#and any ship w enough angst

[rollercoasterwords]

top 5 marauders ships to read!!

hmmm to read?? i feel like

1. wolfstar (obvious)

2. dorlene (obvious)

3. jegulus (the jegulus writers have fully won me over at this point...the dynamic simply compels me)

4. pandalily (but specifically the fucked-up version. like. pandalily as liv @theinvisiblemuseum writes them 💕)

5. j/r/s. 😐 sorry but i do like it when they are all in love w each other 💕 bonus points if some of that love is unrequited 🤩

ask me top 5 anything!

[dutybcrne]

Those relationships where the characters are amicable exes who broke it off bc one or both had their respective traumas/emotional burdens they didn't want the other to feel responsible for, so they ended up repressing it all to the point where the distance that began to grow between them as a result was too insurmountable that they decided it was best to end things so, in their minds, the other could be free to pursue happiness without being 'burdened' by them. But both are even now still so very much in love with each other or at the very least hold a tender fondness and particularly Special protectiveness for each other that everyone can clearly see, no matter how much the two deny or brush it off by saying it would have never worked out in the end ( oh, but it COULD, it WOULD have if only they'd decided to TALK to each other, to be VULNERABLE with each other instead of just calling it quits ), despite every What If and If Only that crosses their minds every time their eyes meet.

Every time they see their longing mirrored in the other's eyes.

[jksian]

02 - You up? (m)

"Shut up and ride me, yeah?"

pairing: best friend Jungkook x inexperienced reader

genre: fwb, f2l, smut, angst and fluff

w/c: 3.8k

warning: phew well... teasing, netflix and chill y'k?, mentions of his tattooes, mentioned about the movie 'after' for once, mention of infidelity (I mean Jk's ex!), mention of a threesome🙊,overstimulation, fingering, sucking, reverse cowgirl oops, protected sex (jk uses protection, jk is smart, be like jk), marking, cum play?, use of vibrator👀, ✨SQUIRTING✨, everything is very wet wet, praises and kisses😍, intimacy!!!, crying (out of pleasure), little argument, JK is a soft dom because soft!dom supremacy!! and that's it, I think, also it's not edited!

a/n: okay so, I have found a very similar video of there first smut scene here, when he was fingering her. I wanted to share it with you guys. I was hesitant at first but with all of your votes being positive, I have the courage to do it, I think.

| Series masterlist | Masterlist |

When Jungkook asked you to hang out with him, you knew how it was going to be.

You under him, or in some cases, him under you.

In both cases, his dick would be buried deep inside of you.

When you got the massage ‘you up?’ it was inevitable what was the intention behind that. Still, your oblivious self made you sit here on his bed and scroll through hundreds of series in Netflix to choose which one to watch. You liked to make yourself dumb and naïve intentionally.

Ignorance is pure bliss. Indeed.

It wasn’t something out of the ordinary for you to found Jungkook’s hand caressing your naked thighs as his hands soon travels all over your exposed skin, before they found their shelter in between your legs.

Classic Netflix and chill version.

At first, it was just an ordinary evening where two friends hang out and watch some movies together, but your relationship with Jungkook wasn’t ordinary. What kind of relationship you had with him, anyways? Fuck buddies? Friends with benefits? Situation ship?

Nah. You both made it clear that you guys will remain friends no matter what, even though you heart wanted something more than that, you buried that desire deep inside of your head.

The movie ‘after’ played in his laptop, as you made yourself comfortable and took a seat in-between his legs, leaning your back on his chest.

Everything was good until the male protagonist started eating the female protagonist out in the movie, that scene made you shift uncomfortably in his hold.

Jungkook’s hand, which was rested on your thighs previously started rubbing soothing circle there, his face too close to your neck, almost nestling in it.

You breath hitched when his hands travelled up towards your torso, lifting your shirt a little to feel the soft skin there.

You whimpered a little, unexpectedly, when he twisted your nipple in between his fingers, rolling and squeezing the soft flesh and ravishing in the euphoric feeling.

He always loved your tits. Even though they were not as huge as every other boy fantasized about, they were enough. They were real. Whenever you expressed your slight insecurity about them, he was quick to comfort you, complementing about their shapes and how soft and perfect they were or how they always brought comfort to him. You found the later one, quite odd.

“What are you doing–,” Your voice was faint, merely able to held back the moan before it escaped from your throat because of the luscious touches of him.

He chuckled at your innocence or better, false innocence and brought your body closer to him, “Just want to touch you, may I?” His lips brushed against your earlobe before gently sucked on it.

You felt arousal coming out and ruining your panties further. The damage was already done, nothing to do about that.

You nodded and he didn’t waste any time and lifted your shirt up until your tits came to his vision, made it harder for the men behind you to breath.

One of his hand sneaking its way into your shorts, flickering your sensitive bud over your panties.

“W-we were supposed to watch the movie.” You cleared your throat and tried to act nonchalant but the quaver in your voice indicated otherwise.

He chuckled again, knowing very well the effect he had on you. “Is that so? But, I want you –,” He turned your face towards him, with his dark yet full of stars in his eyes, stared right back at you, “Now.”

His eyes flickered to your lips as his own tongue swiped over his lower one, licking your lips in the process before going back to your eyes.

You felt overwhelmed, with the amount of intensity he held in his eyes, at the way he touched you with his hands. Sinistery yet heavenly.

His lips crashed on yours, lips moving in sync, like they were made for each other, made to kiss and fold like this for forever.

You lips reminds him of the delicate caresses of a brush on canvas, where vibrant hues adorn the surface, creating it as beautiful and whole.

His fingers kept on pinching your nipples and massaging your tits at the same time. You couldn’t help but whimper in his hold, turning your face to moan which you were holding back. “Look at that, how wet you are.”

He whispered into your ear, warm breath hitting the side of your face as he started kissing your jawline, making his way to your neck. Alternating between kissing and gently sucking, he ensured that by the end, your body was adorned with an array of colors, colors of him, creating a vivid and captivating masterpiece.

“You’ve been grinding against me, so, isn’t it obvious?” Futile attempt to be sassy at that moment, especially when you couldn’t help but moan at every flicker of his finger on your clit.

“So you’re admitting it that I made you this wet, hmm?” You could see the cocky smile on his face even though your eyes were shut from the pleaser he was giving you.

Jungkook was good at many things but, knew it even better when it comes to using his fingers on you. He was familiar with your body as if it were the back of his hand.

He instructed you to lift your hips and pulled of your shorts along with your panties.

You heard him cursed under his breath when you spread your legs wide for him, gave him a glimpses of your glistening pussy.

He moaned into your neck when his finger slipped easily into your pussy, feeling more of your essence leaking on his finger. Your drenched pussy stuffed with his finger, “You’ve got a pretty little cunt, baby.”

The way your cheeks heat up was embarrassing, but you didn’t care the slightest and let the moans out freely.

Your eyes rolled back when he started pumping his finger without any mercy, your cunt clenched around his thick fingers adorned in various tattoos, stretching you out perfectly.

He groaned breathily into your ear at the squelching sounds, echoing through out his room. Your rested on his shoulder, eyes shut from the overwhelming sensation when he curled his fingers and hit the right spot.

“Oh fuck! K-keep going please –,” You pleaded, voice cracked as you weren’t even able to form a complete sentence.

“Please what, baby?” He still had time to tease when you were squirming and twisting under his hold, you wanted to smack him hard on his head but you decided to play it smart. Because, getting your release was more important than letting your ego win, especially when the men was so hot and called you ‘baby’. Wait…does he called you baby?

“Stop teasing and let me cum, Kook.” The way you called him that… should be illegal. You knew how he liked being called ‘kook’ and you used that to your advantage.

He grumbled and thrusted his fingers along with his thumb on your clit, giving hard flicks on the bundle of nerves, made your legs tremble.

“oh fuck –,” you moaned, biting on your bottom lip as your hips thrusted upwards on its own, chasing your release.

Your slick dripped down your thighs as you held onto Jungkook’s shoulder for your dear life, wrinkling up his t-shirt in your tight grasp.

“You look so fucking pretty when you cum, y’k?” He smirked at you and you just returned a glare before closing your eyes again and tried to catch your breath.

You felt him moving and when you looked around and saw him reaching down to the nightstand beside his bed and pulled out a condom along with something like���hold on!... Is that–

“Jungkook! What the fuck?” The disbelief in your eyes made him smirk even more, he found amusement in your little gasp, “Saved it for special occasions.” He said while grinning at his supposed comedic statement.

“Special occasions? Since when you had a vibrator with you?” You gave him a hard glare which was supposed to indicate that you were pissed but he laughed at that. He fuckin’ laughed.

“Bought it because, I thought…,” He moved his fingers, the same ones which was buried deep into your cunt and still had your cum on it, brushed it over your lower lip, “You’d like it.” Then shoved the same finger into his mouth.

He was a fucking maniac for moaning around his own fingers, as if he was tasting world’s most delicious food or something. The fingers came out of his mouth, coated with his saliva this time.

The slow buzz of the vibrator behind you made you shiver in his hold, you felt his hands on your hips, slowly dragging them up and down until he reached your ass. Squeezing your ass cheeks firmly, he landed a slap on it out of the blue and it made you squeal on his lap.

Leaning forward, Jungkook again, started peppering kisses on your back, sucking on any area he can and licking it afterwards as he continued, made your breath hitched.

His lips were irresistible. He was irresistible. As much as you hate to admit it, it was the truth. Even though, he was your best friend and you guys were on the strict rule of FWB, The men sucking on your skin made you this wet like no one else and made you feel things you’ve never felt for anyone before.

It was dangerous whatever it was happening between you two. You knew it but, does it made you stop? No.

The way you shameless let out the loudest moan when he brought that cute little pink magic wand to your clit, made you slap your hand on your mouth and your legs to shut immediately.

His hardness was poking on your lower back, he was in his boxer so it was easy to feel it through the thin layer of clothing. He remove the vibrator and in an instant, you shifted onto his lap properly, this time your pussy directly on his cock which made him gasped and groaned. The sounds he made was enough to grew the ache in between your legs, it made you needier for any kind of touch he could gave you.

Your slickness dripped on his clothed cock from your bare pussy as you grind on it. He shut his eyes from the feeling of it, you felt him twitching.

“Fuck. Wait– baby, you planning on making me cum in my pants?” He chuckled breathily, pupils dilated with sheer lust as he said, “Let me take off my boxers.”

You shifted of his lap before he took it off. The idea of making him cum in his pants was arousing, you smiled as said while turning around to look at him, “Not a bad idea, though.”

You received a smack on your ass again along with the sound of his sweet chuckle. “Shut up and ride me, yeah?”

That considered yet dominating tone of his voice made your heart swell and your pussy clenched. The fact that he was making sure to made you feel comfortable, if you wanted the same thing or not even though it was the thing he wanted was appreciating. You knew, if you told him no and stopped, he wouldn’t even question you.

You smiled in return and kissed him, cupping his face while leaning on his shoulder, your back pressed against his chest and his cock brushed against your entrance, this time bare, direct skin to skin. It was enough to made you go crazy.

He squeezed your boobs and aligned his member at your entrance. Moaning into his mouth, you glided down on his length and took him in one-go.

He moaned along with you. Before you could start moving, he brought the vibrator to your clit and set it at the lowest mode but that was enough stimulation for you to roll your hips.

Jungkook held your waist, guided you on his cock while keeping the vibrator on your clit steadily.

“Yeah baby, ride it like that. Make yourself come on my cock.” He said through gritted teeth, groaning under his breath every time you thrust back on him. His other hand pressed lightly on your lower belly where his bulge can be seen while he increased the speed of the vibrator a bit higher. Your thighs shakes from the overstimulation, tears formed in your eyes and your moans were uncontrollable.

“Fuck fuck, gonn– c-come,” You cried out, tears now freely running down your flushed cheeks, the squelching sound of skin slapping against each other filled the room.

“Shit, hold it for me.” You thrusts were becoming erratic, upon knowing that Jungkook immediately handed over the vibrator to you and held you by your waist, started thrusting back at you.

He lay down on the mattress, seeing how his cock disappeared inside you and reappeared made him twitch violently, “Yes baby, that’s it. You feels so fucking good,” He groaned.

His praises made you clenched around him, moaning from the pure pleasure, you throw your head back. Even though, the vibrator was making you overstimulate, you couldn’t brought yourself to remove it. Nails digging on his hand, leaving marks for him to remember just like the bruises which will be prominent on your waist later, because of the dead grip of his.

He was rougher than before, slamming into you without a care in the world, “Fuck, I can see everything from here, how your pussy is swallowing my cock, baby. S-shit –,” He didn’t missed a chance to hit that perfect spot inside of you, abusing it to the point that your walls spasm and you squirt all over his cock and the bed sheet beneath you.

Tears stream down your cheeks from the intense pleasure in your core, your whole body shakes, you immediately removed the toy from you but Jungkook never stopped, constantly slammed back at you.

“Fuck, J-jungkook,” More spurs of liquids gushes out of you every time his cock came out of you. You couldn’t handle the pleasure as your body gave out and you leaned back on his chest. He still continued while holding onto you.

“Oh fuck–,” Jungkook moaned, never stopping his movements. The way you squirt, the hot liquid coated his cock, how your drenched pussy felt so good was overwhelming for him. You made him overwhelmed.

“I-I’m coming –,” You shrieked, pussy gripping his cock almost painfully. Jungkook couldn’t think straight as your warm walls engulf his member completely.

“Come on, come for me, baby.” Your vision got blurry, the harsh thrusts and the overstimulation was too much for you. You moans choked out from your throat, you almost let out a scream but restrained yourself for the sake of his neighbors.

With a last thrust, he finally came. His eyes rolled back as he dick restlessly twitches inside of you before he spiller his seeds inside the condom.

He slides out of you and your come oozed out of you, your body fall on top of him and he held you close to his chest. You could heard the soft beating of his heart, his slightly harsh breaths as he tried to recover from the intense session you two just shared.

You both lay down there in silent, hearing each other breaths and just…held onto each other like that in an intimate way.

Jungkook shifted in his place as he held onto you gently, carefully, not wanting to hurt you by any means as he places you beside him.

Your eyes were still closed when he cupped your face in his hands, when you finally looked at him you saw him staring back at you with his usual wide doe eyes. He didn’t said anything at first, just stared at you with something in his eyes you couldn’t decipher before he spoke, “Are you okay?”

His voice was as soft as his touches, there was slight hint of concern in his tone. This little things was the reason behind your growing feeling for him.

How caring and considerate he was with you, how he treated you as if he wanted you. Yes, he does wanted you but not in the way you wanted him. He was the first one to comfort you, he was always there for you. As a friends, he was perfect. And, as a boyfriend, he would be definitely better than your ex.

You smiled at him, “Yes, I’m absolutely okay.” You said that rather enthusiastically, making him chuckled in the process. He gave you a kiss on your forehead before despairing into his bathroom.

You thought, how it might be if you could tell him about the things you felt for him. It all started after he got cheated on by his ex.

He was devastated after that. You still remember the day when he cried in front of you. Jungkook was someone who wasn’t very good at expressing his emotions through words nor liked crying in front of others. So, when he did, you could imagine how hurt he might had been at that moment.

Still, he gave her some time and came with an agreement that they both just needed space to figure out what they both wanted. Bullshit.

You never liked that idea. She literally cheated on him, even though she was kissing another girl on the lips, it still considered as cheating. Still, you supported Jungkook, because that’s what friends do.

Your chain of thoughts broke as Jungkook entered his room with a wet towel in his hand and a glass of water. You took it out of his hand and gulp down the water but he didn’t gave you the towel. He always does that, wiping your essence off of you every time. You stopped with your futile attempts of you can do that yourself long ago.

“Wait, let me take a shower.” You didn’t said anything, it was strange. Aftercare was important for him, you knew it. Usually, you two shower together or cuddled up on the bed, but, this time, he went alone. You found that odd before your focus shifted towards his phone.

The sound of a notification made your face turned towards the litted up screen. You scooted over it and the thing you saw made your blood boiled for unknown reasons.

You saw a notification from his ex-girlfriend. They weren’t in the talking situation so, why he got notifications from her. The suspicion and bitterness got the best of you and you quickly dressed to leave his apartment.

Just as you were about to head outside, he barged out of the bathroom, halting his movements for a second by your form standing in front of his door to leave, the automatic pout came onto his face out of confusion, he spoke, “Where are you going? Wait– why are you leaving?”

His brows pinched together a frown settled on his face, “Is everything okay?” There was seriousness in his voice. He tried to came closer but, he noticed the hesitation in your movements so he backed up, didn’t wanted to made you uncomfortable.

“I – just have something’s to do.” You lied, voice came out in an whisper as if you didn’t had any strength left in your body. Nothing wrong there, fucking Jungkook always made your body exhausted afterwards, but, your heart always felt content. Not this time.

Even if he sensed your lie, he didn’t question you. “Then, let me drop you there at least,” He went to grab his keys before you stopped him in the track.

“Do your still talk with Sana?” There was a few seconds of silence, not a sound of footsteps or even breathing. Utter silent. You heart beats increased with every second, holding onto your handbag, you waited for his reply.

“No… but, she followed me on Instagram yesterday.” He told you the truth, never wanted to lie to you. He just didn’t knew why he made this thing a secret. Not a secret, he just didn’t priorities it enough to discussed this with you.

“And?”

“And, I followed her back, then she sent a massage.” He said that so casually as if he was talking about a random person. It wasn’t any random person.

You turned around and looked at him. You didn’t understood why you felt a stinging pain in your heart when you saw him standing there oblivious. There was a slight worriedness in his eyes.

“Jungkook…I don’t know what you were thinking but…why didn’t you tell me? Also, why are you talking to your ex?” Okay, not so smart question. You did admitted that. That’s his life, he could talk to anyone he wants, so asking him why he did that was stupid.

Still, he tried to explain, “I– sorry, I should’ve said this before, but I thought it wasn’t much important to discuss about,”

“Wasn’t much important to discuss with me, right?”

“What? No! ____, It’s not what you’re thinking –,”

“Then, what is it? Jungkook, she cheated on you –,” Those words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. You wished you didn’t said that because the way his eyes went wide and glossy, made your heart hurt.

“Lets not come to an conclusion yet, she said she need some time and I gave her that. Also, she did that after…her last encounter with us.” This time, you gasped. He was talking about the threesome you guys had a month ago before their break up.

It was a casual thing between the three of you, all of you gave your own concerns, all three of you wanted that. Now, why he brought that topic into this argument. The conclusion was far more worse. You brain immediately responded with he thinks she cheated on him because of me.

His ex wanted to explore her sexuality after her encounter with you during the threesome. It all came clear in your mind.

“Are you implying that…she cheated on you because of me?” Your voice slightly cracked at the end of the sentence and you cringed. Not wanting to stay even a second there, you barged out of his room without looking back.

“No no, ____ , listen. I never blamed you– fuck! I could never do that, baby.” He grabbed you arm, tried to calm you down. “Please, don’t misunderstood me.”

His voice held so much vulnerability, panic rushed over his eyes. You couldn’t brought yourself to look at him, because if you did, you would mold back into his arms instantly and you couldn’t let that happen.

He kept on pleading to you, standing at the doorway and you. You huffed at his stubbornness, “Jungkook, please I have to go, now. We can talk about this later.” You again lied.

Jungkook wouldn’t wanted to disrespect your decision or invade your personal space, he backed away from the door. He couldn't understand outburst but he did knew that you never liked it when someone hide something from you. he knew, he made you upset which he never wanted.

You could see his glistening eyes staring right at you, his brows furrowed as he kept on looking at you until you departed from his apartment.

Your tears, unrestrained, finally flowed freely, unable to be held back any longer.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Songs That Sound Like Sea-Foam (III)

AU MASTERLIST || FINAL CHAPTER

PAIRING: Fisherman!John Price x F!Mermaid!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 7.1k

WARNINGS: Angst, blood, death, violence, swords & firearms, abductions, hurt/comfort, torture references, nakedness, needles, gore, etc.

A/N: Alright, and that's a wrap on this mini-series. Biker/mechanic!Ghost is next on the list.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You hit the water and immediately push back to the surface, ignoring the burning of your open wounds. 

“John!” Your high and panicked call can’t be heard above the yells to arms and the distressed wails. “What are you doing?!” Bodies get chucked from the side of the ship and all you can do is watch as they meet the water around you—skin cut open and eyes dead. 

While the sea was numbing your pains, your heart was hurting enough for all of them; hands flailing to try and help keep you above the waves. But everything was so dark, only the light far above giving you a sliver of perception. 

“John!” You scream again, eyes snapping back and forth along the ship. Your arms burned with heat.

“Go!” The words ring out and make you cringe, graveled and ragged—an order. But how could you? Vile grunts and skin meeting skin sound out, no more shirking blade edges or the boom of pistols. Fists meeting ribs, bared teeth.

“The Mermaid was wearing tags! He’s part of the King’s forces!” The leader. “If we can’t have the beast, we’ll have the coin from a turncoat!”

“Deserter!”

“Traitor!” 

“Tie him to the post!”

Your ears twitch and pull at the horrible words, lungs near hyperventilating and black waves going red. If you weren’t able to ingest water, the way your head was slowly sinking would have left you sputtering and choking. 

What will they do to him? Why can’t I help? It was the only part in your life where you regret having a tail, because now you can’t save John in the same way he saved you. Your eyes lock helplessly to the upper deck, far, far above. You can’t drag yourself up or even find the energy to stay above water. 

Your strength was waning quickly—you needed to be tended to; healed. But it felt worse than a betrayal to see not even a glimpse of John’s brown hair or his large arms. To not feel the hold he kept on you. You wanted his lips and his flesh to be pressed into you, to venerate your image as he always did. 

A Hierei that worships at the shrine that is you.

“Curse you,” you say aloud to the men above. The ones that tie your raging love to a post; you hear his low growls and biting expletives like blades in their own fashioned way, the sea garbling your words. “Curse your greed and your violence!” 

But no one listens, and with a heavy and weighed heart, you have to let your dead muscles rest as they give out completely against your will. Sunking under the battling waves, you feel like dead weight; no different than the various bodies around you that John had dispatched. 

You felt useless. 

Above you was John, being tied up and taken—taken to a King that wants your species dead. You don’t want to leave, but the current is snatching you away like seaweed, limp and broken. Whatever John had done to your wounds, the fabric of his shirt was holding fast to your shredded flesh, but it didn’t stop the agony or the inner conflict. 

He was right above you…why aren’t you strong enough to help?

Your eyes flutter, hair and arms floating. 

Everything grows dark, but John never once leaves your mind. Perhaps the Fisherman was worshiping you, but you did the same unto him. 

The eyepatched leader’s words loop in your brain, paired with storm-blue eyes. Gentle praises.

 “...I think he loves the beast!” 

Your body sinks with the rest.

—

The sand under you is coarse and dry as your eyes barely open, chest rising and falling but shakily, stuttering in its course. Small noises groan in the back of your throat, fingers like stones beside your face. 

Everything hurts, but something has woken you up. Noises. Muttered speaking.

“Now why would she have these?” There was a moment of clinking metal and a low huff. 

You groan louder and curl into yourself more, only to stop when the tears in your flesh pull. Your lungs inhale sharply.

“Oh, Christ,” the accented voice is smooth as it gets closer. “Easy, then, Ma’am. Shite, I was hoping you’d stay under a bit longer, I’m not bloody done yet.” 

Forcing your eyes open, you hiss at the burn of morning light, laying on your stomach with…your brows tighten…were you wearing a tunic? A hand meets the back of your shoulder and you cry out, jerking.

“Woah!” More force is applied to keep you down but it only makes you struggle more. “Please, I’m trying to stop the bleeding!” 

You stall at this revelation like a bird, panting. Muscles tight, you cautiously look over your shoulder to weakly stare at whoever this man was.

Brown eyes meet your own, and a dark-skinned complexion over an oval face. They blink at you with concern and hesitation, sparing only a nervous smirk and a chuckle. You stare widely, saying nothing. 

“I…I’m just trying to stop the bleeding. Whoever got you,” this man trails off, glancing down at your tail. “Well, they did some proper damage.”

“Who are you?” Your voice is damaged from all the screaming you’d done, cracking and frail. You stifle a cough and survey the land with frantic snaps of your orbs. This wasn’t your cove. 

Where were you? What had happened to the ship? To John? Your hand travels to your neck but lands on nothing. It’s like the world stops turning.

The necklace. 

“My name’s Kyle, Miss, but I’m just as well off being called Gaz—” Your hand snaps to his shoulder, wrenching him down in a violent slam to the sand; with a shove of your ailing body, you cross an arm over his chest to pin him. 

Brown eyes widen, and one hand easily raises in a placating manner. You don’t bother to look at the other, your head broken into bits of instances and images of horror.

“Where is it?” Your lips hiss out. You didn’t know you could make a sound like that. 

Kyle, dressed in a fine outfit of a Bookkeeper, furrowed his brows at you. He didn’t look off-put by your brashness, or by the fact that you were of the Merfolk. 

“I’m sorry, Ma’am…I’m not following. Where’s what, exactly?” There was a glinting at his throat, and you snatched at it with a glare and snarl of ‘thief’ on your tongue. 

A blade presses into your side and you freeze. Kyle stares up at you with a frown on his face, body tight. “I think you should let that go, Miss, yeah?” 

The metal discs are the same as John's, but they hold a different name entirely. 

“Kyle Garrick, Sergeant, 141st company under the King.”

“One Hundred and Forty-First?” You whisper in a hushed voice and the blade loosens from you. Mouth opening and closing, you forget for a moment what Kyle is. Your eyes go glossy with hope. “You know John?” 

Eyelids blink at you in astonishment and all at once the knife is sheathed at his hip once more. Gaz gapes, his slight stubble shifting on his face as he talks slowly. 

“Yes, I do…how do you know the Captain? No offense, but I didn’t peg him for the type to run off with…well…” he trails, chuckling. “Not run exactly, then, is it?” 

You glower and push back, flinching at your aches but waste no time in speaking frantically to the man as your tail flaps. If he was on the same ship as John was, they certainly knew each other well; Kyle had to assist you.

“Please, you need to help me,” The man’s face goes serious and he pushes himself up, “—there’s been a terrible event. John has been taken, don’t you understand?” Your hands grasp at his collar, forgetting to ask about the missing necklace in your mounting hysteria. “They took him. They’re bringing him back to the King and it’s all my fault!” 

You don’t know if it’s the pain or the fatigue, but your emotions spill from you in droves, silver tears falling like drips from a blacksmith's smelter to the beach of this foreign place. Your body feels unable to hold itself up—so much blood lost. 

Gaz gains a sheen of panic at your state, gripping your shoulders lightly above the given tunic. 

“Now, now, Ma’am, steady. You’ve lost a lot of blood, eh? We need to get you sorted.” But internally your words disturbed him. John had been taken? His Captain? And he had known a mermaid?

“I don’t need to be sorted,” you mock, shaking him, “I need my John back! And you’re going to help me.” 

Kyle gazes around awkwardly, clearing his throat and trying to comfort you as his upper half gets forced back and forth.  

“First,” he stops you with a firm squeeze on your shoulders, “we’re getting you stitched and wrapped, Ma’am. If what you’re telling me is real,” Gaz pauses, glancing at the sea lapping at your tail, “then I need to get in contact with the others.” 

Your body slightly sags, panting and shaking. While you should have asked who the others were, your adrenaline was too great to allow you to think above the fact that Kyle was going to help you. He had known John—that was enough for you to know he was a good person. 

“Easy,” the man mutters, face pulled in concern. There’s a moment of tense silence before Gaz shifts a hand to the pocket inside of his tweed frock coat, slipping to the side of his green notch vest. He blinks his brown eyes at you before he lightly takes John’s necklace from the depths of his clothes. Kyle presents them as your shoulders loosen with a small sliver of comfort. “I believe you were looking for this, yeah?” 

He spares a friendly, boyish, smile.

Your fingers brush his as you delicately take the metal up, fingertips weeping with torn flesh. Staring at them, you bring the item to your lips and kiss it gently after a moment of agony, a few more tears slipping down your cheeks. 

“Oh, John,” you whisper, “you fool, what have you done?” 

“I’ll be needing to move you, Ma’am,” Gaz clears his throat and looks back to the grass-coated road. The beach where you had washed up was near the bottom of a slight hill, and along with sand, there were a lot of pebbles. The wind was chilled. “I was just finishing up with a temporary binding when you woke. We can speak more when I get the larger wounds stitched.” 

You see his gaze fall down you once more. 

“I’d think there’s a lot to catch up on.” Shuffling John’s necklace over your head, you allow Kyle to take bandages from his Gladstone bag which he had brought down from the road with him. He says he found you on the beach unconscious not five minutes before you woke back up as he takes out John’s tunic strips before packing the wounds with fresh material. 

“You stopped?” You ask quietly, body shaking. “Why?” 

“Well, I left the same time that the Captain did,” he explains, looping fabric around your tail as you shudder and clench your teeth at the long cuts over your scales. Kyle spares you a glance before continuing. “Same reason too. The minute innocent beings were being hunted, everyone in the One Hundred and Forty-First deserted. They weren’t too happy with us, I’d imagine. I do what I can to help anyone, regardless of species.” 

Gaz pulls back and finishes up, brushing his hands on his folded legs and sighing. 

“We all separated and led our lives the best we could—got jobs, hid ourselves, the like.” While the story was fascinating, as John was rare to talk about the King or his service beyond a clenched jaw, you truly were suffering from blood loss.

Every moment it became harder to keep your upper-half vertical and your eyes open. Gaz’s words slurred in your eardrums as the sand under your hands got pushed back by pressure like a rock being dragged. Your head must have swayed, because the next moment you’re being lifted with a grunt and a steadying of feet.

“Can’t say I’ve ever carried a mermaid,” Kyle grumbles to himself, blinking down at your form as our head rests limply on his chest. “Certainly not one that knows Price of all people.”

You focus on your breathing as he ascends the hill, going slowly and holding your form tight so as not to drop you. While not John’s size by any means, the man was still strong in a more lean and lithe way where your Fisherman’s was upfront and bare with it. 

You’re carried down the trodden path to a lone house on the upper hill above the water, small and quaint, it’s only a single square room. 

Truly this event speaks to your luck—how on earth had you found perhaps one of the only men on the planet that knew John and sympathized with magical creatures?

Kyle sets you back on his bed softly, pillows pressed into indents of your head and cheek. 

“Alright then,” he sighs, “let's get this figured out, yeah?” 

You’re offered food and water, but all you care about is sleep. Your tail hangs off the end of the bed and your fins ache with torn skin. Without even looking at your scales, you know they’re damaged immensely. Most will be left with great scars. 

Merfolk could be called vain in their lifetime, and the sentiment wasn’t entirely untrue. You were beings of elegance and beauty—ethereal lustfulness hardwired into your DNA. Image was important to you, and this loss was great. 

But the loss of John hurt more than any torture someone could inflict on you; any wounds. You needed him back. 

As Gaz prompted you to tell your story, which you did with failing consciousness, your hand traveled to your necklace to grasp it tightly. Lips quivering. When the first push of the man’s needle entered your hard flesh, you never even felt it.

—

You awoke for the second time, once more, to the sound of speaking. 

“Well, he’s sure gotten up to it while we’ve been away! Fuckin’ bastard.” This accent didn’t belong to Gaz, and thus your eyelids pushed back with slight unease. Had John’s Sergeant sold you out? With a struggle, you blink back to reality only to find a pair of bright blue eyes stuck on you. 

For a moment you startle, those shades so similar to John’s that for a moment you had forgotten what had transpired. Then the pain in your tail strikes up and you balk back sharply. 

“Soap!” Gaz hisses, grabbing the large and built man away from the bed. “Get the hell away from her, would you? Christ, she’s been through enough without having to look at that face when she wakes up, Mate.” 

“What in the hell does that mean?” Soap, as he’d been introduced, was the epitome of a blacksmith—ash still on his square jaw and his large black apron tied at a stiff waist. His arms were as bulky as your head and while he was shorter than Gaz he made up for it in sheer muscle. 

Blue eyes darken with annoyance before they swivel back to you, but they lighten just the same when they spot your fear-spiked expression. 

“Sorry about that, Little Lady. Just curious, is all.” You swallow the saliva in your throat and turn to look at Gaz in question. “Not every day somethin’ like this happens.”

“Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish,” the man offers, rubbing at his neck apologetically. “Served with John and I. You can trust him.” 

You blink and turn back to Johnny, and, sure enough, around his neck were the common silver discs that Gaz and John wore over the tunic and apron. 

“A…” You try to remember what your Fisherman had told you about human customs. With a frown, you carefully extend a hand and hold it aloft while your tail rests and your other limb keeps you up. “A pleasure, Johnny.” 

A wide grin meets your eyes and a hand is clapped into your own; shaking it firmly as yours remains limp. 

“Ah, please, the pleasure’s all mine.” When his grip leaves you look down at the various stitches and thick wrappings around your body before thinning your lips and gazing back at Gaz. He stares and tilts his head when you lock eyes with him. 

“Thank you, Garrick. I…I owe you a large debt.” He’s already shaking his chin at you.

“Negative, Ma’am,” Kyle denies. “The only thing we need to be focusing on is getting the Captain back. Simon should be along by the evening.” 

“Sure the man’ll show?” Johnny raises a brow and stands to his full height, going over to the small table in the middle of the room and sitting down with a huff. He picks up a flagon and takes a sip of ale. “He’s far off cuttin’ stone.” 

“I sent a rider out and said it was urgent. He should be getting it about now, yeah?” 

“Well, hell, I’d sure hope so else we’re out of our favorite Ghost. Can’t have that.” You watch and stare at the ease these two converse with the other, years seem to bleed from their mouths like waves in water. They had it all figured out, and noticeably, they weren’t at all panicked. 

“How are the both of you so calm?” You can’t help but ask. Brown and blue turn to furrow their brows at you.

“They took the bloody Captain. Only person worse than that to steal away would be Simon.” A chuckle. “I’m more worried about the bastards themselves than him.” And it was left at that. 

At times throughout the day, Gaz would bring you bread to nibble on to help settle your stomach, water, and ale whenever you needed it. When the dryness of the air and the fireplace got too warm for you, Johnny would be the one to carry you down the hill to the water where you’d soak your wounds in the surf. In those moments you could finally take in the pure silence under the waves and let your anguish take hold.

But you always had to break the surface at some point, shimmy into the dry tunic that Soap offers with respectfully averted eyes, and let him carry you back with his bulky arms. 

As it always did, the water let your wounds heal far faster than a man’s, though the aches were still intense. 

John’s eyes would not leave you. His crown of stars or the lantern light on his face—the way he whisked you away from danger and put himself dead center into it. Keeping you to his large chest as he held aloft a sword in your honor.

 “...I think he loves the beast!” 

Oh, and you loved right back and you hadn’t told him. 

It’s hours upon hours later when the door is shoved open as you sit up in the bed; tail limp and dim on the floor below. You look up in shock at the man whose frame nearly takes up the entire doorway, shoulders wide and thighs vast under work pants and a large tunic, cowl over his head and clasped with a brooch at his left pec. Under shined a deep brown gaze and pale brows, but his entire lower face was covered by cloth. 

Intimidating, his visible expression was entirely blank. You wondered if perhaps a vampire had walked into this place without proper entry, but then you remembered the man Johnny and Gaz mentioned. 

Simon. Ghost. 

Well, he certainly fits the part, stone dust on his clothes and large boots stacked with scrapes. A Stonemason.

“There’s the man!” Johnny exclaims, raising his hand which has another cup of ale in it as he’d downed the other some time ago. 

“Where’s Price?” Deep was Simon’s voice, and he spares you a glance but nothing more. Gaze falling down your tail with hidden flickers of intrigue and wafting back up to stop at John’s necklace. His brows pull in as he turns. 

“Gone—taken to the King,” Gaz explains from where he leans against the fireplace, face serious. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon grunts, walking in and closing the door behind him. “Where was he last?” It’s mildly amusing to you that he doesn’t seem bothered or even surprised by a mermaid in Gaz’s home. 

“Just off Harpies Nest,” Johnny pipes in, itching at shaved sides of his scalp. “Where the old beasts used to fly from.” 

“I’m guessing she’s the reason for that, then?” Everyone was anxious to act, even you. These men were close, and while circumstance had forced them away from one another the loyalties still lay. 

“Affirmative. Price’s been in good company, seems.” A stale glare is sent his way and he chuckles and puts up his hands. 

“Is there anything we can do?” You ask, looking at each in turn. Seeming to still hold that ingrained ranking that all men in the service do, Johnny and Gaz look to Simon. Brown eyes blink slowly, turning to look at you in a narrowed thought.

After a while, he speaks in a monotone.

“They’ll be bringing ‘em to the castle to stand trial. We’ve already lost a day’s time and there’ll be no ship that can sail as fast as we need it to.”

“By land?” Gaz wonders. Johnny’s shaking his head.

“How do you expect we get the Lady through that?” Eyes turn to your lack of legs. Body stiff, you huff and grit your teeth. If they thought you weren’t going along, that was foolish of them.

“I can swim to the docks,” you pause, “but you’ll have to tell me the way, for I do not know it.” 

John had talked about docks—places ships went to rest. You’re sure you can make it, even like this. You had to. 

Johnny stares before he chuckles twice, sharing a glance with the others and motioning to you. “I like ‘er.”

Gaz and Simon look at one another with a side-eye, before Kyle sighs and shakes his head. Simon hooks his thumbs into his pants and huffs out, “Sure you’re up for that?” 

“I’m helping John.” Pushing, you meet those brown eyes head-on and steel yourself. “I need him back.”

There’s no further fight, and Ghost takes everything you say at face value. “Fine.” 

And that was that.

—

The plan was so stupid you wondered if these men had gone brain-dead, but inside the castle dungeons, John had no way of knowing that. 

He frowned deeply as his pounding skull tipped back to connect with the cobblestone wall, blood dried over the right side of his face. A growl on his lips as the chains keep his hands high above him and hanging as his backside stays seated on the floor. His limbs had long since gone numb, circulation cut out in an uncomfortable state of numbness. 

But inside of him, there was a sense of accomplishment despite everything. He’d gotten you away from dirty hands—away from hooks. Away from danger. 

John could die happy with that.

On the ship, before he’d been brought to the castle, the crew had tied him to the mainsail mast with a ragged rope that had skinned his flesh in just minutes of the rocking waves. They’d taken his vessel as well, and all of his belongings were confiscated in the docks. From there it had been amused jabs at his stomach with fists and knife-throwing practice. 

John had cuts along the sides of his arms and the meat of his thighs—clothes shredded and torn from blades. His forehead had a long gash from the scalp to the temple, dried now but pulling with red aggression. 

The fisherman hums under his breath and thinks only of you. 

It was a fact that you had brought music into his life; a melody of waves and scales that could not be denied. Songs that sounded like sea-foam and a lapping of a tail across the water. When he’d seen you that day from behind the black rocks, John had lost a piece of himself to your wide eyes and tilted head. That spark of connection. 

He had never been so thankful for choosing a new place to cast his nets, because he’d unwittingly caught the greatest creature he ever could have—one people have been running after for years. 

You. 

John’s lips pull in a tiny smile, eyes going soft. Above him his chains rattle and his arms flinch, wounds burning, but for the life of him, he can’t stop smiling. Wherever you were, he hoped you were safe and that he gave you the best chance of survival. He hoped you could forgive him.

Footsteps echo off the ground, and John looks over to the iron bars of his cell stiffly, mask re-falling to his stern face like a curtain. Two guards in armor clink down the hallway, expressions hidden by hoods and cloth. One produces a rusted key from his belt and slips it into the door, the metal rattling as it gets forced back and forth until the telltale click signifies the opening of the lock. 

“Finally letting me out, then?” John speaks dryly, voice holding a rasp. 

No one answers, and soon John’s chains are dropped and his arms seized. Yanked up, the fisherman grunts in pain as his legs drag behind him across the cobble—being taken somewhere. Probably, if John had to guess, the noose. 

Desertion isn’t something you can get out of shy of a life sentence; to hell or to a cell was entirely up to the King. And the King wasn’t entirely fond of John and his One Hundred and Forty-First. 

John was forced out into the open courtyard, a dichotomy of brightly flowering bushes and expensive finery to the platform placed in the very middle. The brunette's lips thinned at the sight of the large and imposing body made of wood and rope belonging to the gallows, a grim reaper of earthly material. There would be no great fight from him, no roar of a death rattle, just a kicking of his feet and tight wheezes, but no more. 

He knows his final thoughts will be of you—what you’re doing right now, how you’ll live the rest of your life. John hopes you don’t cry for him. 

The two guards shove him forward, and already a crowd has formed below the viewing platform for the monarch himself, who sits in all of his finery. Wyvern leather for his gloves, unicorn horn for a scepter, and…John’s eyes go tight, scales that make up a crown of opal and gold. Vibrant scales. 

Unmistakingly Merfolk, anyone who’s met one of the species would know it. It has the same shine as the one John holds in the pouch on his belt; the fisherman clings to the fact that, against all of it, you were still with him in even a small sense. You’d be with him. 

So John grits his teeth and glares up to the dias defiantly as the guards hold him under the noose, shoving his head to the side to grab the rope. He feels no fear.

“Fuckin’ watch it, Muppet,” the fisherman hisses, snapping his head to the side to stare into the glinting brown eyes from under the hood. He pauses, brows furrowing. “What…?” 

As his hands are forced behind him, they’re not tied as the excited murmuring from the crowd begins, the King’s forward-leaning attention. 

They’re given a knife. 

John hides his surprise and looks over to the other guard as he fits the noose over his neck. Amused blue, and around his neck the glint of silver discs. 

“Oh, bloody hell, you’re takin’ the piss,” the former Captain growls lowly. He knows those damned eyes, just as he knows his former Lieutenant’s. 

MacTavish and Simon. 

“Chin up, Captain,” Johnny jokes under his breath hidden by cloth. “Show’s about to start. Let’s give ‘em a proper scare, yeah.” 

Blue eye glare, but they lack the venom. A barred-teeth smile grows. How had this happened? Johnny steps back and goes to his side, the wood under their feet creaking. The crowd falls silent, looking to the King for the verdict. 

The King’s fingers raise and John memorizes his face in that instant…because it’s only then that he sees Gaz.

Gaz, who was on the upper terrace of the courtyard’s walls, holding a musket with the stock trained to his cheek; body still and ready—tutored to a perfectly motionless trance. There aren’t any guards to be seen near him. It’s a moment of pure silence, a ruling energy. The crowd is waiting for the King to verbalize an answer that he’s never able to give. 

As the monarch’s lips open there is an eardrum-bursting boom that shatters the call for John’s doom and instead spells his own in his very castle from one of his former men. A poetic ending, John would say, but he’s unable to verbalize it as he’s suddenly falling through the gallows hatch as Simon reems on the handle. 

“Knife!” It’s all the Ghost yells in warning.

With a rush of air, there’s a split second to cut the rope before it breaks his neck, and with a snapping motion, John perfects it in an instant—instinct as sharp as any blade that could be put into his hand. He hits the ground with a loud grunt of pain and struggles to sit up until Johnny and Simon jerk at him from where they’d jumped down as well. Not a second too soon, as lead balls from rival guns were already hitting the gallows. 

Not all the guards were dead, then, and apparently, the three had known that would be a possibility.

John would have to scold them later. 

“What in the hell is going on?!” The fisherman barks, but he’s being dragged before he shoves their hands off of him and follows to where they beeline into the fleeing crowd.

“What?” Johnny belts out laughter. “No ‘thank you?’ We just saved your neck!”

“Left!” Simon shouts, and although John’s body can’t take much more, they all dart into the cover of the castle walkways. “Make for the docks—the Sergeant’s meeting us there.”

“Bloody fucking Christ!” John growls but quickly goes onto the most important topic. “She’s behind this, isn’t she?” Johnny’s smirk only confirms it.

“Proper girl you’ve got there, Gaz found her on the shore. Else we’d never have heard about it all before you were dead and gone.” John blinks at him. “Getting reckless without us, now?”

The former Captain ignores the remark. “Where is she?” 

“Oi!” Ghost hisses, looking over his shoulder as the three hurry on as shouting rings from behind them. “Get your head in the game. Focus on not getting shot, yeah?” 

Brown meets blue. 

“You’ll see ‘er soon.” Simon ends, dead eyes shifting to a form that rampages through the hallway behind them. “Behind!” He calls loudly, and John ducks just as a knife is thrown with pinpoint accuracy. A sound of a body hitting the floor echoes over the distant screaming and calls of alarm. 

The King is dead. 

All of the men reach their destination by sheer luck and the knowledge of how to use a blade, cobblestone leading to open streets and back alleys. Finally, the wide stretch of sea was visible, and a shadow slinked out of a corner quickly. 

“Hell,” Gaz blinks at them, “do you think I’ll ever be let back into the castle?” 

Johnny pants a laugh. “You’ll be lucky to get into the province, ya sneaky Bastard. Fine fuckin’ shot.” 

Simon looks at them. “Gaz, Johnny, get to it.” 

They’re by the open water of the dock, long wooden walkways stretching out with ships shifting in the waves. John wonders if his boat is here in the back of his mind, but his eyes are already combing the waves greedily in search of you. 

Were you here? Oh, he hoped you weren’t. You’d be placing yourself in the middle of a very real and present danger. 

“Get to what?” John questions, looking at each man in turn. “What ‘ave you planned, eh? Seems I’ve missed the meeting where we decide to assassinate the bloody monarch in broad daylight.” 

Gaz places a hand on his shoulder as he shimmies past. “Best to leave the heavy lifting to the ones who can stand fully, Captain.”

“Aye,” Johnny confirms. “You’ll want to be here more than anywhere, bet ya.” 

Simon shares a look with the blacksmith and grabs John by one shoulder, leading him to the water as Johnny takes the other. The brunette blinks quickly in confusion and grunts an expletive. 

“Get your hands off of me you pair of—!”

“Have fun!” Johnny and Simon both shove him into the water with a final push and dart off like wisps. 

Water rushes into his ears, covering his head and soaking his clothes before it drags him under. John’s arms flailed to propel him back to the surface. A jolt later, his head is breaching the water with a venomous glare and a barked order on his lips to a vacant audience. The boys had already sprinted off to who knows where.

“Son of a…” John trials, weak legs kicking to keep him afloat. Something brushes his thigh as water drips from his nose, cleaning away the blood with a reddish tint to the liquid.

The fisherman startles, head snapping down just as your hands grasp at his abdomen, sliding up as you press your lips deeply into his in one swift motion. He gasps, grip instinctually moving to hold onto the small of your back. 

You press into him tightly, pushing every emotion into the locking of your mouths with desperation and longing. Sighing deeply into the kiss, John melts into you as your tail brushes his legs, torn fins visible and shimmering stitches pulling at flesh. Scales glint somewhat brighter under the waves, water dripping along your shoulders and wetting your hair. 

John brings you closer when he realizes it’s your form around him, eyes fluttering closed and fingers weaving behind the base of your skull. It’s as if the world stills for that quick and reverent second as if everything is right. The both of you break the kiss with soft eyes, and after a moment of staring your chest releases a chuckle; hands coming up to capture your fisherman’s cheeks, weaving through those beard hairs once more.

The brunette stares at you and lays his forehead into yours, not knowing what to say. A smile plays on his lips.

“...It seems my fisherman had more of a reckless side than I anticipated,” you speak for him, whispering into the air. Your eyes flicker over the cuts and bruises visible on his pale flesh and a flash of fear alights in your expression. “Oh, John…What have they done to you?”

“Just scratches,” the man reassures delicately. “It’s alright, Love. I’ll live.” 

But you both know this conversation can’t happen here. With a few more pecks of kisses to his lips, you ask in an ethereal voice, “Do you trust me?”

Your hand is locked to his wrist, pulling him along the waters as your head tilts at him and tail sliding along his flesh. 

John wastes no time. “Of course.” 

Lips flicker to a small, loving, grin and then you drag him under the water. 

—

“Do they hurt?” He asks you carefully, running a calloused hand along the tears in your fins you know will never heal fully. You sit on the rocks below Gaz’s home, the water still dripping off of both of your bodies. 

Out farther in the water the three other men are sailing back in John’s fishing boat, a few minutes out. You blink down at him and move a hand to shift his jaw upward to you, humming.

“Not when you touch them like that,” confessing, you keep close to him, held tightly under the crook of his arm and breathing in that scent of rope and wood oil. You practically vibrate with comfort, all of your worries able to be put aside at last. 

John looks down at you and chuckles, putting a deep kiss on your scalp and taking a deep inhale. 

“Cheeky,” he teases. You smile.

“And yours?” Your voice speaks out in question as the water brushes your tail. 

The man peels back to look down at you slowly. “Already better…I owe you, Sweetheart.” 

Huffing, you shake your head, “You owe me nothing. The only reason you were there was because of me.” 

John’s brows furrow, taking your chin in his fingers and tilting your head back to him. He stares into your eyes for a long while until your face starts to heat with emotion, blinking up at him innocently. His blues dart over the healing cuts and marks with hidden emotion.

“I’d do it again,” John whispers. “A million times over, you hear? I’d be a bloody fool not to.” 

He kisses you as you both wait in the setting twilight for the others, bloody and beaten—more scar tissue than anything else—but still your John. 

“Thank you,” he mutters into your lips, and then again when he nips at your flesh. The man plays with his necklace at your collarbone as he traces patterns in your scales and smirks when you shiver. 

He wonders how he got so lucky when the others anchor the boat near the shore, hopping off and wading the rest of the way to the beach. John kisses your forehead and says he’d be right back. 

You watch him with glinting eyes as he walks over to his men, taking each in a heartfelt handshake and conversing honestly. Your eyes blink at the care they display for one another and raise a hand when they peel off, back up to Gaz’s home to rest. 

They reciprocate and disappear atop the hill. 

What’s he doing? You ask as you watch John climb aboard his vessel and rummage around his fishing barrels, opening some and tossing the tops to the deck. Hands shifting along the rocks, you can’t hide the amusement or affection in your eyes at the sight of his ramping annoyance. What was he looking for? 

Your fingers go up to play with his necklace and watch. 

You can’t say you feel much heartache at the loss of your cove—even with the king dead, you were still hunted for your scales—though you had grown to see it in a new light. The place was only a home when John was there, and you knew wherever you went as long as he was there it would be alright. 

The both of you wouldn’t let anything happen to one another. 

John comes back carrying something tucked in cloth, a small parcel held in one hand and longer than it is wide. Your interest is immediately piqued, curiosity straining your eyes. 

He holds it out to you with a mischievous glint and a smirk. 

“Go on,” John motions. Blinking at him, your brows furrow as you carefully take the item from his hands, settling it in your lap before you shift the cloth away. 

Your fingers go to cover your mouth, small gasp entering the air. 

It was a golden box, engraved with movements that resemble lace and waves—shimmering in the low light. 

“John,” you stutter, “what is…?”’

“Open it,” the man insists, kneeling down in front of you as if his muscles didn’t ache. “It’s the reason I was late that day.” John grunts, rubbing at the bottom of his beard and watching intently; crinkles beside his eyes. 

You stare for a moment with burning tear ducts before you grasp ahold of the lid and open it after running a digit over the make. 

Inside sits blue velvet and, strangely, your own scales, but atop that…the blinding gold of a pair of twin cuff bracelets—stones the same shade as your tail. It was perhaps the most elegant piece of jewelry you had ever seen. 

For a solid minute you’re rendered speechless, mouth opening and closing as your tail hangs limp in the low tide. Chucking, John takes the pieces out and your ears twitch to the sound of your scales clacking together like glass. 

“Why would you…” You can’t make sense of it.

John slips them over your wrists and you gape in wonder. They fit just perfectly. 

You look up into your Fisherman’s face and feel tears drip down your chin. A hard hand comes to wipe them away as you laugh through a sniffle. 

“Do you like them, then, Love?” He asks lowly, beard pulled back in a smile. 

“Yes,” you say immediately, giggling. “How could I not? John, they’re lovely. Far too beautiful for me.” 

The former Captain grunts and his brows pull in, frowning. “Now why would you say that?” He brings your hands to his lips and kisses your knuckles. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. Can’t make me change my mind on that, eh?” 

Your eyes bore into him, lips parted. After a moment your face feels like it’s on fire and you cover your cheeks. 

John laughs loudly, grabbing your arms and lightly squeezing the flesh before taking your grip back down to your lap. You smile so widely you’re afraid your face might crack open.

“No need to hide,” he hums. “Let me see that face.” 

“You’re good to me, John.” His face softens, wrinkles fall away, and his chest swells with pride. You kiss his lips and whisper, “I bare my soul to you.”

It wasn’t an ‘I love you’ but something far more precious. 

The man’s face deepens with devotion, gruff figure more than easily leaning over yours as you’re carefully laid back to the tiny pebbles behind you—a hand behind your head and at the swell of what would be a hip.

In the darkening night, the sun shines its dying light across the waves just like the extending fingers of John’s firm grip; dragging you into him as sea-currents would. Wrapping you both in kelp and a salty grave. His voice is the grating of sand, the slide of a rope across a wooden deck. 

“Then I’ll take care of it for as long as I live.”

Your fisherman damns you to a crypt of land and air, and you couldn’t worship it more. To live and to die beside him is to have existed just as you should have.

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[dandyslibrary]

🐚📺 & 🍓🍰 x 🌸 THOUGHTS

I love you for this because this is ACTUALLY my first thoughts ask, so congrats to you anon! <33

Now usually the thoughts things I see are just straightforward and allat yummy stuff, but sometimes I get jumpscared with nsfw or angst midway!

there’s gonna be angst AND fluff in here! So watch out !

POSSIBLY OOC , and also grammar errors + typos

To be honest I’ve never really thought that much about poly ships x reader, or how I feel about them. Though I really do love the idea of it. I don’t really have a favorite ‘toon x toon’ ship but if I had to choose it would definitely be Shelly x Vee x Astro ,,

NOW don’t come after me for that but it’s cute. ANYWAY STARTING THE THOUGHTS !

we’re gonna start off with Shellvision x Reader,,

now.. LOWKEY there cute. I love everything about my lesbians. Their dynamic is so adorable! Like the past x future thing

So hear me out on this.. Shelly being prehistoric inspired, vee being modern inspired, and then [Y/n] is old money or 80’s inspired? Like not old enough to be like Shelly, but not new to be like vee..

IS MY VISION VISIONING!?!? Urgh so sorry for my bad English, but anyway. Continuing my thoughts!!

Shelly would SOOO yap about her dinosaur facts to you. And you ARE going to listen to it. No like don’t say that you won’t I will make you listen to her beautiful angelic voice (I say as if she has a canon voice)

Personally I’m a big dinosaur nerd! I love Dino’s, AND when I found out she’s also a Dino enthusiast I WAS SO OVERJOYEDD

like how is she even the most forgotteeennn ☹️☹️..

NO CUZ SHE WOULD GO LIKE

”Oh! Did you know the Carnotaurus would swing their arms around when they encounter a potential mate? Their arms aren’t really that useless! I think they’re cute!” Shelly beamed showing you a photo of the dinosaur. You’d just nod and gasp everytime.

You enjoy listening to her. You enjoy seeing her happy.

but hear me out.. what would be more silly is that!!.. YOU ALSO SPEW FACTS AT HER TOO!! Like AAAA

“oh woah! that’s actually really cool! Oh and did you know that the skull of a dimorphodon is bulky, but it has large holes in its skull so its light enough to fly?” you stated.

You both would soo exchange Dino facts back and forth. (Me)

BUT WHAT ABOUT FOR OLD MONEY/80’s INSPO Y/N!?!!

Just two lovers talking about their times exchanging facts back and forth..

IM SORRH I HAVE NO IDEAS FOR TBIS ONE BUT I DO HAVE FOR VEE.. URGRHH vee.

Old money Y/n always joining on on Vee’s game shows just to fluster her and make her stumble upon her words..

She loves the praises! Really, she loves them A LOT.. but could you not tell her that she looks divine. On live.

Though she’s more into you praising her off camera, she’ll take your praises either way.

Oh and you can’t have Old Money x Modern ages Dynamic w/o the fighting! It just makes the trope soo much better ykyk

You guys just fighting over which era is better. But then you collectively agree on the prehistoric era.

but.. what’s even better is that both Shelly and vee would fight for your attention <33

It’s not like fighting punching kicking, just cute little fights that won’t cause any harm. In the end you all get to spend time with each other anyway!

Shelly would want to spend time with you because she wants to tell you more dinosaur facts. And then Vee wants you to go with her because she wants you to join her game show!

In the end it’s either you and Shelly join vee’s game show and it’s filled with dinosaur questions (scraps somehow wins because if lucky guesses). Or you and vee join Shelly as you cuddle up in a blanket as Shelly tells you guys facts about dinosaurs.

she’s silly. you’re all silly

also scenario idea!! gentleman/woman reader x shell vision..

YOU KEEO THE DOORS OPEN FOR THEM YOU CARRY THEIR STUFF YOU HELP THEM WITH EVERYTHING YOU KISS THE BACK OF THEIR PALM AAAA OIH MY GOOLLYYYY

Dino obsessed you x Shelly who’s also Dino obsessed x Vee who knows it all , she listens to you guys rant about dinosaurs either way because she loves you two.

next we got fruitcake !! SPROUT AND COSMO <33

Oh they’re actually so silly, they’re my babes my faves my SLAYS… though cosmo keeps on appearing in my diddly darn runs

BUT !! Of course we’re gonna go with the very basic baker reader x fruitcake

NO BECAUSE ITS REALLY CUTE

You sillies just hanging out in the kitchen baking with each other, not having a single care in the world of what’s what. Baking each other sweets <33

Yk that one song that goes,, ‘baking cookies for my love I stir and mix !!’

that’s you. that’s so you,

Yes you will be baking cookies for your love you stir and mix,, uh oh how long has this butter been out to sit..

ANYWAY

You guys would definitely bake each other things like daily, love language? Gift giving. Receiving and giving. DEFINITELY TOTALLY ACCURATE RAAAAGHHH

I feel like Cosmo would be so giddy after he receives your goodies. You would write notes and letters to him and he’d be over the moon.

He feels his face heat up whenever you kiss him… well anywhere — !!

Cosmo is actually so silly I love his freckles so much!

If your love language is more onto physical touch then I think it’s impossible to not pamper cosmo’s face with kisses. I would do that.

he’d be so flustered and happy after that! oh and if you don’t know how to bake. Him and sprout would definitely teach you how!

OH AND MY GOSH SPROUT <33

He’d be possessive (sorry guys I love possessive men)

He has a soft spot for you and cosmo it’s so sweet I love it sobbing,, he’d be so caring for the both of you like literally I love him

AND THEN HIM WITH GIFT GIVING READER !!

everytime you bake something and give it to him he feels flattered, but he’s worried that you would bake too many things then get tired.

He doesn’t like seeing you all tired, and it’s because of him.

But he is thankful for your gifts! Really he loves all of them. Oh and he also bakes stuff for you too and one time it kinda became like a competition to who bakes their lover the most sweets,, cosmo the referee

it was all fun in games anyway so it’s fine trust

I know sprout would be head over heels for physical affection y/n! He would love that you’d always have your arm around him or he would have his arm around you at all times.

No matter what you guys are always together, with cosmo OF COURSE, holding hands or touching shoulders..

NOTHING WILL SEPERSTE YOU GIYS

so far it’s been fluff but I wanna bring in some angst..

fruitcake is such a fluffy ship that I wanna poison so bad. I want to make the teeth rotting fluff turn into burning heart aching angst.

Manipulative Y/n x Fruitcake,, NOW NOW HEAR ME OUT OLEASE

by the wayyy.. I don’t support toxic relationships or manipulative behaviour. I enjoy dark writing but trust me this is not the ideal relationship.

anyways..

So obviously Cosmo is the most easiest to manipulate, you gaslight him so much and you keep on guilt tripping his poor ass.

He just feels so bad about everything and himself now because of you. And he doesn’t even blame you. He blames himself!

Whenever you see him with another toon you get to work immediately. You see him and you start working the crocodile tears. Saying how could he spend some time with another person but not you!

Cosmo rushes to comfort you of course! Hugging and giving you all he has.

Sprouts not as gullible as Cosmo though. He knows this relationship is toxic. He knows it’s bad. But he loves you.

He can change you.

He knows he can change you. You must love him too right? So you’d try for him as much as he and cosmo tries for you?

Sprout and Cosmo blinded by love while you want control. You don’t even love them. It’s sad really

AND WADABAM THOSE ARE MY THOUGHTS! I hope you like them pop anon <33 hehe

source 4 banner; @cafekitsune (also is it okay if I just put the credits in the tag?)

[transformers-spike]

Heyy I noticed that you put TFO among the stuff you might write for. Pls pls, if it's alright w/ u, Megatron x reader angry sex? Like, you might be a human he found after being banished and kept with him, and he trusts you bc u are nice, pose no real threat and ur good to blow off some steam :))))))))) but ofc he cares abt u, so it's more like angry sex + tender aftercare thank uuuuuuu i love my big metallic man with anger issues

My brain decided to do its own thing and for the sake of not writing a full length novel about it, I had to cut it short (and of course I made it sad because the boy is just dripping with angst - so I'm going to give him more.) So here:

He was advised to abandon you. Found in the deepest recesses of a Quintesson ship they’d shot down, you were still shaking from the crash. Not Cybertronian. Nor Quintessonian. A completely different being, with soft mesh, warm extremities and strands of something falling from your helm. An animal perhaps? Much like the strange quadrupeds traveling the surface? No, your optics move with intention, taking in your surroundings and wrinkling your optical ridge in clear contemplation. You are incredibly tiny, even next to a cogless miner. He wondered, briefly, when he first saw you, if you were another casualty of Sentinel’s tyranny, a forgotten being he sold off to the Quintessons without a second thought. He does not understand your language, nor can you speak his, but you observe the context and carefully come to associate certain words with objects, actions and designations. You cannot reproduce the subtle tones of Cybertronian with an organic vocalizer, much like the Quintessons – but you do not reject it. You learn to live despite your muteness. Many times he’s watched you draw figures in the sand with a twig the size of your arm, depicting what he could only assume to be a spaceship flying away from a distant planet as the Quintessons surround it. Sometimes you draw more of your kind, together in an embrace. You would stand over your creation, watching wistfully as the wind erased the fine traces of sand. A memory of your people. He wishes he could tell you about him and Orion, the pain of losing him, the crater in his chassis that will never mend – but guilt keeps him at bay. Soon enough, your provisions will run out. What they found on the Quintesson ship were rations made for your specific type of biology, with no guide to recreate them from, not even Shockwave could reverse-engineer the process. It’s simply too late. One orbital cycle, your life will come to an end, but he will give you the dignity of dying at his hands, painlessly. He is no stranger to starvation, but unlike him, you must refuel at various intervals during an orbital cycle, else he senses how you grow restless on his shoulder, fiddling with your servos, mesh growing pale and optics sluggish, growls emanating from your inner mechanism. You are not made for suffering Your life will come to an end, and you know this better than any other Decepticon; as though reading his thoughts behind the permanent scowl scratched into his face. Perhaps this is why he indulges in you even if he’s been advised against it. You’re eager despite your size, pressing yourself against his frame, ignoring your discomfort. He’s still getting used to his new body, including his strength for better or for worse. Yet you do not fault him when he leaves bruises. You kiss him and rub up against his spike, transfluid trickling down to his valve even before he comes undone. You squirm and laugh and pull him into a hug, helm to helm, a moment so perfect he’s ready to rip the cog from his chassis if it means staying like this forever, servos clenched into fists as he curses at Primus for the happiness he will shatter.

[unholyhelbig]

any chance for a kate x reader angst?

Title: Firecrest (Part 1/???)

Ship: Female!Reader x Kate Bishop

Wordcount: 4075

Summary: Kate Bishop and y/n have an unspoken agreement that revolves around being enemies with benefits. But when Kate's new mentor is someone Y/n is very familiar with, things become complicated.

Warnings: Mentions of sexual activities, fire, mentions of childhood abandonment, horrible grammar (I don't proofread lol), and things I'm sure I'm forgetting.

[A/n: how about enemies to lovers angst? How about Enemies to lovers with a little fake dating sprinkled in there? Let me know if this is something you all would like to see continued!]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Your mother had the in-depth beauty of a street dog. Her features were angular, yet soft and welcoming. People were often tempted to reach and run their fingers through her fur. But she tended to gently correct. She had the perfect demeanor for a government spy. However, you had always known her as a brilliant biochemist. Alluring in her brilliance.

The soft lights of the city shaded her face in the back of the taxi. The air had warmed significantly, but the low hum of the air conditioner made you pull your suit jacket close to your breast. The maroon had felt like too much at first. But the impressed nod from the woman next to you was enough to ebb away any doubts.

Your mother popped open her compact and swiped her finger against the corner of her mouth, taking away the smudged gloss that wasn’t noticeable in comparison to her presence. There was not much you feared in this world, but her wrath. Her annoyance. Her disappointment. None of which she flashed often.

“Remember what we talked about, y/n.”

“Of course. Would you like me to repeat it?”

She snapped the compact and leveled you with amusement. Her eyebrow lifted, the start of a smile at the corner of her lip. She couldn’t be serious. You made eye contact with the taxi driver in the mirror. He showed the same amusement that your mother did, yet somehow, hers stung more.

A groan escaped you, but bled into the mantra that was drilled into you for the past two weeks. “I will be the perfect lady who is grateful for the success of Lance and his political circuit.”

“And?”

“I will not start anything I can’t finish with Katherine Elizabeth Bishop, And I’m an adult perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“That wasn’t part of it.” Your mother corrected softly. Her hands were suddenly on you, smoothing down the lapel of your suit. “But It’ll do. Mostly, because we’re here.”

Eleanor Bishop often held her galas in the historic buildings of downtown Manhattan. There were small pamphlets lingering by the extensive hand-carved doors. They’d detail the rich family that had built it from the ground up. The architecture was always admittedly beautiful, and Eleanor had a subtle, expensive taste.

This venue was no different; stretching hallways and men in suits that mirrored yours in a tasteful black. Your mother never stepped ahead of you, instead holding a hand out and helping you from the back of the taxi. You’d left a generous tip, careful not to shove your hands into your pockets.

“This used to be a museum for fine arts and culture. The last I heard; the city was going to tear it down but made it a historical site. They use it for banquets now, I suppose.”

“Oh? You’ve read the informational booklet, then?”

She jabbed her elbow into your ribs and mocked a scowl. “No. I robbed it. How do you think we paid for your college tuition, kiddo?”

That was an exaggeration. You were 90% sure- maybe 75%. Bobbi Morse was a force to be reckoned with, and that was something you had learned from a young age. She’d let you sit on the counter of her lab while she worked, and you’d watch her with absolute awe.

Your mother had taught you, without fail, a variety of fighting skills. Starting with Aikido and ending with Taekwondo. She was a master at her craft, both in the field and in her lab and had worked with you since you could walk to train you in the same.

“Mm,” You hummed your response, “Which priceless painting did you take?”

“It was a vase, smart-ass.”

You pulled in a breath to retort before effectively being rendered silent by the performance hall. Eleanor Bishop had gone all out for the benefits that she backed. This was a vast space that was adorned in white sheer and glittering lights. A slideshow of the sponsored bird sanctuary flashed on the televisions scattered throughout the space.

There was a band on the stage, string instruments that you could feel in the center of your chest. The low notes shuddered through you as you took in the crowd. There were few that you actually recognized, usually hazed in expensive alcohol and lingering by the food, or some form of fresh air.

“It’s ironic that it’s about birds, right?”

She leveled you with an unimpressed look and squeezed your shoulder fondly. It didn’t take long for Lance to make his way over to the both of you. His eyes lit up and a smile spread across his freshly-shaved face. He gave you a small wave, gently exiting the conversation he was having with a congressman, a millionaire, or an architect that was just the right amount of desperate.

Lance Hunter had stolen your mothers heart when you were ten years old. You always assumed it was the accent, but the more you got to know him, the more you understood his charms. Lance had never forced things with you, had never claimed to be your father.

There were quiet moments when he’d join you on the wrap-around porch of your family home and just sit. The two of you would watch the way the sun dipped behind the horizon, sipping on syrupy cans of soft drink. Eventually, you talked to him, and he listened with diligence.

“My girls,” he said, placing a chaste kiss against your forehead before sidling up next to Bobbi. They had effortlessly matched in a deep and royal blue that contrasted the ignited red of your own suit. You were the perfect epitome of a political family.

Eleanor Bishop had given you a brief nod of the head, signifying your presence. It was a silent warning told through blackened eyes: Behave.

Her diligent attention was enough to split your family up. You preferred to linger away from the stuffy socialites. Bobbi and Lance were required to mingle. You plucked a flute of bubbling champagne from a passing tray and moved towards one of the elegant support beams decorated with what you now learned, was real foliage.

The floral scent tickled the back of your throat, so you took a generous swallow and let the alcohol warm your stomach diligently. There had to be something interesting around here, away from the rest of the party. A plague or two that would further explain the venue.

A burst of forced laughter greeted your parents as they sidled up next to Jack and Eleanor. Lance had produced some campaign buttons, which the group took without hesitation. You had to admit, he was loveable and politician-worthy.

“Look at us, we match.”

You swallowed back a groan, not bothering to look over. A small noise still escaped you, and the grumble conveyed your exact disposition towards Kate Bishop. Disgust. Annoyance. The slightest bit of attraction. She overwhelmed your senses with her crisp, winter scent.

Eventually, curiosity got the better of you and you glanced over at her. She was in red too, incredibly vibrant against her soft expanses of exposed skin. The dress had a dipping neckline, revealing the freckles that created constellations against her collarbone. She beamed with irritation. You’d never admit that she was captivating.

“I thought you were given explicit instructions to leave me be.” You said between gritted teeth.

She hummed and grasped the drink from your hand. Kate was calculated in her movements, wrapping her lips around the smudge of lipstick that you’d already created on the rim of the glass. She didn’t break eye contact, those slate orbs boring into you.

“We both know you’re the most interesting thing at these parties.”

“I’m not falling for your… charms, Kate Bishop. Your mother may have bought you out of our consequences last time. But, I have more at stake.”

She scoffed and set the now empty glass down on the nearest table. You knew damn well that Kate wasn’t absolved of accountability after your run-in a few months back. She held herself differently now, and it was a minute expression of her posture that caught your attention.

There was a small split at the corner of her lip, and a healing bruise just at her hairline. She’d attempted to use makeup to cover the abrasions, but you had a trained eye. You were your mother’s daughter. These were defensive wounds. And for just a moment, you worried that the Bishop’s had a heavier hand than you’d anticipated.

But then, Kate’s muscles flexed and her head lilted to the side, dark curls splaying over her shoulders. She had grown stronger. It wasn’t noticeable, or at least, it shouldn’t’ have been. But you knew every inch of her body and despite your forced separation, she’d grown steady of herself.

“Why should I be punished, when you’re the one who set the curtains ablaze.”

You leaned close enough to feel her body heat. To her credit, she didn’t step back. A ghost of a smirk was on her lips. You snarled your words. “And who’s fault was that?”

“I don’t see how I was supposed to know you’d get trigger happy with your powers when I went down on you.” She gave you a cocky pout. “Is that a new thing, or have you never been able to handle yourself in moments of pleasure?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from grasping at the strap on her dress, pulling her closer to you out of a burst of anger. The phantom look of confidence spread into a full-blown grin. You were exasperated, the familiar heat burning just under your skin.

It was true, you’d lost control for just a moment, with Kate Bishops head between your legs, one hand buried deep in her mess of tangled hair. As an orgasm washed over you, thighs shaking, your other hand had drifted too close to the drapes and had caught them ablaze.

Despite the both of you being adults, you were separated within an instant. Dragged embarrassingly away by your respective parental units after the fire was put out. The last you’d seen of her was reflected with the flashing red lights of a rumbling fire engine.

Kate had a devilish look in her eyes. “Harder, baby.”

“Ladies,”

It was a resolute sound that had you pulling apart as if she was a toxic entity. In your book, she was. Both hands landed in your pockets and the two of you looked sheepishly at Eleanor. She’d been keeping an eye on you, you were sure. And had made a direct line to you the second Kate had given you that salacious look.

“Good evening, Mrs. Bishop. It’s a pleasure to see you.”

Kate coughed out something that sounded like ‘Kiss ass’ and covered it up with a doe-eyed look of innocence. She may not have been afraid of her mother, but you were terrified. Bobbi had a soft hand. It commanded you like a weapon, and you were happy to do what you were told.

Your own punishment had consisted of heavier training. Both mentally and physically to perfect control that you’d had mastered years ago when you were nothing but a girl with streaks of tears dripping from your chin. The fire had been too strong then, overwhelming and horrible.

“Good evening, Miss Morse, I trust you’ve found a way to entertain yourself during the benefit that isn’t antagonizing my daughter.” Before you could answer, she turned her attention to Kate. “And you. I specifically allowed you to bring a guest in attempts to keep you away from Bobbi’s little arsonist.”

She had been under the full impression that you’d taken a zippo to the hanging drapes. It was the white-hot flames that leaked from your own fingers that had done the damage. Kate was thankfully tight-lipped about the fact, and you let the socialite think whatever she wanted. She hadn’t pressed charges.

Kate pulled her shoulders back, almost looking offended at the name you were tagged with. Almost. “Clint got stopped at the front for an autograph, mom. I’m just biding my time.”

“Bide it somewhere else. We’ve talked about this.”

Eleanor gave you a tight-lipped smile that had noticeably softened compared to the venomous expression she held for Kate. A light squeeze was delivered to your arm. It had always scared you how quick she could switch like that. Her shoulders pulled back as she wandered back over to her group.

Lance lifted his chin in your direction. Silently asking if everything was okay, and it was. His quiet reassurance brought the heat licking at your stomach to a bubbling halt. Why you cared more about Eleanors disposition towards Kate, then her acidity directed at you, was beyond something you were willing to confront.

“Who’s Clint?”

“Why? Jealous?”

“Can we have a normal conversation, please. Is it so shocking that I’d take interest in your friends?”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Yes. If you must know, he’s not a friend. He’s a mentor. He’s, my partner.”

Both of your eyebrows lifted. Partner in what? It wasn’t something you would audibly voice, save you show any concern past the normal amount that you usually had for Kate. The tautness of her muscles, and the superficial injuries made that discomfort return to the pit of your stomach.

Kate was an archer. You knew such from the trophies that littered her dresser the one time you’d been privy to her room. Truth be told, you hadn’t paid much attention. You were backed against her door and her teeth were scraping against your pulse point. But the little gold figures and the child-sized bow on the wall was enough to of a giveaway.

You only knew one archer, and you knew him distantly; from photos that your mother had blacked out with a sharpie. She’d later told you that she regretted the fact because the memories of the three of you would always remain.

The taste of bile filled your throat and Kate lilted her head to the side, like a golden retriever that had heard a piercing noise. There was a surprising amount of concern in her voice. “You okay? You’re looking a little green.”

“Hm? Yeah. Totally. The champagne is just sitting weird.”

A frown had found its way onto your face, and you directed your attention back to the crowd. It seemed that Eleanor was satisfied enough with the two of you lingering in silence. You were trained to know where the exits were in any venue. Kate’s stare shockingly darted in the same pattern as your own.

People had trickled in until the floor was bustling with conversation. You let your shoulders relax in the slightest bit, swallowing back the acrid taste in your mouth. Eleanor had lost her viewpoint of you and her daughter, and you weren’t much in the mood for fighting her on pure proximity.

“There you are, god, I didn’t know this many people cared about birds.”

This time, you couldn’t stop your narrowed eyes from flashing to the intrusion. Whatever distracted Kate was enough to be deemed a savior in your book. But the voice was familiar, painfully so. It was as if your body reacted by busting out in goosebumps, chills rushing down your spine.

Now, you wanted your mother to be able to see you. You were a strong, and capable adult that knew at least six different ways to kill a person without a weapon. You’d gone on missions with your mother, with your Aunt Daisy, too. A simple man in a simpler suit should not make your knees weak.

Yet- here he was. In a charcoal black ensemble with a pocket square that was a flash of purple. It was a color you’d grown to despise. It was an eyesore, as was the man that stood at a height taller than Kate, but just a few inches.

You’d found a singular picture of him that wasn’t defaced in your mother’s nightstand. A polaroid of the three of you on the beach. The sun had turned your cheeks a flushed pink. He had you in his arms and beamed at the camera. Eyes matching the blue of the ocean.

They were the same now, the same vibrancy that you’d thought about. He looked other, worn from parenthood and the effects of time. Of course, you’d seen him on television, but Bobbi had always been quick to flick it off, only lingering during the Sokovia accords.

His mouth fell open in disbelief, but you were careful to keep your jaw stock still. You weren’t going to give Clint Barton the satisfaction of rattling you. Not here, not if he ever decided to show up when you had a family of your own. Not on your deathbed. He couldn’t invoke that from you.

Kate had learned to pick up on body language, and she had learned fast. Her stare shifted between both you, and Clint. She had the right amount of perception to keep her mouth shut, even taking half an inch step back. She was in a position to hold the two of you apart, if need be.

“Holy shit,” He breathed out, “Sparky.”

“Don’t call me Sparky.”

You were taken aback by your own ability to produce words. They were pinched and had dropped down an octave to true anger. Not the type that Kate Bishop was used to. Sure, you had aggravation directed towards her, but nothing short of teasing.

Clint took a slight step towards you, and you took a large one back, nearly bumping into the support beam wrapped with vines and vibrant flowers. Your hand reached out to grab onto it for support, but Kate’s fingers wrapped gently around your wrist. Right. Yes. That would be the safe bet.

You needed to find Bobbi.

Chances were, Clint hadn’t seen her with the growing attendance. You could slip out through the large storm doors that were a few feet behind you. At least then, you could burn scorch marks into the grass and not into this historical building.

“What is happening?” Kate said, refusing to remove her hand from your wrist. You didn’t wrench it away, either. It was a force, a grounding factor. You refused to let the fire move past your fingertips in fear that it would burn her. “Clint?”

“She uh… She’s…”

The words died in his throat. You couldn’t’ stand looking at him, pale as ice and wringing his hands nervously. He couldn’t hold still, but you were like a stone. Almost as if he would vanish the second you averted your stare.

“I’m his daughter.”

Kate’s hand did move from your wrist and to your hand, almost out of instinct. Your relationship, or lack-there-of, had never required this kind of closeness. But She was hanging on tightly, nails digging into your skin. The slight sting brought you back.

Clint croaked “How’s your mother?”

Kate winced and you felt the spring in your spine loosen. He was more nervous than you were and that gave you an advantage. “You can ask her yourself. She and Lance are mingling.”

“Lance is here?”

“Of course.”

He was running for congressman. It would damage his campaign if he hadn’t shown up. The gossip blogs that followed the lives of New Yorks Elite had picked up on the rift between you and Kate. There were a few grainy photos of the two of you standing shoulder to shoulder, wrapped in foil blankets that made you look like Baked potatoes. There was soot on her chin, and you had wiped the darkness away with your thumb. Of course, that had been the moment they caught and wrote about, and plastered all over the internet.

Clint worked his jaw and cupped the back of his neck with a tepid smile. It wavered incessantly. He was boyish in his charm and that would always be the case, no matter how old he got. You knew he had a family now. A real family that didn’t’ consist of a secret agent and their match-happy daughter.

You gave Kate a squeeze with your free hand, signaling that you were fine. The last thing you wanted to appear was weak. She seemed to get the message loud and clear, wrenching her touch away with a nervous clearing of her throat.

“I’m sorry… Can we back up for a second?”  

Clint had a dejected look in his eyes that almost made you feel a twinge of guilt. Almost. Your own ego often got in the way of things, and this was one of them. There was a flood of emotions between both of the archers, a silent pleading to hear him out.

“You and Mrs. Morse dated?”

“They were married.” You snatched another glass of campaign, this one all for yourself. You swallowed the acrid drink and let the bubbles assault your throat. “When did the divorce finalize, again?

“Y/n”

“No, I was never really privy to the details myself.”

“We shouldn’t do this here.”

You finished off the rest of the drink, a certain amount of your defenses lower. You felt warm, but not warm enough to do something stupid. He was right. You shouldn’t do this here and if you had your way, you wouldn’t’ do it anywhere. You were perfectly content to let this man slip back into oblivion and train the Bishop heiress that you had a habit of bedding.

Clint seemed to let out a sigh of relief when you nodded in agreement. He scrutinized you both, the rush of initial shock ebbing away like a melting lake. Chunks of ice broke off and gave way to the familiarity and closeness the two of you held. It was relaxed, despite the rivalry that landed you here in the first place.

“No,” he drawled out, “No, no, no. Kate, you didn’t’.”

The tips of her ears were red enough to match your suit and the color that painted her own lips. She hid her face in her hands with a groan. But you wrapped your arm around her waist and pulled her against your side.

“Does that bother you, old man?”

It clearly did. Kate leveled you with a delicious glare that was unmatched but didn’t’ move from your hold. Was she letting you have this? You weren’t entirely sure. He was whipping his head back and fourth with enough force to break his own neck. It was making you dizzy, but giddy all the same.

Your moment of joy at his dismay was short lived. You caught the sharp scent of your mothers perfume. She’d cut through the crowd and furrowed her brow at your closeness to Kate. It took her a few moments to realize that Clint was here. To realize that he was the man that had spurred your act of rebellion in doing the exact opposite of what she’d requested at the start of the night.

Her cool eyes took him in just as yours had. Kate was still next to you, swallowing a dryness in her throat that you could nearly hear. Bobbi didn’t attempt to separate you as Eleanor had. Instead, she gave you a quiet stare. “Darling, I think it’s time we go. There’s a situation we have to attend to.”

“Of course. It’s been a pleasure.”

It hadn’t been, but you shocked yourself and Kate by leaning in and pressing a kiss just behind her ear, still blazing with blush. She froze but gave you the slightest bit of nod. Clint opened and closed his mouth like a surfaced fish, but kept quiet.

Your mother walked with a purpose, her shoulders pulled back and an elegance to her sway. You didn’t look back, keeping time with her as she weaved through the crowd and towards the lobby that was ten degrees cooler and much, much more welcoming.

“Is there actually a situation, or is this your attempt at a rescue?”

She ignored your question, stopping and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a soft look in her eyes that made your stomach squirm. “Are you okay, sweetie? I had no idea that he’d be here. I never would have made you come.”

“I’m fine, mom.” She didn’t seem convinced, so you added “Really.”

Eventually, Bobbi relented with a shaky sigh and cupped your cheek in a comforting manner. “Good. Okay. Good. Because we do have a situation.”

[cc--2224]

Working Parts

Pairing: Echo x F!Reader

Summary: There was always something about Echo that drew you to him, you had no idea that he'd feel the same way. But when he shares his past with you, you know you want to be there to comfort him in the future.

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, pregnancy mention, lots of angst, but it's also so soft

Notes: This was written for the @cloneficgiftexchange run by @ghostofskywalker and this fic was written for @jedipoodoo , I hope you enjoy!!

Prompts: "You're okay, I'm right here." ||"I won't leave you." - and you also included that you love stories about parenthood and pregnancy, so I did my best!

Word Count: 3.4k

Read on AO3 Here

Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added!

Masterlist

The first time you saw Echo, he had just disembarked from his ship, visiting his brothers and his sister. You happened to be near the landing port, and you looked over just as he descended the ramp, and from there you knew that you wanted to meet him, to get to know him. 

But you also knew that you weren't really the type to walk up to someone new, especially here. You were new enough to Pabu, the idea of putting yourself out there when you had just come here to hide from the Empire just seemed counter intuitive. It wasn't as if you were in any kind of trouble, after all, you were a mechanic and if anything would be an asset to them, but it seemed safer to stay out of sight, you could think of only a few things worse than being forced into the Empire.

“His name is Echo.” You heard a voice ring out from beside you, making you jump. You turned to your right, the voice had come from another one of the new arrivals, you had only learned that his name was Tech a few weeks prior when he walked into your shop looking for parts for his ship.

“W-What?” Your voice was still flustered from the sudden scare.

“I assumed you would want the name of the person you were so obviously staring at.”

“No, I–” You began to protest before sighing, knowing it was pointless to argue.

Tech waited for you to continue your sentence, but when you didn't, he adjusted his goggles and walked over to greet his brother.

“Like he'd want to meet me..” You muttered to yourself, but almost as soon as Tech made it over to Echo, the latter had turned his head to face you. That was your cue to turn and leave, not wanting to make him uncomfortable with your apparent staring.

~ ~ ~

The second time you saw Echo was a few months following the initial visit. He and his brothers had all come by your shop. Tech had placed another order for his seemingly never-ending tinkering, and the others - whose names you had finally learned - decided to accompany him.

You were surprised to see them all there in your little shop, but especially surprised to see Echo. It seemed that his visits to Pabu were few and far between. 

You did absolutely everything you could to avoid staring. 

When you were busying yourself with re-organizing drawers of miscellaneous parts, you heard your name being called out from behind you. It caused you to jump and knock over a pile of bolts onto the ground.

“Oh kriff, sorry about that.” 

You turned around slowly, trying not to let the embarrassment show in your face, only to be faced with the one you were internally trying to avoid.

“Don’t worry about it.” You said, a bit too shakily..

“That is your name though, right?” He asked, and when you nodded, he smiled. “Good to know, I’m Echo.”

“Nice to meet you.” You forced a smile back.

The tallest of them, Wrecker, wandered up to the front counter to join the two of you, and slapped a hand across Echo’s shoulder.

“Weird you two have never met!” He laughed, “I mean, Echo always just stares at you whenever he sees you, so it’s nice you finally have a chance to talk!” 

“...Thanks, Wreck.” Echo sighed, and looked at you with a slightly guilty expression.

You smiled and shook your head in reassurance to his unspoken apology, knowing you were guilty of the same thing. This almost gave you hope that your desire to get to know him was mutual. Almost.

Before long, the others approached the counter to collect their order and purchase the additional parts they had gathered in your shop. 

As they left, Echo took one last look toward you before ducking out of the building, and you got to work cleaning up the bolts you had knocked over.

Kriff. You sighed to yourself.

~ ~ ~

The time between Echo’s visits seemed longer and longer the more you eventually started getting to know him. You would never admit it out loud, but you even began to miss him when he wasn’t around.

He was kind, and he was quick-witted; he definitely matched his brothers' sarcasm and humour. And when the evening sun shone on him, his eyes almost appeared to glow gold.

It didn't take long for you to completely fall for him, he had a way of speaking that invited you in, he was charming and confident, certainly the type who could have any girl he wanted. 

For that reason, in addition to his frequent trips off-world, you decided not to say anything to him about your feelings. At least you wouldn't pine after him when you didn't have to see him every day, you had figured.

You had put the kettle on one evening and began sorting through your to-do list for the next day, getting lost in your thoughts when a loud knock on the door startled you out of them. 

Cautiously, you walked to the front window, peering out to see who could possibly be visiting, when you saw Echo standing on your front steps, looking around nervously, with his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

You unlocked the door and opened it. 

"Echo? What are you doing here?" You didn’t even realize he was on-world.

"I uh.. was just nearby and wanted to say hi." He was shuffling his feet a little, and his tone was hesitant.

Everything you had thought of his confidence seemed to fizzle away with his words, but still you smiled. 

"Hi," you repeated in greeting.

"Right well.. I should just.." He sighed, "I had a whole idea of what I was going to say but..."

You shook your head, still smiling. "I just put the kettle on, would you like to come in for some tea?" 

He breathed a sigh of relief, "I'd love to."

Echo entered your house slowly, as if he wasn't fully sure if he was actually welcome.

"Make yourself at home," you told him, reassuringly. "Tea should be ready soon."

"Thank you." He sat down on the sofa, taking in his surroundings. 

Your living room was warm and inviting, it certainly felt like you. He smiled, eying some of the photos on the wall.

He knew fairly early on how he felt about you, the fact that you seemed just as nervous as he was when you had first met gave him courage that you might even feel the same way. You were smart, you knew your way around all the working parts of any droid or ship on the planet. Something that he almost felt was humourous, given the fact that it made up most of him too. But more than that, his own darker thoughts figured that meant you’d want nothing to do with him. For that reason, he could never be open about his feelings toward you, but he had enough of hiding it. This revelation was what brought him to your door.

You returned to the living room holding two tea cups, and you set his down in front of him before sitting down on a nearby armchair.

"So what did you have to say?" You asked when you were settled.

"I'm sorry?" He asked, taking a sip of his drink.

"You said you had an idea of something you wanted to say."

"Oh, right I-..." 

He looked down at the teacup.

"I guess I just wanted to talk to you. We’ve been getting to know each other, but I feel like I still don’t know much about you."

You smiled, "Well there's not much to know. I came to Pabu after the Empire began occupying Lothal, opened up my shop, and have been here ever since."

"I see. Not the worst place to escape to," He noted. "Do you er... Anyone special?" 

You could feel blood rise to your cheeks at his question. 

"N-No, not really. Do.. you?" 

"Nah, me neither." His admission brought a feeling of relief to you. He had a sad look as he continued. “Not really sure it’s in my cards. Part of me always kinda wanted a family, especially after meeting Cut and Suu, knowing that some clones out there are living comfortably, but..” He trailed off.

You wanted so badly to comfort him in some way, but you didn’t know how. Anything you thought of saying would only reveal your feelings toward him, and you weren’t really ready to do that.

It grew silent with neither of you knowing what to say.

Eventually, you spoke up, figuring the best thing to do was to change the subject.

"What do you think of Pabu?" You asked him.

He thought about his answer, then he looked at you earnestly, with a spark in his eye that you couldn't quite place. 

"Honestly? I know I’m gone for long periods of time, but… It's getting harder and harder to leave." 

"You could stay." You blurted out without thinking, and you quickly tried to recover, "I mean, since the others live here and all.." 

You mentally facepalmed at your outburst.

But instead of poking fun at you, you heard a quiet chuckle.

"Maybe I will, after my job out there is done."

Your curiosity got the better of you. “What is it that you do when you’re away?”

“We help lost clones find places where they can be safe and comfortable, and above all, free.” 

You smiled, “That’s really noble.”

“It’s the least we can do. Rex and I both feel like we’re only alive today because of the blood our brothers spilled for us, so it’s only fair that we use that to help the ones still out there.”

“What was the war like for you?”

He paused and looked down at his cup. “It’s kind of hard to say.”

You waited to see if he would continue.

“It took me and my squad a long time to even pass the training drill to leave Kamino. They used to call us the Domino squad because we always seemed to fall one after the other. When we did finally get deployed, we were sent to an outpost on the Rishi moon and in our first real battle, we lost three of our men.”

“I see…”

“After that though, Fives and I were taken into the 501st under Captain Rex, where we eventually were made ARC Troopers, but after that was the Citadel.”

“What happened?”

“I got blown up.” He stated, his tone was laced with almost dry humour but he wasn’t laughing. “Seps got me and turned me into, well, this. And now I’m here. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful that Rex and the boys found me on Skako Minor, but I still get nightmares about it sometimes.”

He looked over at you, and his expression turned sympathetic after he saw how upset you looked.

“I guess I unloaded there, sorry.”

“Don’t be, I’m glad you told me. I just wish I knew what to say.”

He smiled a half smile at you, “I appreciate you listening.”

Without really thinking, you moved closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck in a tight embrace. You stayed there for a moment, and soon you felt his arm reach around you, holding you there.

~ ~ ~

After that night, your relationship with Echo changed. He trusted you, you knew that just from the fact that he was willing to tell you everything about his past. 

When he’d arrive on Pabu, he always met you with an embrace, and more times than not, he’d show up at your house to discuss his missions and any news you had over a cup of tea.

And one of those nights, he had finally confessed his feelings for you. 

He didn’t work up to it in any sense. Instead, when you opened the door to let him inside, he stood on the doorstep, holding a bouquet of flowers out to you.

“What’s this?” You said smiling at the gift.

“I love you.” He announced, a faint blush growing across his cheeks, he was slightly shaking, but his eyes were serious.

“You- What?” Was all you could manage to say in reply. You heard him, but you couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“I have for a while now. I knew from the start that I had feelings for you, but.. Ever since the night where I told you about, well, everything, I knew how deep those feelings were. If you don’t… Feel the same way, that’s okay, but I needed you to know.”

“Echo…” You managed to say, quietly. “I do feel the same.”

“What?” Echo was surprised, and he immediately believed he misheard you.

“Come in, please.” You said, and all but pulled him into your house. “I love you too.”

“But why? I.. Since when?”

“The same time as you.” You sighed and stood closer to him. “I’ve always had feelings for you, since we met. And when you opened up to me, when you trusted me with your past, I couldn’t ignore it anymore, but I always thought I was alone in it, so I couldn’t bring myself to tell you.”

He smiled softly and placed his hand on your cheek, drawing your face closer to his. 

“You’re not alone. I’m right here with you.” He told you before he closed the distance, pressing his lips to yours, and you wrapped your arms around him, smiling into the kiss.

Echo broke the kiss before you both ran out of air, but still he held you close to him, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I’m relieved that you feel the same way, but I would understand if you didn’t, with me being this.”

“Oh shush,” you told him. “You’ll need a mechanic to keep everything in order.”

He smiled at you before placing a kiss against your lips once again.

~ ~ ~

You felt him tossing in the bed next to you. Another nightmare, you thought to yourself. 

He was getting them more frequently, and it worried you. It had been some time since he was rescued from Skako Minor, but the memories he had of his life before that had never quite faded. Memories of a life he could never quite return to. And you knew that something else was causing him stress. His nightmares grew more frequent ever since you had told him that you were pregnant. 

He was happy to be on Pabu with you, to start a family with you. But you knew it was still a hard adjustment for him. Not just living on Pabu, but everything since waking up from the stasis chamber he was put in. Everything that he had told you about all those years ago still haunted him to this day, and you wished that there was some way that you could help, but he had always told you that just being there with him was enough.

All you could really do in these moments was to try and calm him down, gently ease him out of his nightmares, try to get him to talk to you about them when he woke up, but sometimes it was easier said than done. 

You lay next to him, rubbing his back gently guiding your hand up and down next to the cybernetics, attempting to soothe him from his nightmare without waking him. He stirred gently under your touch before his eyes fluttered open.

"Fives!" He yelled as he lifted himself up off the bed. 

He took a moment to look around, eyes adjusting to the dark room.

"Shh.. You're okay." You whispered to him. 

He fell back onto the bed, turning to look at the ceiling before turning to face you.

"You should be sleeping." He said quietly, "I didn't wake you, did I?"

You shook your head, "No, I was already awake." 

He sighed and pulled you close to him, you adjusted yourself so you could rest your back against his chest, and he held you there, with a hand rubbing your belly gently. 

"I dreamt about the Citadel." He began. "Only instead of me getting hurt, it was Fives." 

You could feel his breath get shakier, and you intertwined your fingers with his. 

"I couldn't protect him. I couldn't protect any of them. Fives, Cutup, Droidbait, Hevy... I'm the only one left." 

You could tell from his voice that this wasn't entirely about his nightmare, and you turned back around to face him.

"Echo.." You gently reached your hand up to rest it on the side of his face.

He wouldn't meet your gaze, his eyes became fixed on your belly.

"What if I can't protect our child?" He asked quietly. 

"You can't think like that, I know you'll do anything for them." 

"But what if I can't?" He sighed, "You deserve someone you can rely on, someone strong to stand beside you. A good father for your children."

"And I have him." You reassured him. "Echo, everything you've described is you. I know you're afraid, and it's okay to be. In a couple months, we'll have someone else to look out for, but I know we'll be able to do this together. I didn't know them, but I know that Fives, Hevy, everyone would be so proud of you, for everything you've made it through, and everything that is coming our way." 

He sighed in frustration, clearly not hearing your words. “I won’t even be able to hold them properly without hurting them. How am I supposed to take care of a child?”

“Because you’re not doing it alone. Echo, I’m still here. I’ll always be here, we’ll be in this together, just like we always have.”

You pressed your forehead against his. "I'm right here with you." 

Echo nudged his forehead into yours gently, and pressed a kiss against your lips. 

"Thank you, mesh'la. You always know what I need to hear. I'm.. sorry."

"You don't need to be sorry. Anytime you need to hear it, I'll be here. I won't leave you."

~ ~ ~

If there was one thing Echo didn’t need to worry about, it was whether or not he would be a good father. 

He was nervous about it, of course. His nerves couldn’t be calmed until the moment he looked into the big brown eyes, his eyes, on this tiny person. His insecurities and worries all melted away from that moment onward.

He had a bit of practice with Omega, but fatherhood really came naturally to him. You remembered hearing a joke once that it was the Mandalorian genes, but to you, it was just how Echo was. He was always kind, gentle, and caring, and these traits became even stronger once your child was born. 

He was a perfect father, perhaps a little overly cautious at times, but caring all the same. You remembered laughing at his idea to wrap a soft blanket around his scomp link so that it didn’t dig into your child’s skin, but he did it anyway.

And he was proud that his child had such a loving family, the other batchers became the best uncles overnight. Hunter and Wrecker immediately took to doting on and fawning over your child, Tech took to adding all kinds of child safety measures to the Marauder, and Omega was ecstatic to finally be an aunt. 

You knew that there was still a part of Echo that he tried his best to keep hidden that longed to see the other members of the Domino squad be part of your little loving family, to watch your child grow up, to play games with them, to teach them to fly, to tell them stories about their dad that even you haven’t heard, to just be there, to be alive, but all you could do was reassure him that, wherever they are, they were looking out for him, and the new addition. 

From there, everything seemed to fall into place. Everything made sense. 

Echo had told you once, all that time ago that he had wanted a family of his own, a dream of his and yours that became reality with you by his side. 

The two of you were working parts, you helped each other move and grow, and you would continue to do so for as long as you could.

[nctstar]

Can you write a smut w plot on Taeyong x sub!reader x Mark ? I am craving for this pair please bestie...you can take your time, no rush. make them a bit possessive and dom and you can add anything to your liking.

hiii friend! i know this is CRAZY late but i hope you still like it <3 turned out a bit more sad than expected HAHA

dumb conversations, we lose track of time

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” He bent over to kiss you, bringing both of his icy hands to your face, but you didn’t care. The kiss was everything, and you brought your bodies over to the wall as you continued, one of his legs now in between yours. “Fuck, I think…I’m gonna miss you so bad.”

pairing: markyong x fem!reader (no markyong ship)

other members: other 127 members mentioned

word count: 3k

genre: romance & smut, angst, fluff, sort of hurt/comfort

warnings: sexual content so minors please dni!! mild profanity, mentions of being sick from food, kissing, dom!markyong, praise kink, degradation (use of slut/whore), daddy kink, slapping, penetrative sex, riding, oral (male receiving), manhandling/being held down/held in place, missionary sex, praising (sweet girl, good girl), crying (like lots of crying!!), subspace, double penetration (2 in 1), clitoral stimulation, taeyong is leaving for military service and this is upsetting to reader (strong self insert moment LMAO)

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic. 

a/n: NOW i know i was technically supposed to make this a (freaky) smut only...but i had to add the extra things because i have been sooo emotional lately and i have not really been in a smut mood unless it's emotional and loving :D with the release of the tortured poets department, taeyong's enlistment, renjun's hiatus...ya'll it's just been a lot. so a lot of this is very much just me projecting HAHA but hope it's comforting to some of you. also, i just wanna say that you guys shouldn't feel pressured to engage in sexual activity when you're sad and crying...everything here is consensual of COURSE as always, and this is all fantasy but i just thought I'd add that in. please take care of yourselves when you're vulnerable. love ya'll mwah <3

You stifled your giggles in the droop of your cardigan, but Taeyong still flushed red. Your cheeks puffed out as you fought the urge to snort in his face. “I’m so sorry.”

He rolled his eyes, instinctively going to run his hands through his now non-existent hair, making you double over in laughter. “Alright, miss, that’s enough. Hilarious, I know.”

“Noooo Taeyong, don’t be embarrassed.” You ran over, pinching his cheeks in your hands, feeling his skin hot and elastic under your thumbs. “You’re so cute. Like…Anpanman!”

“I know you love jjingppang, jagi, but that was so uncalled for.” You strung his arm into your body, letting the both of you walk away from the dim lights of the restaurant. “Why? Are you hungry? But didn’t you just eat?”

“There is always space for dessert, hon. Come on, we’ve been together 2 and a half years now, and you still don’t know my philosophies?” You were teasing, having fun, but as you watched another couple walk in front of you, hands gripped tightly together, the shadows in the trees dancing across their bodies, you felt something sharp poke inside you. You gulped the feeling down, forcing a smile, even though you knew he wasn’t watching.

“You’ll get sick if you eat too much bread again.” You shook your head, scoffing. “That was one time, Taeyong. And it was in Japan. I would definitely have eaten that much again.”

“Really? I recall you crying in the bathroom, whining to me about why I didn’t stop you.” You knocked him playfully, feeling his scent permeate your senses and bring you back to those times in Japan. He was here now, a solid body standing right next to you, brushing up against you, but…You felt a sudden rush of emotion, but you could see Mark’s car now, and you decided not to bring up what you had been thinking the entire time.

“So-“

“I’m sorry I’m leaving you.” The words surprised you, even though it was something both of you had been holding back the entire time. “I’m sorry I have to do this.”

“Don’t be silly.” You were standing in front of him now, the white streetlights illuminating every line on his face, too scared to look into his eyes. “You have to do it, right? And, you should be proud of yourself. It’s hard work you are willing to dedicate yourself to for a while. And, I can always take care of myself.”

“You have Mark.”

“No, I can take care of myself.” You nodded as if you were trying to convince yourself instead of just him. Your eyes watered, working against every restraint you had. “Please, just…it will be fine. I will still see you. Just, not as often. But you’ll still be here.” He held both your hands, bringing them to his chest, and you were looking at your shoes, watching them get blurrier, feeling him pull your body towards his.

You couldn’t do it. Not for the last time.

“Bye.” You let go of his hands, turning swiftly around and walking towards the parked car at a pace that seemed closer to running.

The warmth enveloped you, and you hastily rubbed off the tears, almost embarrassed at the thought of crying in front of him. Both of them. “H-hey, Mark.”

“You okay?” You nodded, and he brought your hand to his lips, lightly pecking it before he shifted gears.

∞

The apartment was quiet at first, as if it already sensed the loss of one tenant. “Just squeezing past, babe.” Mark’s shoulder brushed yours as the keys jangled in his fingers, his steps retreating towards the bathroom. You walked over to the couch, looking at the empty cake box, the one Doyoung had bought to celebrate. The cake crumbs that littered the floor, the frosting on the couch – you didn’t even have the heart to be mad.

“Is that frosting…on the couch?”

You chuckled weakly, sniffling. “Yeah. I thought I told Jungwoo not to make a mess.”

“You didn’t. You’re so quiet around the boys. So shy.” Mark’s breath tickled your neck, his lips grazing the skin hidden underneath your cardigan. He kissed you gently, bringing one hand to your shoulder, the one he had brushed. “It’s what I love about you.”

You smiled, watching Mark’s shadow cover you as he moved to sit next to you on the couch. “What a mess. This isn’t driving you crazy?” You shook your head, but you smiled, a little bit more genuine this time. Curling up next to Mark, you basked in the heat of his body. He pressed his nose to the top of your head, inhaling your scent. “You smell good.”

“You trying to get laid, Lee?” You felt his chest shake as he laughed, both a little awkwardly and without holding back, like he always did. You thought of all the times you fell asleep in his lap, feeling him stroke your body soothingly as you both waited for Taeyong to get home.

You sat up, turning, looking deep into Mark’s eyes. “I love you.” You kissed him, pulling his bottom lip with your mouth as you pulled away. He ran his hands up your back, connecting lips as you climbed onto his lap, so quick to bring your body against his. He held your hips in place when you stared to move, groaning softly as he pulled away from your mouth. “Are you sure?”

“What, am I sure I love you?”

“No, I mean,” he gasped shortly when you kissed his collarbone, a spot only you knew how to tease. “Easy, baby. I mean, are you okay with doing it tonight?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Your voice came out sharper than you intended, and you hated yourself in that moment for ruining it all. Desperate to stop him from continuing, you shut him up with a kiss, moving his hands from your hips so you could grind against his growing bulge. Your fingers in his hair, you dug your knees on the couch so you could push your chest onto his face. He moaned this time, tugging at the ends of your hoodie to signal you to take it off. You hissed when the cold hit your bare torso, Mark unhooking your bra clasp as you shivered. “You cold, sweetheart?” You nodded, but you were sitting back onto his lap, both of you shrugging off your bottoms as you talked. The cold drew goosebumps on your skin, but you felt wet and hot in the pits of your stomach.

“Fuck, so tight.” Mark threw his head back as you cried out, feeling the stretch harder than you remembered. He held you in place with a hand on the small of your back, another on your thigh. “Shhh. Come closer to me. Good girl.” He continued praising you as you sunk deeper onto his length, inches buried inside you. “W-wait.” You pressed a hand to his stomach, warning him not to move as you scrunched your eyes shut. “So fucking big.” Mark laughed, moving your hand away and bringing your chest closer to his mouth. As he licked and nipped at your body, you began to relax, your breath quickening with every passing second. His dick jumped inside you, making you whimper. “You ready, sweet girl?”

You tasted the tears before you felt them, streaked down your face. “Please.” you begged, and he began to thrust up into you. “Fuck, Mark, M-Mark!” Your voice carried through the apartment as he rolled his hips into you. “Come on, baby, that’s it. You’re our good girl, right?” You sobbed, bringing one hand to your mouth to quieten yourself, but he pulled the hand away. “If you’re gonna cum, you better do it screaming my name. You understand?” He held your chin into place. “Use your words.”

“Yes, yes, p-please. Fuck,” You gasped, feeling the ripples of pleasure run through your body. “I’m close! Please, Mark, can I-“

“Yeah, good girl, baby. I’m close too.” His voice was raspy, his thrusts sloppy as he reached his own high. You shut your eyes, feeling your thighs constrict as you came. You breathed heavily, the tears still running down your face. When the ringing sound stopped post-orgasm, you heard yourself crying.

“Hey, hey. You did well, sweetheart. It’s okay, I’m right here.” You nodded, feeling your body slump against him. “Can I pull out? Does it hurt? I didn’t hurt you, right?”

You looked into his eyes, feeling the way he held you so securely in his arms. “I miss him. I miss the three of us. I know it’s silly, because it technically hasn’t happened yet, but,” you sighed. “I didn’t know how hard it would be until it really happened.”

Mark hummed in agreement, wiping away your tears. “Of course. That’s not silly. And, I love you too, okay? I’m here for you.” You wrapped your arms around his body, breathing in his scent, feeling Mark pull your hoodie around the both of you. “You never hurt me, Mark.”

∞

You both woke up with a jolt when the knocking started. You climbed off Mark as your eyes shot open, and the both of you started frantically dressing, as if the person had entered straight away. “Who’s coming over so late?” Mark grumbled.

“Hopefully Jungwoo to clean the couch.” You muttered, but Mark was rushing to open the door after peeking through the peephole, and you frowned.

“Hyung.”

You knew it was him. But you couldn’t even move. In that moment, you were frozen in time.

“Hi, jagi.” His body stood looming over yours, his face red from the cold outside. You didn’t know what to say, rubbing the itch on one of your ankles to kill time.

“You’re…you’re here.”

“Yeah. It’s my apartment too, right?” He smirked. “Why, is the Anpanman look enough to make you forget me?” You laughed, sniffling, hitting him lightly on the chest. You noticed Mark raise an eyebrow, left out of the inside joke. Your stomach churned, your heart pining for a loss that suddenly was not lost, and it all felt so out of place.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” He bent over to kiss you, bringing both of his icy hands to your face, but you didn’t care. The kiss was everything, and you brought your bodies over to the wall as you continued, one of his legs now in between yours. “Fuck, I think…I’m gonna miss you so bad.”

“You’ll live.” You scoffed, pushing him away. He laughed, the smile lines on his face making your heart soar. “I don’t think I’m gonna miss these stupid jokes.”

He kissed your forehead. “I think you will.” You rolled your eyes, but he was right. As always. You ran a hand up his chest, then, underneath the hoodie he was wearing. You gasped in an exaggerated, ditsy way, making your voice airy on purpose. “Officer, I think you’re pretty hard right now.”

Taeyong smirked, his eyes darkening as he gripped the wrist of your wandering hand. “Oh yeah? You think you know me so well? Wanna play that game?” In the corner of your eye, you watched Mark’s figure step closer. “She already did, Hyung.” He pushed his tongue on the side of his cheek, and you fluttered your eyelashes at Taeyong, feigning innocence. “I didn’t do anything. He’s lying.”

“Oh?” Mark looked pissed, and you only giggled in response. Taeyong brought his face closer to yours. “If I find out you’ve been lying, you’re done for. Now, on your knees.” You complied, seconds later being met with Taeyong’s length springing out of his boxers. You covered his tip with your mouth, but you felt your hair being yanked backwards and a slap on your face. “Did I say anything yet? Dirty slut.” Mark’s grip on your hair didn’t falter, and you whined. “If you want to suck me so bad, you better be ready to beg for it.”

“Mmm, please. Please let me taste you, Daddy. Please, I’ll be good.” Mark’s other hand travelled under your chin, tilting your head up almost uncomfortably, making you yelp. “Tap him if it’s too much, okay?” You nodded in response, and as soon as you did, Mark’s thumb pressed hard on your bottom lip, prying your jaw open. Taeyong thrusted inside your open mouth, guttural groans leaving him as he did. Tears sprung to your eyes at the sudden intrusion, the apartment now filled with the sounds of you violently gagging on dick. Your fists clenched by your sides. “Pretty cockwhore, aren’t you?” Mark whistled lowly, making you squeeze your legs in embarrassment. “Ah, so you like being our nasty little thing. As expected.” You shook your head, but he only tightened his grip, laughing almost cruelly in response. Taeyong pulled out when he heard you choking, inhaling air as soon as his tip left your mouth. “Not so talkative now, are you, pretty?” Your voice raspy as you spoke, you opened your mouth wider, sticking your tongue out. “Daddy’s little whore, yeah?” You could only hum in response as Mark held you still, Taeyong jerking himself off on your tongue. You swallowed the cum in your mouth, letting some of it drool out of your mouth. Taeyong bent over, spreading it over your chin, mixed with your drool. “Go and bend over the couch.” You went to nod once more, but he slapped your face. “Words.”

“Y-yes, T-Taeyongie.” You only used that when you were floating away, letting yourself go, and to be honest, you were surprised it had happened so soon. As you bent over the couch, you had an inkling that they were surprised too. You felt Taeyong’s hands on your sides, and you jumped. “Sorry, jagi. Is this still okay?”

“Uh-huh.” You felt wetness pool in between your legs. “Please, f-fuck me. Before, what happened…well, Markie…I’m sorry I lied, Daddy.” You heard Taeyong shushing you. “I want you to enjoy yourself, beautiful. Okay? Tell me if this is too much.” You sighed, relaxing when you felt Taeyong rub up your back, pressing hard in the way that you liked. Under his hands, you felt safe. Calm. Honest.

“C-Can we go to the bedroom? I don’t like this position.”

Your body burned, even though your shared bedroom was freezing tonight. “Fuck, it’s cold in here.” Taeyong held you close to your body, as if he never wanted to let go.

As the three of you sat on the edge of the bed, you began to ugly cry. Taeyong rubbed your back as you shook, Mark taking a tissue to wipe your chin. “Was it too much? Baby?” You didn’t know who was speaking, but you held both their hands, unable to stop the tears from falling. “No, its just that,” you rubbed your face harshly, feeling the days makeup rub off on your hand. “This is all so fucking dumb. I’m sorry, but, I don’t want you to leave. I don’t care if that makes me a bad person.” Taeyong laughed as he held your head in both his hands, pulling you into his body. Mark ran his hands soothingly up your thighs. “I think I love this side of you, actually.”

You smiled, remembering your conversation only a while ago. “Sorry I’m ruining everything.”

“Sorry but, you must be fucking crazy if you think that’s true for even a second.” Unlocking yourself from Taeyong’s embrace, you exaggerate lifting your hands up in surrender. “Okay, relax, Mark. Don’t call a woman crazy.”

“Especially not a horny one.” You snorted at this, making both of them laugh. Sighing, you tried to appear mad or even annoyed. But you hadn’t felt more free in days.

He was right. You were going to miss these stupid jokes.

The three of you rolled onto the bed, you straddling Taeyong while Mark left noisy kisses down the sides of your neck from behind. “I want you both inside me. Please.” You moaned as Mark squeezed your boob from under your shirt, your head on his shoulder as Taeyong pulled your panties down, the three of you momentarily and, almost comically, struggling with taking them all the way off.

Your hands splayed across Taeyong’s bare chest, you bent over to kiss him. “I’ll miss you.” You whispered against his skin, and he squeezed the outside of your thigh in response. As Mark sheathed himself inside you for the second time that night, he began to thrust straight away. “Still fits like a fucking sleeve, so fucking good.” Your breath quickened as your clit rolled against Taeyong’s bare cock, your moans thickening as you watched Taeyong lie beneath you. “You ready, my love?” You nodded furiously, Mark holding onto you with an arm across your shoulders, pressing your body flush against his. Both men guided you onto Taeyong’s length, the stretch now burning, firecrackers exploding in your stomach. “Fuck! Oh fuck!” You couldn’t breathe, pulling at Mark’s arm, slowly registering him shushing you in your ear. “Relax, baby girl. You’re doing so well. Almost there.” Taeyong groaned in pleasure, shifting the tiniest bit, which made you yelp. The feeling was so unfamiliar, and your heart pounded at the new sensations. “Please, don’t move yet.” Taeyong rubbed circles on your clit, watching your face carefully.

“Nghh, ahh…” The feeling of both of them inside you was starting to choke you from the inside, deliciously bringing you close to a release. “Wait, Daddy, don’t-“ You squealed as you squirted, your clit throbbing from the aftermath. “Shit, I don’t know if I can-“

“You can cum again, pretty. I know you can.” You moaned, feeling both of them bump against each other and into your walls inside you, wet and messy. “Oh my god, oh my…” you babbled, holding onto anything as they thrusted relentlessly, both their timing desperate and rocky. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum for us, jagi, that’s it.” Taeyong’s voice rose in pitch, and you heard Mark groaning in your ear, pressing your upper body closer to his. You came for the second time, gasping for air, hips rolling without permission over both their cocks. You slumped over Taeyong after, Mark pulling out and resting next to you both on the bed.

[doctorwhoisadhd]

for my non-blaseball-fans:

blaseball - absurdist baseball simulator watched in browser via text play-by-plays. silly / wild things could happen, ie: players getting incinerated during games. incinerated players got "replaced" via generating a new player to take their place (there was also Plot involving The Blaseball Gods written by the game devs)

fictional teams/players, no true "canon", info on players provided by the game limited to just stats, so fans were left to "lore" them

my team (hawaiʻi fridays) had an original player, thomas england, who was incinerated early on & replaced by sixpack dogwalker.

however, game servers experienced data loss of the period in which he died & the devs had to revert to a previous save & manually rebuild all player changes / win-loss records / etc (they only interfered w/ the sim when absolutely necessary)

since he was never incinerated, sixpack’s page never existed. to fix this they just changed the name on england’s player page to "sixpack dogwalker", retroactively erasing him from existence.

(absolute minimum info on more abt this: sixpack got a unique Legendary Item (Bangers & Smash) as a memorial, it was later removed meaning some of her info was the last remnant of him. then almost the same thing happened to her + this info was gone)

long story short he was the ONLY player who was EVER entirely no longer viewable anywhere on the site. and this was REALLY ironic bc our teams gimmick was we had a patron who would grant a "forever" to players, causing them to become a friday. lots of stuff about it always being friday / vibes always being right, island time, friday is inevitable, etc. so the fact that this guy was OUR GUY was insane.

OH YOU KNOW WHAT.

god. of course im . fucking obsessed with the tricksters brigade im the thomas england guy. GOD DAMMIT.

[gh0st-onesh0ts]

I think some things I never say- Aventurine x gn!reader

You're in self-sabotage mode t/w- Angst, breakup summary- Aventurine falls for someone new a/n- Based on irl events

Nav

You told yourself the breakup wouldn't hurt. But it was something that couldn't be helped. A cold breeze swept over your body as you lay in bed clutching a pillow. However nothing could replace the feel of your lost partners body. The way he played with your hair, the way he whispered in your ears. The way he loved you.

Aventurine said he loved someone that wasn't you. You had noticed small changes in his behaviour, the way he tensed when we spoke your name or touch you. The way he began being around others more than you. How he didn't talk to you the same way. Aventurine's eyes were focused on everyone... But you.

"Will they make you happy aventurine?"

"I don't want to hurt you anymore than I already have. I don't love you like I used to."

You saw it coming. Your friends saw it coming. Everyone saw it coming. It should've hurt so much less. So so much less, but it didn't. He would never understand what pain he had put you through. To him it was a game, a gamble. Would it work out? Or would you lose.

Aventurine was gone and he wasn't coming back for you. You had seen him briefly with his next partner. Dark blue hair, a very proper way of speaking, he was pretty... And aventurine was happy. He looked more happy then he was when he was with you.

A few months later you had heard that the pair had broken up. Strangely enough you received a text message from your ex.

"I realise I never should've left you. You were a great person, you helped me, you loved me, you made me feel happy. They were selfish and never did any of the things that you did for me. I never stopped loving you y/n. I pushed down those feelings because I thought I found someone better. I miss you. I miss you so much. I regret our last few weeks. I wish we'd stayed together, please forgive me."

There were so many ways you wished you had responded to this. You also wanted him back, but you couldn't take him. You didn't want your heart broken a second time by the same man.

"It's too late aventurine, our ship has sailed. I don't want to be regarded as your 'last resort'. I'm not coming back to you because of the way you pushed me aside and replaced me so easily. You don't understand how much it hurts to be given away just like that. But I never told you because I was scared that wouldn't listen to me like you didn't back then. I always told you what you did wrong but you refused to change. Flirting with others as soon as you got the chance too..."

[lost-girl-2021]

Adopted Spider Headcanons (Metkayina Edition)

I've been reading fics where Spider's adopted by Ronal and Tonowari the past couple days and now I'm obsessed. The problem is that I mostly write angst and I really wanna read hurt/comfort, lol.

I feel like the typical/common way that I see Spider get taken in is basically him doing his little beach bum shit after everything and slowly getting adopted into their family. And I eat it up. Every. Single. Time.

Spider: *Building a campfire, roasting his own food* Ronal/Tonowari/Tsireya or Anoung: *Why is the Sully's adoptive son alone on the beach?* *Oh well, mine now*

I feel like Ronal would definitely be way at first, she's made it no secret that she strongly dislikes Sky People. But, I'd imagine that eventually, she comes to see him not just as a human, but as a child. And a child who is alone and in need of help.

Aounung would probably be the same. I have this idea of him giving Spider a hard time (after all the carnage/damage/dead people have been handled). Like, trying to mess with him as much as possible, just being an asshole. And then, maybe Spider goes under for a long time while Aounung is on the beach weaving or something. And, even though Spider has a mask and can breath underwater as well as he does above it, Aounung somehow forgot that and freaks, thinking the human has drowned.

Aounung tossed his half-repaired net aside, diving into the water. He whipped around, eyes catching on the mess of dirty blond. Pushing further, he grabbed the boy by the armpits, shooting to the surface and pulling the human onto land. He flipped him over, meeting confused eyes as he placed a hand on his chest. He was breathing fine, not even panting from being under for so—

Spider's mask glinted in the sun. Aounung was an idiot.

"Are you . . . okay?" The smaller boy asked hesitantly, making no move to sit up.

"You were under for a long time." He mumbled, pulling away.

Spider's face split into a grin. "Did you— did you think I was— "

"Quiet." He hissed, standing up. "We will never speak of this again."

Spider's laughter followed him as he stormed away.

I feel like with Tsireya, she would've immediately been all over him. Like, this is Spider, Lo'ak's supposed best friend. The human boy who acted just like he was Na'vi. It probably started mostly as curiosity, but I think that after seeing how the Sully's interacted with Spider, she'd be confused about his place, his family. If Spider didn't sleep in the Sully's marui, didn't eat with them— then where did he do those things?

Tsireya glided along the water, Lo'ak a few feet from her. "Why doesn't Spider stay in your marui?"

Lo'ak raised a brow. "Uh . . . I don't know. He lives with the humans, I guess. Always has."

"But . . . the humans left after helping Kiri. They have not returned."

"They . . . they haven't?" He cleared his throat. "I'm sure Dad has it handled. There's probably a new shack or something for him."

Consider Spider's mask running low and there isn't a spare anywhere. As a kid, he never was gone from the shack long enough for his battery to run low and during his time with the recoms, there were always spares in someone's pack when he needed it. Idk how long the masks last, but for my own sake, I'm going to say Spider got a new one the day of the battle and it lasted him about a week. Or maybe, he managed to pillage one as the ship went down so he's on his second and it's like two weeks or so.

I think that when he saw the little red light flashing, a small beep-beep sounding, that he'd probably be like a kid who forgot there was a test. He'd just panic. But, I imagine he'd also be scared to bother the Sully's by telling them, so he'd spend the next hour searching the village (discreetly) to see if there were any pilfered batteries or masks left behind when the humans visited. Let's say he has two hours from when the mask starts flashing to change it out. And where, oh where, does he wind up when he's got a half-hour left?

Spider was not panicking. Because, when a human panicked, they breathed faster and wasted more air. Norm told him that, so it had to be true. But, he'd checked everywhere he could think of and . . . nothing. There was no shack, no Norm or Max to run to before his timer ran out. No humans. Only him. And in a matter of . . . fuck, twenty minutes, he was going to die just like a human.

He sat slumped on the beach, looking out into the water and trying his best not to openly sob. He didn't want to die crying like a little baby. It was not working out well for him. At least, he'd have a good view when he died.

"Child? What is wrong?"

Spider flinched, looking up with wide eyes at the clan leader. He'd only talked to Tonowari once, when Jake had introduced him. Of course, given his spectacular luck, the man would find him when he was on death's doorstep.

With a sniffle, he held up his beeping pack. "It's almost out. Twenty minutes."

The man frowned down, grasping the device carefully. "And that is why you're so upset? Because, you don't wish to go into the village for a new one? Did something happen? Someone make you feel unwelcome?"

"There is no new mask." There was also no home to go back to. "That was my only one."

With a cut-off gasp, he pulled Spider to his feet. He marched the boy through the village and into what he recognized as the healer's marui. The Tsahik was mixing something, but she stood as soon as they entered.

"Tonowari?" She asked, stepping closer. "What happened? Is he hurt?"

"His mask, where's the spare?"

Wordlessly, the woman pulled a mask from one of the many baskets, easily connecting the tubing and turning it on. Like, she'd done it before. Spider had no time to ask why she had such a thing before she was right in front of him.

"Take a deep breath." She ordered, unlatching the straps of his mask before pulling it off. Just as quickly, the new one was secured. Spider hadn't even moved.

I think that even before deciding to adopt Spider, Tonowari and Ronal would probably make sure he had spare masks and check what food he could/couldn't eat. Like, as soon as they realize the Sully's aren't caring for him, they'd probably subconsciously take responsibility for him. Because, he was just a kid, really. And kids were clumsy and careless and needed help, needed parents. Anoung and Tsireya, despite being independent and skilled, still needed their parents sometimes. Let their mother do their hair and insisted on their father de-gutting their catches. And Spider— Spider is fragile. He's skilled and smart and quick on his feet, but he's a human surrounded by Na'vi. Not to mention, one wrong move and he's left with a cracked mask. And what if he eats the wrong food, mistakes one fruit for another and ends up poisoned?

This ended up way longer that I thought it would be, lol. But, I really love these types of fics and if anyone has any recs or wants to hear more, my comment section is open. XD

[licorice-tea]

You’re An Angel When You Sleep

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: angst, drowning, a little “off-screen” violence, hurt/comfort, near death experience

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: literally wrote this in between classes so hopefully it doesn’t feel too rushed! not edited super closely yet, the grammar might be a little off. inspired by the song “Around The Bend” by Pearl Jam, specifically the last verse <3

Edited 2/28/24

Law is sinking, and there’s nothing he can do.

People call it “The Curse of The Sea.” They say that “she” turns her back on you when you eat a devil fruit. It’s simply the price to pay for such immense power.

And he has never had to worry about it before. His devil fruit ability affords him the security of being to prevent trips into the ocean. Not that he ever would fall- Law is far too careful a man- but he has plenty of crewmates and friends/allies that could somehow knock him overboard.

How sickening, that the first time it actually happened was at the hands of an enemy. And how disappointing, that it had only happened because of his own pride. A foolish disregard of taking caution while standing close to the railing on the enemy ship, when one of his opponent’s underlings threw something that didn’t even really hurt, but sent him overboard. In the midst of a battle where everyone was expected to hold their own- Law could expect no help as he plunged into icy waters.

It’s cold enough as it is, and his curse does nothing to help. He tries his hardest to stay conscious- perhaps he can still use his power if he thinks hard enough. People awaken their devil fruits all the time, so there’s no reason why he can’t do it now. But, no matter how badly he wants to simply teleport back to the deck of the ship, he can’t. The feeling of impending doom only serves to weaken his resolve, and soon enough Law is unwillingly giving up and giving in to the sea.

He’s about 10-12 meters down now. The weight of the water makes it feel nearly impossible to hold his breath for longer, so he lets out an exhale ever so slowly.

But no one is coming, and it’s time to accept his fate. “This is it,” he thinks, “just another pirate lost to the sea. That’s how it ends for me.”

He takes a moment to reflect on life up until now. So much pain and suffering, but in the end he just can’t stop remembering what little good there has been. His crew, who, no matter how much they bothered him, were his family. His blood family and Corazon, who he hopes to see again soon if there is any sort of afterlife. Then there’s you- with your uncanny ability to make him smile and laugh, your clever personality and friendly nature, all your strength and intelligence, and seemingly unwavering good morals. Law feels he barely deserves to have known you in this life, let alone fall in love with you as he has. Which is why he never shared his feelings with you or anyone, in all the time you’d been on his crew. Before this moment, he’d at least had the comfort of knowing there would always be the future, and therefore more time to open up to you figure out his feelings.

“How foolish.”

Law is just about to close his eyes- at least then it might be a more peaceful demise- when there’s a splash that breaks the surface of the waves. His eyes shoot wide open as he tries to figure out what it is, as it’s rather difficult to see clearly with his vision blurring and on the verge of losing consciousness.

All he can be sure of is that it’s a person. The light from above the waves surrounds their silhouette giving them an angelic halo, but simultaneously blocking out all their features from his view.

Law wonders, “Are you here to seal my fate? To ensure I don’t find some way out of this?” If he could, he’d ask that they do it quickly. Still, that painfully hopeful little part of his mind can’t help but come out in what are more than likely his last moments alive. “Or, are you here to save me? Are you gonna give me a second third chance at this? I don’t deserve it, but I will accept it. I’ll use it to do more; work harder, fulfill every goal. Confess to y/n.”

And that hopeful streak seems to take over his body as he uses his last iota of strength to reach upwards. Law’s angel continues swimming downward, but he can’t hold his breath long enough to see them reaching out to him, too.

His last thought is of you. He swears he can see your face on this mystery person as they get closer; your pretty eyes and lips, your hair swirling around your form underwater. Could it actually be… No, he doubts you’d even seen him falling overboard. But maybe he’s already dead, and you really are an angel. Law doesn’t get the chance to fully consider either reality though, as he finally blacks out.

-

“Gimme gimme gimme… a man after midnight…”

This is how Law taught you to do CPR on someone whose heart had stopped. Years ago, when you were struggling with keeping count of 100-120 beats per minute, he told you to “think of a song with the same count.” Most everyone’s go-to CPR song is “Stayin’ Alive.” But, you prefer the classic ABBA song. You pause every 30 compressions to administer 2 breaths, and as you remove your lips from his, a thought crosses your mind. “He looks so peaceful like this.” And even while unconscious, he’s handsome… angelic, even. Nevertheless, you’d much rather have an alive and annoyed looking Law than a dead and calm one.

“Is there a soul out there… Someone to hear my-”

Law coughs suddenly, and shoots up into a sitting position, gasping for breath.

“Law!” You throw your arms around his neck, nearly knocking the man back over.

And though he’s still catching his breath and coming to his senses, he lets you, and puts an arm around your back. “Y/n,” another cough, “what happened?”

You release him (much to his disappointment) and explain how the fight had ended soon after the crew lost sight of him; their captain. And, while the others quickly overtook the enemies, you dove overboard where you’d last seen him. It was pure luck, though guided by your intuition, that you found Law beneath the surface.

“Then I swam over here-“

“Which is where?”

You nod in the direction behind him. “Just around the bend from the harbor. The Polar Tang and the enemy’s ship can be seen from there, so I thought it’d be best to hide while you…”

“While I was dying.”

“Don’t say it like that,” you scold him with a frown, “you’re alive.”

“But I could have died.” Law says with very little pride. He sounds a little out of it, which makes sense considering the circumstances. “I could have died, and you saved me.”

“Well, any one of us would’ve, Captain-“

“Thank you, y/n.”

You shake your head bashfully. “It was no problem, really.” That’s a lie, and you both know it. The water in this part of the ocean is freezing, but through some incredible resolve that you hadn’t been aware of before, you pushed through it. For him. “So… We should get back to the fight, yeah?”

You move to stand up from your place on your knees, but Law stops you. With his hand on your shoulder, he pulls you back down to his side. “You said the fight is over?”

“Mhm.”

“Then let’s just… stay here, for a moment.”

He leans toward you hesitantly, though you’re not sure if it’s because he feels weak or he just wants you to hold him again. Either way, you wrap your arms around him and rest your chin on his shoulder. You hold onto each other with gentle force, and you feel him exhale deeply.

“I need to tell you something.” Law mutters.

You pull back enough to see his face. “Right now? Can’t it wait, Law-“

“I can’t want any longer.” And he really can’t. He’d tell you about how he had mistaken you for a living, breathing angel another time. For now, he just needs to fulfill his promise to said angel (to you?), and confess his love for you.

“Ok… What is it?”

Law is very straightforward as he says it. “I’m in love with you.” And he makes it impossibly hard to return to the battle when he asks that you never leave him in this life, like so many others have. Which you promise not to, of course, though it’s not exactly your decision. You tell him that you love him too, and in turn demand that he doesn’t die on you, either. Law nods against you.

The two of you stay there a while longer, in each other’s arms around the bend.

[lunarw0rks]

Rachel!!

the way you wrote "Interruptions" 🤟🏼😪-

I've seen what you've done for other people and I want that too.

Please sir can I have more Alejandro x f!reader thots and feelings.

Make it nasty only the way you do.

a/n: sorry, this has been sitting in my inbox for weeks. hope you enjoy what i decided to write! I had a plus-sized reader in mind for this, but it's not a major part of it. the language is still inclusive!

PACIFY | ALEJANDRO VARGAS

⊹。°˖➴ Synopsis: Hooking up with your ex means you're still separated, doesn't it?

⊹。°˖➴ Pairing: Alejandro Vargas x Fem!reader

⊹。°˖➴ Warning(s): nsfw (18+), exes to lovers, ex!husband!Alejandro, mild angst, smut, oral sex (r.), p/v (unsafe) sex, slight dom/sub dynamics, breeding, kinda??/talk of pregnancy, tension w/ happy ending | W.C: 2.6k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ ALEJANDRO MASTERLIST ──── ☆ read "Interruptions" here!

You tried your best not to think about him.

Not because of ill-treatment or the bickering. Your wounds were still too fresh. His schedule was too unpredictable, more than the gamble he took every time he left home. At first, you were convinced you could handle that life — wondering if your husband would come home in a body bag every time he ships off.

It was easier this way. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, the breakup was mutual. The phone call he got in the middle of the goodbye was ironic enough; yet another relationship milestone interrupted by his tireless career.

The low heels you wore clicked against the pavement; your brows furrowed as you reviewed an important email. The expression of disdain had become a permanent picture on your face ever since you two split.

You'd never admit it out loud, but you missed being taken care of.

Being alone wasn't all it was cracked up to be. And, because of your own stubbornness, you were reluctant to accept any more of his financial help. That meant rent and a search for better employment, which was no easy task.

But you got lucky today. An offer for a decent job; one you could budget properly with. With a chew of your lip, you pressed send and opened your car door, awaiting his reply.

You: Need to pick up my laptop.

The text was simple enough, but nothing ever was, was it? Instead of a message chime, your phone vibrated. His name flashed on the screen underneath 'incoming' and you could feel your eyes roll before you told them to.

Raising it to your ear, you huffed. Before you could get a word in, he spoke first. "It's nice to hear you breathe." Alejandro's voice comes through the static, reminding you of how audible your attitude had been. You didn't mean to be, but a text reply would have done the trick.

"Did you see my text?" You ignore his snide humor, tapping your fingers along your car window.

"Of course, I did. It's against the law to call my wife?" He chuckles and you feel as though he's with you; the mornings lying beside one another, his worlds tickling your eardrum.

Ex-wife, not wife. It wasn't official yet, but that was a habit you were still determined he break. "Do you know where my laptop is, or am I wasting my time, Alejandro?" You ask, shifting with impatience.

"Always so eager," he clicked his tongue, "it's in your old office. See? No need for dramatics." You rolled your eyes again, this time voluntarily.

As if he wasn't the mascot for melodrama.

You were completely dreading this short trip. For now, all you could rely on was the little voice assuring you you'd be 'in and out' of there within minutes.

It was only when you stood on the porch, that you realized you forgot to take the doormat as well. You urged yourself to remember that when you were out of here in five minutes. A petty realization, but a realization, nonetheless.

The oversized front door swings open, and there he is. "You don't need to dress up for me, amor. You hate me, remember?" He let out a tsk, shamelessly looking you up and down.

With a wave of your hand, you stepped inside without waiting for him to move. "I don't hate you, and you shouldn't joke about that, Ale." It was true; you didn't hate him, not even a little bit. His facetious humor was only amusing when it didn't inspire guilt.

Ignoring the pang in your chest, you said, "I had a job interview, hence the outfit." You glance at the living space, still familiar despite its void of all your belongings. "That's why I need my computer; then I'll be out of your hair."

His hair did look nice. Still silky and trimmed from a recent barber visit, you'd assume. His essence smacked you in the face, the suave cologne and aftershave — as if he'd cleaned up purely to tempt you.

Never would you give him the courtesy of admitting his success. Not verbally.

You walk toward the hall in the way of the office, but his arm stops you. Hovering over your abdomen, it's then you realize how close he'd gotten. "I put it on the table. Saves you the trip, no?" Another sarcastic comment. Big surprise.

"Ah, my savior, saving me the fifteen steps into the office," you match his tone, indeed spotting the laptop and charger left on the breakfast table.

It's not a bad favor, these heels couldn't have been less comfortable. He chuckles a bit, as if dismissing you, but never removes his arm. It lingers there, eventually giving your hip a squeeze. Not possessively, not carnally — it's an attention-grab.

"Forgive me, cariño, I know I've been..." He cuts himself off early, regathering his scrambled thoughts. "You look good. Today and— and always. I'm happy for you."

You raise a brow subtly, instinctively mellowing your voice. "For what? The job?"

"Something like that," Alejandro replies with a shield of vagueness, rubbing the flesh he'd squeezed. You hadn't moved despite how close he was. And it was more than the position you'd taken; so much more.

You open your mouth to retort again but fall short. "Listen, Alejandro..." He continued fondling your hip, slowing to a stop when you began speaking, tilting his head.

The rest of your words refuse to come out under the scrutiny of his warmth, and he knows it. You shift around a bit, feeling vulnerable the longer you stare at one another — how many words are being said with one abiding look.

His lips ghosted over your temple, the tip of his nose against your hair. Alejandro breathed in the scent of your shampoo, getting remnants of your perfume. Two smells he missed, more than he'd care to admit out loud.

By night two of you were gone your pillow was void of it. Right now, it was like savoring your scent all over again — while you were looking your best.

Your tense shoulders relaxed, falling into old habits when your head leaned against him. "I should be going," you breathed your words, a slight hitch in your breathing from the contact. It wasn't like the feelings and desires faded the moment you split; they were as fresh as the wounds.

A hushed dismissal enters your ear in a purr, sending chills across your body. His breath roams down the side of your face, wrapping around until it reaches your lips. “Do it for me.”

It’s akin to the first time you hooked up. His lips swallow yours, a moan escaping you when his tongue swirls around. You turn to face him fully and cup his cheeks, “we shouldn’t be doing this.” Despite your protests, you don’t fight another kiss.

“It’s our house, isn’t it?” You only nod into his shoulder, rocking your hips under his touch. Alejandro’s palms run down your shoulder blades to your tailbone, giving your rear a squeeze. “Answer me, cariño.”

"Yes." You whisper, pressing your lips against his jaw, urging his roaming hands to end their pause.

Caring about right and wrong fleeted to the back of your mind, while he moved to the front of it — consuming every passing thought you'd had of him for months.

His hands resumed after a hum of approval, while yours worked at unbuttoning the stuffy shirt you were wearing. Eventually, you gave them a yank, not paying any mind to the fabric fraying. The warmth from your skin could practically be felt, feeling free once you were left in a bra.

Through the kiss, he took steps backward while you followed at his mercy. He backed through the doorway of the master bedroom, keeping you connected by the lips.

The bedroom welcomed you, as did the bed you were being pushed into. Once sleek and cornered, now wrinkled sheets beneath you as you squirmed. “Missed seeing you like this,” his lips caressed your navel, traveling south as he pulled off your bottoms, rolling them down your legs.

He lay between them, giving glances through his lashes. His arms hooked around your thighs, keeping the squirms to a minimum. You reached down and ran your fingers over his hand, “Alejandro.” You weren’t sure why you said it either; he hadn’t even gotten started. It was more of a declaration than a gripe.

His stubble tickled along your inner thighs, hot breath on your core the closer he leaned in. “Do you want me to stop?” He sneered after you’d whined his name again, a smirk tugging the corner of his mouth. The answer was no, and you weren’t sure how to feel about that; it was like he had you under his spell all over again.

You despised being so weak for him, but that’s just how you liked it. Your body told the story, quivering and wet from the mere ghost of his breath on your heat.

“No, I don’t want you to stop. But, we—” You declared with the remainder of your willpower, and that was all he needed to hear. With the rustling of some sheets and a dizzying spin, you were on your stomach. Even after all this time, he managed to leave you stunned and needing more than what you were given.

He hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties and tugs at them, making you twitch from the intensity. After his direction, you’re on your hands and knees, gazing down at the familiar sheets. The hands redirecting you aren’t rough or mean; they’re salacious.

“The thorn in my side.” His chuckle is a mock, cut off a lick on your core. “If only she could see herself now.” Your reaction, as small as a shudder, did more than enough to prove his point. You squeeze the silky sheets, suddenly feeling the intensity of his mouth on your pussy. He angled himself underneath you, tilting his head to swirl around your sensitive clit.

You jolted forward, instinctively clenching your thighs shut. Alejandro’s buff hands worked quickly, prying them open once more so he could enter you with his tongue.

His head bobbed in a fluid motion, the messy slurps growing louder throughout the room. You couldn’t leave it at this; if you were going to be pathetic, you were dragging him down with you. Your attempt was risible when you said his name again — attempting to sound firm, despite ripping at the seams from only his foreplay.

A pitiful plea is muttered from your lips, halting his feral tongue. “Hm? You’re making demands now?” His tongue clicks and they are obvious jeers, daring you to roll over and slip your pants back on. But, of course, you didn’t. You were no match for his natural charm; the reason you were in this damn situation at all.

The stars must have been aligned that night because his banter didn’t worsen. His ferocious mouth ceased entirely, and several seconds passed with some shuffling around. For a moment, you were expecting to flip around and find him fleeing from his own bedroom.

Until his palm collided with your ass, a ceaseless sting radiating off the pricked flesh. Before you could do so much as a jolt, Alejandro clutched your hip to hold you in place. “You may boss me around out there, cariño—” his other hand gripped the base of his cock, abruptly filling you with every inch, “—but not here.”

If it weren’t for his fingertips digging like daggers, you would’ve fallen face-first into the mattress. His thrusts were sharp and paced, messily lubricated by his saliva that he hadn’t bothered to lap up.

You wanted to scowl at his cockiness. But he was right. If there were a mirror, you’d see how craven he turned you.

His hips clashed with your backside, a constant slap echoing throughout the room — and surely the rest of the abode. You mewled beneath him, figuring it was better to savor the pleasure while you still had it. There were few things that went right in your marriage; intimacy was one of them, no denying it.

Your body knew it, and deep down so did your mind. Though, even when he was deep inside you it was tempting to bicker, you knew you wouldn’t get much of a sentence out. Alejandro knew all of your sweet spots, which ones to caress and which ones to exploit.

When your back tensed into an arch, his length hit even deeper. “Ángel, what’s wrong? Can’t relax when I’m inside you?” He leaned forward, chest against your curved back to ensure his words resonated deep within your ears.

As much as you cursed yourself, you nodded weakly. The warmth of his breath on your ear disappeared. Following, his palm rested between your shoulder blades, nudging you forward until only your hips were raised; a position that left you an undeniably gladded mess.

He quickened his pace but continued to bottom out inside you, slinking an arm around to stimulate your clit. His fingers spread you apart, matching the whirlpool motion to the intensity of his thrusts. “You’re close, nena.” It nearly sounded like a warning; could have been, if you weren’t clenching around him so tight.

Considering he hadn’t hooked up with anyone in months, you were actively draining his restraint. His stamina prevailed — but his willpower? Not so much. Alejandro’s ab muscles constricted tight, burning from the strain of rutting into you. And you, currently enduring the clutter of an approaching climax; that coil tightening, the rough pads of his digits, his deep fill of you.

It all hit you at once, your fists balled into the sheets as you felt the sensations overtake you. Your walls quivered around him, propelling him into his own climax. As your ears buzzed, you faintly heard his raspy ramblings that he pumped through. His thrusts slowed but remained deep as you milked him dry.

Alejandro muttered a curse and pulled out of you, pressing a kiss to your jawline. Some things never change. As the pleasure fizzled, you recognized the tepid sensation of his raw finish. The repercussions of him finishing inside you should’ve been more daunting, but they weren’t.

You attempted to flip over but he’d quickly settled beside you, caging you with his chest against your back. “Was that okay?” He mumbled against your warm skin as wet lips pecked your shoulder a few times.

His voice alone nearly drew a shiver, growing especially hoarse during pillow talk. “Which part?” You breathed, instinctively tracing your fingers along his scarred arms. Your words were half sarcasm, while the other part of you was still catching up.

“Very funny,” you could feel his smile against your flesh, followed by the slight nip of his front teeth. “You know what I mean. This. Wouldn’t be so bad, hm? A family?”

Part of you wished a wave of regret would wash over you, with waves thick enough to thrash some sense into you. They never came. Something felt right about being tangled in bed again; foreign but right.

“No,” you murmured, catching the last of your breath. “It wouldn’t be. But, I thought you hated being bossed around? You think our baby wouldn’t do the same?”

Alejandro snickered and massaged the hip flesh he left slightly bruised, “Only by you.” You gave his bicep a light knock, and he physically saw the spark return to your eyes. The one you had before all the petty resentment and venom.

Whether or not parenthood was a fix meant little; there was no denying your chemistry.

If anything, tonight was a breakthrough — despite its unconventional beginning. Through all the new unknowns, there was one thing you knew for sure. You weren’t going anywhere.

₊˚⊹♡ ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ divider cred. - cafekitsune

[aajxs]

run , a.s

synopsis - the one where anakin lets you go, but not without a price.

pairings - anakin skywalker/darth vader x fem!jedi!reader

warnings - ANGST , obsessive/possessive anakin , violence , unburnt!vader (not really a warning but sum people don't like it) , jealous anakin , mentions of blood , the beginning is a lil suggestive , choking (not the fun kind) , mentions of death

w/c - 1.7k

a/n - part two to 'let me go', I think this one is much more interesting. this is unedited so if there are grammar mistakes, ignore them for my sake. enjoyy!!

part one , masterlist .

for the flashback — Dress by Taylor Swift

for the main part — Change (In the House of Flies) by Deftones

"Anakin, where are you taking me?" You laughed as your friend dragged you through the Jedi temple. He gave you no response, but your question was soon answered once you noticed he was taking you towards the men's quarters. "I'm not supposed to be on this side." You grinned as Anakin opened the door to his room and brought you inside.

"What were you doing with him?" Anakin mumbled as he closed the door with the swipe of his fingers. "Ani, you can't expect me to spend the rest of my Padawan years with only you." You said as you sat on his bed, that smelled so much like him. "What if that is what I expect." Anakin frowned as he stood a good length away from you with crossed arms and a tilted head.

"Anakin, he's only a friend. You'll always be my number one best friend, you know that!" You smiled as you got up from the bed and walked a bit closer to Anakin. 'I don't want to be just your best friend!' Anakin wanted to say, but instead he walked towards you and wrapped his strong arms around your waist

You hugged him back almost instantly, gripping the back of his long cloak in your hands. "Are you going to tell me why you brought me here?" You mumbled into his chest as you took in his scent. He smelled like vanilla, and just a hint of peppermint.

"Just didn't like the way he was looking at you." Anakin muttered as he craned his neck just enough to the point where his forehead was resting on your shoulder. If Anakin turned his head fully, his plump lips would touch your cheek.

You scoffed quietly, "And why would that matter to you, chosen one?" The sentence came out more shaky and breathily than you intended it to. The proximity was making you nervous, and you were worried that Anakin could tell. He hummed into your ear, "It doesn't," He lied, "I just know that the looks he was giving you weren't innocent." Anakin said, turning his head ever so slightly and planting a soft kiss on the side of your exposed neck.

"I don't mind. I think I deserve a little action." You said with a smirk as you repeated his action, attaching your lips to the side of his neck where you could reach. "Not from him." Anakin said as his grip around your waist tightened. He planted kisses down your jawline as he twirled your Padawan braid around his finger.

"Don't you think we should stop?" You questioned into his neck. He hummed in response, not paying any attention to your words as he began sucking on your neck. You tugged his hair to get his attention, making him back away from you slightly. "Anakin, we should stop." You said as you gazed up at him. "Why?" Anakin asked as he stepped towards you again, leaning closer to your face. Your eyes darted between his eyes, down to his lips, then back up. You were a hairs width apart, and you so badly wanted to kiss him.

Thinking back on it, you wish you did. Maybe if you confessed sooner, Anakin would have never done what he did. Maybe if you confessed sooner, you wouldn't be sitting here, restrained on a ship that felt a bit too far from home. You have no home now.

You didn't know where you were, but you no longer had your brown cloak on, only your Jedi robes. Your lightsaber was nowhere to be found, and your head was throbbing. Anakin should have just killed you in that temple.

Almost as if he heard his name being said, the door to the room slid open and Anakin walked in. "Wait out there." You heard him say to some clones before shutting and locking the door. You examined him, and the first thing you noticed was your lightsaber clipped onto his belt, right next to his own. The next thing you noticed was that the hood on his cloak was up, making it to where you couldn't see his face.

"Why do you—" You started, but you were quickly cut off. "You're bleeding." He muttered as he walked towards you, taking down his hood once he was standing next to you. He brought up his gloved hand, and went to wipe away some of the blood. You flinched away from his touch and gave him a glare, making him purse his lips. What did he expect you to do? Give him a kiss and tell him how much you love him after he just killed all your friends and then knocked you out with his lightsaber?

Anakin gave you a look before grabbing your jaw with one hand, and wiping your face with the other. "What are you doing?" You harshly asked as you stared up at him. "What does it look like?" He snapped back as he cleaned your face the best he could. "I'll clean it better later, can't stand seeing you bleed." Anakin said as he caressed your jaw. "You should have thought about that before you fucking hit me!" You said as you pulled at your restraints, only making them hurt worse.

Anakin let out a breath and took his hand away from your face. He began circling around the bench you were uncomfortably sat on and stopped behind you. "I'm gonna get you out of these, and if you try to run, it might just be the last thing you ever do." He muttered into your ear before he got rid of the restraints.

If you were dumb, you would've tried running or killing Anakin. But you knew Anakin, and you knew that he kept his word. "I would have never been able to get you on this ship if I didn't knock you out." Anakin said as he walked back around the bench and stood in front of you. "I hope you understand that I had to do it, it was for your own good." He said as he reached out towards your face to cup your cheek.

You got up and grabbed his wrist before harshly smacking him across the face. "You don't get to touch me!" You yelled as Anakin shoved you back down into your sitting position. You got back up, but you were almost immediately slammed against the wall that was next to the bench. Anakin's ungloved hand was wrapped around your throat, and your boots were barely touching the ground.

His grip around your neck tightened, and you could feel yourself slipping unconscious by the second. He only stopped once he realized you weren't even trying to get him to stop. You weren't begging for your life. You wanted to die, and he wasn't just going to give in.

Anakin let go of your neck, and you fell to your knees in front of him in a coughing fit. "If- If you're gonna fucking kill me, just get it over with Anakin! If I can't have the old you, then I don't want you at all!" You yelled as you looked up at him, your voice cracking slightly.

You got up and stood right in front of Anakin, "You think you're helping me?" You asked as you got into his face, now centimeters away. "You think you saved me?" Your voice raised slightly, and you shoved Anakin away from you. "Y/N.." he muttered, "I don't need your help Anakin! I never did!" You yelled, shoving Anakin again. "Y/N, stop-" He said, louder this time. "No! You don't get to baby me after you killed the only people I thought of as family!" You said, and just as you were about to shove Anakin one last time, he grabbed your wrists.

"Y/N, stop!" Anakin yelled, his grip on your wrists tight. He sat you back down on the bench and stared at you for a moment. You took a breath, seemingly calming down, and he let you go. "What do you want Anakin?" You asked as you looked up at him. "Did you come here to give me a kiss goodnight? Make me feel at home?" You joked, but your tone was angry. "If a kiss goodnight is what you wish for." Anakin said sarcastically as he paced around the room. "A kiss goodnight won't take away the pain you've put me through." You said, the images of your dead friends flashing through your mind, making you grimace lightly.

Anakin stopped pacing at your words. "This room is bland, do you want to be moved to-" Anakin started, but you quickly cut him off. "I don't want to be moved, I want to be set free!" You exclaimed, rising from your seat. "That wont be happening, you're too valuable." Anakin said as he turned to look at you. "Valuable to the Empire or valuable to you?" You questioned as you stepped towards Anakin. He gave you an unintelligible look before turning back around.

"When you leave this ship, you're no longer a prisoner, but a bounty." Anakin explained, stepping towards you and stopping you in your tracks. "You'll be hunted, but I know you. I know that you'll slaughter every dumb bounty hunter that decides its a good idea to go after you." Anakin said, stopping right in front of you. "Jedi don't slaughter." You said, your eyebrows now pinched together. "There are no Jedi anymore!" Anakin yelled, making you flinch at his outburst.

"You want to know something, Y/N? You can kill any bounty hunter, but you can't kill me." Anakin said as he gripped your jaw. "It wont just be bounty hunters after you, it'll be the Empire. The Sith. Me." Anakin said, "You want to know something, Anakin? You cant kill me either." You said with a knowing grin. "The worst part about this all, is that you still love me, and you know that you cant." Your smile faltered. He opened his mouth to protest, but closed it quickly. You're right.

"Get me a ship. That's all I want. You can hunt me, find me, kill me if that's what it comes down to. Just give me the chance to run and hide." You whispered, slowly raising your hands to cup his face. That was when you realized his eyes had turned back to their familiar blue.

"I'll get your ship, and ill get you out of here. But I cant promise your safety once you're out of this system. I cant promise that I wont do... damage once you're gone." Anakin said as he planted a kiss on your forehead. "Just get me out of here. Let me go." You murmured as you reached up and cupped Anakin's face.

"You want to know the worst part about this, Y/N? I do still love you."

© AAJXS

[puer-aurea]

i make mouthwashing oc and au (yes it is fix it au yes theres still angst) Part 1 (You are here) | Part 2 cw: uncensored jimbird beneath the cut </3 also im using james for his last name cz his id card looks like the last name starts w J and he seems to be a white guy

"BEEP!" The ship's detection alarm woke her up but she kept her eyes closed and didn't move from her nap spot in the cockpit. She figured when the robotic woman's voice kicked in it would simply point out a meteor in the path and that the auto-pilot would re-direct. "Wreck detected. Scanning ship." Well, that wasn't how that was supposed to go. She opened her eyes and looked to the screens that displayed the exterior surroundings. On the screen that displayed what was to the east of her, there was a Pony Express delivery ship. "Hahh, Pony Express? There should only be one ship out since they went out of business." She walked over to the cabinets and took out the search and rescue binder than listed all of the ships that would be active during the year of her trip and when they were estimated to arrive at their destination. "Identification found. V-I-N Number XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX. Analyzing damage." (i certainly dont know enough abt vins to make one up and i couldnt find if the pony express ship has one)

She flipped to the page that would have that VIN if it was in service that year and confirmed it was the only active Pony Express ship. "External damage: seventy-six percent. Survivability chance: thirteen percent."

She laughed internally. "No way any one on that ship survived knowing Pony Express. Might as well check anyway." She shrugged and sat back at the seat, turning the auto-pilot off and setting it to dock at the Pony Express ship's boarding door. The auto-pilot kicked back in with the ship's new instructions. After a moment of calculations, the ship began slow movements to dock.

She left the cockpit to put on her suit in case the inside of the ship wasn't safe to breathe. Or, considering it was a Pony Express ship, it could not be safe to touch.

"Docking success. Making connection."

The intercom voice sounded through the ship just as she put on her helmet. She made her way to the boarding door and checked over herself to make sure she was set while she waited for the bridge to finish connecting. "Connected." The doors to the bridge opened and she stepped out onto it. She waited for the door back to her ship to close to prevent any possible contamination before approaching the Pony Express ship.

"A code?! I have to input a fucking code to get in? They really were setting their workers up for failure." She scoffed. "No wonder they went out of business, if it weren't for the automation of large deliveries, it would've been the lawsuits that continue to increase even after they went out of business."

She took her pocket sized toolkit out and fumbled with it before getting frustrated and taking her gloves off. She messed around with the code input section until it the screen come off and she could get to the innerworkings. From there, it was more fumbling, tinkering, and swearing at the complexities. When the doors finally slid open, she let out a sigh of relief and prayed there was something worth her time inside. Whether it was people or valuables, she didn't care much.

She walked through the halls, taking note of the many mouthwash bottles and the foam. It was a good idea in concept, but Pony Express' execution and need to cut corners made it do more harm than good. She picked up one of the empty bottles of mouthwash and looked over it, taking quick note of the nutrition label.

"Jesus- that amount of sugar would kill an old victorian child. This isn't cleaning anything!" She tossed the bottle behind her and kept walking.

Most hallways and doors seemed to be completely foamed over or locked shut. She figured she could do a quick look over the easy access places before trying to get into any of those. As she got closer to what was labelled as the living area on blueprints she had seen, she heard hushed noises. She couldn't tell if they were people talking or random noises from the ship. When she entered the living area and looked in, she immediately noticed the three living people sitting together and they noticed her.

"Holy sh- I didn't expect there to be anyone alive in here!" She said in shock.

"We're saved!" A boy with light hair and dark roots shouted as he ran to her and hugged her.

"Daisuke! You can't just grab random people like that." An older, scruffier looking man yelled at him. "Sorry..." He said with a sheepish grin and let go of her.

There was footsteps behind her and she turned around to see a man who looked like the one listed for the Pony Express ship's co-captain on her documents.

"Who are you?" The presumed co-captain asked her in an accusatory tone.

"I am Captain Arabella and I work with the No Boundaries Search and Rescue team. I was on patrol and your ship appeared on my radar. The company provided documents lead me to believe you are the co-captain Jimmy?" Arabella held out her hand for a handshake.

"I'm the acting captain currently. Curly is in no position to lead." Jimmy told her matter-of-factly as he shook her hand.

He had a firm grip but it still seemed off. Certainly felt like someone who had the makings to be a captain but something made her feel like he wasn't a good one. She couldn't help but wipe her hand on her suit after he let go and she couldn't tell if it was from phantom dirtiness or actual dirtiness. "Well, you all can board my ship and I can redirect to the nearest planet. I'll notify the landing crew and they'll have medics ready to look at everyone by the time we land." She tries to give them a reassuring smile but the weight of the co-captain's eyes on her made her uneasy. "We really are saved!" The boy from earlier, Daisuke, pumped his arm in the air triumphantly.

thats all for now folks