us blind.” 

“I know enough about that,” Hoshi snorts. There’s a glint in his eye that suggests something, but you don’t press.

“I was wondering…we should probably change course even if it takes us longer. My father might intercept—”

“Did that. Didn’t take the obvious alternative route either,” Mingyu replies, and you note that he looks proud of himself. “We can take our time too, the ransom note suggested we took the way past Scarsfield.”

“We should be careful of other boats anyway,” you say, gulping down a lump in your throat before continuing. “Those other sailors could’ve been my father’s men too, for all we know.”

“They were on a smaller boat too,” Hoshi adds, he looks like he’s making connections in his brain. “What’re the odds they were dropped farther back into a smaller boat?”

There’s a pause as you absorb what he’s implying. “Are you saying they’re on our tail?”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” he says, exhaling heavily through his nose. “He’s done it before. It was a sorry attempt then and it was a sorry attempt now.”

“How did you shake him off last time?”

The panic in your chest is barely there, but as you register the possibility, you find yourself breathing increasingly heavy. 

“Circling farther out before going the opposite way so we wouldn’t cross paths.” He shakes his head. “But we can’t do that now, not when we can’t afford detouring. The port stops are as late as I’m willing to go.”

“What if we skip Hasry? It’s our more obvious stop, we’ll just stop at Ash later,” Minghao suggests. 

“We’ll starve, we’ve got no food,” Hoshi gruffs.

“Portwater?” 

“Too far.”

It’s silent yet again as everyone racks their brains. You feel very useless all of a sudden, you didn’t know the names of harbours or ports this far out.

“We’ll just port at Hasry and be extra careful, there’s nothing we can do.” Hoshi sighs at his own ultimatum. 

He gets up and walks around the table to the door, “I’ll update the others.”

You glance as he walks past you, his figure leaving a gust of wind in your face. He smelled nice, which was saying something considering the state some pirates are known to be in. As he brushes past, your gaze is met with the other side of the war room, an empty oil lamp bracket on the wall. 

The memory of the storm floods your mind, and suddenly your cheeks are burning. Snapping your head back, you're thankful they’re all absorbed in the papers and plans on the table, oblivious to the memory that’s flashed before your eyes. Mingyu was the one who saw you in your compromising position, and you didn’t know him well enough to decide whether he’d do something as dumb as dish out his captain’s ‘affairs’. 

You file out the room with them. They don’t escort you to your rooms, make sure you stay in one place, restrict your wandering anymore. Perhaps they’d realised you weren’t actively attempting to sink the ship anymore, or that if you jumped off the edge it didn’t matter to them that much, but you appreciated the space anyway. 

Briefly catching Seungkwan filling Mingyu in on the past couple hours they’d been below deck, you turn over to catch his eye. He waves, and you wave back. You don’t realise what you did till it already happened, noting the smile on his face as he did it. You choose to move past it and find the captain. 

There was something you wanted from him. 

There’s no trace of him on the main deck, eyes scanning the area to no avail. A movement from above catches your peripheral attention, eyes squinting as you crane your neck up to look. Hoshi has leaned his back against the railing of the crow’s nest, arms crossed, visible hand occupied with a brass telescope that glints in the sunlight. 

He isn’t using it though, merely gazing at the horizon with furrowed brows. As though he could see better without the device in his hand. In the few minutes that you’re looking at him, you notice the muraled, multicoloured shirt that blows with the wind, a kaleidoscope of beiges, greens and reds. The crop of his blonde hair blends in with the clear blue-white sky. 

Briefly wondering how he’s managing the impossible heat, a hand coming over your own eyes as a visor, you simply look back down. Seungkwan is next to you. You aren’t quite sure how he got there, but he stands next to you, hands on his hips, a pleasant expression on his face. 

“Is there anything you want when we dock? We’re trying to make a list,” he says. Somehow, the prospect of pirates making lists boggled you a little. It was a little jarring, not quite sure why he asked a captive anyway.

But then again, were you a captive anymore?

“I don’t think so, no,” you reply and then juggle whether you should push it with another measly formality. “Thank you for asking.”

“That was your first kill, wasn’t it?”

“What?” You knew what he was talking about, but you weren’t expecting him to bring it up in the moment when he’s asking you about restocking supplies. And especially not with a smile on his face. 

“That day, when you used Jun’s revolver to shoot the lad.” 

A kid. He was a child. 

“I…yeah I’d never done it before.”

“What made you do it?” he asks, remaining as nonchalant as ever. 

“I—I don’t know, it looked like there wasn’t another option,” you say, not quite sure of yourself either. 

Why did you shoot him? You’d never laid hands on a gun before, your father forced you into the category of archery and crossbows, not that you were very good at them either but it was also because you simply wanted to spite your father by being plain bad. It worked, because it only took a year and a half and an arrow straight into his study window to retire from the sport entirely.

Even then, your targets had been apples, barrels and tree trunks. Never a person. 

You’d heard of what people tended to do in pressuring situations, and with the way the aftermath unfolded, it didn’t seem like you made the wrong decision to pick up that revolver anyway. 

But the feeling lingers, the same one that you saw as you gazed into the back of the boy that held the captain of this ship hostage. It felt wrong. Like watching the pirate captain cornered was a picture you couldn’t quite make sense of in your head. 

So you pulled the trigger. 

“In any case, we’re glad you made that decision. We all owe you for it.”

You don’t know what to say to that, so you gulp, inhale and press your lips in a line. “That’s a lot for a pirate to say.”

“I know.”

BY THE TIME YOU manage to corner Hoshi it’s already the next day, and you’re only a couple hours away from docking at Hasry. 

It’s an anxious ordeal, the crow’s nest constantly occupied by someone trying to catch sight of a possible tail. There was no sign, yet anyway. 

“I want to learn to use a knife.”

He was piling coiled ropes when you’d said it, pushing the heap to the side, sweating through his clothes. There was a flash of confusion on his face as he registered you. 

“Why? So you can slit all our throats in our sleep?” he grumbles as he pushes a barrel against the railing. He’s too aggressive, and the force has the splashback soaking his clothes in freshwater, tsk-ing audibly. 

You ignore the way his previously loose shirt now sticks to him, ignore the way the droplets land on your boots when he shakes his sleeve. 

“We’ve discussed what we might be up against, I don’t want to be useless when the time comes.”

“Seemed pretty alright with that revolver.”

“Anyone can shoot a gun,” you say, getting the sudden urge to fidget with the front of your shirt. You try to make your voice sound as declarative as possible. “I want to learn to fight. With a knife, with a sword, with my hands if I have to.” 

He doesn’t say anything as you look down, fiddling with the tassels on your shirt. Your excuse was the sun and the way it was beating down on the deck this afternoon, getting tired of squinting to simply look straight. When the silence prolongs you look up to push further, juggling with bringing up the fact that you saved his life and that, as Seungkwan very graciously told you, he owes you. 

The sound your throat makes is unhuman, because when you look up the captain's soaked shirt is now off his back. 

The skin is near white from the glare of the sun, remnants of glazed water that’s somehow made its way to his back as well. The dip in his shoulder blade reflected a dark marking, one that you couldn’t make out. 

He wrings it as you can only watch, mouth gaping like a fish. Hanging it over one of the suspended ropes to dry, he mutters as he walks to the lower decks. 

“Fine,” he says nonchalantly. “We’ll get you a knife at Hasry.”

Hasry. Right. 

The port is quiet, at least as quiet as a port can be. There’s not much to see but fishermen both returning and leaving for another week's worth of fish supply. Minghao manages to pay and convince the harbourmaster that they were merchants on their way back to the Kingdom, stopping for supplies. The naval make of the ship helped, and then the crew pulled lines and ropes secured from masts in ways you couldn’t quite decipher. 

You assumed you would stay on board, yet when Chan knocked and brought you some roughspun clothes from the town, you were informed you’d be joining them. 

Hoshi deemed it safer, keeping the rest of the crew on board while he, along with you and Seungkwan, ventured into the village to get what was needed and leave before the sun fully set. If they really were being followed, the ship was going to be the first thing they seized. 

Pulling the grey shawl further up your head, you attempt to look as blended as you could, Chan pressing down your shoulders to force you into a slouch. 

“Stop walking like you're important,” he had said. 

“I’m a princess,” you snapped back, but he wasn’t listening, only jabbing at you to keep the haughtiness out of your tone before it caught somebody’s attention. 

The town was a quaint little place, something out of what you were read from storybooks, reminiscent of the paintings that you’d run past on the walls of the palace. The streets cleaner than you’d expected, the faint scent of baked goods in the air mixed with, onion soup, was it? In any case you were glad you were past the fish market, the yelling and the stench nearly sending you to the pavement, gagging. 

When Hoshi returns, you and Chan are looking at a jewellery stall that’s selling necklaces, bracelets and anklets that look like rosaries; colours of deep ocean blue and sunset pinks, beautifully vibrant against their grey canvas backdrop. 

You can only observe from afar, instructed to not interact with anyone while he was gone. Hoshi was gone to get food supplies, but returned empty handed. Systems were in place, that the crates would be on their way to the “big naval ship” at the docks for the rest of the crew to receive.

“They said there was a blacksmith up this alley” Hoshi says, eyes also trained on the uncharacteristically colourful jewellery stall, but he does nothing to move towards it. “We can get your knife there.”

“Knife?” Chan asks, confused. 

“Miss princess wants to learn to fight—”

“Don’t!” Chan hisses, eyeing the men in black uniform that patrol the market from the shadows. 

“It’s fine, they’re too far,” Hoshi says. “Let’s get this over with.”

You do find a blacksmith, an older man with a greying beard and bloodshot eyes that presents Hoshi and Chan with an array of knives and daggers. Either they were able to give an excuse, or he gave no mind to the third woman that trailed behind, the blacksmith continued to deal with the two men as they haggle over prices. 

There’s another seller a ways away, and she’s laid out her goods on the floor on what looks like old drapes. It’s a woman, not much older than you were, unravelling a long string of leather cord. She cuts it, strings a charm through and seals the frayed end with a candle flame that burns at her side. 

The curtain she’s laid her accessories on is patterned with bright colours, and you realise you can’t make out any of it from where you stand. 

Glancing behind you, the men are still occupied with their bartering, seemingly forgetting of your presence. Taking a step back, you pretend to skim through the neighbouring stalls, glancing breezily at woven baskets, layers of folded fabric and towers of painted ceramic cups. 

You stop before the laid out array of more necklaces and earrings, scanning the ground. The vendor looks up and gives you a big, crooked toothed smile, urging you to come forward, to take a look at what she has to offer. 

Something does catch your eye, and you immediately crouch down to see it better. Picking up the necklace from the charm, you let the gold and red rest on your fingers as you study the make. 

“That one’s new,” the woman says. “Practical too.”

The small brass letter opener that’s looped through the cord looks like it could do its job just fine despite its miniscule size. 

“It’s quite popular among the busy merchants,” the vendor speaks in a rough tone, almost like she had a perpetual sore throat. “Easier to use this instead of looking for those bulky ones in their neverending drawers and—and in their cabinets.”

She lets out a laugh, “Quite pretty too.”

You stare at it for a moment, “How much?”

“Ten coin.”

You sigh, setting the necklace back down onto the cloth. Standing straight, you turn to walk away before she yells again. 

“I’ll do seven!” 

You consider whether you should speak, but you also doubt you’d be recognized just by the sound of your voice.

"I don’t have coin,” you rasp. 

“How about that pretty thing on your finger then?” she asks. 

The ring on your middle finger is a simple band of silver, a coming of age present from your father’s court a few years ago. You stare at the band, worth boatloads more than what this woman in an alley was offering you.

But you find yourself moments later, middle finger empty, and pocket lined with the long leather necklace with the miniature letter opener charm. 

By the time you return to the blacksmith’s shop front, Chan is handing the man his coin as Hoshi holds an object sheathed in fabric. They turn around just soon enough to make it seem like you never left. 

“Why are you standing so far away?” Chan asks. “Come closer.”

You listen, moving closer to the both of them as they get ready to make the trek back to the docks where the ship waits. 

“The crates have probably been loaded too,” Hoshi says, his hands suddenly empty. You assume he’s pocketed the knife somewhere. “Let’s hurry and leave before—”

“Princess?”

It was your mistake that you turned around to acknowledge the title, something you realise as soon as you register the man that spoke to you. 

Henley was a stout man, dressed even now in the finest suit of a berry colour, hair white as a ghost. There was no reason for a merchant so rich he had ties with the royal family to be wandering in a harbour market, but he also had every reason to be here. 

If it was the recognition in your eyes, or the fact that they were just being smart, you feel one of the pirates wrap their fingers around your upper arm and pull you to walk away from the alley. 

“Princess!” Henley yells and you cringe at his volume. People are looking now, and you briefly wonder why you aren’t running yet. 

Your heart is pounding against your chest so hard it’s deafening any other sound in your ears, you still don’t know which one has a hold of you, but you let them guide you into a speed walk as you exit the narrow alleys of the main market. 

The shawl above your head is pushed further down, shielding your face in a shadow. There’s nothing in your mind other than Clarence Henley and his rich suit, his gold pocket watch, his trimmed, white hair. His face that you only ever saw within palace walls, always accompanied by your father. 

There’s a good chance you’re shaking, because you can feel your body rejecting it with the pain in your palms that you can only consider to be your own nails pressing into your hand. 

The stench of the fish market helps, bringing you back from your daze as you finally register the ground beneath your feet. It’s only a few more minutes till you reach the docks and you’re suddenly being pushed up the ramp that leads to the main deck of the ship.

It’s immediate comfort, the familiar brown of the floorboards, the scent of saltwater and warping sounds of the sails. You’re led to your quarters, where you finally let the makeshift hood and cape fall. 

“Are you alright?” 

Snapping your head up, you’re met with Seungkwan and his concerned gaze. 

“Oh, erm.” Your voice sounds…not like your own. 

“It’s okay, breathe.” It helps, because it really did feel like you’d forgotten to breathe. 

“We’re leaving in just a few, everything’s been loaded. Nobody followed you on board, don’t worry.”

Right. You were on the ship, you were in your quarters with some of the most feared pirates on the seas. 

The way Seungkwan is easing you through your gulps of water suggests legends in the mix, but you appreciate it regardless. 

When you’ve come round, feeling more like yourself, the ship has already left Hasry Harbour, sailing into the deeper waters of the ocean. 

“Captain said they couldn’t run because it just would’ve been more suspicious,” Seungkwan informs you as you nod. “Did you…did you recognise him? The man at the market.” 

The thoughts come flooding back, the colour of his suit, the jarring nature of a man of such wealth standing in a rundown port market. 

“He’s a merchant, one of the wealthiest. A friend of my father’s. If he even has any friends.” 

You pause as you think about the near blackout you’d had, the way the panic more than boiled over, taking over your senses and your rationality. 

“I think…” you trail off. “I think I just felt like it was the end. I finally had an opportunity to get rid of that tyrant and seeing something that was from home, felt…it felt like I was going to end up right back where I started.”

Seungkwan doesn’t say a word as you digest your own words, accepting your own fear that had rendered you useless in the time it probably mattered most. 

“Do you feel better now?”

“A little,” you answer. 

“Maybe a weapon can help.”

At the door stands Hoshi, a stern expression on his face as he looks directly at you on the bed. In his hands, the same fabric covered knife he acquired at the market. 

You know that you asked for this, but the jolt in your stomach still makes itself known. 

“He’s right,” Seungkwan says, lifting from his chair. “Blades have a way of calming you in any case.”

You note the glinting hilt of Seungkwan’s sword sheathed at his hip, remember Hoshi’s own daggers that he seems to be emotionally attached to. 

Lifting your head back to Hoshi, you ask, “Can we start now?”

He smirks. 

ALL NIGHT, THE STUPID pirate captain had you taking swings at the air. 

“Your opponent’s baked a fruit cake by the time you were done with that swing,” he comments, continuously unhelpful. “Swing faster.”

It’s nighttime, nothing but a few oil lamps on the floor of the deck keeping you and Hoshi in the light. Your shoulder burns, your forearms are liquid, and your non-existent opponent remains forever stronger than you. 

“I’m done,” you huff, thoroughly spent. Crumbling to the floor, you bring your non-dominant hand up to your aching shoulder in an attempt to massage it. 

It’s been a while, the moon high up in the sky when you finally decide to quit it for the night. He lets you go without a fight, and you doubt you’d have the energy to if he decided to do it anyway. 

The following day, he’s tweaked his regiment a little, and you find that you’re finally swinging at something tangible; him. 

He leaves himself open, an invitation to strike wherever you want. You feign for his shoulder, but he sees you coming from a mile away, already deflecting your flattened blade that comes for his thigh.

“Don’t look where you want to strike, you’re giving yourself away.”

Furrowing your brows, you dislodge your knife from his own and back away again. He’s immediately cocking a brow, telling you to come at him again. You go for his middle, slashing your knife in an arc as he simply deflects. 

“Come on, find a pace,” he grunts. 

Coming down with your knife again, he blocks you but this time with his forearm, pushing you back by the wrists. It was a battle of strength, as he forces your wrists down. He was stronger than you, and there was no way you could push away, so you dispel your own force. He stumbles from the sudden forward force, and you pull away to take a swing from above. 

He recovers faster than you thought he would, already coming up when you’re ready to swing. He raises a hand to deflect, half a moment too late as your blade slashes across the heel of his hand. 

There’s a brief splash of red against the blue backdrop of the sky, and you gasp on instinct, immediately moving away. 

There’s an apology ready on your lips, mouth gaping as you watch him inspect the wound. You don’t get to say anything because he beats you to it. 

“Deep enough,” he comments, like he was inspecting a painting. “Keep this up and you might actually be good by the end of the week.”

Oh. 

“Alright,” he says again, moving back into position.

“Are you gonna wrap that?” you ask, referring to the bloody hand. 

“It’s fine, I’ve fought with worse,” he says. 

You blink as you reluctantly get back into position, bracing yourself as you continue to look at his hand dripping blood onto the deck. 

“You’re getting the hang of pacing, but you need to start considering your blade as an extension of yourself—JESUS!”

You’ve swung at him faster than you ever have, putting everything into that single tug of your knife. He wasn’t expecting it, still talking over your glances at his palm. He had his guard down, and you took the chance. He ducks on instinct, but it could’ve been another scar for him to remember if you’d made it. 

You stumble as he circles you to the other end, flattening his blade on your back.

“Nice try,” he says. “Really nice try. But you never turn your back to your opponent.”

“I lost my footing,” you defend, but even you knew that wasn’t an excuse. 

“And I just stabbed you in the back. And now I’ll have to present your corpse to your father and hope he’ll accept it and give me my ship. We all lose.” 

The pressure of the blade leaves your back and you're suddenly left looking stupid despite doing something somewhat right. 

“You’d just swindle another poor sailor off his boat and move on,” you say. “You’re a slippery thing.”

He has a smile on his face that borders a smirk yet is innocently mischievous enough. It’s a strange sight, bloody hand, relaxed face. There’s a clean-ish rag on a nearby closed barrel that he uses to wipe the excess blood off his hands. 

“I keep going because I live without regret.��

You can only roll your eyes as a scoff leaves your mouth before you can stop it. You simply turn around, settling to the floor, going back to massaging your still aching shoulder. That last blow only made it worse.

“I don’t regret things, miss princess. Ask me why.”

You remain silent. 

“Come on,” he urges, that silly smile remaining on his face. He’s washing the wound now with freshwater from the barrel.

Sighing, you ask him, “Why?”

“Because I don’t ever do things I’d regret.”

“That insinuates you think before you act.”

“Right-O,” he declares, wrapping another torn cloth on his cleaned wound.

“Funny,” you answer. “Because I dont think I’ve ever seen any hint of light behind your eyes.”

He turns around to you, sheathing his dagger at his hip, a dangerous look in his eye.

“You’ve looked into my eyes?” 

The clench in your jaw must have been visible, or the look of disgust on your face might’ve been apparent just the same, because the pirate captain simply laughs out loud before retreating towards the stairs to go below deck. 

“I’ll send Jun up, practise with him.”

You wanted to send your knife, point first, hurtling into his retreating form. 

Never turn your back to your opponent, my ass. 

But you don’t, mostly because he’d probably manage to deflect that too. So you resort to sitting cross legged on the deck, staring at your dagger while waiting for Jun to meet you upstairs. 

Hoshi said he picked the knife based on a number of things you’d already forgotten, something about carbon steel and having a good grip. It’s quite pretty, you’ll have to admit. It’s plain silver, but the reflection it makes in the sun makes it difficult to look away. You’d gotten used to the handle and how it fit in your palm, Hoshi assured you that the more you used it, the more the hilt would mould into your grip. 

Jun stomps onto the deck, revolver-less and instead equipped with an array of knives that he deposits on the deck. 

“Should’ve picked a plain old gun,” he grumbles as he holds one of the longer blades in his hand. “Job’s done and you don’t need to get within ten feet.”

“Don’t have to reload a knife, do I?” you comment, taking the first swing. 

Jun may have an affinity for guns and explosives, but his handling with a knife was still nothing below an expert level. He pushes your arm off before spending you into a ballroom spin, flatting his blade at your collarbone. 

That could’ve been your throat.

“No, but by now I could’ve shot you, thrown you overboard, and been on my way to a nap,” he says in your ear, before releasing you as you get back into position again. 

That could’ve been your throat.

THE FOLLOWING WEEK PASSES with your days and nights muddled into a strange mixture of swinging knives and taking breaks slumped against the deck of the ship, unmoving. 

It’s a particularly hot day, the giant glowing orb beating down on the deck with no mercy. Not that it stops you, because the sun remains unwavering, high in the sky, and you remain unwavering in your wide legged stances as you lunge for Chan again. 

Chan’s entire being glistens in the afternoon light, the beads of sweat that he wipes off his forehead only seem to reappear every couple minutes. His clothes cling to him like a second skin, taking long breaths through his teeth amidst the difficult, humid air. 

You don’t doubt you look the same, one hand in your hair suggesting you just took a bath in your own sweat. But Chan seems accustomed to the heat, and while you weren’t, you couldn’t deny your growing comfortability with it all. 

It’d been a while since your meal, hence your sluggish movements were slowly turning increasingly sharp, having cornered Chan multiple times in the duration. You’re determined to not be the one to call for a time out, so you find yourself pushing beyond what you’ve been doing for the past week or so. 

There’s a particular punch of heat at your sides, and you can feel yourself slowing. 

One deep breath, a slow exhale.

It’s all clangs and reflections of knives, tiny droplets of blood as evidence of both of your tiny, unintentional nicks and cuts. You’re succeeding, pushing the man further and further back. 

“You’re getting sloppy, aim for the blade not my tendons,” Chan seethes through his teeth. 

“I’m trying,” you grunt through the effort. 

You’re set back for a couple minutes before you go back to pushing. Your lungs burn, your entire side is numb from exertion, but you give more than your body is made for, and you succeed—kind of. 

Chan back is against the railing of the deck before he realises it, and perhaps it was momentum, or sheer exhaustion, because one minute you’ve got eyes on Chan’s hands and his blade, and the next he’s gone. There’s a loud splash, and you suddenly realise what you’ve done. 

You just pushed Chan overboard. 

You scream before you can help it, dropping your knife with a loud, resonating clang. Pushing against the rails, you peer down to find a giant ripple on the surface of the ocean, whipping your head around to the stairs leading below deck to find Mingyu and Hoshi bounding upstairs. 

“What? Where’s Chan, he was supposed to be with you,” Hoshi asks, whipping his head around the deck. 

Your wide eyed, horrified response from near the edge tells them all they need to know. 

By the time Chan’s pulled himself on board, soaked and dripping like a wet poodle, you’ve sat yourself the furthest away from the railing to prevent any more trouble. He drops onto the floor, creating a human sized puddle. 

With the way the two men had merely sighed and threw the ladder over the exterior of the ship, you concluded that this must happen enough for them to be beyond the point of concern. It only adds to it when you see Mingyu nudge Chan’s unmoving but heaving body with the toe of his boot, giggling at his expense. 

You make your way over, crouching beside Chan sheepishly. 

“Sorry about that, got carried away.”

He’s sitting up now, quickly pulling himself back to his feet and you spring back from your crouched position. 

“It’s fine, happens.” He has a small smile on his face as he says it and you conclude that he may find the situation laughable as well. 

“Now, Chan,” Hoshi says, not letting Chan move into the deck any further from the railing. “What’s the first thing you learn about brawling on a ship?” 

Chan looks slightly embarrassed as he answers, “Be aware of your surrounding—ARGH.”

Hoshi pushed him into the water. 

You jump as you run back to the rails, watching as Chan’s head re-emerges at the surface after his second dip in the ocean. 

Just as you’re about to say something to Hoshi, he’s stuck his head over the railings as well, yelling at Chan in some singsong voice. 

“One time was a mistake, twice is a problem!”

To your left, only adding to your horror, is Mingyu doubled over in his fit of laughter, heaving as he giggled uncontrollably. He’s also holding onto the railings for dear life, but clearly, for reasons completely different from yours. 

The situation resolves itself as both you and Chan learn a few lessons of practicality. Deciding you’ve done enough damage to your body, you announce that you’d be retiring for the day. 

“Thank goodness, I was about to confiscate that stupid knife, I’ve been hearing clanging in my sleep,” Mingyu mumbles as he pulls the rope ladder back up to the deck. 

In any case, you have the urge to take a dip in the ocean yourself, feeling increasingly uncomfortable in your drying sweat. 

Grabbing a clean washcloth, you fill a bucket of freshwater from one of the barrels on deck and lug it into your quarters. The soaked washcloth does wonders for your overheated body, feeling enormously better after a change of clothes. 

Your scalp, however, remains itchy and burning, so you decide to go back up to the main deck, hoping to manoeuvre a hair wash situation without needing to mop the floors of your quarters. 

Refilling the bucket of freshwater, you set it down before scanning the empty deck for another spare bucket. You try not to scoff at the unwavering determination of the pirate crew to keep the deck unoccupied for such long increments, that last altercation teaching them absolutely nothing. You wonder how they’ve managed to survive for so long like this. 

Shaking the thought, you use the spare bucket as a way to deposit your waste water as you pour cups of clean water over your aching scalp. The feeling does wonders for you, letting the water wash away weeks worth of grime, sweat and stress. 

You’re almost back home in your quarters when the whiff of your hair salts hits your nose, the ones you’d packed for yourself, closing your eyes for a moment as you rub them into your scalp. You don't expect the clench that seizes your chest, but you falter when it happens anyway.

It’s nostalgic, and you hate it. 

It smells like the palace, like the incense your ladies in waiting always burned, the stench of citrus having made its way into your bones from the years of exposure to the scent. It’s too much as you blink back tears, owing them to the suds that have made their way into your eyes. 

The sting helps bring you back, opening your eyes to an orange glow and the waft of seasalt  hitting your nose. You’re more aggressive when you dunk your cup into the bucket this time, too aggressive as you feel the half full bucket tip over and spill water all over the deck as you cause yet another accident. 

Cursing loudly, you try to blink away the suds from your eyes, soap still in your hair as you try to figure out how to get another bucket of water without ruining your fresh change of clothes, mentally kicking yourself at not thinking this through.

“You realise we have to make do with that freshwater till we make it to Ash?” 

Wet hair still in your hands, you attempt to peer up at the voice, only to find Hoshi standing above you, arms crossed over his chest with a funny expression on his face. Huffing, you grumble out in response, “Can you just get me a fresh bucket?”

“Hm, I don’t know, can I?” He removes his gaze and begins to pretend looking over at the horizon and the setting sun. 

Chiding yourself for even bothering to ask, you reach for the tipped bucket yourself, deciding you’d figure it out yourself if this dumb pirate was choosing to be of no help. But before you could latch your fingers on the handle, the bucket’s snatched away. 

At first you think he’s being funny, taking the bucket away to watch you struggle even further. “You—”

Except you watch him as he dunks the bucket back into the barrel of freshwater, lugging it back to where you could reach. “Try not to paint the deck with it this time, I’ve already mopped twice.”

The thank you freezes on your tongue, and for some reason you can’t say it to him. So you make a scene of splashing into the bucket with vigour, sending spills over the rim and taking mild satisfaction in hearing him sigh at the sight of more mopping. 

He’s already gotten hold of the worn mop by the time you’re done as you remerge with clean hair, wringing your own mop of hair to deposit the excess water. Straightening out your back, you take hold of the spare cloth you brought along with you, patting your hair with it. 

The sun remains in its mission to cast its golden glow, but only illuminates Hoshi’s grumbling form as he mops up all the water you’ve spilled. 

“You know, I should really be making you—” He halts as he makes eye contact with you, your hands still occupied with patting your hair dry, flicking the wet strands. You have a rebuttal already prepared, waiting for him to finish his jab. 

“Make me what? you grind. 

You can’t make out the look on his face, somewhere between constipated and on the edge of a yelp, he keeps staring at you. You note a slight trickle of water making its way down your neck and chest, bleeding into your shirt as yet another water stain. 

“Nothing,” he says, to your surprise. 

And with that uneventful climax, you trudge back down to your quarters, a strange brewing in your chest.

[AN]: congrats you made it to the end of part 1!!!!! reblog ur thots and opinions or send me an ask, id love to hear the turmoil in ur minds lol

[lilacgaby]

˗ˏˋdie for you.ᡣ𐭩

after an attempt on your life, the royal family turns to promising young blood, hoping to find someone to protect you. katsuki was chosen and ended up dedicating himself to you in a way even he never predicted.

✩pair. knight!katsuki x princess!reader tags. fem!reader, royalty, no quirk au, swords, violence, pet names, reader is referred to as she/her, fighting, fluff, happy ending, wc. 7k

✩note. this is like really old, i decided to let it graduate from draft jail while i work on the otherr

A sword at your throat. the familiar weight of your crown on your head.

that's all that you processed before it faded to black.

who knew a walk in the garden would be so dangerous? the attempts on your life were growing more frequent by the day, the recent tensions between your kingdom and the villages surrounding it just fueling the violence.

of course, this, much like the other three attempts in the past week hadn't worked. the witches and wizards around you successfully poisoning the man holding you and killing him instantly.

it barely shook you anymore, the feeling of waking up in your bed safe and sound after being threatened. perhaps you were getting too used to the sensation of being in danger.

but this didn't help you in the case of your mother, who worried, and rightfully so. they had called you into the grand courts the next morning, giving you a day of reprieve before letting you in on the plans.

“[name].” your father, the king spoke. his eyes looking sorrowfully down at you, as if he pitied you. “we will be searching for new crowns guard members and keeping you under full time surveillance from now on. these attempts are

becoming more and more common, and you have no means of defending yourself.”

you sighed, crossing your arms. “i don't have any say in this? being under constant watch is disgraceful.”

“my dear, it is only what's necessary! i argued over this in your stead for days, but with these recent attempts.. it is what needs to be done.” your mother pleaded with you.

a moment of silence passed over, thoughts flowing like a waterfall through your mind. knowing she had the final word, you bowed in mock agreement. “i give you my full permission to do whatever needs to be done.”

“very well then, fetch me the fresh blood.” the king barked. “only the best, i want a good bunch weeded out before the trials.”

at this, the consultants bowed and rushed out to the villages. the trip to the village was almost an hour away, and people working for the royals were not very favored at this moment because of the strained relationship. the horses led them to the villages, the sound of their stomps the first evidence of the new arrival's presence in the town.

katsuki, who had been sharpening his swords outside, was the first of the young men in the village to see the royal carriages arrive. with a glare, he waltzed over to the central square, where many others had already gathered.

“i apologize for the intrusion!” a man, wearing silks worth more than a house stood, speaking quite loudly. “we have job opportunities for any young soldiers in training! if you pass the king’s trial, your family will be greatly compensated. any willing to enter, please,” he stepped over to gesture to the carriage with empty spots. “gather your belongings and settle into the carriage before sundown. thank you!”

katsuki scoffed, looking over at the other imbeciles who thought this would be their big break. did he care for royals at all? no. but this would be a way to climb to the top. a way to become a big name. so, he'd go.

he walked right back to his mother's store, a tailoring business, and starting packing. “i'm leaving.” he announced to her and his father, a satchel packed and swung around his arm as he looked nonchalantly.

his mother only waved a hand. “go do whatever you'd like, but don't die.”

his father, with a tearful expression, wished him good luck with a smile. “you'll do amazing son.. though i don't know where exactly you're going. you've always been destined for greatness.”

“of course i am. don't fail the business in my absence.” he turned and walked out of the only home he'd ever known, to go and see what these royals were all about.

he was sat next to a lot of the village boys he'd grown up with, a bunch of them must have lost hope, because the numbers dwindled down severely. with a smack of a whip, the horses began to move, guiding the now twelve men to the kingdom.

the estate was even more huge up close, the golden sunlight from the fleeing sun making the castle seem all the more impressive. even katsuki couldn't help but voice his opinion, muttering under his breath, “wow.”

they were dropped off in front of the main door of the castle, leading to the main chamber. the twelve nervously walked in, greeted by the sight of the king’s piercing eyes, and the queen's grateful smile.

“is this all who came then?” the king said, his voice bellowing throughout the castle. at a man’s nod, he began to address the villagers.

“you all, i offer my thanks for your participation. recently, multiple uprisings have been taking place in different villages. ones that have threatened my daughter’s life. we've done our best to keep this out of the news, so most of you have not heard of this before, correct?”

the boys all nodded, surprised at the revelation that the princess might have been killed.

“the reason why i sent out for you, is because i want not only a personal guard for my daughter, but a crowns guard protecting the perimeters of the castle. all of you, for even arriving here, will be getting paid handsomely.

but, to ensure only the best is personally assigned for my daughter, you will all be dueling right now.”

surprised gasps echo and bounce off the walls, none of them were prepared, but katsuki was determined to win even in this odd situation.

“you may be forced to fight in the middle of the night or the middle of a garden, being ready at all times is key for a successful knight. if you fall to the floor you lose, this is an all out battle, so do what you must to win.”

the queen personally handed out training swords made of wood to each of them, making them all bow in thanks. even katsuki felt honored in a way, the queen’s presence the very essence of royal.

they all assumed fighting stances. since there were no rules other than to stay up, it meant they'd need to be aware of all possible threats from any direction.

“begin.”

katsuki went in with guns blazing, knocking a man to the floor instantly. others charged at him at the same time, so with a timed dodge he made them collide, then eliminated them simultaneously.

it was obvious that the king had been taken by katsuki. his eyes locked onto him, small commentary between the queen and him as they examined the way he fought, his fighting style brute yet calculated.

there was now only three left, the weaker of the men being taken out the fight in a flash. katsuki let them take the first move, them naturally charging at eachother because of their proximity.

with a smart move, katsuki knocked them over as they were on the offense, kicking the other’s lower body to knock them over.

applause rang out through the court, servants and consults clapping for him. even the king and queen gave him their respects. katsuki could only smirk, he really was destined for greatness.

“it's decided then, you my lad, will be assigned to my daughter’s detail tomorrow morning. tell me your name.”

he pointed his sword at the king, making the servants appear applauded at his audacity. “katsuki bakugo. don't you forget it.”

the king could only let out a hearty laugh. “i don't think i could bakugo. as for the rest of you, you all fought valiantly. you will all be assigned your positions tomorrow by the head of the knights. bakugo, follow that young lady over there. you will sleep in only our best chambers.”

he smirked victoriously as he followed the older servant, his satchel in her grasp. with a polite smile, she walked with him down the hallways. he decided to question her about this princess, wondering if she'd be stuck up. “hey, lady.” he asked, making the girl jump.

“ah.. yes?”

“this princess of yours, how's she act? stuck-up?” he questioned, noting the way the servant’s eyes seem to get offended for her. “no, no! i've worked for many princesses you see, and she's been the most gracious one i've had the pleasure of serving.” he nodded to signal he was listening, as she continued.

“she has her moments of frustration, but never takes it out on her staff. she's a very kind princess, the future of this kingdom is safe in her arms. that's what i believe young man.” the lady finished, stilling in front of a large door. “this is where you'll be staying, the princess herself stays in the room across the hallway. from when she wakes up you will need to be there, so get some sleep.”

she opened the door, revealing a huge bedroom the size of his shop. the bed weaved of silk and linen, pillows feathery soft, a gorgeous window offering a view of the moon. there was even an area dedicated to just weaponry, not to mention his own private bathroom. he felt speechless as he was left alone there, the clothes he wore feeling unfit for this new environment.

he fell asleep pondering this new life of his. wondering if this was going to be worth the headache of being at some princesses hand and feet.

he was woken up by the same old lady, embarrassed of how deep of a slumber he'd been in. those sheets were heavenly, he'd have to get some for his parents back home.

he was given royal clothing, the cloth feeling light and refreshing on his skin. a purple band around his arm signifying his connection to you. as he put his sword on his back, he walked over to the room across his. he knocked on the door and waited.

the sight that greeted him made him think he had died and went to heaven. the old lady had never mentioned just how gorgeous you were, the silk night robe clinging to your figure in all the right ways, your face still dreamy from being half-asleep, your hair slightly messy from how you slept on it.

“hello?” you said, your hands holding the door open while eyeing the handsome knight outside your room. he was very clearly eyeing you, you'd be flattered if you weren't so sleepy. “are you my new knight?”

those words finally snapped him back into reality. “um.. yes. yes i am. im bakugo.” he replied, standing tall and at attention now. “oh, okay. come in bakugo. i'm [name].” you stuck your hand out for him to shake, but he had to bite back the urge to kiss it.

he didn't know why he was panicking so bad, this had never happened before. he had known several gorgeous women back in town, ones that had even come on to him, but you were on a different league to them.

he had always laughed and joked about those knights who'd willingly lay their lives down for a princess, but he'd never understood them more then when he was just in your presence.

he shook your hand tightly, before letting go and just standing awkwardly. “i don't really.. know what to do.” he said honestly. “you don't have to watch me all day, just don't leave me alone. i think.” you said before going back to lay on your bed. “i don't have any meetings or stuff today so, i can give you a tour around here if you want? i don't feel like just doing nothing all day.”

“anything you want princess.” the words had slipped out his mouth before he could process it. he'd smack his hand over his mouth if he could, but he didn't want to embarrass himself further. you didn't seem to notice his turmoil though, stretching and walking over to your bathroom. “okay, that settles it then. you can lay on my bed while you wait for me bakugo.”

you changed into a casual everyday dress, choosing the one with the easiest corset to tie yourself. basic makeup and hairstyle aside, you walked out ready to take him around.

after styling your hair, you grabbed his hand off where he was sat on the bed. “let's go!”

you were going to be the death of him.

your words were barely processed as he was enthralled by the sight of you. your mouth was moving yet he couldn't hear anything more than the sound of his beating heart. your skin was glowing, lips soft and plump, eyes shining and full of intrigue.

his hands grew sweaty, he hoped you didn't notice as you pulled him along with you for the fifteenth time today. you'd finally finished he though, until you revealed you'd only gotten through one floor. you laughed at his distressed expression, and brought him out to the garden instead.

“this is my favorite spot.” you admitted, taking him to farthest side of the garden where you could get a view of the village. his village. “i wish i could visit, it seems so.. inviting, you know?”

“that's where i live.” he pointed to the house on the edge of the village, although it was small from his perspective, he could recognize the cloths laying outside from miles away. “my family owns that shop, i practiced outside there everyday.”

your eyes grew wide, smiling at the news. “really? that was you? i always saw someone running around there.”

he flushed, he'd never realized he'd had an audience. especially not a royal one. “youre not lying right?”

“of course not. people watching is all i really do out here, besides almost get killed you know?”

“huh.. those are two very interesting hobbies.” you smacked his arm playfully. he decided to keep telling you about the village. pointing out the villages, explaining what happens inside, telling you about his daily life back there.

he felt your eyes on him the entire time, though thankfully he was starting to get more used to your presence.

they had brought dinner out for the two of you, the spread being larger than katsuki ever had in his dreams. the amount of meats, salads, cheeses, and wines on the table would've lasted his family for months he thinks.

“choose whatever you'd like bakugo.” you invited. he nodded and started to eat, you did too. most of the items went uneaten though, you two getting full before even eating half of it.

“it's okay, they'll save this so don't feel bad.” you assured, taking his hand a final time. “i'm kind of sleepy though so, i'm gonna head to bed.” he followed you back to your room, feeling like a boyfriend leaving his girlfriend at her home when you left him with a, “goodnight bakugo.”

the next day was one where he actually had to work. sitting around your bed as the servants surrounded you, tightening the corset around you, doing your hair, and finishing off with your makeup. he followed you and your entourage as they led you to the meeting room.

he stood by your chair as various other royals came up to you and your family. he was surprised at the utter lack of awareness they seemed to have, asking for large sums of money and help with no embarrassment.

'aren't rich people supposed to be fancy? why do they ask for things more than the poor?’ he pondered, looking down at you and your bored expression.

for some reason, the topic of your hand in marriage was a recurring topic whenever the foreign royals didn't seem to get far. they'd talk about you like some object, a prize to be won.

all you'd do was yawn in boredom your father denying every request that day. no wonder everyone wanted to murder you.

a knife was flung at you faster than anyone could process, the only sound was the unsheathing of katsuki's sword in response. he was now in front of you, the knife in his hand as the guards swarmed the royal who had attacked you.

the king and queen looked at him in respect, as you did in awe.

that happened a lot more over the months, you and him grew closer and closer, but any public meeting where your attendance was needed would be a hotspot for potential attempts.

you had started to grow enamored with him too, his name slowly changing to a more familiar “katsuki.” his presence being by your side even when it wasn't required, you would test the bounds of his physical affection more. the sight of you two hugging as you read was not a strange one anymore, in fact it was preferred for the both of you.

he used to only had seen you as a stepping stone for his success, a rock in the bridge for his assent to victory. but as he held you in his arms, hearts in his pupils as he doted over you silently, he knew he was too far gone.

late night talks turned into affection shared between you. forbidden kisses and pleasures untold as you held eachother through the night.

his room began to dust, his bed going unused as he'd be with you eternally. it became an armory more than anything, as whenever he'd finish up any business he'd find himself running back to your side. he wished to live eternally there.

he was in his room once, disrobing after spending another day with you. he was lost in thought, before he heard you scream. he ran out, sword unsheathed, eyes rabid and wide as he saw the tip of a sword pressed against your neck, blood dripping down as the offender held you as a shield.

“you're a villager too aren't you? don't you realize with the death of the princess the kingdom will surely fall?” the man spoke, deepening the sword into your throat as katsuki gripped the hilt of his so hard he thought it'd snap. “i am a villager. im a villager at heart and in soul. but killing someone without any affinity other than blood is purely idiotic.”

the man scoffed, throwing you to the floor and making you groan. his boot pressed onto your back as his sword hung over your vital organs. “i see. you choose to be a dog.

even so, if you do behead me here it will achieve nothing. we want change, change that cannot be achieved without th–”

“shut up.” katsuki swung his sword through the heart of the man. “don't look up [name].” he directed, before throwing the man out of your window where he had broken in from. he watched as he fell to the ground, the blood of his body painting the pristine white roses red. he closed the window, closing the blinds just for precaution. you were looking at him, eyes wide and white with fear. your hands shaking

he looked at you, an expression in your eyes you couldn't place. the hilt of his now bloodied sword was still tight in his hands, until he let it drop to the floor.

he held his arms out, letting you crash into him and confide in his protection.

you sobbed in his arms, this attempt was different, it was calculated. you were all alone, and scared. he stitched your neck up, the blood spilling all over your dress as you whimpered in pain. you didn't want to be left alone now, not ever again. katsuki didn't leave your side though, he slept with you through the night. being there when you woke up.

he held you through the morning, no words leaving his lips. your eyes were swollen from crying, you face buried deep in his chest. he had a thoughtful expression on his face as he caressed you, suddenly pulling you out the bed with a determined look on his face. “trust me.” was all he uttered before leaving the room.

he dragged you down to speak with your father in the morning, he decided he was going to voice his opinions whether you liked it or not. “katsuki no! my father hates being questioned, please listen!”

as you begged him not to, he pulled you along like a ragdoll. “we have to do this princess, it's for your sake and mine.”

that silenced you for the rest of the walk, he didn't have to pull you as harshly now, walking beside you with your hand tightly gripped in his still.

you finally made it to the king's quarters, where he looked surprised at the sudden intrusion. “bakugo, [name], what are you two doing here?”

“why not just change the kingdom and appease the people instead of letting your daughter get hurt over and over? her neck had to be stitched together yesterday, and a man's corpse is rotting outside her bushes.” katsuki ranted, finally letting his inner turmoil's out.

“it's not your job to question me. silence now.”

“i don't think i will be silent, king. you'd rather let your daughter potentially die than give a bit of money to the poor? you hear out so many royals, so many failures of your rich society, yet you can't give an audience to the people who've built your wealth?”

silence loomed over the room, you'd never seen your father so angry. he bitterly laughed, clapping his hands. “so passionate, i knew you village peasants were interesting.”

“father, don't speak of them li–”

“silence. both of you.. since you believe that my kingdom isn't up to your standards.. do you realize that you are committing treason?”

your eyes and katsuki's shot up, you stood in front of him and started to plead. “father no! he was trying to protect me!”

“i know what is best for this situation. [name], leave the room. now.” the king ordered. you looked to katsuki for a brief moment, begging him silently to remain cordial, before waiting outside the door.

“come here boy.” he ordered to katsuki, making him walk closer hesitantly. the king started to speak with a smirk on his face.

“i will not be changing the way my kingdom was built solely because a couple peasants are starving to death.”

katsuki’s eyes widened, he continued. “my kingdom was built on this bloodshed, this suffering. a paradise where all are equal is just a fantasy, besides,

i can always have more children if she dies, i'd just prefer for my wife to not be upset at her death.”

katsuki felt nauseous as the king grew a sick smile on his face. “i like you. i see myself in you. i will give you two options lad. one: leave and do not utter a word to her, go far away and speak nothing of this. or two: i can strike you down right now and act as if you threatened me first.

how about it, peasant?”

katsuki packed up his things silently. ignoring your questions, the heaving of your chest as you begged him to stay. the tears staining your dress, the fear he knew would strike you at every moment.

you had turned him around, forcing him to look at you. to look at those eyes filled with tears just for him, the stitched up scar on your neck, the feeling of your hands pulling his. “katsuki.. why– why are you doing this? did he say something to you?” you hiccuped. “just answer me! please!”

the only safe response he could give you? none at all. he ripped his hands out of yours, breaking both your heart and his as he did so.

he walked away from you, not looking back as he entered the carriage that'd take him to a village, from where he'd have to walk a bit further.

he tried not to think of you, but how could he not when he saw you in everything? in the golden sun that served to mock him, in the grass that flowed freely in the winds, in the flowers that sprung from the ground.

he could never leave you behind. not your memory.. and not you yourself. as he sat in a tavern, drinking his sorrows away with the purple band clutched in his hand, he overheard a group of men speaking.

“so we do it next week, we have to kill the king.” they whispered, cloaks hung over their heads as they pointed out locations on a map. he was walking over before he even realized it, the group staring at him as he examined the map. he thinks it was just his liquid courage, or maybe it was just the desperation to go see you again.

“this is all wrong. the castle isn't laid out like this.” he muttered, grabbing a marker and starting to correct it. “hey– what are you doing man?” a red-haired man spoke.

“i'm fixing your map. you wanna kill the king right? i do too.”

“oh, awesome man!” he cheered. “sit next to us random guy.” he patted the seat next to him as katsuki sat down, finishing up the changes on the map.

“how do you know all this stuff?” a red and white haired man spoke, eyeing him curiously. “i was a knight until yesterday.”

this made them all gasp. “well.. guess that means you'd know it the best then, huh?” a green haired one spoke, “we really want to do this right so, help us with our strateg–”

“you can't kill the princess. that's my condition.” the group of five collectively eyed each other in confusion. “uh.. that's fine i guess. weren't really planning on it.” a yellow haired guy replied, “but we just want the king down. if you wanna keep her safe that'll be your job then random guy.”

“bakugo.”

this prompted them to go around the table introducing themselves. kaminari, kirishima, todoroki, midoriya, and shinsou. they had a mix of magic and manpower. but the only way they'd pull this off would be with immense planning. well, them anyways. he only had one goal: to save you.

the plan was for him to go to your quarters and escape with you while they caught the king by surprise. they'd need to cast spells and put the guards to sleep, the only blood they wanted to shed would be the king himself’s.

katsuki sighed. they had a week to prepare, but he didn't know what he'd do for that week away from you. he fell asleep to the thought of you, training vigorously for the chance to apologize. to take you with him, to build a life with you if you'd grace him with it.

to take you to meet his parents, his village. to show you how life entails, what it could be for the two of you:

during the day he'd train, detailing the schedule of not only the king but the servants around, the guard’s hours in full. he'd slash trees and bang rocks in anger and frustration over the cards you two had been dealt.

at night he'd ponder what to say to you. how to approach you, how to confess what had happened. how to convince you to leave with him, leave your life of luxury for one of uncertainty. a lifetime of uncertainty just to live with him.

the more he pondered the more he'd groan in frustration, which would make kirishima smack him on the head with a pillow. “go to sleep.”

he'd grunt and fall asleep to the moon, the same one you'd be looking at too.

you hadn't been faring well since he left. your days consisting of crying and screaming. you didn't leave your room, you didn't attend meetings or your classes. you didn't go to your spot in the gardens, the sight of the village mocking you, knowing he was so close yet so far.

he had rejected you. he probably hated you, the words from the man who wanted to kill you had stuck in his mind and now he was disgusted by royalty such as yourself.

your handmaids approached you with the caution you'd give to a baby, talking to you as if you were on the verge of a breakdown every second, which you were.

you hated that you'd let him into your life so easily, how much he held over your heart. you hated your feelings for him and how safe he made you feel.

what you hated the most was that you didn't hate him at all, you realized as you stared at the haunting moon, not knowing he was looking at it while thinking of you too.

days passed and it was time. they had spent the previous day traveling, bribing some horse traders to let them in through the gate. they all wore cloaks and had magic that would allow them to communicate throughout the kingdom together.

they all split up, katsuki by himself as he fled to your section of the kingdom. they all fled to surround the king.

not like he cared for that old man. all he wanted was to see you.

he noted how they hadn't bothered to clean the blood spilled on the rose beds under your window, the window that he started to climb. he hung on the windowsill as he peeked in to see you, with bloodshot eyes holding yourself. you looked as if you hadn't slept right in days, a look of paranoia over you.

he knocked on the window making you jump. at the sight of.. him with a cloak on? you scurried over, opening the window as he hopped in. “[name], i uh.. i came back for you.”

“why did you leave me in the first place katsuki?” you looked despaired, your hands clenched into fists as you stared at him.

“i.. i don't have much time. and i didn't have much time then. but i need you to come with me [name].”

“what?”

“we need to leave this place. you can't be here for a couple days and i can protect you. please [name].” he bowed down to you, pleading for you to just trust him though he didn't deserve it. the communication magic was setting off rapidly, they had made contact with the king already.

“get up katsuki, just– i'll go okay?” you said, helping him up. “but you're gonna explain everything.”

“right.” he helped you pack a bag full of essentials for you, helped you change into a dress that allowed for more mobility. he helped you down the window, holding you tight as you fled down the castle walls. he even let you keep your crowns and jewelry, your rings and things you'd loved from your birthdays.

you'd boarded the stowaway carriage, waiting for his ‘partners’ to get back. he neglected to tell you they were here to murder your father, the king, but from the spell tugging in his head he knew.

it was a success.

you had fallen asleep on his shoulder, cuddled up to him, snoring slightly. he held your hand as he held you close, you were so knocked out even the yells of happiness from the rebel group didn't wake you. they escaped into the night, kaminari and kirishima teasing katsuki about his relationship with you.

“no wonder you wanted to save her so bad, you're in love with the princess.”

“we can officiate your wedding man! as long as you don't want actual papers–”

“shut up.”

the rest of the ride was filled with that mockery, the rebels filled with excitement of what would become of the kingdom. the king was dead, the queen and princess were missing. well, the princess was safe and sound by katsuki’s side in actuality, but it's not like the townsmen knew that.

you woke up to the feeling of being carried, it was already dawn, the sun had begun to awake. katsuki was carrying you to a house of some sort. your arms wrapped around his neck, your eyes half lidded from sleep. “morning 'suki.” slipped from your lips as you yawned.

he looked down at you with a small smile. “good morning [name], we have uh-.. things to talk about. a lot of things.” he was nervous, you could tell from his tone. he set you down on a bed before sitting beside you, holding your hand.

“so, would you like the good news or the bad news first?” he asked you, avoiding eye contact. “bad news? what bad news?” you questioned, examining both him and yourself for injury. “well, your father is dead and your family has been dethroned.” he said quickly, not allowing for pause.

your eyes shot up in surprise, and just as quickly.. you.. yawned?

you weren't having much as a reaction as he planned for, he planned to have to beg you to stay, console you as you screamed out in terror, but you looked almost unimpressed. “i mean.. he had it coming. he treated everyone horribly, i hope mother is alright though.” you muttered. “anyways, the good news?”

he was flabbergasted to say the least, but he continued. “uh.. yeah. since he died the villagers usurped the throne, destroying the royal structure of the land.”

“can i keep my crown?"

“sure you can.”

“then it's okay with me.”

“oh..”

“is something wrong..?”

“nope, uh. thats all.”

“so, can we explore the village today?”

“yes, yes we can.”

he took you everywhere he imagined in his dreams. you got along with his mother, surprisingly. fitting in like a missing puzzle piece into his life.

wealth had spread throughout the lands, everyone prospering as the people had elected for a people run government.

you'd adjusted surprisingly well. your huge gowns had become modest smaller ones, your jewelry now gone and replaced with leather bands. you'd had to do chores now, jokingly complaining but honestly learning to like the mundane aspects of life.

with your knight at your side, now devoted to you in not only soul but heart, you knew everything would go perfectly.

tags: @k0z3me @darhinadadragon @maddietries @hiimsaraaandyou @amayaaaxx

@i-the-fluffo @uy242c @irenne-stans

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[mirohlayo]

YOU STOLE IT

( what happens when lando reunites with the girl who stole his first kiss ? )

warning : a bit of jealousy, fluff, lot of fluff

note : i love this okay. i won't write a part 2 so no requests please !!

word count : 4.9k

Lando hasn't always been very lucky in love. While he separated from a failed romantic relationship, he now finds himself alone, surrounded by his friends who are experiencing their perfect love, alongside their soulmates.

This doesn't bother him that much, since he himself admitted preferring to concentrate on his sporting career and thus become one of the best F1 drivers. No girlfriend yet.

But when he has to endure all day long the sweet words that other drivers address to their lovers, when he himself can feel love in the air, it becomes difficult not to think about starting a new chapter, this time here happy and healthy. A chapter that will fill him with happiness, as he has never been before.

Is this decision of not having enough time to find a girlfriend in order to concentrate on sport actually an excuse to hide the pain and despair that is gradually beginning to nestle in his heart?

He tries as best he can to reassure himself, to convince himself that he doesn't need this feeling of being completely in love and devoted to a girl. But when he continues to be the third wheel among the couples his friends form, he comes to desire a relationship more than anything else.

And every time, he can't help but think of this girl. This pretty girl he met during his summer vacation when he was 16. She was divinely beautiful, her shy but bubbly personality made Lando's heart capsize in a unique way, his whole being was alarmed just by hearing her name.

They both had a wonderful vacation, just the two of them together. During these two summer months, they did not let go of each other, spending every day alongside each other. They had become so close and complicit that they proclaimed themselves best friends from their first meeting during a kart race where Lando was racing for his life.

And since that day, they both developed deep feelings for each other. At first it was innocent. And it still is, in fact. They just thought it was a deep friendly connection, that they were just friendly soulmates. That those little stolen smiles and tactile touches were just childish, and just affectionate.

But it turned out that his feelings were ultimately more than that. More than just a friendly relationship. Lando found himself falling in love with you so hard, so passionately that he regretted not asking for your number when you two suddenly said goodbye.

You were his first love. And you still are. He thought that with time, you would eventually slip out of his head, that he would eventually forget you and move on, that it was just a big embarrassing crush from his youth but that he wouldn't think about it anymore growing up.

But that is absolutely not the case. He hasn't stopped thinking about you for 8 years. Every day, even before going to sleep, the only person he thinks about is you, that little girl he was madly in love with before.

He knows it, he maybe denies it a little, but deep down he realizes that he still has feelings for you. Perhaps less intense, less ardent, but there is no doubt that his romantic feelings will double in strength if he meets you again one day.

Of course, the old relationships, flirts, that he had before were sincere and true. He liked these few girls, that he was even happy in his last relationship. But for all that, it was by stopping this relationship and these flirts that he realized that everything brought him back to you. No matter what girl he meets, the only one who will forever remain deeply anchored in his heart is you.

He knows now that you two were more than friendly soulmates. Well, at least from his point of view. He was absolutely unsure about your feelings, which is why during these summer vacations, he preferred not to tell you anything for fear of destroying such a pure and important friendship in his eyes.

But again, he finds himself thinking about you, about how everything would be different with you. It was by going through all these different relationships with girls that he understood that he had never felt anything as powerful as with you. All these girls don't give him even a quarter of what he felt for you back then. So, how will this feeling change when he has the opportunity to meet you again?

The warm air of Saudi Arabia blows gently through the driver's curly hair. Free practice will begin in a few hours now, so Lando is using this time cooped up in the garage, surrounded by his teammate and his racing team, to discuss about the car.

“Hello Oscar!!” Lando's teammate is welcomed by his girlfriend, Lily, who smiles lovingly at him. The interview with the team is over, and she took the opportunity to spend some time with her boyfriend Oscar. The second driver comes to wrap his arms around his lover, before pressing a kiss to her forehead. Lando scoffs and rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. “Can you do this in private please? In addition to be the third wheel, I have nausea coming on.”

Oscar mocks his teammate, still holding Lily tightly in his arms. “Mate, it’s not my fault you’re a failure in love.” The Brit stops himself from hitting him, before putting on his McLaren cap. “Need I remind you that I’ve been in a relationship before?” He says to him with a completely proud look. “Couple who ended up in a failure, by the way.” He remarks, pointing at him.

“I really loved her…” The curly pauses. “It’s just that there is someone who- no, nothing, forget what I've said” He grumbles and withdraws into himself. Oscar frowns, Lily now concerned about the situation. “What?” She questions him gently.

Lando refuses to face this situation and simply shrugs his shoulders and ends up running away to join Zack further away. He can't say more, he can't talk about this girl who obsesses him. The two lovers look at each other confused by the British's behavior.

Zack smiled as he saw Lando walking towards him. “Are you already tired of feeling love in the air?” He says in order to tease him, which works. “Stop with that, I don’t care if I’m in a relationship or not.” What a lie. Zack knows his driver is lying, but he doesn't bother him more than that, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

“So, how are things going at Ferrari?” Lando asks to quickly change the subject, not wanting to face another charade about his catastrophic dating situation. The two men then turn towards the Ferrari garage, where they can see the two drivers and the mechanics. "They look like they have a really good car, that's all I can tell you. But that doesn't mean-"

But it's too late, the British Mclaren driver no longer listens to his boss. As the Ferrari mechanics and strategists set to work, he saw among this small crowd Charles alongside a girl. At first glance, he thought it was his girlfriend. But upon closer observation, the woman, who is facing away, has a little shorter hair and is smaller in stature. And her hair color reminds him of her.

The girl he's been hopelessly in love with for 8 years now. But it can't be real, right? Why would you be here at the free practice sessions, and even more so accompanied by Charles Leclerc? His eyes must surely be hallucinating. But that silhouette from behind reminds him so much of you. But he tries to reassure himself. Or rather convince himself that there are so many brown girls in the paddock that he has confused you with someone else.

“Are you still listening to me or not?” Zack's serious voice rang in his ears. "Uh, yeah, sorry..." "You must need some time alone, I think" A mocking but concerned smile takes its place on Zack's face. “Yes, I think I need a little rest, excuse me” Lando smiles at him with difficulty before his boss goes further away.

The driver takes a deep breath. He can't help but look away at Charles and that girl. The more he looks, the more he feels like he's going back 8 years and seeing the girl he loves in front of him. He needs to know. He needs to be reassured and to be sure if this girl is really you.

And as if fate had heard it, the woman disappears from the garage, and seems to be heading to the paddock. So the British guy doesn't miss this chance and almost runs behind her to follow her. A few people give him confused and questioning looks, but he continues to pursue this dark-haired woman who hypnotizes him.

As he gets closer to you, his heart beats harder and harder. He feels like he's going to burst out of his chest and this feeling of stress eating away at him makes him want to vomit. Because he is realizing that he may have found his first love again. His eternal childhood crush.

That all those nights lost looking for you on social medias, trying to find your account and reconnect with you may not have been in vain. That all those nights lost thinking about you for a long time before falling asleep may not have been wasted in vain. That all these memories of you that he replays in his head finally make sense.

So, he goes for it without a second’s hesitation. "Excuse me ?" He speaks a little hesitantly, afraid of ending up with a woman who doesn't know him. But when the girl turns around, her brown hair flowing in the air, her eyes meeting his, Lando's heart skips several beats.

He finally found you.

The look of shock and surprise on your face mirrors Lando’s perfectly. Neither of you knows how to react, so you stay stuck like this for what seems like an eternity. But it is during this moment that the air suddenly seems changed. As if a connection, which once existed, was finally present again. As if an invisible link had finally reconnected between you, and united you for eternity. This change in atmosphere makes Lando's heart beat a little harder.

It seems unreal. So unreal that he thinks he's dreaming for a moment. For years, he never stopped thinking about you. To wonder what had become of you, what you looked like. And here you are now in front of him, more radiant than ever. This supernatural trance finally breaks when you decide to speak.

"Lando?!...Lando!!" You can't help but smile with all your teeth, a smile so sincere and strong. And oh God he suffered so much for the last eight years without being able to admire your magnificent smile. He adores it so much that he dreams of framing it in his memory forever. He knows how weak he becomes every time he gets the chance to admire your smile.

He can't help the big smile that comes over him as well. He feels so many emotions inside him that he feels like he's going to explode with happiness. "Y/n! Oh it's really you, I can't believe it!!" He can't even hide his joy and excitement, which makes you smile more, although it already seems impossible considering your cheeks already tired from just smiling.

“Me either, I feel like I’m in a dream” You admit, still a little surprised. “I didn’t think you were going to recognize me to be honest” You tell him, trying to contain your bomb of joy. “How could I not recognize you, when you are literally the most precious person to me?”

This simple sentence makes you blush violently, as you try to hide your embarrassment. “Uh- well it’s been 8 years since we last saw each other, so I doubt I’m still your favorite person” You laugh sweetly, and the sweet sound melts his heart. “So don’t doubt anymore, because you really are y/n” He addresses these few words to you while looking into yours.

And that's when he realizes how much you've changed. But changed in an incredibly beautiful way. You have kept this divine beauty which never fails to take his breath away. Your sweet facial features, that beautiful smile that he can't help but be obsessed with, and just simply your face that he could gaze at for hours and hours without ever getting tired of it.

You were already very beautiful when you were younger, when you were teenagers. But now you are infinitely more magnificent and resplendent. You look much more mature, and much more feminine. He has the impression of seeing an angel, a goddess before him. And that too has not changed, you remain for him the most beautiful woman he has ever met in his entire life.

The same goes for you. He's grown up so much, he's no longer the immature but adorable little Lando you loved so much before. Now he's a real man. He is more muscular, more virile but above all he has retained this eternal beauty and attractiveness. His beard makes him look a lot older too.

And then his hair. You teased him back then because he had trouble combing his hair. But these beautiful silky and shiny curls make you want and want to play with them, to caress them until they are messy enough for you to style them again.

“I see that my karting races have brought you to the wonderful world of Formula 1” The driver then says in order to hide the fact that he has been gazing at you for a few minutes now. You chuckle, before nodding. “Yeah, it must be said that a certain Lando Norris passed on his passion for motorsport to me” He lets out a little embarrassed laugh before turning his attention back to you.

"But Lando Norris was replaced by his opponent apparently. Bad luck." Lando's eyes land on the monegasque Ferrari driver who joins the conversation, right next to you. His tone turns colder as he stares at Charles. He can't help but feel a pang - or rather a big pang - of jealousy at the idea that you potentially replaced him with the monegasque driver.

Maybe your heart finally fell for Charles? Maybe in the end you always preferred him. He can't get these assumptions out of his head, because they haunt him now and just thinking about them makes him even more jealous. How come you're as close to Charles as you once were to Lando?

"Wow, what a reunion! Y/n told me how you were best friends before" Charles smiles kindly, and Lando seems surprised by his words. “Did she really tell you?” He asks suddenly. You clear your throat, embarrassed by what you told your friend about your relationship with the Brit.

"Yes, she told me so many things about you. That you were her favorite boy - and still are, that she loved spending time with you so much, that she really found you adorable and cute-” “Hey shut up!!” You beg Charles, placing the palm of your hand over his mouth.

Lando feels himself blush violently upon hearing Charles' words. Is this really true? “Do you think I’m cute ?” He teases you gently, but you feel even more embarrassed that you end up pressing your hands to your cheeks to hide the already terribly apparent red color.

"And that's not all, I still forgot lots and lots of things... anyway, I'll leave you, work awaits me again" Charles ends up patting the Mclaren driver on the shoulder, before to give you a smile and walk away.

A silence falls for a moment. The atmosphere has suddenly changed, it's more tense. But tense because you now know that a more than ambiguous and friendly feeling has settled between you. Tension paralyzes you as you fight the urge to jump into each other's arms.

Lando finally clears his throat before looking into your beautiful eyes. “How did you meet Charles?” “I’m a friend of his girlfriend, and she introduced us.” You respond simply, staring at him intently. Until you notice that his eyes no longer support your gaze but attack your lips.

It makes you think of that moment. And it makes him think of that moment too.

He stared intently at your pink lips. He wonders if he can. If he has the right. If he can taste them again. To move his lips on yours, to see if they are as soft as they seem.

To relive this moment. This moment, which is undoubtedly the most beautiful of his memories, and even more the most beautiful day of his life.

-

England was probably now one of your favorite destinations. Maybe because you found your confidant there, your best friend, this boy as adorable as he was immature who dreamed of being a Formula 1 driver. But all good things come to an end, and you already knew that destiny had to separate your paths. That these two months of vacation spent alongside Lando will only be distant but happy memories of your adolescence, and that you will perhaps end up watching him race on TV, being only a spectator and no longer his childhood best friend.

Lando knew it too. He knew that you had to return to your homeland, because after all England was only the destination your parents had chosen for the summer holidays. But his heart was breaking, suffocating at the idea of letting you go, when he had just accepted the fact that you were for him, potentially the woman of his life. You couldn't suppress the feeling of apprehension and sadness, as each minute that passed reminded you of how much time you would miss, passing by at a crazy speed.

Sitting on large rocks on the beach, you both admired the beautiful sunset that was falling on this last day of vacation. Tomorrow, a new chapter would begin. So you wanted to fully enjoy your last moments with your secret lover, because you might never meet him again. Silence reigned, peacefully, while the sound of the insolent waves lulled your ears with a bitter melody. You hoped you could slow down time, or rather extend it, because he seemed so stingy and selfish about giving you a little more to even exchange your unspoken thoughts.

Suddenly, you felt the boy's gaze on you, a gaze so intense that you had to turn your head away to look at him the same way. A mischievous smile appeared on his thin lips, as he opened his mouth to say a few words to you. “You promised me a gift if I won my kart race. I’m still waiting for it, Y/n.” His eyes filled with mischief and impatience, as you remembered the promise you had made to him. He had won his karting race earlier in the day, and you had promised him a gift if he managed to win it. However, you didn't think it would be so easy, since you had secretly chosen a rather... surprising gift.

A kiss. Not on his cheek, his forehead, or even his temple. No, it was more than just a childish, awkward kiss. A real, quick kiss on his lips. You thought about it because, although you sincerely believed in Lando's phenomenal abilities, you didn't think he would end up on the top step of the podium so easily and quickly. And now you're in trouble. Lando continues to stare at you mischievously, still impatient to discover your precious gift. Your brain was no longer able to function, your heart was speeding up. Did you really have to go for it? Take the plunge and place your lips on his?

Lando's impatience and waiting were more evident, while you were still panicking inside. And then, that's when you understood. That there was only him in your heart, and that there was only one chance. Only one life to live it to the fullest, without regretting anything. That worst case scenario, you'll go home the next day, forgetting this stupid promise and action. That in the end, this vacation, this boy, and this kiss, will remain engraved as the most beautiful adolescent chapter of your life, and that you will remember it with full joy and nostalgia.

Then the next second, Lando was surprised to feel a pair of lips on his. The kiss only lasted a short second, yet long enough for him to feel a bunch of different emotions. His heart felt like it was stopping, just as his brain was trying to properly process what had just happened. A powerful, strange but sweet feeling came over the young British man. He had just received his first kiss, and even more so from the girl he loved desperately. As you pulled back to look into his eyes, his looked back at you, confused. But because he understood.

He understood that this was love. That he was destined to remain faithful to you, for the rest of his life, because that kiss was the promise that his heart would belong to you forever.

-

It's been a little over a week now since you and Lando got together. And these last few days have been filled with nostalgia, reunions and above all strong and intense emotions. After the Jeddah race, Lando asked you to spend time together. Finally, he secretly wanted to insinuate that he wanted to spend every minute of his time by your side. Like before, like eight years ago.

He had finally found his childhood crush, the woman he considered the love of his life, and so he wasn't going to let her escape so easily. Especially since this reunion made him rekindle these deep feelings that he had not lost, but balked at because he had come to the conclusion that he will never find you again. However, talking to you again, spending time with you made him feel the love he had for you, but so much more intense, so much stronger and more powerful.

He's never felt like this before with any other girl, he's never seen himself in this state. Completely and obsessively in love, desperate to receive your attention and stay with you. Finding you was a sentimental blow to him, while he found himself lost forever in your heart. Finding you sealed his heart in your hands for eternity.

“It was a great day.” You hasten to say as a pretty smile takes place on your face. The driver looks at you lovingly, as he nods his head in approval. “Especially when I beat you at karting. It was the best moment of the day” He teases you and you stare at him. "I drove into the barrier because you hit my kart with yours. It doesn't count" You try to defend yourself.

“It doesn’t matter, I still won.” He adds as you sit side by side on the warm sand of the beach. “Still as narcissistic as back then” You roll your eyes but don’t hide that teasing smile on your face. “Still the same Lando Norris that you loved so much” He adds, his eyes scanning the horizon in the distance.

You swallow with difficulty, a lump in your throat. “Loved uh…” You whisper to yourself. Raising your head, you are greeted by the sunset. A pretty sunset, the same one that accompanied you on that last day of vacation eight years ago. You can't help but feel this feeling of nostalgia, of happiness.

It's exactly the same pretty frame, and the same boy by your side. It reminds you so much of that beautiful day long ago. Your heart warms at the thought. You finally found the man you love so much, and you couldn't be happier than right now.

The waves play the same melody, but this time the melody is more beautiful. Brighter and strangely romantic. As you gaze at the clouds in the distance, you feel Lando's intense gaze on you. Exactly the same look he gave you back then. Then, as if you were rehearsing the same scene, like a play that you are performing to perfection, you turn around to lock your gaze with his.

And there, that famous mischievous smile takes over his lips. Eight years later, he has the same look, this smile that changed everything. "You forgot your promise again, like back then. I'm still waiting for it, y/n" His words hit you like a bomb. Because they are exactly the same ones he said to you the day you made that stupid promise to him. This stupid gift.

And as if you weren't stupid enough, you secretly thought of the same gift. You internally promised yourself that you would give him the same kiss if he managed to beat you in karting. And he did it, as if he had put all his soul into the race to deserve this surprise gift from you. You feel helpless as the same panic takes hold of you. Everything seems so unreal. This sweet memory will finally happen again.

You see his eyes drop to your lips for a split second. But it's that split second that changes everything about you. Now you know it's for life. That you found the boy of your heart, that you will never leave him again, even if he doesn't feel the same way as you. That you only have one life to regret nothing, and this childhood kiss you have never regretted. So you never want to regret it.

You smile shyly, and without him being able to do anything, you crash your lips onto his. Lando's eyes widen, but he finally realizes what's happening. And he doesn't wait any longer to move his lips to yours. But this time the kiss is totally different. It is no longer innocent and shy like it used to be. It's no longer a little kiss between two teenagers who promised each other a gift.

No, this time it's much more romantic. More intense, deep and passionate. It's so comforting and sweet. This kiss is the fruit of the unconditional love he feels for you. So, he continues to deepen the kiss, his hand delicately cupping your cheek while his arm comes around your waist.

He licks your bottom lip with his tongue before nibbling it gently, letting you completely devote yourself to him. He continues to kiss you passionately, but yet it's not vulgar or crude. It's a soft and pleasant kiss, where only love is exchanged between your lips.

You finally broke the kiss by pulling back, a shy smile matching your pink cheeks perfectly. He opens his eyes, a silly smile on his lips before quickly pecking your lips again. You stay like that for a moment, admiring each other for a long time, love in your eyes.

"I'm so fucking in love with you, baby. Not since yesterday, not since last week, no. Since ages ago, for so long that I've stopped counting." You smile at him tenderly, your cheeks still pink. "Me too, Lando. I've loved you since we first met."

He smiles wider as his arms pull you a little closer to him. "You know, you're the girl who stole my first kiss. And you're also the only girl who managed to steal my heart. My heart has been yours for eight years, since the very moment you took me kissed." You can’t help but giggle, which melts Lando’s heart. “I thought you stopped counting.” He scratches the back of his neck, somewhat embarrassed. “Let’s just say I kept counting because I was desperate to know when I was going to find the woman I love.”

In the meantime he leaned over you, until you were lying on the soft sand. “Every day you were gone was like a bullet in my chest.” “What a romantic, I’m almost going to get emotional” You tease, a mocking laugh coming from you. “Still as teasing as before” He adds, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"For eight years, you were the only girl who never stopped staying anchored in my thoughts. From our first kiss, my heart already belonged to you, and it will continue to be yours for the rest of my life. I never wanted any other girl but you, and I waited so long for you that I'll never let you go. I love you so much, sweetheart” His words warm your heart, as you gently caress his face with your thumbs. “I’m completely in love with you too, Lan.” And in these last words, he rushes to kiss you again.

You feel like eight years ago, like the two idiots in love who stole their first kiss. Nothing has changed except the reality that reminds you that your love is bound for eternity, and that it will continue to exist because it is deeper and more passionate every day. That this is the present moment, and that your hearts are finally filled with happiness to have been able to find their other half, after so many years of desperately continuing to live without the presence of the other.

[hongcherry]

pretty please (just this once) || c.sc

Seungcheol comes to visit you while you're working on a photo shoot; however, he ends up staying after you ask him for a favor.

🍒 Pairing: businessWorker!Seungcheol x fashionDesigner!Reader (f) 🍒 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Fluff, slice of life; Non-idol au, Pretty Please couple 🍒 Warnings: Suggestive content and allusions to sexual activities 🍒 Word Count: 4.1k 🍒 Timeline: This takes place before "love me," but you don't need to read that prior to this. 🍒 Author’s Note: Happy (almost) weekend! As planned, here's another installment of the Pretty Please universe ♥️ I'm excited to publish the next one! Spoiler: It's a two-parter 😉

pretty please masterpost | seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

this blog is 18+. minors do not interact. plz & ty! (ageless/minors/blanks blogs will be blocked)

“He did what?”

Your hands still and eyes narrow at Yumi, irritation quickly growing upon hearing the bad news.

“Apparently, he accidentally double-booked himself,” Yumi explains as calmly as she can.

Your eyes roll before you can stop them, hands dropping from the garnet you were working on.

Prior to booking your model, you had triple-checked both your schedules to ensure they aligned. Now, hearing that he canceled an hour before the shoot, has steam shooting out your ears.

Sure, you can reschedule, but you have already rented the space and have a deadline to meet for the photos. Additionally, you can no longer trust your old model to show up anymore.

“Of course he did,” you scoff and grab your phone. You’re not sure what you are going to do with it, but you grab it on instinct. Maybe subconsciously you think you can call in another model, but you doubt it due to the short time frame.

Sensing your thoughts, Yumi says, “Maybe there’s still someone available.”

Huffing, you throw your hands in the air in exasperation.

“Fine. Let’s try,” you say and unlock your phone to begin trying to get another model.

Not a second later, the door to the dressing room opens.

“Hey, ba—What’s wrong?”

Seungcheol slows his steps when he sees the tell-tale sign of distress on your face.

“What are you doing here?” you wonder, voice gentler but still on edge.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he replies, lifting up a bag of what you suspect are yummy goodies.

Your heart does a little flip despite you wanting it to. You had never considered yourself a hopeless romantic, but the small gesture tugs on your emotions.

“Thanks, it’s just—” You begin to say but a poke on your arm stops you. You glance at Yumi, whose eyes are flicking between you and Seungcheol. You can tell there’s an idea brewing in her head.

“What about him?” she whispers, but there’s no other sound in the room to cover her voice.

“What about him?” you repeat.

“He can be our solution!”

Your eyes widen slightly in realization, then you’re shaking your head.

“He doesn’t have experience,” you explain.

Yumi frowns. “At this point, we just need a good face. And look at him,” she pauses to gesture to Seungcheol. He stands with his head slightly cocked in confusion.

“He’s perfect.”

Your lips purse as you take in your boyfriend. There’s no doubt that he’s handsome, and his build is impressive… But what would your boss say if she sees someone unknown in the fashion world in the photos? She has a policy about not using rookies in her shoots. Though at the same time, what would she say if you didn’t get anyone at all?

You’re at an odds.

“What’s going on, Cherry?” Seungcheol questions.

You sigh for what seems like the tenth time.

“Our model quit on us last minute,” you disclose.

“You don’t have a backup?”

His question brings forth more irritation; however, that stems from self-anger than anger directed at him. You should’ve known better.

“Unfortunately, not, but,” Yumi trails off and she glances at you for approval.

It’s not like Seungcheol doesn’t have the looks, but he’s never done this before and what if he feels uncomfortable? Though, your hands are tied and you’ve already lost time.

You rub your lips together before finishing Yumi’s sentence.

“Since you’re here, would you mind stepping in?”

Seungcheol cocks an eyebrow up.

“You want me to be your model?” he asks in disbelief.

“You have the looks,” you shrug, trying to hide the smile that wants to form when he averts his gaze shyly.

“I’m not sure,” he fades off.

“Please? Just this once? We’ll guide you,” you offer some reassurance.

Seungcheol glances at the door as if imagining himself at the setup out there. 

PDA isn’t something you favor, but since it’s only you three in the room, you decide to test your luck. You step forward and guide his face back to yours. Your thumb brushes over his cheek gently.

“You’d really be helping me out, babe,” you plead.

He still looks unsure. 

You give him a peck on the lips. “Please?”

Seungcheol’s free hand squeezes your waist.

“Fine. What do I need to do?” He sighs.

You grin and give him another kiss. His hand moves to your lower back to pull you closer. Not wanting the kiss to last too long, you pull away after three seconds.

You straighten your clothes as if wiping away your embarrassment.

Yumi watches with a mix of surprise and delight. You’re unsure of their origins, but you get the hint it’s from seeing this new side of you.

You met Yumi on your first day of work a few months ago. She’s interning at the company, learning from fellow fashion designers and event coordinators. You don’t always work with her on projects, but she was assigned to this one with you as the lead.

You weren’t sure what to think of Yumi in the beginning; however, you’ve learned to like her. She is hard-working and passionate—two things you can relate to.

After clearing your throat, you instruct, “Tell the photographer to be ready in thirty.”

Yumi lingers in the room, eyes moving between you and Seungcheol, then she leaves.

You let out a breath when the door closes.

Yumi was aware you had a partner, but she’s never seen or met Seungcheol. You guess she doesn’t need an introduction now.

“I’ll take that,” you say and grab the bag from Seungcheol’s hands. You take a peek inside and see a bowl of noodles and veggies. Your tummy growls.

“When was the last time you ate?” Seungcheol wonders.

You set the bag down and move to the clothes rack.

“It’s been a while,” you answer vaguely. “Take off your clothes.”

“Cherry, you can’t starve yours—”

“I’m not. I’ll eat soon,” you interrupt.

When you see Seungcheol studying you rather than stripping in your peripheral, you turn to him with a frown.

“Seungch—”

“I know, I need to change, but your health is important,” he scolds lightly.

“So is this photoshoot,” you reply. You take off a few pieces from the rack and transfer it to an empty one.

Seungcheol reaches out to grab your arm.

“Baby,” he calls for your attention.

You look at him.

“At least eat a little while I change,” he suggests.

“I need to get hair and makeup—”

Seungcheol leans in and shuts you up with a kiss.

Your body wants to melt into his touch, but you force yourself to stay alert. Now’s not the time.

You gently push his chest to pull away.

“Eat,” he says.

Sighing, you relent with a nod. Just the smell of the dish is making your mouth water. You know he’s right. 

You gesture to the clothes and Seungcheol nods in understanding.

Once he starts changing, you text Yumi to inform her of your outfit choice and for the hair and makeup crew to get ready. Then, you sit on the couch and open the noodle meal Seungcheol brought.

Your boyfriend, now without his shirt, smiles at you—pleased to see you doing as he said.

Your gaze meets his, and your heart skips a beat. He looks too good shirtless. It doesn’t matter that you’ve seen it before; it still has an effect on you.

Seungcheol chuckles at your reaction and removes his pants.

“Lucky you, Cherry. You get lunch and a show,” he teases.

You roll your eyes in lieu of showing you flustered.

“Change faster,” you huff after you swallow a bite.

Seungcheol grins bigger, taking the pants on the rack and stepping into one leg.

“Afraid of what’ll happen if I stay naked for too long?” he taunts.

“You’re not naked,” you mumble, eating again.

“Bet you wish I was though.” He smirks.

You send him a not-so-deadly glare. 

Unaffected by your stare, he chuckles and finishes changing. Luckily, the hair and makeup people come in a minute after he fastens the last button on his shirt.

The outfit is a plain, all-black trousers and suit jacket, but Seungcheol fits the outfit perfectly. He suits formal wear extremely well.

The hair stylist gives him a wet-haired look and the makeup artist keeps it simple.

You hurry and finish half your food so you can check on the crew in the main studio. Thankfully, they’ve finished getting ready without any hiccups.

The door to the dressing room opens and Seungcheol comes to stop beside you. He may feel out of place, but he doesn’t look like it. You stare at him a little too long before adjusting the outfit. Though, there’s not much to adjust. You’re just worrying. 

“You sure about this?” you ask.

“Ah, not really,” he answers hesitantly, “but if it helps you, then I’ll be fine.”

Three words sit on your tongue, but you can’t find the courage to say them. It’s not that you don’t believe them, but there are people in hearing range, and saying it has always felt awkward to you.

Seungcheol gives you a reassuring smile. You know he wants to kiss you by the way he keeps glancing at your lips, but you appreciate that he respects your boundaries. Especially while you’re at work.

The photographer guides him to sit on the leather armchair. Seungcheol does so stiffly.

“Try to relax and look into the lens,” they instruct. “Pretend you’re a wealthy, overly confident CEO.”

Seungcheol nods and leans against the armrest. It looks almost unnatural.

Even though there’s music playing, the sounds of the camera feel extra loud. You peer at the monitor and watch as the pictures begin to appear.

The photographer moves to different angles. Seungcheol shifts a bit as he follows the camera.

After a few more shots, the photographer tilts their head.

“Let’s try resting your chin on your hand,” they say.

Seungcheol follows, but there’s still something off. You can tell the photographer thinks so too from their slightly furrowed brows and downturned lips.

Seungcheol’s not oblivious to everyone’s reaction. He becomes more rigid and mimics everyone’s small frown.

You rub your lips together in thought. Maybe Seungcheol really wasn’t the best choice. He has the looks, but the photos are not coming across well.

“Let’s take five,” you call out, walking toward the setup and stopping at the edge of the backdrop.

“Follow me,” you tell Seungcheol and turn on your heel. You hear Seungcheol excuse himself as he stands from his chair.

You guide him back to the dressing room and find it empty.

“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol says as soon as he shuts the door. “I’m trying, but it’s weird having everyone stare at me.”

You lean against the built-in vanity counter with your hands resting on it. You stare long enough without a word for Seungcheol to apologize again.

You know you can’t blame him. It’s uncomfortable to try something new in front of strangers. However, it’s too late to try to get a model. Either you deal with the unsatisfactory photos or you try to knock some confidence in Seungcheol. You go for the latter.

“Don’t apologize,” you sigh and walk to him. “I’ll ask them to leave.”

“It’s fine,” he mumbles.

You raise your hands to his shoulders and begin massaging the knots out. His shoulders slowly begin to deflate. 

“Try to focus on something besides the camera,” you suggest.

His frown deepens. “That’s hard to do when I’m supposed to look at it.”

You take a step closer, gaze lingering on the deep v the suit jacket makes.

“Then maybe imagine it’s me,” you reply, a hand trailing down. Your fingertips graze his exposed chest.

“You?” he asks with an airy voice.

“Yeah,” you smile and trace shapes on his skin lightly. Seungcheol’s pupils begin to dilate.

“What about you?” he asks.

Your eyes flicker to his. There’s mischief in them before you speak that causes Seungcheol to hold his breath.

“Use your imagination,” you tease.

As you’re about to pull away, Seungcheol grabs your waist and flushes your body against his. His mouth captures yours, fingers slipping under your shirt to touch your bare skin.

The simple touch makes your heart thump faster against your ribcage and your knees feel weak. 

“Cheol,” you mumble against his lips, grabbing his hands. He hums and stays pressed against you.

You try to tear his hands off you, but he persists. Granted, you didn’t try too hard.

“I miss you,” he says in the kiss.

You know you shouldn’t, but you lax in his arms. Despite seeing him nearly every night, you haven’t spent much time with him. It’s a busy season for you both at work and by the time you get home, both of you want to sleep.

You’ve missed his kisses and attention more than you realize.

A knock at the door jerks you away.

“Just wanted to let you know everyone’s back,” Yumi says from the other side of the door.

You clear your throat and step from Seungcheol who’s tempting you by just standing near.

“Thanks,” you reply. “We’ll be out in a moment.”

“Okay,” Yumi says.

You listen to her steps fade before looking at Seungcheol. He’s already straightened out his clothes.

“You good?” you ask.

“No, I could really use more alone time.”

You sigh. “Seungcheol.”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles. “I’m ready.”

You hum, turning to leave but stop with your hand hovering over the handle.

“Something wrong, Cherry?” Seungcheol asks behind you.

You bite your lip and spin around. You quickly lean in and give him another kiss.

“For luck,” you explain, then exit the room before he can do anything and before you cave into his touches. 

Seungcheol follows shortly after, standing a little taller and looking less awkward.

You watch as the photographer guides Seungcheol back into the chair.

“Okay, just think about the CEO thing,” they remind.

Seungcheol nods and rolls his shoulders. He’s a little stiff again at first, but after a few pictures, he loosens up.

At the start, you watch the monitor as the pictures appear, but your eyes end up gravitating toward the live shoot.

Seungcheol catches your gaze. Something stirs in your belly, and you watch as he shifts to sit lower in the chair and spreads his legs. He leans his head back slightly, keeping his eyes on yours. He really could pass as a well-known CEO. He has the looks, the aura, and the work ethic. For the briefest moments, you wonder how successful Seungcheol will be in the future.

“Oh, I love that! Let’s try moving lower, put a leg out,” the photographer instructs.

Seungcheol keeps his expression the same but does as told. He hangs one arm off the side of the chair while the other stays beside him.

“That’s great! Now, eyes on the camera,” they say.

Seungcheol tears his eyes from you to the lens. You release a silent breath you didn't know you were holding.

You can’t help your eyes trailing down his body slouched on the chair.

Seungcheol shifts once more to rest a hand on the top of his thigh. The subtle change makes your mind race with thoughts of being kneeled between his legs. You curse mentally, changing weight to your other hip and looking at the monitor again.

Though that doesn’t help.

Since he’s looking at the camera, his stare bores into yours through the screen. If you didn’t know him, you’d think he’d done this before.

“He looks good,” Yumi whispers beside you.

You turn to her, unable to hide the small pang of jealousy that bursts in your chest.

Yumi laughs and shakes her hands in the air.

“Not like that,” she says, a hint of humor to her tone. “I mean, he looks good enough to make the boss woman happy.”

“Ah. Right,” you mumble.

She smiles and nudges your shoulder, eyes on Seungcheol still posing. You move your gaze to him as well.

He’s sat up now, legs still spread but looking down at the camera. You push away the memories of seeing him in a similar position in private. 

“Though I can’t say you aren’t lucky,” Yumi adds. “He sure is handsome.”

“Yeah. He is,” you murmur. For the first time, you scan the audience, noticing how many of the people watch on with interest. 

“I think we have enough of these,” the photographer announces and turns to you.

Seungcheol stands and follows the photographer toward you.

“Great,” you say, snapping out of your thoughts and reining in your lurking jealousy. “We have enough time for a quick wardrobe change and a few more pictures.”

“Sounds good,” the photographer says.

“Come,” you instruct Seungcheol.

You get him changed and his makeup adjusted quickly. You had a few more outfit options, but with the fiasco earlier, you’ve run out of time to try them all.

You lead Seungcheol back to the set, not having much time to take a break.

You watch from the sidelines again as the photographer guides Seungcheol into different poses and expressions.

Seungcheol has gone into character, following the photographer’s instructions with as much ease as he can for an amateur. Which, to be fair, seems to be above average. You’re surprised to see him doing so well.

By the time they’re done, you only have twenty minutes left of your rented space.

The photographer gives you a flash drive with the photos and let’s you know you have a week to pick your favorite ones so they can edit them. Normally, the photographer would keep the photos and select the best ones themselves, but since this photographer works within the same company, things are a little different.

The hair and makeup team have already cleared out their stuff from the dressing room when you walk in with Seungcheol.

You sit on the couch and grab your laptop, inserting the USB drive into the slot and opening the photos.

“These turned out really good, Cheol,” you praise enthusiastically as you swipe through the photos.

Seungcheol glances up from unbuttoning his shirt. “I guess your advice worked then.”

“What advice?” you ask, distracted with studying the images.

You don’t hear Seungcheol move closer until he grabs the laptop and sets it aside. You look at him confused.

“You said to imagine the camera was you,” he replied.

Your words flood back into your brain. “O-Oh.”

He chuckles.

“I’m glad it worked,” you say, ignoring the pounding of your heart.

He raises an eyebrow. “You don’t wanna know what I was thinking about?”

“You already said me,” you reply hesitantly.

Seungcheol slowly rests his hands on the back of the couch, caging you in. You stare up at him—excited and nervous for his answer.

“You, in that sheer cherry lingerie… wearing that necklace I gave you on our first month anniversary,” he says lowly, deep voice luring you in.

Your mind races with the memory of showing him that for the first time. Warmth floods your chest and goes south recalling how many times you had cum that night. You hadn’t expected him to get so worked up at the sight, but you didn’t complain.

“You were a great inspiration,” he whispers and leans down closer. His lips hover over yours, a smirk on them.

“Kiss me like you want to,” he says.

You curse at him silently. It’s not that you don’t want to, but knowing he knows how badly you want it, makes you stay still.

“I think you want it more,” you reply.

He chuckles and slowly retracts himself. He shrugs, taking off his shirt and placing it on a hanger.

“Where should this go?” he asks.

You swallow the lump in your throat and point to the rack to the left.

He eyes you for a moment longer before setting the hanger on the rack. You know he’s amused by your loss of words.

When he starts unbuttoning his pants, you shoot up from the couch.

“I’m going to make sure everything’s okay out there,” you announce and then swiftly walk toward the door.

“Hey, now,” Seungcheol calls out, grabbing your wrist and gently spinning you into his arms. His hands rest on your hips while yours flatten against his bare, muscular chest.

“You can’t leave me, pretty girl,” he says.

“I—I think you can get dressed without me,” you reply, trying to escape his hold.

“I don’t know,” he hums. He trails his hands up your body and grabs your hands. He pushes them down to the top of his already unbuttoned pants.

“Lend me a hand?” he questions darkly.

“We can’t do anything,” you warn, worried someone will come in.

“I know,” he says with a subtle frown, “but I just… wanna be close to you for a bit.”

Your chest clutches knowing he’s feeling the same about your busy schedules. You’re surprised he’s been here for so long.

“You’re not busy?” you ask, starting to carefully push his pants down his thighs. Your hands brush against his skin, making you yearn for more.

“I had some meetings get canceled,” he explains and watches you lean down slightly to get the rest of the pants off. He steps out of them.

You pick them up and start hanging them when Seungcheol wraps his arms around you from behind. You suck in a breath when you feel his growing bulge against you.

“Sorry,” he mumbles into your neck.

You place the hanger on the rack and turn in his arms.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, finally giving in to the kiss you wanted earlier.

Seungcheol holds you tighter, making you feel him more and causing arousal to shoot downward. It’s been too long since you’ve felt him fill you. You whimper into the kiss accidentally at the mere thought.

“Fuck, you’re making this hard,” he groans while pulling away.

You giggle, dazed by his kiss. “I know.”

He chuckles and rests his forehead against yours.

“That’s not what I meant,” he mutters.

You lean in to peck his lips again.

“I know,” you repeat. “You’re making this hard too.”

And how could he not when he’s kissing you heavenly and pressing up against you with his near-naked body—one that’s a sight for sore eyes.

“Let’s go on a date this weekend,” he suggests, hands rubbing your sides.

“Really?” you ask. You know people go on dates on the whim—you don’t need a reason—yet the idea of one randomly still surprises you.

“Yeah. Wanna spend time with you,” he says and kisses you shortly. “Wanna see you get all dolled up just for me.”

You smile and wrap your arms around his waist. You press your cheek against his naked chest, basking in his embrace.

“I’d like that,” you reply.

“I knew you would,” he says and hugs you tightly. He gives your head a tender kiss, letting the moment run its course.

Although you’re still weary about being so intimate in a public setting, you can’t help but get lost in the desire to feel Seungcheol. To just have him here with you.

“I guess I better get dressed,” he says after a while.

You linger for just a moment, then slowly release him. You feel cold without his heated body against yours.

“You working late tonight?” he asks while changing back into his work suit.

You begin packing the clothes in garment bags.

“Hopefully not. Just my normal hours,” you answer. “And you?”

“Unfortunately,” he sighs.

You hide your frown and zip up the bags.

“How late?” you wonder, hanging the bags from your arms and grabbing your purse.

“Not too late this time. Maybe an hour or two?” he replies.

You nod.

Seungcheol, now dressed, takes the garment bags from your arm despite your protests.

“I’ll help you load your car, then I’ll get back,” he informs.

Nodding once more, you lead him out. There’s only three people lingering around, cleaning the area. You bid them goodbye and guide Seungcheol to your car. After everything is packed, Seungcheol hovers by your side.

“I hope your boss is happy with the photos,” he says.

“She better be,” you reply. “We had a handsome man modeling.”

He grins. “Oh, yeah? You got a crush on ‘em now?”

“A big one,” you tease.

Seungcheol chuckles and kisses your cheek. He seems to want to say something but hesitates.

“I’ll see you at home. Drive safe,” he finally says.

“You too, Cheol.”

Seungcheol opens your car door and makes sure you’re in safely before shutting it. He stays on the sidewalk to watch you depart. In your rearview mirror, you see him turn and head toward his car.

You wish he wasn’t walking in the other direction and hope the day goes by fast. You just want to be in his arms again.

A/N: How could I not take the opportunity to write about Seungcheol modeling with this couple??? Do you guys think this will be the last time PrettyPlease!Seungcheol does this for Cherry? 🫣

For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

Taglist: @musingsofananxiouspotato, @christinewithluv, @lockburn-castle, @iammisstora, @maknae00, @morklee02, @kittyhui, @aeerio, @cherrylovescheol, @ellllsia, @gyuguys

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Aakhon Mein Teri ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Summary: Lando Norris and his very desi girlfriend <3

: ̗̀➛ ln4 x desi!reader ₊˚⊹♡

: ̗̀➛ fluff + humour ₊˚⊹♡

masterlist ☾☼

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 321,970 others

yourusername: manifesting that our story doesn't end like om shanti om

view all 85,261 comments

landonorris this movie was traumatising

yourusername no it wasn't!

user1 it really is

landonorris next time im picking a movie for movie night

yourusername no 😚

user2 dunno who i love more srk or lando

yourusername the only reason im with lando is cause srk is too old for me

landonorris wtf babe????

maxfewtrell you need to stop showing him movies that'll keep him up at night

carlossainz he's a child

danielricciardo too young to watch horror movies

landonorris THANK YOU

user3 i love how they came for lando's rescue 😂😂😂

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 715,026 others

yourusername gora pakora with his little spicy pakora

view all 291,008 comments

landonorris youre so beautiful

yourusername no you

landonorris i am

yourusername 😒

landonorris wtf is a gora pakora

user1 NO ONE TELL HIM

user2 youre a gora pakora lando

oscarpiastri yall are cute

yourusername lily and i are cuter tho

alexalbon youve already stolen my lily, why do you need another one

yourusername alexalbon im collecting all your girlfriends and then we're gonna ditch yall and live happily ever after

charlesleclerc alexandrasaintmleux stay away

alexandrasaintmleux no 😚

user3 PARENTS

user4 LANDO IN A KURTA LANDO IN A KURTA THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL

user5 im dead he looks so beautiful

yourusername

liked by mclaren, landonorris and 853,017 others

yourusername poor guy's gonna lose all his money now that he's marrying me

view all 604,321 comments

landonorris can't wait to marry you

mclaren congratulations to the happy couple!

user6 shes such a gold digger

user1 no you dumbass. indian weddings have like, 13 different ceremonies to it

user2 my parents are getting married

user4 can't believe he's willingly giving away all of his money to her

carlossainz congratulation kids

danielricciardo they grow up so fast

maxverstappen1 i just read somewhere that there are 13 ceremonies???

yourusername yes there's going to be a meeting about it. i expect you to be there

maxverstappen1 im scared

yourusername you should be

oscarpiastri cant believe youre getting married!

user5 i love how y/n's gonna have a meeting to explain the wedding process to all of them

user1 indian weddings are no joke 😭😭😭

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and 981,003 others

yourusername my radha was on the dance floor 🕺❤️

view all 704,692 comments

landonorris im so happy i married you i love you sm

yourusername i love you sm too

user1 WE NEED MORE DETAILS

carlossainz how did your wedding end up being more tiring than a triple header???

yourusername its the beauty of indian weddings

oscarpiastri i honestly feel like im still drunk

landonorris as you should be

mclaren NO AS YOU SHOULDNT BE

georgerussell beautiful beautiful wedding guys

yourusername carmen looked so pretty i wouldve married her instead

carmenmmundt YES

georgerussell NO

landonorris NO

danielricciardo all those dance practices paid off

yourusername you bet im gonna use the sangeet videos on your birthdays

charlesleclerc please dont we beg you

yourusername MWAHAHA

alexalbon landonorris your wife is being mean to us

yourusername he won't say anything he loves me

landonorris i do

maxfewtrell whipped

user2 I NEED TO SEE THIS VIDEO

user4 im so happy for them im gonna cry

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

this is my first smau! i'm still learning to do these, so I'm sorry if this was bad! the dupatta getting caught on lando's watch idea was a request by @justadesirebel and I'm so sorry it took me so much time to make this! but, anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this! also, the title "aakhon mein teri" translated means "in your eyes" and I chose that because the scene in the movie when the actress' dupatta gets caught in the actor's watch, that's the song playing in the background! i've also got a link for my taglist that you can find here!

[rowdyluv]

ᴄʜʀɪsᴛᴍᴀs ʟᴏᴠᴇ - ǫʜ⁴³

summary: in which Quinn and Y/n go to her childhood home for Christmas.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: fluff, fem!reader, mother misunderstands reader’s reaction, [trigger warning: alludes to loss of pregnancy, minor/brief discussion of fertility complication], use of random names for characters (sister, brother-in-law),

notes: if I missed any warnings please kindly tell me I don’t think I missed any but always possible. picture at the end will make sense once read. ☺︎︎

© property of rowdyluv ; do not copy and re-upload as your own - anywhere. do not place my work inside AI codes, do not translate.

“Oh I can’t believe Dad did all this!” Y/n gasped and grabbed at Quinn’s upper arm as he was pulling into the driveway. The outside of Y/n’s childhood home was adorned with Christmas lights and the yard had an inflatable Santa with Rudolf. “He used to do this for me and Leora growing up.” Her eyes were crinkled in the corners from smiling so brightly.

Quinn grabbed their bags out of the car and headed up the walkway to the front door. None the wiser that she had stopped to take a picture to send off to her older sister of the old blow up that graced the front yard. He soon realized she wasn’t by his side when he was first greeted with hugs making him tense at first, a bit uncomfortable.

"Merry Christmas, Quinn!" Y/n's mother beamed as she pulled him into a warm embrace. The smell of gingerbread wafted from the kitchen, mingling with the signature comforting perfume of her mom. “We are all so happy you could join us here this year! We are so excited to have you two home for Christmas.” Quinn felt the tension ease from his shoulders and relax from her greeting.

“Merry Christmas, Momma!” Y/n yelled from behind Quinn trying to shuffle around him to get to her.

Her mother released Quinn and wrapped her daughter in her arms. “Look at you two all dressed alike for your travels!” she exclaimed, her eyes shining with joy as she pulled back to look at them both. “Look sweetie, they have matching Christmas sweaters!” Her mother yelled over her shoulder towards Y/n’s father while also ushering the two in. “Do you remember when we were their age, just two kids so in love we couldn’t stand it?”

Quinn took a moment to appreciate the warmth of the house, the soft glow of the Christmas lights reflecting off the family photos lining the walls, framed certificates that had been earned by Leora or Y/n through the years, and low hanging taped coloring pages. He watched as Y/n disappeared into the kitchen to help her mom, her need to catch up with her mom showing. It wasn’t long after that her sister, and co arrived. Their ever curious two-year-old daughter toddled over to Quinn, her eyes wide with curiosity towards the stranger. He knelt down, offering a gentle smile.

“Hi! Bye!” She said loudly into Quinn’s face, waved nearly smacking him before toddling off to her grandpa.

“I am so sorry about that, she is in a “there is no stranger danger” phase right now. Name’s David, Leora’s husband.” David apologized and stuck his hand out to Quinn to shake. Quinn, the ever socially awkward person shook his hand but forgot to introduce himself. “I’m going to guess that you’re the ever famous Quinn we hear about all the time?”

“Right. Sorry man, yes. M’Quinn, I’m Y/n’s boyfriend.” Quinn cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck.

He searched the room for his girlfriend hoping he could meet her eyes and plead with her to come to him, but she was yet to resurface from the kitchen. He couldn’t help but feel a bit out of place amidst this flurry of familial affection. He had only been able to meet Y/n’s parents a few times, and while they were very welcoming, he was still the outsider at their intimate gatherings. Her parents loved him and accepted their relationship, but with the two of them living in a different country than the rest of her family, it hinders the process of getting to know them better.

David had to sprint off after his toddler to keep her out of the presents and Y/n’s sister was now in the center of the living room, cradling her freshly changed and back to sleeping three month old son.

“Quinn, do you.” Y/n’s eyes caught a hold of her older sister and her baby nephew.

The sight of Leora with the baby boy brought a new level of excitement to Y/n’s eyes. She nearly squealed and rushed over.

“Lee, can I?” Y/n’s voice was soft, warm, but held a hint of longing buried deep behind it. Her sister handed over the tiny bundle of joy with a knowing smile, and Y/n's heart swelled.

Y/n’s soft gasp spread across the room as she took her nephew into her arms. Y/n's eyes searched for any sign of resemblance between Leora and the tiny baby, her fingers tracing the soft lines of his face. He stirred slightly at her touch, his tiny eyes blinking open to reveal the same shade of brown as his mom’s. Y/n whispered a proud, "Hey there little man, I’m your auntie," and his eyes locked onto hers. At the most perfect time his muscles twitch causing him to smile at her.

“Quinn, come look.” Y/n called and he moved cautiously. He was already taking in so much, feeling so much in that moment. It was a moment that seemed to freeze time for Quinn, watching his girlfriend hold something so tiny and fragile like it was the most precious thing in the world. Watching her mask how badly she wants that life for herself. Quinn was feeling the weight of this moment in the millions multiplied by his Christmas gift for her.

"Honey, why don't you two go sit in the rocker?" Y/n's mom suggested, noticing the way Y/n's eyes never left the baby. She knew that look all too well, it was the same look she had when she finally held her daughters for the first time. “It’s down in your all’s old room.”

“Can I?” Y/n asks her sister hopefully, after all the small human in her arms isn’t hers.

With a simple smile and a nod of approval y/n carried him into the room that used to be hers and her sister’s sanctuary. The rocking chair, a well-loved piece of furniture that had seen countless bedtimes and stories, sat back in its rightful place in the corner. Y/n settled into it, her body moving automatically with the gentle sway as she held her nephew close.

Quinn slowly followed her down the hall, unsure if he could handle another sight of her so domestic.

In the room, Y/n's voice was a soft lullaby, humming the familiar tune of "You Are My Sunshine." The rocking chair creaked rhythmically, echoing the steady beat of her heart. She sat in the glow of the Christmas lights that had been strung across the ceiling, casting a warm, nostalgic ambiance over the space. The baby's eyes grew heavy as he listened to the sweet melody that had filled this room so many times before. Y/n's mother looked on from the doorway with a knowing smile, her own eyes misting over with tears.

Y/n’s mom had sensed something was different. She just couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was with her daughter. She could sense that something has shifted in her in the last year or so and seeing her with her nephew only solidified her thoughts.

“When were you all going to tell me?” Her mother softly asked, grabbing ahold of Quinn’s hand giving it a comforting squeeze. “I would have been on the next flight to Vancouver. I’m sure she told you I had tro-.”

With wide eyes and nearly choking on his intake of air he startled her quiet mid-sentence when he looked at her so fast.

“No, no, this is just her longing for her own family..She wants her own family so badly and I want a family with her.” Quinn explained. “I will do whatever it takes to give her whatever she wants, we’ve discussed it. Even been to a specialist to ease her mind.”

Y/n’s mother nodded, she was shocked she misunderstood what her daughter was portraying, she thought she knew that look in her daughter’s eyes well, she was so sure it was the same one she had before she finally had her own children. Watching the different looks cross Y/n’s mother’s face Quinn took a deep breath before his next words fell, “I talked to your hu..”

She cut him off this time. “I know honey. Hard part is talking to her.” She patted him on the back and headed back down the hall, sending y/n’s brother in law after the baby. “Don’t wait any longer!” She whisper-yelled back to Quinn.

David poked his head into the room, “Hey, you okay?” He nodded towards the baby in Y/n’s arms, “He’s probably looking for a bottle, he’s usually hungry around this time.”

“But he’s asleep?” Y/n countered.

“Oh yeah.” He racked his brain for a different reason than a bottle. “Let me take him and check his diaper at least. Momma sent me in here don’t want to come out with out the baby.”

Y/n looked down at her nephew and her heart swelled. She didn’t want to let him go, but she knew her sister would let her have him again before her and Quinn left. She kissed him on the forehead and passed him over to his daddy.

Quinn took a deep breath as he leaned against the door frame. He admired the warm glow from the Christmas lights and the way they cast a soft halo around Y/n once more.

“Hey sweet girl, how about you come with me?” Quinn asked her.

She looked up from her lap and met his soft gaze and smiled at him before meeting him in the doorway.

Quinn led her to the formal living room that had been left untouched by the Christmas chaos of the toddler. The large Christmas tree in front of the window was the only thing that took up space in the room. They sat down together on the plush couch, the colorful lights from the tree casting a glow around them. Y/n leaned into him and took a hold of his hand playing with his fingers like she always does when they cuddle on the couch, basking in the comfort of his presence.

He took in a deep centering breath before starting to spill his heart out.

"You know, I'm not very good at expressing how I feel or remembering to tell you just how much you mean to me," Quinn began, his voice low and earnest.

"That was a constant struggle for us, wasn’t it?” She whispered and pinched his hand for effect. Quinn let out a little yelp of pain before continuing what he was trying to say.

“But I need you to know you’re the other half of my heart, the one that keeps me going even when I'm miles away from home." His words were met with a soft sigh from Y/n as she nestled closer. "I can't imagine a Christmas without you by my side."

He paused and sat her upright so he could look her in the eyes.

“No. Not just Christmas without you, but New Year’s, Valentine’s Day, uhm uh, what comes next?” He started to stutter and stumble over his words. “Whatever it is, I don't want to do it without you. I haven’t had to in a while now and I don’t want to start now, okay?”

“Quinn, where is this coming from?”

“From my heart, where you’ve been living in since the first day we met.” He replied, his eyes never leaving hers. His thumb traced the line of her jaw as he continued. “You’ve given me more joy, more comfort, more love than anyone I’ve ever known. And every time I hold your hand, or kiss your forehead, or see your smile light up the entire rink when we see each other at warmies. God how you just were with your nephew, how I know you’re going to be with our. I know that this is where I’m meant to be, with you, forever. And I want to make that promise to you, in front of everyone who loves you, who loves us.”

Her eyes searched his, looking for any doubt, but there was none to be found, only love, pure unadulterated love. Quinn was moving to the floor to kneel on one knee when she grabbed at his face.

“Yes. A thousand times over. In a different universe yes. In a different time period yes. God you could have asked me 24 hours after we met and I would’ve said yes.” She felt her heart beating faster than ever before she was talking so fast and not taking a break in between her words.

“Sweetheart you didn’t even let the poor boy ask!” A sweet frail female voice rang out. Quinn looked over his left shoulder and Y/n peaked right his shoulder.

“Hi Granny.” Y/n giggled.

Her grandmother’s announcement got the attention of the rest of her family giving Quinn an audience. “Alright young man, get on with it I’m hungry!” A huskier, grumpier voice huffed out.

“Pappy! Let him be.” Leora scolded. A couple “shhhs” rang out and finally the silence was deafening. Quinn was positive his heart beat could be heard.

He readjusted himself to down on the carpet on one knee taking in a calming breath. Looking into Y/n’s eyes.

“Y/n, I’ve love you. Your spirit, your heart, your soul, they’re all so bright and beautiful. You light up any room you walk into, you make me want to be a better person. You’re the one who’s always been there for me, through every up and down. You’re my best friend, my partner, and the love of my life. Will you marry me?”

Much to her Pappy’s satisfaction he finally popped the question, his voice shaky although he knew that she already said yes before he asked, as he opened the small velvet box to reveal a sparkling sapphire gemstone aside an opal gemstone in the shape of hearts.

Without needing to answer again she still whispered a soft yes with a bright smile as Quinn slid the ring on her finger. She fell to her knees and once again grasped his face. She kissed him softly and with as much love as she could convey in one simple kiss.

“Quintin Jerome Hughes, I love you with everything that I am.”