#i learned how to waltz ONCE

[mychemicalmoonknight]

me and who? sorry, i meant me and who? sorry, sorry , i just meant- me an-

Kissing the back of someone’s hand? Hot. Calling someone “love” or “darling”? Hot. Saying you “fancy” someone? Hot. Tucking the other person’s hair behind their ear? Hot. Grabbing someone by the collar or tie to kiss them? Hot. Spinning someone back around into an embrace and/or kiss? Hot.

[ozzgin]

What if the Yandere school has some sort of event where they interact with students of the darling school and just like how our reader is a darling in the Yandere school they find a student of the darling school is a Yandere

You're an oblivious Darling going to Yandere School, and now you're paired up with...a Yandere hiding among Darlings. The absurdity goes on. Content: gender neutral reader, yandere horde, parody

[Yandere School] | [Yandere School 2] | [More Yandere]

He could immediately tell. You were a sheep among the wolves, and he was a wolf in sheep's clothing. He followed your movements with a predatory gaze, planning his approach.

He'd applied to Darling Academy out of sheer greed, hoping to find his soulmate. He searched, and stalked, and hounded, all in vain. Hell, he even had to repeat a year; it took him an ungodly amount of willpower to pass the damn kidnapping course.

"You're not surprised to discover your captor", the teacher had shouted, exasperated. "Unless you show me genuine shock, I cannot give you a passing grade"

"You can see her from a damn mile", he argued angrily, pointing at his darling classmate. She was supposed to simulate an attack, and he was to play the role of a clueless, helpless victim. Ridiculous.

Who would've thought his one and only was hiding in a Yandere School, of all places? So unforeseen, so unexpected, that he could not believe it to be anything but a fateful encounter. He glanced one final time at the enormous banner hanging against the school building:

"Annual Study Partnership Event: Yandere School x Darling Academy"

"You must be (Y/N). We've been paired together for the week. I'm in your care!", he beams cheerfully.

Despite his annoyance with Darling Academy, it proved to be somewhat useful in the end. Not only did it guide him to you, but it also polished his acting skills to near perfection. The teacher's office was guarded viciously given the previous attempts of the yandere students to cheat the system and have you on their team. Who would ever suspect a Darling? He simply waltzed in, scribbled his name on the event sheet, and left.

"I wouldn't be too excited", you confess, a little dejected. "I'm not...uh...the best yandere out there."

He pretends to sneeze, hiding the grin spreading across his face. Sweet, innocent thing that you are. Oh, don't worry your pretty head. He'll take care of everything.

The annual event consists of a week-long competition. A yandere student is paired with a darling counterpart, and the teams compete against each other for various activities. It's a learning experience for everyone involved, meant to hone the skills of a yandere and prepare the darlings for their future encounters.

First activity: tying up your darling.

Your eyes light up. For once, it's something you're good at. You hurry back to your partner, carrying the box filled with bondage rope, and nod towards the young man.

"Leave this to me", you state solemnly.

The timer starts, and you begin tying the knots. The yandere observes your process, completely infatuated. Your focused expression is downright adorable. Now, he could let you have your moment of victory. On the other hand...can he really waste this chance?

His fingers discreetly mess with some of the rope lying around. A little nudge here, another loop here. You're too absorbed in your work to notice anything.

You hear the bell and huff, exhausted. You wipe your forehead. This is it, the final touch. You hold onto the rope, and pull with all your strength. Suddenly you're dragged forward by an unseen force, and your face slams into your teammate's broad chest. You've tied the two of you together, somehow.

The other yanderes watch the display with a grimace.

(Y/N) is good with rope. This shouldn't have happened, they all think in unison. They glare at the darling pressed against you. Something isn't right. Is that man truly a darling? He feels more like a fellow rival.

"I'm so sorry", you sniff, humiliated.

He strokes your hair affectionately, reassuring you. It happens. The rope must've been faulty. You did your best.

He feels a cold shiver and tilts his head towards the bystanders, then smiles. It seems he isn't the only one who has fallen for you. Though he didn't expect it to be the whole school. Alas, what's life without a little competition?

"Come on, (Y/N). Let's get ready for the next part. I have a feeling we'll win this one", he says, winking at you playfully.

This must be the best week of his life.

[alastor-x-reader-stories]

"Bite Me" - Alastor x Reader

next

You were a strange addition to the hotel.

A quiet sinner demon with no merit to speak of who just waltzed in without much fuss or fanfare. No blowing up walls, no trying to kill anyone, no entertainment what so ever.

You were so boring, Alastor didn't even want to mess with you.

...

At first.

Then, quiet and unassuming, you slowly established yourself as both over-forgiving and sharply blunt.

It was amusing watching the whiplash on a demon's face when you flip between them so much in a single day.

Once, Angel Dust was high as a kite and practically lobbed a brick at your head. Your response was "No harm done, don't worry about it." later that same day, the spider-fellow draped an arm around Vaggie's shoulder and slung some sort of ridiculous insult. You moved his arm off of her and said "You need to learn to watch what you say or I'm ripping this arm off and shoving it down your throat."

Usually that last threat would lead to some other comment, but the flat way you said it and moved on to a different subject left the spider fellow standing there without much else to say.

How amusing!

Even he was no exemption from your two-faced nature, it seemed. One moment apologizing for accidentally blocking his path, the next informing him that you'd use his antlers as forks if he didn't leave you alone. Silly little threats that were oh-so pathetic when said by such a...underwhelming, individual.

Alastor's favorite of yours was 'I'm going to eat your kidneys'. Then how rude you were to decline the cooking lesson he offered!

Typically your quips and comments were about trivial things, little things that Alastor would purposely do in order to get a reaction.

THIS TIME, THOUGH

He had a particularly annoying run in with Vox one day, trudging back to the hotel with his patience already at its limit. Husk knew better than to comment on it, shying away from him as he prowled through the lobby. Angel Dust was at the bar counter, eyeing Alastor as he strode on through.

"Ya look like shit." He commented passively.

"Thank you ever so much for the keen observation." Alastor said with a smile. Husker flinched, ears dropping. It was only then he noticed you there as well, a forgotten drink in your hand as you gaze lingered on Husk, a frown setting to your lips.

The rest of that particular exchange wasn't of any significance. It wasn't until later when you sought him out in the Hotel's parlor things escalated.

"You need to calm down."

His grin hitched up and he leered down at you. You were more than a foot shorter than him and your big eyes did little to make you look more intimidating.

"I beg your pardon, dear?"

"I said you need to calm down." Your tail swished in agitation. "I get you had a bad day but that's no reason to take it out on other people."

Alastor chuckled "Oh goodness. My apologies, my dear. But you have absolutely no ground to tell me to do anything."

He back you up against the wall, hands planted on either side of you. His antler stretched out and his eyes took on the appearance of dials as he leaned down. Sharp teeth grazed your face, hot breath stung your eyes. Claws carved their way into the wall on either side of you.

"So, my dear, what was it you said? I'm afraid I didn't quite catch it."

"I said you need to calm down."

Alastor's eye twitched, his grin twisting into something so much more unhinged. No hesitation. Were you stupid?

A look at you said yes, but you knew damn well the danger you were in. You were trembling, pupils shaking breath shallow. But you still had the nerve to speak to him that way?

"All right, what if I don't?" He purred, tracing a claw over the side of your face "Go on ahead and let me hear whatever pathetic threat you have."

"I'll bite you." spoken in that flat tone of yours.

Alastor laughed "As amusing as always-"

Pain burst from his shoulder, sharp and sticky as fangs burst through flesh. Perhaps it was shock that had him stumble back, perhaps it was amusement that allowed you to get away from him. You opened your jaw, withdrawing your teeth from his shoulder as skin and cloth clung to the spaces between your bloodied fangs.

You gave him a pointed glare as your wiped some excess blood off of your face and prowled off without so much as giving him a second glance.

He had every right to hunt you down and rip apart your soul right then and there.

Instead he found himself losing his balance, falling onto his rear on the floor. Fingers curled over the fresh and large bite mark on his shoulder. The damn thing nearly covered the entirety of between his collar bone and his arm socket.

He pulled his hand away to stare absently at his own blood.

You must be venomous. That was the only way to explain why his heart was suddenly racing and his face suddenly felt far too warm. His breathing was off, shallow and uneven.

You actually bit him.

Were your threats actually not so empty?

Did you really intend to use his antlers as forks?

He laughed to himself, letting his hand drop back to his side. This was ridiculous! If you meant even half the strange threats you threw at him....then...

Well. He was in danger.

[timmydraker]

Tim Drakes parents were very traditional and overly proud of the fact that they came from old money.

They boasted about this in many ways for several years, but once their son was born they decided they would use him as a prime example of how they would continue the old ways they learnt.

Tim learnt things like piano and proper dinner etiquette before he was four, and learnt old Latin and French as a means to showcase his wealth and knowledge. They made him learn many things and luckily he enjoyed most of them, especially when it came to STEM and reading.

They also valued the arts and wanted him to learn as much as he could about architecture and literature.

When he showcased some knowledge for waltz and ballroom dancing, they decided he should do dance lessons.

This is where Tim discovered Ballet and fell deeply in love with the artistic and passionate form of dance. He began to study it around the same time he grew an interest in Batman, though he had yet to try get photos of the man.

Tim talked to his instructor and asked the older man about male dancers in Ballet and Mr Volkov was more that happy to help. Tim’s parents weren’t very in tuned with their son by that point and only cared that he was attending classes that were traditional, so they payed no mind to him learning ballet.

The skills he learnt regarding balance and core strength was greatly appreciated when he began to stalk Batman and Robin. He would do his warm up stretches while thinking about what patrol route the two would make that night, considering why Bruce Wayne chose to become The Bat while he counted each step 1, 2, 3, 4 with the music. He wondered to himself why Jason Todd became Robin when Dick Graysons motivations were much more obvious as he practiced and perfected sauté and focused on how his hands were placed, something he often forget was important.

By the time he became Robin he had been allowed to do several permanences, and was practicing for his role as Prince Siegfried in Swan Lake in just a few months.

It was one of his biggest dreams to play as the Prince in such an iconic performance, especially when he got along well with both Odettes dancer and Odile’s.

Bruce and Dick are excited for him, though Dick shows it better, and Tim is overjoyed to know that his parents will be in town when the opening night is. They say they’ll come and are proud of him for being in such a well known play and doing so in the traditional manner that the play was once made in.

Tim does wonderfully and Alfred organises for it to be recorded for them all to watch later.

Tim is greeted by them back stage after it ends and excitedly runs up to Dick to receive a huge hug. Dick is loudly saying how proud he is and that he’s so impressed his brother can do such an amazing dance. It’s the first time they’ve seen him perform and they were enamoured.

But Bruce looks tense.

“Bruce? Did… did you not like-“

Bruce cuts him off with a hug, “Of course I like it. Loved it even. It’s just…”

It’s then that Tim looks around and notices his parents aren’t there. They could have just gone home, but they wouldn’t give up a chance to boast about their money and successful heir.

Unless…

Tim looks down and tries to hold back his tears, “they didn’t show, huh?”

Tim can’t help but break down once Dick moves in to hug him, yet as Mr Volkov and some of his costars who are his friends come up and join them, he feels okay.

It’s not Janet and Jack, but it’s nice. It’s warm and kind and maybe that’s all that matters.

[sleepy-fiction]

Gold Ring.

-sebastian solace x reader

2k words

syn: he was a married man, yet he forgets when he's with you.

tgs: fluff, sfw (read a/n), sappy, feel-good, comfort, genderless reader

A/N: guys NO hate to Zerum at all. I just liked the idea of sebastian having a wife but learning true love and self worth from you. This fic is fluff sfw, but there are very mild dirty descriptions used sometimes. MDNI

Predator eyes loom through the darkened abyss. Sweaty, slobbering, hungry for a quench. He can't fight it. He knew you before you met him. He's seen the way you huddle to yourself, the way you persisted in this hell, the way you crawl to him whenever you're scared. How you count down the floors until you can rest-- on him.

He was the first once to make a move.

You bargained to sleep in his little room, yet you laid rest so far away from him. He didn't understand the flithy, possessiveness that growled in his hungry belly. It sent a pissed shiver from the tops of his head that rattled down to his tail.

He remembers the flinch you made at the sight.

He knows that he shouldn't, but fuck he wanted you closer then. No, he wants you closer, all the time.

He never knew romance until he pulled you over to him, the way he wrapped his tail around you like a snake. The way he blew it off with his typical banter, but God help him, the way he remembers your sleeping form carrying a smile throughout your dreams. Content- about him.

Times with his wife were never like this. He didn't know he was capable of feeling such intense desire. He's kissed, held, and he's lpved on and received. It remembers how the saying goes. If you love them, then you'd let him go. He went without a fuss here, content with the idea of his wife enjoying their freedom. But God knows, the idea of you, some inmate who waltzed into his life, leaving? No, it couldn't happen.

It was the pining that eventually sold his fate.

The yearning.

He'd find rocks the colors of your eyes to collect, most likely debris scattered from all the grubby inmates swarming the place just so he could keep something of yours nearby. Whenever he heard the echoing sounds of footsteps, the crawling through his vents, he perfectly memorized your sound yet still found his heart beating in hope even when he knew it couldn't be you.

He had grown overly accustomed to your dynamic. How you acted in playful defiance but respected him and his boundaries so much. He's never met an expendable quite like you, one not pushy- touchy- or downright evil. Even in a group setting, as you sometimes venture into a teams. You're always batting those pretty little eyes at him, saying thank you and apologizing on their behalf.

You're overly aware of him. Scanning his face, always checking for his contentment.

It was cute. You were discreet like a mouse.

For some reason, you had some staring problem. Always gazing with those eyes. So full of admiration for the brutish monster he had become. Those glances certainly didn't help him. You had to be some freak to like someone like him the way he is now. What about him could ever be attractive?

Don't think he doesn't notice the way you fidget in embarrassment whenever he tucks his hair behind his ears.

You get all shy when he gets close. You get shy whenever he escalates your banter- albeit painfully teasing you- but still-- it affects you.

He affects you.

That's a sensation that makes him question his self worth, and your character.

If someone as good as you finds him lovely. Then is he really? Could he really be...

His three blue hands.

Could they ever be loveable again?

It's that question that finally makes all the symptoms that has been building over the months of you being here finally click.

God he's.

He's falling in love with you.

He swallows thick, unable to read the document before his eyes.

Ba-dum, Ba-dum, Ba-dum

His heart races in his chest, his snaggle teeth gnawing against his lip, his eyes shutting impossibly shut. His hands fidget together, and the feeling of cold metal against (what used to be) his ring finger, and guilt swells in his belly.

He's in love with you. When all this time he was working hard to return to her.

He's in love with you. He heart yearns to leave with you and Painter.

He's in love with you. He doesn't feel the same about his wife. His identity is crumbling before his very soul, and it's terrifying.

His only anchor had been his wife the entire time.

His grip goes vice over his wedding ring. A ringing hiss, and a weeping cry flees his meekly throat.

He had a decent life. A woman who loved him.

But if this feeling he's feeling right now for you is love, then...

He shakes his head, his left hand slapping over his mouth, his right still coddling the ring on his smaller hand.

He can't.

He can't think that way.

In no magical universe will he ever get to have you. You'll leave here, he can see it now. It reflects in your eyes, it's this during gleam that no other expendable has.

He'll be left here to rot.

He needs to accept that and not get--

"Sebastian?"

His blood runs cold, his body jolting upright with a fury.

Fuck. He didn't even hear you enter.

A flashlight clicks, shinning at his belly.

He sees you.

You, who always calls his name so softly. So tenderly, full of respect and admiration. You who makes him feel like a person again. You who remembers things about him, you who points lights at his belly because you remember what hurts him.

He can't stop the tear that rolls out.

"Oh no," your voice dips heartbreaking soft as you set the flashlight down, "What's wrong, Sebastian?" You approach him slowly pausing in front of him with your palms up, asking with your body, with your eyes if you could touch him.

He laughs at you. The sound croaks in bittersweetness.

He leans down to your hands, resting his face in your palms. You're so warm, it makes his heart flutter. "It looks you've caught me at a bad time," he says sing-songly.

Your eyes are full of understanding, the way you smile. "Seems so," you say, brimming to see he was okay. You're giving him space, he hates how he begins to yearn.

He can't help it when you're like this.

Sebastian strains.

"Everyone needs to cry sometimes, especially in this place. I cry, too. A lot." You whisper.

But you're still smiling.

God.

He hates you.

He giggles. The sound is so out of character, so school-girlishly giddy. "Fuck," he grimaces as he burries his cheeks into your palm. He knows he cannot physically blush anymore, but he still feels the shame.

He's turning soft.

Soft for such an airhead.

He swallows nervously, looking up to peer into your eyes. You're admiring him again. Your shifty pupils drag up and down his features again and again and again like a broken record. Holding your lips agape, and sucking in swallow breathes, as if the faintest movement from every breathing too intensely would disrupt the view.

He can't take it.

His hands shoot out for you, one on your hip, the other around your waist, the final caressing your back. You squeak as he pulls you completely into him, your feet rising from the floor. You rest your head dazily on his shoulder, as he slithers onto the dark, farther away from your abandoned light.

When you finally stopped moving, you could feel a wall behind Sebastian, as you straddled a leg on each side of his tail, your knees against the floor.

"Sebastian? I can't see you," you whine.

"You don't need to look at me..." He hushes.

Your hands find his cheeks, they're all warmed up from you.

"I need to," you lean in closer, rubbing your nose against his nostril slits. His breath shudders.

"Pull it," He whispers.

You already know as you reach and pull his antenna. A dim warm light illuminates his face, and you smile contently.

Your hands parade through his hair, tucking the strands of his hair back away from his face on both sides; the way you've seen him do many times before.

You've forced him to admit it now.

He's something worth gawking at.

Even like this.

Embarrassment is a surprisingly delicious taste for his belly.

You slide back in his arms, as his hands lean back and fall to his side. All except for his right, which cups a healthy amount of your hip to keep you steady on his tail.

Now it's his turn to admire you.

"Hmm, pretty thing," He mumbles. His smaller hand reaches up your body, his gold ring flashing in the eyes of both of you.

He tenses.

You notice. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you lean in closer to him.

"Sebastian." You blink, empathy driving your veins.

He already knows.

"I used to have a wife. Long before... This happened to me," He whispers it to the air.

Now it's your turn to feel a deep pang in your heart. You know you shouldn't say it, but the words burst out, "Did you love her?"

You watch as a strained smile pulls at him, "N-Not... Not as much as..." He swallows abruptly, "yuh... Y-You."

It all clicks for you.

He's sad over guilt?

You giggle-- and it's almost as painfully giddy as the one he let out before. But it's not enough as thr giggle turns into a laugh. The sound is bright and refreshing to his ears, like rays of forlorn sunshine kissing him. He can't help the way his ears twitch in pure glee.

He'll drink up this sound forever.

"Little cheater," you giggle into his skin as you kiss his cheeks.

He's deeply affected by this! It's not funny!

"Hey." He can't seem to reprimand you, though. "Bastard," He hushes.

You break away finally. And before you could lean in to plant more kisses, his free hands are on you again. Trailing up your body, up your chest (with him seeming to slow down a bit for that part), then to your shoulders, to roll down to your lovely hands. Lovely hands that he moves to place on his meaty chest.

"Come here," he finally commands, and it's like your knees go weak. The two of you meet in the middle, your lips melting into one another like starved animals. The way you nip and howl in between fervent friction-- friction unknown tp you both since entering this hell hole.

His kisses are filled with longing, desire, full of shivers, full of breathy moans. Sensations that send waves of shivers down to the tips of his tail.

You pull apart to suck on his bottom lip, and with a grunt, Sebastian's mouth cracks open obediently. His large tongue rolls out of his mouth and deep into yours. It's stuffiness enough to make you choke if he wasn't so careful- and if the feeling wasn't so erotic.

Your little alien.

You caress his face all over, your fingertips finding his twitching ears. You pull apart with a hearty smack of the lips, a thin trail of saliva rolling out from you from his large tongue. He picks it up before it could fall to your chin, a satisfied hum from him.

You kiss his round jaw, thumbs caressing circles into his under eyes.

"I love you," Sebastian kisses it into your skin.

"I love you too," you sigh wholeheartedly. You lean in and kiss his tiny third eye, and he hums sing-songly.

Your arms slide around his neck, burying your face into the crook of his jaw, relaxing your body deep into him with a sigh.

You two were so peaceful. You barely noticed the sagging lethal drowsiness in your veins. You haven't slept in... Haven't slept in....

Snorrreeeee...

Sebastian laughs at you. You fell right asleep, just like that? His tail wraps around you like a snake, as his kisses make themselves known to your forehead.

"Goodnight, expendable..." He snickers.

And the gold ring slips from his finger.

To have a future with the benefit of you being there, it's more than just a dream come true.

You accepted him.

He can accept himself, too.

[qlossytbh]

𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞? - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 where you find yourself with immense baby fever

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 baby fever, fem!reader, fluff fluff fluff, established relationship, reader and spencer are married, hotch x platonic!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 1.5k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 so i imagined older spence but younger jack so pretend jack is around 3 or 4 but spence is like around season 7/8 (?)

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“All I’m saying, you could’ve been a little nicer,” You turned to Morgan with a rigid sigh. If he didn’t know you better, it’d probably sound like you were deeply annoyed with him, on the verge of cursing him out. He knew you were only regarding the events of today's case.

“I think you’re mixing ‘being nicer’ with tough love,” You deadpanned at your friend, earning nothing but his signature snicker.

You shook your head, feigning that of disappointment. You rolled your shoulder back, craning your neck slightly to scan the files that rested between your fingers. God, how many files could one see in a day?

It was a few hours past midday when the case came to an end. Hotch had a sudden dilemma that he needed immediate solving, so he told all of you to make it back to headquarters. You and Morgan however, had been stuck together for the day and made it back a lot earlier than the rest of the team, prompting the two of you to get some necessary paperwork done.

You needed a day off— especially from Morgan.

The bullpens doors opened unexpectedly, drawing you and Derek out of your conversation. You turned, seeing the rest of the team waltz through the glass door— only this time, they were accompanied by a pair of small legs.

You couldn’t stop a reflexive smile from growing onto your face. “Is that who I think it is?”

Jack waddled into the bullpen, one of his tiny fists bundled up onto a small section of Hotch’s dress pants. You could’ve screamed, a reaction that was becoming more necessary every time you saw a kid, and most definitely when you saw Jack.

At the sound of your cheery voice, Jack looked up, biting onto his knuckles— something you learned was a sign of his bashfulness.

But when he realized it was you who was standing next to Morgan, his face immediately morphed into one that could only portray pure and innocent child joy, looking as if he couldn’t be happier to see you. Nothing could compare to how ecstatic that made you feel, chest getting fuzzy with endearment. Hotch placed his palm onto the back of his head. “Look who it is!”

You've taken care of Jack too many times you lost count, given since you and Hotch were close— practically family. You adored Jack and found yourself being struck with some newfound motherly instinct when it came to him— or any kid for that matter. He always gave you this very violent need to squeeze his cheeks and hug him so tight he might pop.

“Is that little Jackie?” Your voice was high and welcoming, trying to hide how utterly joyed you were with seeing him and failing miserably. Jack immediately pushed himself off of Hotch’s leg and began running towards you.

Well, he more so waddled his way over to you, small feet pattering roughly against the floor as he ran over to you in an unstable line. You met him halfway, crouching down and opening your arms for him. When he was close enough, he launched himself into said arms, voice loud with giggles and shrieks. “If it isn’t my favorite boy!”

You squeezed him tightly, rising once again to your natural height and hugging the small toddler. Morgan, of course, didn’t miss a beat to taunt. “Careful, Reid’s listening.”

“Oh please,” You rested Jack on your hip, keeping strong secure arms around him while he gripped the ends of your hair curiously. “Spencer knows that Jack comes first no matter what, isn’t that right Jack?”

“Yeah!” He laughed.

Spencer couldn’t keep in a single thought as he watched you interact with Jack so naturally. It twisted his chest in weird, scary ways. If it were anyone else he’d be terrified. But it was you. And he now found his head lingering with the idea of you as a mother— the mother of his children, specifically.

It was a conversation the two of you had once, very briefly a few months after you two got married. Spencer had been meaning to get back at it, but with the chaos of your jobs it had been really hard to think about anything other than serial killer and criminals.

But fuck, if Spencer said that seeing you interact so carefully and sweetly with not only Jack but many other children that had stumbled up on these last few cases— he’d be the biggest liar on the face of this earth.

Just the thought of starting a family with you was something that filled him with anticipation. It made his chest burn. Something he craved so deeply, it sometimes left him breathless.

“You’re getting so big and strong that I’m beginning to have a hard time lifting you up.” You huffed, setting him down onto the ground and crouching beside him. “You’re gonna give me back problems.”

“Derek says it’s because you’re getting weak!” His R’s were disguised as muffles W’s, which only caused your heart to clench further. A choke disguised as a strained laugh left your mouth.

“Is that so?” You turned over to him with a glare. Morgan scratched the back of his head and turned on his heel avoiding you and your piercing gaze.

“But who’s your favorite; big old chiseled Derek, or little weak me?” You squint your eyes at the boy, pursing your lips feeling very confident in his answer.

And to no one’s surprise did Jack point towards you and with a huge, wide smile laughed out. “You!”

You laughed victoriously, holding out a palm for Jack to clap. “Yeah, that’s right!”

“Oh, come on,” Morgan groaned.

After one last hug from the child, you ushered Jack over to Hotch, shooting an endeared smile towards him. God, you loved that kid so much.

JJ, Prentiss and Rossi made their way to the conference room. You look ahead, meeting the gaze of your husband and smiling profusely. It was a subconscious reaction your body had. You found yourself meeting Spencer halfway. “Hey,”

His hand rested on your hip as he leaned down, kissing you chastly. Spencer would’ve loved to actually take his time greeting you with a much proper kiss, but it was a middle ground the two of you found between professionalism and well— being married.

His hand, however, remained on the spot on your hip, thumb drawing circles instinctively. It was subtle, but his touch was still there. Your smile was big and lovestruck, looking up at him with soft eyes. “Hey,”

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, Jack's laughter ripped through the air as Hotch lifted him up. You and Spencer turned and you swear you could almost cry.

It was as if lately, when you allowed yourself to think even slightly about the concept of children you’d combust into a pool of tears and overbearing endearment. Spencer watched you looking over at Jack and noticed something pooling beneath your eyes.

You looked back at Spencer, lips tied in a pout. “I want one.”

“A baby?” He tuned, laughing slightly at how your body sunk against his, resting your forehead on his chest in exasperation.

“Yes,” You pushed yourself off his chest, throwing your hands around as you spoke. “The small hands, small feet— I swear everytime I see a baby, I get violent.”

You pouted. “Imagine a mini us Spence,”

And Spencer did. He thought about it in such detail that he forgot it wasn’t an actual reality of his. A little girl or boy, that resembled either of you, that held so many fractions and traits of the two of you— it seemed unreal to him.

“A mini us?” He repeated. You looked up at him.

“Well— yeah,” You reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean, we haven’t really talked about it but..”

Spencer wanted kids more than he had ever wanted anything before— but he knew that he only wanted it if it was with you. He couldn’t phantom the thought of starting a family with anyone else.

“We should,” He spoke. Your fingers played mindlessly with the bottom of his tie, looking up at him with a teasing smirk.

“We should talk about it or we should try?” A blush crept up his cheeks as his eyes widened just slightly. You always found ways to catch him off guard and you loved getting even the slightest reaction out of him.

“Uh—“ He dragged out his words, before his eyes landed back on you. “Both?”

You laughed and he smiled. He always smiled when you laughed, he couldn’t stop himself from doing so. You reached down, tangling your fingers with his. “I’m serious though,”

He hummed. “So am I.”

“You actually want to start trying for a baby?” This seemed like a conversation that was far too intimate to be having in the middle of the bullpen— where you usually discussed varieties of atrocious things, but here you were I guess.

“Yeah,” He said, almost in disbelief that you had questioned it. You found yourself growing oddly shy, just thinking of a small version of the two of you running around.

Before you could continue on the subject, Morgan, who now held Jack on his shoulders, was calling you and Spencer over to the conference room. You turned to Spencer, smiling softly.

“Can we get back to this once we get home?”

“Please,” He breathed, leaning forward and pressing a longer kiss onto your lips. You grew giddy and smiled into the kiss, pulling away sooner than both of you would like.

“I love you,” You smiled. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and placed a loving kiss on your forehead.

“I love you.”

[tiredeyesight]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ in your mind (mattheo riddle x fem! reader)

summary : mattheo riddle, your sworn enemy, forgets about your ability to hear others thoughts

mattheo fucking riddle, waltzes into the class as if he owns the place. that stupid smirk and knowing eyes that he could do anything for salazars sake and not get into any trouble. flitwicks dismay is obvious, yet he does nothing but instruct riddle to take a seat just behind you. now your dismay was obvious, riddle had been your sworn enemy for as long as you could remember however you couldn’t really remember why.

‘oi y/l/n, what’re we doing?’ riddle questions you. ‘come on time and focus to find out’ you respond and for some odd reason there was no sarcastic comment or any insult thrown your way. just silence from mattheo. despite your normal dislike for your abilities to hear other’s thoughts, you used it. just this once.

voices boomed and echoed through your head, clashing together and combining until you focused in on one particular annoyingly attractive voice. ‘god why does she have to be so pretty’ you hear from the same voice that had called you a multitude of opposing mocks. surely he wasn’t talking about you. ‘her hair is so gorgeous, looks so soft, i just wanna play with it ugh.’ to confirm you weren’t dreaming, you dropped your pencil and turned your head. all you saw was his dark, rich brown eyes completely focused on you.

‘i always forget how beautiful her eyes are, this lighting doesn’t do them justice.’ and there was your confirmation.

for the rest of the lesson, you couldn’t focus on the work only on the handsome yet annoying boy behind you who hadn’t stopped thinking about you. as the bell rings you shove your items away in a haste determined to learn more about this admiration for you. the halls become flooded with kids rushing to get to their dorms or the hall for a quick snack before dinner yet all you were focused on was mattheo riddle.

he turned into a quiet hallway and you followed suit, your presence becoming known to him. ‘what are you doing here?’ he asks with irritation in his voice, a very fake irritation as all he could think about was ‘i want her so bad’. you walked closer towards him with a small smile plastered on your face, almost chest to chest and whispered the words, ‘for being someone you hate, i’m sure on your mind a lot’.

a blush rose to his cheeks, ‘i don’t know what you’re talking about.’ a continuous, ‘fuck fuck fuck, i forgot she can hear peoples thoughts’, jostled through his mind. a small giggle arose from your sweet lips and that’s all it took for mattheo to completely fold. ‘christ all right, you caught me’ he started, ‘im like head over heels for you, even with our little fights it makes me fall more in love with you every single time. you’re just so gorgeous and so kind, the complete opposite to me yet im totally obsessed with you.’ a smile that you had never seen before appeared on his face.

you were in complete shock, this was almost the last thing you expected from him of all people. mattheo riddle. yet you couldn’t ignore the way your stomach exploded in flutters by his words and how you suddenly became speechless. ‘can i kiss you’, you uttered out after moments of silence. ‘please.’

author note : i feel like this may be the most common thing ive ever wrote but hey it’s common for a reason so live laugh love i guess. and as always requests are still open!!

word count : 557

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

BEG!

Tags: Satoru x fem!Reader, nocurse!au, misogynistic!gojo, college!au, reader puts him in his place, CRACK do not take this fic seriously, enemies to lovers, suggestive, mdni

Synopsis: Satoru is a stupid alpha bro who’s misogynistic and a play boy in a fraternity at your college. He learns that he can’t walk all over you, and that turns him on.

An: Thank you to everyone who commented on that post and encouraged me to write this! I didn’t think you guys would eat it up like you did 😅 I thought this would be a smutty one-off, but I actually wanted to try and make it into something a little more meaningful; hence why it took a bit longer to post. This is only part one :)

The party. |

His house screamed wealth and overconsumption at every corner. Money was obviously frivolously spent with building and furnishing the Gojo fraternity house. It was sleek, modern, but still a devastating bachelor’s pad.

The Gojo fraternity held parties every day of the weekend, including Sunday. Women got in for free, and men had to pay 5 dollars to get in. Not that Satoru needed the money — he was disgustingly wealthy and a trust fund baby. He merely charged guys money that way no one below his standard could just waltz into his frat house.

Of course, he truly believed every other man in the frat house was below him in some way. He had the full package: smart, funny, rich, handsome, a dick that should be registered as a legal weapon.

It was no wonder that women was never an issue for him. He found flirting with them to be like child’s play. It’s just too fucking easy…. pun intended. He and Suguru once had a challenge to see who could pick up the most women in a single night. Satoru ended his night after fucking 9 women in a single night, and one of those events was actually a foursome between him and three girls at once.

Honestly, he could be so much worse. With a witty personality and a mouth that just won’t shut up, he could talk his way into or out of anything.

It’s a Sunday night, which usually isn’t a big turn out for the party at his house since everyone has class the next morning. Plus, all homework is due at 11:59pm on Sundays. But this turn out was just embarrassing, there was merely 10 people all sat in his living room.

Suguru already had a girl in his lap. Everyone was giggling about something. Satoru felt like he had a chip on his shoulder, he wasn’t the center of attention right now, so he had to fix that.

Plus, there was a pretty girl in the room who he wanted to impress.

Sitting down in front of you, Satoru grins and hands you a cup undoubtedly of liquor. “Here you go, sweetness. Have one more.” He encourages, knowing that it’d be easier to chat you up if you’re a little buzzed.

“Oh, thanks.” You smile politely, and you fake taking a drink out of it. You’ve heard the stories about Satoru, and there’s just no way in hell you’re drinking something he gives you.

“What are you all talking about?” Satoru asks with a casual grin, and he takes a sip of his own drink.

“Oh, just how dumb Andrew Tate is.” A nobody responds from within the group.

“What? He’s not dumb…” Satoru nearly pouts as his favorite starboy was being harshly criticized by his friends.

“Oh god, don’t tell me you like him.” You say with disgusted look on your face as you eye Satoru. Now, you’re definitely not drinking whatever he just gave you.

Satoru’s face twists in defense as you so boldly speak up about his interests. It’s clear to you that he’s offended, but he’s trying not to make a big deal out of it.

“Why? What do you think is so bad about him?” He retorts as he cocks an eyebrow, leaning back in his seat to try to appear as confident and collected as possible.

“How about how he treats women like shit?” You ask, raising your own eyebrow. Satoru has another thing coming if he thinks you’re just going to bow down and not argue with him because he’s rich.

“He doesn’t treat women like shit-? Where are you getting your facts from?” Satoru argues, and his jaw tightens a minuscule amount. It’s bad enough that he’s being challenged, but he’s being challenged by a woman.

“His literal interviews, and the video of him literally beating a woman?”

“That video was just a sex act without any context.” He dismisses, rolling his eyes and not dispelling any claims about the interviews.

“Bitch, is that what sex sounds like to you? Because you must not be doing it right if she sounds like that.”The room erupts into laughter, and Satoru’s face only makes it better. His pale skin is becoming a little flushed. His eyebrow is twitching slightly with anger.

He takes a breath before quickly recovering. He hasn’t forgotten his objective tonight is to sleep with you. His signature smile returns to his face, and he leans in slightly. “I don’t know. Why don’t you come teach me how to do it right?”

“As if. I’d rather grind my pussy against a cheese grater than fuck an Andrew Tate fan.” More laughter breaks out amongst the small group of people.

Satoru’s jaw drops as he looks at you with disbelief. You’d rather… grate your cunt than sleep with him? “Oh yeah? So, what kind of guy piques your interest then, princess? You probably like those woke emasculated guys. Suguru might be more up your alley.”

“Hey, what the fuck?” Suguru laughs, chunking an empty beer can at Satoru’s head. The girl in Suguru’s lap continues to mindlessly giggle and play with his hair.

“No, I like men who are calm and capable. Maybe a guy who can lead but also knows when to take the backseat.” You explain, eyes wandering over Satoru’s stature. “I like them funny and kind.”

“See? I’m just what you need, princess. I can do all those things and so much more.”

“Yeah? You’re going to take the backseat sometimes?” You challenge with a knowing smile on your face. You already know what type of guy Satoru is based off of this sole interaction — plus all of the horror stories of how he’s a modern-day Casanova.

“Princess, the only time you’ll need me to take a backseat is when you’re riding that pretty pussy against my face.” His cerulean eyes gleam against the LEDs in the room. He’s fully confident that will win you over.

Your face stays completely flat. You don’t even crack a small pity smile for him. “Oh sorry, was this meant to be the part where you’re funny?”

Satoru looks at you, and you see a small twitch in his eye. He’s never had someone match his wit or his sass before. You were the perfect challenge for him — his perfect match up.

He tips his red solo cup up until his finishes the rest of his drink. Fuck sleeping with you. He wants to make you beg for him to fuck you while he just laughs in disinterest. You’re his mission now.

“You’re cute, princess.” He finally comments before getting comfortable in his chair again. “You don’t have to act like you don’t want me. ‘s okay. No one here will blame you.”

Your arms cross over your chest, and your lips curl into a frown. As much as you want to pretend to be unbothered, your face can help but show the irritation you feel from him. He’s unwavering, thinking that he will just argue and flirt his way to winning you over.

He needs to be humbled real quick, and you’ve got nothing else better to do.

“Oh really? Thank god. I’ve been dying to get on my knees and suck the most mediocre dick of my life.”

“You have the wrong guy, sweetness. I’m anything but mediocre.” He retorts without missing a beat.

By this time, most of everyone has stopped paying attention to you two — used to Satoru’s antics by now. This is just another Sunday night for him — chasing pussy as per usual.

“Yeah? Any guy who constantly boasts about how good they are in bed usually isn’t good at all.” You respond with a small eye roll.

Satoru’s strong arms cross over his chest. He’s wearing a simple white shirt with some black pants. It’s overwhelming plain, but it compliments him so well since his appearance is striking enough as it is. “I never boasted, princess. I simply stated that I wasn’t mediocre.”

You let out a small scoff and shake your head. It was honestly arguing with a brick wall. “Semantics. Either way, I don’t want to fuck you.” You dump your liquor out into a potted plant that’s next to the couch.

Wondering why you even decided to come to this stupid party, you stand up, and Satoru follows suit. “Hey now, darling. Come on. Don’t leave now. The night’s still young.” He tries to smooth things over as he takes puts his hands up in surrender. “I promise I won’t call out the obvious sexual tension between us for the rest of the night.”

“I have more sexual tension with your fake houseplant that I dumped my liquor into.” You deadpan, gathering your things as you decide that a cozy night in would be better than this mess.

Walking outside the house after everyone wishes you goodbye, you let out an audible sigh as you hear the door open and shut once more behind you. You spin on your heel to find Satoru jogging up behind you.

“Did I ruin your mood that much?” He asks with a small smile, shoving his hands into his pockets as he falls in step beside you.

“Well, following me home is certainly not giving you any bonus points.” You retort, tugging your jacket a little bit closer to your body. “Besides, that’s not really my scene.”

Satoru glances over at you as the two of you walk. He finds himself hypnotized in the way your skin glows in the moonlight. He would be lying if he tried to convince himself that you weren’t pretty because you are. Gorgeous — in fact.

“Really?” His voice is a shade softer now that he doesn’t have everyone’s eyes on him. “You seemed like a natural in there.”

You shrug your shoulders, not offering up any more information about yourself to him. He’s just another misguided frat boy with no intentions to change who’s looking to hit.

Satoru hates silence almost as much as he hates not being the center of attention. He hates how you’re not giving in even the slightest for him

“We should go out to dinner together sometime. I think you’d be surprised on how well I can fit in to any scene.” He offers, not quite giving up on hope just yet. He’s determined to get you in his bed, genuinely deluding himself that it would be a favor to you and him.

“No thanks.” Your voice is blunt as you step toward the entrance of a girls’ dormitories. Satoru’s technically not allowed inside at this late of an hour, but he’d be amused to see who would try and stop him. His family is the top donor of the university. He practically owns this place.

He stands there baffled for a moment as you turn down his date invitation. Rejecting his sexual advances is one thing, but you won’t even give him the time of day.

“So, when can I see you?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed and lips curled into a small pout.

“You’ll unfortunately probably see me in class.” You respond, letting the door close behind you and checking to make sure it locked. Breathing a sigh of relief, you trudge your way up the steps to finally get away from that leech of a man.

Satoru stays at the door for a moment, contemplating following you inside — not for any nefarious reason. He just truly believes that you’d like him if you gave him the time of day. One of his many charming qualities is that he can talk anyone into enjoying his presence.

He had already made up his mind. You’re going to like him. You’re going to sleep with him too and like it, and he’s definitely not going to catch feelings for you so he can make you feel as embarrassed as he did tonight.

He’ll just have to set his plan in motion during class.

[koyagifs]

𝓽𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽

pairing: pirate!seonghwa x princess!reader au: pirate au genre: angst with happy ending word count: 9.3k synopsis: she refuses to be wed to someone she doesn't love. Her last resort? to run away with the pirate that stole her useless crown. warning(s): toxic family relationships, screaming match. cursing. please let me know if i miss anything else!!

" don't go to far, please - the last thing i need is a headache from one of you," Hongjoong spoke, mainly looking at Wooyoung and Yuna who held a sheepish smile.

Hongjoong sighed as he crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on Wooyoung and Yuna. They both wore matching sheepish grins, looking like kids caught sneaking cookies before dinner.

"I'm serious," Hongjoong continued, his tone firm but tinged with a familiar exasperation. "Just stick to the group and don’t make me come looking for you. This isn’t the kind of place to mess around in."

Wooyoung, ever the troublemaker, raised his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, Captain. We’ll behave. Scouts’ honor."

Yuna nudged him playfully, suppressing a laugh. "You’ve never been a scout a day in your life."

"Details," Wooyoung quipped with a grin.

Hongjoong shook his head, muttering under his breath about regretting every decision that led to this moment. “I mean it, Wooyoung. No wandering off, no dumb dares, and definitely no—”

“Hongjoong, we got it!” Yuna cut in with a giggle, grabbing Wooyoung’s arm to pull him toward the others. “Come on, let’s not give him a real headache.”

As the pair walked off, Hongjoong pinched the bridge of his nose. Seonghwa chuckled as he walked up to his captain, " i'm sure they'll find trouble one way or another,"

Hongjoong let out a weary sigh, his shoulders sagging as he turned to face Seonghwa. "That’s exactly what I’m afraid of," he muttered, his tone a mix of frustration and resignation. Hongjoong shook his head as he walked back to the ship, mumbling under his breathe as Seonghwa laughed.

Yeosang and Luna came with a wide smile placed on their face, " we'll keep an eye on them. Shouldn't be to hard since cap just want's to rest up for a little."

Hongjoong glanced at Yeosang and Luna, his expression skeptical but hopeful. "You two?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "You’re volunteering to babysit them?"

Yeosang nodded, his ever-calm demeanor unshaken. "It’s better than letting them run loose. Besides," he added with a faint smirk, "how much trouble can they really get into in one evening?"

Luna grinned, hands on her hips. "Don’t answer that, Captain. We’ve got this. You go rest before you stress yourself into an early retirement."

Seonghwa chuckled, falling into step beside Hongjoong as they headed toward the ship. "See? Delegation. You’re learning."

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, though the hint of a smile crept onto his face. "Fine," he relented, pointing a finger at Yeosang and Luna. "But if I hear even one yell, crash, or scream, you’re both cleaning the whole deck tomorrow."

"Deal," Luna chirped, giving an exaggerated salute. "Come on, Yeosang. Let’s make sure the chaos twins don’t set anything on fire."

As they headed off in Wooyoung and Yuna’s direction, Hongjoong let out a long breath. "I’ll take what peace I can get," he muttered, heading for the ship’s cabin.

Seonghwa nudged him with a grin. "See? Maybe they’ll surprise you for once."

"Don’t jinx it," Hongjoong shot back, his tone dry but amused.

---

" yn, if you don't take your princess duty seriously you'll never find a husband!" your mother yelled, following behind you as you huffed in annoyance.

You stormed down the grand hallway, your footsteps echoing against the marble floor as your mother’s voice followed closely behind, sharp and insistent.

"Yn! Are you even listening to me?" she snapped, her tone climbing in frustration. "You can't just waltz around avoiding your responsibilities. A proper princess is dignified, poised, and knows her role!"

Turning on your heel, you faced her with an exasperated glare. "Mother, I don’t want to find a husband just because it’s expected of me," you shot back. "I have more important things to focus on than playing the perfect doll in some fairytale."

Her expression hardened, her lips pressing into a thin line. "You think this is just about you? This is about the kingdom—about your duty!"

You crossed your arms, refusing to back down. "And what about what I want? Have you ever considered that?"

She stepped closer, lowering her voice but losing none of its intensity. "What I’ve considered is the weight of this crown and the legacy you’ll inherit. Like it or not, you don’t have the luxury of selfishness, Yn."

She let out a long sigh as she walked up to you, her heels clicking as you turn away from her.

" yn, you and i both know that since we're born as women, we're nothing but breeding mares for this kingdom,"

Her words struck a nerve, freezing you in place. You didn’t turn back to face her, your hands trembling slightly at your sides. The weight of her statement settled over you like a heavy shroud, suffocating and inescapable.

"That’s not fair," you whispered, your voice low but laced with defiance.

"Life isn’t fair," she replied, her tone softer now but no less resolute. Her heels clicked against the floor again as she approached, the sound a steady rhythm that seemed to echo the inevitability of her words. "Do you think I wanted this life? To be defined by my duty, my marriage, my children?"

You turned to her then, your eyes blazing with frustration and pain. "Then why force it on me? If you hated it so much, why make me follow the same path?"

She paused, the lines of her face softening as her gaze met yours. For a moment, she looked less like the stern queen and more like a tired woman who had carried too much for too long. " my love, your father would have both our heads if we dared."

Your mother placed a hand on your shoulder, turning you to face her. Her touch was gentle, but her words carried a weight that made your chest tighten. You met her gaze, and for a moment, the mask of the ever-dutiful queen cracked, revealing the vulnerable woman underneath.

"Yn," she began softly, her voice trembling just enough for you to notice, "I understand more than you think. There was a time when I dreamed of more, too. But your father—" She paused, glancing away as if the mere mention of him cast a shadow over the room. "He is not a man who tolerates defiance."

You swallowed hard, the mention of your father sending a chill through you. "That doesn’t mean we have to live in fear of him forever," you said, your voice steady despite the lump in your throat.

Her hand tightened slightly on your shoulder, her eyes searching yours. "It’s not just fear, my love. It’s survival. Every choice I’ve made has been to protect you—to protect us."

"Protect me from what?" you challenged, your frustration bubbling to the surface. "From living? From being more than what he expects of us?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line, but her eyes softened with a sorrow that seemed to stretch back through years of quiet sacrifices. "From his wrath," she whispered. "From a world that will not forgive us for stepping out of line."

You shook your head, your heart aching with a mix of anger and compassion. "I don’t want to live like this, Mother. I can’t. I’ll find a way to be free, even if it means facing his wrath."

Her eyes glistened, and for a brief moment, you thought she might cry, but she held herself together. "You’re braver than I ever was," she said quietly. "But bravery can be a double-edged sword. Promise me you’ll be careful, Yn. Please."

"I promise," you replied, though you weren’t sure if it was a lie or not.

She gave you a faint, bittersweet smile, her hand lingering on your shoulder a moment longer before she let go. "Then may the gods watch over you," she said, turning to leave, her regal composure returning with every step.

---

Seonghwa weaved through the bustling market stalls, his sharp eyes scanning the vibrant scene around him. The air was thick with the mingling scents of spices, fresh bread, and roasting meats, while the hum of chatter and the occasional bark of a merchant echoed through the narrow streets. Yunho kept pace beside him, his easy smile drawing glances from passersby.

Behind them, Jongho walked with a steady stride, his expression calm but alert, his arms crossed as he kept a watchful eye on the group. Mingi, on the other hand, couldn’t help but drift from stall to stall, his curiosity pulling him toward anything that glittered or smelled enticing.

"Keep an eye on Mingi before he buys half the market," Seonghwa murmured to Yunho, a hint of amusement tugging at his lips.

Yunho chuckled, glancing back to see Mingi enthusiastically inspecting a tray of sparkling trinkets. "I’ll rein him in if he starts haggling. You know how he gets."

San trailed just behind Mingi, clearly enjoying the lively atmosphere. He paused to admire a display of ornate daggers, his fingers brushing the intricate carvings on the hilts. "These are nice," he said, glancing over his shoulder at Jongho. "Bet you’d like one of these."

Jongho raised an eyebrow but didn’t break stride. "I’d rather not have to use one, but thanks."

Seonghwa slowed his pace, letting the group catch up as they reached the heart of the market, a wide square where performers entertained small crowds and merchants hawked their finest wares. "Stick together," he said, his tone firm but not unkind. "We don’t want to draw unnecessary attention."

"Too late for that," Yunho teased, gesturing subtly to a group of onlookers whose curiosity was clearly piqued by their presence.

Seonghwa sighed, adjusting his cloak to obscure the insignia on his chest. "Just stay sharp. We’re here for supplies, not trouble."

"Trouble always seems to find us anyway," Mingi said with a grin, finally stepping away from the jewelry stall to join the group.

"Let’s hope it takes its time today," Seonghwa replied, his eyes sweeping the square once more before leading them toward the next row of stalls.

The sudden yells from guards caught their attention as they see wooyoung, yuna, luna and yeosang running pass them. Wooyoung halting as he held a grin on his face.

" hyung, hold this for me yeah?"

Seonghwa barely had time to register what was happening before Wooyoung shoved a small, wrapped bundle into his hands, the grin on his face both mischievous and unapologetic.

“Wooyoung—what did you do?” Seonghwa asked, his tone sharp as his eyes darted to the approaching guards, their shouts growing louder.

“Nothing you need to worry about, hyung!” Wooyoung called back as he started running again, laughing as Yuna tugged at his sleeve to keep him moving. Luna and Yeosang were right behind, both looking equal parts amused and panicked.

Mingi blinked, staring at the fleeing group before glancing at the bundle in Seonghwa’s hands. “Uh…should we be concerned about whatever that is?”

San smirked, crossing his arms. “Knowing Wooyoung? Absolutely.”

Seonghwa let out a frustrated sigh, quickly unwrapping the bundle just enough to peek inside. His eyes widened slightly as he caught sight of crown.

“Are you kidding me?” he hissed, his gaze snapping back to the fleeing figures.

Yunho chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, it’s Wooyoung. Are you really surprised?”

“Not the point,” Seonghwa snapped, shoving the bundle under his cloak as the guards approached, their faces flushed with anger.

“You there!” one of the guards barked, pointing at Seonghwa and his group. “Did you see four troublemakers run through here?”

Seonghwa straightened, his expression calm and unreadable. “Troublemakers? No, but the market’s busy today. They could’ve gone anywhere.”

The guard narrowed his eyes, clearly not convinced, but another called out, “They went that way!” pointing in the opposite direction.

As the guards ran off, Seonghwa exhaled slowly, his grip tightening on the bundle. “We’re going to kill him.”

" not before captain does, so should we bother saving them?" Jongho asked, amused.

Seonghwa paused mid-step, glancing at Jongho with a raised brow. “Captain’s wrath is inevitable,” he admitted, tucking the bundle deeper into his cloak. “But if we don’t step in, they’ll probably end up in the dungeon—or worse. And you know who will have to smooth things over then.”

Yunho chuckled, hands resting on his hips. “That’s true. I’d rather deal with Captain’s yelling than a week of palace politics.”

Mingi nodded enthusiastically. “Same. Last time Wooyoung got caught, I spent three days explaining to the magistrate why we weren’t a band of criminals.”

San smirked, leaning slightly against a nearby stall. “Let them sweat it out for a bit. Maybe they’ll learn something.”

Jongho tilted his head, his expression unreadable save for the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Unlikely, but it’s a nice thought.”

Seonghwa sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If we leave them, Captain will hold us accountable for not intervening sooner. So yes, we’re saving them.”

“Fine,” San said with a mock sigh, pushing off the stall. “But only because I don’t feel like listening to Captain’s lecture either.”

“Agreed,” Jongho said with a small smile, already falling in step with the group. “Though I still think it’s entertaining to watch them dig their own graves.”

Yunho clapped a hand on Seonghwa’s shoulder as they started moving again. “You’ve got to admit, though, they make life interesting.”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes, though a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Too interesting,” he muttered, picking up the pace. “Let’s make sure they don’t burn the entire market down before we get to them.”

--- Seonghwa crouched low, his dark cloak blending seamlessly with the shadows as he approached the massive palace doors. The weight of the task ahead pressed heavily on his chest, but he refused to let it show. His eyes, sharp and calculating, flicked over the guards stationed at their posts—he could slip past them, he knew it. He was the Seonghwa, Hongjoong's first mate, after all. He’d navigated worse situations before; this was nothing compared to the battles and escapes he had mastered in the past.

Still, the closer he got to the door, the more the dread settled in his gut. There was something about tonight—about this mission—that felt different. The palace held too many secrets, too many eyes watching. Every step felt like it could be his last if even the slightest mistake was made.

Seonghwa took a deep breath, forcing the tension out of his body, and reminded himself of the importance of the mission. He wasn’t here to be caught. He just needed to place the crown back before the realized it was stolen.

He glanced back at the shadows where Mingi and Yunho were waiting, their eyes flashing with silent determination. The rest of the crew would stay on standby, ready to move if needed. But Seonghwa didn’t want it to come to that.

He focused on the door again, studying the guards’ movements. Timing was everything, and he knew the exact second to make his move. A guard yawned, shifting his position just enough to allow Seonghwa the window he needed.

With a practiced grace, he moved, slipping into the palace hall with barely a sound, his heart beating only slightly faster than usual. The grand hall was quiet, the only noise the distant echoes of the palace's humming life. He didn’t have much time before someone would notice he had entered.

He moved swiftly through the corridors, his boots soft on the marble floors, but his mind was alert. There were more guards inside than he’d anticipated, and the risk of discovery increased with each step. But Seonghwa trusted in his skill, in his ability to navigate even the most heavily guarded places.

"Focus," he whispered to himself, mentally shaking off the unease that tried to take root. This was just another challenge, another step in the game. He had overcome far worse than this.

And he would get out. He would finish this.

Finally, he reached the familiar doors—the ones that led to the chambers where you were likely being kept. His heart pounded now, but it wasn’t fear; it was the sharp anticipation of success. He reached for the hidden key he'd stolen earlier from one of the servants, his fingers trembling just slightly as he slid it into the lock.

With a soft click, the door creaked open. Seonghwa slipped inside.

Seonghwa moved swiftly, his cloak swishing behind him as he placed the crown back into its original position on the velvet pillow. His breath slowed, and for a moment, it felt like everything had fallen into place. He had done it. The crown was back in its place, and the plan could continue without any major repercussions.

But as he turned to leave, his heart skipped a beat. The faint sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway just outside the chamber door. The guards were coming. They had to be.

Seonghwa’s eyes darted around the room, looking for a place to hide, but there was nowhere near enough time. His pulse quickened as the door handle began to turn. He had to make a decision, and quickly.

With a final glance at the crown—now safely restored—he slipped into the shadows, holding his breath as the door creaked open, praying that the guards wouldn’t notice the subtle shift in the room. The smallest movement could betray him. The smallest hesitation could ruin everything.

He remained still, blending into the darkness as the guards entered, their voices low, but their presence filling the space. The tension was unbearable, each second stretching on forever as Seonghwa prayed they wouldn’t see him, wouldn’t find him hiding in plain sight.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the guards turned and left, oblivious to the fact that someone had been there, so close to the crown they had sworn to protect.

Seonghwa let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. He moved quietly toward the door, already planning his next steps. The crown was back. Now, he just needed to get out of the palace undetected and reunite with the others before it was too late.

" ahem,"

Seonghwa’s breath caught in his throat as the voice pierced through the stillness of the room, his body going rigid with shock. He had been so close to escaping undetected, but now... now he was caught. His hand instinctively went to the hilt of his blade, but he stopped himself just as quickly. There was no immediate threat here, no alarm ringing out, but the feeling of being exposed was enough to make his heart race.

You stood there, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips, watching him closely. The flicker of moonlight from the nearby window caught in your eyes, making them gleam with mischief and a hint of something else—something that Seonghwa couldn’t quite place. He felt his muscles tense as he quickly scanned the room, but there was no way out now. You had him cornered.

"Well, well," you said with a teasing edge to your voice, taking a few more steps toward him. "I must say, I’m surprised to see you here. The Park Seonghwa, first mate of captain hongjoong."

" get on with it," Seonghwa hissed

You paused, your smirk widening as you noticed the flicker of impatience in Seonghwa's eyes. His posture had shifted slightly, the sharp tension in his body betraying just how on edge he was. But you weren't about to make it easy for him.

"You really thought you'd sneak in here unnoticed, huh?" you teased, taking another step closer, your eyes never leaving his. "I mean, first mate of Captain Hongjoong—quite the title, don’t you think? Surely, you’re used to getting away with anything."

Seonghwa’s patience was wearing thin, but he forced himself to stay composed, his voice low and controlled. "Get on with it," he repeated, the command sharp, but his gaze still wary, measuring you.

You didn’t flinch at his harsh tone, your gaze unwavering. "Alright, alright," you said, drawing the words out slowly, savoring the moment. "I’m not here to ruin your little heist. If that's what you’re worried about."

Seonghwa’s eyes flickered to the crown for a split second before returning to you, suspicion rising. "Then what do you want?"

" freedom,"

Seonghwa looked at you confused, " freedom? you're the fucking princess and you're asking a pirate for freedom?"

You chuckled softly at Seonghwa's reaction, the confusion in his eyes only making your smirk widen. The idea of freedom, of escape, was something you knew all too well. You took a deliberate step forward, close enough now that you could almost feel the tension crackling between you.

"Yes, freedom," you repeated, your voice steady despite the fire in his gaze. "The kind of freedom you can’t buy or steal. The kind of freedom that means being in control of your own life for once. That’s what I’m after."

Seonghwa's eyebrows furrowed deeper, disbelief written across his face. "You want freedom?" He scoffed, taking a half-step back, disbelief and annoyance mixing in his expression. "You're the princess. You’ve got everything handed to you. Power, wealth, luxury. What the hell do you need freedom for?"

You held his gaze, unflinching, your voice lower now, almost a whisper. "You think I don’t know what people like you think of people like me?" There was a cold edge in your words, one that matched the resolve in your eyes. "You think I’ve spent my entire life locked away in some gilded cage, waiting for someone to save me. But that’s not the kind of freedom I want."

Seonghwa was silent for a moment, his confusion giving way to a flicker of realization. "So what do you want from me?" he asked, voice quieter now, as if the game had shifted.

You tilted your head slightly, the smirk still playing on your lips, though it was tempered by something more dangerous now. "You’re a pirate, right? You live by your own rules. You fight for your own freedom every damn day. I need someone like you to help me escape this place. And I’m offering you a deal in return."

Seonghwa’s gaze narrowed, and for a brief moment, his mind seemed to be working through all the angles. You were the princess, but there was something in your demeanor—something in the way you spoke—that made him wonder if you were telling the truth. You weren't the helpless, sheltered royal he had expected. You were calculating, strategic. And maybe, just maybe, you were a risk worth taking.

"You want me to help you escape," he said slowly, still processing the idea.

you nodded, a sigh escaping Seonghwa as he held his hand out. Your heart practically leaped out your chest as you grabbed it. This was it, you're finally leaving.

---

Seonghwa stood tall, his back straight, even as Hongjoong's frustration seemed to fill the entire room, thick and suffocating. Wooyoung, Yuna, Yeosang, and Luna remained quiet, the weight of the moment pressing down on all of them. They knew stealing the crown would bring punishment, but to have Hongjoong this furious was not on their agenda.

Hongjoong’s pacing grew more erratic, the sound of his boots on the floor sharp, each step echoing in the cabin. His gaze snapped to Seonghwa, his voice sharp as a whip. "This was not the fucking plan, Seonghwa!" Hongjoong spat, his eyes burning with anger. "You were supposed to bring the crown back, not bring back a fucking princess. The princess at that!"

Seonghwa’s jaw tightened, but he refused to let his gaze falter. He could feel the tension in the room, could practically hear the others holding their breath, waiting for the confrontation to unfold.

"You don’t understand," Seonghwa finally said, his voice unwavering, though there was a hard edge to it now.

Hongjoong scoffed, looking at the four, " the four of you out. now"

The command was sharp, and the weight of it hit the room like a slap. Hongjoong’s gaze swept across the four of them—Wooyoung, Yuna, Yeosang, and Luna—each of them tense under his gaze. None of them moved immediately, all of them holding their breath, unsure if they were meant to stay or if their captain's words were final.

Yuna was the first to step back, her face set with a mixture of uncertainty and resignation. Yeosang followed suit, his eyes flicking between Seonghwa and Hongjoong before silently turning to leave. Luna hesitated only for a moment, then moved with quick, quiet steps toward the door, her head lowered.

Wooyoung, however, stayed rooted in place, his usual mischievous grin nowhere to be found. He exchanged a glance with Seonghwa, an unspoken question in his eyes. But even he knew when to back down—at least for now.

"Come on, Wooyoung," Yuna called softly from the doorway, her voice breaking the tense silence. "Let’s go."

With a reluctant sigh, Wooyoung turned toward the door, the weight of the situation settling heavily on his shoulders. He gave Seonghwa a last look, his expression unreadable, before following the others out of the cabin.

The door closed softly behind them, leaving Hongjoong and Seonghwa alone. The air in the room felt thick, like the calm before a storm. Hongjoong stood there for a long moment, his anger still simmering just beneath the surface.

"You’ve lost your fucking mind," Hongjoong muttered , his voice lower now, quieter, the anger still simmering beneath his words.

Seonghwa wanted to roll his eyes, but he knew better.

" you're my first mate for a reason Seonghwa. What made you think it would be a great fucking idea to bring a princess on board?"

Seonghwa bit back the urge to roll his eyes, knowing that Hongjoong was far too sharp to miss any sign of defiance. He stood straighter, forcing himself to remain composed, even though the question felt like an obvious one to him.

" she wants freedom like we do captain. Isn't that why you made this crew? for us to have freedom that we couldn't have?"

Seonghwa's words hung in the air, and for a moment, Hongjoong paused, his back still turned to Seonghwa. The question had landed squarely in the captain's mind, and for the first time in a while, doubt crept in.

Hongjoong’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his voice low but tinged with the weight of his past decisions. "I didn’t form this crew just for freedom, Seonghwa," he muttered, his eyes staring out at the endless ocean, as though seeking answers from it. "I formed it to survive. To fight back against the system that kept us shackled. But freedom—true freedom—it’s a luxury. And it doesn’t come easily. You’re talking about taking a princess on board as if she’s just another crew member, but she’s not. She’s royalty. She’s got her own ties, her own rules, and all of those ties will pull her in directions we can’t control."

Seonghwa's scoff echoed in the tense silence, and the moment it left his lips, even he felt the sharpness of his words. He hadn’t meant for his frustration to slip through so visibly, but it was too late to take it back. Hongjoong turned his head quickly, his sharp eyes narrowing on him as if searching for any sign of weakness.

"I’m not some fucking foster home to keep bringing in strays, Park Seonghwa. First Luna, now Yuna, now you’re bringing me a god damn princess."

Seonghwa’s gaze hardened, but he refused to let Hongjoong's words throw him off course. "You want to talk about strays, Captain?" His voice was low, but the underlying edge made it clear he wasn’t backing down. "What about us? What about you? We’re all strays. Pirates, outcasts, cast aside by the world we were born into. None of us fit in anywhere. We made this ship our home, and we fight for the freedom we never got. And you want to call her a stray?"

Hongjoong’s fist slammed onto the desk with a loud crack, the force of it making the wood shake beneath the impact. The sudden motion made Seonghwa flinch, his body stiffening as the captain’s anger surged in the room like a storm.

"She is a princess, Seonghwa," Hongjoong snarled, his voice seething with frustration.

"Oh, but it was fine when Mina joined, huh?" Seonghwa’s voice was laced with frustration, but there was an edge to it that Hongjoong hadn’t expected. "It’s not my fault she left you!"

Seonghwa's words hit the air like a slap, sharp and cutting. Hongjoong froze, his face hardening at the mention of Mina. The room seemed to freeze for a moment, tension crackling between them like a storm about to break. The mention of Mina, a name that had always carried so much weight in Hongjoong’s life, caused a flicker of pain in his chest. His fists clenched at his sides, the words stinging more than he wanted to admit.

"Get out," Hongjoong snarled, his voice cutting through the tension in the room like a blade.

Seonghwa’s throat tightened, the weight of his words crashing down on him. He had never seen Hongjoong this angry, this raw with emotion. He opened his mouth to speak, to apologize, but the words caught in his throat. He wasn’t sure what to say anymore.

"Now."

Seonghwa hesitated, regret gnawing at him as he looked at Hongjoong, but he knew better than to push further. The captain was done, and Seonghwa had overstepped. With a final glance, Seonghwa nodded, a knot of guilt forming in his stomach.

" captain -"

" OUT SEONGHWA!"

Seonghwa hesitated for a split second longer, wanting to explain, to make things right, but the door to reconciliation had already been slammed shut. Without another word, he turned away from Hongjoong and walked toward the door.

----

Yn watched from her position by the railing, her gaze tracking Seonghwa’s retreating figure. She could see the tight set of his shoulders, the way his footsteps lacked the usual confidence, and she knew something had happened. She could feel the tension in the air, thick enough to taste. It wasn't hard to guess that the argument between him and Hongjoong hadn't gone well.

Seonghwa’s eyes didn’t meet hers as he passed, his expression a mix of frustration and regret, but he didn’t slow down. His focus was entirely on the quarter deck, where his duties awaited. Yn felt a tug in her chest, unsure whether she should approach or give him space. But the coldness in his demeanor made her hesitate.

Yn turned at the sound of Yunho and San’s voices, both of them standing a few steps behind her with understanding smiles. It was clear they had noticed the same tension in the air, but unlike her, they seemed unfazed by it.

"Don’t worry about him," Yunho said gently, his tone reassuring. "They both just need to cool off."

San chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with amusement. "It’s always like this with them. They’re both stubborn as hell. They’ll figure it out."

Yn gave them a small smile, though her mind was still caught up in the events of the day. She knew they were right—Seonghwa and Hongjoong both had strong personalities, and clashes were inevitable. But the way Seonghwa had walked away, his usual confidence gone, made her wonder how deep the rift had really gone.

Yn turned at the sound of Mingi's voice, his playful grin immediately catching her attention. He leaned casually against the railing, arms crossed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Behind him, Yeosang, who had been quietly observing, gave her a soft, knowing smile.

Mingi raised an eyebrow, his gaze filled with curiosity. "So, a princess, huh? What made you want to run away?" His tone was light, teasing, but there was a genuine interest there too. It was clear he was intrigued by her decision, and despite his usual easy-going demeanor, he wasn’t afraid to ask the tough questions.

" you try marrying a person you don't love" You said, sticking your tongue out.

Mingi chuckled at your response, shaking his head as he reached out and lightly ruffled your hair. "Fair point," he said, his tone filled with amusement.

" but i can assure you, you're not our first princess, princess" Yunho said, chuckling.

You raised an eyebrow at Yunho's words, the teasing tone in his voice sparking your curiosity. You turned to face him, a smirk playing on your lips. "Oh?" you asked, genuinely intrigued. "And who might the other princesses be?"

" me"

You looked at a girl - who was clinging onto wooyoung who held a friendly smile. You smiled at her, jumping up and clung to her arm.

" you're going to be my new best friend"

----

It had been a week since Seonghwa had brought Yn aboard the ship, and the tension between him and Hongjoong was still thick in the air. The crew had begun to adjust to the presence of the princess among them, though things still felt unsettled. The laughter and lighthearted moments that had once filled the ship’s decks now seemed tempered by the silent rift between the captain and his first mate.

Yn, for her part, had tried to adapt to life on board, finding comfort in the camaraderie of the crew. She had formed a bond with Mingi and Yunho, and even the quieter members like Yeosang had made her feel welcome. Despite everything, the sea felt like the freedom she had been seeking, even if she knew things were far from perfect. But she couldn't ignore the unease whenever she passed Hongjoong or Seonghwa.

Hongjoong hadn’t spoken much to Seonghwa after their heated argument. The captain had kept his distance, his cold stares and sharp words hanging over their interactions like a storm cloud. It wasn’t just the crew who felt the divide; it was the air around the ship itself—heavy, charged, like a brewing storm just waiting to break.

Seonghwa had done his best to keep a low profile, sticking to his duties, but there was an underlying tension in his every movement. He tried to interact with the crew as normal, though it was clear that his thoughts were elsewhere, constantly shifting between guilt and frustration. His attempt to bring Yn into the fold had backfired in a way he hadn’t anticipated, and the guilt of betraying Hongjoong’s trust weighed on him more than he cared to admit.

For now, everything seemed to be in a holding pattern. The crew was going about their work, the usual banter and laughter returning in fits and starts, but there was still a heavy silence whenever Seonghwa or Hongjoong were around. It was clear that something needed to give, but no one could say when or how.

" hwa.."

Seonghwa looked at the princess, his chest tighten as he went back to peeling his orange. you huffed in annoyance, sitting beside him.

"im sorry for having hongjoong yell at you..."

Seonghwa's hand paused mid-peel, the orange's skin half-removed as his gaze softened. He had been avoiding this conversation, but the sincerity in your voice made it impossible to ignore. He let out a slow breath, his fingers carefully continuing their task as he glanced at you, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Yn..." he began, his voice quiet but steady, "It's not your fault. Hongjoong has his reasons, even if they don’t always make sense to the rest of us."

You watched him for a moment, sensing the weight in his words. The crew might have laughed and joked, but you could see how much this whole situation was taking a toll on him. You reached out and placed a hand gently on his arm, your voice low but determined.

"I don’t want to be the reason for any more tension between you two," you said softly.

Seonghwa shook his head, " it was my decision princess, don't worry about it." You frowned, watching Seonghwa as he meticulously separated a segment of the orange and popped it into his mouth, clearly trying to end the conversation. But you couldn’t just let it go. His nonchalance only made the guilt in your chest heavier.

"But you’re paying for that decision," you said, your voice tinged with frustration. "Hongjoong hasn’t spoken to you in a week, Seonghwa. That’s not fair."

Seonghwa sighed, placing the rest of the orange down on the railing beside him. He turned to you, his dark eyes softening slightly. "Life isn’t fair, Princess. Especially not out here. I knew what I was doing when I brought you on board. I’d make the same choice again, even knowing the consequences."

Your heart clenched at his words, the conviction behind them making it hard to argue. Still, the guilt gnawed at you. "I just... I don’t want to be the cause of a rift in your crew. You’re all like a family. I’ve seen how much this ship and these people mean to you."

Seonghwa gave a small, bittersweet smile, brushing his hands off on his pants. "We are a family, but even families fight. Hongjoong will come around—he always does. He’s stubborn, but he’s not unreasonable. He’ll see why I made the choice I did, even if it takes time."

You stared at him for a moment, taking in the calm assurance in his voice. Even in the middle of this storm, Seonghwa seemed so composed, so unwavering.

"And if he doesn’t?" you asked quietly.

Seonghwa tilted his head, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. "Then I’ll just have to live with it. My loyalty to this crew isn’t in question, Princess. I brought you here because I believe you deserve a chance at freedom, just like the rest of us. If Hongjoong can’t accept that... well, I’ll deal with that when it comes."

Your chest tightened at his words, a mix of admiration and worry filling you. "You shouldn’t have to sacrifice so much for me," you said softly.

Seonghwa chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "You’ll find, Princess, that sacrifices are part of life. Especially out here. You just have to make sure what you’re sacrificing for is worth it."

He reached out and gently tapped the back of your hand, his touch reassuring. "And you are. Don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise."

months later ~

Hongjoong’s gaze was sharp as he leaned against the railing near Mingi, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were fixed on Yn, who was kneeling beside Yuna, both laughing as they worked on cleaning the fish they had just caught. Her movements were clumsy, a clear sign that she wasn’t used to such tasks, but her genuine effort seemed to amuse Yuna.

Mingi glanced at the captain, sensing the tension radiating from him. He shifted slightly, keeping one hand steady on the wheel while glancing between Hongjoong and the scene below.

“Still not warming up to her, huh?” Mingi asked, his tone light but careful.

Hongjoong’s lips twitched slightly, though he quickly masked it with a deep sigh. The sound of Yuna gagging in exaggerated disgust echoed across the deck as Yn doubled over in laughter, holding her sides.

“Oh, come on, Yuna, it’s just a little fish guts!” Yn teased, holding up her hands, which were covered in the slimy remains.

Yuna dramatically turned away, clutching her stomach. “Ugh, you’re worse than Wooyoung! I didn’t think that was even possible.”

“Hey!” Wooyoung called out from where he stood with Seonghwa, his mock-offended tone drawing more laughter from the crew.

Mingi grinned, glancing at Hongjoong out of the corner of his eye. “She’s fitting in, Captain. Whether you like it or not.”

Hongjoong didn’t respond, his gaze flicking back to Yn. She had taken a step closer to Yuna, holding out her hands playfully as if threatening to wipe the mess on her. Yuna shrieked and darted away, the two now engaged in a spirited chase across the deck.

Seonghwa hesitated for a moment as he approached you, his usual stoic demeanor faltering just slightly. Despite the fact that you were smeared with fish guts and laughing like a child, there was something about your smile that made his heart stumble in his chest.

“You’re making quite the impression, Princess,” he said, his voice laced with teasing as he crossed his arms over his chest.

You grinned up at him, wiping your hands on your already filthy cloak. “What can I say? I’m a fast learner. Yuna’s just being dramatic.”

From behind you, Yuna groaned loudly, still recovering from her exaggerated reaction. “Dramatic? You’re disgusting, Yn!”

Seonghwa chuckled, the sound soft but genuine. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a clean rag and offering it to you. “Here. Maybe clean up before someone mistakes you for part of the catch.”

You took the rag with a playful roll of your eyes, but your smile never wavered. As you wiped your hands, you looked up at him. “I don’t think I’ve seen you laugh this much since I got here, Seonghwa. Are you finally warming up to me?”

Seonghwa smirked, leaning slightly closer. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Princess. I’m just amused at how quickly you’ve adapted to life on the ship. Even if it’s... unconventional.”

You pretended to be offended, placing a hand over your heart. “Unconventional? I’ll have you know I’m blending in perfectly. Right, Yuna?”

Yuna, now leaning against the railing and catching her breath, shot Seonghwa a look. “She’s your problem now, Hwa. I’m done.”

Seonghwa shook his head, trying to suppress a laugh as you turned back to him with an innocent expression. “Looks like I’m stuck with you,” he said with mock resignation.

“Could be worse,” you replied, giving him a wink.

Seonghwa's smile faltered as his gaze shifted upward. Standing on the upper deck, Hongjoong’s figure loomed above, his expression unreadable. Their eyes locked for a brief moment, a silent exchange passing between them. Seonghwa’s chest tightened as he braced himself for whatever silent judgment his captain might be harboring.

Without a word, Hongjoong turned away and disappeared into the shadows of the helm, leaving Seonghwa standing there, the weight of that look settling heavily on his shoulders.

You followed Seonghwa’s gaze, frowning slightly. “He’s still upset, isn’t he?”

Seonghwa exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as he tore his eyes away from where Hongjoong had stood. “Hongjoong’s always thinking five steps ahead. He’s not upset—he’s calculating.”

“Calculating what?” you asked, your tone gentle but curious.

Seonghwa hesitated, his jaw tightening. “Whether I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life bringing you here, Princess.”

Your heart sank at his words, but before you could respond, Seonghwa turned back to you, his expression softening slightly. “Don’t take it personally. Hongjoong doesn’t trust easily—it’s not just you. He’s always been like this.”

You gave him a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Still... I don’t want to be the reason things are strained between you two. I’ll prove I’m worth the risk.”

Seonghwa’s lips quirked upward in a faint smile. “You’ve got guts, Princess. I’ll give you that.”

As he spoke, the sound of Wooyoung’s laughter carried over from the other side of the deck, followed by Yuna’s mock protests. The ship seemed alive with energy, but the weight of Hongjoong’s lingering gaze hung in the back of Seonghwa’s mind.

“Come on,” Seonghwa said, nodding toward the rigging. “Let’s get you out of Yuna’s hair before she decides to throw you overboard.”

----

Seonghwa stood at the edge of the deck, his arms crossed as he watched you splash in the water with Yuna and Luna. The laughter that echoed across the ship was infectious, pulling a rare smile from his lips despite his usual stoic demeanor.

Yuna’s tail shimmered brightly under the sunlight, its scales catching the rays and casting iridescent patterns across the surface of the water. She flicked it playfully, sending a spray of water your way, making you squeal and shield your face. Luna’s laughter joined yours, her voice carrying easily over the gentle lapping of the waves.

"They’re like kids," Wooyoung muttered beside Seonghwa, leaning casually against the railing. His grin was wide, his eyes filled with amusement.

Seonghwa didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingering on you as you tried to splash Yuna back, only to trip slightly in the shallow water and laugh at yourself. There was something so unguarded, so free, about the way you moved. It was a stark contrast to the formality you’d arrived with.

Seonghwa shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched you. "She deserves it," he murmured, more to himself than to Wooyoung.

Wooyoung, leaning lazily against the railing, raised an eyebrow at Seonghwa’s uncharacteristically soft expression. "You’re really gone, huh?" he teased, his grin mischievous. "Who would’ve thought Park Seonghwa, the unshakable first mate, has a soft spot for a runaway princess?"

Seonghwa shot him a look, but the blush creeping up his neck betrayed him. " say's the one who also helped a princess escape."

Wooyoung smirked, unfazed. " touche " he said with a shrug.

" when did you first knew you love yuna Wooyoung?" seonghwa asked, your laughter filling the air.

Wooyoung leaned against the railing, his trademark smirk playing on his lips as he glanced at Seonghwa. But when he noticed your laughter echoing in the background, his grin softened into something more genuine.

"I think it was the first time she threatened to drown me."

Seonghwa’s eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at Wooyoung. "You’re telling me you fell in love with her because she threatened to drown you?" he asked, his voice a mix of incredulity and concern.

Wooyoung, however, seemed entirely unfazed, chuckling under his breath. "What? I like my women spicy," he replied nonchalantly, his grin never faltering. "Yuna was fiery from the start, and that’s what I liked. She wasn’t scared to speak her mind, even if it meant threatening to drag me under."

Seonghwa blinked at him, clearly trying to process the absurdity of it all. "You’re insane, Wooyoung."

Wooyoung just shrugged, still amused by the whole memory. "Hey, it wasn’t just the threat. It was the way she stood her ground. Most people would’ve run off or apologized right away, but not her. She looked me in the eye and said, ‘I’ll drown you if you don’t let me go,’ and I respected that."

Seonghwa sighed, rubbing his temples as he let the words sink in. "Only you, Wooyoung."

"Well, yeah," Wooyoung said, flashing a playful grin. "But you can’t say it didn’t work. I’m still here."

Seonghwa glanced at Yuna, who was laughing with you at the edge of the water. His expression softened slightly, despite the ridiculousness of Wooyoung’s words. "I think we all know you’re a lost cause when it comes to Yuna," he muttered under his breath.

Wooyoung caught the look in Seonghwa’s eyes and nudged him lightly with his elbow. "Don’t look at me like that, Hwa. You know how it is. Once you meet someone like her, there’s no turning back."

Seonghwa didn’t reply, but the quiet understanding between them was enough. Seonghwa watched as you waved at him, your hair glistening with droplets of water, a soft smile on your face. For a brief moment, there was a quiet tenderness in his gaze before it was interrupted by Luna, who tackled you into the water with a loud splash. Seonghwa couldn’t help but chuckle at the playful chaos unfolding in front of him. Yeah, he knew you would be the one.

----

" alright, now that we are on port. Seonghwa and yn will be the ones to head to the market and get our supplies. You four are to stay here. understood." Hongjoong said, glaring at the wooyoung, yeosang, yuna and luna.

The crew stood in silence, their attention on Hongjoong as he issued his orders. Wooyoung, Yeosang, Yuna, and Luna exchanged looks, none of them exactly thrilled with the captain’s decision, but they didn’t argue. Hongjoong's tone left little room for protest.

"Understood, Captain," Seonghwa said smoothly, his voice carrying the weight of authority, though he kept his expression neutral. He shot a quick glance at you, offering a faint smile that was more reassuring than anything.

"Yeah, yeah, we got it," Wooyoung muttered, crossing his arms as he leaned against the railing, clearly less than thrilled with being left behind. "But don’t take too long, alright? We’ll get bored without you two."

Yuna rolled her eyes, though her lips twitched in a smile. "I swear, Wooyoung, you act like we're going on some grand adventure. It's just supplies."

"You don’t understand," Wooyoung responded dramatically. "I need my entertainment."

Luna, standing beside Yuna, snorted with laughter, shaking her head. "You always need entertainment, Wooyoung."

Hongjoong ignored their banter, his eyes sharp as he turned toward you and Seonghwa. "Get what we need and don’t get distracted. Keep it quick, and be back by sundown."

"Of course, Captain," you replied, giving Hongjoong a small but respectful nod.

Seonghwa gave Hongjoong a quick salute, and with that, the two of you made your way down the gangplank, stepping onto the bustling port. The air was filled with the scent of fresh fish, spices, and the sounds of merchants calling out their wares. The market was as lively as ever, a perfect mix of locals and travelers all haggling over goods.

As you moved through the bustling market with Seonghwa by your side, you couldn’t help but notice the way his hand hovered just above your hood, always careful to make sure it stayed securely in place. His attention to detail, the way he made sure you were safe and concealed, was endearing in its own way. It was as if the world could fall apart around him, but he would never let anything harm you—no matter how small the threat.

Your heart fluttered a little as he moved closer, his presence a calm anchor in the sea of noise and chaos around you. You could feel the slight brush of his fingers near your hood every now and then as he adjusted it, making sure it stayed tucked perfectly, hidden from the prying eyes of the market.

"Seonghwa," you began softly, your voice a little more than a whisper to avoid drawing attention. "You’re really careful, aren’t you?"

He glanced at you, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "It’s better this way. I don’t want anyone to notice you—especially not now."

There was something about the way he said it, so matter-of-factly, that made your chest tighten with a mix of appreciation and something deeper. It wasn’t just about keeping your identity a secret; it was about looking out for you, taking care of you without question.

"Thank you," you whispered, the words soft but meaningful. You weren’t sure why, but something about the way he was being so attentive made your heart race, the fluttering growing in intensity as you kept walking beside him.

Finally heading back, seonghwa pulled you aside - taking you a different route. Seonghwa gently pulled you to the side, his hand briefly grazing your arm as he steered you away from the main road. You shot him a curious glance, wondering why he was taking a different route back to the ship.

"Seonghwa?" you asked softly, your voice filled with a quiet question as you glanced back toward the main thoroughfare. "Why are we going this way?"

Seonghwa's smile was soft, but there was a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Taking the scenic route," he repeated, his voice a little more playful now. "Seems fitting, don't you think? A quiet walk before we get back to the chaos of the ship."

You couldn't help but smile back at him, the tension easing just a little as the humor in his tone reached you. "I suppose you’re right. It’s nice to have a moment of peace."

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a brief moment before he continued, guiding you along the less-traveled path. "We don’t always get those on board, do we? But sometimes, it’s good to slow down... even if only for a little while."

As you walked beside him, the atmosphere felt lighter, more relaxed. The market’s noise was a distant memory now, replaced by the sound of your footsteps on the cobblestone and the faint rustling of the wind. It was a rare, calm moment, one you found yourself savoring in his company.

"Are you always this careful with everyone?" you asked, teasing lightly but also genuinely curious.

Seonghwa chuckled softly, the sound warm and comforting. "Not always," he admitted with a shrug. "But I’ve learned to look out for the people who matter."

His words lingered in the air between you two, and for a moment, you both walked in silence, the unspoken connection between you growing with each step.

As you neared the ship again, you felt a little reluctant to let go of this calm moment. But Seonghwa’s steady presence beside you made the transition back to the chaos of the crew feel a little more manageable.

"Thank you, Seonghwa," you said again, your voice sincere. "For everything."

He glanced at you, his smile softening even more, and for a brief moment, you saw something deeper in his eyes, something that made your heart flutter again.

Your breath hitched as Seonghwa's arm wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you in closer. The world around you seemed to blur as his presence filled your senses. His proximity, his warmth—it all felt so overwhelming, and yet comforting in a way you couldn't quite explain.

Your eyes locked for a brief moment, your heart racing as you felt the heat between you grow. His gaze softened, but there was something intense in it, something that made the air between you both crackle with unspoken words. The space between your faces closed, your noses brushing lightly, sending a shiver down your spine.

You took a steadying breath, the pulse in your chest quickening as you made the decision. In a sudden movement, you pulled Seonghwa closer, closing the gap between you. His breath caught in his throat as your lips were mere inches away, the heat of your bodies pressing against each other. The world around you seemed to stop for a brief moment, leaving only the intensity of this connection.

Seonghwa’s eyes widened, surprised by the sudden boldness, but there was no hesitation in his actions. His arm tightened around your waist, pulling you in even closer as if he’d been waiting for this moment, too.

The closeness between you two was undeniable now. Your hearts beat in sync, and as you tilted your head slightly, your lips finally brushed against his. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters. But it quickly deepened, the warmth of his lips, the pressure of his touch—everything about the moment was magnetic.

Seonghwa's hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you gently but firmly as the kiss grew more intense, more urgent. You responded in kind, feeling the sparks of connection surge through your veins, the tension that had built over time finally being released in this single act.

The world faded away as the two of you were lost in the moment, the only things that mattered being the closeness, the intimacy, the feeling of finally crossing the line that had always been just out of reach.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and with hearts still racing, Seonghwa’s gaze was intense, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath. His forehead rested against yours as he whispered, voice hushed, "I've wanted that... for so long."

You swallowed, your fingers still lightly tracing his jaw. "Me too," you admitted quietly, your voice shaky but filled with the truth of the moment.

Seonghwa gave you a soft, crooked smile, his eyes softening as he leaned in to kiss you once more, but this time, slower, as if savoring every moment.

[nonexistentirl]

The crown hosts a ball. Of course all noble households in the Roan kingdom are present. Same goes for the Duke's House of Henituse as well.

Cale, who had separated himself from the rest of his family members to go to a corner and enjoy the desserts with the invisible Raon and had kept his Dominating Aura activated to keep the annoyances away, is approached by his youngest sibling.

Lily, being the brave knight she is, asks her eldest brother for a dance. Cale, who already feels guilty for being as absent from her life as he is and not being a proper older brother for her, accepts it for her sake. He needs to do at least this much for her as an older brother.

There is, however, one tiny problem.

Cale, no, Kim Roksoo doesn't know how to dance. The original Cale Henituse was so invested in his act of being a trash that he never bothered to learn it, so currently Cale had no muscle memory to rely on either.

Lily, who kind of predicted this when she approached him, ends up leading the dance. It's truly an unexpected sight to see Cale Henituse dancing a waltz in the middle of the ballroom. The Commander, who was often seen bleeding out on the battlefield as he fought in the forefront, elegantly moving his body to the flow of the music was truly captivating.

Basen Henituse has never been so jealous of his little sister seven years his junior. Neither has he ever felt so remorseful of being born a man. He wishes he could share a waltz with his elder brother too.

Cale, the magnanimous brother as he is, readily agrees to dance with him. When they're off the floor, Basen makes a victory fist as soon as nobody is watching.

Duchess Violan hesitates at first. But then she decides she should join in on the fun too. Thus, for the first time ever, she shares a waltz with her step son. Something she only used to do with her husband and son, Basen, in the past. She never expected there would come a day when it would be possible for her to dance with Cale. However, as it seemed, today was the day.

Deruth is much too overwhelmed at being reminded of Jour to ask Cale for a dance. He's just happy watching the others enjoy themselves.

The thing that Lily started, what was continued by Basen and Violan, naturally everyone wanted to be a part of it. Not everyone was lucky enough though. Cale accepted their requests for a dance because they were his family. As for the rest of the people present in this ballroom? He could care less.

He does end up sharing a dance with Amiru Ubarr and Rosalyn though, people who were good at leading the dance for the inexperienced him.

Once he returns from the ball, the children demand he dance with them. Raon, who watched his dance at the ball, tries to imitate his partners leading Cale through the dance. On and Hong are quick to learn as they watch before each following suit one after another.

It was the night the Black Castle shone the brightest and illuminated the Forest of Darkness to the point the name had never felt less fitting as it did that day.

Bonus:

Taking a leaf out of Basen's book, Alberu asks his precious dongsaeng for a dance. Cale is disgusted and flabbergasted but also plays along.

"dongsaeng, are you purposefully trying to step on my feet?"

"hyung-nim must know I never learned to dance, so it's expected."

"you didn't step on anyone else's feet though?"

"maybe they were just better at leading the dance than you are."

Alberu, baffled, "cheeky brat."

"the brat is older than yourself, hyung-nim."

"ha!" Alberu is in disbelief. "Well, i guess I should assign a dance instructor to my beloved dongsaeng then."

The dance ends and Cale whispers to him before walking away "sure. Send him to the Black Castle." Knowing it's near impossible for anyone to withstand the presence of the individuals residing there.

The next day, Tasha is at the Black Castle.

"My nephew asked me to teach the young master how to waltz. I was the one to teach that boy, so you can rest assured!"

Cale feels like he lost for the first time in a while.

[novemberheart]

{overview} While John is out of commission you learn some startling information

{warnings} a/b/o dynamics, poly 141, fem reader, cursing, mentions of violence, pricesoap, handjobs (not very explicit)

Chapter 12 <- Chapter 13 -> Chapter 14

“I thought this could only happen when an omega is in heat?” Simon questioned, standing in the doorway of the bathroom. Kyle was on the phone with a doctor. John had buried himself under his blankets, despite the heat building up in his body.

“It's a reaction that can happen when you become close to an omega you haven't claimed yet. Your body's way of speeding up the process.” the doctor explained from the other end. “Make sure to keep the omega away from him if it’s not what you want yet. It could also send them into a heat.”

John groaned from his bed. Out of worry. What if he lost control? He was normally a man of great control, would it still apply to this situation? He would make sure of it.

“How long does it last?” Kyle spoke.

“Well it usually depends on the length of the omegas heat- but without that, I would say 3 to 6 days.” the doctor shared. “He’ll be fine. Just make sure he stays hydrated, quarantined, and fed.”

“Thanks, doctor.” Kyle sighed, beginning to hang up.

“Sometimes it can be useful to incorporate some belongings of the omega in the nest.” the doctor added. They shared pleasantries once again before hanging up.

“You’ll be alright, alpha,” Simon spoke. The title made John huff.

“Easy for you to bloody say,” John growled. “Turn the fuckin’ lights off.” he snarled. Kyle quickly sprung into action flicking the bright overhead lights off.

“Go let Johnny and the pup know,” Simon instructed Kyle. “See if she wants to donate any of those pretty dresses of hers.” Kyle nodded his head, heading through the conjoined bathroom and into Simon’s room out the door. The last thing they needed was the smell of a rutting alpha in the living area.

Johnny groaned at the knock on the door. You were still fast asleep but started to stir once Kyle opened the door letting the light in.

“We've got a problem,” Kyle explained. He sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Why are you coming to me?” Johnny groaned, beginning to roll over to protect both of you from the light.

“John’s in a rut.”

The two of you shot up.

“How? I'm not in heat.” you sputtered, rubbing at your eyes.

“Doctor says it can happen when you grow close to an omega, but haven't claimed them yet,” Kyle explained.

Your heart sank, the comfort in your body slowly slipping away by the second.

“I'm not ready to”-

“We know, lovie,” Kyle interjected quickly. “We would never ask or expect that from you. Just have to tell you to keep your distance for a few days till it wears off. But we do need a favor.” Kyle trailed off.

“Anything I can do.” you assured.

“Can we borrow some clothes? Or a blanket or anything that has your scent?”

“Of course.” you jumped out of bed, your legs a bit wobbly. Kyle rested his hand against your back to steady you. You grabbed one of your dresses and one of the three pillows on your bed.

“I would donate a pair of underwear, but I don't have any cute ones.” you attempted a joke.

“This’ll be fine.” Kyle assured a small smile on his lips. “You two go back to bed,” he shouted over his shoulder, heading back into Simon’s room.

“I feel bad for him,” you mumbled against Johnny's chest. “I caused it.”

“Don't go there bonnie. He's a hard bastard, he’ll make it.”

“Well now he really is hard.” you sighed, causing Johnny to erupt in laughter.

It was one of his clear-headed moments. Johnny was curled up next to him, his sun-kissed skin rising up and down in a relaxed state. The bastard had waltzed into his room, without bothering to wash any trace of you off. He quickly turned into a chew toy.

“You alright?” Johnny mumbled, against his side. His hand rested against John’s lower abdomen fiddling with the dark forest there.

“Should be askin’ you that.” John yawned, stretching his legs out.

“Better not toss her around like that. You'll break her.” Johnny continued. John chuckled, tracing Johnny’s pronounced back muscles. Bite marks littered his back and shoulders, along with a red ass. He shivered under his touch.

“I’d never,” he assured. The thought of you had him swirling a bit. Your eyes. Your eyes hadn't left his mind. The way you had looked up at him in the movie theater. Tangled in his arm, melted eyes staring up at him so heated and needy.

“Already?” Johnny groaned, the thin blanket growing a new outline. “What’re you thinking about?” he whispered, his lips grazing the alpha's chest.

“You know what I'm thinking about.” John groaned, raising his hips in hopes of catching Johnny’s hand.

“I want you to tell me.” Johnny hummed. The beta was pushing his luck, but they both knew he held all the cards. “All Captain till it's your turn to take some directions. Spit it out.”

“Her.” John groaned. He shuts his eyes tightly, his chest relaxing as Johnny finally wraps his hand around him. No matter how many times Johnny touched him, he was always taken aback by how thick and heavy the alpha was.

“What about her?” Johnny hummed, his movements slow, but tight.

“Those fuckin’ eyes, and mouth.” His words came out strangled, not so much from Johnny’s movements but from the picture playing in his mind.

“And her in your shirt. Remember that?” Johnny continued.

Remember that? He’s fairly sure that's what threw him into this rut.

It had been four days. You've been mostly by yourself in those times- except during meals and nighttime. Kyle or Johnny herding you into their beds. Simon had been extremely busy, taking on some of the captain's work. Someone was always there with John.

Deep moans and groans seeped into your core. Johnny was loud- but when you got close enough to the door you could hear Kyle growl out the dirtiest things.

You needed to get out before you barged in there with them.

Luckily for you, the doorbell rang. Were you supposed to answer it? No. Regardless you tiptoed to it, looking out the peephole. Anais. Simon's bedroom door swung open.

“Get away from that,” Kyle growled playfully.

“It’s Anais! Can I please answer it!” you begged, loud enough to where she would be able to hear you from the other side. He nodded his head, and you quickly flung open the door.

“I'm so happy to see you!” you cheered, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. She giggled, squeezing you back. She smelled like honey and grapefruit.

“I missed you too, PC.” she smiled. “The omega committee is having a baking contest today and I took it upon myself to enter both of us- well plus Jane.” she was nearly bouncing with excitement. You looked over your shoulder at Kyle, giving him your best puppy eye.

“You can go. Wear scent blockers and I expect a text every twenty minutes,” he demanded. “It's nice to meet you, Anais. Thanks for helping our girl out when she needed it.” Kyle thanked.

“Yes, Sir!” you smiled, digging through a kitchen cabinet for the can. Anais flushed at the praise.

“Of course.” She smiled.

“Bye, KyKy! Thank you!” you grabbed Anais pulling her out the door. He rolled his eyes, heading back into the humid room.

You kept good on your promise, setting an alarm to text Kyle every twenty minutes.

You three even won third place. You recognized some of the omegas from the pink blanket. They came in first.

“Who are they anyways?” you questioned, digging into one of the cupcakes you had made.

Anais snorted unpleasantly, licking the chocolate from her fingers.

“You don't want to know.” she sneered. You and Jane side-eyed each other.

“Well, now I really have to know. I was told to stay away from them,” you explained and Jane nodded her head.

“I was too,” Jane whispered.

“That's good. Keep with it.” Anais huffed. She rolled her eyes as the two of you continued to stare at her, obviously not going to drop the topic. “They're wicked. They are bullies who peaked when they were sixteen and never grew up. And their alphas- Lieutenant Hale and Sergeant Connoway are supposedly into really sketchy stuff, like taking bribes and deals. Lieutenant Hale even went through a trial and everything but he was never convicted. They left for a few months and I thought I'd never see them again, then a month ago they reappeared.”

“That's horrible,” Jane spoke first. You nodded your head in agreement.

“I met Lieutenant Hale a while ago, something about him seemed a little weird.” you admitted, shifting. Your eyes naturally drifted to where their group was hanging out, but you tried your best to not look suspicious.

“Well you won't be seeing much of Connoway. He was attacked, his whole face was scratched up, and two broken legs.” Anais explained. Your breath got caught in your throat.

“Scratched face?” you questioned.

“And broken legs,” Anais reminded. “Their beta is missing too. No clue where he is.” You swallowed thickly. It was lucky you wore scent blockers, your scent would've been horrendous.

“Well whatever it is, they probably deserved it,” you spoke finally.

“That’s cold, PC,” Anais chuckled. “You’re not wrong though.” You wrapped up the rest of your cupcake, no longer hungry. “Hey, you know what we should do? Go to the library. They have an old TV with VHS tapes. Ms. Walker always lets me make popcorn and we can watch movies with horrible acting.”

Anything to get you away from there.

The knock against the door caused all three of you to scream. You could hear multiple people shushing you from the other side of the door.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon growled. You three had spent two hours watching the worst horror movies on the face of the earth- they still made you skittish. “Come on, pup. Time for dinner.” Simon nodded his head towards the door. “You two need to be walked home?” he added, looking between the two other omegas.

“It is about to be dark,” you added looking out the window.

“If it's not too much trouble,” Anais said slowly.

“I wouldn't offer it if it was,” Simon grunted. “Clean up your messes.” the three of you sprang into action throwing away the empty popcorn bags, and the kernels from the floor. You put the movies back, and the couch cushions. “Gonna have to take a shower when you get home. Don't need you getting lice,” he commented, staring down at your head. You rolled your eyes, the chill in the air causing you to drift closer to him. He didn't seem to mind.

“Thank you!” Anais and Jane said. You and Anais hugged each other goodbye and you were pleasantly surprised when Jane extended her arms.

“Quite popular, aren't you.” Simon teased as you two walked to get some real food.

“I know you are going to find this hard to believe but people enjoy being around me.” you complimented yourself.

“I do find it hard to believe.” Simon shot back, holding the door open for you. You giggled catching him a twinge of guard. You could take a joke. He appreciated that. You loaded up on spaghetti and salad, marching your way over to the tables you always sat in.

The empty space next to you gave you pause.

You missed John. He always sat next to you turning meals, his arm pressed against yours. You always felt so safe. Not that you weren't safe with Simon, but you felt so exposed not having someone next to you.

“Hold your head up, pup. He started coming out of it today.” Simon assured.

“Really?” you beamed.

“You’ll need to keep away for another night, but by tomorrow things should be back to normal.”

Looks like you are a part of the new normal now.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! See you in three days for chapter 14! 🧡

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[torchstelechos]

Do yall think about the ending of ISAT in any other characters POV? Cause I think about it so much, that must be buck fucking wild. Like, you get to Dormont after MONTHS of traveling with these people, you're feeling strong, you feel like you have a chance, so yall go separate directions to get everything done before the big day tomorrow and your buddy Siffrin goes to take a nap. You're like, ah! Classic Siffrin, so silly and nonchalant about everything, they never once thought we would lose. What a swell fella :). Then not even a full half a day later, more like a few hours later, he appears out of no where with a fucked up face and starts hitting you exactly where it hurts emotionally. No reason! You didn't do a fucking thing! They just fucking went for it! And now you're pissed cause that was a close friend of yours that you considered family, you're sad, you're mad, you dont understand what happened. You meet up with everyone at the clocktower early because apparently he did that to everyone! So good! Good! It's not just a you thing! You all talk it out and you all agree that maybe you should leave them behind tomorrow if they keep acting like this. Except. Except. They never came to the clocktower, they never came to talk to you about what happened and thats. Not acceptable. You need to understand what happened because after sleeping on it, why did he do that? They wouldn't ever do that to all of you, so something must have happened!

And then a Star appears.

And you learn exactly what has been happening behind the scenes but it doesnt make sense. But you know that your buddy just went to solo the house and you know they arent strong enough to do so, you know exactly what their level and strength and weaknesses are and the King is rock type! He's going to kill Siffrin if you dont go save them! So you start running through the house to go save them while the Star guides you, but the doors are all unlocked. There are ghosts everywhere. The hallways dont make sense. Something is broken, failing, and you are running out of time. so you climb up and up and up until finally you get to the final floor and then to the King's room expecting Siffrin to be a splat on the floor but. He's still alive, theres a chance! So you go and protect them from the King but uh, huh. The King is nearly dead? Siffrin almost solo'ed the King? A scissors type versus a rock type nearly won? And it was only a nearly and not a he won because Siffrin was frozen in time? What???? So you freeze the King, you save Siffrin, but they're injured and sick and have a fever so you try to take them to the head housemaiden to get healed but uh. Shes speaking nonsense??? Utter bullshit. Skipping, repeating, saying things out of order, and then she says you all can go home and everything falls apart around you.

Cause Siffrin? Yeah, your buddy who was being a tad bit of an asshole? And they just solo'ed the bad guy without you? Yeah, he's the last boss you need to beat actually. And they're huge! So big! You get ready for them to fight you, except he. Attacks himself. In front of all of you while crying. He's sad. They're hurting themself. You can not do anything but you start to connect the dots and you figure everything out. Then everything becomes normal again and they say what they wished for and hey! You wanted that too! So you hug them as he cries himself out and all of you are tired. That was a lot. They're craft tired and sick but they're okay. So you're happy and relax. They want to go back to Dormont, so you all go. Then THIS LITTLE ASSHOLE WALTZES OFF ONLY TO COME BACK INJURED TO HELL AND BACK???? He said he was going to go say thanks to that Star person, who you still aren't sure is a person but whatever, and then he comes back exhausted and clearly just used craft after being told not to?

And YOU STILL DONT KNOW HOW SIFFRIN BEAT THAT FUCKER AFTER SOLOING THE HOUSE, OR THE DEAL WITH THAT WEIRD SHADE IN THE SKY IN THE SHAPE OF SOME FUCKING WEIRD LEGUME. WHAT. HOW???? WHY??????????

Anyway I think about this a lot, it must have been a long and confusing two days from their POV

[i-yap]

MY FAVORITE IS DICK GRAYSON FORVER WILL BE DICK GRAYSON AND HERE IS WHY

DICK GRAYSON X Y/N ( FRUSTRATED ME EDITION)

- first of all , he is the hottest character in dc (literally the comics have written this line by line)

- he is the real one with communication issues. You think jason struggles with that? NO jason uses any chance to tell me people how much he suffered. But dick? He wears a smile, he hides everything he is feeling

- the only person who gets to see the real him is YOU. The stress, the pressure, the mommy daddy issues...cmon. and bruce prolly was the worst at raising grayson and learned from his mistakes for the rest

- dick is someone who tries to be happy. Who tries to have a normal life. Who tries not to let his issues affect him . But they do which is why he has so many fucked up relationships. But when he meets you he wants to keep you, he needs to keep you with him. So he tries yet again to open up, fix his issues, love you the way you truly deserve.

- AND let us all not pretend we are all not stressed asf in life. He is so joyful and bright and will almost never dull the mood. Car karaoke ? Done. Skinny dipping in some random lake you drive by? His suggestion. Amusement parks? He is excitedly pulling you to all the rides and WILL 100% WIN YOU THE BIGGEST TEDDY

- he is deep, he js in touch with his feelings and he knows how to take care of you. Idk abt u guys but I have issues . I want a man who gives you those words of affirmation, who makes it super obvious he likes you.

- he needs you just as much as jason or tim or damian do. He also never had genuine love, he also has been a soldier a leader the person responsible all his life. He needs yo hold you, he needs that peace and quiet away from everything he has to deal with . He wants someone he can come home to and just show how drained he is .

- he is so kind to the world but he WILL BURN IT FOR YOU . I refuse to believe any other opinion on this. No matter how big a hero this guy is...remember how he killed joker for jason? Someone he said he hated? Broke the no kill rule?? Yea imagine what he will do for you.

- and how dare u suggest he isn't jealous/ possessive. He gets so cranky..not insecure and u don't have to coddle him and avoid all other men ...but u do have to give him extra kisses

-HE IS THE REAL GREEN FLAG fuck the whole " a hero will sacrifice you for the world but a villain will burn the world for you" NOT HIM NO HE WILL KILL EVERYONE OKAY cuz how date anyone suggest taking you away from him after everything he has done for the world. You are his reward and you better remember that.

- slow waltzing in the kitchen while he sings you his favorite love song, giggling in a pretty cafe while sharing a piece of cake( he is feeding you the whole thing and will kiss you when u Ask why he isn't eating any himself) , getting tipsy and walking back home all sweet and drunk and in love. He is adventurous and wants to experience everything With you.

- best part, everyone around u will love him. I'm sorry but I like it when my bf is liked by the old ladies and my parents and my boss. He will make you the power couple, even if you aren't as "powerful". He is your biggest loudest supporter always. Always introducing you to ppl as if you cured world hunger , telling everyone just how smart and kind you are taking any opportunity to talk about You. And dancing with him at galas makes you feel like a princess

- he will get the best gifts, say the sweetest things, be the most supportive kind eyes only for you guy once he genuinely falls in love.

I love jason a lot too, and tim and bruce too. Like yes I daydream about all of them But I just hate how underrated my boy here is.

[corroded-hellfire]

hello!! i have seen so many eddie x fem reader but never a chubby fem reader so? can u do one and plz take as much time

(can it also be smut???)

- suki

This honestly felt cathartic to write. Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy 🩵

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral, f!receiving, body image issues

Words: 4.5k

"Ugh, it’s so cheesy.”

Eddie groans and drops his head back against the couch dramatically. You scoff as you watch him out of the corner of your eye, wanting to keep most of your attention on the flickering television screen in front of you. The end of An Officer and a Gentleman plays, where Richard Gere picks up Debra Winger and carries her off bridal style.

“I think it’s romantic,” you say, lazily flicking your hand at your boyfriend’s chest. 

His dark eyebrows raise up to meet his bangs as he kicks his socked feet up on the cluttered coffee table. 

“Really?” he asks. “So, you’re saying you want me to just scoop you up like that and carry you?”

The snort that comes out of you isn’t intentional, but Eddie’s words force it to come out. 

“Hell no,” you tell him. “You’d break your back.”

Eddie’s previously raised eyebrows furrow as he stares at you. His spine straightens and he crosses his arms across his chest, offense leaking into his posture. 

“What do you mean?”

Surely, he must be joking, you think. But the way his gaze is focused on you makes you realize he’s serious.

“Eddie.” You brandish your hand towards your larger body before gesturing to his own svelte frame. 

Unsure how to feel about your insinuation, Eddie shifts in his seat to face you better. He eyes your body, something that always makes you feel a little self-conscious even if it’s in an admiring fashion.

“You think I can’t carry you?” he asks.

“Not without blowing out your back.” 

That has Eddie pushing himself up off the couch and rubbing his hands together. He nods to you as he shifts his weight from foot to foot.

“Let me try,” he says.

“No.” You don’t move an inch. 

Eddie’s shoulders slump, reminding you of a deflating beach ball as he begins to pout.

“Babe,” he whines. “Come on.” 

“No, Eddie,” you reply, tone more definitive this time. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” He waves off your concern as if it’s the last thing on his mind. But you’re aware that it’s very real and know it would only make you feel more uncomfortable in your own skin if your weight hurt your boyfriend. 

“Just drop it,” you try. 

As persistent and stubborn as Eddie is about something once it’s entered his mind, he can see your demeanor changing bit by bit, moving closer to upset. It doesn’t mean he’s going to let it go entirely, though. He’ll let you think he’s forgotten about it for now, just continuing on with the nice evening you’re having. But there’s already an idea turning the gears in the back of Eddie’s mind. 

The next week, you waltz into the Munson’s trailer–having learned long ago that you can just let yourself in–and your brow furrows as you slip off your shoes. Eddie is standing between the couch and the television, doing arm curls with a pair of smaller but heavy-looking weights. Not once have you seen Eddie lifting weights before, so you’re confused, unsure of what’s going on. 

Eddie’s eyes glance over to you, away from the rerun of Who’s the Boss playing on the television and gives you a smile.

“Hey, baby,” he says as naturally as always. “Be done in a minute.”

You finally find your voice as you track his arms moving up and down. “What’re you doing?”

“Knitting a sweater,” he answers without missing a beat. 

“Ha ha, very funny.” You roll your eyes even though he isn’t looking your way and plop down on the couch behind him.

Eddie lets out a small, breathy laugh and turns his head to the side so you know he’s talking to you.

“What’s it look like? I’m lifting weights.”

“But why?” you ask, tucking your legs up beneath you.

When Eddie turns face forward again, you catch a glimpse of his smirk in the reflection on the TV.

“So you’ll have no more excuses about why I shouldn’t pick you up,” he says. 

Letting out a dramatic groan to rival one of Eddie’s own, you flop down on your side and bury your face into one of the couch cushions. Irritated, you pick your head up and glare at the back of your boyfriend’s head.

“This again?” you ask.

“I’m gonna sweep you off your feet,” he says as he begins his last set. “Wait and see.”

“Jesus Christ,” Dustin whines, leaning back in his seat. He swipes at one of the D20s on the table out of frustration. “Where the hell is he? Eddie’s never been late for a campaign in his life.”

“Are you sure your boyfriend didn’t mention anything about being late?” Mike snaps at you from the opposite side of the table.

“For the third time, Michael,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest, “no.”

Jeff opens his mouth to say something, but the drama room door bangs open to reveal their Dungeon Master, his soaking wet hair turning the white portion of the Hellfire shirt see-through. There’s a beat of silence as everyone takes in his appearance. Leave it to Dustin to break the seal.

“Where the hell were you?”

“Is it raining out?” Lucas asks no one in particular, eyes trailing Eddie’s weighed-down curls.

He doesn’t receive a response as Eddie saunters into the room, acting as if he didn’t just break one of his own most important rules. Your boyfriend throws a wink your way and presses a kiss to the top of your head as he passes by you to get to his throne. Once he’s plopped down in the seat and made himself comfortable, he takes in all the eyes staring at him from around the table.

“I was in the gym. Weight room, more specifically,” Eddie says, as if they should have known this all along. 

“Like…where the athletes train?” Gareth asks, nose wrinkling up in confusion. You can taste Eddie’s snarky reply in the air before he even parts his lips.

“Congratulations on knowing what the weight room is, Gareth the Great.”

When Eddie’s eyes don’t meet yours, you wonder if he’s avoiding your gaze or not. He has to know that the fact that he was lifting weights again would grate on your nerves. Either he’s oblivious–which is entirely possible–or he’s being smart and not meeting your glare. Eddie is quiet for a moment, which is so unlike him that you’re wondering if maybe he’s waiting for you to say something. If that’s what he wants he’ll be sorely disappointed though because you’re biting your tongue for now. Even though he’ll definitely hear about it later when there are no witnesses around. 

“All right,” Eddie finally says, clapping his ringed hands together. “Shall we get started?”

Whenever you want to vent about Eddie or something he did, you never have a shortage of friends to go to. Most are glad to lend an ear and a few even look forward to hearing what crazy thing he did this time. But when it comes to how you’re currently feeling in regards to your boyfriend, none of your friends could truly understand because they’re all, well…thin. They might be sympathetic to your situation or even relate in some different way, but none of them would wholly understand because they’ve never been viewed in the same light that you are by society. It’s not their fault they don’t understand, it’s just how it is. 

Unfortunately, you’re not as good at keeping your emotions hidden as you thought you were. It’s only a few days before Nancy corners you at your locker.

“Are you okay?” she asks, narrowing her usually wide eyes at you. 

“Fine,” you say with as much forced enthusiasm as possible while you dig around the locker for your biology textbook. 

“For argument's sake, let’s say I believe you,” Nancy says. “Why have you been so quiet lately, then? You seem distracted, like your mind is somewhere else.”

“It’s stupid,” you say to her as you find the book you were searching for.

“Hey,” Nancy says, voice taking on a more serious tone, “no it’s not. Whatever is bothering you, you can tell me.”

You’ve known Nancy long enough to know she’s truly trying to help you and is determined to find out what’s wrong. You also know that if you tell her that you’re not ready to talk about it, she’ll drop it and respect your wishes. But you have been itching to talk to someone about everything that’s been going on, and the opportunity presented itself to you on a silver platter. 

“After school?” you ask softly. 

Nancy nods. “I’m putting the finishing touches on a story for the paper. I’ll be in there alone.”

When the bell rings signaling the end of school you find her right where she said she’d be. Bent over a few papers, shuffling them back and forth and inspecting them with a small furrow to her brow. As soon as she sees you, though, she moves her work to the side and gives you her undivided attention.

“What’s up?” she asks. 

Trying to buy every second you have before you open your mouth and start to explain your predicament, you make yourself comfortable on the stool across from your friend and situate your bag between your feet on the floor. There’s no more stalling, you realize, as you continue to shift in your seat though. Deep down you know Nancy will be sympathetic and would never intentionally steer you wrong, it’s just the fact that she won’t get it that’s keeping you from spilling your guts. 

“I’m not interviewing you, you know,” Nancy says, the ghost of a smile dancing on her lips. “You can start whenever.”

“Eddie keeps saying he wants to lift me up.”

The admission just tumbles from your mouth, no preamble, no build-up, just straight to the problem that’s been lying heavy on your heart. 

“Okay…” Nancy drags out the word and she leans in towards you. Clearly, she was expecting more to the story than this. 

“And I told him that he’ll hurt himself and now he’s working out and lifting all these weights to prove that he’s strong enough for it.” For someone who wasn’t sure if they wanted to talk about this to begin with, you’re now word vomiting everywhere. Between the speed of your words and the way they seem to come out before being processed in your mind, you’re strangely reminded of how it is to talk with Robin when she’s flustered over something. The thought has you biting back a smile; maybe now you’d give Robin less grief about talking so fast. 

“Why don’t you just let him try then?” Nancy asks.

An internal scream sounds in your head at her question. Of course she doesn’t understand what the big deal is. It’s not her fault, but you also know there are no words you could use to explain it to her to convey how you feel deep down about it. It’s something you either know from experience or not. 

“You’ve seen the two of us together,” you finally respond, voice measured and quiet. “He’s so slender and has some lean muscle, but not enough to lift my fat ass.”

It’s obvious from the way Nancy does her cute little pout that she doesn’t like your comment.

“You are–”

Here it comes, you think. She’s going to say how pretty I am, even though I didn’t say I was ugly–just fat. 

“–stressing yourself out by thinking about this too much. Let Eddie lift his weights. If you still don’t want him to pick you up, tell him. You know he respects your boundaries.”

It’s not what you expected her to say at all, and you admonish yourself for thinking Nancy would be anything less than logical about this. And her logic is sound. You know she’s right, but the emotional part of your brain still isn’t completely satisfied.  

On your way out of the school after talking with Nancy, you pass the weight room and hear someone inside. You peek in the small window cut into the door and spot your boyfriend’s mass of messy curls. He has a barbell over his hips, thrusting them up and down. The sight alone has your knees feeling weak. The motion of Eddie’s hips has you hypnotized for a few moments before you decide to go in.

Eddie isn’t facing the door and he’s wearing headphones, so he doesn’t hear you as you slip in and close the door behind you. Now you can hear the soft grunts that leave his lips with every thrust, and it has you biting down on your lower lip. When you take a step closer, you can hear the music Eddie’s listening to, the song pounding out past the headphones. Even though Eddie doesn’t know you’re there it’s almost as if he’s trying to seduce you. The hips, the grunts, now he’s listening to Burnin’ Up by Judas Priest? That’s the most often played song while the two of you are having sex. 

Deciding it’s fine if you’re perving a bit on your own boyfriend, you watch him while he does a few more reps. As he begins to slow down and finish up, you move to take a seat on the piece of equipment next to him. Eddie grins when he notices you sitting there and tugs the headphones down so they’re hanging around his neck.

“Hey, baby,” he says. “I’d hug you but I’m all sweaty.”

“It’s sexy.”

Eddie laughs at the blunt way you say it. 

“Really?” he asks.

You nod your head and Eddie takes it as an invitation to come over and sit next to you. He wraps you up in his sweaty arms, teasingly wiping his forehead against the shoulder of your shirt. It makes you laugh and you wrap your arms around his damp middle. The black material of his Ozzy shirt is sticking to his skin–and now yours too.

“Gonna go take a shower,” Eddie says and presses a kiss to your temple. “Then we’ll go get some food, yeah?”

“Sounds perfect.”

The next week you’re over at Eddie’s house, on your back with Eddie on top of you as you make out. There’s a long-forgotten shitty horror movie playing in the background, but the cheesy, shrill screams of the victims don’t even register to either of you. 

Rough calloused hands slide down your shirt, moving from your breasts to the hem of your tee, where it’s riding up. Eddie’s skin on yours has you arching your back as his hands travel upwards again. It’s clear that he wants your shirt off and who are you to deny him?

“Bedroom,” you mumble as you break apart just long enough for you to yank your shirt off. Eddie takes advantage of your quick preoccupation with your clothing to scoop you up in his arms, bridal style. “Eddie!” you squeak.

He just chuckles and squeezes you tighter against his body. 

“Maybe now you’ll let me throw you around when I have to punish you for being a bad girl,” he says, a cocky smirk quirking his kiss-bruised lips. 

“A-Are you okay?” you ask, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. “You won’t offend me if you have to put me down.” You’re very aware of his lithe body and how it’s supporting your larger one. This has to be hurting him–right?

“Babe.” Eddie chuckles again and shakes his head. “I’ve been lifting weights that weigh at least double what you do. It feels like I’m holding a feather right now.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you try to determine if he’s lying or not. But the way he holds steady, not seeming to strain or struggle with you in his arms calms your worries. Eddie heads down the hall and carries you into his room and tosses you down on his bed. You land with a bounce and a giggle as he climbs up on top of you. 

His lips attach to your neck as his fingers reach down and fiddle with the button of your jeans. Once it’s popped open and he drags the zipper down, Eddie starts to kiss his way down your body, making sure to press his lips against every part of you that he can. Your chest, your tummy, your hips. When he gets to your jeans, Eddie slides himself off the bed to kneel before you. He makes quick work of getting your pants off and lets out a sinful groan when he sees the wet patch forming on your pale green cotton panties. It encourages Eddie to move even faster as he yanks your underwear off so quickly that you blink and you miss it. 

Eddie dives right in, wasting no time to run his long, talented tongue through your folds. You grip the off-white sheets below you in your fists at his ministrations. The laugh that rumbles through Eddie at your drawn-out groan sends vibrations up your body, only adding to the pleasure. Strong hands wrap around your thighs and pull you even further down the bed so Eddie can get better access to your pussy. His tongue repeatedly flicks over your clit and your eyes practically roll back in your head. Your boyfriend knows exactly how to work you up and bring you to the brink of–

“Hey,” you pout when Eddie pulls back and sits on his heels. “Fuck, Eddie, I was close.”

“I know, angel.” His words are soft and kind despite the mischievous glint in his eye. “But there’s something I need you to do first.”

“What?”

Eddie climbs on the bed and crawls up towards his pillows. He plops flat on his back as he says, “Sit on my face.”

“Eddie,” you say with a breathless laugh. “I’ll crush you.”

“Then I go out doing what I love,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. “I always told you that you’d be the death of me.” Eddie looks over you with those brown doe eyes and you feel the resolve melting away in your chest. “But seriously, please come here. I already miss how you taste.”

Lifting you was one thing, but this seems like something he couldn’t prepare for by going to the gym. The sincere, pleading look in his eyes tells you that he really wants this, though.

“Are you sure?” you double-check.

“God, yes, please.”

Hesitantly, you shuffle up closer to him and lift yourself up to straddle his face. Bracing your hands on Eddie’s headboard, you still can’t bring yourself to lower your body. Just as you’re about to open your mouth and say something to Eddie, your boyfriend wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you flush down against his mouth. 

“Fuck,” you groan. You can practically feel Eddie grinning against your dripping pussy as he gets back to work. After a few moments of making sure Eddie isn’t suffocating below you, you start to relax into it and are able to enjoy the sensations of his tongue leisurely licking up and down your heat. A particularly hard lick to your hole has you letting out a gasp and clutching onto the wooden bedframe hard enough to snap it in half.

“Shit, Eddie. A-Almost there.”

He hums in acknowledgment, even though you didn’t need to tell him. Your body was something Eddie was a quick study in; it didn’t take him long to learn all the little quirks and tells your body gives him when you’re getting close to orgasm. 

“Fuck,” you moan between pants as your breaths become shallower. Sweat slicks your skin as you hurdle towards your peak, body a live wire as Eddie works your body just as flawlessly as he does his guitar. “I-I’m coming, Eddie, fuck, I’m coming.”

Eddie tightens his grip on your thighs as your hips rock against his face. His nose brushes against your clit and it shoots a spark through your body, only heightening your pleasure. 

As the high wears off, you feel boneless and collapse down on the bed next to Eddie. He huffs a breath of laughter and raises himself up on an elbow to watch you recover. Satisfied smirk on his face, Eddie wipes his mouth off on the back of his hand. He only gives you a moment longer to catch your breath before he gives you a smack on the ass.

“Hands and knees, baby,” he says. 

Energy not fully recuperated yet, you give him a nod but otherwise don’t move. Eddie’s not having that, though. A strong arm wraps around your waist and yanks you up, causing you to yelp in surprise. As you settle onto your hands and knees like you were told, you peek over your shoulder to see a cocky smirk adorning your boyfriend’s face. He ghosts a feather-light hand up your spine as he leans in to murmur in your ear.

“Told you I’d manhandle you if I needed to.”

There’s hardly enough time for your brain to process his words before he’s yanking your hips backward towards him. The sudden motion has your arms giving out and you drop face-first into his pillow, filling your senses with the citrus-scented shampoo he uses. The husky chuckle that comes from above you lets you know that this is the exact position he wanted you in any way. You let your eyes flutter closed as you revel in the sensation of him dragging his cock up and down your soaked folds. It’s meant to be teasing you–and it is–but you’d be lying if you said the motions didn’t feel amazing.

Eventually, Eddie can’t take his own teasing anymore–he’s so damn hard in his hand now. He lets his cock drag against your clit one last time before he pushes himself into you. A moan gets muffled into Eddie’s pillow as your fingers involuntarily claw at his sheets. If you were facing him, you know you’d see him smirking. The bed begins to squeak as Eddie moves his hips, his own groans tumbling out as he slides further into you with each thrust until he’s finally bottoming out.

“Fuck,” Eddie groans, head falling forward. His hands grip the soft plush skin of your hips hard enough to leave fingerprint-sized marks. You turn your head to keep from suffocating against the pillow, but you know you’d willingly starve yourself of oxygen if it meant Eddie would keep pounding into you like this. “Shit, baby. I’ll never get over how tight you are. God damn, I love your body so fucking much.”

The only response you can manage is a groan, thoughts fleeing from your head with every snap of his hips against yours. His pace begins to pick up and you know he’s getting closer to the edge. But suddenly he pulls completely out of you, leaving you achingly empty. The loss makes you whine as you look over your shoulder at your boyfriend. Words still haven’t come back into your brain yet, so you just questioningly grunt at him, which makes him laugh.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says. Your eyes track him as he shuffles up the bed until he’s sitting with his back against his headboard. He pats his thigh and winks at you. “Get over here.”

He doesn’t need to ask you twice. Throwing your left leg over his lap, you whimper as you lower yourself slowly onto his angry and leaking cock. The moment you’ve seated yourself on him, he thrusts his hips up into you, causing you to gasp and clutch onto his pale, freckled shoulders to steady yourself. 

“Fuck!” you cry. “Yes, Eddie!”

The smirk that graces Eddie’s beautiful features is so self-satisfied. Normally, you’d come up with a witty quip or bratty action to wipe that look off his face, but the pleasure coursing through your veins leaves you incapable of coherent thought. 

Eddie wraps an arm around your waist and starts bucking his hips wildly up into yours. 

“Shit,” you all but scream as you drop your forehead down to rest on Eddie’s shoulder. “God, Eddie.”

“Think my lifting paid off now, baby?” Eddie asks, smugness dripping in his tone. He chuckles and presses a kiss to your collarbone as you nod and bury your face into his neck.

“Yes,” you mumble against his skin before pulling back so he can understand you. “Yes, shit, your hips are magical.”

A chuckle rumbles through Eddie’s body and he tightens his grip around your waist, holding your body flush up against his. As you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your climax, your fingernails dig into the delicate skin on Eddie’s back.

“You’re so fucking sexy, baby,” Eddie says. When you don’t acknowledge his statement, he tugs on your hair and forces you to look him in the eye. “Jesus Christ, I love your curves. Every single inch of your body. It’s fucking mine. So perfect, holy shit. How’d I get so lucky?”

“All yours,” you confirm, nodding as much as you can with his hand in your hair. “My body is all yours. Every curve, every i-inch. Fuck, I’m close, Eddie.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” Eddie says between labored breaths. “Come with me.”

“O-Okay,” you stutter out in a whisper.

Your orgasm crashes over you, wave after wave of pleasure washes over you as you cling to your boyfriend. The way your walls clench around Eddie’s cock has him coming immediately after you, his hair tickling the skin of your cheek as he drops his head forward to rest against your body. 

“Baby, yes,” Eddie moans as he spills inside of you, hips rutting against yours as he fucks his spend into you. 

When he’s finished, Eddie lifts his head up before dropping it back against his headboard. A satisfied smile is on his lips as he looks at you, rosy cheeks and coated in a sheen of sweat as he tries to catch his breath. Your body collapses against his, breathing just as heavily, and Eddie wastes no time in wrapping both of his arms around you. It’s quiet as the two of you bask in the feelings, both physical and emotional. Eventually, Eddie turns his head and presses a kiss into your hair.

“I love you, baby girl.”

“I love you too, handsome.”

“So,” he starts, dotting soft kisses down the length of your neck, “you gonna let me pick you up now?”

It’s not something you even need to think about. “You can do whatever you want if you fuck me like that again.”

The laugh that Eddie lets out has you smiling against his skin. He brings his hand up and lightly trails his fingers up and down your spine. 

“Glad to hear that,” he says. “I think next I want to try lifting you over my shoulder. You know, like firemen do. How’s that sound?”

The question makes you lift your head up to look your boyfriend in the eye. 

“Only if you wear the uniform, too.”

[razrbladekiss]

GUILTY AS SIN? | Joel Miller

SUMMARY: your dad’s ex-best-friend explains just why your old-man no longer associates with the man whose blood once ran through his veins.

PAIRING: dads(ex)best friend!joel miller x afab!reader. joel is in his fifties, reader is early twenties.

WORD COUNT: no idea i raw-dogged this on tumblr dot com.

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI, 18+ WORK BELOW THE CUT. kinda established friendship between reader and joel, despite not seeing one another for a few years. insinuated NSFW, nothing strictly dirty. just wordy shit.

PART TWO

He’s a lot grayer than you remember. Broader, too. He looks positively stacked beneath the faded red flannel he’s donning today. For an old-ish man, Joel looks good.

Too good.

Much, much too good for a man who has the audacity—the absolute temerity—to show his face in this town after all that he said about, and did to your father.

Apparently—though, you’ve never been too sure how true the tale of brotherly betrayal had been—Joel had broken the “sacred” pact between himself and your father, when you had moved out of state four years ago, and neither spoke a word to the other since.

Joel left Point Pleasant and took with him his shame for whatever it was that he’d done. But now he’s back—to the dismay of your father—and you’ve just so happened to cross paths with him.

And though you don’t understand—or care to learn about—just what happened between the two who’d been friends since childhood, you respect your old man and his desire to keep you from Joel.

That was, until today.

When you bumbled through town—hunting for a padlock to secure the gate in your backyard that keeps blowing open with the fucking wind—you didn’t think you’d come face to face with him.

You’d waltzed into the hardware store on St. John’s Road, roaming the aisles—feeling uncomfortable in the mundane—for the biggest, brassiest lock you could find and when you got your hands on it, a familiar—though not entirely expected—voice filled the space between you and the monotony of being back home.

He showed himself and you all but shit yourself. You hadn’t expected to see Joel God damn Miller in your town, but you did. And it knocked you for six.

The two of you made small talk for a few minutes—mindful of who could’ve been around—before Joel was inviting you out for drinks later that evening. And being the sweet—slightly intrigued as to what happened between him and your father—soul you are, you said “yes.”

And that’s how you wound up in this position.

Joel sits opposite to you, puttering with the beer mat between his pointer finger and thumb. He flashes you a smile whenever you speak, and you’re filled with a strange sense of warmth in his presence. Nostalgia, perhaps.

“And college was a drag.” You say honestly. “I dropped out after the second semester, but I didn’t tell my parents.”

He laughs in disbelief, not for one second thinking that your father would’ve let that slide.

“What’d dad say?” Joel cringes when he realizes the way he’s spoken about your old man, remembering that they were no longer on friendly terms. “Sorry, Mike.”

Tight lipped, you smile.

“I didn’t tell him for six months. Mom knew, but she never told him.” Breezing past that hiccup, you tell him. “But when he did find out, he kicked my ass. Didn’t speak to me for a year. Didn’t want me back at home for Easter, Thanksgiving, Christmas, my Birthday. Didn’t want nothin’ to do with me, ‘til I re-enrolled.”

“And did you?”

You shake your head. “No, sir. I moved to Atlanta, instead. Got a job in marketing, worked my way up to a senior position, met a great guy and got engaged, built the best life I possibly could’ve.”

Proud of you—genuinely pleased—Joel smiles. “So what brings you back here?”

The wine glass in your hand is suddenly bone-dry, empty of it’s once fruity contents. You laugh wryly. “Got fired. Fiancé cheated on me with the CEO of my company. Lost my house in the split. So I came back here last summer.. taken me ‘til now to be able to move outta dad’s place.”

“Oh, sweetheart..” He sense that you don’t want his sympathy, but he can’t help it. “How did d—Mike take it?”

Again, you laugh.

“Badly. Didn’t speak to me for a while.” You smile tight-lipped. “Common theme, that. Dad not speaking to me.”

Joel whirls his whiskey around its tumbler, refusing eye contact. “I know how that feels. Been four years since he last said a word to me, and I kick myself for that everyday.”

It’s sad. Meditative. Almost makes you want to keep your nose out.

Almost.

“Yeah,” you put down your glass. “What happened there, then? ‘Cus nobody seems to tell me jack-shit here, anymore.”

Usually, Joel would say something along the lines of “darlin’, it’s best you don’t know,” or “none ‘a your damn business.” But he supposes that it is your business—what with it being your father.

And the fact that you’re the fucking reason for your dad wanting to murder Joel, and use his guts as drapes.

“Well.” He begins—feeling his chest constrict and heart pound wildly inside of its ribcage. Joel takes a deep, drawn out breath, and a swig of his liquor for some well-needed fucking courage.

But it doesn’t work.

He’s a trembling mess, now.

“Alright, you needa know…this ain’t somethin’ I’m proud of.”

You blink at him, feeling crimson bleed into your cheeks while simultaneously knowing that all color is draining from your face.

“And I’ve been on my own for years. Since Sarah’s mother died—“

“Joel.” You say, warningly. “Spit it out.”

He swallows thickly the residual bile on the tip of his tongue. Joel didn’t think he’d ever be in this position. Least of all today.

“Your father and I, we got drunk at a yacht party one night.” He begins. “Some hot-shot at his company invited us and I wasn’t gunna go, ‘til Mike convinced me.”

You can tell he’s trying to drag it out, and so you stare at him pointedly.

Joel clears his throat, continuing. “Anyway. We got hammered, told one another some shit and shared a few heart-to-hearts. And then I crossed a boundary that—darlin’—I know I never should’ve crossed.”

“Go on..” Apprehensive, you say.

He rubs his lips together, sending you a very apologetic gaze.

“I told your father that I had a crush on you.” Finally he admits, and your heart falls out of your fucking cunt. “Now—this ain’t somethin’ I ever wanted to act on—“

“You had a crush on me?” He nods, ignoring the venom in your tone. “Joel! That’s fucking—that’s—“

You can’t find it in yourself to be disgusted with him. In fact, you’re quite flattered, actually. Because for as long as you can remember, Joel Miller was desired by every single woman that he’d ever known, and yourself would’ve been included in that.

Despite being the father of one of your closest childhood friends, you often fantasized about what it’d be like to screw around with Joel. Because he was so handsome—so rough and rugged—and he made you squirm whenever he put a friendly hand to your shoulder or hugged you at a family event.

You’re completely dumbfounded, actually.

He says your name as you’re lost in your lascivious thoughts, hastily plummeting you back to reality.

“I’m sorry—“

“Don’t be.” Completely unfazed, now, you say. “My dad’s a drama queen. I should’ve known it’d be something stupid that split the two of you up.”

He stares blankly at you, brows fused together.

“If I’m being honest, Joel, I’ve wanted to fuck you for years.” Candid, you tell him. “So I guess that now you and my dad hate one another, I have nothing to feel bad about.”

“What the f—I mean—thanks? But, sweetheart, this is wrong.” He reasons. “Your father ground me into the sidewalk when he found out, and I can’t imagine what he’ll do to me if he finds out you’re sayin’ all these things—“

You wave, completely detached from reality. “Aw, fuck him. Never cared much for him, anyways. Was always tryna control my life.”

Joel actually can’t believe what he’s hearing. It’s like some strange music to his ears, but it feels so wrong.

“And, y’know what? He can’t control me now.” You say matter of fact before you’re hopping off your bar stool, and shifting to stand in front of Joel. “I’d love to hear his thoughts on this.”

In a moment of completely blind, unadultered passion, you fuse your lips to Joel’s. His left hand comes up to take purchase on the skin of your neck while the right lands on your waist. He moans, pushing his tongue into your mouth.

You laud the sweetness of Honey on his tongue, and drink the lustrous flavor of him. He’s so steamy. So beautiful, for an older man.

And now that you’re back in the same town, then who knows what’ll happen?

“Joel?”

He hums against your lips, holding tightly your skin.

“Take me home with you.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not putting a bell on my cat?

Cw for discussion of animal death and injury in vague terms.

So I live in a neighborhood with a lot of stray/outdoor cats. In fact, it's sorta that way all over the city. A few weeks ago as of writing this, I picked up a stray because I saw that it had an open wound on its neck; since it was amicable to being handled I decided to take it to the vet to be treated (and neutered, since I'd already gotten hold of it and obviously we don't need more strays.)

Recently, my cat of 15 years (we had him for 15 years, he was about 17-18 though) passed of old age, so I wasn't expecting my family to be willing to take a new cat in so soon. We even still have most of his stuff, so I figured it would be a matter of keeping the stray indoors until it was healed, then letting him go about his business. We all ended up getting attached over his two weeks of recovery though (if anyone is curious, it was a burst absess. While he was there we got him vaccinated and checked for other problems. Aside from ear mites, he was fine) so we got him a microchip, named him, and that was that.

My previous cat was also a rescue, though we picked him up from a shelter. At the time we also had a dog and a dog door, so keeping him inside would have been a logistical struggle we just... didn't care to bother with. By the time the dog passed, he'd had access to the outside for years and we saw no reason to suddenly cut him off from that. We obviously had to keep this new cat completely inside while his staples were in, but the plan was always to open up the dog door once he was healed and let him decide where he wanted to be. I don't like taking care of a litter box, my dad doesn't like the smell of cat, 3/4ths of the house is allergic (though that didn't stop us before), and this cat is much younger than our previous was, and has much more energy (vet estimated him at 6mo-1yr). At the beginning of last week (again, as of writing this) I got the go-ahead from the vet to let him outside and gladly did so. He hasn't gotten the hang of the dog door yet (our previous had the advantage of watching the dog go through to learn how to do it) but will go through open doors/windows and will return to the door or enter through the window if it's still open.

With context out of the way here comes the trouble: our neighbors. Our house is on the corner of the block and to our left is a house that takes tenants every so often. They've been here for as long as I (22m) have been alive and have been a nucance for probably longer than that. Their yard is atrocious, they planted bamboo that grew under the fence and into our property, and the woman who owns the house (presumably. Her husband might but I've never spoken to him) apparently has some moral issue with outdoor cats.

Sometime into owning our previous cat, she suddenly became very concerned with the bird population and insisted that we collar our cat and get him a bell so that he wouldn't catch birds. I'd like to point three things out: 1) our previous cat only had one eye, 2) we had tried to collar him before and he lost every single one so we gave up (breakaway collars so he didn't choke, 3) he caught birds despite both of these facts. Needless to say, I was not fucking thrilled about unsolicited advice from a woman I'd never spoken to, who let her unmitigated mess of invasive plants invade my garden, but whatever. She spoke to my little (10yro) sister about it at the time, only once, and never to me, so it wasn't an issue.

So I let this new cat out, right? I opened the dog door for him and he waltzed right on out, but I wasn't convinced he really knew how to operate it. About an hour or so without hearing him come in, I head through the back door to look for him. I got him from a different neighborhood, across town, while visiting a friend, so I figured I was allowed to be a little worried about him getting lost or overwhelmed. As soon as I step out onto the porch, the neighbor-lady calls over and asks me if my cat got out or I let it out.

I tell her I let him out. She asks me to put a bell on him. In an attempt to remain civil I ask her why. She says something about it being stupid, I ask her why it's stupid, she says cats eat birds and the bird populations are declining. I instantly want to call bull on cats being a leading reason of bird population decline, but I just tell her that I'll have to look that up, and ask her if she saw which way he went. (I'd like my restraint during this interaction noted, thanks.)

Anyway I don't find the cat but I get a good few patrols around the block, and eventually he comes back to the house sometime in the late-night early-morning. He does not use the dog door and waits for me to open the door instead (back door is on the way to the bathroom, I saw his stupid little face pressed against the glass when i went to piss).

I look up bird population decline articles. Most of them mention cats as a factor, along with clear windows. Primary factors are listed as deforestation and invasive species, pesticides, etc. I don't consider getting my cat a collar because I don't appreciate my neighbors input, especially when she's going to be hypocritical and ignore that planting native species may help bird population more than putting out fifty fucking feeders and complaining that the stray cats see her yard as a buffet. Anyway.

I let him out again yesterday, this time through the window in my room, which leads to the back porch. I felt comfortable leaving it open since I work at my desk and would hear if anything not-cat came inside. (Allergies were a problem, but I'd really rather he have a way to get inside if he wanted/needed, and he STILL will not open the dog door on his own. Obviously I'm not helping by continuing to give him alternatives but I am soft-hearted.) Sometime in the evening my dad comes in and tells me that when the cat next comes back, I should keep him inside because "The neighbor lady is being a bitch and I don't want to deal with it." I assume she said something to him, so I agree and when the cat comes in for the night I close the window.

This morning I saw what had ACTUALLY got him.in a twist, because not only did she say something but she printed out and taped a note to our door. Oh, how I would love to send a picture of it here, but I don't know how to embed photos in asks so you'll just have to deal with my transcription:

CAT FACTS

Cats kill birds. Cars kill cats.

Here's some links to look up.

[I won't type the links out. First one is an article titled "how long do outdoor cats live indoor vs outdoor cats" and the second is "faq cats and their effects on birds". I have not read either of these.]

Ask Kelly about Dixie. Ask Jean about Madeline - wait don't - she ran over her with her own car and broke her pelvis because the cat was older and couldn't hear well.

You have a very beautiful young cat. He deserves a safe loving home. Act like you care for your cat or give him to a home that will. I have four indoor cats - three are orange boys. I have a soft spot for orange boy cats. They are very happy as inside cats.

Be responsible.

[Handwritten at the bottom:]

Your cat is sleeping in my backyard. Why are you forcing him to be an outdoor cat!?

[End]

The amount of violent rage this fills me with is unreal. Kelly is our across-the-road neighbor, I assume Jean is another neighbor (I'm bad with names) and I CANNOT imagine that either of them appreciate being. Used like this. Also, I'm very glad her cats are happy indoors but this cat is not, he wants to go outside, he has been crowding the window all morning waiting for me to open it. (I respect me father so I won't, but I disrespect my neighbor so I really, REALLY fucking want to.)

So AITA for disregarding the safety/happiness of my cat and the decline of the bird population by not putting a collar on him and heartlessly forcing him outside? I'm no further inclined to force him indoors or get a collar, especially with her continued insistence, and in fact I'm so far making an active effort to restrain myself from going over and talking to her because I just want to turn it into an argument.